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49,002 | 1,323 | 32 | 2,325 | 2,409 | Fie Testarossa
"As well as I can I never been on a boat before it hasnt been agreeing with me sadly." Fie answered truthfully she also discovered she wasn't one for sea travel who knew? "Beyond that I been trying to keep my stomach down as much as possible also catching up on old research I set aside a few ages ago. You wouldn't have books or knowledge on magic history and the legends behind it would you? Or better yet history and knowledge of the outrealms?" Fie asked if she was to keep herself busy from the thoughts of the sea and the constant rocking she might as well try and complete old research. | Name:Fie Testarossa
Appearance:
Age: 20
Gender: Female
Sexual Orientation: Bisexual
Personality: Fie can come across as very odd speaking and often flitting between subjects as they come to mind this makes her seem a bit airheaded but its far from the truth as due to her singular drive causes her to change her focus from one subject to the next if it means getting closer to what she seeks.
Starting Classes: Dark Mage
Starting Equipment: Flux, Fire, Vulenary
Bio: Fie was born to a family of scholars or so she liked to believe. She doesn’t know the true answer as she was orphaned from the time she was four years of age. With that said she has always been curious about things and how they worked magic was something that called to her something that she couldn’t explain readily. This curiosity is what drew her to studying magic as a whole. Thankfully growing up in New Capita was a blessing for this as her drive and study quickly netted her a small job at the library allowing her all the time to study the inner workings of magic. Elder magic came easy to her knowledge being the key factor in it something she thought fit her perfectly. Despite being shunned majority of the time for practicing “dark magic” and as such considered “evil” or “not right”. She was always eager to correct and or educate those seeking knowledge on the esoteric branch of magic. |
49,003 | 1,323 | 33 | 995 | 1,712 | Troe Revinah
"Some of the New Capitan legends I've been reading mention some odd magical phenomena, but that's normal for legends. You can borrow that book once I'm done. As for Outrealms...Well There was a book I used to have at home, but...You know. There was one thing I recall from it though, and it's kind of driving the only theory I have with these strange things that took over Irinoth." He said, admittedly vague.
The sooner the group departed the sooner he'd be able to confirm it. Of course that reasoning was the best way to distract himself from the real point of going home. If there was a way to save or avenge his family, he'd at least try. | Name: Troe Revinah
Age: 20
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
Personality: Troe can be an incredibly cold sort, but if one were to observe carefully, they would likely notice how protective he is of his allies. On the outside he seems to be studious, though more often than not he reads for pleasure instead by hiding stories inside his text books and tomes.
Class: Mage
Starting equipment: Wind Tome, Vulenary
Bio: Troe was born to a high family in Rjaskav which, for better or worse, exempted him from the war. Instead he took a path that was rare for inhabitants of Irinoth, magic. Most aristocrats were either knights or lazy good for nothings that considered the battles that took place as a spectator sport. After a few years of practice he learned that he had a knack for it despite his home's general distaste for magic. Eventually he decided that instead of using his parents' wealth to order books from New Capita, he'd just go to where the books were. Of course, this complicated things with his family as they didn't approve of their youngest embarking to a foreign land. This eventually led to Troe taking a bag filled with money and stowing away on a trader's ship to the northernmost island.
A few years in New Capita saw Troe working at a library in order to have easy access to the study materials as well as a few books for leisure reading. While he had plenty of money and a number of invitations to noble houses because of his lineage. All of that pomp and circumstance would have simply distracted him from his stories...and to a lesser extent his studies.
The news of his kingdom's fall may not have reached him just yet, but on some level he already knows. Perhaps that is why he has evaded people for some time, as though an outside source confirming the news would make it real. |
49,004 | 1,323 | 34 | 1,792 | 1,093 | ---On A Ship---
Keerin had mostly kept to herself during the voyage while all others had began mingling with each other. No one appeared to be interested in talking to her though that was fine with the her. She had nothing to say to her party anyway.
The Sage-turned-Cleric found herself on the ship's deck and admiring the blue waves. It reminded her of her voyage away from home. She did not know how long it really lasted but to her, it was almost like an eternity. She had to struggle with all the feelings of regret and homesickness on that ship. Even now she struggled, fighting the urge to come back home to see her beloved prince once again.
She quickly closed her eyes to keep the tears from leaking out and continued staring at the blue water, trying to think of nothing. | Name: Keerin
Age: 19
Gender: Female
Sexual Orientation: Straight (and married, sort of.)
Personality:
Quiet and reserved but when push comes to shove, she will put her foot down and not move an inch (unless it becomes physical then you can move her all you want :3).
As such, Keerin can come off as secretive and antisocial. And she likely is as she will only say what is needed and be quiet at all the rest. One would be correct in that she is hiding a secret but it is a secret for a reason.
She will also not fight for any reason, not even to defend herself, but she will try to put others out of harm's way, even at the cost of her own life.
Class: Cleric
Bio:
Keerin will say she came from Santorini Island as your run-of-the-mill Cleric, healing people for a living but I'll tell you the truth with a poem. *ahem*
In a small kingdom, minor and unknown
Lived a young boy, heir to the throne
He had two retainers, beauties of the land
The best of friends, but both craved the prince's hand
The tired King himself, the prince's father
Loudly he declared, clear was his order
"The both of you shall marry my son!
Let this command be questioned by none!"
And thus, the strangest of marriages was sanctioned
But despite the King's words, its sanctity was questioned
Whispers of taboo and damnation
Turned to yells of reject and condemnation
One of the maidens, Keerin the Sage
Blind she was not to the kingdom's outrage
The unholy union of three souls
Was an act darker than the blackest coal
She could not bear to watch her beloved
To be spat on and decried for all their lives
And so she decided to end this curse
By leaving completely, uttering no words |
49,005 | 1,323 | 35 | 439 | 32 | Rosalia Flos
Docking at the island had come as a relief to the young woman; try as she might to like it, being on a ship simply didn't sit well with her. Perhaps she just had a weak constitution due to never having traveled by sea before, but after she had to spend one or two days curled up on her cot due to nausea, Rosalia was grateful for this short reprieve. She found it rather embarrassing to discover such a weakness in herself, but at the same time, she knew that there wasn't much that she could do about it besides cope.
Unless, of course, there was something that she could seek out while they were here to help with those days where the waves were particularly rough. Some ginger root, perhaps? She had heard that using them in a tea could potentially combat seasickness, and considering that it could be a while until they made their next destination, it seemed wise to take advantage of their current stop.
She had emerged from her cabin ready to go, and had made her way about halfway across the deck when she caught side of a familiar figure standing off to the side. That was...the cleric who had joined them, wasn't it? She stood there for a moment, trying to put a name to that face, but realized within seconds that she had no recollection of the other woman's name whatsoever. That aside though...was she alright? Although it was difficult to tell from where she presently stood, Rosalia wondered if something may have been troubling her.
In an instant, her plan to head ashore was dashed from her mind as Rosalia moved to stand alongside Keerin. Leaning her arms against the ship's railings, she cocked her head to the side. "Hello there. Are you...are you quite alright?" | Name: Cael Augire
He is about 5'11" and his eyes are yellow-golden in hue.
Age: 25
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Straight
Personality: When around people that he doesn't trust or know, Cael channels a confident facade. It's a mask designed after years on the road, designed to keep him from appearing weak. It's also part of preventing people from knowing of his humble origin. When around people that he trusts though, he shows a more relaxed side of himself, not as tensely held together as he is around strangers. He's also quite mischievous with his closest friends.
In battle, he's all about teasing opponents into mistakes, when they allow him. He fancies himself a strategist and has barked off orders to people even when he had no right or position to do so. The one time that he was furious whilst fighting, one of his fellow mercenaries told him that he exuded killing intent. He always tries to keep his own emotions under control so that he can take advantage of his enemies that don't do the same.
Starting Class: Myrmidon
Starting Equipment: Iron Sword, Vulenary
Bio: Cael didn't know his mother, but his father was around long enough to teach him how to survive the world. He was taught that letting people get to him was a sure way to fail, and that he shouldn't let anyone in. It didn't take him long after his father left for one war or another to understand what he meant by that. His father never returned, but by the point that Cael knew that he wouldn't be seeing the man again, he'd already figured out how to make peace with it. He'd been left in the care of a former mercenary, someone that had survived fight after fight. That man, Durzo, taught Cael how to fight properly with a blade. Cael considers Durzo more of a father than his ever was. He tends to send the man money from the jobs he's taken, at least prior to this Abyss incident taking place. Now that he's convinced the man to get away from New Capita, he's looking for a way to help stop the Abyss from taking over his home. He'd grown fond of his own personal house on the island, a dozen miles outside of the capital. |
49,006 | 1,323 | 36 | 1,792 | 1,093 | ---On A Ship---
"Hello there. Are you...are you quite alright?"
"Kyah!" Keerin was startled by the sudden greeting of the Pegasus Knight. Though, anything would be sudden to one so occupied handling her thoughts. "Oh, uh, forgive me milady. I meant no offense!" The Cleric quickly apologized, bowing her head. "I-I was merely startled. Again, my apologies."
While Keerin had seen her before introducing herself when the group first assembled, this was the first time the Cleric had taken a good look at her. In a way, Keerin was reminded of her best friend. The colors did not match but their figures were alike as well as how they carried themselves. "Is there something you need from me, milady?" She asked the Pegasus Knight. | Name: Keerin
Age: 19
Gender: Female
Sexual Orientation: Straight (and married, sort of.)
Personality:
Quiet and reserved but when push comes to shove, she will put her foot down and not move an inch (unless it becomes physical then you can move her all you want :3).
As such, Keerin can come off as secretive and antisocial. And she likely is as she will only say what is needed and be quiet at all the rest. One would be correct in that she is hiding a secret but it is a secret for a reason.
She will also not fight for any reason, not even to defend herself, but she will try to put others out of harm's way, even at the cost of her own life.
Class: Cleric
Bio:
Keerin will say she came from Santorini Island as your run-of-the-mill Cleric, healing people for a living but I'll tell you the truth with a poem. *ahem*
In a small kingdom, minor and unknown
Lived a young boy, heir to the throne
He had two retainers, beauties of the land
The best of friends, but both craved the prince's hand
The tired King himself, the prince's father
Loudly he declared, clear was his order
"The both of you shall marry my son!
Let this command be questioned by none!"
And thus, the strangest of marriages was sanctioned
But despite the King's words, its sanctity was questioned
Whispers of taboo and damnation
Turned to yells of reject and condemnation
One of the maidens, Keerin the Sage
Blind she was not to the kingdom's outrage
The unholy union of three souls
Was an act darker than the blackest coal
She could not bear to watch her beloved
To be spat on and decried for all their lives
And so she decided to end this curse
By leaving completely, uttering no words |
49,007 | 1,323 | 37 | 92 | 2,185 | Ade Daybreak
Interacting with :
Idiot! she thought to herself as soon as she hit the ground. When she looked up there was a guy standing right in front of her. He started talking casually about how she got here. She was scared that they were going to do something to her. She had been a stow away and stole a little of their food. Then he introduced himself and handed her a loaf of bread. However, what confused her most was the fact that he said she could have just asked to join them. What was he planning to do with her.
She repositioned to be sitting down then looked back and forth from the bread to Kieran. After a moment she snatched the bread out of his hands and started scarfing it down. She scooted a little ways back from the man before speaking, "I'm Adelinde." She looked away from him. She didn't want to tell him why she was here. She had to say something though because she may be in danger if she doesn't say anything. Meekly she said, "I want to help fight those monsters." She then looked up at him and the expression in her face showed severe anger. It was obvious there was more to it than just wanting to help fight. | Name:
Adelinde Daybreak
Age:
19
Gender:
Female
Sexual Orientation:
Heterosexual
Personality:
A very timid but passionate person. Ade is strong willed when it comes to certain things. She is stubborn and it seems as if no one can get her to change her mind without her fighting back. She is also a very caring individual that desires to help save as many people in whatever way she can. Not a very good liar, but her secrets are not easy to crack open.
Starting Classes:
Villager
Bio:
Ade's life is one full of heartbreak and sorrow not by any real fault of her own. In her family she was the fifth child and only had one younger than her. At first the peasant family lived peacefully in the kingdom of Solvnir until a group of bandits descended upon the small village.
The bandits killed every man that stood up to them and even killed a few of the women and children just to break the spirits of the people. The bandits had decided they were going to kill Ade's mother and eldest sister to prove a point to the somewhat large family. Her father and two oldest brothers wouldn't stay down and accept their fate deciding for a last ditch effort to take out the bandits and run. Sadly though the men didn't even take a single bandit down. All five were then killed leaving Ade, her older sister, and her younger sister alive.
The bandits chose to make the villagers left become workers for them. The next few years were spent cleaning clothes, cooking meals, and other similar tasks. A year before the Abyss came nearly half of the camp became ill of some disease that they were unable to identify. Among that number was Ade's older sister. Any attempt to heal the sick was a miserable failure, and they all soon realized that there was only one option left. Each ill, even the sick bandits, gave up their lives so that they wouldn't cause harm to the remaining people.
After this things became somewhat easier. The bandits were now being run by someone different due to the previous leader dying among the ill. This new leader decided that they would treat their servants better seeing as they were basically the backbone of the camp. (It most certainly had nothing to do with the fact that they outnumbered the bandits 3 to 1) Before all they ever got to eat tended to be scraps, but now they had the same nourishment as some of the youngest fighters. They were given new clothes so that they weren't stuck in rags. The bandits even got them beds and rooms of their own. The slaves turned into serfs. Not that much better, but at least they had a way to survive easier.
Somehow though it seemed as if the universe didn't want Ade to have a happy life. When the Abyss came everyone in the bandit camp panicked and ran. No one even bothered to attempt fighting which caused the weaker among the camp to be brutally slaughtered like wolves had caught their prey. As soon as Ade realized what was going on she grabbed her sister and began running. They were only lucky because the two were some of the quickest in the camp from having to run back and forth between different areas of the camp during the day. Ade saw a horse tied to a post going crazy. She ran over to it and forced her sister to get on. She untied the horse, but before she could get on the horse took off.
She started to run after it but to no avail. By the time she stopped running the camp was no where in sight. She fell to her knees weeping loudly that she lost her final family member. If one were to ask her and she actually tried to answer she wouldn't have any clue how long she actually sat there. As night started to fall she could hear the noises of those monsters from behind, but she couldn't bring herself to look. Suddenly though a small group of soldiers stumbled upon her. They asked her so many questions, but she couldn't even bring herself to speak. They sat her on one of the horses and took her to the closest port sending her to the capital. |
49,008 | 1,323 | 38 | 351 | 2,364 | Artyom Barkov
Interacting with:
While the nap was in and of itself rather enjoyable, Artyom couldn't laze around all day; There were things to do, people to talk to, plans to make for when they arrived in hostile terrain, training drills to run; Sure there wasn't exactly much room on the ship for anything too advanced but even if they weren't a proper military unit didn't mean they could just slack the hell off. They were going into enemy held terrain, he needed to know that everyone under his command knew what they were doing!
People not knowing what they were doing led to people dying.
Dressing himself out of instinct and repetition, Artyom walked out onto the deck of the ship... and noticed that bowman was talking to a new girl. For a moment he considered the possibility that they were recruiting some more people from Santorini until he approached and got a better look at the girl... and caught a whiff of her. He quickly found himself labeling her as a refugee instead of as a possible recruit. "And I want to be able to eat bacon and poop emeralds. The difference between us is that I'm halfway successful." He quickly spoke up, having overheard the girl's intent.
Looking at her in a manner that was clearly judging her abilities and finding them wanting from what he could see, he simply asked "Do you have either a weapon, armor or training with either of those things?" | Name: Artyom Barkov
Appearance:
Age:25
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Pansexual
Personality: Brash, somewhat arrogant and (if he believes himself to be right) rather headstrong, Artyom is not a man who backs down easily. His career as a professional mercenary as also left him as something of a 'Moral Void', having committed several jobs over the years that others might considered horrible without feeling a twinge of guilt; He manages to do this because he views himself as little more then a tool akin to an axe. After all, an axe doesn't care if it is chopping into wood, the skull of a wolf or the ribcage of a enemy, only that its wielder cleans it and ensures that it is in good condition.
He also believes that actions taken to help others should be done in as discrete a fashion as possible, both for the sake of the pride of those that are being helped and because if someone is making a big deal out of being charitable to others, they aren't doing it to actually help them.
Starting Classes: Mercenary
Starting Equipment: Iron sword and Vulenary.
Bio:
Artyom was born in the nation of Rjaskav in a rather poor, downtrodden village who's glory days were long passed with when the local silver mine ran dry. Opportunities to eat a steady meal were few and far between and as soon as Artyom was old enough to be considered a man when he turned thirteen he was given what his family could spare before being booted at the door to fend for himself so that his younger brothers and sisters could have more to eat.
With no future in his birth village, Artyom traveled towards the nearest city and by chance signed up with a mercenary band that was recruiting there. For over a decade he happily served with the Sunset Axe Company, occasionally fighting a battle with Solvnir but more often then not being employed to handle... more local disputes.
The onset of the Abyss was something of a short boon for the Sunset Axe company; They were able to make a killing protecting the wealthy from the onset of nightmarish horrors that came from the darkness at first, but after one battle went horribly wrong most of the company died and it was quickly decided that now was a good as time as any to retire with as much of their loot as they could. Fleeing towards New Capita, Artyom found himself without... well, anything to do. Granted he still had enough money to keep himself going for a while before that became a problem, but sooner or later he was going to have to address that. |
49,009 | 1,323 | 39 | 439 | 32 | Rosalia Flos
"Oops." Eyes widening at the other woman's response, Rosalia quickly straightened up and held her hands up in front of her. "No no, no need to apologize! If anything, I'm the one who owes you an apology; I didn't mean to startle you like that." Then again, she should have known that quietly sidling up to someone lost in thought probably wasn't the best of ideas--it was no wonder that the poor cleric had been given a scare.
The question earned a small, wry smile from the pegasus knight. "There isn't anything that I need per se. I just realized upon seeing you that we never really had the time to converse in the past week, and late as it is, I thought it a good idea to amend that now." Rosalia stretched her hand out to the other woman, lips pulling into another smile.
"I'm Rosalia, and I--belatedly--am looking forward to working with you." | Name: Cael Augire
He is about 5'11" and his eyes are yellow-golden in hue.
Age: 25
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Straight
Personality: When around people that he doesn't trust or know, Cael channels a confident facade. It's a mask designed after years on the road, designed to keep him from appearing weak. It's also part of preventing people from knowing of his humble origin. When around people that he trusts though, he shows a more relaxed side of himself, not as tensely held together as he is around strangers. He's also quite mischievous with his closest friends.
In battle, he's all about teasing opponents into mistakes, when they allow him. He fancies himself a strategist and has barked off orders to people even when he had no right or position to do so. The one time that he was furious whilst fighting, one of his fellow mercenaries told him that he exuded killing intent. He always tries to keep his own emotions under control so that he can take advantage of his enemies that don't do the same.
Starting Class: Myrmidon
Starting Equipment: Iron Sword, Vulenary
Bio: Cael didn't know his mother, but his father was around long enough to teach him how to survive the world. He was taught that letting people get to him was a sure way to fail, and that he shouldn't let anyone in. It didn't take him long after his father left for one war or another to understand what he meant by that. His father never returned, but by the point that Cael knew that he wouldn't be seeing the man again, he'd already figured out how to make peace with it. He'd been left in the care of a former mercenary, someone that had survived fight after fight. That man, Durzo, taught Cael how to fight properly with a blade. Cael considers Durzo more of a father than his ever was. He tends to send the man money from the jobs he's taken, at least prior to this Abyss incident taking place. Now that he's convinced the man to get away from New Capita, he's looking for a way to help stop the Abyss from taking over his home. He'd grown fond of his own personal house on the island, a dozen miles outside of the capital. |
49,010 | 1,323 | 40 | 111 | 54 | Markus Grey
On the Boat
Markus was a little sad that they had to stop at the island, he really enjoyed being on the water and talking to people. Granted, those people were probably upset at him, because he had let his wyvern Clementine be free while on the ship, so throughout the voyage, the ship seemed to shake somewhat frequently. This was rather bad when you had a good drink in your hand, and Clementine came back from one of her flights. Markus felt a little embarrassed about all the spilt drinks that were all his fault, but he knew it was only a matter of time until he could prove his worth in combat.
He felt he did a decent enough job making up for the blunders that he had made, with the food he had crafted on the ship's very small kitchen. It wasn't much of a kitchen, but he made it one. Knives were laid nice on sacks of grain, he rested pots in the small area where he could light a fire without the risk of burning down the ship. He considered trying to take someone's weapons to use as a prop-up for a loaf of bread he was baking, but his axe worked well enough, discounting the small hole in the ship's hull. However, he couldn't help but think some of his supplies were going missing. It may have looked like a mess, but he made some good stew and steak during their voyage.
Markus did have one reason to be happy about the stop however, it let him get new supplies for cooking, which was of course a necessity when you had to feed a whole adventuring party. So, as soon as the boat would dock, he would be rushing down to the market, preferably with company. He was a pretty bad shopper when he was alone. Until then, he sat in his makeshift kitchen, practicing his fortune telling. | Name: Markus Grey
Age: 25
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
Personality: Markus Grey considers himself a smart man, who has an thirst for knowledge. He is a charming individual who loves learning, and socializing with other people, to make up for lost time. He also loves to cook and predict the future with his tarot cards he stole from a corpse. He treats most people he meets with respect, however that is quickly lost upon a slight. He isn't very lucky and when he isn't with his wyvern, he's not very strong or happy.
Starting Class: Wyvern Rider
Starting Equipment: Iron Axe, Vulenary, Ladle
Bio: Markus Grey grew up on Airi Island, born into one of the many criminal groups dotted among the landmass. He wasn't very strong, and he wasn't determined to hurt others for a living. As such, he was shunned, and beat. Eventually he was thrown into a prison, where he stayed for several years, with minimal human contact, except the woman who brought him his meager rations. A rival group invaded the camp, and slew many of the members of Markus' clan. When they stumbled upon Markus, they welcomed him into their arms, and Markus was given a much more happy living. However, still not being strong, and suffering from muscle atrophy from being locked in a cell, they gave him a wyvern. He bonded with the wyvern, and she served as a vessel for his will, where his body couldn't take him. Eventually, the leader of the clan was murdered, and the group went their own separate ways. Markus stumbled around on the Island for a few more years, trying to find a purpose for his life, straying from group to group with his wyvern. Eventually he decided to go New Capita with his wyvern. After hijacking a ship with his wyvern, he demanded transport to the island to find a purpose for his life, finding a job as a chef, and a side job as a fortune teller for people with too much time on their hands. This worked even better for his wyvern, who got to eat all of the scraps. But eventually Markus' mind strayed again, and he found himself often staring into the distance searching for the thrill of combat. |
49,011 | 1,323 | 41 | 544 | 1,477 | Kieran Hishamie
and
"Because clearly those are the only things that matter," Kieran said with a shrug to both of people he was now interacting with,"Why is that the first thing you asked? Honestly my first questions would be something along the lines of "Whats your favorite color" and "does this quiver make my bow look fat".
Kieran smiled while talking and laughed at the end of his own dumb joke. He thought that Mr. Man over here was a little too.....forward....or serious.....or too seriously forward. Kieran slightly out loud as he thought this, realizing he was probably looking like a fool. Kieran stretched his arms and yawned.
"Besides clearly Adelinde has her reason for being here, and this is an open group. How about this, leave Adelinde to me and I will get her suited up and weaponized while we are ported. And if it turns out she cant fight I will show her how to fire a bow ok? " | Name: Kieran Hishamie
Appearance:
Age: 22
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
Personality: Kieran is very sarcastic and loves to make light of serious situations. His quick wit and sharp tongue often land him in more trouble than not.
Starting Classes: Archer
Bio: Kieran was born to moderately average family, neither known nor unknown. They never had more than enough but never less than what was needed. It was an average life, no danger, and a secure future......and Kieran hated it. Kieran yearned for adventure, and his heart and mind always told him to venture out into places he has never been. He was born and raised in the South of New Capita, on a small farm not too far away from a settlement. At age thirteen Kieran packed up a few belongings, picked up a small wooden bow, and after saying goodbye to his parents. He then travelled to the other nearby islands, going on many adventures and experiencing life. He developed his archery skills as the years went on, as well as his hunting abilites. When the Abyss let out creatures, Kieran decided to quit adventuring so far away from home and stay in New Capita. |
49,012 | 1,323 | 42 | 2,325 | 2,409 | Fie Testarossa
"There is a theory I have that the source of the things that is happening is a mixture of strong ambient magic and the outrealms. Magic has always been unpredictable doubly so with ancient magic. So what would happen if that ambient magic interacted with the summoning and chaotic nature of the outrealms?" Fie explained it was her prevalent theory at the moment but it was a theory and one see needed to research more on along with actual experience to truly test. "Outrealms form my knowledge is chaotic in nature ranging from summoning warriors to monsters and dragons as well. With that said its chaotic nature once met with ambient magic can cause a fault if you will thus causing the events." She explained further the main reason she was even going this far was that she believed Troe to be one of the few who would understand her theory. | Name:Fie Testarossa
Appearance:
Age: 20
Gender: Female
Sexual Orientation: Bisexual
Personality: Fie can come across as very odd speaking and often flitting between subjects as they come to mind this makes her seem a bit airheaded but its far from the truth as due to her singular drive causes her to change her focus from one subject to the next if it means getting closer to what she seeks.
Starting Classes: Dark Mage
Starting Equipment: Flux, Fire, Vulenary
Bio: Fie was born to a family of scholars or so she liked to believe. She doesn’t know the true answer as she was orphaned from the time she was four years of age. With that said she has always been curious about things and how they worked magic was something that called to her something that she couldn’t explain readily. This curiosity is what drew her to studying magic as a whole. Thankfully growing up in New Capita was a blessing for this as her drive and study quickly netted her a small job at the library allowing her all the time to study the inner workings of magic. Elder magic came easy to her knowledge being the key factor in it something she thought fit her perfectly. Despite being shunned majority of the time for practicing “dark magic” and as such considered “evil” or “not right”. She was always eager to correct and or educate those seeking knowledge on the esoteric branch of magic. |
49,013 | 1,323 | 43 | 1,792 | 1,093 | ---On A Ship---
"There isn't anything that I need per se. I just realized upon seeing you that we never really had the time to converse in the past week, and late as it is, I thought it a good idea to amend that now."
Keerin was quite amused at the Pegasus Knight's words and it elicited a small smile on the Cleric's face. She thought she would be mostly ignored in the entirety of the adventure considering the entire week but apparently someone was just waiting for the right moment.
"I'm Rosalia, and I--belatedly--am looking forward to working with you."
The Pegasus Knight extended a hand for Keerin to shake which the latter did. "Likewise, Miss Rosalia. I am Keerin." She also introduced herself. "Please do not hesitate to rely on me. Though seeing as I am the only one who can heal in this party, I think that would be a given." She said. "But I would also appreciate it if you do not carelessly get injured in battle."
"Anyway, it is nice meeting you Miss Rosalia. | Name: Keerin
Age: 19
Gender: Female
Sexual Orientation: Straight (and married, sort of.)
Personality:
Quiet and reserved but when push comes to shove, she will put her foot down and not move an inch (unless it becomes physical then you can move her all you want :3).
As such, Keerin can come off as secretive and antisocial. And she likely is as she will only say what is needed and be quiet at all the rest. One would be correct in that she is hiding a secret but it is a secret for a reason.
She will also not fight for any reason, not even to defend herself, but she will try to put others out of harm's way, even at the cost of her own life.
Class: Cleric
Bio:
Keerin will say she came from Santorini Island as your run-of-the-mill Cleric, healing people for a living but I'll tell you the truth with a poem. *ahem*
In a small kingdom, minor and unknown
Lived a young boy, heir to the throne
He had two retainers, beauties of the land
The best of friends, but both craved the prince's hand
The tired King himself, the prince's father
Loudly he declared, clear was his order
"The both of you shall marry my son!
Let this command be questioned by none!"
And thus, the strangest of marriages was sanctioned
But despite the King's words, its sanctity was questioned
Whispers of taboo and damnation
Turned to yells of reject and condemnation
One of the maidens, Keerin the Sage
Blind she was not to the kingdom's outrage
The unholy union of three souls
Was an act darker than the blackest coal
She could not bear to watch her beloved
To be spat on and decried for all their lives
And so she decided to end this curse
By leaving completely, uttering no words |
49,014 | 1,323 | 44 | 92 | 2,185 | Ade Daybreak
Interacting with :
As soon as she finished speaking another member of the adventurers came up and commented on what she had said. No matter how rude he was going to be it wouldn't affect her. Living in a bandit camp helped her build a very tough skin. All it really did was make her angrier especially with the mood she was currently in. At the very least she could say this buckethead bought her reason. It was true she wanted to fight these things, but only if they somehow got in the way of finding her sister.
Usually she would just silently listen to what he said, but she was pissed. She stood up with a fierce look in her eyes and said, "For your information I know plenty about weapons. I worked for people who fought practically daily. They taught each of us the basics of weapon use. How to clean them, sharpen them, repair them, and obviously how to use them." She stared up to the man unflinching. If he thought he could dissuade her or put her down he was going to get a rude awakening. Ade could hold a grudge, and if this guy threatened her chance to find her sister it wouldn't be good. She may not be able to outfight him but there are many ways to deal with people if they underestimate someone. "Oh, and if you want to crap out emeralds all ya gotta do is shove one down yer gullet." | Name:
Adelinde Daybreak
Age:
19
Gender:
Female
Sexual Orientation:
Heterosexual
Personality:
A very timid but passionate person. Ade is strong willed when it comes to certain things. She is stubborn and it seems as if no one can get her to change her mind without her fighting back. She is also a very caring individual that desires to help save as many people in whatever way she can. Not a very good liar, but her secrets are not easy to crack open.
Starting Classes:
Villager
Bio:
Ade's life is one full of heartbreak and sorrow not by any real fault of her own. In her family she was the fifth child and only had one younger than her. At first the peasant family lived peacefully in the kingdom of Solvnir until a group of bandits descended upon the small village.
The bandits killed every man that stood up to them and even killed a few of the women and children just to break the spirits of the people. The bandits had decided they were going to kill Ade's mother and eldest sister to prove a point to the somewhat large family. Her father and two oldest brothers wouldn't stay down and accept their fate deciding for a last ditch effort to take out the bandits and run. Sadly though the men didn't even take a single bandit down. All five were then killed leaving Ade, her older sister, and her younger sister alive.
The bandits chose to make the villagers left become workers for them. The next few years were spent cleaning clothes, cooking meals, and other similar tasks. A year before the Abyss came nearly half of the camp became ill of some disease that they were unable to identify. Among that number was Ade's older sister. Any attempt to heal the sick was a miserable failure, and they all soon realized that there was only one option left. Each ill, even the sick bandits, gave up their lives so that they wouldn't cause harm to the remaining people.
After this things became somewhat easier. The bandits were now being run by someone different due to the previous leader dying among the ill. This new leader decided that they would treat their servants better seeing as they were basically the backbone of the camp. (It most certainly had nothing to do with the fact that they outnumbered the bandits 3 to 1) Before all they ever got to eat tended to be scraps, but now they had the same nourishment as some of the youngest fighters. They were given new clothes so that they weren't stuck in rags. The bandits even got them beds and rooms of their own. The slaves turned into serfs. Not that much better, but at least they had a way to survive easier.
Somehow though it seemed as if the universe didn't want Ade to have a happy life. When the Abyss came everyone in the bandit camp panicked and ran. No one even bothered to attempt fighting which caused the weaker among the camp to be brutally slaughtered like wolves had caught their prey. As soon as Ade realized what was going on she grabbed her sister and began running. They were only lucky because the two were some of the quickest in the camp from having to run back and forth between different areas of the camp during the day. Ade saw a horse tied to a post going crazy. She ran over to it and forced her sister to get on. She untied the horse, but before she could get on the horse took off.
She started to run after it but to no avail. By the time she stopped running the camp was no where in sight. She fell to her knees weeping loudly that she lost her final family member. If one were to ask her and she actually tried to answer she wouldn't have any clue how long she actually sat there. As night started to fall she could hear the noises of those monsters from behind, but she couldn't bring herself to look. Suddenly though a small group of soldiers stumbled upon her. They asked her so many questions, but she couldn't even bring herself to speak. They sat her on one of the horses and took her to the closest port sending her to the capital. |
49,015 | 1,323 | 45 | 351 | 2,364 | Artyom Barkov
Interacting:
To say that Artyom wasn't moved by her 'experience' with weapons would have been an understatement. While he didn't show it the fire and passion that she displayed actually gave him pause in disregarding her completely; While her complete lack of fighting experience was still a major handicap and would be the primary basis upon which he made his decision, the spirit she showed suggested that such a thing could and would be overcome if given enough time to grow...
Of course Bowman started to speak up about some nonsense, but he largely ignored the man in favor of narrowing his focused gaze on the woman herself. Wheels were turning in his mind before he spoke again... a little more respect in his tone then before. "A complete lack of practical fighting experience is a liability that is likely to result in not just your death but the deaths of other people in the squad. It normally takes several weeks minimum of training with a weapon before I would consider you competent enough with it to send you into an area where you might end up fighting something. It also doesn't help that you would be trained for fighting on a ship rather then on dry land, which might not seem like much difference but there is enough of one that it wouldn't do you any favors. The cold hard truth of the matter is that we don't have the time, resources or room to train you properly with a weapon before we land on hostile shores."
A small, thoughtful little grin appeared on his face as he quickly added "That said... I'm willing to cut you a deal. At the moment we don't need another meathead who knows how to put the pointy end of something into an enemy. What we need is another healer. So here's the deal; For the rest of this trip, you'll be learning everything you can from the cleric on board about how to fill such a role on the battlefield and if she declares you a competent enough healer to be trusted with such a role by the time we arrive, you'll be allowed to come with us as an equal team member. If not, you're staying on the boat for your own safety and the safety of everyone around you. Sound good?" | Name: Artyom Barkov
Appearance:
Age:25
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Pansexual
Personality: Brash, somewhat arrogant and (if he believes himself to be right) rather headstrong, Artyom is not a man who backs down easily. His career as a professional mercenary as also left him as something of a 'Moral Void', having committed several jobs over the years that others might considered horrible without feeling a twinge of guilt; He manages to do this because he views himself as little more then a tool akin to an axe. After all, an axe doesn't care if it is chopping into wood, the skull of a wolf or the ribcage of a enemy, only that its wielder cleans it and ensures that it is in good condition.
He also believes that actions taken to help others should be done in as discrete a fashion as possible, both for the sake of the pride of those that are being helped and because if someone is making a big deal out of being charitable to others, they aren't doing it to actually help them.
Starting Classes: Mercenary
Starting Equipment: Iron sword and Vulenary.
Bio:
Artyom was born in the nation of Rjaskav in a rather poor, downtrodden village who's glory days were long passed with when the local silver mine ran dry. Opportunities to eat a steady meal were few and far between and as soon as Artyom was old enough to be considered a man when he turned thirteen he was given what his family could spare before being booted at the door to fend for himself so that his younger brothers and sisters could have more to eat.
With no future in his birth village, Artyom traveled towards the nearest city and by chance signed up with a mercenary band that was recruiting there. For over a decade he happily served with the Sunset Axe Company, occasionally fighting a battle with Solvnir but more often then not being employed to handle... more local disputes.
The onset of the Abyss was something of a short boon for the Sunset Axe company; They were able to make a killing protecting the wealthy from the onset of nightmarish horrors that came from the darkness at first, but after one battle went horribly wrong most of the company died and it was quickly decided that now was a good as time as any to retire with as much of their loot as they could. Fleeing towards New Capita, Artyom found himself without... well, anything to do. Granted he still had enough money to keep himself going for a while before that became a problem, but sooner or later he was going to have to address that. |
49,016 | 1,323 | 46 | 544 | 1,477 | Kieran Hishamie
(interacting with everyone)
Kieran smiled onm the outside but on the inside he cringed ever so slightly. Kieran could admire nerves and could appreciate someone who likes to tale charge, leaves less work for him, but this guy was being pretty rude. Not only to himself, he could deal with that, but with the new girl as well. He was sure the new girl could take care of herself and didnt need him butting in but what the heck, its not like he could make the situation. Kieran stepped up and snapped his fingers a few times in front of the guys face. He then cocked his head to the side and crossed his arms. "Yoo hoo! Hi, fellow adventurer speaking, kinda said words you basically ignored. Maybe we shouldnt try forcing anyone to do anything they dont want to do. If anything we should probably put this to a vote for the entire group. This isnt a dictatorship this a democracy, where we are all have a vote."
Kieran narrowed his eyes and smiled. "I mean....that is how you see it right?" | Name: Kieran Hishamie
Appearance:
Age: 22
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
Personality: Kieran is very sarcastic and loves to make light of serious situations. His quick wit and sharp tongue often land him in more trouble than not.
Starting Classes: Archer
Bio: Kieran was born to moderately average family, neither known nor unknown. They never had more than enough but never less than what was needed. It was an average life, no danger, and a secure future......and Kieran hated it. Kieran yearned for adventure, and his heart and mind always told him to venture out into places he has never been. He was born and raised in the South of New Capita, on a small farm not too far away from a settlement. At age thirteen Kieran packed up a few belongings, picked up a small wooden bow, and after saying goodbye to his parents. He then travelled to the other nearby islands, going on many adventures and experiencing life. He developed his archery skills as the years went on, as well as his hunting abilites. When the Abyss let out creatures, Kieran decided to quit adventuring so far away from home and stay in New Capita. |
49,017 | 1,323 | 47 | 995 | 1,712 | Troe Revinah
first: Then: Everybody I guess
"Interestingly enough, that's pretty similar to my own idea." Troe said, clearly pleased that he wasn't the only one with that line of thought.
"Though, there is one difference from what I was thinking. I'd have to see whatever these things are to confirm it, but I believe it's linked to the few side notes I found in that book. It mentioned something of a space between worlds that is devoid of any light. It wasn't anything substantial, but the way some people described these things and the darkness they brought along with them just seemed to click. I just have to actually get a good look myself...and maybe find that book if that's even possible."
Troe looked toward where one of the other people that had come along was talking about forcing people to do things and votes and such. He didn't really understand what that was all about, but he did see a girl that he hadn't before they left.
"Err...Excuse me, what's going on now?" He asked the three that were arguing. | Name: Troe Revinah
Age: 20
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
Personality: Troe can be an incredibly cold sort, but if one were to observe carefully, they would likely notice how protective he is of his allies. On the outside he seems to be studious, though more often than not he reads for pleasure instead by hiding stories inside his text books and tomes.
Class: Mage
Starting equipment: Wind Tome, Vulenary
Bio: Troe was born to a high family in Rjaskav which, for better or worse, exempted him from the war. Instead he took a path that was rare for inhabitants of Irinoth, magic. Most aristocrats were either knights or lazy good for nothings that considered the battles that took place as a spectator sport. After a few years of practice he learned that he had a knack for it despite his home's general distaste for magic. Eventually he decided that instead of using his parents' wealth to order books from New Capita, he'd just go to where the books were. Of course, this complicated things with his family as they didn't approve of their youngest embarking to a foreign land. This eventually led to Troe taking a bag filled with money and stowing away on a trader's ship to the northernmost island.
A few years in New Capita saw Troe working at a library in order to have easy access to the study materials as well as a few books for leisure reading. While he had plenty of money and a number of invitations to noble houses because of his lineage. All of that pomp and circumstance would have simply distracted him from his stories...and to a lesser extent his studies.
The news of his kingdom's fall may not have reached him just yet, but on some level he already knows. Perhaps that is why he has evaded people for some time, as though an outside source confirming the news would make it real. |
49,018 | 1,323 | 48 | 351 | 2,364 | Artyom Barkov
Interacting:
The clicking of fingers in his face from the bowman, alongside the dribble about this somehow being a 'democracy' caused Artyom to turn on the man quickly while all his vision saw was red, his hand tightening into a fist that he aimed to drive into the archer's stomach as a growl escaped his throat. "This is not a democracy! We are literally going into the shattered, monster covered remains of the homelands of most of the people here, including mine! Take this seriously you twat!"
He made no more to follow up the sudden assault, panting a bit from his yell that caused his armor to creak from the raising and falling of his chest. For the moment, he didn't seem to notice anyone else around him. | Name: Artyom Barkov
Appearance:
Age:25
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Pansexual
Personality: Brash, somewhat arrogant and (if he believes himself to be right) rather headstrong, Artyom is not a man who backs down easily. His career as a professional mercenary as also left him as something of a 'Moral Void', having committed several jobs over the years that others might considered horrible without feeling a twinge of guilt; He manages to do this because he views himself as little more then a tool akin to an axe. After all, an axe doesn't care if it is chopping into wood, the skull of a wolf or the ribcage of a enemy, only that its wielder cleans it and ensures that it is in good condition.
He also believes that actions taken to help others should be done in as discrete a fashion as possible, both for the sake of the pride of those that are being helped and because if someone is making a big deal out of being charitable to others, they aren't doing it to actually help them.
Starting Classes: Mercenary
Starting Equipment: Iron sword and Vulenary.
Bio:
Artyom was born in the nation of Rjaskav in a rather poor, downtrodden village who's glory days were long passed with when the local silver mine ran dry. Opportunities to eat a steady meal were few and far between and as soon as Artyom was old enough to be considered a man when he turned thirteen he was given what his family could spare before being booted at the door to fend for himself so that his younger brothers and sisters could have more to eat.
With no future in his birth village, Artyom traveled towards the nearest city and by chance signed up with a mercenary band that was recruiting there. For over a decade he happily served with the Sunset Axe Company, occasionally fighting a battle with Solvnir but more often then not being employed to handle... more local disputes.
The onset of the Abyss was something of a short boon for the Sunset Axe company; They were able to make a killing protecting the wealthy from the onset of nightmarish horrors that came from the darkness at first, but after one battle went horribly wrong most of the company died and it was quickly decided that now was a good as time as any to retire with as much of their loot as they could. Fleeing towards New Capita, Artyom found himself without... well, anything to do. Granted he still had enough money to keep himself going for a while before that became a problem, but sooner or later he was going to have to address that. |
49,019 | 1,323 | 49 | 544 | 1,477 | Cael Augire
Interacting:
Cael had been spending a good portion of his time out in the city, looking for possible places to eat while in town. He had a fascination with foreign foods and was curious if anything here was particularly different than in New Capita. He'd found some small vendors selling smoked fish in the streets and he purchased some on a whim. He knew that Markus would be looking for ingredients as well, so he tried to find fresh vegetables and fruits for the man to use. The Myrmidon also purchased some ginger and tea leaves to help ease his minor seasickness. On his way back into the port Cael ran into Li, one of his companions that he'd gotten to know a little about during their trip.
After speaking briefly to Li, Cael noticed the raised voices on the ship. He could hear something about a democracy before he heard Artyom yell at the Archer. Cael groaned, shifting the box of supplies he'd had in his hands. "Seriously?" He asked as he stepped onto the deck. "What in the name of hell are you two fighting about? We're not even halfway into this trip and people are already screaming." The young man's voice came out annoyed as he placed the box down, before noticing the new face.
"Stowaway, huh? I'm assuming she's trying to join us."
Cael's eyes glanced around. Most, if not all, of the party was at least within earshot. "Trial by combat." The words passed through his lips with practiced ease. Looking to Artyom, he nodded. "Surely that will tell you if she is worth the rations. You're a capable warrior and we have a Cleric on hand." He'd been tested in the same way before, it was a fair way to see if someone was worth keeping around. Looking around, Cael looked to the Archer. "Unless you have a better idea that would also tell us if she's worth keeping around. This is only a scouting operation, but that doesn't mean we need weak links. We could be attacked by pirates on the way there, or noticed by the enemy before we're even ashore." | Name: Kieran Hishamie
Appearance:
Age: 22
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
Personality: Kieran is very sarcastic and loves to make light of serious situations. His quick wit and sharp tongue often land him in more trouble than not.
Starting Classes: Archer
Bio: Kieran was born to moderately average family, neither known nor unknown. They never had more than enough but never less than what was needed. It was an average life, no danger, and a secure future......and Kieran hated it. Kieran yearned for adventure, and his heart and mind always told him to venture out into places he has never been. He was born and raised in the South of New Capita, on a small farm not too far away from a settlement. At age thirteen Kieran packed up a few belongings, picked up a small wooden bow, and after saying goodbye to his parents. He then travelled to the other nearby islands, going on many adventures and experiencing life. He developed his archery skills as the years went on, as well as his hunting abilites. When the Abyss let out creatures, Kieran decided to quit adventuring so far away from home and stay in New Capita. |
49,020 | 1,323 | 50 | 544 | 1,477 | Kieran Hishamie
(Interacting with )
Kieran sighed when his comrade reacted violently, and said harsh things. Why did people believe that this was the only way to have a proper conversation? And he was just trying to help, do his part, help out the new person. This was a recon mission no one was going to die a glorious death on the war field, soaked in the blood of his or her enemies. They needed to stick together, trust each other, and they would all be able to do their job undetected and get home alive without a scratch on them. Then they could go home as rich as a king or go and do....whatever. Fight the good fight, go on more adventures.
Kieran saw the punch coming, or at least saw all the signs of a punch coming. Anger, diluted pupils, shaking, fist tightening, abrupt moving. Kieran was able to side step the punch, then grabbed the mans arm with both hands. He swept the leg, causing the man to fall forward, which Kieran used to force the man to flip over and land on his back. Kieran smiled and took a step back. "That was not necessary. And this IS a democracy you......," Kieran scratched his head ,"person......sorry insults are not really my thing. This cant be a dictatorship, or else we will all die. Ive seen what happens when one person has to make all the decisions in war. And honestly after all that, if you think anyone wants to elect you as our leader your...well....just not very smart. Also im hurt."
Kieran feigned an injury of the heart. "I take this very seriously. I mean I wore fresh undergarments, I shined my bow and quiver, I am ready."
Kieran turned to the third face and fourth faces, the ones wanting a trial by combat and the one wanting to know whats happening. He smiled and talked to both. "We are simply having some miscommunication here my good man. I thought he was speaking about taking an arrow to the knee, and I got defensive because of my weapon of choice." Kieran laughed and motioned dramatically with his hands. "And she wont be a weak link. Look in her eyes, she has a fire in them. I mean cmon she looks like she would rather die than not complete whatever goal she came out here for. She stowed away, spent days with little food, water, and sunlight, and the minute she gets fresh air you want her to fight? Kick her off? Thats just the definition of mean." | Name: Kieran Hishamie
Appearance:
Age: 22
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
Personality: Kieran is very sarcastic and loves to make light of serious situations. His quick wit and sharp tongue often land him in more trouble than not.
Starting Classes: Archer
Bio: Kieran was born to moderately average family, neither known nor unknown. They never had more than enough but never less than what was needed. It was an average life, no danger, and a secure future......and Kieran hated it. Kieran yearned for adventure, and his heart and mind always told him to venture out into places he has never been. He was born and raised in the South of New Capita, on a small farm not too far away from a settlement. At age thirteen Kieran packed up a few belongings, picked up a small wooden bow, and after saying goodbye to his parents. He then travelled to the other nearby islands, going on many adventures and experiencing life. He developed his archery skills as the years went on, as well as his hunting abilites. When the Abyss let out creatures, Kieran decided to quit adventuring so far away from home and stay in New Capita. |
49,021 | 1,323 | 51 | 995 | 1,712 | Troe Revinah
Inteacting with Everybody I guess
"Trial by combat? A bit barbaric, but...If bringing her along is such a big issue it may be the best option. Though it would be unfair to just toss her into it out of the blue. She's likely a bit malnourished after hiding all this time after all." Troe said approaching the newcomer. Glaring a bit at Kieran for his carefree comments in this situation, he sighed. "If this were a military vessel all three of you would likely be tossed overboard. But thanfkully this isn't a dictatorship, or really a democracy for that matter. We're an alliance, not a nation. That being said..." Troe's expression softened a bit "I know you've been harassed quite a bit, but I have to ask your name and purpose here."
Stowaway or not, it would be wrong to deny her the chance to plead her case. After all, they were simply adventurers chasing a bounty, not any type of official force. The only problem he really saw was that the bounty that many on the ship were after was essentially a race. If some other group of adventurers got there first and came back with the needed information...well there wasn't any type of consolation prize. Not that Troe cared, he had essentially forfeited the bounty before even boarding the ship. | Name: Troe Revinah
Age: 20
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
Personality: Troe can be an incredibly cold sort, but if one were to observe carefully, they would likely notice how protective he is of his allies. On the outside he seems to be studious, though more often than not he reads for pleasure instead by hiding stories inside his text books and tomes.
Class: Mage
Starting equipment: Wind Tome, Vulenary
Bio: Troe was born to a high family in Rjaskav which, for better or worse, exempted him from the war. Instead he took a path that was rare for inhabitants of Irinoth, magic. Most aristocrats were either knights or lazy good for nothings that considered the battles that took place as a spectator sport. After a few years of practice he learned that he had a knack for it despite his home's general distaste for magic. Eventually he decided that instead of using his parents' wealth to order books from New Capita, he'd just go to where the books were. Of course, this complicated things with his family as they didn't approve of their youngest embarking to a foreign land. This eventually led to Troe taking a bag filled with money and stowing away on a trader's ship to the northernmost island.
A few years in New Capita saw Troe working at a library in order to have easy access to the study materials as well as a few books for leisure reading. While he had plenty of money and a number of invitations to noble houses because of his lineage. All of that pomp and circumstance would have simply distracted him from his stories...and to a lesser extent his studies.
The news of his kingdom's fall may not have reached him just yet, but on some level he already knows. Perhaps that is why he has evaded people for some time, as though an outside source confirming the news would make it real. |
49,022 | 1,323 | 52 | 1,448 | 3,924 | Everyone around Nick just started talking after he finished talking to the cook with a dragon, and the spear man. The subject seemed to be about an unassuming, young woman who Nick could have sworn looked scared at some point, even if right now, she looked angry... even then, she didn't even seem to have a weapon with her, yet. The arrow user seemed to welcome her on board, but a few others seemed to object to that as the boat came to a halt near an unfamiliar island. "Um... I don't think she could do much to us, even if she tried. She could be helpful to us, but I don't think letting her on board could do much to hurt us. I'm with arrow guy on this one," Nick said to the group as he made his way over to said archer, and sat down, as he normally would. I wonder if she's seen a 'talking fox', before... Nick thought as he looked up at everyone, his current and usual form being somewhat shorter than humans. For almost no reason, Nick decided to sniff the air, a bit, and it seemed like someone on the ship, oddly enough, smelled of birds and... much to Nick's disgust... horses. Since the crowd on the boat was unexpectedly large, and they had a wide variety of smells, Nick couldn't really pinpoint who, exactly it was that smelled like that, but, he thought he'd figure it out, eventually. Do the humans usually deal with horses? I know they deal with dragons... so... maybe they don't. It doesn't seem like they'd have any reason to ride a horse, when they can ride dragons... right? Nick pondered as the smells all seemed to blend together, obscuring who had which smell, and making finding out who dealt with horses that much more difficult.
, , , , , (any others?) | Name: Nicholas "Nick" (this character lacks a last name)
Appearance: While he's usually in his fox form, when he's actually in his human form (which he hasn't actually done, yet), he looks like a rather scrawny, pale, somewhat tall man. His orange hair seems to match his fox form's fur, and he has brown eyes. He typically wears whatever happens to be convenient at the time, often wearing dull-colored peasant clothes when forced into his human form. Like others of his kind, he still has his ears and tail while in human form.
Age: 20
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Straight
Personality: Nick is usually friendly, curious about things, and more than eager to try new things. He's also a bit too talkative for something that's supposed to be good at hiding. Ever since a certain event (detailed in the Bio section), he's had a hatred of horses, and ever since another event, he's harbored a strong disliking of wolves, not to mention people who turn into them. Nick also despises almost all vegetables, though he doesn't mind most fruit for some reason... he will, however, eat any meat, no matter how raw, even if he's in his human form, which can be dangerous for him.
Starting Class: Kitsune
Starting equipment: Beaststone, Vulnerary, Bamboo Pole
Bio: Nick was born into a rather isolated den, with few members outside of his immediate family, and fewer still interaction with humans. In fact, he's only heard them in name, and passed them off as a sort of fairy tale, something that's not real, like magic, or forest fairies. Regardless of this, he and the rest of his kin still learned what they called the 'language of humans', which Nick had to laugh at, since, again, he thought they weren't real. Once, after his lessons, and during play time, he and his sister Hannah were throwing around a bamboo pole, and, after a few rounds, Nick caught it, and a strange, armored thing riding on a horse ran by. He thought nothing of it, at first, and at first, he was more disappointed that he couldn't catch up to the thing to eat it... but then he tried to throw the stick to his sister... and she didn't catch it, ever. Nick walked over to her, only to see her dead, her pelt taken, and some sort of weird, pointy stick through her head.
He returned home with the bamboo pole, which they were using as a stick, as well as some mental scars... he thought horses were cowards, always running away whenever they saw a snake, or a moving bush, or even a kitsune, but that one... that one was out for blood, his sister's blood. He almost couldn't believe it, and the shock of his sister dying made him silent for the next five years. His parents and other siblings tried their best to cheer him up, to get Nick to speak, once more, but for five years, their attempts failed. He even refused to stray from his den, even during playtime. A few of his siblings, his mother, and his father all gave up long before he said his first words after that, and those words were "The horses will pay," this was bittersweet to his family, on one hand, Nick was speaking, again, but on the other, he just swore vengeance against an entire species.
From that day forward, he vowed to take revenge by killing any horses he saw, and, just his luck, it seemed like he had a knack for knowing where to attack them, and he's had quite a bit of success in hunting the cowardly things, though, he never saw one with another armored... thing on it, ever again. After finally speaking again, he tried to describe it to his mother and father, but they seemed to call that thing a 'human'... but that didn't make sense, those things were only in stories, like dragons and flying horses, right? A few years passed, and misfortune struck his family once more, as wolves, or something that looked somewhat like a wolf, at least to Nick found their den, and destroyed everything in sight, managing to kill Nick's big brother, and poor Nick wasn't fast or strong enough to stop the strange almost wolflike creatures, so he and the rest of his family did the only thing they could... they ran, like cowards. At first, it almost seemed like Nick was going to do the same thing he did with the horse and the thing, that is, fall silent for years, and then declare that he would make the species extinct, but, once he got far enough away from them, he simply asked "Those things are our enemy right?" to which, his family nodded, and he responded to their nod with a simple "Good,"
Nick has been wandering around in New Capita ever since that incident, and, even after having explored a decent chunk of the place, things still manage to surprise him... such as these strange, giant wooden things in the water, and dens for unknown creatures made of stone and wood. He didn't know what to call a place that had that many dens, but, he just had to get closer, right? Whatever these things held had to be interesting, just based on the design... and worst come to worst, he'd just face off against one of those weird wolf things, again, and have to run away if they're too strong, right? Nothing bad could possibly happen if he tried to enter one of these dens... right? |
49,023 | 1,323 | 53 | 92 | 2,185 | Ade Daybreak
Interacting with :
Everything this big meathead was saying just kept pissing her off. She wanted to jam a dagger right in his throat. The archer honestly wasn't helping at all. He was just being annoying. Then another person walked up just before the meathead lashed out at the archer. If what he said was true and he lost people then he would understand that she had to be there. Then someone else walked up. The only person who seemed at all logical. If it came to a trial by combat, Ade knew she would lose but could show that she had to be here. However, when this fourth person mentioned it was merely a scouting mission that just pissed Ade off even more. Ade looked around the boat and other than the animals she was certain that she was easily faster than all of them.
Ade was getting ready to speak when suddenly a fox trotted up to them and began speaking. She jumped a little in shock and looked at the fox as it sniffed the air. They have a talking fox? She then turned back to the group after a moment of thought and said, "You people are adventurers. So, meathead, no matter how much you say you care about everyone making it back I will never believe you. I bet the majority of you are here for the money. Fine. I don't care about the money. Just get me there and we can part ways. If you want me to work for the trip then I can easily do anything. But if you think you're kicking me off this boat, or making me nurse your wounds you have got another thing coming." | Name:
Adelinde Daybreak
Age:
19
Gender:
Female
Sexual Orientation:
Heterosexual
Personality:
A very timid but passionate person. Ade is strong willed when it comes to certain things. She is stubborn and it seems as if no one can get her to change her mind without her fighting back. She is also a very caring individual that desires to help save as many people in whatever way she can. Not a very good liar, but her secrets are not easy to crack open.
Starting Classes:
Villager
Bio:
Ade's life is one full of heartbreak and sorrow not by any real fault of her own. In her family she was the fifth child and only had one younger than her. At first the peasant family lived peacefully in the kingdom of Solvnir until a group of bandits descended upon the small village.
The bandits killed every man that stood up to them and even killed a few of the women and children just to break the spirits of the people. The bandits had decided they were going to kill Ade's mother and eldest sister to prove a point to the somewhat large family. Her father and two oldest brothers wouldn't stay down and accept their fate deciding for a last ditch effort to take out the bandits and run. Sadly though the men didn't even take a single bandit down. All five were then killed leaving Ade, her older sister, and her younger sister alive.
The bandits chose to make the villagers left become workers for them. The next few years were spent cleaning clothes, cooking meals, and other similar tasks. A year before the Abyss came nearly half of the camp became ill of some disease that they were unable to identify. Among that number was Ade's older sister. Any attempt to heal the sick was a miserable failure, and they all soon realized that there was only one option left. Each ill, even the sick bandits, gave up their lives so that they wouldn't cause harm to the remaining people.
After this things became somewhat easier. The bandits were now being run by someone different due to the previous leader dying among the ill. This new leader decided that they would treat their servants better seeing as they were basically the backbone of the camp. (It most certainly had nothing to do with the fact that they outnumbered the bandits 3 to 1) Before all they ever got to eat tended to be scraps, but now they had the same nourishment as some of the youngest fighters. They were given new clothes so that they weren't stuck in rags. The bandits even got them beds and rooms of their own. The slaves turned into serfs. Not that much better, but at least they had a way to survive easier.
Somehow though it seemed as if the universe didn't want Ade to have a happy life. When the Abyss came everyone in the bandit camp panicked and ran. No one even bothered to attempt fighting which caused the weaker among the camp to be brutally slaughtered like wolves had caught their prey. As soon as Ade realized what was going on she grabbed her sister and began running. They were only lucky because the two were some of the quickest in the camp from having to run back and forth between different areas of the camp during the day. Ade saw a horse tied to a post going crazy. She ran over to it and forced her sister to get on. She untied the horse, but before she could get on the horse took off.
She started to run after it but to no avail. By the time she stopped running the camp was no where in sight. She fell to her knees weeping loudly that she lost her final family member. If one were to ask her and she actually tried to answer she wouldn't have any clue how long she actually sat there. As night started to fall she could hear the noises of those monsters from behind, but she couldn't bring herself to look. Suddenly though a small group of soldiers stumbled upon her. They asked her so many questions, but she couldn't even bring herself to speak. They sat her on one of the horses and took her to the closest port sending her to the capital. |
49,024 | 1,323 | 54 | 2,325 | 2,409 | Fie Testarossa
Fie kept her mouth shut it was none of her business anyway if they wanted to make a big deal about the whole situation let them a person proves their worth in many ways let it be said that despite that technically being who they were a villager or someone else it mattered not. "I will like to say that this entire thing is a waste of time." Fie stated her voiced flat and her stare as empty trial by combat kicking someone off it was all just a bunch of crap spewing from people who has dreams of grandeur. "Also while i'm at it while yes this is a scouting mission don't act like we were chosen or some such nonsense this was all optional not mandatory so a trial by combat just due to one extra person is stupid." Fie continued this was getting on her nerves people tend to overreact at the oddest things it seemed.
(at everyone I assume) | Name:Fie Testarossa
Appearance:
Age: 20
Gender: Female
Sexual Orientation: Bisexual
Personality: Fie can come across as very odd speaking and often flitting between subjects as they come to mind this makes her seem a bit airheaded but its far from the truth as due to her singular drive causes her to change her focus from one subject to the next if it means getting closer to what she seeks.
Starting Classes: Dark Mage
Starting Equipment: Flux, Fire, Vulenary
Bio: Fie was born to a family of scholars or so she liked to believe. She doesn’t know the true answer as she was orphaned from the time she was four years of age. With that said she has always been curious about things and how they worked magic was something that called to her something that she couldn’t explain readily. This curiosity is what drew her to studying magic as a whole. Thankfully growing up in New Capita was a blessing for this as her drive and study quickly netted her a small job at the library allowing her all the time to study the inner workings of magic. Elder magic came easy to her knowledge being the key factor in it something she thought fit her perfectly. Despite being shunned majority of the time for practicing “dark magic” and as such considered “evil” or “not right”. She was always eager to correct and or educate those seeking knowledge on the esoteric branch of magic. |
49,025 | 1,323 | 55 | 351 | 2,364 | Artyom Barkov
Interacting:
For a moment, Artyom blinked as he somehow managed to find himself on his back. Despite the sheer level of embarrassment that he felt in that he had somehow managed to be flipped onto his back, he had to acknowledge that he had no one to blame for that but himself; He should have planted his feet and made the blow a quick strike in order to prevent even the slightest chance of this happening but he hadn't thought it required. After all he was wearing metal armor, the blow had been gut punch aimed upwards and the man he was trying to hit was a freaking archer, he didn't seem the kind of person to have the physical strength required to pull the motion off.
He also made a decision on what was going to happen in the future, but for now he grit his teeth and pushed himself back up as he glared at the arrogant, sarcastic asshole that he was already regretting allowing to come on board. "It's called the chain of command dumb ass. If you try and run a military operation via committee everyone tends to end up dead." He growled scathingly before turning to everyone else to seemingly explain his position despite the fact that they should have seen the common sense of it naturally.
His words were slow and clear, as if he was trying to explain to children why touching fire is bad. "If we bring her along, she'll be factored into any plans we make. If she isn't up to the task and dies or causes someone else to break away from what they are doing to save her ass, that creates openings that will get people killed." Turning to look at Cael whom had once again proven why he was his favorite member of this team, he nodded his head in agreement. "Trial by combat sounds acceptable."
Turning to look at the girl that had started this whole argument due to stowing away, he crossed his arms as he explained "Name your weapon of choice. We'll have anyone who uses one fight you to see what you've got. To answer your question in advance I fully expect you to fight in your current condition, it's your own fault for sneaking aboard like a rat and not trying to join up legitimately before we started out." | Name: Artyom Barkov
Appearance:
Age:25
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Pansexual
Personality: Brash, somewhat arrogant and (if he believes himself to be right) rather headstrong, Artyom is not a man who backs down easily. His career as a professional mercenary as also left him as something of a 'Moral Void', having committed several jobs over the years that others might considered horrible without feeling a twinge of guilt; He manages to do this because he views himself as little more then a tool akin to an axe. After all, an axe doesn't care if it is chopping into wood, the skull of a wolf or the ribcage of a enemy, only that its wielder cleans it and ensures that it is in good condition.
He also believes that actions taken to help others should be done in as discrete a fashion as possible, both for the sake of the pride of those that are being helped and because if someone is making a big deal out of being charitable to others, they aren't doing it to actually help them.
Starting Classes: Mercenary
Starting Equipment: Iron sword and Vulenary.
Bio:
Artyom was born in the nation of Rjaskav in a rather poor, downtrodden village who's glory days were long passed with when the local silver mine ran dry. Opportunities to eat a steady meal were few and far between and as soon as Artyom was old enough to be considered a man when he turned thirteen he was given what his family could spare before being booted at the door to fend for himself so that his younger brothers and sisters could have more to eat.
With no future in his birth village, Artyom traveled towards the nearest city and by chance signed up with a mercenary band that was recruiting there. For over a decade he happily served with the Sunset Axe Company, occasionally fighting a battle with Solvnir but more often then not being employed to handle... more local disputes.
The onset of the Abyss was something of a short boon for the Sunset Axe company; They were able to make a killing protecting the wealthy from the onset of nightmarish horrors that came from the darkness at first, but after one battle went horribly wrong most of the company died and it was quickly decided that now was a good as time as any to retire with as much of their loot as they could. Fleeing towards New Capita, Artyom found himself without... well, anything to do. Granted he still had enough money to keep himself going for a while before that became a problem, but sooner or later he was going to have to address that. |
49,026 | 1,323 | 56 | 995 | 1,712 | Troe Revinah
Inteacting with Everybody I guess
"I would understand that if we were facing something we could face outright, but all of the reports from the refugees showed that even the most experienced warriors were overwhelmed. While a trial by combat seems like the only way you'd be willing to allow her along, I'll have to object given your reasoning." Troe said retracting his earlier statement after hearing from the others. "It would be foolish to assume her combat ability is going to be of any consequence in a mission that is going to require us to avoid conflict at all cost. Besides, she's only hitching a ride for the trip and...I have a better compromise in mind." He continued. Her ability to fight would likely not be an issue, not that he doubted it anyway.
"Miss, I'd like to ask something difficult...You are a refugee, correct? If so, I'd like to ask a few questions about what you witnessed. Any information, even if it only confirms things we already know could be vital."He turned back towards Artyom. "If she can do that much, I will personally vouch for her passage."
He doubted Artyom would agree to such a trade, but he also knew that it wouldn't matter. He had respect for the tenacity this girl showed, even if it was a bit foolish sounding.
"Besides, I'm not exactly after the money either. I have questions that's answers can only be found back home. That being said, those answers will most likely be quite helpful in our mission." | Name: Troe Revinah
Age: 20
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
Personality: Troe can be an incredibly cold sort, but if one were to observe carefully, they would likely notice how protective he is of his allies. On the outside he seems to be studious, though more often than not he reads for pleasure instead by hiding stories inside his text books and tomes.
Class: Mage
Starting equipment: Wind Tome, Vulenary
Bio: Troe was born to a high family in Rjaskav which, for better or worse, exempted him from the war. Instead he took a path that was rare for inhabitants of Irinoth, magic. Most aristocrats were either knights or lazy good for nothings that considered the battles that took place as a spectator sport. After a few years of practice he learned that he had a knack for it despite his home's general distaste for magic. Eventually he decided that instead of using his parents' wealth to order books from New Capita, he'd just go to where the books were. Of course, this complicated things with his family as they didn't approve of their youngest embarking to a foreign land. This eventually led to Troe taking a bag filled with money and stowing away on a trader's ship to the northernmost island.
A few years in New Capita saw Troe working at a library in order to have easy access to the study materials as well as a few books for leisure reading. While he had plenty of money and a number of invitations to noble houses because of his lineage. All of that pomp and circumstance would have simply distracted him from his stories...and to a lesser extent his studies.
The news of his kingdom's fall may not have reached him just yet, but on some level he already knows. Perhaps that is why he has evaded people for some time, as though an outside source confirming the news would make it real. |
49,027 | 1,324 | 0 | 1,435 | 3,654 | 08.17.2016 Chicago, Allstate Arena
08.24.2016 Los Angeles, Staples Center
08.31.2016 Sacramento, Golden 1 Center | I see you!
The best things in life are dangerous, like me.
5' ¾", 106 lbs - 5'8", 135 lbs
2 years Developmental, will debut soon with her husband
3 Years at AWE, 2 years at Developmental. 5 years total.
|Birth Name |
» Alice Jane Slayer (Kennedy)
» Ariel Michelle Slayer (Flanagan)
|Hails From |
» Atlanta, GA
» April 17 (26)
» October 22 (23)
|Backstage Rep |
» You got all these sweethearts dressed as bitches, guess what? Ari is a fucking bitch on and off the ring. She does not like you. It takes her a LONG time to accept you into her world because your flaws are blaring red and she fucking hates it. Some people do not get the concept of personal space. If she's doing her own thing, don't interrupt her. She enjoys dark humor, other people's drama, and crude people. Constantly observing her surroundings, she will size you up before you approach her. Ruthless. Entitled. & Impatient. She was never fond of dealing with people, which is honestly her biggest weakness on the ring. Charisma, that is. It isn't something that comes naturally to her like it does for her little sister.
As flawed as Ari is, those she does let in, like her husband, Michael Flanagan, know that she does mean well, but due to personal experiences, her built mechanism of verbally lashing out at people to protect her own, has gotten to a point where she can't really break it down over night. Ari is a tough cookie and audaciously bold. A risk taker, through and through. A primadonna is an understatement of her personality and Ari refuses to be considered less than. She aims to be in the big leagues, even if it means she might break a few bones...
You see, she and Michael were already dating prior to their debut at AWE, which was near the same time. It wasn't hard for him to gain attraction because even if he leans more on the timid side when he's out of character, he's a phenomenal heel and it shined through since day 1. Ari, however, spent her first two years figuring out her image. She was simply a blank canvas, a doll of a woman, and a temperamental wrestler, who fought well enough to get her to the mid card but required A LOT of polishing, as she tried her downright best to 'find herself' in the ring.
A year ago, Michael and her got married, and for a year, the writers have been pushing her more toward his storyline to enhance his biker boy look and guess what? It's working. People are starting to see the character behind the bitch. While Ajax is the tail gunner of his motorcycle gang, Fallen Angels, she is his queen. The Bonnie to his Clyde, who knows her way around her gun, or in this case the ring, and isn't afraid to use that to her advantage. She's a tough-talking, quick-shooting criminal and is growing to be a machine gun-blazing woman who you better not underestimate. Whenever she's threatened, she doesn't even flinch, she jumps right in and marks her territory. Fearless and it's all thanks to the writers pushing her more in the direction of the rebel girl archetype because it's something Ariel can actually relate to.
Fun fact: She isn't fond of motorcycles, but for love, she'll get on one.
» Amore hasn't debuted yet, but her face is known backstage because of her sister. The young, energetic valet aspires to be as influential as Jezebel (FC: Jessa Hinton), who was the Faceless' on-screen eye candy and eventual wife. Jezebel may have made the Faceless seem more humane, but Amore? She wants to do more than be an accessory for her love. Revolutionize the role of valets all over! At the root of it all, Alice is a business woman, who doesn't just want to 'accompany' her husband when she's on the ring with him. She wants to get heavily involved in the action inside, outside, within the audience-- ANYWHERE. A dreamer, the doll aims to earn the loudest pops of the night. Her beloved Benjamin tells her she has a niche and that is her charisma. Her stage presence. When Amore is in the spotlight, there is no doubt people will be starstruck.
Sneaky, cunning, and without hesitation, Amore will do absolutely anything for Mordecai to heighten his chances of winning. It helps that she has one sexy act that no one can top. Rated R, sexy-goodness. She acts like a child, but moves her body like a woman. Her influence is undeniable and even if wrestling isn't her top skill (it's singing and acting), she will go down in history!
As for backstage? A lovable, naive, playful and misleading young adult. Careless and foolish. Accidental prone when she isn't performing. Alice doesn't want to grow up, so she'll act far younger than she is. Oh, and she's scary possessive over her husband.
|Other |
» FCs: Kerli Kõiv & Jana
» 721728 & 324C83
|Fighting Style |
» Ari keeps you on your toes, you never know what to expect and has a passion for power. Known for her agility, high stunts, and her attitude, Ari, from the get go, set her sight on cleaning up the Divas division, showing that girls were more than accessories and tools. Even her sister, who does strut her body like it's nobody's business, isn't just that. A body. Amore is a character, whose insanity and giggles will be what the people remember. Psychotic little girl trapped in a woman's form.
Meanwhile, Ari has commitment to excellence and wants to be recognized as a professional wrestler, with Ajax by her side. Her goal: to be one of the most vicious Divas of her era. She doesn't even have to be one of the stars, she just wants to be scary. Although she isn't there yet, she will continue to work her ass off. Her current success is all thanks to her athleticism, hotheaded personality, impressive arsenal of offensive maneuvers, and her husband's biker persona.
Ari has countless ways of finishing her opponents and she will not give into status quo. A true queen of the rebels.
|Signature Moves |
» Highside (Diving Hurricanrana)
» Ari Bomb (Lita Bomb)
» Eating Asphalt (Swanton Bomb)
» Helmet Head (Hardiac Arrest)
|Finisher |
» Boneyard Moonsault (Moonsault)
» New Prime (Widow's Peak)
|Theme |
» Whatever she had before, doesn't matter. Now she has Superhuman to match Ajax.
|Gimmick |
» As said earlier in backstage rep, Ari is Ax's Bonnie to his Clyde. His ride or die. They have a fiery dynamic and shower each other with attention. They are motivated by chasing the danger, excitement, and action of wrestling. He's the gun, she's the trigger. If Ari isn't happy, Ajax is pissed. He might be the King of the Hill but without his queen, the high of living it dangerous 24/7 isn't as addicting. They're into each other in a visceral and physical way. There is a sense of co-dependency and downright bat-shit insanity between these two. Ariel even went out of her way to get 'His' tattoo on her lower back, to match Michael's "Hers" tattoo on his arm, to add to their act (when he wraps his arm around her, the audience would know - she belongs to him). A psychotic and possessive love story where their need for one another is absolutely dangerous for anyone, including each other.
Soon enough, the audience will learn crazy runs in the Slayer family because when Amore makes her debut, they'll see that the blonde is light years ahead in the insanity department.
As for fashion sense? Ari is a daredevil biker chick. Leather jacket with the Fallen Angels symbol, bustiers to showcase her stomach and her back (especially when her coat is off), leather boots, denim, the color scheme black and white, bandannas, anything really that makes her look like a total badass.
|Face or Heel |
» Heel
|Job at AWE |
» Amore will be a valet for Mordecai, who is her husband off screen.
|Skills |
» Persistent and high physical stamina
Charming and full of energy, Alice is an energetic doer, cheerful and extremely spontaneous. A true woman of action. Even if she doesn't seem it, she has strong observational skills and a keen sense to other people's feelings. Quite the problem solver, regardless of her outlandish methods. This spirited blonde would like to think she's an excellent diplomat and negotiator, especially when it comes to her pitching ideas. By nature, she's too open and direct to deliberately manipulate someone (lies and manipulation is foreign to her, unless it's for an act), but she will fight her cause until there isn't any fight left in her.
» Improviser
Perceptive, witty, and clever. Rarely missing anything that is important, because she approaches everything with curiosity and interest, Alice will take impossible situations and make 'em great. Her memory for details and facts are impressive. She absorbs everything that interests her like a sponge, storing it in her noggin for later use.
» Dancing, acting, and gymnastic experience.
Pretty point blank, Alice kept her family busy by getting them to sign her up to as much as possible so she can get better at... life. Also, with such a busy schedule when she was younger, she didn't need to be home, which was a far more pleasant option than dealing with the turmoil. Her home life drew her insane. Convincing her parents to get her involved in the community was the easy part, making them part of it, her life, though? Not so much.
» Odd & blessed with boundless creativity
Alice has always been a little weirdo. Too much individuality for one girl. And yet, she doesn't know how to be any different. Sure, some of her creative ideas are concerning and creepy, but why should she limit herself? If her mind wants to run rampant, it should! Being different isn't a bad thing and Alice will never change for anyone.
|Looks & Style |
» Inspired by her aunt, who led a broken family with dignity and grace, Amore strives to be a visual masterpiece. Her aunt was a woman who carried whatever she wore like a queen. A queen who had an undeniable ability to live a life of pure kindness. Alice's goal, no matter where she is, or if she's being Amore or not, is to make her image timeless. Definitive and iconic, to where it is her trademark. Her look. A look that pushes boundaries and continues to evolve. Alice wants to be a trend setter, a walking fashion statement, and when people look at their television screen or see her on the ring, she wants them to recognize her immediately and maybe, just maybe, follow her as an example. If she can aspire others to walk with an air of confidence, loving who they were, while also not being afraid to explore out of the box, then her life would be more than fulfilled.
What more could you ask for? She's happily married, she has endless projects that make her smile, she's about to start the career of her life that will hopefully set her on a remarkable path of happiness and success, and if she's able to move someone or an entire audience in ways not many people can, then she can say she is more than satisfied with the life she's been given.
Hardships aside. Alice is a happy girl.
|Personality Traits |
» Visionary → Imaginative → Fun-Loving → Gregarious → Persistent → Dutiful (even if she is unbeknownst to the fact that she's a tease) → Exuberant → Trusting → Picky → Dependent → Reckless → Fearful (primarily of her husband leaving her)
|Favorite wrestler |
» She's biased. Her husband, even if he hasn't made his mark yet. Alice will make it known that he's HER favorite. |
49,028 | 1,324 | 1 | 2,573 | 1,662 | ‘Can you work 300 shows a year for six years non-stop?’
Of course, anything for this business.
‘Thanks, kid. I’ll owe you one.’
You’re welcome.
‘I know you’re working injured, and you need time off... but can you work this show anyway? I’ll owe you one. We can’t afford to have Drayden off the card.’
No problem, boss.
What a terrible decision. Drayden should have known that the end was near, and that working that beat up, that constantly, was a bad decision. That was why he’d pulled off of the live shows, aside from the rare show at MSG, or a special event overseas. For the most part, if it wasn’t on TV, he wasn’t there. And that was fine, they did good numbers anyway. Drayden was on his latest run as the champion when he’d worked the match a few nights before against Caiden Winters, a man Drayden had only wrestled once before then; but it’d been a barnburner, where Drayden had put him over clean, building a new star.
Almost two years later, they’d clashed again, at Judgment Day — four days ago, for the title. It’d been another 4.75 star match, where Drayden had to use a Burning Hammer after nearly four years since the last time he’d had to use it, to retire a legend. Drayden had gotten the pin, but unfortunately something had happened during the match:
Drayden’s knee had blown out, from the sheer weight of carrying the company over and over again, working endless shows, matches, special appearances… now he could barely walk, he needed his knee surgically repaired, and he had to go out to the fans and tell them that he was going away. To disappoint them. Torn ACL. Torn MCL. Torn medial meniscus.
Crutches. He was on crutches.
Drayden looked up from the title that he had laying on the floor by his feet, and over at his girlfriend, who was in their private dressing room with him. Yes, being him had perks. The private jet anywhere he wanted, a private bus, a private dressing room in every arena, on the better side of eight figures a year… he had earned this.
So had Barbie, but her job included a lot less hard… work. There was something hard involved.
Drayden let out a long sigh, before finally speaking and breaking the silence that had seemed eternal. “Maybe I should just work through the knee. I bet I can. I don’t want to surrender the title, what a fucking joke.” He said, growling out the last word as he grabbed the Gatorade he’d been drinking at, and threw it against the wall, watching it explode; explode like his head was right now.
Barbie took a step back and frowned at the colorful liquid that now stained and dripped down the wall. Fiery tempers were something the star couple had in common. The curvy blonde looked to her boyfriend now, her face softened and the frown drifted away. “No, baby. You can’t do that,” she took a few strides towards him to close the distance between them and smirked, “Wouldn’t be much fun fo’ me if you were on crutches forever. Let’s leave the sexy cane shtick to Doctuh House.” Barbie ran her fingers through his hair and scratched gently at his scalp with her perfectly manicured nails.
“Six months. Six entire months.” That seemed like an eternity, and to Drayden and his fans, it might as well be. Did absence truly make the heart grow fonder? Maybe. This would be, to the man, the ultimate test of that. What was he even going to do with himself for six months? “I don’t suppose you want to take six months off with me?” Hey, maybe baby doll would want a vacation. “At least I can power through physical therapy. Maybe I can make six months into four.”
Six months was a long time, they were in agreement there. “I know, it’s a long time…” Barbara said softly and straddled herself over his lap as he sat, careful to avoid his knee. She stroked his cheeks and then put her arms around his neck before speaking again. “Maybe I could take a few weeks off with you… but not the whole six months. I gotta make sure they remember us.” Crowds were fickle and quick to forget about things that weren’t constantly shoved in their face with bright, flashing lights. Being visible was being relevant, and if there was one thing “Barbie Summers” was good at in the ring, it was getting people talking - albeit not always in the best ways. Barbie kissed the tip of Drayden’s nose and smiled warmly “Because we ain’t going anywhere, right?”
Of course they weren’t going anywhere, Drayden wanted nothing more than to go out there each and every night and show the fans who the best in the world really was. But, he probably wouldn’t be able to do that; he’d already cut his workload down to about half, and would probably cut it back more after this, but who knew? At least this girl was his. She had a… way to go about cheering him up that was almost always successful. “No. I’m gonna come back better than ever.” Hopefully to a huge crowd reaction. “I’m sure that Roddy has a plan to keep me on people’s mind. He hasn’t replaced me quite yet, so I’m not going anywhere anytime soon. That’ll come, but not now. I got a lot left in the tank.”
They were an AWE power couple - some would even argue that they were the current monarchy of professional wrestling: a true king, and his queen. Barbie snuggled close against against the reigning champion. “Oh yeah?” she said before her lips curled into a minxy grin. “How much have got left in your,” a dainty hand trailed down his chest and settled to stroke and then grip her man with unmistakable intent, “...tank?” She bit her lower lip and compressed a giggle through her nose.
At least everything still worked properly. It could be worse; he could be out of action, and out of action. But, he was just down one leg; he still had two. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” He said lightly, winking at his queen. At least this would do a little to lighten his mood, maybe put a smile on his face before he walked out to face the music. Making a bit of a face, Drayden added, “you’re gonna have to do all the work. I can barely walk.”
“It’ll be my pleasure.” The blonde purred against his neck, peppering the skin with nibbly kisses. Things would go more smoothly with her taking the lead, Tay gets so spun in a tizzy when she messes up her hair or makeup before going out in front of the crowd. She would make sure that she didn’t do that again, at least not today. Her crystalline blue eyes glanced at the clock on the dressing room wall - they had about ten minutes before anyone came a-knocking on the door. Plenty of time.
“You can do this, and you will do it. And I’ll be right there at the end of that walkway when it’s all over.” Barbie said comfortingly, her voice was still a little raspy and her Louisiana accent was thick. Her words always took on a more loose, southern lilt when she was speaking casually. Of course, she would walk her boyfriend out to the ring and then wait backstage for him while he did what he had to do. “We should get you dressed--” she said without even looking at the clock for confirmation. As if on cue, there was a knock at the dressing room door. Barbie went rigid and scrambled up from her knees quickly, snickering like a caught schoolgirl. “Just a minute~” she called out toward the door before helping Drayden get decent again.
Sure, he was in a better mood now, but he wasn’t ready to do this. Drayden stood in the gorilla position, staring at the curtain… the crowd was ravenous to see the star, who had promised he would be opening the show with a huge announcement relating to his match from the weekend. Were he and Caiden going to have a rematch tonight? Something bigger than that? Nobody but Drayden knew, and that was where the hype came from!
Drayden looked at one of the monitors nearby, displaying the camera as it panned over the crowd, as energetic as always. The show’s themesong blared over the speakers, and the camera panned to the commentary desk, where Wade Palmer was bouncing his head to the heavy bass riff as it faded away, and the crowd in attendance were left to their devices, screaming and cheering as Wade spoke into the headset to crowd back home.
“Ladies and gentlemen, children of all ages…. welcome to AWE Shock n’ Awe, the longest running weekly episodic television show in history. We are coming at you live from Chicago, Illinois, surrounded by thousands of the most passionate wrestling fans in the world, who are just as amped as you to hear what Drayden has to say after his legendary title defense against Caiden Winters at Judgement Day, a match which will be looked on in the years that follow as a classic one, ending when Drayden broke out a move that hasn’t seen the light of day since 2007, when Drayden used it to retire the legendary Blaze Pierson: a burning hammer.” Wade paused for a moment and smiled into the camera, winking his left eye at it. “Of course, I can confidently say that not a single one of you are more excited to hear what he has to say than me.”
Drayden’s music hit and the crowd naturally went nuts. Not only was this the MAN, this was their hometown hero. It was deafening and it didn’t die down, even as the music played and Drayden wasn’t there. He couldn’t bring himself to walk out quite yet, he was savoring the sweet, sweet crowd’s cheers one last time before it all went to shit.
Finally, he pushed his way past the curtain… and headed down to the ring, with a crutch underneath his left side, where his leg was injured. Drayden was limping, with the championship belt strapped around his waist. Man, this sucked. The crowd was just staring at him, the cheering ceased for a moment, before they all realized what was about to happen.
‘PLEASE DON’T GO’
‘PLEASE DON’T GO’
Believe me, I don’t want to go.
Drayden grumbled in his thoughts as he climbed up the stair and into the ring, hobbling over to the side of it and reaching out for a folding chair, which was handed to him. Drayden put the chair down in the center of the ring, then went back and reached out for a microphone. Then he sat down in the chair and let himself enjoy the atmosphere just a while longer.
‘PLEASE DON’T GO’
‘PLEASE DON’T GO’
Drayden finally pulled the microphone up to his lips. “Trust me, I don’t want to go anywhere, but all good things must come to an end. Unfortunately, it’s time for me to take a step back and get some rest. I was informed on Sunday, after my match with Caiden Winters, that I sustained a few… detrimental injuries, and that it was a miracle that my body lasted this long before giving out on me. I’m having surgery tomorrow, and then I’ll be out for… almost a year, they said.” Drayden paused for a second, looking down at the title belt that was now sitting in his lap: his legacy. As he said that he had to be gone, for that long, the crowd couldn’t help themselves: they booed.
“I know believe me, I know. Being gone that long is a joke. But I’ve been doing too much, too fast. I need to slow down and get some rest, unfortunately, or I can never wrestle again.” Drayden paused again, and the crowd cheered, before another… off the wall chant started.
’GET SOME REST’
‘GET SOME REST’
“Now you guys sound like my girlfriend.” Drayden said, and if the place had been deafening with cheers before, the same effect was happening now, though instead of cheers, it was loud and impassioned booing, drowning out almost anyone in the arena’s ability to think. If they loved Drayden, they hated Drayden’s slutty girlfriend who DIDN’T DESERVE IT even more. Barbie was a damn good heel. Drayden cracked a crooked smile, before speaking into the microphone. ”I should have expected that. Now, before I finish up here, I want to make sure that you guys know this isn’t good bye, this is just see you later.”
Drayden looked down at the title in his lap and rapped on it with his knuckles, “time to address this. I don’t know how many fans here in attendance, and how many at home know this but there’s a contractual obligation in all AWE contracts to defend a championship once every thirty days. Due to my injury, I won’t be able to do that. So… As of right now, I’m relinquishing the AWE World Championship.” He said, taking it off of his lap and slowly setting it down on the ground, “but I want whoever holds this next to know that you’re just keeping it warm for me. I’ll be back. And I’ll get my title back.”
’FUCK ‘EM UP, DRAYDEN, FUCK ‘EM UP’
‘FUCK ‘EM UP, DRAYDEN, FUCK ‘EM UP’
Meanwhile, backstage, the head writer of the AWE, one Kevin Harrison, was putting the final touches on the storyboard for the night, which showed the plan so far, barring any immediate changes from Roddy Quinn himself:
Segment 1: Drayden relinquishes title
Commercial break; commentators question what will happen with the title as we come back
Segment 2: Roddy Quinn makes his way to the ring and declares that there will be a championship tournament for the AWE title, starting tonight
Segment 3: Barbie cuts a promo.
Commercial Break, as we come back commentators announce that Barbie will be joining them at the desk for the upcoming tag match
Match 1: Tsunami and Rosado vs Sydney Ellis and Morgana (Tsunami and Rosado over after Morgana abandons Sydney to start something with Barbie, after Sydney loses the 2v1, she attacks Morgana from behind at the desk)
Segment 4: Backstage interview with Razorblade before his match with Joy Ryder
Commercial Break
Match 2: Chaos Clayton vs Razorblade (Clayton goes over)
Segment 5: Backstage interview with Chaos Clayton with Joy Ryder
Commercial Break
Main Event: Caiden Winters vs Zachary Wake (Zachary over via some form of cheating)
And beneath the storyboard, a piece of paper is pinned with a thumb tack, detailing the upcoming tournament’s brackets, along with a note scrawled in Kevin’s unmistakeable handwriting: ‘If there is any confusion with the segment list, see me in my office. Thanks!’ | Daniel “DC” “Don’t Call Me Danny” “Danny” “Danny Church” Church
6’ - 184 lbs | 12
|Birth Name |
» Daniel Church
|Hails From |
» Sacramento, California
» October 9th, 1985 (31)
|Job at AWE |
» He does not work at AWE. However, he is often at their events and is friends with more than a few wrestlers and backstage employees. He is a wrestling journalist and posts stories as they come and go, and reviews the shows and matches. He reacts accordingly based on how he feels the company is performing, and has no qualms calling out a wrestler or wrestlers for having a shit match, cutting a shit promo, or calling out the powers that be for making their fucking look like goddamn geeks.
|Skills |
» Smooth talking
» Tech savvy
» Dadskills
» Radio host-esque silky smooth voice
» Good at ranting
|Reason for being here |
» When he was younger, in 2001, Daniel Church had a brilliant idea in his school computers class: he’d build a fucking website. Now, the first thing you had to do when building a website, was pick something you were passionate about… at the time, Danny Church was only really passionate about one thing: PROFESSIONAL WRESTLING. Even at the young age of fifteen, DC had a brilliant mind for coding and built a website that was grand, even for the times. It gained a following, and the forums on it exploded in popularity as the tape traders and more hardcore fans finally found a place to talk and get their opinions out there.
The Smark Remark, the website is known as, and it’s only grown since its original inception in mid-2001. Danny made friends with the right people, and after high school, he passed the day-to-day management of the website over to a team of administrators and moderators. The man himself began a focus on the content creation for the website. He hosted podcasts with wrestlers from all over the world, and he began to rate matches.
Every show he saw, either live or on a tape he bought, he rated the match. Over time, his ratings and opinions got a little controversial, with people arguing about whether he was right or wrong, but he there was one thing they agreed on: he was consistent. He also wrote reports on rumors that he heard, and posted opinions and frequently participated in conversations on the message boards.
Four years after graduating, when Danny was 22, his then girlfriend, Clarissa Whitaker, gave birth to his two beautiful children. Twins, a boy and a girl. Robert and Cynthia, Bobby and Cyn. His babies and his life — other than work. They are turning ten in January of next year, and attend an online school to make it easier on Daniel to travel around for his job. They haven’t seen their mother since they were two; as it turns out, their mother was… crazy, to say the least. After Daniel discovered her drug habits and realized she was a poison in his life, he cut her out and got full custody of his children.
Since then, the single dad life has been the life for him. Working and taking care of two rascals isn’t exactly the easiest lot in life, but… he makes it work. When he was called up by Walter Durrel, who proposed combining their two mediums a few years ago, DC jumped on the opportunity. Together now, they put out podcasts reviewing AWE mostly, as that’s Walter’s preferred company. In return, Danny Church offers the Smark Remark’s website as a new home for the Wrestling Journal. They make a surprisingly good team so far.
|Looks & Style |
» Decked out from head to toe in wrestling gear, Danny doesn’t give a FUCK about how people think of him in public. He’s a hardworking single father, get bent. He’ll sometimes match or contradict his children when they go to the shows — both of his kids are huge fans too.
|Personality Traits |
» Danny is brutal and quick to be critical. He doesn’t listen to the reasons for things sucking and just accepts that they suck. If a wrestler isn’t working at their full capacity because of injuries? Whatever, stop fucking working. Utilize your roster, people.
He’s fun to talk to, and is good at telling stories and ranting and making other people who agree with him happy. He often gets into long winded debates on his podcast with Walter, but as a person Danny honestly looks forward to it every night.
Deep down, he’s just a mark, dude. He loves wrestling, everything about it from the ground up is amazing, and he can’t get enough. The fact that he built something great out of his love for wrestling amazes him to this day, and the Smark Remark is his baby. He enjoys posting on the message boards to this day, and recording the weekly podcasts is something he lovingly looks forward to every day.
It’s his second baby, the thing he loves most right behind his children.
|Favorite wrestler |
» Caiden goddamn fucking Winters, fuck you Roddy for burying the best wrestler to ever grace this goddamn planet. And Retribution. Excited for him to come, which I'M SURE HE'LL DO EVENTUALLY ONCE RODERICK QUINN PULLS HIS HEAD OUT OF HIS FUCKING ASS. Gethin's a personal favorite too, at least he gets used properly by those idiots.
And fuck you Drayden, I bet you encouraged that shit, didn’t you? Gotta GO OVER EVERYONE. Asshole. And of course, my fucking kid loves you so I have all that stupid merchandise in my fucking HOUSE.
Trinity’s cool too.
And Morgana.
What? I can’t hate the kids’s favorites, I’d be an asshole.
Except for Drayden. Fuck you. And fuck your stupid fat head wall stickers, now you’re stuck to the goddamn wall behind my FUCKING COUCH.
|Rep at AWE |
» Honestly, most people at the AWE don’t really like him. Daniel is loud, brash, and he doesn’t care about calling them out if they do something stupid. If you botch one goddamn move you better believe DC will roast the fuck out of you. You lose a match looking like a geek and hate it? Too goddamn bad, Danny Church knows full well you’re a NERD and you’ll never live it down.
But, he’s undeniably good at the job, and they actually take his ratings seriously. The few wrestlers that Danny fanboys about are quite fond of him, and he does a good podcast that wrestlers try to take advantage of. It can just be hard to deal with someone that’s going to call out every little mistake you make, even when it’s more blamed on the booking team than yourself.
He also has a tendency to post rumors about who’s going to win or lose a match, and rarely checks the validity of his source. Unlike his partner, Walter, Daniel Church is not a journalist. He’s angry millennial who thinks Roderick Quinn is ruining his goddamn favorite thing by blowing Drayden and giving him everything he asks for.
This doesn’t stop every member of the locker room from obsessively checking his reviews, though. Even Roddy does it.
|Other |
» 16a064
» Jensen Ackles. |
49,029 | 1,324 | 2 | 2,789 | 249 | Sexton P.S. Love
It was a miracle that Sexton Love made it to the arena.
It wasn't so much the hangover that was the problem, it was the pills he took in the morning to deal with it. Despite his veteran status, he seemed to have "over-medicated," which was plainly evident by the way in which he parked his car. It was crooked, but at least he had only knocked over one sign. It could've been a lot worse, he could've knocked over two.
The truth was that Sexton had no business driving to the building at all, and he had no intention to. On the road, he rarely rented his own vehicle or drove himself anywhere, instead relying on a netowrk of "dedicated" ring rats across the country. How was he supposed to know that this particular woman in Chicago just had her car repossessed?
At least he didn't have to pay for a hotel.
Sexton staggered out of his rental car, and promptly puked his guts out all over the pavement. He caught the eye of a couple of fans still making their way into the arena, hoping they wouldn't choose this exact moment to ask for an autograph.
They didn't.
Sexton entered the building and made his way to the backstage area. He was relieved when he saw that he hadn't been booked for TV that week. The last thing he needed was to repeat what had just happened in the parking lot out in the middle of the ring on national television. Never again.
After grabbing a quick bite to eat at catering and bullshitting with some of the boys, Sexton received word that he had been scheduled to do a couple of spot promos for the upcoming loop of house shows. In addition to Shock N Awe, American Wrestling Entertainment's weekly television show, the company also ran numerous live events (or "house shows") throughout the week, often in smaller towns. Wrestlers typically worked 300 plus days a year, and not all of them were as good at coping with their workload as Sexton Love.
Spot promos were usually pretty short, and aired on local radion and TV stations in order to advertise upcoming AWE live events in the area. They were an important part of the wrestling business. Luckily, the bathroom was right across the hall from where the promos were being shot, so Sexton had a chance to clean himself up a bit before getting to work.
After hastily splashing some cold water on his face, Sexton looked up at himself in the bathroom mirror. His beard and mullet were disheveled, and his eyes were blood shot. He wet his hair a bit to get things under control, and then reached into his fanny pack and pulled out a bottle of eye drops. He soon discovered that the bottle was completely empty. It had been a rough month.
Hopefully they were mainly radio spots.
Sexton crossed the hall and entered the production room where a young writer handed him a piece of paper with some verbiage on it. He promptly crumpled it up and threw it in the garbage. That wasn't how he did business.
"It's gotta come from the heart daddeh," said Sexton as the producer counted him down, trying to stifle a laugh.
"...and ACTION!"
"You know darlin', Sexton P.S. Love has been all around the world. I've been to Tokyo and Idaho, Birmingham and Amsterdam, Pennsylvania and Transylavnia. I've sold out the Garden, the Cow Palace, the Spectrum in Philly. Step in the ring with me, I'll knock you silly. From east to west, I'm the best, daddeh. I am the real deal, man of steel, SEX APPEAL!
I've been ALLLLL around the world, and I have never, EVER, seen a bigger dump than St. Paul, Minnesota...
...than Grand Rapids, Michigan...
...than Green Bay, Wisconsin...
...than Des Moines, Iowa..."
That last one was actually true.
"And when I come through town this Saturday night darlin' all my SEX ADDICTS will see why I am the Sexiest There Is, Sexiest There Was, and Sexiest There Ever will be! I am the SEXECELLENCE OF SEXECUTION, the absolute BEST in the business today, and the NEXT World's Heavyweight Champion! SEX SELLS darlin', and this Saturday night you'll find out why..."
"...aaaaand CUT," came the producer's voice, "Nice work Sexton."
"That's how you talk 'em into the building daddeh," said Sexton, "It doesn't get any better than that."
Without looking back, he walked straight out of the room...and puked his guts out again. | Sexton P.S. LoveThe Sexcellence of Sexecution
6'4 - 269 lbs. | 10 years experience
|Hails From |
» Venice Beach, California
» July 29th 1988 (29)
|Fighting Style |
» Despite the flashy tights and flashy women, the Lovely One's in-ring style is anything but flashy. A true student of the game, Sexton Love has developed into a highly respected ring general, working an old school heel style. During a match, Sexton spends as much time focused on the women at ringside as he does on his opponent, and will frequently bail out of the ring to flex and pose in front of his female fans.
|Signature Moves |
» Sex Plex (Rolling German Suplex w/bridge)
» Piledriver
» Impale-Her DDT
» Massive Package (small package)
|Finisher |
» Sexecutor (Torture Rack Neckbreaker)
» Love Lock (Muta Lock)
|Theme |
»
|Gimmick |
» The Sexiest There Is, Sexiest There Was, and Sexiest There Ever Will Be...
Sexton P.S. (Purely Sex) Love is a sleazy, arrogant, womanizing heel with a seemingly endless stream of catchphrases. Sex sells, and nobody sells it better than Sexton Love. His main influences are Superstar Billy Graham, Macho Man Randy Savage, The Universal Hearthrob Austin Idol, and of course, Ravishing Rick Rude. Sexton Love is here to bring sexy BACK to American Wrestling Entertainment darlin', and become the new AWE World's Heavyweight Champion. He wants the title on his waist and the camera on his face daddeh, because whether you like it or not...SEX...SELLS!
|Face or Heel |
» HEEL
|Backstage Rep |
» Ask anyone in the wrestling business about Sexton Love, and they'll tell you the same thing: he lives his gimmick. His fans may be known as the "Sex Addicts," but in real life he is the one with the addiction. He goes out every night, in every town, and has established a network of devoted ring rats from coast to coast. "I'm the KING OF THE ROAD daddeh." His most important possession is his fanny pack, containing a Skittles-like cocktail of pain killers, Viagara, and natural male enhancement.
|Other |
» Face Claim: Michael P.S. Hayes |
49,030 | 1,324 | 3 | 2,180 | 2,019 | Oscar had been watching Drayden's promo in the monitor backstage. He had been at the site the whole day, and this was the case every day barring weekends, holidays or injuries. His routine was always similar; Arrives at the building at 9:30. Gym until lunch. Then a few hours in the Performance Center. After that, he'd help the crew out with the setup and preparation if he didn't have a match on, and if he did have one on, then he'd be practicing with his opponent the match plan they'd written together the night before. Then, after dinner, he either went out and wrestled, or stayed here and watched on the monitors. Then he'd help the crew after the show ended before finally heading home between 11 and 12.
But today was different. Will had just finished giving his speech about having to relinquish the belt due to an injury. Oscar decided it'd be a good idea to go and check up on his longtime friend and colleague. Their high profile 2006 title feud, when both men hadn't been wrestling for that many years, had help them both to grow incredibly as performers, and ever since, they have been firm friends, and no matter how their position on the card or how their characters had been treated, any time Oscar got back in the ring with Drayden on TV, it was a special match to Oscar.
In the hallway just outside the screening room, Sexton was emerging from the recording room two doors down, and promptly threw up. It was only his long service and status as a veteran that stopped Oscar from losing his shit right there on the spot. No matter what they do, veterans have earned some degree of respect. Even so, Oscar was undoubtedly angry disgusted, and roughly helped Sexton up by the shoulder of his shirt.
"Jesus fucking christ, man!" He spat. "Get a drink of water, clean yourself up and go sit down!"
As Oscar walked away, avoiding the puddle of puke on the floor, he parted with the words "Fucking embarrassment!"
Oscar passed the notice board on the way to the locker room. He took a quick glance at the the plans. He knew beforehand that he wouldn't be performing, but hadn't seen the tournament brackets yet. He took a quick look, and then whistled. Semi-finals! Tht wasn't bad going! Plus he was being put over Savaka. Does this mean they have plans to put him in an IC title feud. That was news to him, though very good news! Oscar had been stuck in the lower midcard for months, which did have its perks, like being able to unwind and watch the rest of the show after getting changed, but it also meant a smaller check. Gethin Rhys was the winner of the tournament it seemed. Odd choice, though Oscar could see the logic to it.
Oscar eventually reached the locker room and found Drayden. "Hey, Will," he started, casually. "You feeling okay? I was going to get something to eat and then go watch Barbie's promo in the screening room if you wanted to come with me. Your girl cuts one hell of a good heel promo. Is she like that when you argue?" | is no monster under your bed, because I'm right here.
6”8 – 130kg| Eight Years Of Experience
|Birth Name |
»Andrew Gosforth
|Hails From |
»Paisley, Scotland
»April 7th, 1986 (31)
|Fighting Style |
» Hector is a large man, and as such has a large arsenal of power moves, but what sets him apart from other powerhouses is his in-ring psychology, mindgames and theatrics. In his gimmick’s newest incarnation, will sometimes hurt himself just to unnerve his opponent, as well as relish in the pain of his opponent instead of fighting to win quickly. A Hector match can be an uncomfortable watch, and sometimes won’t even feel PG even though it breaks no rules.
|Signature Moves |
» Daddy’s Awake (Spear/Double Leg Takedown hybrid with theatrics)
» Nightmare Drop
» Chokeslam Backbreaker
» Lifting Spinebuster
|Finisher |
» Straightjacket Neckbreaker
» Dreamcatcher
|Theme |
» Old Theme:
» New Theme:
|Backstage Rep |
»’Hector’ had enjoyed success as a big guy with the gimmick of an insane slasher villain, though this translated to cheesy effects, mind games and blackout attacks every other week. He was never a world champion though he did briefly hold the IC belt, and had an upper-card feud with Drayden during one of the rare instances when he wasn’t champion or challenging for the championship. This all came to an end over a year ago when Andrew had to go through a messy divorce, and took time off to return to Scotland and deal with that. He was written off TV by being set of fire from one of the chemicals of Dr. Sinister off the back of a feud with The creation, and then he was gone.
Several months ago, he came back for training, and to people’s surprise, it’s as if he was never gone. She’s the same old chatty, friendly big scot who enjoys a drink, and he had very little ring rust. He fell back into place in the AWE machine and is now ready to return to the ring, though his debut is still being held off until after the tournament. Personally, Andrew isn’t sure his character still fits in with an industry that’s gearing towards a more realistic, MMA style populated by small, fast guys with realistic names and characters, or maybe that just means he’s needed more than ever.
|Gimmick |
» Hector’s new gimmick is far more genuinely scary and intense than his old one. He is now a deranged psychopath, and even though there are still blackout attacks and lighting effects, Hector is framed less of a supernatural monster than he was in his previous run and far more of an ordinary albeit twisted and deranged human, and therefore all the more unsettling for it, as he seems real now. He will wear creepy masks, give nonsensical promos that make the interviewer uncomfortable, stalk his feuding opponents backstage in skits and during their promos, ect. His mindgames are a thing of beauty now. Rather than before, where every opponent would get the same thing (dolls, abandoned asylums, little girls), now each feud’s mindgames are tailored towards the fears and insecurities of his opponents and a big deal will be made of him getting inside their heads.
|Face or Heel |
» Indiscriminate Heel
|Other |
» Face Claim – Rory McCann |
49,031 | 1,324 | 4 | 2,573 | 1,662 | Gethin had been at TV for a few hours. “The Welsh Dragon” had always been an early riser, ever since he was a boy back in Cardiff. It helped that he didn’t really sleep much, it meant that he could stay awake all night and watch AWE live. It was a dream come true for him the day he was signed. He had spent years working the independent scene in the UK before finally getting a break in the Japanese circuit. It was there where he truly developed into the performer he was today. He found himself seduced by strong style and soon adopted it as his own way of performing. In the dojo’s of All Japan Battle Wrestling, alongside the toughest men on the planet, he created his Brutal Artist character. Pure bred Professional Violence was his creed, it was his code, it was who he was...or at least on camera that was the case.
His days since joining the AWE had become pretty routine by this point. He would wake up early in whatever town they were in, find the nearest gym, workout like a motherfucker and then head to TV. One thing that helped Gethin stand out was his body, he was obsessed with staying in perfect shape and it showed. In spite of this, he was not a body guy, he was a workhorse; Gethin Rhys was someone who worshiped the actual craft of professional wrestling, the art of the match. His style was stiff, hard hitting and realistic but that’s what it was supposed to be. He had to convince the fans that he was legitimately beating the hell out of his opponent. If he couldn’t’ fool them, what was the point of it all? Wrestling was supposed to be a sport after all.
Having arrived early enough the see the card for the evening, Gethin saw that he was not booked that night. That was fine, he understood that he didn’t need to wrestle every night despite that being his wish. So instead of working, he could help some of the younger guys polish up on their skills. Whispers in the locker room soon became hard fact as Drayden headed to ring to give up his belt. Gethin watched on the monitors during the emotional moment. He and Drayden had yet to cross paths in the ring, so he hoped the face of the company would heal as fast as he could so as to make this dream match a reality. As he stood watching the show, the Welshman heard someone of the younger talent talking about the tournament brackets that had just been put up, Making his wa back to the locker room, Gethin’s dark eyes widened as he saw that he was not only in the tournament but he was also booked to win the world championship. Of all the talent he could’ve gone with, Roddy was going to go with him?
”Holy shit”
”I’m not booked again? God damn”
The redhead sighed in frustration. Suzy had been doing everything she could on the house and developmental shows to get noticed. She had thought that her Diana Valentine character was getting over but apparently not. Passing by Gethin, she made her way to the women’s locker room and sat down. She had spent the better part of nine months working her way from announcer to talent and no one seemed to take any kind of notice expect the fans. She honestly thought their opinion mattered in making talent but apparently not. She wanted to sell her brand and sell the superstars she could manage. Grabbing a notepad from her bag, Suzy furiously scribbled down her thoughts and feelings. Her notepad was extremely important, it was where the Diana Valentine character was made and it was where her ideas were kept.
”I am gonna do this. Just let them try and stop me” | Daniel “DC” “Don’t Call Me Danny” “Danny” “Danny Church” Church
6’ - 184 lbs | 12
|Birth Name |
» Daniel Church
|Hails From |
» Sacramento, California
» October 9th, 1985 (31)
|Job at AWE |
» He does not work at AWE. However, he is often at their events and is friends with more than a few wrestlers and backstage employees. He is a wrestling journalist and posts stories as they come and go, and reviews the shows and matches. He reacts accordingly based on how he feels the company is performing, and has no qualms calling out a wrestler or wrestlers for having a shit match, cutting a shit promo, or calling out the powers that be for making their fucking look like goddamn geeks.
|Skills |
» Smooth talking
» Tech savvy
» Dadskills
» Radio host-esque silky smooth voice
» Good at ranting
|Reason for being here |
» When he was younger, in 2001, Daniel Church had a brilliant idea in his school computers class: he’d build a fucking website. Now, the first thing you had to do when building a website, was pick something you were passionate about… at the time, Danny Church was only really passionate about one thing: PROFESSIONAL WRESTLING. Even at the young age of fifteen, DC had a brilliant mind for coding and built a website that was grand, even for the times. It gained a following, and the forums on it exploded in popularity as the tape traders and more hardcore fans finally found a place to talk and get their opinions out there.
The Smark Remark, the website is known as, and it’s only grown since its original inception in mid-2001. Danny made friends with the right people, and after high school, he passed the day-to-day management of the website over to a team of administrators and moderators. The man himself began a focus on the content creation for the website. He hosted podcasts with wrestlers from all over the world, and he began to rate matches.
Every show he saw, either live or on a tape he bought, he rated the match. Over time, his ratings and opinions got a little controversial, with people arguing about whether he was right or wrong, but he there was one thing they agreed on: he was consistent. He also wrote reports on rumors that he heard, and posted opinions and frequently participated in conversations on the message boards.
Four years after graduating, when Danny was 22, his then girlfriend, Clarissa Whitaker, gave birth to his two beautiful children. Twins, a boy and a girl. Robert and Cynthia, Bobby and Cyn. His babies and his life — other than work. They are turning ten in January of next year, and attend an online school to make it easier on Daniel to travel around for his job. They haven’t seen their mother since they were two; as it turns out, their mother was… crazy, to say the least. After Daniel discovered her drug habits and realized she was a poison in his life, he cut her out and got full custody of his children.
Since then, the single dad life has been the life for him. Working and taking care of two rascals isn’t exactly the easiest lot in life, but… he makes it work. When he was called up by Walter Durrel, who proposed combining their two mediums a few years ago, DC jumped on the opportunity. Together now, they put out podcasts reviewing AWE mostly, as that’s Walter’s preferred company. In return, Danny Church offers the Smark Remark’s website as a new home for the Wrestling Journal. They make a surprisingly good team so far.
|Looks & Style |
» Decked out from head to toe in wrestling gear, Danny doesn’t give a FUCK about how people think of him in public. He’s a hardworking single father, get bent. He’ll sometimes match or contradict his children when they go to the shows — both of his kids are huge fans too.
|Personality Traits |
» Danny is brutal and quick to be critical. He doesn’t listen to the reasons for things sucking and just accepts that they suck. If a wrestler isn’t working at their full capacity because of injuries? Whatever, stop fucking working. Utilize your roster, people.
He’s fun to talk to, and is good at telling stories and ranting and making other people who agree with him happy. He often gets into long winded debates on his podcast with Walter, but as a person Danny honestly looks forward to it every night.
Deep down, he’s just a mark, dude. He loves wrestling, everything about it from the ground up is amazing, and he can’t get enough. The fact that he built something great out of his love for wrestling amazes him to this day, and the Smark Remark is his baby. He enjoys posting on the message boards to this day, and recording the weekly podcasts is something he lovingly looks forward to every day.
It’s his second baby, the thing he loves most right behind his children.
|Favorite wrestler |
» Caiden goddamn fucking Winters, fuck you Roddy for burying the best wrestler to ever grace this goddamn planet. And Retribution. Excited for him to come, which I'M SURE HE'LL DO EVENTUALLY ONCE RODERICK QUINN PULLS HIS HEAD OUT OF HIS FUCKING ASS. Gethin's a personal favorite too, at least he gets used properly by those idiots.
And fuck you Drayden, I bet you encouraged that shit, didn’t you? Gotta GO OVER EVERYONE. Asshole. And of course, my fucking kid loves you so I have all that stupid merchandise in my fucking HOUSE.
Trinity’s cool too.
And Morgana.
What? I can’t hate the kids’s favorites, I’d be an asshole.
Except for Drayden. Fuck you. And fuck your stupid fat head wall stickers, now you’re stuck to the goddamn wall behind my FUCKING COUCH.
|Rep at AWE |
» Honestly, most people at the AWE don’t really like him. Daniel is loud, brash, and he doesn’t care about calling them out if they do something stupid. If you botch one goddamn move you better believe DC will roast the fuck out of you. You lose a match looking like a geek and hate it? Too goddamn bad, Danny Church knows full well you’re a NERD and you’ll never live it down.
But, he’s undeniably good at the job, and they actually take his ratings seriously. The few wrestlers that Danny fanboys about are quite fond of him, and he does a good podcast that wrestlers try to take advantage of. It can just be hard to deal with someone that’s going to call out every little mistake you make, even when it’s more blamed on the booking team than yourself.
He also has a tendency to post rumors about who’s going to win or lose a match, and rarely checks the validity of his source. Unlike his partner, Walter, Daniel Church is not a journalist. He’s angry millennial who thinks Roderick Quinn is ruining his goddamn favorite thing by blowing Drayden and giving him everything he asks for.
This doesn’t stop every member of the locker room from obsessively checking his reviews, though. Even Roddy does it.
|Other |
» 16a064
» Jensen Ackles. |
49,032 | 1,324 | 5 | 92 | 2,184 | Chaos Clayton
VS
Razorblade
vs
Shock n' Awe Show
Match 2
The next match was about to begin.
The lights dimmed in the arena until it was pitch black, the only lights being those from the audience's phones and camera, pointed to the stage entrance. They eagerly awaited the follow up to the tumultuous Women's tag team match. All of a sudden, the beginning guitar riff blared throughout the arena. The signature entrance music of the biggest rebel in AWE history. Red searchlights flooded the arena, soon focusing on the center of the stage, showing a masked figure clad in red and black with his arms held high, facing downwards and hands balled into the devil horns.
As the music reached its first drop, Chaos Clayton threw his arms downwards, synchronising with the pyrotechnics that erupted in a wave either side of him as he finally turned his head upwards onto the crowd. No one could tell, but Duncan was smiling behind his snood. His wide, crazy looking eyes scanned the crowd as he began to stride down the ramp. The crowd exploded with cheers, all hungry for the upcoming havoc that was about to occur. These were the reactions that Duncan lived for. As he reached the end of the ramp, Clayton looked at the crowd again, head turning from left to right before directly facing the camera.
TEAR THIS UP! TEAR THIS UP! TEAR THIS UP! TEAR THIS UP!
His own catchphrase was bombarding Clayton from the crowd as the Arbiter of Anarchy ran the tip of his thumb across his neck, before whipping around and jumping up on the canvas, gripping onto the ropes. He stepped through, walking a lap of the ring before pacing back and forth in the middle and finally crouching down, looking at the stage, awaiting his opponent. The camera zoomed in, and his eyes was clearly transfixed on the entrance. Clayton extended his arm and fanned his fingers backwards and forwards as his music died down, saying "Bring it!" to the man who was about to walk through.
“All in or nothing, with war and mayhem running through his blood, Chaos Clayton, the guy who just doesn’t give a damn, is about to destroy the ring. Are you NOT ENTERTAINED?!“ Kane voiced into the mic with a wide grin plastered on his face.
The arena became a dimgray when the music for the resident Underdog began playing. Three red spotlights lit up the entrance following Alex as he walked to the center. Dropping to his knees and extending his arms outwards as he took in the cheers of the audience. Alex then stands up and begins running down the ramp high-fiving the fans as he runs down.
Alex runs all the way around to the announcers table. He hops on top takes a deep breath then howls along with the crowd. He was ready to give a good show to his Pack and they were excited to watch. From his position Alex stared right at his opponent and pointed right at him saying something that no one could hear from the added combo of music and fans cheering.
He hopped down then jumped onto the apron. He then propelled himself over the ropes in a flip running straight to the corner afterwards raising his arm in the air with a thumbs up. Hopping off the corner he looked back to Clayton ready to put on the show.
“And it looks like his opponent is ready for the match as well. Will this be the match that propels Razorblade into the main event scene? He’s finally being given a chance, and we are going to get a chance to see it live, right here on Wednesday night Shock n Awe.” Wade Palmer, the beloved voice of the AWE spoke into the microphone as Alex jumped onto the turnbuckle.
The referee signalled to the two fighters, who nodded that they were ready. The bell was rung and the match was underway.
Chaos Clayton strafed right and Razorblade mirrored the movement to the left as they circled each other. Clayton leaned his head from side to side, creepily sizing his opponent up.
Razorblade made sure to keep his hands up ready for whatever Chaos was about to do.
“A chance? We’ll see about that, Wade. Razorblade is still a pup for all I care. A little wolf pup about to pounce on a lion. Who do you think wins?”
“We’ll see. I believe that Razorblade has got so much heart, so much passion for this business… it might just give him the upperhand here. Didn’t your mama ever tell you that it’s not about the size of the dog in the fight, but the size of the heart in the dog?”
Slowly they inched towards each other and grappled into a lock-up with neither giving an inch.
Clayton started pushing forward, using his legs to slowly press the Underdog towards the corner, while they tussled back and forth for control. Soon enough, Chaos pressed his weight against Razor on the corner, trying to gain some leverage. The struggle lasted a few moments before the Anarchist could free his right arm and deliver a series of elbow smashes into the shoulder of Razorblade. Only the five count from the referee and his intervention could make Clayton cease his relentless assault as the match official pushed him away from the corner to the centre of the ring.
“Look at that. Sometimes being as reckless and chaotic in the ring as Clayton can be isn’t necessarily a good thing. He damn near got himself disqualified, and if that happened… he can kiss the AWE World Title goodbye.”
“Uh-huh. It ain’t over yet. If anyone is kissing the AWE World Title goodbye, it’s that boy trying to be a man. The Underdog. Which would benefit us all, LET’S BE HONEST.”
Razorblade shook out his shoulder a little as he stepped away from the corner. He waited for the ref to step away from Clayton and paused to let Clayton make the first move.
Clayton cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders. He turned on his feet and ran towards the rope, twisting around and bouncing back into it, using his slingshot manoeuvre to propel himself towards Razorblade, shouting as he charges forward.
Razorblade quickly plants his left foot into the ground and just as Chaos gets close spins around launching his right foot in a spinning back kick towards Chaos' head. The impact causes Chaos to fall back hard, as he clutched his head to mimic being hurt. Quickly Razorblade takes this opportunity to set-up for a moonsault over the apron. He hops over while Chaos is still groggy and after a moment launches himself over the ropes toward Clayton.
“Look at that, see? Razorblade clearly has it in him to be a major player in the AWE, but does he have what it takes to be the champion and fill the huge gap left by Drayden? Let’s find out here tonight, live in Chicago.”
Chaos Clayton grunts out in pain as he gets squashed by the moonsault, still reeling from the devastating counter kick that stopped his attempted clothesline.
Razorblade stands up from the successful moonsault and starts to lift Clayton up. Once he is on his knees Razorblade runs to the ropes bouncing off of them going for a shining wizard.
Clayton grabs Razorblades' lower leg as he set up for the Shining Wizard. He leans back onto the mat and twists round, throwing Razor downwards over him.
Razorblade can't do much to try and counter the move and ends up landing right on his back knocking the air out of him.
Chaos finally gets up and stands on his feet. He clasps his hands around Razor's head and lifts him up too before attempting to irish whip him into the corner. "Get ready!" the Anarchist called out. To the crowd, this was a taunt and a warning. For Razor, this was a heads up. Once Razorblade is leant against the turnbuckle and facing him, Clayton charges and yells again, bringing his knee up to collide into the stomach of the Underdog. Leaving his opponent there for a moment, Chaos Clayton turned away to the crowd, making his hands posed as claws and slowly tore apart the air, appealing to the roaring crowd.
TEAR HIM UP! TEAR HIM UP! TEAR HIM UP!
“Rip him to shreds and feed him to the dogs.”
“Will you STOP?”
However, Clayton was exposed. Despite knowing it was coming the knee still hurt. It took a second to recoil from it and while Clayton was appealing to the crowd Razorblade came up behind him. He grabbed the back of his neck and his pants. He threw him towards the ropes and was preparing to kick him.
Clayton sprang up onto the ropes, planting his feet onto the bouncy ropes before twisting back, attempting a disaster kick. His eyes went wide as he realised the heavy blow that was about to come his way.
Razorblade ducked under the kick and turned bounced off the ropes then jumped with his feet going straight towards Clayton's face. This time he connected and both landed on the ground. Razorblade then said loud enough for his opponent to hear and no one else, "Go ahead and roll out now." Razorblade moved slowly towards Clayton as if he was going for a pin.
“Look at the height off of that dropkick! It’s unbelievable how athletic this kid is. You can talk down to him all you want, but even you can’t deny it Kane. Kid’s got hops.”
“Bounce, bounce, goes the bunny, but he’s still kind of fluffy. Anyone who told him to be himself couldn’t have given him worse advice.”
Clayton writhed on the ground, groaning from the counter attack. He gave a very slight nod to his opponent as he waited for Razor to inch closer until he rolled away and out of the ring, landing on all fours, exclaiming in pain before collapsing onto the floor panting. He stumbled up to the barricade, catching his breath right in front of the front row crowd before shaking his head and holding onto the side of his head, before looking up at the ring, still looking a bit dazed.
Razorblade stood up visibly frustrated. When he saw Clayton leaning on the barricade he smiled. He stood straight up and belted out a howl which a lot of the fans joined in on. He ran to the ropes opposite of the side Clayton was outside the ring at. Running towards the side Clayton was at Razorblade planted his hands on the ground flipped once then once on his feet again flipped over the ropes into a senton aimed at Clayton.
Both men hit the ground with staged force. Only thing that saved Razorblade from damage was the cushion that was Clayton's body. Razorblade rolled to the barricade and smiled looking at his handiwork. He stood up and looked at the crowd who were chanting.
RAZOR-BLADE! RAZOR-BLADE! RAZOR-BLADE!
“Listen to this capacity crowd support their fan favorite! It’s clear who they want to win, and I don’t blame them.”
“Keep talking, Wade. I always yawn when I’m interested.”
Razorblade bent down to pick up Clayton. When he lifted him up Razorblade hit him with a european uppercut. From there he pushed Clayton into the ring and pulled himself to the apron, stopping the ref's countout. He ran to the turnbuckle and hopped on top.
Razorblade sat on the turnbuckle waiting for the signal from Clayton that he was ready. Clayton slowly pulled himself up and stumbled into Razor's path. He looked up and twisted his right foot a few degrees, the signal for Razorblade to jump. Instantly Razorblade jumped off the turnbuckle towards Clayton. Landing on the shoulders of the man, Razorblade leaned back going for a hurricanrana.
Chaos Clayton clasped onto the belt of Razor's shorts, lifting him back up so he was upright. Clayton looked up, nodding slowly while his eyes stared wide, as if they were boring into Razor's mind. When he was lifted back up there was obvious shock on Razorblade's face he went to strike Clayton, but he was too late. Chaos Clayton immediately dropped to his knee, and simultaneously used the power of gravity to slam Razorblade down onto the mat, landing with a sickening thud. Delivering the powerbomb, Clayton leant back and threw his arms out wide, roaring out before scurrying on top and lifting up Razorblade's leg for the pin.
The referee slid over, slapping the apron with each count as well as being echoed by the crowd.
“One, two, three! That’s it, ring the bell!”
“BOOOOOOOYAHHHHHH! What did I say? The pup doesn’t got what it takes! IN YOUR FACE.”
“He tried his damndest, but he just couldn’t get the job done… That’s alright, Razorblade. Be proud of the show you put on, and keep swinging.”
Clayton stood up, and stared down at the defeated Underdog. He threateningly ran his thumb across his neck before twisting and throwing his hands up as rocker symbols in victory. Theme music kicked in as the Anarchist flung over the rope and hopped down from the apron, walking up the ramp and to the backstage, not giving the ring a second look as he disappeared behind the curtains. Chaos Clayton's work was done.
Razorblade slowly rolled out of the ring as Clayton was walking up the ramp. He fell to his knee and after a moment slammed his hand down on the ring. He took his time walking up the ring as the beaten Underdog. Once he got out of sight of the audience and cameras he sighed. He hated playing the loser but at least he gave a good match.
Suddenly, Razor was hoisted up by his waist and spun around. Once he was let down, Razorblade turned to see who it was. Duncan had put his mask down and held his hand up. "Great fucking match, dude! They loved it!"
Alex high-fived the man saying, "Thanks. You did awesome too. That powerbomb was freakin' gold, dude. Here's hoping they don't completely forget about our match after the main event."
Duncan laughed. "Nah man, I'd hate to be on the receiving end of your Wizard for real. I'll catch you later, gotta see Joy." Duncan said, and with a wink, Duncan walked away to his after-match interview.
“And now we’ll head backstage, where the winner of this match will be doing an interview with Joy Ryder.” | no need to fear. The Underdog is here!
5'11" - 231 | 3
|Birth Name |
» Alex Hill
|Hails From |
» Chapel Hill
» September 13, 1995 (21)
|Fighting Style |
» Fast paced brawler/opportunist. Also sorta a daredevil high flyer. If he is in control then he doesn't stay still long. Quick kicks and fluid moves. Doing his best not to give his opponent any breathing room. Tends to save his harder hitting moves for when he's in a pickle or doesn't have control over the flow of the match. He refuses to tap out and will either get out of it somehow or pass out before even thinking about it.
|Signature Moves |
» Spear
» Spider Suplex(Without the chair)
» Sasuke Special
» Shining Wizard
|Finisher |
» Butterfly Suplex(Without the face stomp)
» Razor's Edge
|Theme |
» Unstoppable - The Score
|Gimmick |
» He is an underdog and opportunist. He prefers to be in multi-man matches or team ups which is where he thrives. He will help anyone who asks him. He tells the fans that he was just like them. A fan who wanted to be more. He will often say that if they try hard enough they can to. He stands up for the weak and aims for the top dogs. He has a chant that he often uses, "There's no need to fear. The Underdog is here."
His attire is very simplistic. He wears long shorts that go a little past his knees. The outer portion is white while the inside thigh portion is black. He wears basic kneepads and has his left ankle wraapped up tight due to a past small injury. He wears sneakers as well. On his upper body he wears a long sleeve shirt that has the body part black and the arms white. He wears gloves on his hands and no elbow pads. During his entrance he wears a black jacket.
He heavily appeals to the crowd. During his entrance he takes a lot of time running near them high fiving any that hold their hands out. Sometimes whenever he is on a roll in the match he'll pause to look at the crowd and try to hype them up. In matches he tries to play up the Underdog gimmick a lot often telling his opponents to make it look like he doesn't stand a chance and he also plays up that he won't stay down.
|Face or Heel |
» Face. He has been running the Underdog gimmick almost since his career started and his older fans are starting to get sick of it. Some people want Alex to change it up and he is contemplating it.
|Backstage Rep |
» Unlike the Razorblade persona, Alex is kinda reclusive. Unless playing his character he is kinda quiet, but he can switch easily because before going to the indies he was invested in theater. Alex very readily will listen to advice from those who are better than him unless said person is snobbish or a jerk. He'll also help people with things if they ask for it, but he doesn't usually go out of his way unless requested. Both Alex and his character though are willing to put their body on the line to give a show to the crowd doing stunts that hype up whatever is going on.
With a background in theater, Alex, and as a result Razorblade, is much better at mic work than in-ring. He is a mouthpiece that if cultivated and taught the do's and don'ts could be one of best mic artist of AWE. As of right now though he still makes some mistakes that hold him back. His in-ring work usually depends on whoever he is up against. If he is facing a jobber he'll probably put out jobber work, but if he's against a high level competitor he can do better. If only he could do that good against the jobbers he'd be able to stay up in the rankings.
|Other |
» Alex's journey to AWE started in his hometown near Chapel Hill. He grew up in an area with a lot of other kids who loved wrestling. They all would often gather together and have their own 'promotions' before gathering near a TV to watch the pros. Alex was one of the better kids in the area.
As all the kids grew older they all realized only a few of them were good enough to potentially live out all of their dreams. Eight kids in number gave up their individual dreams to help support the three best of their group, Alex being one of them. For the next two years they helped the three train and then one day, when Alex was 18, they set up a dark match with a distant promotion. A 3-on-3 tag team match. The new blood lost horribly, but surprisingly the manager of the company signed two of the kids to join the CWA, Carolina Wrestling Association. For the next few months the two new guys were a dominant tag team and the more veteran teams didn't like them. They kept hassling the two inside the ring and out. It all culminated in a match between Alex and his partner against three members from various teams. Alex and his partner were doing well in the unscripted match until Alex's 'friend' hit him in the back of the head with a chair. Apparently the guy couldn't take the harassment and abandoned Alex and left the show for good.
After the horrible loss Alex started his Underdog Gimmick. Fans started eating it up. One guy betrayed vs the world. CWA's records were going through the roof. Then the company fell flat due to constant lawsuits from past competitors because of constant injuries. Alex started roaming from place to place in various indie scenes. The little reputation he had built in CWA was dwindling until a talent scout from AWE saw Alex perform and had him put in a development place for AWE. Alex trained harder than he ever had and when he was finally ready Alex, under the name Razorblade, took his first chance in the spotlight and crushed it. He signed a long term contract and the rest is yet to come.
» Alex Pettyfer |
49,033 | 1,324 | 6 | 1,435 | 3,654 | Collab with
Wow, there was so much bad blood between the divas. That was one hell of match. Too bad she couldn’t watch the ending because she needed to get into position for her backstage interview. Joy Ryder was sure Morgana set the stage for the next event. No longer can the sorceress focus on Barbie because now Sydney Ellis was aiming her bat straight at her head. One day, hopefully sooner rather than later, Trinity will join in on the madness. Joy knew her sister’s day was coming and when that day did come, she would be completely ecstatic and ready to interview her baby sister. But, this wasn’t the time or place to think about another underdog besides her current subject matter, who was standing next to her as she held the black mic adorned with an orange A and subtle red marks within both of her hands. Her twin brother, Chance Ryder, focused in on Joy’s face with his camera, while he and his twin were given the 10 second mark.
”Speeding.” Her brother lowly muttered. He was preparing himself to do a quick pan to the wrestler the moment his sister said the guy’s name.
Beatrix Mayes, the program producer in charge of handling all AWE production for over twenty years, who looked incredibly young for her age, watched the interview on a television screen in a different room, so that the wrestler could respond more naturally and not feel her intimidating presence. Pressing on her headpiece, she signaled the Ryder twins with her undeniably sensual and strident voice, ”And we’re live in five, four, three, two--”
”Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Razorbladeeee!” Joy had a bright demeanor on, as she always did, and it reflected through her smile. Her blue eyes looked straight into the lense with the utmost confidence and then Chance panned to Alex’s face. Alex looked extremely focused, but there was also the slightest bit of nervousness on his face. While the image rested on Razorblade, Joy brought the mic to her right hand and before bringing it to his lips, she gave him a sympathetic gaze and welcomed him with her first question (they were on a time limit, after all), ”With all the heightened emotions in tonight’s Shock and Awe, I can’t imagine what’s going on in your head, so I have to know, how do you feel about this upcoming match with Chaos Clayton?”
Razorblade gave a smirk to the camera before he began speaking, ”Well, Joy, I’m am super excited for this opportunity. If someone had told me a year ago that I’d have a chance at the AWE World Title, I probably would have laughed right then and there. This is the biggest opportunity in my career, and I’ll admit that I’m VERY nervous. However, I’m not fighting for myself. I’m fighting for every little guy that the world seems to push down. Clayton is just the first step to a journey. What journey that is depends on how well I do.” Razorblade smiled at the camera and started bouncing on his feet and shaking his hands out waiting for the next question.
With a positive gleam, Joy nodded at his words. So far, so good. Razorblade was on the right path and he won over most of the younger generation’s hearts. Underdogs helped kids believe they could be something more than they ever thought they could be. He, along with Chaos Clayton even, still had work ahead of them. They had yet to become full fledged professional wrestlers, but they were getting there, and Joy wanted to help them as much as possible. If she wasn’t mistaken, she had three to five minutes of airtime, so she had to make sure she brought out the most character in Razorblade, in the short span of time. One question down, two more to go. “Going off what you just said, with your journey depending on how well you do, do you think you have what it takes to take down Chaos Clayton? Like what do you think you have over him?” It was time to hopefully bring out the passion in the wrestler. Being humble was all good and dandy, but every wrestler needed to be aware of their strengths and weaknesses, and even better if they knew where they had the advantage over their opponent.
Razorblade looked back to the camera and said, ”Everyone knows that Clayton and I have similar fighting styles, but he doesn’t have the heart I do. If it gets too difficult he’ll look for a cheap way to win. I know all of his tricks. I’ve watched his matches and know exactly how he likes to fight. I’ve also got an up over him in grapples and submissions. All I need to do is lock him in a submission and he is done for. He just can’t last as long as I can.”
Come on, Alex. Bring out your character, exaggerate more. Win your fans over. A devilish grin fell on Joy’s face. With the mic by her lips, she thoughtfully asked (there was a hint of challenge in her tone), “How long can you last, Razorblade? How far are you willing to go? Because there’s a lot of competition out there and you know this business by now. If you don’t have what it takes, you’ll be buried alive.”
”Someone has to be there to put a smile on the kids’ faces. I want to be that person. I will be that person. You wanna know how far I’ll go? I’ll keep going until I can’t move my body, and I do it for them. The kids need a hero. Even if someone says that they can’t, they need someone to show them that they can. That no matter how much the world pushes them down that they can stand up and be champions of their own lives. Now yes, there is a lot of competition in this business, and they’ll do everything they can to push me down. But I will always get back up and prove them wrong. I am--” Razorblade looks a Joy and smirks then continues, ”Razorbladeeee! Remember that name.” He gave his signature howl then walked off smiling.
The camera stood on Joy, as Razorblade walked off. She playfully shook her head at his teasing (since he said his name in the same tone and affliction as she did at the beginning of the interview). She was an expressive woman!
“And commercial. Great work, Joy! I expect great things from him, but we’ll have to bring out more heat, definitely. Did you look at script or are you still doing the Wade method?” The prominent Producer’s voice cooed into Joy’s ear from her earpiece.
As such, Joy replied with a sassy eye roll, “The Wade method. I’ll watch to see who wins on screen. I prefer experiencing it rather than knowing. And my questions are usually always better on the spot.”
“Like your mother, alright the fight is about to begin. You’ll hear from me soon.” And as soon as the voice appeared, it vanished, leaving Joy to blankly stare at her twin, who beckoned her to follow him. He had another position to get to, but he could drop her off by catering where a monitor was set up.
“Trinity is waiting for you.” | I see you!
The best things in life are dangerous, like me.
5' ¾", 106 lbs - 5'8", 135 lbs
2 years Developmental, will debut soon with her husband
3 Years at AWE, 2 years at Developmental. 5 years total.
|Birth Name |
» Alice Jane Slayer (Kennedy)
» Ariel Michelle Slayer (Flanagan)
|Hails From |
» Atlanta, GA
» April 17 (26)
» October 22 (23)
|Backstage Rep |
» You got all these sweethearts dressed as bitches, guess what? Ari is a fucking bitch on and off the ring. She does not like you. It takes her a LONG time to accept you into her world because your flaws are blaring red and she fucking hates it. Some people do not get the concept of personal space. If she's doing her own thing, don't interrupt her. She enjoys dark humor, other people's drama, and crude people. Constantly observing her surroundings, she will size you up before you approach her. Ruthless. Entitled. & Impatient. She was never fond of dealing with people, which is honestly her biggest weakness on the ring. Charisma, that is. It isn't something that comes naturally to her like it does for her little sister.
As flawed as Ari is, those she does let in, like her husband, Michael Flanagan, know that she does mean well, but due to personal experiences, her built mechanism of verbally lashing out at people to protect her own, has gotten to a point where she can't really break it down over night. Ari is a tough cookie and audaciously bold. A risk taker, through and through. A primadonna is an understatement of her personality and Ari refuses to be considered less than. She aims to be in the big leagues, even if it means she might break a few bones...
You see, she and Michael were already dating prior to their debut at AWE, which was near the same time. It wasn't hard for him to gain attraction because even if he leans more on the timid side when he's out of character, he's a phenomenal heel and it shined through since day 1. Ari, however, spent her first two years figuring out her image. She was simply a blank canvas, a doll of a woman, and a temperamental wrestler, who fought well enough to get her to the mid card but required A LOT of polishing, as she tried her downright best to 'find herself' in the ring.
A year ago, Michael and her got married, and for a year, the writers have been pushing her more toward his storyline to enhance his biker boy look and guess what? It's working. People are starting to see the character behind the bitch. While Ajax is the tail gunner of his motorcycle gang, Fallen Angels, she is his queen. The Bonnie to his Clyde, who knows her way around her gun, or in this case the ring, and isn't afraid to use that to her advantage. She's a tough-talking, quick-shooting criminal and is growing to be a machine gun-blazing woman who you better not underestimate. Whenever she's threatened, she doesn't even flinch, she jumps right in and marks her territory. Fearless and it's all thanks to the writers pushing her more in the direction of the rebel girl archetype because it's something Ariel can actually relate to.
Fun fact: She isn't fond of motorcycles, but for love, she'll get on one.
» Amore hasn't debuted yet, but her face is known backstage because of her sister. The young, energetic valet aspires to be as influential as Jezebel (FC: Jessa Hinton), who was the Faceless' on-screen eye candy and eventual wife. Jezebel may have made the Faceless seem more humane, but Amore? She wants to do more than be an accessory for her love. Revolutionize the role of valets all over! At the root of it all, Alice is a business woman, who doesn't just want to 'accompany' her husband when she's on the ring with him. She wants to get heavily involved in the action inside, outside, within the audience-- ANYWHERE. A dreamer, the doll aims to earn the loudest pops of the night. Her beloved Benjamin tells her she has a niche and that is her charisma. Her stage presence. When Amore is in the spotlight, there is no doubt people will be starstruck.
Sneaky, cunning, and without hesitation, Amore will do absolutely anything for Mordecai to heighten his chances of winning. It helps that she has one sexy act that no one can top. Rated R, sexy-goodness. She acts like a child, but moves her body like a woman. Her influence is undeniable and even if wrestling isn't her top skill (it's singing and acting), she will go down in history!
As for backstage? A lovable, naive, playful and misleading young adult. Careless and foolish. Accidental prone when she isn't performing. Alice doesn't want to grow up, so she'll act far younger than she is. Oh, and she's scary possessive over her husband.
|Other |
» FCs: Kerli Kõiv & Jana
» 721728 & 324C83
|Fighting Style |
» Ari keeps you on your toes, you never know what to expect and has a passion for power. Known for her agility, high stunts, and her attitude, Ari, from the get go, set her sight on cleaning up the Divas division, showing that girls were more than accessories and tools. Even her sister, who does strut her body like it's nobody's business, isn't just that. A body. Amore is a character, whose insanity and giggles will be what the people remember. Psychotic little girl trapped in a woman's form.
Meanwhile, Ari has commitment to excellence and wants to be recognized as a professional wrestler, with Ajax by her side. Her goal: to be one of the most vicious Divas of her era. She doesn't even have to be one of the stars, she just wants to be scary. Although she isn't there yet, she will continue to work her ass off. Her current success is all thanks to her athleticism, hotheaded personality, impressive arsenal of offensive maneuvers, and her husband's biker persona.
Ari has countless ways of finishing her opponents and she will not give into status quo. A true queen of the rebels.
|Signature Moves |
» Highside (Diving Hurricanrana)
» Ari Bomb (Lita Bomb)
» Eating Asphalt (Swanton Bomb)
» Helmet Head (Hardiac Arrest)
|Finisher |
» Boneyard Moonsault (Moonsault)
» New Prime (Widow's Peak)
|Theme |
» Whatever she had before, doesn't matter. Now she has Superhuman to match Ajax.
|Gimmick |
» As said earlier in backstage rep, Ari is Ax's Bonnie to his Clyde. His ride or die. They have a fiery dynamic and shower each other with attention. They are motivated by chasing the danger, excitement, and action of wrestling. He's the gun, she's the trigger. If Ari isn't happy, Ajax is pissed. He might be the King of the Hill but without his queen, the high of living it dangerous 24/7 isn't as addicting. They're into each other in a visceral and physical way. There is a sense of co-dependency and downright bat-shit insanity between these two. Ariel even went out of her way to get 'His' tattoo on her lower back, to match Michael's "Hers" tattoo on his arm, to add to their act (when he wraps his arm around her, the audience would know - she belongs to him). A psychotic and possessive love story where their need for one another is absolutely dangerous for anyone, including each other.
Soon enough, the audience will learn crazy runs in the Slayer family because when Amore makes her debut, they'll see that the blonde is light years ahead in the insanity department.
As for fashion sense? Ari is a daredevil biker chick. Leather jacket with the Fallen Angels symbol, bustiers to showcase her stomach and her back (especially when her coat is off), leather boots, denim, the color scheme black and white, bandannas, anything really that makes her look like a total badass.
|Face or Heel |
» Heel
|Job at AWE |
» Amore will be a valet for Mordecai, who is her husband off screen.
|Skills |
» Persistent and high physical stamina
Charming and full of energy, Alice is an energetic doer, cheerful and extremely spontaneous. A true woman of action. Even if she doesn't seem it, she has strong observational skills and a keen sense to other people's feelings. Quite the problem solver, regardless of her outlandish methods. This spirited blonde would like to think she's an excellent diplomat and negotiator, especially when it comes to her pitching ideas. By nature, she's too open and direct to deliberately manipulate someone (lies and manipulation is foreign to her, unless it's for an act), but she will fight her cause until there isn't any fight left in her.
» Improviser
Perceptive, witty, and clever. Rarely missing anything that is important, because she approaches everything with curiosity and interest, Alice will take impossible situations and make 'em great. Her memory for details and facts are impressive. She absorbs everything that interests her like a sponge, storing it in her noggin for later use.
» Dancing, acting, and gymnastic experience.
Pretty point blank, Alice kept her family busy by getting them to sign her up to as much as possible so she can get better at... life. Also, with such a busy schedule when she was younger, she didn't need to be home, which was a far more pleasant option than dealing with the turmoil. Her home life drew her insane. Convincing her parents to get her involved in the community was the easy part, making them part of it, her life, though? Not so much.
» Odd & blessed with boundless creativity
Alice has always been a little weirdo. Too much individuality for one girl. And yet, she doesn't know how to be any different. Sure, some of her creative ideas are concerning and creepy, but why should she limit herself? If her mind wants to run rampant, it should! Being different isn't a bad thing and Alice will never change for anyone.
|Looks & Style |
» Inspired by her aunt, who led a broken family with dignity and grace, Amore strives to be a visual masterpiece. Her aunt was a woman who carried whatever she wore like a queen. A queen who had an undeniable ability to live a life of pure kindness. Alice's goal, no matter where she is, or if she's being Amore or not, is to make her image timeless. Definitive and iconic, to where it is her trademark. Her look. A look that pushes boundaries and continues to evolve. Alice wants to be a trend setter, a walking fashion statement, and when people look at their television screen or see her on the ring, she wants them to recognize her immediately and maybe, just maybe, follow her as an example. If she can aspire others to walk with an air of confidence, loving who they were, while also not being afraid to explore out of the box, then her life would be more than fulfilled.
What more could you ask for? She's happily married, she has endless projects that make her smile, she's about to start the career of her life that will hopefully set her on a remarkable path of happiness and success, and if she's able to move someone or an entire audience in ways not many people can, then she can say she is more than satisfied with the life she's been given.
Hardships aside. Alice is a happy girl.
|Personality Traits |
» Visionary → Imaginative → Fun-Loving → Gregarious → Persistent → Dutiful (even if she is unbeknownst to the fact that she's a tease) → Exuberant → Trusting → Picky → Dependent → Reckless → Fearful (primarily of her husband leaving her)
|Favorite wrestler |
» She's biased. Her husband, even if he hasn't made his mark yet. Alice will make it known that he's HER favorite. |
49,034 | 1,324 | 7 | 1,117 | 49 | Ian arrived at the building only an hour and a half before the show began, and immediately made his way over to the card tonight.
Nothing.
"Come on!" Ian placed his hands firmly on his hips, then took a glance at the tournament roster. He got to beat Kid Neon, then lose to the eventual winner in his next match. Not too bad, in hindsight. Irritating, sure, that Owen wasn't going far in the tourney, but at least he was going over someone.
"At least I've got a bunch of life show dates." In fact, Owen Sparks was the perfect character to work live shows, as it allowed him to gain experience traveling the world and enhancing his talent. In fact, Kid Neon was a common opponent at the live shows, and the two worked well together, their fast-paced styles meshing quite well.
After being notified by a crew member, Ian passed by a familiar Sexton Love regurgitating his booze, and into a room with a green screen and a camera. The producer leaned over the camera, attempting to look out the door.
“Is uh… Is Sexton ok?” His question was quickly answered with another voice outside.
“Jesus fucking christ, man! Get a drink of water, clean yourself up and go sit down!" Ian looked out to find Oscar trying to pull Sexton up.
“I’m sure he’ll be fine.” Ian replied, turning back to the cameraman. “Do you want me to get made up?”
“Yeah, read over your lines while you’re at it.” The producer signalled to a young man, who hesitantly gave Ian his script, hoping he wouldn’t shred it up this time. Ian took it kindly, and walked away to get his body paint sorted.
Before long Ian made his way to the makeup area, finding a seat in front of a mirror. He swivelled his body around, and found one of the makeup artists near him. “Hey uh, Tay, right? Do you mind doing my shoulder pad paint? I have to film one of those live show commercials.”
Zachary Hanson entered the centre where that night’s show took place, and found that few had arrived yet. Granted, it was early in the day, but the ring and entrance set pieces hadn’t even been set up yet. Before anything else, Zack dropped his gym bag and helped get these things done. He had always been a hard worker, above all else, and simply standing by and watching others do the work had never been part of his lifestyle.
Once this was done, Zachary returned behind the curtain to find the card had been put up, as well as the bracket for a tournament. Once Zack read the first segment of the show, he knew why. Turned out Drayden would be hanging up the championship, and that the tournament would determine the new champion. Getting into the final four was no easy feat. And even though wrestling isn’t real, the climb to the top still is, and only hard work and dedication will make that happen. “Turns out Rhys has proved his worth. Should be good to see what they do with him as champion.”
And with that, Zack left to get to the local gym, to get prepared for his match with Caiden. What they said about him was true. Caiden really was one of the best, so him losing in the first round of this tournament was… strange, really. "It'll be interesting to see what creative wants to do with him. I'll have to talk with Kevin later." | Zachary Wake
"Anyone who is too nice cannot be trusted. I'll leave them writhing in my wake!"
6'3" - 264lbs | 10 Years of Experience
|Birth Name|
» Zachary Hanson
|Hails From|
» Melbourne, Australia
» April 25, 1988 (29)
|Fighting Style|
» Zachary is rather simple in fighting, as his character focuses more on his natural charisma and way with words. Think Bobby Roode. He uses all the easily identifiable moves, sans high-flying and acrobatic styles. He likes to trash talk while in submissions/rest holds, and enjoys playing with the crowd's emotions, sometimes letting the face seem like they're going to get off a big move and then striking with a low blow when the ref isn't looking. He doesn't mind playing dirty, as it is just a means to an end, the end being the AWE Championship.
|Signature Moves|
» Eye Gouge
» Rope Hung Forearms but with his opponent one the other side of the barricade so the crowd can watch up-close.
» Liontamer
» Stalled Suplex
|Finisher|
» Sitout Electric Chair Facebuster
» Electric Chair off of the Top Rope (For the big matches)
|Theme|
» Is this epic enough?
|Gimmick|
» Zachary's gimmick is that he is the dirty heel that the fans love to hate. His promo work after 10 years of experience leads to him being able to play with the crowd and improv when they start chanting something. He purposely riles them up by beginning every promo acting as a face would, then insulting his rival at the time, which easily gives him some heat.
|Face or Heel|
» Natural Heel
|Backstage Rep|
» Zack is a well-respected and valuable member of the backstage crew, not just because of his in-ring work, but from the years of respect he's gained helping out the back. Each night he gets in early, leaves late and makes sure everyone does their bit in helping the show run smoothly. Whenever he's got spare time he sits down with creative to see where they think his character should be headed, and always tries to help them decide on the best choice for Wake.
As such, Zack understands and is confident in the booking decisions in relation to his character, whether it be win, lose or draw. He's fine with helping the young ones get over, since he has been there, and will do everything in his power to help them succeed. Zachary cares deeply about the business, and it shows.
|Other|
» In his time Zachary has had many shots at the big one, the AWE Championship, but has always come up short in the big matches. The closest he got to officially owning the belt was when he knocked out the referee, allowing him to strike his then-rival Drayden down with weapons. However, the decision was reversed, causing quite the stir-up and made his and Drayden's rivalry all the better.
» Zachary is a former three-time AWE Intercontinental Champion, and all three of those runs were quite meaningful, helping Zachary ascend to the upper-midcard rather quickly. The last of these runs ended around 9 months ago, but all of them lasted over 3 months. Since then, Zachary has taken a bit more of a back seat, returning to the midcard, but still making (failed) attempts at championships every now and again. When he isn't being used in storylines or championship matches, Zachary is the perfect guy for a 3-Way/4-Way #1 Contender Match (Think of Sami Zayn/Baron Corbin, in this respect).
» Zachary also had an short stint as AWE Tag Team Champion in a time when the tag division was particularly weak, teaming with a rather eccentric fellow named Senji Veryhurt, a stereotypical strong style Japanese wrestler.
» Face Claim: Ryan Botha
» ff0000
Owen Sparks
"I'm the spark of light in the darkness. The AWE title is as good as mine!"
5'9" - 178lbs | 1 Year of Experience
|Birth Name|
» Ian Owen Hamilton
|Hails From|
» Cincinnati, Ohio
» September 14th, 1998 (19)
|Fighting Style|
» Since he really has only just begun, Owen hasn't developed a broad moveset, but is leaning towards a risk-taking grappler/high flier, with little time for technical/brawling styles. Owen isn't what one would call a polished or magnificent wrestler, but he shows promise in the moves he can do well. Before entering his angle with Zachary Wake, Owen was very much a "Five Moves of Doom" type wrestler, and since the story has started, Wake has been helping Owen to expand his moves.
|Signature Moves|
» Flying Cross Body
» Step-Up Enziguri (Usually as the opponent is standing on a turnbuckle)
» Bridging German Suplex (To pin)
» Still growing, so a fourth move will come eventually.
|Finisher|
» Shocker (Monkey Flip into Crossface)
» Sparkling Brilliance (Swinging Backbreaker into Standing Backsault)
|Theme|
» Mmm, Electric Guitars
|Gimmick|
» Owen is the happy-go-lucky new babyface, both in-character and out, really. He is excited to be wrestling in any promotion, and shows great promise. He adds a new move to his arsenal every match, and is meant to portray a growing and changing wrestler-in-training. However, though he is a face, Sparks has recently become the apprentice to Zachary Wake, a heel who doesn't mind cheating to win. And it seems like Owen may soon adopt his teacher's philosophy in an attempt to stop his shaky win:loss ratio.
He's still developing his skills on the mic, but like all young wrestlers, he has some semblance of a natural charisma that is being pushed to be honed through promos either just before or after his matches.
|Face or Heel|
» Babyface
|Backstage Rep|
» Since he is relatively new to AWE Ian hasn't build himself a reputation quite yet. As such, only a few wrestlers really know Ian, and can put up with his slightly cocky attitude. He knows he isn't the best as that is just ignorant, but knows that he was picked up by AWE after only 1 year in the business meaning that the scouters either overestimated his talents, or they know that he has a lot of room to grow. Ian likes to believe it's the latter.
Regardless of wrestling talent, Ian is loyal to his close buddies, and is constantly trying to improve himself - both physically and mentally - through the help of those friends. He recognizes that there is a lot to be improved about himself, but can't pinpoint those problems by himself. As such, he often finds himself being arrogant to others, and potentially racist at times if he isn't careful.
Despite these flaws, there's a reason Ian nails the happy-go-lucky gimmick: It still comes to him naturally.
|Other|
» Owen Sparks is currently participating in an angle/feud with Zachary Wake in an attempt to help get Owen over with the crowd, by having Owen have a moral conflict between doing what's right, and doing what needs to be done for him to win. Zachary is trying to persuade Owen to cheat so he can get his wins up.
» Nickname(s): The Spark of Brilliance
» Face Claim: George Blagden
» DAA520 |
49,035 | 1,324 | 8 | 2,180 | 2,019 | Location: Locker Room > Catering Tables
Interacting with: Drayden
Collab with:
Drayden looked up from his spot in the locker room, at one of his storied rivals, and close friends. He and Oscar had a history that was forever etched into the walls of AWE. He listened to Oscar talk, before looking up and shaking his head. Deciding to be honest, William responded to Oscar bluntly. “I’m not okay. This is going to be the longest time I’ve ever been away from the ring. I’m not ready for that.” He let out a deep sigh, before scoffing at Oscar’s second question. “Yeah, actually. She is. That’s why she mostly gets her way. Man, I don’t even want to get up, but sure. I might as well head to the screening room, I wanna catch the matches tonight, after all.”
”Yeah, I was injured for a few months about two years ago. It fucking sucked. You’ve just got to keep up the recovery and exercises, and hold out until you’re fit enough to start working out and practising again. After that, the rest of the time until you’re cleared just flies by. It takes some getting used to, but then again, I suppose you’re not used to it. I don’t think you’ve ever had a serious injury before. It was bound to happen some time with how hard you work.”
Oscar stood up, and held out his hand to Will. He considered bringing up the fact that Drayden never had holidays and this could be a blessing in disguise, but he knew better. He knew what it was like to have this business be your life and have that taken away. If anybody had said that to Oscar when he was injured, they’d have been hit. One other thing Oscar did remember, though, was the hunger and thirst he brought on himself from a lack of appetite. ”Also,” He then spoke, concerned. “I know from memory that eating’s the last thing you want to do right now but you probably should eat something.”
“Yeah, it’s the first time I’ve been injured. Hopefully the last, but who knows? There’s a lot of stress on the body out there, I guess. I never had to think about it before…” He stared off into space for a few moments, as Oscar continued to talk, bring up food or something. Did Drayden want to eat? No, not really; but he supposed that Oscar was correct. Eating would do him some degree of good, after all he needed to keep himself healthy. “Sure, let’s walk over to catering — well, you can walk. I’ll limp. Since I’m a cripple now. What a joke.” He stood up on his one good leg, and rested on the crutches that he readjusted under knee, accepting Oscar’s help up to his feet.
“Hey, don’t think you little shits are gonna get rid of me, neither. I’m gonna be at as many shows as I can be, gotta watch the competition while I’m gone. Don’t want anyone sneaking up and taking my position at the top of the mountain, after all.” He said, with a hint of biting sarcasm as he gestured with one of his hands. “Lead the way, if you don’t mind. Make sure everyone minds the cripple.”
Oscar chuckled, and shook his head. ”Well, you definitely don’t have to worry about me taking that position. The brackets of the tournament were posted today and I make it to the semi-finals, beating Savaka in the quarters, so I might be having an IC title feud soon and that’s if I’m lucky. Also, Gethin Rhys is booked to win the whole thing, so I think you’re safe. If they were trying to replace you, they wouldn’t have booked a heel to win.”
Oscar escorted his friend to the catering tables. Due to the nature of this business, people had their meals where they could make time, so the tables were always occupied but never busy. ”What are you hungry for?” He asked Drayden.
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that, I’ve been talking with Kevin, and you know that everything happens for a reason. I won’t spoil anything, but don’t be so surprised if they do end up crowning a new face of the company after all of this.” Drayden said bluntly with a shrug of his shoulders. It was true, ever since Kevin had come in, everything had a place in the booking. “Maybe Roddy will change his mind, though. He used to do that a lot, remember? Sometimes, on the day of a big match, he’d change his decision. Old man slipping,” Drayden said, looking around at the different foods.
“Pizza. It’s the only way to truly de-stress after all this.”
The two friends ate pizza in silence, both thinking to themselves as they ate, contemplating wrestling, the company, the future and the present. Oscar was standing, Will was sitting down. When Oscar was finished, he wiped his hands on his jeans then turned to Will. “So, feel any better now you’ve got some food inside you?”
“A little bit. Pizza always helps, man. What time is it now? Probably…” William looked down at the watch on his rest and was slightly taken aback by the time it showed. How long had they been eating pizza?! Drayden looked up at the now empty stack of pizza boxes… A while. They’d been eating pizza for a while. “Shit, brother. It’s time for the main event already.”
Oscar looked at his watch, stood up, and started briskly walking to the screening room, making sure that Will was right behind him and if he wasn’t, slowing down. They finally reached the room, and sat down. They’d missed the first couple of seconds of action , but otherwise had made it on time. Several other wrestlers were there now. Anybody who wasn’t in the main event or otherwise busy would often watch just the main event.
The match was indeed a good one. Oscar was surprised that Caiden lost in the first round even though he had read the brackets, though, he’d only glanced at it to see what the plans for him were, and who would be the winner. Caiden was exceptionally talented wrestler, and very over with the fans. It seemed strange to Oscar that such a draw would lose in round one, but knowing the current writing team, there was a reason for this. | is no monster under your bed, because I'm right here.
6”8 – 130kg| Eight Years Of Experience
|Birth Name |
»Andrew Gosforth
|Hails From |
»Paisley, Scotland
»April 7th, 1986 (31)
|Fighting Style |
» Hector is a large man, and as such has a large arsenal of power moves, but what sets him apart from other powerhouses is his in-ring psychology, mindgames and theatrics. In his gimmick’s newest incarnation, will sometimes hurt himself just to unnerve his opponent, as well as relish in the pain of his opponent instead of fighting to win quickly. A Hector match can be an uncomfortable watch, and sometimes won’t even feel PG even though it breaks no rules.
|Signature Moves |
» Daddy’s Awake (Spear/Double Leg Takedown hybrid with theatrics)
» Nightmare Drop
» Chokeslam Backbreaker
» Lifting Spinebuster
|Finisher |
» Straightjacket Neckbreaker
» Dreamcatcher
|Theme |
» Old Theme:
» New Theme:
|Backstage Rep |
»’Hector’ had enjoyed success as a big guy with the gimmick of an insane slasher villain, though this translated to cheesy effects, mind games and blackout attacks every other week. He was never a world champion though he did briefly hold the IC belt, and had an upper-card feud with Drayden during one of the rare instances when he wasn’t champion or challenging for the championship. This all came to an end over a year ago when Andrew had to go through a messy divorce, and took time off to return to Scotland and deal with that. He was written off TV by being set of fire from one of the chemicals of Dr. Sinister off the back of a feud with The creation, and then he was gone.
Several months ago, he came back for training, and to people’s surprise, it’s as if he was never gone. She’s the same old chatty, friendly big scot who enjoys a drink, and he had very little ring rust. He fell back into place in the AWE machine and is now ready to return to the ring, though his debut is still being held off until after the tournament. Personally, Andrew isn’t sure his character still fits in with an industry that’s gearing towards a more realistic, MMA style populated by small, fast guys with realistic names and characters, or maybe that just means he’s needed more than ever.
|Gimmick |
» Hector’s new gimmick is far more genuinely scary and intense than his old one. He is now a deranged psychopath, and even though there are still blackout attacks and lighting effects, Hector is framed less of a supernatural monster than he was in his previous run and far more of an ordinary albeit twisted and deranged human, and therefore all the more unsettling for it, as he seems real now. He will wear creepy masks, give nonsensical promos that make the interviewer uncomfortable, stalk his feuding opponents backstage in skits and during their promos, ect. His mindgames are a thing of beauty now. Rather than before, where every opponent would get the same thing (dolls, abandoned asylums, little girls), now each feud’s mindgames are tailored towards the fears and insecurities of his opponents and a big deal will be made of him getting inside their heads.
|Face or Heel |
» Indiscriminate Heel
|Other |
» Face Claim – Rory McCann |
49,036 | 1,324 | 9 | 2,573 | 1,662 | Featuring:
And:
And introducing:
Location: Hallway > Kevin’s Office
Collab with:
Kevin Harrison was on a mission to find a particular member of the roster… which was always kind of hard, honestly. For a bunch of people who were supposed to be unmistakable on camera, and stand out in a crowd… they did a damn good job of disappearing backstage. Eventually, he realized his target, Suzy Mackintosh, Diana Valentine, whatever you wanted to call her, was probably hiding out in the once place he would never look: Women's Locker Room.
Heading over there, Kevin banged on the door without a single fuck to give “HEY. Diana! You in there? You know you’re never gonna get booked if you hide from the writer, girl!”
Snapping out of her creative daze, Diana looked up from her notepad and directly that the trembling locker room door. "Just a second!" She responded. Jumping to her feet, Diana pulled the latest in Gethin Rhys merchandise, a simple black T with a family crest on the breast, over her sports bra and straightened herself out. She glanced at all the over women who were looking at her and she simply shook off their glares. She walked over to the door and quickly squeezed out of the small space she made opening it up a crack. She couldn’t let Kevin see the other girls inside, so her exit had to be less than graceful.
"Kevin, you know I never hide from anyone...except maybe Roger the sound guy. He’s a little bit creepy. I digress. Anyway, what’s up?"
Kevin shook his head, but ultimately he agreed. Roger from sound was kind of creepy, and Kevin was a dude. He couldn’t imagine how it felt as a girl. “I got something for you, it’s in my office, come check it out.” He explained, gesturing for her to follow and walking off toward his office. “I know you want to be on-screen a lot, but most of our guys can carry their own promo work, y’know? So, they don’t really need a manager. Fortunately for you, I think I’ve found the solution to that problem! I know, I’m sure you’re trembling with excitement. Well, don’t be. I found a guy in developmental, that’s kind of... well, he basically stumbles and stutters a lot on the mic, but man, can he work a match. So, you’re gonna take him, build him up, and teach him how to use the mic. I know you’re a good promo, so I’m trusting you to go above and beyond with this one. Work on it after hours, riding from show to show, whenever you get a chance. Roddy is high on this dude, so you gotta help me out.”
Finally Diana thought; she was going to get her chance. She had wanted nothing more than an opportunity since she was a little girl watching The Ghost Ryder beat people up on a weekly basis. “You know I appreciate this, Kevin. Really I do. I’m just glad you’re not giving me a complete greenhorn to work with. As long as the guy can work like you say, I’ll be able to get him over no problem." Kevin had been watching her back for a while now. He had helped her whilst she was in developmental herself and even pulled a few strings to get her touring with the main roster, even if she wasn’t being used. "I’m up for this challenge, boss!" Diana brushed her hair back into a ponytail and smiled. "So what am I working with exactly, Kev? Does the kid have any kind of gimmick or any kind of jumping off point I can play with or what?"
“Well, he’s very large. And he likes to throw people around, here just look for yourself,” Kevin said, pushing open his office door and revealing Dylan standing there, holding in his hand a bag of Doritos, which looked like it was for children, but was actually family size. The huge man slowly tossed another handful of chips into his mouth, before waving to Kevin and Diana. “Diana, meet Dylan Weaver.”
“Hi. The mountain of a man offered, still chewing his chips.
“Good God." Diana stood aback as she looked at the mass of humanity that stood before her. "Where in the blue hell did they find you? Asgard?” Fuck." Diana took a step forward towards the hulking behemoth and smiled to regain her composure. "Hi Dylan, my name’s Suzy but on any other day I go by Diana. It’s nice to meet you. Looks like I’m gonna make you a star." The flame haired manager’s sweet smile soon shifted to a cocky smirk as she looked over her new charge. She turned her attention back to Kevin and put her soft hand on his shoulder. "I owe you for this one, Kev. Take your pick of a diva and I’ll put in a word for you." She chuckled as the little girl inside her began to scream with excitement.
“This is a big motherfucker, right? It’s insane. You should see him work, he just tosses people around like they’re garbage bags. Uh, hold off on that word in with the girls, my fiance would probably end my life.” Kevin joked, as Dylan nodded to himself and beamed at Diana. “He’s also young too, I think he just turned like 23 a few months back, so you’ve got plenty of time to mould him. Enjoy.”
“I’m really excited. I don’t know why it happens, but as soon as I’m in the ring with a mic in my hand, doesn’t matter if it’s twenty people, or twenty thousand people, I get stage fright and sound like a dumbass… so having someone else talk for me will be really good.” Dylan admitted, shrugging his massive shoulders.
“The plan is to debut him in two, maybe three weeks. Maybe even after the tournament ends, we don’t want to pull too much attention off of that… So, you have time. He’s going to be a monster, running through most people. Possibly local workers until we get to a point that we want him to tear through our normal undercard. So you have sometime to really build a character with him.”
"He’ll be ready in two but you’re the boss, hoss" Diana grinned confidently. She had to be confident, she just had to be. There was no room for error on this one. This was her opportunity to fulfil her dream and she wasn’t going to let it slip through her fingers. "We’ll start right away then. Dylan, I ride the bus with Wade and some others. Jump in with us after the show and we’ll get you started" She once again looked over her new client and was amazed at his sheer size and now his youth. "God boy, what on Earth do they feed you? Cows and big rigs? My God" Now she was wondering just how hard it would be to actually squeeze Dylan into a seat on the AWE Express. "My mind is permeating with idea’s already"
A bus? Hey, it couldn’t be more uncomfortable than the rental car that Kevin had picked him up from the airport in. “Well, the height is just natural, but the muscles come from a diet with a lot, and I mean a lot of chicken breast. And a lot of lifting, my max bench right now is 500, all time anyway. It might slip a bit since I’m gonna be traveling around a lot more now, but that’s okay. As long as I can still toss people around, I’ll be fine.”
"I wouldn’t worry. There’s a couple of guys and girls here on the main roster who are very strict about their diets and gym time, myself included. I’ll introduce you to them and once you’re acquainted they’ll probably induct you into the body club." Diana stifled a laugh with her hand. "Anyway, should we get going. Lots to talk about and do. First and foremost I think that we should go watch some of the live promo’s being cut." | Daniel “DC” “Don’t Call Me Danny” “Danny” “Danny Church” Church
6’ - 184 lbs | 12
|Birth Name |
» Daniel Church
|Hails From |
» Sacramento, California
» October 9th, 1985 (31)
|Job at AWE |
» He does not work at AWE. However, he is often at their events and is friends with more than a few wrestlers and backstage employees. He is a wrestling journalist and posts stories as they come and go, and reviews the shows and matches. He reacts accordingly based on how he feels the company is performing, and has no qualms calling out a wrestler or wrestlers for having a shit match, cutting a shit promo, or calling out the powers that be for making their fucking look like goddamn geeks.
|Skills |
» Smooth talking
» Tech savvy
» Dadskills
» Radio host-esque silky smooth voice
» Good at ranting
|Reason for being here |
» When he was younger, in 2001, Daniel Church had a brilliant idea in his school computers class: he’d build a fucking website. Now, the first thing you had to do when building a website, was pick something you were passionate about… at the time, Danny Church was only really passionate about one thing: PROFESSIONAL WRESTLING. Even at the young age of fifteen, DC had a brilliant mind for coding and built a website that was grand, even for the times. It gained a following, and the forums on it exploded in popularity as the tape traders and more hardcore fans finally found a place to talk and get their opinions out there.
The Smark Remark, the website is known as, and it’s only grown since its original inception in mid-2001. Danny made friends with the right people, and after high school, he passed the day-to-day management of the website over to a team of administrators and moderators. The man himself began a focus on the content creation for the website. He hosted podcasts with wrestlers from all over the world, and he began to rate matches.
Every show he saw, either live or on a tape he bought, he rated the match. Over time, his ratings and opinions got a little controversial, with people arguing about whether he was right or wrong, but he there was one thing they agreed on: he was consistent. He also wrote reports on rumors that he heard, and posted opinions and frequently participated in conversations on the message boards.
Four years after graduating, when Danny was 22, his then girlfriend, Clarissa Whitaker, gave birth to his two beautiful children. Twins, a boy and a girl. Robert and Cynthia, Bobby and Cyn. His babies and his life — other than work. They are turning ten in January of next year, and attend an online school to make it easier on Daniel to travel around for his job. They haven’t seen their mother since they were two; as it turns out, their mother was… crazy, to say the least. After Daniel discovered her drug habits and realized she was a poison in his life, he cut her out and got full custody of his children.
Since then, the single dad life has been the life for him. Working and taking care of two rascals isn’t exactly the easiest lot in life, but… he makes it work. When he was called up by Walter Durrel, who proposed combining their two mediums a few years ago, DC jumped on the opportunity. Together now, they put out podcasts reviewing AWE mostly, as that’s Walter’s preferred company. In return, Danny Church offers the Smark Remark’s website as a new home for the Wrestling Journal. They make a surprisingly good team so far.
|Looks & Style |
» Decked out from head to toe in wrestling gear, Danny doesn’t give a FUCK about how people think of him in public. He’s a hardworking single father, get bent. He’ll sometimes match or contradict his children when they go to the shows — both of his kids are huge fans too.
|Personality Traits |
» Danny is brutal and quick to be critical. He doesn’t listen to the reasons for things sucking and just accepts that they suck. If a wrestler isn’t working at their full capacity because of injuries? Whatever, stop fucking working. Utilize your roster, people.
He’s fun to talk to, and is good at telling stories and ranting and making other people who agree with him happy. He often gets into long winded debates on his podcast with Walter, but as a person Danny honestly looks forward to it every night.
Deep down, he’s just a mark, dude. He loves wrestling, everything about it from the ground up is amazing, and he can’t get enough. The fact that he built something great out of his love for wrestling amazes him to this day, and the Smark Remark is his baby. He enjoys posting on the message boards to this day, and recording the weekly podcasts is something he lovingly looks forward to every day.
It’s his second baby, the thing he loves most right behind his children.
|Favorite wrestler |
» Caiden goddamn fucking Winters, fuck you Roddy for burying the best wrestler to ever grace this goddamn planet. And Retribution. Excited for him to come, which I'M SURE HE'LL DO EVENTUALLY ONCE RODERICK QUINN PULLS HIS HEAD OUT OF HIS FUCKING ASS. Gethin's a personal favorite too, at least he gets used properly by those idiots.
And fuck you Drayden, I bet you encouraged that shit, didn’t you? Gotta GO OVER EVERYONE. Asshole. And of course, my fucking kid loves you so I have all that stupid merchandise in my fucking HOUSE.
Trinity’s cool too.
And Morgana.
What? I can’t hate the kids’s favorites, I’d be an asshole.
Except for Drayden. Fuck you. And fuck your stupid fat head wall stickers, now you’re stuck to the goddamn wall behind my FUCKING COUCH.
|Rep at AWE |
» Honestly, most people at the AWE don’t really like him. Daniel is loud, brash, and he doesn’t care about calling them out if they do something stupid. If you botch one goddamn move you better believe DC will roast the fuck out of you. You lose a match looking like a geek and hate it? Too goddamn bad, Danny Church knows full well you’re a NERD and you’ll never live it down.
But, he’s undeniably good at the job, and they actually take his ratings seriously. The few wrestlers that Danny fanboys about are quite fond of him, and he does a good podcast that wrestlers try to take advantage of. It can just be hard to deal with someone that’s going to call out every little mistake you make, even when it’s more blamed on the booking team than yourself.
He also has a tendency to post rumors about who’s going to win or lose a match, and rarely checks the validity of his source. Unlike his partner, Walter, Daniel Church is not a journalist. He’s angry millennial who thinks Roderick Quinn is ruining his goddamn favorite thing by blowing Drayden and giving him everything he asks for.
This doesn’t stop every member of the locker room from obsessively checking his reviews, though. Even Roddy does it.
|Other |
» 16a064
» Jensen Ackles. |
49,037 | 1,324 | 10 | 2,789 | 249 | Sexton P.S. Love
Getting a drink of water wasn't bad advice. I mean, what else could could Sexton used to wash down his pills?
Booze.
He could use booze.
Unfortunately, alcohol was no longer allowed in the building. Something to do with "changing times", "professionalism," and "the health and wellness policy." It all sounded like a bunch of nonsense to Sexton, and as far as he was concerned if he wasn't booked on the show there wasn't really a problem. It was yet another example of the wrestling business becoming overly sanitized. Reaching into his fanny pack he pulled out a small mickey of vodka, and emptied it's contents into a plastic water bottle. The stench was pretty strong, but it was nothing compared to the foul odour of sweat and vomit seemingly emanating from every one of his pores.
After rehydrating himself, Sexton grabed a seat near one of the TV monitors backstage to watch some of tonight's matches. Sexton glanced around the locker room at his colleagues, thinking to himself that many of these so-called "wrestlers" looked more like actors on the CW Network. They had probably never been in a real fight in their lives. Sexton somewhat resented the direction that the wrestling business was heading. It seemed as though wrestlers were more concerned with performing flashy stunts and "sports entertainment exhibitions" as opposed to convincing fans that they were in a real, heated fight.
Another art that had truly been lost in the modern era was the art of the promo. Most wrestlers had their interviews overly scripted and were therefore unable to really develop their own characters or showcase their own personalities. The larger-than-life personas that once popularized wrestlng in 80s and 90s had disappeared and been replaced by generic names and canned promo lines. It was becoming harder and harder for fans to emotionally invest in professional wrestling.
Sexton got up and made his way past the hair and makeup area to find Ian Hamiltion, who wrestled for AWE as "Owen Sparks," rehearsing some of his lines for a spot promo he had been asked to shoot. Ian was a good kid, with a lot of raw talent and athleticism. Sure, he was greener than goose shit, and he looked like he was still in high school, but at least he was in good ring shape. Another wrestler, Zachary Wake, had become a mentor of sorts to Ian and had been helping him develop his moveset. But Sexton knew that unless Ian could connect with the fans on the microphone it wouldn't do him much good.
Sexton approached the young up-and-comer and slapped him on the back.
"Sparky baby," said Sexton, taking Ian by surprise. "I saw a couple of your matches from down in Greensboro daddeh, and you had the people in the palm of your hand."
It was true, Owen Sparks had come close to stealing the show at a couple of live events during the last loop of towns.
"Darlin' I know you're trying to make a name for yourself out there, but my God just promise me you'll be careful coming off that top rope. It's gotta mean somethin' daddeh, don't be killin' yourself out there just for the sake of it. Always remember darlin', a good match is like a good fuck. It's all about the foreplay. You gotta tease the fans a litte out there, and build to the big climax. That's how you make 'em SCREAM your name."
In all honestly, Sexton stop caring about having a good fuck some time ago, but he still prided himself on his work in the ring.
Sexton glanced down at the piece of paper in Ian's hands, with his promo lines written on it.
"And I know you don't want to step on too many toes, but nobody knows who Owen Sparks is better than you darlin'. When you get in that promo booth, don't be afraid to be spontaneous. That's your chance to tell the world who you are. Taking risks is how you make it in this business daddeh." | Sexton P.S. LoveThe Sexcellence of Sexecution
6'4 - 269 lbs. | 10 years experience
|Hails From |
» Venice Beach, California
» July 29th 1988 (29)
|Fighting Style |
» Despite the flashy tights and flashy women, the Lovely One's in-ring style is anything but flashy. A true student of the game, Sexton Love has developed into a highly respected ring general, working an old school heel style. During a match, Sexton spends as much time focused on the women at ringside as he does on his opponent, and will frequently bail out of the ring to flex and pose in front of his female fans.
|Signature Moves |
» Sex Plex (Rolling German Suplex w/bridge)
» Piledriver
» Impale-Her DDT
» Massive Package (small package)
|Finisher |
» Sexecutor (Torture Rack Neckbreaker)
» Love Lock (Muta Lock)
|Theme |
»
|Gimmick |
» The Sexiest There Is, Sexiest There Was, and Sexiest There Ever Will Be...
Sexton P.S. (Purely Sex) Love is a sleazy, arrogant, womanizing heel with a seemingly endless stream of catchphrases. Sex sells, and nobody sells it better than Sexton Love. His main influences are Superstar Billy Graham, Macho Man Randy Savage, The Universal Hearthrob Austin Idol, and of course, Ravishing Rick Rude. Sexton Love is here to bring sexy BACK to American Wrestling Entertainment darlin', and become the new AWE World's Heavyweight Champion. He wants the title on his waist and the camera on his face daddeh, because whether you like it or not...SEX...SELLS!
|Face or Heel |
» HEEL
|Backstage Rep |
» Ask anyone in the wrestling business about Sexton Love, and they'll tell you the same thing: he lives his gimmick. His fans may be known as the "Sex Addicts," but in real life he is the one with the addiction. He goes out every night, in every town, and has established a network of devoted ring rats from coast to coast. "I'm the KING OF THE ROAD daddeh." His most important possession is his fanny pack, containing a Skittles-like cocktail of pain killers, Viagara, and natural male enhancement.
|Other |
» Face Claim: Michael P.S. Hayes |
49,038 | 1,324 | 11 | 904 | 2,988 | Collab with
After this, the main event would start and Joy, the lead backstage interviewer, was more than ecstatic. She was nervous. Whenever Caiden Winters took the floor, she couldn’t help but have build up anxiety. He was the type of guy that the people couldn’t help but want to win. Not because he was an underdog or anything, but because they knew, she knew, he was good at everything he does. The best. But time and time again, he is walked all over and doesn’t get what he deserves. A man that deserves the world, but gets little to nothing in return. In Joy’s opinion, and perhaps she’s biased because of her mentor, Caiden should have the World Title. No matter what though, she was a professional and would keep her personal opinions to herself unless warranted. At the end of the day, her passion and duty was to every wrestler, not just one. She would bring out the best in them all, even if it took her more than one promo, more than one interview, more than one conversation to do so.
This was her life.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome my guest at this time, CHAOS-” Pause for dramatic effect. “Clayton!” Her blue gaze glinted with elation and anticipation. Chance, as silent as he was, did give Joy subtle cues to show if he was into her performance or not. The image went from her face to Chaos Clayton’s, who was sweaty and obviously looked like he had one hell of a battle. While she congratulated him and asked her first question, she brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, “Your fight with Razorblade kept me on the edge of my seat. Congrats on your win tonight and tearing the floor up like you usually do! After watching that match, I can’t help but wonder if you might have underestimated your opponent. There were times I thought, wow, the underdog might beat Chaos. Do you agree?”
Duncan was indeed quite tired from the match, but he didn’t mind too much. In fact, he loved interviews with Joy. Duncan took every chance to transform into Clayton, and Joy always did her best to make everyone’s characters even better than one could do by themselves. It’s why she’s been at this for so long. His mask was up, so facial expressions couldn’t do much to convey his emotions. It was all in the eyes, body language, and talking.
He stared down, chuckling a little before looking to Joy. ”You corner a dog, Joy…”, the Anarchist began. In his head, Duncan’s mind was racing around, deciding on the next thing to say. He’d never mess with a tournament standings or go against Roddy or the writing team, but when it came to scripts? Fuck scripts. No fun! ”...and the dog bites. That kid’s got a helluva bite, but he’s got a long way to go before he’ll prove to me that he’s more than a dog. I wanna see how he can destroy.” Chaos Clayton continued, saying the last word with such glee only a maniac could understand. And in fact, that’s what Clayton was. A true tornado of discord and destruction, and Duncan cherished every moment he could wrestle and act as him. Another chuckle escaped his lips before he tapped the side of his head with his finger a couple of times. ”The mind decides how we act, but sometimes not even I will know how I’ll act. That’s why I win. You can’t plan against unpredictable.”
“But isn’t that now predictable for you?” With a raise of her eyebrow, Joy challenged her subject. “Being unpredictable, I mean. Wouldn’t you think, to a degree, having a strategy is necessary? Because who knows what the future has in store for us! The future itself is unpredictable. Chaos would not exist if there was no order.” Her words. that flowed out of her light pink lips naturally and inquisitively, made her think of her brother, who sadly was still in Japan. Everything he did had purpose and he caused an equal amount of destruction. Actually, he probably caused more. The argument here was: Does being unpredictable give you a competitive advantage? In theory, the potential benefits of unpredictability can exceed its cost, but to her, you could lose far more because you are not prepared. The oppose of unpredictable isn’t predictable. The opposite is strategic. How would Clayton be seen as anything but a chaotic fighter? How would his fans see him as a leader, who chooses the game to play and shapes how it’s played, when he goes out on a whim?
In chess, amateurs play for tricks, masters play for position. Does Chaos Clayton have what it takes to be one of the masters? This was his moment to shine and show Roddy that he was more than an uproar. That he wasn’t a happy accident. That he was a Star of American Wrestling Entertainment.
Duncan smiled behind the mask. Damn she’s good. Clayton quickly clapped his hands and pointed at Joy. ”That’s it! There, there it is!” He exclaimed excitedly. In fact, he even took the mic right out of Joy’s hand. ”The two don’t co-exist off of each other, like parasites to a host. They oppose each other.” He said, as if he had hit some sort of break through. ”This is why I’m here. Chaos doesn’t need order to occur. Chaos is freedom! Freedom to do what you like! Take what you want! I’m here to take that Title. I want it! Make no mistake, Joy. Oh no.” As Clayton’s energy grew, he stood up and talked directly to the camera, pacing back and forth as he stakes his claim. “My Age Of Anarchy is upon the AWE!” He announced, getting more excited and sounding more crazy, delusional and most of all, aggressive. Even beginning to shout!
”Anyone who’s against me, who will oppose me, who will try to stop me! They will know the definition of pain when I leave that ring. Strategize… that…” Clayton finished, his wild eyes staring at the camera just those few sweet seconds longer before dropping the mic to Joy’s feet and walking away, out of the camera’s view. However, Duncan took down the mask as soon as he knew he was safe and looked back at the interview scene, smiling.
Okay, Duncan. I’m impressed. The camera stood a second longer on the surprised interviewer, before Beatrix cued that it was commercial break. Breaking down her professional physique, Joy glanced away from the set and to the wrestler, “Way to drop the mic. Quite literally.” With a lighthearted giggle, she moved out the way so the film crew could breakdown everything and prepare for After Hours.
Duncan looked scared for a moment when Joy mentioned the mic. He knew how the team got when their equipment got broken. ”Oh shit… I didn’t break it, did I?” He asked with a genuine bit of worry on his face and in his voice.
Giving him a shrug, Joy strolled to his side and assured him, “If it is, they can take it out of my paycheck, how does that sound?” She teasingly stuck her tongue out, before gesturing for him to walk with her, “The main event is about to begin, I’m joining my sister by the screen. You’re welcomed to come too. I can even ask her to make room for you on the Party Bus. I’m sure Wade wouldn’t mind.”
Duncan chuckled, and not a Clayton chuckle either. A genuine, sane human being kind of chuckle. ”I might just sit on your side. Trust me, I love the guy, but I’m not risking taking what might be his seat with his bird.” Sometimes Duncan couldn’t help his British colloquials outside of the ring, especially when he said stuff like ‘bird’ for someone’s partner. ”But yeah, sure. I’ll come watch. Not a single wrestling fan ever misses the AWE main event. Not even the wrestlers themselves!” He said in a joking kind of way.
“Oh honey, those two are so dumb for each other. I doubt Wade will see you as a threat. This will be a good opportunity for Trinity to get another wrestler’s perspective, since she has a lot of work ahead of her before she joins the rest of the Divas.” Joy shook her head at the fact that Wade and Trinity were that kind of couple that made some people gag at how much love they had for each other. Then again, love wasn’t something Joy thought about, but she was happy her sister found someone to help her be the best her she can be.
And then, the fangirl squealed out of Joy, “I am so ready for this match. I really hope Caiden wins. Do you think Caiden wins? If you’ve read the script, pretend that you don’t know who wins. I don’t want to know. I’m so nervous.”
Duncan almost jumped when Joy made that switch. How she can go from being the cool-headed interviewer to an obsessed fan so easily? Ah, it didn’t matter. It was nice to see her get excited about it anyway. A first hand example of the real reason why himself and the rest of the locker room does this. He laughed and then mimicked zipping his mouth shut. ”You won’t hear a peep out of me.” He promised. | tear this up!"
189 lbs - 5' 9" | 5 Years of Experience
|Birth name |
» Duncan Middleton
|Hails From |
» London, United Kingdom
» June 15th, 1990 (27)
|Fighting Style |
» Chaos Clayton is a tornado of havoc in the ring. A brawler style mixed with high flying moves, Clayton wants to physically decimate his opponents and look good doing it. When striking, Clayton loves elbow smashes, clotheslines, punches and spinning kicks. However, momentum and adrenaline is when he really shines. The Arbiter of Anarchy loves to stay agile, dodging and waiting for opportunities before releasing his relentless assault. Clayton isn't so strong when it comes to grappling and prefers moves such as a Dragon Screw or a Frankensteiner. Something to escape the grapple. However, Clayton is relentless, and will stop at nothing to beat his opponents, even if it means bending the rules sometimes too.
|Signature Moves |
» Beautiful Disaster
» Spear
» Monkey Flip
» Corkscrew Elbow
|Finisher |
» Pop-Up Powerbomb
» Suicide Dive
|Theme |
» Flatlined
|Gimmick |
» Every good roster needs a rebellious agent of chaos, and Chaos Clayton is all about causing mayhem and havoc in the AWE. Clayton has a "doesn't give a damn!" attitude and starts fights for the hell of it. His character revels in the chaos he creates and also acts... pretty insane sometimes. However, he is not necessarily a bad guy. 'Chaos' Clayton will mostly act morally unless the situation calls for something more extreme or if the way of resolving a feud or drama is 'boring'. He'll run in on both bad guys and good guys to keep the fights going, sometimes both on the same show! His appeal to the crowd isn't necessarily that he is a good guy, but that he's unpredictable, and no one will know what Clayton is planning in his unhinged brain. One thing is for sure:
When Clayton shows up, Chaos always ensues.
Clayton's outfit starts with brown heavy duty boots, followed by crimson red cargo pants with a silver anarchy symbol printed on the left thigh. Above the waist, Clayton sports a slightly over-sized black vest with his slogan "Let's tear this up!" printed on the back in a font more suited to a death metal band that is also in crimson red. Upon his arms, Clayton wears compression arm sleeves. His right arm is the same colour as his prints and pants, and his left arm sleeve is a graffiti style Union Jack, representing the punk scene in his home country. Sometimes these will vary in colours or design prints, but one thing that will always stay on outside of the locker room is his signature black half mask snood that covers his nose, lower face and neck with the mouth of a skull printed on. His hair is always dyed in a colour, usually matching the brighter colour of his outfit.
|Face or Heel |
» Tweener
|Backstage Rep |
» Duncan is actually quite a friendly, amiable person outside of the stage. He loves talking about the trade with the fellow talent and the crew, and deeply appreciates what the crew does to make the show run smooth for the performers. Duncan always encourages the rest of the locker room. He loves being the shit-stirrer of the roster, and revels in leaning back and watching the chaos he causes unfold. He loves being crazy and finds switching into Chaos Clayton kind of cathartic sometimes, giving him the opportunity to let loose. However, Duncan adores the fans, and although sometimes they're not always on his side, Duncan prefers being the rebel than a pure face character. Duncan is known for being the first to volunteer for the next biggest and wildest show, forever searching for the next spectacle to amaze the fans. Ladder dive, table breaks, nothing's off limits for Duncan especially when he see's a new opportunity to test the limit of his mind and body at the same time.
|Other |
» FC- Josh Dun |
49,039 | 1,324 | 12 | 2,573 | 1,662 | Gethin Rhys
Turning on his heel, Gethin needed to find the king, the man, the boss, Roddy Quinn. The Welshman was trying to wrap his head around his boss’s decision. Drayden had been the top guy for years and he held the respect of all the boys in the locker room. From a booking stand point it would’ve made sense for the strap to be put on someone like Caiden Winters or even Zachary Wake. They were established guys in the AWE Universe, the fans knew and cared for them. Gethin Rhys hadn’t been on the scene that long. Sure he was a huge name in Japan and when he was signed there was a fair bit of fanfare but even still, he had yet to truly make his mark in the AWE but there it was in black and white on the locker room wall; he was going to be the next AWE Champion.
The early contract negotiations came out of nowhere really. Gethin was having a great run in AJBW over in Tokyo. He was the top gaijin wrestler in the company with his violent style matches and refusal to cut a promo in Japanese (even though he is fluent) he had developed quite the cult following. His stripped down, back to basics prize fighter character had connected with the audience on a different level and his choice of an 80’s style synth song as his entrance theme compared to every other generic rock song was unique enough to make him stand out amongst the crowd. Gethin Rhys was the American Psycho…except you know, he was Welsh. He wasn’t sure exactly who facilitated the deal or whom recommended him but one evening Gethin got the call from Roddy Quinn to ask about maybe defecting to AWE. He had a good thing going in AJBW but the money and the notoriety was in the states; it was an offer he couldn’t really refuse.
As he wandered backstage, Gethin passed by Kevin with a courteous nod. The writer was heading towards the women’s locker room. Kevin had been key to tweaking the “Brutal Artist” character for an American audience. The rules over here were very different to the ones over there, it was a different style, a different demographic and it was difficult to adjust. Of course there was Roger the Sound Guy working on something, God that guy was creepy. CBL for sure. Making his way to where Roddy had settled his office for the night, there was a cue a mile long.
”Fuck”
Hopefully, he’d be able to catch the big man soon. As time passed and wrestlers, stage crew et al had been in to the see the king, a slight tingle of nerves ran through the master of the headbutt’s body. He realised that he didn’t know exactly what he wanted to say to the man but before he could think of something, he was called in. Entering into Roddy Quinn’s office and seeing him sitting there was like watching the ruler on the Iron Throne about to kill Sean Bean or something, it was a weird feeling.
”Mr Quinn. Thanks for seeing me” | Daniel “DC” “Don’t Call Me Danny” “Danny” “Danny Church” Church
6’ - 184 lbs | 12
|Birth Name |
» Daniel Church
|Hails From |
» Sacramento, California
» October 9th, 1985 (31)
|Job at AWE |
» He does not work at AWE. However, he is often at their events and is friends with more than a few wrestlers and backstage employees. He is a wrestling journalist and posts stories as they come and go, and reviews the shows and matches. He reacts accordingly based on how he feels the company is performing, and has no qualms calling out a wrestler or wrestlers for having a shit match, cutting a shit promo, or calling out the powers that be for making their fucking look like goddamn geeks.
|Skills |
» Smooth talking
» Tech savvy
» Dadskills
» Radio host-esque silky smooth voice
» Good at ranting
|Reason for being here |
» When he was younger, in 2001, Daniel Church had a brilliant idea in his school computers class: he’d build a fucking website. Now, the first thing you had to do when building a website, was pick something you were passionate about… at the time, Danny Church was only really passionate about one thing: PROFESSIONAL WRESTLING. Even at the young age of fifteen, DC had a brilliant mind for coding and built a website that was grand, even for the times. It gained a following, and the forums on it exploded in popularity as the tape traders and more hardcore fans finally found a place to talk and get their opinions out there.
The Smark Remark, the website is known as, and it’s only grown since its original inception in mid-2001. Danny made friends with the right people, and after high school, he passed the day-to-day management of the website over to a team of administrators and moderators. The man himself began a focus on the content creation for the website. He hosted podcasts with wrestlers from all over the world, and he began to rate matches.
Every show he saw, either live or on a tape he bought, he rated the match. Over time, his ratings and opinions got a little controversial, with people arguing about whether he was right or wrong, but he there was one thing they agreed on: he was consistent. He also wrote reports on rumors that he heard, and posted opinions and frequently participated in conversations on the message boards.
Four years after graduating, when Danny was 22, his then girlfriend, Clarissa Whitaker, gave birth to his two beautiful children. Twins, a boy and a girl. Robert and Cynthia, Bobby and Cyn. His babies and his life — other than work. They are turning ten in January of next year, and attend an online school to make it easier on Daniel to travel around for his job. They haven’t seen their mother since they were two; as it turns out, their mother was… crazy, to say the least. After Daniel discovered her drug habits and realized she was a poison in his life, he cut her out and got full custody of his children.
Since then, the single dad life has been the life for him. Working and taking care of two rascals isn’t exactly the easiest lot in life, but… he makes it work. When he was called up by Walter Durrel, who proposed combining their two mediums a few years ago, DC jumped on the opportunity. Together now, they put out podcasts reviewing AWE mostly, as that’s Walter’s preferred company. In return, Danny Church offers the Smark Remark’s website as a new home for the Wrestling Journal. They make a surprisingly good team so far.
|Looks & Style |
» Decked out from head to toe in wrestling gear, Danny doesn’t give a FUCK about how people think of him in public. He’s a hardworking single father, get bent. He’ll sometimes match or contradict his children when they go to the shows — both of his kids are huge fans too.
|Personality Traits |
» Danny is brutal and quick to be critical. He doesn’t listen to the reasons for things sucking and just accepts that they suck. If a wrestler isn’t working at their full capacity because of injuries? Whatever, stop fucking working. Utilize your roster, people.
He’s fun to talk to, and is good at telling stories and ranting and making other people who agree with him happy. He often gets into long winded debates on his podcast with Walter, but as a person Danny honestly looks forward to it every night.
Deep down, he’s just a mark, dude. He loves wrestling, everything about it from the ground up is amazing, and he can’t get enough. The fact that he built something great out of his love for wrestling amazes him to this day, and the Smark Remark is his baby. He enjoys posting on the message boards to this day, and recording the weekly podcasts is something he lovingly looks forward to every day.
It’s his second baby, the thing he loves most right behind his children.
|Favorite wrestler |
» Caiden goddamn fucking Winters, fuck you Roddy for burying the best wrestler to ever grace this goddamn planet. And Retribution. Excited for him to come, which I'M SURE HE'LL DO EVENTUALLY ONCE RODERICK QUINN PULLS HIS HEAD OUT OF HIS FUCKING ASS. Gethin's a personal favorite too, at least he gets used properly by those idiots.
And fuck you Drayden, I bet you encouraged that shit, didn’t you? Gotta GO OVER EVERYONE. Asshole. And of course, my fucking kid loves you so I have all that stupid merchandise in my fucking HOUSE.
Trinity’s cool too.
And Morgana.
What? I can’t hate the kids’s favorites, I’d be an asshole.
Except for Drayden. Fuck you. And fuck your stupid fat head wall stickers, now you’re stuck to the goddamn wall behind my FUCKING COUCH.
|Rep at AWE |
» Honestly, most people at the AWE don’t really like him. Daniel is loud, brash, and he doesn’t care about calling them out if they do something stupid. If you botch one goddamn move you better believe DC will roast the fuck out of you. You lose a match looking like a geek and hate it? Too goddamn bad, Danny Church knows full well you’re a NERD and you’ll never live it down.
But, he’s undeniably good at the job, and they actually take his ratings seriously. The few wrestlers that Danny fanboys about are quite fond of him, and he does a good podcast that wrestlers try to take advantage of. It can just be hard to deal with someone that’s going to call out every little mistake you make, even when it’s more blamed on the booking team than yourself.
He also has a tendency to post rumors about who’s going to win or lose a match, and rarely checks the validity of his source. Unlike his partner, Walter, Daniel Church is not a journalist. He’s angry millennial who thinks Roderick Quinn is ruining his goddamn favorite thing by blowing Drayden and giving him everything he asks for.
This doesn’t stop every member of the locker room from obsessively checking his reviews, though. Even Roddy does it.
|Other |
» 16a064
» Jensen Ackles. |
49,040 | 1,324 | 13 | 1,435 | 3,654 | Sydney & Morgana VS. Tsunami & Rosado
Featuring: Barbie, Marcus, Kane, and Wade
Collab with:
After cutting her promo, Barbie slid through the ropes and gracefully hopped down from the apron. The ominous wind-chime-like notes of the intro to her power rock theme echoed through the arena. The chorus of boos surrounding her seemed to match the mood of the song; that was more than coincidental. Despite the open heat thrown at her, Barbie sauntered up the ramp towards backstage with the widest of smiles. She paused for a moment and cupped her right hand to her ear, as if they weren’t singing loud enough for her.
“What’s that, Dolls?” the blonde asked, referring to her anti-fans in her usual manner. She turned around and walked backwards up the ramp, holding her hands out in front of her and pulling her fingers towards herself and then away. and then back towards herself again - beckoning them to get louder. The crowd took the cue and booed loud enough to reach the rafters.
“Oh, you haven’t had enough of me, huh?’ Barbie taunted as the cameras panned in to get a better view of her smug grin. “Well, okay then,” she said and did a mock curtsy before the people and then pranced back down the aisle, towards the ring.
Sitting at the center of the desk, where he always did, Wade watched as the AWE Women’s Champion turned around and headed back toward the ring. “I guess… she’s not done yet? Must have a few more… choice words for the fans that are here tonight.” He commented, digging his fingers into the bag of Gummy Octopus in front of him, stuffing one into his mouth. The only way to stop from getting too hype, was to eat candy.
The Plastic Queen walked along the edge of the ring and blew a kiss towards the fans - wrestling fans, not necessarily her fans - on the right. Making her way to the announcer’s desk, Barbie ran a single index finger along the surface, like she was inspecting it for dust. She brought her hand up to get a better look, rubbed her thumb and index finger together, and then shrugged. The reigning diva hopped up onto the desk and planted her cheerleader-esque-skirted bottom right between Wade and Marcus.
“Mind if I join you boys?” Barbie asked, but didn’t wait for any response. Their opinions didn’t matter, a Queen needs no permissions to do as she pleases. She even went so far as to snatch a sugary sea creature from the baggie in front of Wade and took a slow, verging on lewd, bite of it. Chewing on the treat, Barbie turned to MarkyMark Granger and plucked the headset right off of his head.
“Thanks,” she said sarcastically and adjusted the headset so that it wouldn’t displace the small, glittery tiara that Tay had nestled in her blonde pile of curls earlier that day. Mark openly gawked at the entire display, obviously enamored by the sex appeal rolling off of her in waves. “Who do you think you are, looking at me like that? Have you seen my boyfriend?” she asked, catching him staring, and rolled her eyes dramatically.
Being the one with the faster quip, Kane Zimmerman, who leaned back in his chair like he had no care in the world, pulled his shades up and gazed upon the sexually attractive, yet gaudy, blonde. A smirk fell on his face before he chuckled, “Hey, B. If you don’t want to be looked at, maybe you should give up your title like your man was forced to do.” While bringing his chair down, he dug into his pant’s pocket and took out a container of orange tic tacs, Barbie scoffed, not even giving such a statement the time of day. “I’m mildly jealous you chose to sit there, instead of here.” He gestured toward the section between him and Wade and then poured the candy into his mouth. What a tease.
“Maybe if you knew your place, I would have, Kandy Kane.”
“Alright folks, it’s showwwtimmeee. We are starting off the night right with match number one being a women’s tag match. Let’s see who we’ve got coming in tonight, right here on AWE Shock N’ Awe” Marcus Granger announced just moments before the first theme song began.
Knowing that she was the first person up, Tsunami was standing outside the main entrance to the ring. She was looking down, shaking her arms to get looser. The sweet, sweet guitar riff had blared and it was time for Tsunami’s entrance. Her name was splayed all over the titantron as the wrestler ran outside, an arm raised as she sped down the ramp toward the ring. The crowd cheered for her, mostly because of her status as a face. Most people loved her. It was a great feeling to be so loved and well received by her fans.
As she got to the bottom of the ramp, she slowed down and gave a few fans high fives, before going to the other side and giving a few lucky fans the same treatment as well. After doing so, Tsunami made her way to the ring, strutting her stuff up until she got to the ropes. Climbing on the very edge of the canvas, she put her weight on the ropes and turned around, raising her arms, fingers pointed up toward the sky.
The crowd surged with energy. Utilizing that, Tsunami entered the ring and started to shuffle around the edges to keep her muscles warm. This was going to be a rough match and she was going to have to give 110% to keep up with the people she’d be facing.
When that first metal riff hit, and the lights turned green, and the titantron started to play Sydney’s video, the reaction was mixed, both in reception and volume. Sydney was booed because she was a heel, cheered by a few because she did good work in the ring, but didn’t get as loud a reaction as the faces or Barbie, who even without her reputation as a backstage opportunist, still has the mic skills to get any crowd to boo their lungs out. Sydney wished she had that kind of power or presence, but she was no talker. She could give a decent intimidating promo, but like Rosado, she communicated best in the ring without words, just selling the story with her face, her actions, and her body.
Sydney marched out from behind the partition and up the ramp briskly and with purpose. On this occasion, she was wearing desert camo ring gear, a matching military cap, and big black punky boots with as many buckles and zips as could fit onto one pair of boots.
When she reached the ring, she leapt from the floor to the edge of the canvas in a single bound. Who needs steps? She then took off her cap and dumped it unceremoniously on the floor before stepping into the ring, and pacing back and forth, all the time eyeing up Tsunami, as if she was a tiger, and the plucky face had just wandered into her enclosure.
Following the short reprieve as the crowd continued its fading reception, the lights dimmed near to a blackout; this was no power failure, no no, and the excitement was already palpable. It only increased as there came a sound almost like a fancy motor revving up, a vehicle accelerating down a straight road. The choral voices sung over a building beat: EYES FLICKER, HEART BEATS QUICKER INSIDE lyrics mirroring the mood of the crowd whenever a match with this particular wrestler took to the ring...and the skies. The beat continues to build and the lyrics along with it. ’BEFORE WE BEGIN TO SAY GOODBYE...LET’S START MAKING UP… FOR LOST TIME!
As the beat hits hard with its explosive note, the lights flash on, yellow strobes flicker to the beat, and the eruption of cheers is enough to drown out the pumping, thumping, electro track. Rosado wastes little time in appealing to those in attendance, coming from backstage with a front handspring, her flourish being a thrust thumbs up with a smile so wide it could count as a toothpaste commercial. Rosado had a way of working the crowd for different reasons; while some might look to sex appeal or whatever counted for aesthetics - both the wrong things to focus on if Rosado were to have an opinion - Rosado just had an energy and charisma about her that made her incredibly easy to love. Nothing about her was eye catching, from her expressive, though standard and unprettied, face to her attire which looked like something she would wear to the gym: a black sleeveless top, red shorts that weren’t tight on the hips to allow freedom of movement, and shoes. She looked like she wandered in off the street, but the way she walked down the ramp, slapping hands, throwing up hand signs of positivity, and always, always smiling...she belonged here.
Rosado didn’t take the stairs to the apron. She leapt up from the ground and used that momentum to leap again, this time landing on the top rope, balancing atop it just long enough for her music to crescendo again. Rosado bobs her head, looking first to the crowd and then to those already assembled in the ring. Before the music ends, Rosado springs off the rope, landing in a somersault and coming up center of the ring to the last gasps of cheers and applause; the match hadn’t even started and already Rosado was showcasing her energy.
With her music fading, Rosado practically leapt to her corner to give her partner, Tsunami, a pat on the back and an earnest thumbs up. Someone had to be confident, and fortunately Rosado had plenty to spare.
The girls on the ring were soon forgotten the moment the crowd heard the earsplitting screech and the lights began to strobe black and white. The titantron matched in timing for the waves of light and revealed intense close ups of the goth styled Star that was about to grace the crowd with her presence. From her eyes to her lips to a black crossed choker necklace around her neck… anyone who had a goth fetish would surely have wet dreams tonight. And every night, really. The white lights stopped flashing and shifted to red on the drum beat, swiftly panning to reveal the bewitching wrestler known as Morgana. Since her aesthetic was something the crowd always looked forward to, even if some didn’t want to admit it because she was a prevailing heel and unfortunately the former, not current, Sovereign of the Women’s Championship Title, she made sure there was something new at every show.
Before Barbie, she was everyone’s eye candy that they loved to hate. Before Barbie, it was her sensual curves and dynamite sex appeal that all the people cared about. Before Barbie, the Witch was the relevant force, not the stupid, plastic, ooooooh shiny, sparkle bitch, who fucked her way to the top.
Welcome to the entertainment business, world!
Morgana’s makeup was on point, as per usual, thanks to her own skills and Tay’s extra eyes. Her lips were adorned with plum lipstick, her eyes, which were a sharp, icey blue, vibrantly popped due to the dark and smoky eyeshadow and eyeliner to accentuate her provocative expressions. For those who took the time to examine her face, they could see shades of red. Her long, light pink hair was teezed to give her appearance volume, but also the message: this bitch is crazy. Which honestly wasn’t a hairstyle she did often. Her black jeaned shorts hardly had any length and did reveal some flesh, her stomach resembled that of a toned belly dancer, and her tall legs had delicate nylon that reached to her mid thigh (outfit).
There was no fear written on her face, only confidence. Morgana would relish in this moment and every moment she had the spotlight. All eyes would be on her, after all. When the guitar rift started, she strutted down the ramp, that ‘caught on fire’ behind her. Timed well and following her, as if every step she took caused the floor to burn. Letting her body do the talking, her right hand rested on her slender neck and trailed down it to give her fans what they wanted. Her. With her head held up high, her piercing gaze scanned the audience, who were mutually in an uproar. Yelling her name. Telling her to give them hell! Some even throwing shade about her and her feud with Barbie. This only made her… want more. She ate up everything they threw at her. The good, the bad, and the downright ugly.
Keep it comin’ children.
Near the bottom of the ramp, she looked at someone randomly, puckered her lips into a kiss, and winked at them. She didn’t need to sleep her way to the throne to be enticing. Smoothly, she slithered her way to the ring, bent over to slip under a rope, purposely sticking out her voluptuous bottom, and twirled around so she was facing her people again. Lifting her hands up in the air. she beckoned them to get louder. And they did. Her recognizable smirk appeared on her flawless face and she soon after joined her partner, but rather than prowl around Tsunami and Rosado, her attention wasn’t on anyone in the ring.
No. She was looking at the commentator table, where Barbie, who had an irritating, faux smile on, was sitting. God, she hated her.
Barbie waggled her fingers in a mocking wave to the former AWE Women’s Champion. Her sparkling white smile was as fake as the nacho cheese they were serving to the attendees in the stands.
“And what a match this is bound to be. We have Tsunami and Rosado versus Sydney Ellis and Morgana. Excellent, wonderful! You can feel the energy in the crowds, this place is vibrating right now. I can’t tell what’s louder, the cheers or the boos. We will have to see which team reigns supreme.” Marcus chimed in before the start of the match.
“Hah!” Barbie remarked with a light knee slap. “Reigns supreme? We’ve got that wannabe Japanese girl, GI Jane, the freaky mute, and last and certainly least, the has-been Women’s Champion. Supreme isn’t really what comes to my mind here. This just a bunch of girls playing in the sandbox, building sand castles and wishing they were Queen.”
That fuckin’ bitch.
As soon as the bell rung, Sydney stopped circling Tsunami and immediately rushed her, catching her in a grapple and forcing her back towards the corner, making use of her strength and power, which trumped Tsunami’s. Tsunami knew that she was in trouble as soon as she hit the turnbuckle. Sydney was a lot stronger than she was, so clinching up was going to be a nightmare. Tsunami threw some knees at Sydney’s midsection, causing Sydney to loosen her grip. The powerhouse responded with a swift headbutt, before grabbing her opponent and tossing her from the corner to the middle of the ring like a ragdoll. The crowd popped, booing the heel for her brutal treatment of a beloved face. Sydney smirked and slowly advanced upon Tsunami, who was slowly getting to her knees.
Sydney grabbed her head with both hands and pulled her up. Tsunami subsequently countered with a footstomp, freeing herself from Sydney’s grasp as she had the upper hand. She fired with a roundhouse kick to the midsection, pulling it early enough so that it wouldn’t hit Sydney’s gut at full force. Then came an uppercut as Sydney keeled over, aiming for the very edge of her cheek bone.
Tsunami then backed off and got some energy from the crowd, she dashed toward the ropes, letting herself bounce off the rope and converting the momentum she had received into a dropkick, before rolling backwards into a standing position where she thought about what to do to Sydney, who was still lying from the dropkick.
The much smaller woman had a good idea, and started off with an elbow drop, preceded by plenty of theatrics. She then kicked Sydney’s arm. After feeling the crowd cheer, Tsunami pulled Sydney up, grabbing her arms and standing her up so she could hit one of her favorite moves. Closing the distance between them, Tsunami clinched and clasped her arms behind Sydney’s back, before hopping slightly so that she could get the momentum she needed to pull off the belly-to-belly suplex.
Now that Sydney was once again on the floor, she was going for the pin. Amanda didn’t expect Dawn to give up so soon.
“It looks like we have Tsunami closing in for a pin. This early, can it happen?”
Tsunami pulled the leg and listened to the referee, and the crowd count. “1...2…” and then followed the kickout.
“Ohhh, not yet, Tsu. Not yet. The fans are not liking that, it’s clear that they are rooting for their girl over Sydney. What will she do next?”
“Get Jackhammered by Sydney Ellis, that’s what. Watch. This is damned child’s play, Mark.” Kane chuckled to himself. It was obvious which side he was rooting for.
Tsunami looked devastated that she couldn’t get the pin, but she knew that it wasn’t going to happen so soon. She got up, wondering what she was going to do next. Was it time? Was it time to hit the flying triangle?
Tsunami turned to the crowd and raised her arms to get them hyped up. The crowd, the announcers, the referee, and Sydney all knew what was coming next. Tsunami sprinted to the ropes, taking the momentum she would receive from bouncing off, and utilizing it once again to pull off the flying triangle. Once she was close enough she hopped up as high as she could with her legs out. Targeting the shoulders, she wrapped them around and swung herself so that she could get Sydney on the ground. Wrapping her legs around her neck in a triangle, she pretended to squeeze the living lights out of the other wrestler and get her to tap or pass out.
Sydney, however, now that she was being grappled on the floor, was in her element. She quickly overpowered the smaller woman, and put her in a very real looking Kimura lock, before using her free hand to repeatedly deliver stiff blows to Tsunami’s face. Though these were pulled, and the force went across the face instead of into it, they still made legitimate contact. Dawn had already bought Amanda flowers as an apology gesture.
Tsunami’s offence had crumbled as she now lay in a heap on the floor, covering her face. Sydney got to her feet, pulled Tsunami back up, and then delivered a BFT to her, sending her stumbling back into the ropes, on Sydney’s side. Just in case, Sydney pulled her back into the center of the ring to avoid a possible tag, and put Tsunami’s arm over her shoulder, setting her up for the Jackhammer.
Sydney never lost a match on free TV with this move. Hitting it meant game over, so the mere act of setting it up earned her enough heat that she was now met with a cascade of boos, which turned to cheers, when, before she could lift Tsunami up, the plucky face pushed her away. This reversal of fortune was short lived, as Sydney quickly felled her again with a discus clothesline, before making a cover.
“And another attempt at a pin, this time Sydney on top.”
“Yeah, she is.”
1...2...Tsunami kicked out just before the three count. Sydney got back up to her feet and began stamping on the prone wrestler’s head as the booes once again began hailing down. Sydney smiled up at the crowd, before picking Tsunami up like she weighed nothing at all and delivered a powerslam to her, she then took in a second to strut around with her arms open and flexed, laughing after brutalising the crowd’s beloved face.
“Ohhh, this is just hard to watch. Absolutely brutal. Sydney Ellis is hammering on Tsunami. She may have to make a tag soon, this could be the end.”
This was the perfect time to really throw a wrench in things. Barbie Summers seized the opportunity, being the opportunist that she was. “Hey, Morticia.” the reigning champion addressed her well-known foe with a mocking nickname.
“Did you get lost on your way to the nearest freak show? This is professional wrestling, honey. Are you lost?” Barbie teased the dark beauty.
Morgana’s eye twitched at Barbie’s vexatious voice. Tightening her grip on the rope, she visibly grimaced and the camera zoomed in on the pink-haired wrestler’s face, as she grinded her teeth together in undeniable aggravation.
Keep calm. Stay collected.
Lying on the floor, taking deep breaths as Tsunami had just received a rather hard powerslam. She was a little winded from the move, but Sydney was doing a good job letting her recover while she did some theatrics. Then she determined that it was Rosado time. Rolling around, she crawled to Rosado with her arm reached. She could sense that Sydney had figured out what Tsunami was going to do and was going to get to her. But, before she could do anything, Tsunami had posted up with an arm and used it to propel herself forward and tag Rosado in. After doing so, Tsunami rolled out of the canvas so that she could get resituated outside of the ropes.
Why was there so much talking? Was this a match or some stupid teendrama? Everyone talked too much, especially in this match, and it was only serving to do one thing: annoy the ever loving shit out of Rosado. The crowd was cheering as Rosado hopped the ropes to enter the ring, moving with purpose and speed towards Sydney and leaping towards her like a pouncing simian. Rosado latched onto the taller woman and began to deliver quick punches to the head; Rosado’s speed was not enough compensation to knock down Sydney with just a splash, so after delivering her standing punches she leapt off Sydney, landing on her feet like a cat, and charged forward again to continue up the momentum.
Never give them an inch, they’ll take a mile. Words she heard in her head over and over again. Sage advice, almost, and Rosado was certainly following it to a T. A leaping strike. Overbearing offense, what it lacked in strength, it made up for in swiftness and repeated offense. It was like a flurry of slaps, punches, and unorthodox delivery methods for each. Let the catty ones talk talk talk. It made this whole affair easier for one party. With Sydney feeling the brunt of Rosado’s attacks, Rosado used the middle rope to give a kick to Sydney’s midsection, effectively capping her initial flurry of blows. Even Rosado had to take a moment to catch her breath now, but the statement had certainly been made.
“What’s with all the black, anyway? Did the witches kick you out of their coven? No, that’s not it, it’s because you’re in mourning, right? … because of your loss of this -” Barbie gestured to the Championship Belt worn around her waist. Barbie had the sorceress’ attention now. Excellent. “Or mayyybe, it’s just because you’ll never be anything but a mere shadow of your father. What’s it like, little goth, having to constantly live in the shadows of people that are so much better than you?”
Oh, fuck this! Sydney didn’t need her help. Morgana had more important matters to attend to. One being putting this bimbo slut in her place. If there was something that separated ‘the prep and the goth’ it was Morgana put years of blood, sweat, and tears to get where she was today, while Barbie… well.
Jumping down, with only the audience to notice her, but not her partner, Morgana hissed at the blonde that sat her fat ass on the announcer table, “I actually like when you spread filthy lies about me. It means you’re spreading more than just your legs.” Her lips curved into a smirk. Taking a step closer, locking her prominent gaze with her rival, Morgana nonchalantly stretched her arms and mocked back, “Must be nice, though. Thinking you’re something other than trash. Cute, even.” Her notorious kittenish giggle escaped her lips.
Sydney crawls to the ropes, only to find that her tag team partner was not there, but was instead at the announcer table, facing down Barbie. "Hey!” She yelled, slapping the canvas multiple times loudly. "HEEEEEY!”
Again with the stupid talking! Rosado rolled her eyes and held up her right hand and made a mocking hand gesture of a mouth flapping as she pointed at Sydney and the bickering broads down near the table. Their mistake. Rosado’s gain. As Sydney was calling for help, Rosado grabbed a leg and pulled her back to the center of the ring where some stomps were delivered just as a statement, like a red mark through a test, highlighting the mistakes made. Being unable to knock Sydney down earlier, Rosado took the opportunity to deliver mounted strikes to the head before relenting.
Rosado pulled back a moment, long enough for Sydney to rise, which was just long enough for Rosado to admire her handiwork. The girl looked out of it, like she didn’t know what was going on. And Rosado just smiled.
Sydney suddenly shakes her head, quickly snapping out of her post-beatdown trance, before delivering a Rolling Wheel Kick to Rosado’s head, and then flipping back to her feet rather impressively. Sydney was back in the game!
Rosado gave Sydney an inch...now she had to make sure a mile wasn’t taken. Rosado was shaken, wobbly, taking a step back, but maintained the wherewithal and presence of mind not to let this mark the end of the match or her time in the ring. The spot monkey darted into action, meeting the delivered wheel kick with a leap up, a turn, and a kick to the head of Sydney in true enziguri fashion. Rosado landed on her chest, rolled through, and was back on her feet, her smile seeming less whimsical and more sinister with each breath she took.
Sydney recoils, wobbling and drooping, looking like she’s close to falling over, but recovers, and hit another Rolling Wheel kick, connecting firmly with her opponent’s head. This time, she doesn’t flip back, but slowly, and shakily climbs back to her feet.
“Lies? Oh, darkling, these are factual observations. You’re right though, I do love using my legs to get what I want. Just like I did when I had you beggin’ for mercy in a Legally Blonde. Don’t you remember? You remember, right?” Barbie continued to antagonize the witchy wrestler. She was, of course, referencing the infamous submission that put Morgana out of the title, and Barbie into it, over 100 days ago. Barbie crossed her legs daintily and grinned wide with pride, curling a blonde lock of hair around her finger. If she had bubble gum, she would snap a bubble right about now.
Seething with anger, the beast in Morgana was begging to rip out of her and gauge Barbie’s eyes to shreds, but rather than jump at her irrationally, she gave a condescending sneer. Her nostrils flared, her eyes flashed and closed into slits, her hands balled into fists, and with her deadly demeanor, she let out a loud, “HA!” If her eyes were a weapon, the daggers residing within them were aimed right at Barbie’s head, waiting to slash at her delicate face. “Why don’t you put your money where your mouth is? You may hold the title, but you hide behind the throne. All you do is talk, Barbie Summers.” Morgana inched closer like a predator approaching her prey. Her air of confidence never leaving her. “Without Drayden, you are nothing. You’re only worth what people would pay for you; and that’s not your skills as a wrestler, or even your pretty little face.”
Breaching into Barbie’s space, but still not making any contact, the darkly clad woman gingerly traced her finger down her own chest, “All you have to offer is your body. Oh, and your boyfriend’s talent. The moment you do decide to come out and play, I’ll be waiting, and baby...” Morgana leaned forward. Her breath tickling Barbie’s ear, as she whispered, “I won’t be as forgiving.”
Rosado reels from the kick, her body shook and head stinging. She uses the ropes to stay upright while her eyes narrow towards Sydney. If one wasn’t enough to down the bitch, then here was round two. Another rush forward, another jump, another enziguri to Sydney’s head, with an impact loud enough to carry to the top seats. Again, Rosado landed on her chest, but she vaulted up and continued her assault, a follow through. She was like a dervish, but she was still feeling the effects of twice taking a boot to the head. Her slaps were connecting, her punches were finding the mark, but it was like David and Goliath and David’s sling only had pebbles.
It called for something drastic and flashy, otherwise known as the Rosado Method. After giving another kick to the midsection that didn’t topple the beast, Rosado pulled back and vaulted her way to the top of the turnbuckle, taking only a moment to point to the crowd - this one was for them. Turning on a dime to face the ring, Rosado didn’t hesitate. This monkey was about to fly.
Sydney sees Rosado leap from the top rope, but the powerhouse is ready for the little monkey, and catches her in a fireman’s carry. With a roar, she heaves, and lifts Rosado up into a Military Press, which she hold for a few seconds before dropping Rosado and letting her slam into the canvas. Sparing a few seconds to grin at the heavily booing crowd, she then grabs the back of Rosado’s shirt and lifts her to her feet with just one hand, before swiftly throwing a muscular arm around her throat and locking the Tropical Tamarin in a Standing Chokehold, right in the center of the ring!
“Well, that’s game! We’ve seen that move be locked in time and time again, and there’s almost no way out of it. I guess Sydney’s going to win this match… despite the numbers game.”
Sydney grins, and starts to shake the life out of Rosado, in addition to keeping the move tightly cinched in.
She could get out of this. She knew she could. She was a fighter. And Sydney was shaking a bit...too…
Using the momentum and size difference, Rosado struggled free by following-through and flipping over Sydney’s head, landing with shaking, wobbly feet. Her offense was slowing. Time for the salvo. A kick to the right rib, a kick to the left, a boot to the knee. Her kicks were what she had now. One two. One two. One two. Kick kick. Never give an inch. They were both tired, but Rosado had one more trick up her sleeve. She backed off, retreated back to the top of the turnbuckle, this time taking no moment to appeal to the crowd. Sydney was reeling...this was the moment. The do or die.
Rosado leapt into a forward flip and as she was coming down she grabbed Sydney by the head and dragged her down to the mat by sheer force of gravity and will alone, driving her opponent down. The shooting star DDT hit its mark, and Rosado made sure to go for the cover now that she had toppled the four inch taller giant. One. Two. Three.
“Hmm Hmm Hmm” Barbie held a laugh in her chest haughtily. “Speaking of being all talk…”
The bell sounded and the electro beat of Kuaga (Lost Time) blares to a supportive crowd and a beaming pair of victors.
“Perhaps you should have been paying attention to the match you just lost, Doll.”
Sydney, by this point, had rolled out of the ring, and was supporting herself on the side of the apron, panting heavily, and absolutely livid. She turned to the announcer table, and started to briskly stomp towards Morgana, her so-called tag team partner, who had left her high and dry to fight two opponents. Sydney was not going to take this betrayal lying down, and unbeknownst to Morgana, Fury itself was marching towards her back.
The first the gothic wrestler would know of Sydney’s presence would be a pair of hands grabbing her hair and slamming her face into the announcer table. When she turned to look, she’d see Sydney there, absolutely seething. "Thanks for the help back there, partner!” she shouts in Morgana’s face before proceeding to throw stiff blow after stiff blow into her partner’s face, beating her down until she was floored, dazed and clutching her face.
“Oh, come now. Sometimes you can’t win every battle in the war, no one likes a sore loser, GI Jane.” Barbie quipped, owning her character, never losing the zest that kept the flames of the crowd’s heat for her burning bright.
The military girl, not taking kindly to that remark, then walks over to stare down Barbie for a few tense seconds, before ripping her headset off roughly. She looks down at it, turning it and examining it, amused, before throwing it back in Barbie’s face and marching off, back towards the entrance ramp. The message was clear; ‘You’re all talk and no fight, and that’s funny to me.’
Cameras panned in to get a closer look at Barbie as she adjusted her tiara. After smoothing her hair, she hopped down from the announcer table and stared after the heel with murder in her eyes, her fists balled up tight at her sides.
“What an exciting match we’ve had tonight. It looks like the feud between Morgana and Barbie Summers isn’t dying down in the slightest. With Sydney in on the fight now, things are about to get verrryy heated in the AWE Women’s Division. I don’t know about you guys, but I can’t wait to see what these ladies have in store for us in the weeks to come.” Marcus said in closing, his excitement over the turn of events very evident in his words and facial expressions.
“You can say that again. Let the fire never die out. I’m too into it.” Kane, of course, had to add his last two cents. Hot babes. Hot fights. Hot drama. HOT. | I see you!
The best things in life are dangerous, like me.
5' ¾", 106 lbs - 5'8", 135 lbs
2 years Developmental, will debut soon with her husband
3 Years at AWE, 2 years at Developmental. 5 years total.
|Birth Name |
» Alice Jane Slayer (Kennedy)
» Ariel Michelle Slayer (Flanagan)
|Hails From |
» Atlanta, GA
» April 17 (26)
» October 22 (23)
|Backstage Rep |
» You got all these sweethearts dressed as bitches, guess what? Ari is a fucking bitch on and off the ring. She does not like you. It takes her a LONG time to accept you into her world because your flaws are blaring red and she fucking hates it. Some people do not get the concept of personal space. If she's doing her own thing, don't interrupt her. She enjoys dark humor, other people's drama, and crude people. Constantly observing her surroundings, she will size you up before you approach her. Ruthless. Entitled. & Impatient. She was never fond of dealing with people, which is honestly her biggest weakness on the ring. Charisma, that is. It isn't something that comes naturally to her like it does for her little sister.
As flawed as Ari is, those she does let in, like her husband, Michael Flanagan, know that she does mean well, but due to personal experiences, her built mechanism of verbally lashing out at people to protect her own, has gotten to a point where she can't really break it down over night. Ari is a tough cookie and audaciously bold. A risk taker, through and through. A primadonna is an understatement of her personality and Ari refuses to be considered less than. She aims to be in the big leagues, even if it means she might break a few bones...
You see, she and Michael were already dating prior to their debut at AWE, which was near the same time. It wasn't hard for him to gain attraction because even if he leans more on the timid side when he's out of character, he's a phenomenal heel and it shined through since day 1. Ari, however, spent her first two years figuring out her image. She was simply a blank canvas, a doll of a woman, and a temperamental wrestler, who fought well enough to get her to the mid card but required A LOT of polishing, as she tried her downright best to 'find herself' in the ring.
A year ago, Michael and her got married, and for a year, the writers have been pushing her more toward his storyline to enhance his biker boy look and guess what? It's working. People are starting to see the character behind the bitch. While Ajax is the tail gunner of his motorcycle gang, Fallen Angels, she is his queen. The Bonnie to his Clyde, who knows her way around her gun, or in this case the ring, and isn't afraid to use that to her advantage. She's a tough-talking, quick-shooting criminal and is growing to be a machine gun-blazing woman who you better not underestimate. Whenever she's threatened, she doesn't even flinch, she jumps right in and marks her territory. Fearless and it's all thanks to the writers pushing her more in the direction of the rebel girl archetype because it's something Ariel can actually relate to.
Fun fact: She isn't fond of motorcycles, but for love, she'll get on one.
» Amore hasn't debuted yet, but her face is known backstage because of her sister. The young, energetic valet aspires to be as influential as Jezebel (FC: Jessa Hinton), who was the Faceless' on-screen eye candy and eventual wife. Jezebel may have made the Faceless seem more humane, but Amore? She wants to do more than be an accessory for her love. Revolutionize the role of valets all over! At the root of it all, Alice is a business woman, who doesn't just want to 'accompany' her husband when she's on the ring with him. She wants to get heavily involved in the action inside, outside, within the audience-- ANYWHERE. A dreamer, the doll aims to earn the loudest pops of the night. Her beloved Benjamin tells her she has a niche and that is her charisma. Her stage presence. When Amore is in the spotlight, there is no doubt people will be starstruck.
Sneaky, cunning, and without hesitation, Amore will do absolutely anything for Mordecai to heighten his chances of winning. It helps that she has one sexy act that no one can top. Rated R, sexy-goodness. She acts like a child, but moves her body like a woman. Her influence is undeniable and even if wrestling isn't her top skill (it's singing and acting), she will go down in history!
As for backstage? A lovable, naive, playful and misleading young adult. Careless and foolish. Accidental prone when she isn't performing. Alice doesn't want to grow up, so she'll act far younger than she is. Oh, and she's scary possessive over her husband.
|Other |
» FCs: Kerli Kõiv & Jana
» 721728 & 324C83
|Fighting Style |
» Ari keeps you on your toes, you never know what to expect and has a passion for power. Known for her agility, high stunts, and her attitude, Ari, from the get go, set her sight on cleaning up the Divas division, showing that girls were more than accessories and tools. Even her sister, who does strut her body like it's nobody's business, isn't just that. A body. Amore is a character, whose insanity and giggles will be what the people remember. Psychotic little girl trapped in a woman's form.
Meanwhile, Ari has commitment to excellence and wants to be recognized as a professional wrestler, with Ajax by her side. Her goal: to be one of the most vicious Divas of her era. She doesn't even have to be one of the stars, she just wants to be scary. Although she isn't there yet, she will continue to work her ass off. Her current success is all thanks to her athleticism, hotheaded personality, impressive arsenal of offensive maneuvers, and her husband's biker persona.
Ari has countless ways of finishing her opponents and she will not give into status quo. A true queen of the rebels.
|Signature Moves |
» Highside (Diving Hurricanrana)
» Ari Bomb (Lita Bomb)
» Eating Asphalt (Swanton Bomb)
» Helmet Head (Hardiac Arrest)
|Finisher |
» Boneyard Moonsault (Moonsault)
» New Prime (Widow's Peak)
|Theme |
» Whatever she had before, doesn't matter. Now she has Superhuman to match Ajax.
|Gimmick |
» As said earlier in backstage rep, Ari is Ax's Bonnie to his Clyde. His ride or die. They have a fiery dynamic and shower each other with attention. They are motivated by chasing the danger, excitement, and action of wrestling. He's the gun, she's the trigger. If Ari isn't happy, Ajax is pissed. He might be the King of the Hill but without his queen, the high of living it dangerous 24/7 isn't as addicting. They're into each other in a visceral and physical way. There is a sense of co-dependency and downright bat-shit insanity between these two. Ariel even went out of her way to get 'His' tattoo on her lower back, to match Michael's "Hers" tattoo on his arm, to add to their act (when he wraps his arm around her, the audience would know - she belongs to him). A psychotic and possessive love story where their need for one another is absolutely dangerous for anyone, including each other.
Soon enough, the audience will learn crazy runs in the Slayer family because when Amore makes her debut, they'll see that the blonde is light years ahead in the insanity department.
As for fashion sense? Ari is a daredevil biker chick. Leather jacket with the Fallen Angels symbol, bustiers to showcase her stomach and her back (especially when her coat is off), leather boots, denim, the color scheme black and white, bandannas, anything really that makes her look like a total badass.
|Face or Heel |
» Heel
|Job at AWE |
» Amore will be a valet for Mordecai, who is her husband off screen.
|Skills |
» Persistent and high physical stamina
Charming and full of energy, Alice is an energetic doer, cheerful and extremely spontaneous. A true woman of action. Even if she doesn't seem it, she has strong observational skills and a keen sense to other people's feelings. Quite the problem solver, regardless of her outlandish methods. This spirited blonde would like to think she's an excellent diplomat and negotiator, especially when it comes to her pitching ideas. By nature, she's too open and direct to deliberately manipulate someone (lies and manipulation is foreign to her, unless it's for an act), but she will fight her cause until there isn't any fight left in her.
» Improviser
Perceptive, witty, and clever. Rarely missing anything that is important, because she approaches everything with curiosity and interest, Alice will take impossible situations and make 'em great. Her memory for details and facts are impressive. She absorbs everything that interests her like a sponge, storing it in her noggin for later use.
» Dancing, acting, and gymnastic experience.
Pretty point blank, Alice kept her family busy by getting them to sign her up to as much as possible so she can get better at... life. Also, with such a busy schedule when she was younger, she didn't need to be home, which was a far more pleasant option than dealing with the turmoil. Her home life drew her insane. Convincing her parents to get her involved in the community was the easy part, making them part of it, her life, though? Not so much.
» Odd & blessed with boundless creativity
Alice has always been a little weirdo. Too much individuality for one girl. And yet, she doesn't know how to be any different. Sure, some of her creative ideas are concerning and creepy, but why should she limit herself? If her mind wants to run rampant, it should! Being different isn't a bad thing and Alice will never change for anyone.
|Looks & Style |
» Inspired by her aunt, who led a broken family with dignity and grace, Amore strives to be a visual masterpiece. Her aunt was a woman who carried whatever she wore like a queen. A queen who had an undeniable ability to live a life of pure kindness. Alice's goal, no matter where she is, or if she's being Amore or not, is to make her image timeless. Definitive and iconic, to where it is her trademark. Her look. A look that pushes boundaries and continues to evolve. Alice wants to be a trend setter, a walking fashion statement, and when people look at their television screen or see her on the ring, she wants them to recognize her immediately and maybe, just maybe, follow her as an example. If she can aspire others to walk with an air of confidence, loving who they were, while also not being afraid to explore out of the box, then her life would be more than fulfilled.
What more could you ask for? She's happily married, she has endless projects that make her smile, she's about to start the career of her life that will hopefully set her on a remarkable path of happiness and success, and if she's able to move someone or an entire audience in ways not many people can, then she can say she is more than satisfied with the life she's been given.
Hardships aside. Alice is a happy girl.
|Personality Traits |
» Visionary → Imaginative → Fun-Loving → Gregarious → Persistent → Dutiful (even if she is unbeknownst to the fact that she's a tease) → Exuberant → Trusting → Picky → Dependent → Reckless → Fearful (primarily of her husband leaving her)
|Favorite wrestler |
» She's biased. Her husband, even if he hasn't made his mark yet. Alice will make it known that he's HER favorite. |
49,041 | 1,324 | 14 | 2,363 | 319 | Backstage
Alex had spent more time thinking this through than most of his plans, although it was still driven by his baser instincts. For most of the show he'd been in the back rooms, telling people that he was working out, practicing what he called "it's Plyo stuff bro, next gen motions to build that fast-twitch fiber in your muscles". Really, it was a variety of jumps but it made him look like he was taking an interest in improving himself. Then he walked around, complained that he felt sore and loudly mentioned he was going to take a long shower while gathering up his dufflebag. Luckily, the showers were close to one of the exits, and the hallway got little traffic. He strolled leisurely towards the door with his dufflebag in hand and his hair conspicuously dry.
Marshall was standing outside the door talking on the phone with his wife trying to get her to convince their daughter to not attempt to join the wrestling industry. This was a constant for his family and he just wanted to make sure she wasn't doing this because of him. That's when he heard the door behind him open. He turned to see who it was not expecting who he saw.
Alex opened the door but immediately remembered he wasn't given the keys to one of the rental cars. Frustrated, he pulled out his phone began to schedule an Uber ride to the hotel. If he left now he'd have time to change and make it to the start of Drum and Bass night at the club. Alex was ready to live it up and put this night behind him. Maybe he'd even party hard enough to forget this moment the next day. He was staring at his phone and holding the door open, failing to notice Marshall standing there.
Marshall lifteted his phone up and said, "I'm gonna have to call you back later." He stuck his phone back in his pocket and walked up behind Alex. He put a hand on his shoulder saying, "What is going on, son?" He had a stern face but his voice didn't sound at all judgmental trying not to get a bad response from the kid.
He was startled when Marshall put a hand on his shoulder, he recovered his composure enough to say "I can't get a cell signal in this place, needed to step out for a minute to deal with something." It was hasty, but it wasn't totally implausible as far as explanations went.
Marshall knew that it was very possible that he was telling the truth, but Marshall also knew that Alex had his bag with him. "If there is an issue you know that there are a lot of people willing to help you out." At this Marshall eyed the bag before looking back to Alex's face.
Alex didn't want to come clean with it, but he could maybe try to get some sympathy from Marshall with a good story. "Well, I'm trying to meet up with my friend that lives in this city tonight, but he was telling me that he had to change his plans. I know I'm not scheduled for the rest of show, would it be a big deal if I headed out early to meet him?"
Marshall was a little angry at this but he did his best not to show it, "No, it's isn't a big deal. Staying mediocre isn't a big deal either." He said those words with as much sarcasm as he possibly could. He then continued more serious this time, "Look, you won't be in any trouble for leaving, BUT it makes it seem as if you have a lack of dedication. If you wanna leave then I can't stop you. But it is also highly unlikely that if you do leave that the higher ups will wanna give you a push. They want people to show how dedicated they are to this buisness. Those are the people who will get far here."
Alex was annoyed by this advice, but it did make him think. "Look, I have a lot respect for you and the business, but things change. Dedication and loyalty are what every job wants, but being a wrestler in this era isn't just about showing up to a shift like a grocery store clerk. I know I'm doing well because I can hear the crowd react when I hit my spots, I can see all the retweets I get and all the gifs people make, and when I see them stop then I'll worry. If the higher ups don't see what the crowd sees in me, then I don't know what to say, but I might as well not worry and just give myself some time to chill." Marshall had a point, but he clearly had different view of the management team than Alex did. He didn't want to attack them blatantly, but a little bit of his growing frustration seeped through into the words he said.
"If you wanna go then get out of here. But realize that the amount of people who want to stand by you or work with you will dwindle each time you do something that shows you are just here for the fame and money. All the other wrestlers that are here that aren't apart of the booking tonight are either working out, preparing for future promos, or watching matches to learn what they could potentially do better. It has never been about showing up for a shift. It's about showing dedication and support. But since you're so set on leaving then get out of here. You most likely won't be here long with that attitude." Marshall started walking away towards the door, but he kept his ear open in case Alex said more.
"I've been walking my path for a while now and so far it's led me from the trailer park to here. I ain't gonna abandon it just yet. I want to wrestle, I want to improve, but I also want to be my own man. I know you don't think much of me right now, but I hope I'll change your mind some day." After finishing what he said Alex walked on, out into the arena parking lot, off to meet his ride. There would be consequences for this, but Alex didn't have the mind to think about them right now. | SavakaWe fall so that we may learn to rise again
6’ 1” – 220 lbs | 14 Years of Experience
|Birth Name |
Jean Francois Mpolondo
|Hails From |
» New York City
» January 3rd, 1982 (35)
|Fighting Style |
» Savaka is a technical wrestler through and through. He has spent most of his career wrestling for a shoot-style promotion that emphasized realism and grappling, giving him strong matwork skills. Expect lots of chain wrestling and reversals in his matches, along with a wide variety of submission holds and quick pinfall attempts. With his current gimmick, he especially likes to wear down the arm of his opponent to set up for his finisher, which gives him the opportunity to show off his various wristlocks and armbars. He uses the big slams and suplexs more conservatively than most wrestlers, often waiting until the match is well underway and using less flashy moves to get things to the ground, such as arm drags or judo style throws and trips. As part of his current gimmick, he does not use strikes, but does have a few kicks and stomps and stomps that look good if that were to change, his punches and forearms blows are not as polished. He has virtually no high-flying moves, because they are not part of the style he is used to and because he prefers not to take risks.
|Signature Moves |
» Cross Armbreaker
» Hammerlock Suplex
» Small Package Pin
» Cross Kneelock
|Finisher |
» Tripitaka Lock (Omoplata, poses as though he is meditating once it is locked in)
» Kalachakra(Granby Roll)
|Theme |
»
|Gimmick |
» Jean portrays the character Savaka, a monk following a new age religion called the Way of Peace. Initially brought in as the bodyguard to another character with spiritual guru gimmick, he has kept the gimmick because creative has had little direction for him. The character is stoic and seldom speaks, and has sworn a vow of nonviolence that prevents him from using strikes, leaving him to rely on submission holds and throws in the ring. Savaka is lodged solidly in the midcard, collecting some wins but never building momentum and frequently putting over other wrestlers headed on to greater heights. When he does get time on the mic he uses and exaggeratedly calm voice and relies on generic new age phrases about enlightenment and mindfulness. Savaka also will pose like he’s meditating or praying frequently, and displays an unnatural tranquility when caught in submission holds. He dresses in something close to the stereotypical Shaolin monk outfit, orange and yellow robes with one sleeve.
|Face or Heel |
» Face
|Backstage Rep |
» Jean came from a family of Congolese immigrants, and always felt a little awkward in school. He loved sports but never really cared about winning or losing, which meant he never really felt like he fit in with the rest of the jocks at school. After getting a degree in English he went to Japan to teach, hoping to see more of the world. As a regular at the local gym he befriended some pro wrestlers and began training with them. It was not an easy process, even with a background in amateur wrestling, but he put in the effort and debuted with Combaticon, a shoot style promotion. There he built a solid career and honed his skills, even though he was never the top star he still had several classic matches and developed a reputation as a safe and reliable worker.
Combaticon would run into financial difficulties as time went on. The older wrestlers bodies began to break down from the stress, and the rising popularity of MMA started to cut into their market, and the owner made several questionable decisions. Seeing the writing on the wall, Jean left for AWE. AWE likes the fact that he is a safe worker who can get a good match out of almost anyone, but they quickly discovered that he was almost devoid of charisma. Coupled with his less flashy style of wrestling, the company has pegged him as a guy to help build up newer talent, letting them learn and collect wins. Jean doesn’t mind this, but he is looking for ways to increase his earnings; he knows that he will have to retire eventually and is trying to make sure he earns enough to keep his family financially stable for as long as possible.
Off camera Jean is relaxed and doesn’t feel the need get involved in drama. He doesn’t like to go out drinking or enjoy the nightlife, preferring instead to spend his time with a good book. He does not have much clout in backstage politics because he is fairly new to AWE, but is always happy to help out newer wrestlers if they ask for advice. He knows that there are many good people in the industry, but he is always put off by stories of some the shadier business that goes on.
|Other |
» Unlike his character, Jean is a devout Roman Catholic
» Face Claim is Jack Johnson |
49,042 | 1,324 | 15 | 2,573 | 1,662 | Collab with:
Her soft, blue eyes were glued to the monitor as the main match proceeded between Zachary Wake and Caiden Winters. Zoned in and her attention completely tunnel visioned toward the match, Joy Ryder was not aware of anyone but the individuals on the ring preparing to fight. The sound of people chewing food at the nearby catering table, the film crew breaking down equipment and preparing for After Hours, the light breaths of those around her, wrestler and road crew alike, watching the match in equal amount of anticipation, was all background noise to her. Rubbing her hands together in nervous anxiety, she took in the entrance of Zachary Wake, a wrestler she had come to respect, due to his experience and apparent efforts at the AWE. She smiled at herself, adoring his calm, yet prevalent stage presence. A man who thrived off the heat.
Then came the pause.
It felt like her heart stopped along with the long silence. Bringing her hands to her lips, she rested them on her face, cupping her lips, waiting. Waiting for the next wrestler to come in and make the crowd go wild. The one they all were waiting for.
The one she was waiting for.
CAI-DEN WIN-TERS
CAI-DEN WIN-TERS
And then his music hit and Caiden Winters, with the utmost pride and confidence, made himself public. Resolution could be read all over his face. There was no way in hell he’d lose. He made everyone believe that everyday was his day. The day that the AWE would realize he was undeniably the best damned wrestler that has ever walked on that ring. The inner fan girl in Joy jumped and squealed, but Joy, herself, in front of everyone else backstage, was frozen still. With intent and agonizing excitement, the on-air personality internally prayed for the results to end in her favor.
The fight began.
Caiden opened the match with an impeccable drop kick! It was so good. Joy could feel the energy emitting out of the screen and to her. And, well, everyone else in the room, but right now she wasn’t really paying attention to them. All that mattered was this fight. Caiden was going to win. He’s more than ready, Zack. Go get him Caiden! Joy cheered in her head.
The boys fought for power and the anxiety moved from her chest to her stomach, twisting and turning. Zachary Wake was a strong opponent, there was no doubt about that. Her body responded instinctively when Caiden got welted in the jaw. Subtly flinching at the sight, the brunette pouted at the screen. AND THEN THE KNEE TO HIS ABDOMEN. Hugging her body, as if she could feel the pain Caiden was going through, Joy earnestly watched the screen, hoping for a turnover.
Joy eagerly observed Caiden’s reverse neckbreaker, as he retaliated to Zack’s claim to being the best. She couldn’t help but gleam at the pose Caiden made. This match was too much for her. She would surely pass out from the suspense.
And then... the match took a turn for the worse. First the liontamer, squeezing the life out of her favorite wrestler, Joy was losing her breath from the intense hold. Come on! Fight, Caiden! You can do it! Get out of this! Fight! Then the referee having the audacity to ask Caiden if he wanted to QUIT, and then… oh god, this was awful. Too many highs, too many lows.
Caiden’s gonna kill you!
Caiden’s gonna kill you!
Not even Caiden’s remarkable Solstice could have prepared her for this. Why was Zachary Wake’s such a CHEATER?! Before she knew it, Wake gave the lowest of low blows, so low, that the referee DID NOT see, and Caiden… lost. He lost. This wasn’t fair! Joy’s right hand was balled into a fist and resting on her chest. She had gotten so immersed into the match and then Caiden Winters, angry as ever, which was to be expected, killed the ref.
Joy’s heart stopped again.
And as she stood there, lost in the show that she helped put on, a hand tapped on her shoulder. Wade Palmer, who naturally rushed backstage just seconds after the cameras shut off to host the After Hours talk show, appeared behind her and tapped her on the shoulder. “Hey, we’re on in two minutes. You ready, or what?”
Snapping back to present time, Joy turned toward her friend and mentor. Oh, right. “I’m ready as I’ll ever be!” After giving a genuine smile, she started heading toward the AWE talkroom. “That was... a lot to handle.” Joy honestly voiced. Her heart was still racing.
Wade nodded as he took his seat behind the desk, “Yeah, how do you think I feel? That was nuts. This tournament is gonna be giving away pay-per-view quality matches for free… how are we gonna make any money? The party bus doesn’t run on smiles and sunshine, y’know.” Wade winked at Joy and turned toward the camera for his countdown.
“Trinity believes it does.” Joy teasingly joked, while taking her seat on the other side of the glass table. The two talk show hosts got themselves situated before the signal went off and it was go time. With the queue that the camera was indeed speeding, Joy’s on-air persona flooded over and she shook her head, smiling at Wade, “The referee might actually be dead.”
“Which raises the question of: did he deserve it? No, absolutely not. You never put your hands on the official when you’re out there, no matter what happens. If they make a miscall, then so be it. They’re out there doing their jobs, and their job isn’t to fight the competitors.” Wade reached under the table, where he kept his snacks, and withdrew a can of Pringles — original of course — and popped a couple into his mouth, crunching them thoughtfully. “Caiden Winters is going to be fired, you know. And he deserves it. Or, at least suspended.”
Joy visibly grimace in front of the camera. Yeah, no. She was going going to argue her point. The referee deserved ‘dying’ because he failed to do his JOB. “Y’know, Wade, you don’t notice the referee unless he makes a bad call. And here tonight, he made a call that could ruin an exceptionally talented wrestler’s career. I’d like to think we’re all referees at heart. We like to call the throws and errors. Caiden Winters is indispensable. He’s far too loved and far too talented. Losing him would cause unwarranted backlash for the AWE.”
Wade shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t get me wrong, I love him as much as the next person, maybe more than anyone else, but I don’t think it’d be that huge of a dent. The shadow is always filled in the end. Nobody here is fully indispensable.” Wade explained as he crunched on some Pringles, nodding to accentuate his point. “Putting your hands on an innocent official is just as reprehensible as cheating to win.”
Narrowing her eyes at her mentor, Joy didn’t respond for a brief second. He was doing this on purpose. She was already heated and this was doubling that. “Oh? So you’re saying that not even Drayden is fully indispensable?” she challenged Wade. This. Was. War. “If a referee can’t do his job he shouldn’t be out there calling the shots and determining the AWE history.”
“Yeah, I would happily argue that Drayden isn’t indispensable. I believe fully that everyone in the AWE could be in that spot — and maybe before tonight, I thought it was a certainty that Caiden would be stepping up to the plate to take that spot, but I don’t know anymore. Maybe he’s not what I thought he was, maybe he’s not what any of us thought he was. These things happen, and I know it sucks that the referee didn’t see it, but… you have to look at it from his perspective. The ref calls it as he sees it; he doesn’t have eyes in the back of his head. He had to cover up the turnbuckle that was exposed when the low blow happened, he was thoroughly distracted. He was doing his job.” A couple more moments of getting her riled up, then he’d call Caiden on.
“And now he’s dead.” Joy looked away from Wade and to the camera, grabbing her glass of water and lifting it up to the audience, “Ain’t that right, fans? He was warned, wasn’t he? Caiden does kill.” she aggressively sipped at her water, fire in her eyes.
Wade shrugged his shoulders, “Well, I guess you can ask him about the situation yourself, because as I’ve just been informed: Caiden Winters is not, as of this moment, either suspended, nor has he been given well wishes for all his future endeavors. In fact, quite the opposite. He’s going to be our guest tonight.” Wade said, and the man himself walked onto the stage, a clear air of frustration and anger around him as he headed onto the set and took a seat next to Joy.
“Now, I don’t really feel like talking, but it turns out Roddy is too scared to let me anywhere near him, so I guess I will. Hi, I’m Caiden Winters, and if you’re wondering, if you should believe what Joy just said, yeah. You should. I’m a killer.”
Wade looked over at Joy, and stuffed a few more Pringles into his mouth, waiting for the inevitable explosion of words.
Joy caught her gaze with Caiden, as her mind instinctively thought about her next course of actions. With a mischievous smirk, she turned her head toward Wade’s direction and tilted her head, still not agreeing with him, “Caiden, I’m so glad you could be here with us tonight, but what I can’t fathom is why Mr. Palmer here thinks the referee was completely innocent, do you agree?”
“No, I don’t. But, I finished my issues with him out there, don’t ya think? I beat his damn ass, and it’ll be a miracle if he makes it to another show. The person that I have a problem with… is the man upstairs. Roddy Quinn. Roderick Quinn. The man who damn near didn’t sign me because he didn’t think I was good enough to wrestle in his stupid company. That title shouldn’t even be decided in a fu— tournament.” Caiden bit his tongue and Wade held back a smile as he took the chance to speak.
“And what do you think should be done for it? The champion won his last title defense —”
“That title should be around my waist! I don’t care if he won the match, I don’t care if Drayden beat me—” Caiden paused for a moment, before spitting out in his best Wade impression, “-- fair and square in the middle of that ring. I kept my promise. I said that Drayden wouldn’t make it out of the arena on his own two feet. And he didn’t. I did say that, you remember, Joy?”
Taking another sip of water, she nodded in agreement, “I sure do. You were the first wrestler on Do or Die. Caiden Winters never breaks his promises. Not then, not today, not ever. And what did you say specifically tonight?” Once again, Joy looked at Wade, enjoying this After Show thoroughly. “You’re dead.”
“That’s right. And you know what else I said? That I am better than the best. I am actually as good as everyone else out there pretends to be, it’s scary. The fact that Roddy thinks he can hold me back, by putting together a tournament, and then putting me against someone who CONSISTENTLY cheats to win. So he cheats. He wins the match on a technicality, and now what? I’m out of it? I don’t get a chance at the world title now? Nobody else in this tournament earned their spot, I earned my right to be the number one contender before I broke his damn knee.” Caiden leaned forward toward the camera, shaking his head. “I’m going to take this show over. One step at a time, and if Roderick Quinn thinks that he can hold me back by screwing me out of what should be my title, then he’d better walk his ass out to the ring and hold me back himself. I’m done playing games.”
Joy’s gaze was fully locked on Caiden now. “And what are you going to do, Caiden Winters? How are you going to get Roddy’s attention? FULL attention?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know.” And with that, Caiden dropped the mic he’d been holding on the floor, pushed himself away from the glass desk, and walked off screen.
“Well, he’s certainly got a chip on his shoulder…”
“I do… want to know.” Joy softly responded, holding her glass of water with both hands. She’d be waiting to see what he had in store for the AWE. She couldn’t wait. | Daniel “DC” “Don’t Call Me Danny” “Danny” “Danny Church” Church
6’ - 184 lbs | 12
|Birth Name |
» Daniel Church
|Hails From |
» Sacramento, California
» October 9th, 1985 (31)
|Job at AWE |
» He does not work at AWE. However, he is often at their events and is friends with more than a few wrestlers and backstage employees. He is a wrestling journalist and posts stories as they come and go, and reviews the shows and matches. He reacts accordingly based on how he feels the company is performing, and has no qualms calling out a wrestler or wrestlers for having a shit match, cutting a shit promo, or calling out the powers that be for making their fucking look like goddamn geeks.
|Skills |
» Smooth talking
» Tech savvy
» Dadskills
» Radio host-esque silky smooth voice
» Good at ranting
|Reason for being here |
» When he was younger, in 2001, Daniel Church had a brilliant idea in his school computers class: he’d build a fucking website. Now, the first thing you had to do when building a website, was pick something you were passionate about… at the time, Danny Church was only really passionate about one thing: PROFESSIONAL WRESTLING. Even at the young age of fifteen, DC had a brilliant mind for coding and built a website that was grand, even for the times. It gained a following, and the forums on it exploded in popularity as the tape traders and more hardcore fans finally found a place to talk and get their opinions out there.
The Smark Remark, the website is known as, and it’s only grown since its original inception in mid-2001. Danny made friends with the right people, and after high school, he passed the day-to-day management of the website over to a team of administrators and moderators. The man himself began a focus on the content creation for the website. He hosted podcasts with wrestlers from all over the world, and he began to rate matches.
Every show he saw, either live or on a tape he bought, he rated the match. Over time, his ratings and opinions got a little controversial, with people arguing about whether he was right or wrong, but he there was one thing they agreed on: he was consistent. He also wrote reports on rumors that he heard, and posted opinions and frequently participated in conversations on the message boards.
Four years after graduating, when Danny was 22, his then girlfriend, Clarissa Whitaker, gave birth to his two beautiful children. Twins, a boy and a girl. Robert and Cynthia, Bobby and Cyn. His babies and his life — other than work. They are turning ten in January of next year, and attend an online school to make it easier on Daniel to travel around for his job. They haven’t seen their mother since they were two; as it turns out, their mother was… crazy, to say the least. After Daniel discovered her drug habits and realized she was a poison in his life, he cut her out and got full custody of his children.
Since then, the single dad life has been the life for him. Working and taking care of two rascals isn’t exactly the easiest lot in life, but… he makes it work. When he was called up by Walter Durrel, who proposed combining their two mediums a few years ago, DC jumped on the opportunity. Together now, they put out podcasts reviewing AWE mostly, as that’s Walter’s preferred company. In return, Danny Church offers the Smark Remark’s website as a new home for the Wrestling Journal. They make a surprisingly good team so far.
|Looks & Style |
» Decked out from head to toe in wrestling gear, Danny doesn’t give a FUCK about how people think of him in public. He’s a hardworking single father, get bent. He’ll sometimes match or contradict his children when they go to the shows — both of his kids are huge fans too.
|Personality Traits |
» Danny is brutal and quick to be critical. He doesn’t listen to the reasons for things sucking and just accepts that they suck. If a wrestler isn’t working at their full capacity because of injuries? Whatever, stop fucking working. Utilize your roster, people.
He’s fun to talk to, and is good at telling stories and ranting and making other people who agree with him happy. He often gets into long winded debates on his podcast with Walter, but as a person Danny honestly looks forward to it every night.
Deep down, he’s just a mark, dude. He loves wrestling, everything about it from the ground up is amazing, and he can’t get enough. The fact that he built something great out of his love for wrestling amazes him to this day, and the Smark Remark is his baby. He enjoys posting on the message boards to this day, and recording the weekly podcasts is something he lovingly looks forward to every day.
It’s his second baby, the thing he loves most right behind his children.
|Favorite wrestler |
» Caiden goddamn fucking Winters, fuck you Roddy for burying the best wrestler to ever grace this goddamn planet. And Retribution. Excited for him to come, which I'M SURE HE'LL DO EVENTUALLY ONCE RODERICK QUINN PULLS HIS HEAD OUT OF HIS FUCKING ASS. Gethin's a personal favorite too, at least he gets used properly by those idiots.
And fuck you Drayden, I bet you encouraged that shit, didn’t you? Gotta GO OVER EVERYONE. Asshole. And of course, my fucking kid loves you so I have all that stupid merchandise in my fucking HOUSE.
Trinity’s cool too.
And Morgana.
What? I can’t hate the kids’s favorites, I’d be an asshole.
Except for Drayden. Fuck you. And fuck your stupid fat head wall stickers, now you’re stuck to the goddamn wall behind my FUCKING COUCH.
|Rep at AWE |
» Honestly, most people at the AWE don’t really like him. Daniel is loud, brash, and he doesn’t care about calling them out if they do something stupid. If you botch one goddamn move you better believe DC will roast the fuck out of you. You lose a match looking like a geek and hate it? Too goddamn bad, Danny Church knows full well you’re a NERD and you’ll never live it down.
But, he’s undeniably good at the job, and they actually take his ratings seriously. The few wrestlers that Danny fanboys about are quite fond of him, and he does a good podcast that wrestlers try to take advantage of. It can just be hard to deal with someone that’s going to call out every little mistake you make, even when it’s more blamed on the booking team than yourself.
He also has a tendency to post rumors about who’s going to win or lose a match, and rarely checks the validity of his source. Unlike his partner, Walter, Daniel Church is not a journalist. He’s angry millennial who thinks Roderick Quinn is ruining his goddamn favorite thing by blowing Drayden and giving him everything he asks for.
This doesn’t stop every member of the locker room from obsessively checking his reviews, though. Even Roddy does it.
|Other |
» 16a064
» Jensen Ackles. |
49,043 | 1,324 | 16 | 2,173 | 2,273 | Barbara stood backstage and shook the nerves out of her limbs before her theme music started up. It didn’t matter how many times she did this, or how much she loved her job, nor how long she had held the title belt that was strapped around her waist - she still got the jitters when it came to performing. It is good practice for the young aspiring actress, pretending to be someone that she truly is not: Barbie Summers, top bitch, talentless whore, Plastic Queen… the girl that doesn’t deserve this.
Fuck that, I deserve every bit of this. Barbara thought to herself, getting hyped and into character. Barbara cared a lot about the heat that she received, but Barbie basked in the flames. Barbie thinks herself better than all of these peasants - these good-for-nothing fans and wrestlers that think they know who she is - they need to be taught that their place is, always was and always will be, below her.
The tinkling notes of her theme song prepped Barbie for her entrance and she got in position to walk. The lights of the arena dimmed to near blackness as the intro played. When the first few notes of the song hit, the titantron lit up with her stage name “Barbie Summers” in thick, glittery pink script. The very edges of the screen were bordered with bright white circular lights, very reminiscent of old school movie theater signs, a hint at her Hollywood-sized dreams.
Dressed in a shiny spandex mockery of a purple and pink cheerleader’s uniform, Barbie strutted her stuff down the aisle. The crowd wasted no time greeting her with their usual chorus of boos. Barbie took it in stride, posing for photos and dancing to her theme as if she heard nothing at all. She was a star, and this aisle was her red carpet. Confetti cannons posted along both sides of the aisle blasted glittering gold and silver flecks into air to rain down upon the champion, and some lucky fans. Gold like the title at her waist, and silver like the crown on her head. How lovely.
Upon arriving to the ring, Barbie deftly jumped up to grab the second rope. Using her upper body and core strength, Barbie pulled herself up and pushed her feet forward so that she slid onto the canvas without touching the bottom rope, limbo style. She stood up from the entrance smoothly and did a quick princess wave to the left, and another to the right, before she made her way to the center of the ring.
In the middle of the ring stood an ostentatious, gaudy throne that was draped in silks and flowers to match her outfit. Barbie sat gently in the throne, stuck her nose up in the air, and held out her hand for the referee to place a microphone in. Once he did, Barbie grinned smugly at the crowd before beginning her monologue.
“You know, a girl like me has people… and my people have been telling me some very interesting things recently. Do you know what they’ve been saying to me?" she paused and awaited their response. They booed, naturally. Some even picked up their taunt about sucking Drayden - to which she did not respond to today, she was sticking to her own script, for once.
“I’ve heard that some of you have taken to calling me the Plastic Queen. And, you know?” Barbie mockingly put a hand to her chest as if she was overcome with emotion.
“You know, that is just so cute. Really, it’s quite amusing. Plastic is fake, I get it. How verrry clever. But let me set you straight here... just because I am something that none of you - or any of these other wrestlers - will ever be, doesn’t mean that I am not real. If being THE BEST female wrestler in AWE history makes me fake, then package me up and call me plastic, by all means. Plastic or not, though, you are absolutely right about one thing, Dolls, and that is that I. AM. QUEEN.” The blonde made a show of crossing her legs regally on the throne before toying at a rose petal with her left index finger. Her right hand still held the mic that she spoke into.
“And it has been a very big week for your Queen, in many ways. This week marks the 100 day anniversary of me driving the Evil Sorceress out of the kingdom, isn’t that wonderful? I have had over one hundred glorious, victorious days with this title. It should be a time of celebration for us! But… the festivities must wait, for our King...” Barbie frowned at the crowd, and there was a large part of Barbara frowning behind the character as well. This was a hard time for Drayden, and it broke her heart to see it.
“Our King has to go away for some time. So, my Dolls, it looks like it’s just going to be you and I for a while. While pretender kings may come and try to warm this throne in Drayden’s stead - I want you all to know that the TRUE ROYALS of AWE aren’t going anywhere. Drayden will be back and by my side once more."
Barbie's voice grew harsh and assertive now. “This is our kingdom, and I will continue to rule for the both of us. If anyone thinks they have a right to this throne, they can meet me in the ring where they will only end up bowing at me feet -- Long Live Queen B!” | what if I slept my way to the top? I’m on top, aren’t I?”
5’ 9 - 190 lb | 5 Years
|Birth Name |
» Barbara Rose Somerville
|Hails From |
» Baton Rouge, Louisiana
» November 11, 1993 (23)
|Fighting Style |
» Ruthless in the ring, Barbie uses her loud mouth just as much as her strong body to break down her opponents. The bodacious blonde has been using her sharp words to cut up divas since long before she made it big in AWE. Barbie knows that once a mind is broken, the body follows soon after. A strong background in gymnastics and technical wrestling from a young age ensure that Barbie has the strength and skill needed to back up all the shit she talks - both in, and out of the ring - and she certainly talks a lot of it. Unlike the weight that her skinny namesake suggests, Barbie is thick with toned muscle and, despite the extra pounds that she carries, most of her ring time is spent in the air - whether that be jumping off the ropes, doing flips, and hip attacking opponents with one of her most powerful assets. When not exercising her more aerial talents, Barbie is keen on wearing down her foes' limbs through a couple of signature submissions.
|Signature Moves |
» Full Moon
» Rewind the Clip
» Legally Blonde {Pronounced: ‘Leg-uh-lee’ blonde}
» The Pole Dancer
|Finisher |
» Aerial Rear View {ARV}
» Seeing Stars
|Theme |
» “Baby go ahead
I'll be the villain you can blame
I'll be the belle of the brawl
Be the lust in us all
I'm the diva of the damned”
|Gimmick |
» Barbie struts to the ring dressed in practically painted on pink and purple - and often sparkly - outfits. A careful, modelesque stride, paired with a scantily clad wardrobe and a hypersexualized theme song, make Barbie’s entire entrance seem like one long strip tease. She keeps her clothes on, of course, this is a televised sport… but that doesn’t make it any less obscene. The blonde acts like a superstar on a stage, and the only thing bigger than Barbie Summers’ ass, is her ego. A lot of people claim that she slept her way up the ladder and, to a certain extent, she did; the managers, and Barbie herself, dial up the drama on these claims, and make a spectacle of it. Prone to witty retort and petty cat fights in the ring, with a strong skillset to back it up, Barbie truly is a belle of the brawl, and the reigning queen of the divas. Much like her beloved boyfriend, Barbie walks as if the ground she walks upon should be kissed - because it should, she’s the best around!
|Face or Heel |
» She may be a heel, but she is the highest of heels - a dangerous beauty that people love to hate. The crowd often chants insults along the lines of “You-suck-Drayden!”, to which Barbie always has a new, sarcastically flirtatious response. She blows kisses at her haters, and feeds off of their negative energy… there is a fine line between between such polarized emotions, after all.
|Backstage Rep |
» While Barbie Summers, the wrestling diva, is a super bitch, through and through; Barbara Somerville, the woman, has a much softer heart. Not all of her gimmick is an act, it is more like an intense exaggeration of her true personality than a complete falsehood. Raised the only girl of a litter of children, Barbie was doted on and spoiled as a child. She grew up looking to her older brothers for approval; They were huge fans of AWE, and this fandom naturally spread onto her. Despite the low funds available in her trailer park-dwelling, fatherless, bayou upbringing, Barbie was able to join gymnastics as a talent and participated in many beauty pageants - all-the-while keeping her tomboyish love of wrestling. The combination of her blonde-haired, blue eyed beauty, charismatic stage presence, athletic physique, and long time love of the sport made Barbie a perfect fit to become a wrestler when the company passed through New Orleans, scouting talent. Barbie was 18 when the opportunity to join AWE arose, and she risked it all in order seize it.
Barbie started off as a jobber - athletic, but a novice that was often booked to lose matches and build up other stars in the show. Barbie had bigger dreams than that... celebrity-status dreams. It wasn’t until last year - around the time that she started hooking up with Drayden - that Barbie Summers’ name became a household one. She ripped through the ranks until she could hold a crown all her own, beside her king. Talent isn’t totally sexually transmitted, of course. Barbie has actually been good enough to defend her championship title through quite a few major match ups. That being said, she values hard work and ambition above everything, and supports the underdogs in their own fight to the top - she was once in their place, and she crawled from even lower places than many of them. While her inherent pride makes her unwilling to easily give up the title, if it were to go to someone worthy, like Trinity - her biggest ring rival, but good friend backstage - Barbie could manage to accept that defeat.
|Other |
» While becoming the AWE’s women’s wrestling champion has been a dream come true, Barbara’s biggest dream is to make it big in Hollywood and become a true a-lister, as an actress.
» Barbara is a bookworm - she loves reading and is often seen with a book in hand or close by her side backstage. When she is working out, which she does a lot, audio books are much preferred over music. Steamy romance novels are a particularly guilty pleasure of hers, but stories of all varieties fascinate and enthrall!
» Understands and can speak french, more specifically the broken creole language that is spoken around the backwoods just outside Baton Rouge that she grew up in. And, yes, she does speak with a thick Louisiana-brand accent.
» FC: Iskra Lawrence |
49,044 | 1,324 | 17 | 1,117 | 49 | Roger pulled up at the arena right on time, and briskly walked inside, eager to get going. He pass by a few of the other backstage crew guys, and gave each of them nice little hellos, a nod and a smile. Each one of them just said "Hey Roger." back, before continuing what they were doing.
After Roger set up his equipment, well, it was time for the show to start. He put on a pair of headphones, and began. And boy, was the show a ripper. So much happened just within the first 15 minutes. Drayden dropped the title AND Roderick announced a tournament for the new champ?! Surprises like this were why Roger loved not looking at the card and spoiling himself. He simply pressed music buttons when he had to press music buttons. What a good life.
Then came the women's match. Oooohhh, the women. The moment Roger began Rosado's music, he hummed along to the first few lines, then when the lyrics he knew came on, he quietly sang them to himself.
"Before we begin to say goodbye, let’s start making up for lost time..."
The remaining matches and promos were good, sure, but even after the show was over, Roger couldn't stop marking out over the events of the tag team match.
Zachary returned from the gym just as Barbie finished her promo. Damn she was good on the mic. Will was lucky to have a girl like her to hold down the fort while he was away.
After Zack talked with Caiden about spots for their match later that night, Zack sat down to watch Clayton fight Razorblade. Both were talented for sure, so this one was bound to be good. In fact, knowing the outcome didn't make the match worse to watch, it was like a spoiler to a movie - now you want to know how they get there.
And they put on a good show. For a split second, Zachary thought it might be hard to follow up - but then he remembered who he was working with. And now that Drayden was out, that man was possibly the best in the business - Caiden Winters. Stretching one final time during Clayton's promo, Zachary was ready.
As Ian began looking over his script, he felt a smack on his back, and he quickly swiveled around to find Sexton grinning at him. "Sparky baby, I saw a couple of your matches from down in Greensboro daddeh, and you had the people in the palm of your hand."
Ian was surprised to find Sexton complimenting him. Sure, the Sexellence of Sexecution was a gimmick, but Sexton Love was a method actor.
"Wow, Sexton... Thanks. I'm not really sure what to sa-"
"Darlin' I know you're trying to make a name for yourself out there, but my God just promise me you'll be careful coming off that top rope. It's gotta mean somethin' daddeh, don't be killin' yourself out there just for the sake of it." Ian remembered Zachary telling him something similar to this when he first started.
"Flashy moves are cool, but they're also the most dangerous." Or something like that.
"Always remember darlin', a good match is like a good fuck."
"Woah, Sexton, I'm not gonna be fu-"
"It's all about the foreplay. You gotta tease the fans a litte out there, and build to the big climax. That's how you make 'em SCREAM your name." Oh. That's wasn't as bad as what Ian thought he was gonna say. Still a bit gross though.
Ian wasn't really sure what to say. "Advice from a veteran is good any day, but Sexton certainly presents his... Interestingly. The analogy does make sense though. It can't just be big moves all throughout."
"Um... Thank you, Sexton. You always seem to get the message across and still talk about sex. That's a... Skill to have. But I do get what you mean, so thank you."
"And I know you don't want to step on too many toes, but nobody knows who Owen Sparks is better than you darlin'. When you get in that promo booth, don't be afraid to be spontaneous. That's your chance to tell the world who you are. Taking risks is how you make it in this business daddeh."
"That's a really nice bit of advice, Sexton. Thanks. I mean, you are one of the best around on the mic, so I do suppose you know what's best."
After Ian's makeup was done, he returned to the promo shooting area. Before long the cameras were rolling, and Ian was ready to shoot.
"Can you hear that? The roar of the crowd? It's only natural when Owen Sparks walks down to the ring! This Spark of Brilliance is ready to beat anyone on his way to the top! Get ready for some high-flying action when I come to St. Paul, Minnesota...
... Grand Rapids, Michigan...
... Green Bay, Wisconsin...
... Des Moines, Iowa...
You won't find anyone in the building better than me, so get ready, because Owen Sparks is coming!" Going off-script was not something Ian thought was necessarily okay, but Sexton managed to make it work every damn time. Ian leaned in to the camera.
"And I promise that it's a name you'll never forget."
"Cut! Owen, that was good. Thank you."
That was it. No big drama about going off-script? "I should do this more often." | Zachary Wake
"Anyone who is too nice cannot be trusted. I'll leave them writhing in my wake!"
6'3" - 264lbs | 10 Years of Experience
|Birth Name|
» Zachary Hanson
|Hails From|
» Melbourne, Australia
» April 25, 1988 (29)
|Fighting Style|
» Zachary is rather simple in fighting, as his character focuses more on his natural charisma and way with words. Think Bobby Roode. He uses all the easily identifiable moves, sans high-flying and acrobatic styles. He likes to trash talk while in submissions/rest holds, and enjoys playing with the crowd's emotions, sometimes letting the face seem like they're going to get off a big move and then striking with a low blow when the ref isn't looking. He doesn't mind playing dirty, as it is just a means to an end, the end being the AWE Championship.
|Signature Moves|
» Eye Gouge
» Rope Hung Forearms but with his opponent one the other side of the barricade so the crowd can watch up-close.
» Liontamer
» Stalled Suplex
|Finisher|
» Sitout Electric Chair Facebuster
» Electric Chair off of the Top Rope (For the big matches)
|Theme|
» Is this epic enough?
|Gimmick|
» Zachary's gimmick is that he is the dirty heel that the fans love to hate. His promo work after 10 years of experience leads to him being able to play with the crowd and improv when they start chanting something. He purposely riles them up by beginning every promo acting as a face would, then insulting his rival at the time, which easily gives him some heat.
|Face or Heel|
» Natural Heel
|Backstage Rep|
» Zack is a well-respected and valuable member of the backstage crew, not just because of his in-ring work, but from the years of respect he's gained helping out the back. Each night he gets in early, leaves late and makes sure everyone does their bit in helping the show run smoothly. Whenever he's got spare time he sits down with creative to see where they think his character should be headed, and always tries to help them decide on the best choice for Wake.
As such, Zack understands and is confident in the booking decisions in relation to his character, whether it be win, lose or draw. He's fine with helping the young ones get over, since he has been there, and will do everything in his power to help them succeed. Zachary cares deeply about the business, and it shows.
|Other|
» In his time Zachary has had many shots at the big one, the AWE Championship, but has always come up short in the big matches. The closest he got to officially owning the belt was when he knocked out the referee, allowing him to strike his then-rival Drayden down with weapons. However, the decision was reversed, causing quite the stir-up and made his and Drayden's rivalry all the better.
» Zachary is a former three-time AWE Intercontinental Champion, and all three of those runs were quite meaningful, helping Zachary ascend to the upper-midcard rather quickly. The last of these runs ended around 9 months ago, but all of them lasted over 3 months. Since then, Zachary has taken a bit more of a back seat, returning to the midcard, but still making (failed) attempts at championships every now and again. When he isn't being used in storylines or championship matches, Zachary is the perfect guy for a 3-Way/4-Way #1 Contender Match (Think of Sami Zayn/Baron Corbin, in this respect).
» Zachary also had an short stint as AWE Tag Team Champion in a time when the tag division was particularly weak, teaming with a rather eccentric fellow named Senji Veryhurt, a stereotypical strong style Japanese wrestler.
» Face Claim: Ryan Botha
» ff0000
Owen Sparks
"I'm the spark of light in the darkness. The AWE title is as good as mine!"
5'9" - 178lbs | 1 Year of Experience
|Birth Name|
» Ian Owen Hamilton
|Hails From|
» Cincinnati, Ohio
» September 14th, 1998 (19)
|Fighting Style|
» Since he really has only just begun, Owen hasn't developed a broad moveset, but is leaning towards a risk-taking grappler/high flier, with little time for technical/brawling styles. Owen isn't what one would call a polished or magnificent wrestler, but he shows promise in the moves he can do well. Before entering his angle with Zachary Wake, Owen was very much a "Five Moves of Doom" type wrestler, and since the story has started, Wake has been helping Owen to expand his moves.
|Signature Moves|
» Flying Cross Body
» Step-Up Enziguri (Usually as the opponent is standing on a turnbuckle)
» Bridging German Suplex (To pin)
» Still growing, so a fourth move will come eventually.
|Finisher|
» Shocker (Monkey Flip into Crossface)
» Sparkling Brilliance (Swinging Backbreaker into Standing Backsault)
|Theme|
» Mmm, Electric Guitars
|Gimmick|
» Owen is the happy-go-lucky new babyface, both in-character and out, really. He is excited to be wrestling in any promotion, and shows great promise. He adds a new move to his arsenal every match, and is meant to portray a growing and changing wrestler-in-training. However, though he is a face, Sparks has recently become the apprentice to Zachary Wake, a heel who doesn't mind cheating to win. And it seems like Owen may soon adopt his teacher's philosophy in an attempt to stop his shaky win:loss ratio.
He's still developing his skills on the mic, but like all young wrestlers, he has some semblance of a natural charisma that is being pushed to be honed through promos either just before or after his matches.
|Face or Heel|
» Babyface
|Backstage Rep|
» Since he is relatively new to AWE Ian hasn't build himself a reputation quite yet. As such, only a few wrestlers really know Ian, and can put up with his slightly cocky attitude. He knows he isn't the best as that is just ignorant, but knows that he was picked up by AWE after only 1 year in the business meaning that the scouters either overestimated his talents, or they know that he has a lot of room to grow. Ian likes to believe it's the latter.
Regardless of wrestling talent, Ian is loyal to his close buddies, and is constantly trying to improve himself - both physically and mentally - through the help of those friends. He recognizes that there is a lot to be improved about himself, but can't pinpoint those problems by himself. As such, he often finds himself being arrogant to others, and potentially racist at times if he isn't careful.
Despite these flaws, there's a reason Ian nails the happy-go-lucky gimmick: It still comes to him naturally.
|Other|
» Owen Sparks is currently participating in an angle/feud with Zachary Wake in an attempt to help get Owen over with the crowd, by having Owen have a moral conflict between doing what's right, and doing what needs to be done for him to win. Zachary is trying to persuade Owen to cheat so he can get his wins up.
» Nickname(s): The Spark of Brilliance
» Face Claim: George Blagden
» DAA520 |
49,045 | 1,324 | 18 | 1,435 | 3,654 | Collab with:
Throughout the entire show, Trinity couldn’t help but eye the donuts at the catering table. No, she needed to be good. This show in particular was a bittersweet one because it started off with Drayden having to step aside, letting go of the title, breaking fans’ hearts, but he had to do what he had to do. Her boyfriend’s favorite wrestler, and also her sister’s, for different reasons, was the one who led to this story arc (or was it the end of Drayden’s reigning arc) in the AWE. Caiden Winters promised the audience that Drayden wouldn’t make it out the arena on his own two feet at Judgement Day and now Drayden was forced to ‘get some rest’ tonight on Shock N AWE. Focusing her attention on the screen and not the food nearby, such a cruel world, she took mental notes of all the matches, especially the women’s match. Not one to have hostile feelings toward anyone, it takes a lot for her to genuinely hate someone, Trinity intently watched the girls fight, ultimately in admiration and respect. They earned their place there. She could only hope that one day she would join in on the madness that was the Women’s Division.
Liking to think she was good at multitasking, Trinity continuously updated her social media accounts throughout the show, specifically her Twitter account since it was faster and her fans enjoyed her constant spamming silliness. Her social media accounts were probably more active than most of the other wrestlers… habits. SHE HAD HABITS. The internet was a fun place where you could gain traction, fast. The web was her oyster! And her place to give her fans a glimpse of a day in the life of Trinity.
Trinity Ryder
@TrinityAWE
Don't lose the fire in your soul! Tune into #ShockNAWE right now on #USANetwork
Trinity Ryder
@TrinityAWE
I think they need donuts in their lives... don't you? #AWEDivas #DRAMA #Donuts5lyfe
Trinity Ryder
@TrinityAWE
You caught me. I want donuts.
In time, she befriended the adorable wrestler Shay Lee, who was pretty fresh in the AWE business like her. Though, their stories of how they got there were a bit different and Trinity was known at the AWE even before she decided to go full fledged professional wrestler. Well, wrestler. She was working on becoming a professional like her daddy and brother. Shay Lee was quick to learn that Trinity marked out at nearly… everything she saw that would easily wow an audience. She got extremely into each match and interview, her expressions reacted accordingly when there was an impressive move that would cause a proper geek reaction.
Wrestling was amazing.
Don’t even get her started with the Caiden Winters and Zachary Wake match. That one made her stomach curl from the pure intensity. That being said, Trinity couldn’t help but look over at Joy and give a smug look. Her sister was such a fangirl cutie. When the match came to a close and Joy had to rush to host AFTERSHOCK, Trinity pranced toward Duncan, taking Shay Lee with her, since they were buds now, it was decided, and happily waved at the boy that was with Joy not too long ago, “Sis said sorry she didn’t give you a proper intro with me. By the time you guys got over here, the show already started and that’s never a good time to have a meet and greet. Especially since she needed to mark out! Hi. I’m Trinity. This is my new friend, Shay Lee, a.k.a. Kitsune, it’s nice to actually talk to you! Rather than look from afar and be like WOAH, HE’S SO COOL.”
Throughout watching the rest of the show, Duncan gladly watched the screen, not only appreciating the work put in but also any kind of tricks he could get out of it. Always new things to learn. Something Duncan wouldn’t forget from his time at BFC, British Fighting Central. The place that started it all for Chaos Clayton. It was funny, Duncan had originally started of as a face with a practical joker gimmick, but it got old fast. For the crowd and Duncan himself. Duncan wanted more than being a comedic relief in a roster. His attention was sooned turned to the two freshest female wrestlers in the AWE Women’s Division. It was a shame he had to miss the second half of the tag team match and prep for the match with Razor. At least he got to see the main event though. Zachary and Caiden can always put on a belter of a show. He beamed at the two, and chuckled at Trinity’s enthusiastic greeting.
“Thanks, I guess. You don’t have to compliment me like that. My head will get too big.” He joked as he crossed his arms. “So you’re the two new women wrestlers then? I need to catch up on some of your matches in that case. You guys enjoyed the matches? Competition in that ring looked pretty strong from what I saw with the other girls.” Duncan asked inquisitively. After all, Joy did say that Trinity might be on the lookout for pointers. It was nice getting to meet other talent in person. Sometimes it’s so hard to interact when the schedule is busy and you’re moving from venue to venue in a country that’s forty times bigger than your own country.
Manami was LOVING being here and watching the show. Seeing how different everything was here as opposed to in Japan. Before the show started officially, Manami had a dark match against a local competitor in order to gauge the crowd's interest in her. The crowd cheered heavily during the match and all it did was make her more hyped to watch the show. She purposefully didn’t look at anything to do with the card so that she wouldn’t expect anything as it happened. Every match had different things she was excited about.
For the divas tag match she payed close attention to Tsunami. Once she figured out that talking to the writing team about their thoughts was not only allowed but encouraged, she started talking to them about either putting her in a rivalry with Tsunami or put the two into an alliance. Manami thought that the two characters could go a long way to bring more Japanese viewers in. She loved the Chaos Clayton Vs. Razorblade match because she really enjoyed watching the quick, high-intensity that wrestlers like them tended to put on. It caused her to contemplate adding more highflying moves into her repertoire because of how the moves looked. The main event caused her to be extra tense due to Caiden Winters being someone that she looked up to. He had been a major talent in Japan, he was a friend, and Manami believes the only reason she is even here is because of his recommendation. She felt rightly angry that someone would DARE to cheat to get one over on Caiden. Let alone that person be Zachary Wake. It’s not that she hated the character or the person, but it just showed that he was good at playing heel.
When Trinity started walking over towards Duncan, Manami quickly picked up a donut. She hadn’t been able to take her eyes off the screen long enough to grab food and she was hungry. She payed attention as she ate the delectable treat. She could understand English just fine. It was speaking and reading it that she had difficulty with. When she was in school she neglected a lot of her studies in order to train. English took the biggest hit because of how much harder it was than everything else. Speaking slowly she said, “A pleasure to meet you. My name is actually Manami Hayashi. Your match was-” She started searching for the word excellent, but couldn’t remember if it was the right one. “Better than good. You did amazing. Oh, I can’t wait for my debut.”
While Manami talked, Trinity eyed her donut. Such a cruel world. Why did she have to choose to be good today? That’s because donuts go straight to your ass. It was a tragedy that her favorite sweet in the world were deep-fried, ring shaped, potentially filled, potentially decorated, absolute goodness. Sighing heavily but keeping a bright smile on her face, she grinned at Duncan, “I would be disappointed if competition wasn’t strong. Gives me more to fight for and well... against! They’re all very talented, like Rosado’s Rolling Wheel Kick was flawless and she landed on her feet effortlessly.”
She was silent for a second before she decided to cave in and get a donut, specially a French Cruller, her favorite. “‘Cuse me one sec.” with that Trinity pranced to the table, pulled a paper towel off the roll, and grabbed one… no two… okay maybe three donuts. A good reason to do this was because: Wade loved her ass, so having a big ass wasn’t bad! Also, she couldn’t help it. SHE WANTED IT.
When she returned back to her coworkers, she started leading the way and gesturing for them to walk and talk - might as well head to the party bus early, she could always watch AFTERSHOCK later on Wade’s laptop. “My biggest thing is I want the crowd to love me. All of you are so good at getting the crowd worked up. I want that. When I cry, I want them to empathize with me. When I’m thrown off ring, I want them to cheer me on when I get up. I think I’m doing good so far, but I’m worried the other girls will overshadow me.”
Duncan smiled at Manami. “I can’t wait for your debut! First impressions are important, crowd’s gonna love you!” He replied happily. Duncan relished every moment he was wrestling, training for wrestling, or talking about wrestling. These were the conversations that Duncan loved. “You nail it the first time, which I’m sure you will, then you’ve got an awesome career to come.” He added. His attention was then turned to Trinity when she returned with a trio of donuts. He winced at thinking about the calories, but decided he’d get something to eat later. Probably on the infamous AWE “Party Bus”.
“Keep going the way you’re going, Trin, and I think you’ll get there. The difficulty is the reason you’re working the crowd for. Take Razorblade for example. Yeah, I beat him, but he works in that underdog gimmick so well that the crowd wants him to come back stronger and better.” Duncan explained as the three wrestlers walked. “And that’s what I think about every time the crowd is watching. Why do I want them to react the way I want them to?”
Pulling a Joy on Duncan, Trinity raised an eyebrow, finished chewing her recent bite of donut, and quizzically asked, “Why do you want them to react the way you want them to? What about your gimmick makes you think 1) the crowd is going to love it, even if in a spiteful manner and 2) this is what you want to do? Duncan IS Chaos Clayton.”
Manami wanted to hear Duncan’s answer to this as well. In Japan her gimmick had been somewhat barebones and not well thought through until near the end of her time there. She still had a LOT to learn when it came to using words to get the crowd behind her. She was also very worried that with her difficulties with English that the crowd wouldn’t pay any attention to what she had to say. So, getting advice from an amazing mic worker would hopefully help her to get passed her difficulties and present the crowd with more of a reason as opposed to just pointless verbiage.
Duncan smiled slyly and put his skull mask up. “For me, that’s easy. I want people to revel in the chaos I bring. I want to convey just how much I love to destroy and how only true anarchy is the way forward.” Duncan said under the Clayton persona. “And if they turn on me when I dismantle all those they hold upon podiums, then I shall let those podiums topple upon them too.” With that, he put his mask back down. “People love Clayton because he represents the absolute antithesis of order. A rebel character. That’s why I love being him. I’m allowed such free will with the role. Savaka, in my opinion, has been struggling lately with a limiting persona, even if his wrestling makes up for some of it.” Duncan said quite honestly. Duncan wasn’t one to dance around a subject, but the difference is he will happily go out and help.
That was SOO COOL. Manami always loved seeing these characters being portrayed and getting to see it up close was even better. She decided that it’d be best to ask her question now, “I was wondering what you’d think the best way to get around my talking issues to get across a meaning that the fans want to hear me.”
Duncan was silent in thought for a moment. “Yeah, English is tough to learn, especially when we’re on the road most of the time. I would suggest being very clear and particular with your word choice…” He said, translating from thoughts straight to mouth. “Oh yeah! Confidence!” He suddenly exclaimed, clapping his hands together. “You just gotta go out there and say every word with conviction and confidence.”
“Yeah, I agree. You don’t even need to be a wordsmith. I sure as hell am not! I could never be my sister, but the one thing I try to never forget is who I am and what I stand for. Lemme see if I can give you an example… Caiden Winters! What is the one thing people remember from him? When he says: You’re dead.” Trinity paused and let the word ‘dead’ fill the air, with a similar amount of heaviness that Caiden gives it, before continuing, “Short phrase that speaks volumes, especially with the way he says it. Certain. Rageful. And that’s even given him an awesome crowd chant too. Caiden’s gonna kill you! Caiden’s gonna kill you!”
Taking a moment to take another bite of her much needed donut, she smiled at Manami, “But most importantly, stay true to yourself. Let your personality shine through. That’s what my brother tells me all the time. If my goal is to be loved, make them love the real me.”
Manami listened to what the two had to say. She was grateful that people would try to help her figure things out. She made sure that she would remember what they said the next time she practices her promos. “Arigatou gozaimasu. I’ll make sure I use your advice to do better.”
It didn’t take them much longer to find the ‘party bus’. The 2-Story motorhome was extremely hard to miss, especially now that it was pulled up in the back parking lot, behind the arena. 53ft long, 30-ton luxury home away from home. A mobile estate for comfort to ease the constant traveling that their job demanded. The bus itself use to never be like this… extremely massive and unnecessarily excessive, especially since it was meant for one man, the voice of AWE, Wade Palmer. But then Trinity, who is the baby of the Ryder family (giving her princess tendencies), convinced Wade to expand his trailer, for the sake of wrestlers having an option of traveling together in comfort, while potentially making memories. If there was something she loved about being a wrestler, it was the community of people that all worked together for a common goal.
Being a wrestler was not a job, it was a lifestyle and everyone felt like a family. Her family. A dysfunctional family, but a family nevertheless. A professional wrestler must make sacrifices, from their loved ones back at their hometown to their health, while putting their lives on the line just to hear the crowd roar. It’s not easy finding an ‘in’ with a company like AWE.
A wrestler, with the odds always against them, could only hope to perform at AWE Starccade, but once the passion, the courage, and the desperateness to become something more than he or she thought they could ever be, shines through… a wrestler could make it to the big leagues. Something they might have always dreamed of… or something they started to dream about when they saw that they had potential in the business. That they were worth the stardom, even if they knew the journey was the most physically and psychologically draining rides in the world.
Half of their lives is in the ring, the other half is traveling. A wrestler signs up for injuries, aches, strife, blood, sweat, but if they want this, truly, deeply want this, they must keep their head in the game and steer their career in the direction where they’ll be a legend forever. With dignity and passion, perhaps they can be.
“We’re here~!!” | I see you!
The best things in life are dangerous, like me.
5' ¾", 106 lbs - 5'8", 135 lbs
2 years Developmental, will debut soon with her husband
3 Years at AWE, 2 years at Developmental. 5 years total.
|Birth Name |
» Alice Jane Slayer (Kennedy)
» Ariel Michelle Slayer (Flanagan)
|Hails From |
» Atlanta, GA
» April 17 (26)
» October 22 (23)
|Backstage Rep |
» You got all these sweethearts dressed as bitches, guess what? Ari is a fucking bitch on and off the ring. She does not like you. It takes her a LONG time to accept you into her world because your flaws are blaring red and she fucking hates it. Some people do not get the concept of personal space. If she's doing her own thing, don't interrupt her. She enjoys dark humor, other people's drama, and crude people. Constantly observing her surroundings, she will size you up before you approach her. Ruthless. Entitled. & Impatient. She was never fond of dealing with people, which is honestly her biggest weakness on the ring. Charisma, that is. It isn't something that comes naturally to her like it does for her little sister.
As flawed as Ari is, those she does let in, like her husband, Michael Flanagan, know that she does mean well, but due to personal experiences, her built mechanism of verbally lashing out at people to protect her own, has gotten to a point where she can't really break it down over night. Ari is a tough cookie and audaciously bold. A risk taker, through and through. A primadonna is an understatement of her personality and Ari refuses to be considered less than. She aims to be in the big leagues, even if it means she might break a few bones...
You see, she and Michael were already dating prior to their debut at AWE, which was near the same time. It wasn't hard for him to gain attraction because even if he leans more on the timid side when he's out of character, he's a phenomenal heel and it shined through since day 1. Ari, however, spent her first two years figuring out her image. She was simply a blank canvas, a doll of a woman, and a temperamental wrestler, who fought well enough to get her to the mid card but required A LOT of polishing, as she tried her downright best to 'find herself' in the ring.
A year ago, Michael and her got married, and for a year, the writers have been pushing her more toward his storyline to enhance his biker boy look and guess what? It's working. People are starting to see the character behind the bitch. While Ajax is the tail gunner of his motorcycle gang, Fallen Angels, she is his queen. The Bonnie to his Clyde, who knows her way around her gun, or in this case the ring, and isn't afraid to use that to her advantage. She's a tough-talking, quick-shooting criminal and is growing to be a machine gun-blazing woman who you better not underestimate. Whenever she's threatened, she doesn't even flinch, she jumps right in and marks her territory. Fearless and it's all thanks to the writers pushing her more in the direction of the rebel girl archetype because it's something Ariel can actually relate to.
Fun fact: She isn't fond of motorcycles, but for love, she'll get on one.
» Amore hasn't debuted yet, but her face is known backstage because of her sister. The young, energetic valet aspires to be as influential as Jezebel (FC: Jessa Hinton), who was the Faceless' on-screen eye candy and eventual wife. Jezebel may have made the Faceless seem more humane, but Amore? She wants to do more than be an accessory for her love. Revolutionize the role of valets all over! At the root of it all, Alice is a business woman, who doesn't just want to 'accompany' her husband when she's on the ring with him. She wants to get heavily involved in the action inside, outside, within the audience-- ANYWHERE. A dreamer, the doll aims to earn the loudest pops of the night. Her beloved Benjamin tells her she has a niche and that is her charisma. Her stage presence. When Amore is in the spotlight, there is no doubt people will be starstruck.
Sneaky, cunning, and without hesitation, Amore will do absolutely anything for Mordecai to heighten his chances of winning. It helps that she has one sexy act that no one can top. Rated R, sexy-goodness. She acts like a child, but moves her body like a woman. Her influence is undeniable and even if wrestling isn't her top skill (it's singing and acting), she will go down in history!
As for backstage? A lovable, naive, playful and misleading young adult. Careless and foolish. Accidental prone when she isn't performing. Alice doesn't want to grow up, so she'll act far younger than she is. Oh, and she's scary possessive over her husband.
|Other |
» FCs: Kerli Kõiv & Jana
» 721728 & 324C83
|Fighting Style |
» Ari keeps you on your toes, you never know what to expect and has a passion for power. Known for her agility, high stunts, and her attitude, Ari, from the get go, set her sight on cleaning up the Divas division, showing that girls were more than accessories and tools. Even her sister, who does strut her body like it's nobody's business, isn't just that. A body. Amore is a character, whose insanity and giggles will be what the people remember. Psychotic little girl trapped in a woman's form.
Meanwhile, Ari has commitment to excellence and wants to be recognized as a professional wrestler, with Ajax by her side. Her goal: to be one of the most vicious Divas of her era. She doesn't even have to be one of the stars, she just wants to be scary. Although she isn't there yet, she will continue to work her ass off. Her current success is all thanks to her athleticism, hotheaded personality, impressive arsenal of offensive maneuvers, and her husband's biker persona.
Ari has countless ways of finishing her opponents and she will not give into status quo. A true queen of the rebels.
|Signature Moves |
» Highside (Diving Hurricanrana)
» Ari Bomb (Lita Bomb)
» Eating Asphalt (Swanton Bomb)
» Helmet Head (Hardiac Arrest)
|Finisher |
» Boneyard Moonsault (Moonsault)
» New Prime (Widow's Peak)
|Theme |
» Whatever she had before, doesn't matter. Now she has Superhuman to match Ajax.
|Gimmick |
» As said earlier in backstage rep, Ari is Ax's Bonnie to his Clyde. His ride or die. They have a fiery dynamic and shower each other with attention. They are motivated by chasing the danger, excitement, and action of wrestling. He's the gun, she's the trigger. If Ari isn't happy, Ajax is pissed. He might be the King of the Hill but without his queen, the high of living it dangerous 24/7 isn't as addicting. They're into each other in a visceral and physical way. There is a sense of co-dependency and downright bat-shit insanity between these two. Ariel even went out of her way to get 'His' tattoo on her lower back, to match Michael's "Hers" tattoo on his arm, to add to their act (when he wraps his arm around her, the audience would know - she belongs to him). A psychotic and possessive love story where their need for one another is absolutely dangerous for anyone, including each other.
Soon enough, the audience will learn crazy runs in the Slayer family because when Amore makes her debut, they'll see that the blonde is light years ahead in the insanity department.
As for fashion sense? Ari is a daredevil biker chick. Leather jacket with the Fallen Angels symbol, bustiers to showcase her stomach and her back (especially when her coat is off), leather boots, denim, the color scheme black and white, bandannas, anything really that makes her look like a total badass.
|Face or Heel |
» Heel
|Job at AWE |
» Amore will be a valet for Mordecai, who is her husband off screen.
|Skills |
» Persistent and high physical stamina
Charming and full of energy, Alice is an energetic doer, cheerful and extremely spontaneous. A true woman of action. Even if she doesn't seem it, she has strong observational skills and a keen sense to other people's feelings. Quite the problem solver, regardless of her outlandish methods. This spirited blonde would like to think she's an excellent diplomat and negotiator, especially when it comes to her pitching ideas. By nature, she's too open and direct to deliberately manipulate someone (lies and manipulation is foreign to her, unless it's for an act), but she will fight her cause until there isn't any fight left in her.
» Improviser
Perceptive, witty, and clever. Rarely missing anything that is important, because she approaches everything with curiosity and interest, Alice will take impossible situations and make 'em great. Her memory for details and facts are impressive. She absorbs everything that interests her like a sponge, storing it in her noggin for later use.
» Dancing, acting, and gymnastic experience.
Pretty point blank, Alice kept her family busy by getting them to sign her up to as much as possible so she can get better at... life. Also, with such a busy schedule when she was younger, she didn't need to be home, which was a far more pleasant option than dealing with the turmoil. Her home life drew her insane. Convincing her parents to get her involved in the community was the easy part, making them part of it, her life, though? Not so much.
» Odd & blessed with boundless creativity
Alice has always been a little weirdo. Too much individuality for one girl. And yet, she doesn't know how to be any different. Sure, some of her creative ideas are concerning and creepy, but why should she limit herself? If her mind wants to run rampant, it should! Being different isn't a bad thing and Alice will never change for anyone.
|Looks & Style |
» Inspired by her aunt, who led a broken family with dignity and grace, Amore strives to be a visual masterpiece. Her aunt was a woman who carried whatever she wore like a queen. A queen who had an undeniable ability to live a life of pure kindness. Alice's goal, no matter where she is, or if she's being Amore or not, is to make her image timeless. Definitive and iconic, to where it is her trademark. Her look. A look that pushes boundaries and continues to evolve. Alice wants to be a trend setter, a walking fashion statement, and when people look at their television screen or see her on the ring, she wants them to recognize her immediately and maybe, just maybe, follow her as an example. If she can aspire others to walk with an air of confidence, loving who they were, while also not being afraid to explore out of the box, then her life would be more than fulfilled.
What more could you ask for? She's happily married, she has endless projects that make her smile, she's about to start the career of her life that will hopefully set her on a remarkable path of happiness and success, and if she's able to move someone or an entire audience in ways not many people can, then she can say she is more than satisfied with the life she's been given.
Hardships aside. Alice is a happy girl.
|Personality Traits |
» Visionary → Imaginative → Fun-Loving → Gregarious → Persistent → Dutiful (even if she is unbeknownst to the fact that she's a tease) → Exuberant → Trusting → Picky → Dependent → Reckless → Fearful (primarily of her husband leaving her)
|Favorite wrestler |
» She's biased. Her husband, even if he hasn't made his mark yet. Alice will make it known that he's HER favorite. |
49,046 | 1,324 | 19 | 2,573 | 1,662 | &
Location: God’s office
Collab with:
Roddy nodded from his seat behind the desk, in the big chair. Big chair for the true king of AWE, the lord of the house that he built. Sure, there were writers, but they still had to get their ideas and plans approved by him; he just happened to trust them. “Of course, Gethin. I’m happy to talk to everyone, as long as we have time. Shut the door if you don’t mind. What do you want to talk about?” Roddy asked the Welshman.
Gethin had of course had previous conversations with Roddy, the one they had when he first signed with AWE being one that was pretty prominent in his mind. Still this one seemed slightly different, he wasn’t exactly sure how to approach it. In that case the only way he could approach it was head on, just like he did with all of his matches. "Well sir, I just wanted to talk about the tournament. The brackets in particular. I wanted to know...well why exactly you have me winning the title?" The Welsh Dragon took a seat opposite the boss man and interlocked his fingers upon his lap. "And please don’t misunderstand, I am very proud that you’d think of me and I’m more than willing to carry it, I was just curious as to the method behind it really."
“Well, the truth is I really just kind of think you’re a badass. We were going to put the strap on you sooner or later, probably off of Drayden himself, but this is just as well. I won’t take all the credit, this isn’t all my planning, it’s mostly the writing team, good bunch of people those are. Anyway, the plan is to give you a nice run with the title — ‘bout three, or four months. You’re gonna brutalize everything. And during this time, simultaneously, Caiden Winters — that boy everyone seems to like — is gonna be on a run with Intercontinental title, Savaka hasn’t had the best run, but I felt he deserved it after years of dedication. Caiden though, he’s gonna make that belt look like the fuckin’ Holy Grail. And then, once the stars have aligned and everything’s alright, he’s gonna willingly give up the belt, which he’s threatening to leave the company with, in return for a championship match with you. Which, I’ll agree to, since you’re a killer and I know you’ll do nothing other than put your hands on the number one contender and brutalize him, victimize him, and get him out of my hair. But Caiden’s going over. Trust me, it all spins together into a big story. It’s crazy how they do that, I never thought of that myself. Making everything connect and flow decently, it’s different than how I did it back in my day, but times are changin’ I guess. Anyway, point is, you’re gonna help make Caiden Winters’s the biggest fuckin’ star in this business. By fighting him. We have a plan for that match, it’s coming together slowly, but we’ll wait till we get closer to let you know all the nitty gritty details. Any questions?”
The Brutal Artist sat intently listening to Roddy as he laid out the plan for what was going to happen. At least he knew that he wasn’t going to be a paper champion and that he would get to keep his heat. Gethin had been building a solid level since his debut and now he would get to see it flourish. Losing to Caiden and putting him over was no big issue for the best damn striker in the game today, in fact he was all for it. Gethin had watched AWE whilst he was in Japan and believed that Caiden did deserve a title run, he had worked hard and it was owed to him after all that dedication. He had to hide his smile from the boss as to not let on a feeling of giddiness that building inside. Not only was Roddy singing his praise but Gethin was going to get to work with some of the best in the business and this was what he was in it for; the competition. "You can trust me, sir. Thank you for giving me this opportunity. I know I haven’t always been an AWE guy but I promise, I’m a company man. I’ll do whatever you ask."
“After the feud, we’ll all be better off, trust me. You’ll both look like shining stars, and once you see what I’ve got brewing for you… you might just cry from happiness.” Yes, Roderick was having ‘ideas’ again. That’s what happens when rich people are allowed to frankly do whatever they want and broadcast it on live television. “If all goes well, you won’t ever need to hold a belt again to seem like a big deal. Also, the upcoming tour, after you win the title. We’re going through the UK and parts of Europe. So that ought to be fun for you, yeah?” The old man grinned at the young star in the room with him, knowing full well that Gethin would get cheered no matter where they went in that part of the world. But, it was all part of the plan.
"It would definitely nice to go home again. I haven’t been back in nearly a year. Not since a brief stop over to get my visa to come work for you." It would absolutely be great to go home again and enjoy the adulation of his countrymen and women. AWE would finally have a decent European presence and that was something to be proud of. He smiled and bowed his head slightly towards Roddy. "I can’t wait to see what you’ve all cooked up for me, I’ll do my best to make you proud sir." Gethin was relieved to have heard how Roddy thought of him. He was worried when he first signed with the company whether or not they would know what to do with him. In Japan he was a big deal, maybe the biggest gaijin of the modern era. Coming to AWE, he was worried they might destroy the character he had built but no, they let him keep it which was amazing. He was worried that his sexuality would be a big deal, it wasn’t. AWE was a big risk and it was finally paying off.
“All I ask is that when the time comes, you and Winters go out there, beat the living shit out of each other, come back here, get your checks, cash ‘em, and buy each other a beer. This place fuckin’ sucked when everyone hated each other backstage and on it.” Roddy, as the founder of the company, had never fully understood why people backstage got in such heated fights and arguments and why there was so much… hatred. Nowadays, this new, younger generation… they were different. Louder than what he was used to, and they did some weird shit, but… they all seemed to be friends, and as a result, less people got hurt. It was nice, took a lot of weight off of him
"I’ll buy him more than one sir but that’s it. Can’t break character." He let out a light chuckle. "Thank you for taking the time to talk to me, Mr Quinn. I suppose I better get a move on, we have another town to get to." Getting to his feet, Gethin offered his hand to shake with the king of wrestling. "See you at the next shot, sir." With that, the Brutal Artist turned and headed out of the office and back towards the locker room to grab his gear. The house show circuit awaits! By the time he had gotten all of his gear, the show had all but ended and crew were starting to pack up. He made his way to the car park to find the rent-a-car he had booked for the evening. He often travelled alone, somewhat by choice to protect his character but even still. it did get lonely sometimes. | Daniel “DC” “Don’t Call Me Danny” “Danny” “Danny Church” Church
6’ - 184 lbs | 12
|Birth Name |
» Daniel Church
|Hails From |
» Sacramento, California
» October 9th, 1985 (31)
|Job at AWE |
» He does not work at AWE. However, he is often at their events and is friends with more than a few wrestlers and backstage employees. He is a wrestling journalist and posts stories as they come and go, and reviews the shows and matches. He reacts accordingly based on how he feels the company is performing, and has no qualms calling out a wrestler or wrestlers for having a shit match, cutting a shit promo, or calling out the powers that be for making their fucking look like goddamn geeks.
|Skills |
» Smooth talking
» Tech savvy
» Dadskills
» Radio host-esque silky smooth voice
» Good at ranting
|Reason for being here |
» When he was younger, in 2001, Daniel Church had a brilliant idea in his school computers class: he’d build a fucking website. Now, the first thing you had to do when building a website, was pick something you were passionate about… at the time, Danny Church was only really passionate about one thing: PROFESSIONAL WRESTLING. Even at the young age of fifteen, DC had a brilliant mind for coding and built a website that was grand, even for the times. It gained a following, and the forums on it exploded in popularity as the tape traders and more hardcore fans finally found a place to talk and get their opinions out there.
The Smark Remark, the website is known as, and it’s only grown since its original inception in mid-2001. Danny made friends with the right people, and after high school, he passed the day-to-day management of the website over to a team of administrators and moderators. The man himself began a focus on the content creation for the website. He hosted podcasts with wrestlers from all over the world, and he began to rate matches.
Every show he saw, either live or on a tape he bought, he rated the match. Over time, his ratings and opinions got a little controversial, with people arguing about whether he was right or wrong, but he there was one thing they agreed on: he was consistent. He also wrote reports on rumors that he heard, and posted opinions and frequently participated in conversations on the message boards.
Four years after graduating, when Danny was 22, his then girlfriend, Clarissa Whitaker, gave birth to his two beautiful children. Twins, a boy and a girl. Robert and Cynthia, Bobby and Cyn. His babies and his life — other than work. They are turning ten in January of next year, and attend an online school to make it easier on Daniel to travel around for his job. They haven’t seen their mother since they were two; as it turns out, their mother was… crazy, to say the least. After Daniel discovered her drug habits and realized she was a poison in his life, he cut her out and got full custody of his children.
Since then, the single dad life has been the life for him. Working and taking care of two rascals isn’t exactly the easiest lot in life, but… he makes it work. When he was called up by Walter Durrel, who proposed combining their two mediums a few years ago, DC jumped on the opportunity. Together now, they put out podcasts reviewing AWE mostly, as that’s Walter’s preferred company. In return, Danny Church offers the Smark Remark’s website as a new home for the Wrestling Journal. They make a surprisingly good team so far.
|Looks & Style |
» Decked out from head to toe in wrestling gear, Danny doesn’t give a FUCK about how people think of him in public. He’s a hardworking single father, get bent. He’ll sometimes match or contradict his children when they go to the shows — both of his kids are huge fans too.
|Personality Traits |
» Danny is brutal and quick to be critical. He doesn’t listen to the reasons for things sucking and just accepts that they suck. If a wrestler isn’t working at their full capacity because of injuries? Whatever, stop fucking working. Utilize your roster, people.
He’s fun to talk to, and is good at telling stories and ranting and making other people who agree with him happy. He often gets into long winded debates on his podcast with Walter, but as a person Danny honestly looks forward to it every night.
Deep down, he’s just a mark, dude. He loves wrestling, everything about it from the ground up is amazing, and he can’t get enough. The fact that he built something great out of his love for wrestling amazes him to this day, and the Smark Remark is his baby. He enjoys posting on the message boards to this day, and recording the weekly podcasts is something he lovingly looks forward to every day.
It’s his second baby, the thing he loves most right behind his children.
|Favorite wrestler |
» Caiden goddamn fucking Winters, fuck you Roddy for burying the best wrestler to ever grace this goddamn planet. And Retribution. Excited for him to come, which I'M SURE HE'LL DO EVENTUALLY ONCE RODERICK QUINN PULLS HIS HEAD OUT OF HIS FUCKING ASS. Gethin's a personal favorite too, at least he gets used properly by those idiots.
And fuck you Drayden, I bet you encouraged that shit, didn’t you? Gotta GO OVER EVERYONE. Asshole. And of course, my fucking kid loves you so I have all that stupid merchandise in my fucking HOUSE.
Trinity’s cool too.
And Morgana.
What? I can’t hate the kids’s favorites, I’d be an asshole.
Except for Drayden. Fuck you. And fuck your stupid fat head wall stickers, now you’re stuck to the goddamn wall behind my FUCKING COUCH.
|Rep at AWE |
» Honestly, most people at the AWE don’t really like him. Daniel is loud, brash, and he doesn’t care about calling them out if they do something stupid. If you botch one goddamn move you better believe DC will roast the fuck out of you. You lose a match looking like a geek and hate it? Too goddamn bad, Danny Church knows full well you’re a NERD and you’ll never live it down.
But, he’s undeniably good at the job, and they actually take his ratings seriously. The few wrestlers that Danny fanboys about are quite fond of him, and he does a good podcast that wrestlers try to take advantage of. It can just be hard to deal with someone that’s going to call out every little mistake you make, even when it’s more blamed on the booking team than yourself.
He also has a tendency to post rumors about who’s going to win or lose a match, and rarely checks the validity of his source. Unlike his partner, Walter, Daniel Church is not a journalist. He’s angry millennial who thinks Roderick Quinn is ruining his goddamn favorite thing by blowing Drayden and giving him everything he asks for.
This doesn’t stop every member of the locker room from obsessively checking his reviews, though. Even Roddy does it.
|Other |
» 16a064
» Jensen Ackles. |
49,047 | 1,324 | 20 | 2,573 | 1,662 | Drayden looked at one of the monitors nearby, displaying the camera as it panned over the crowd, as energetic as always. The show’s theme song blared over the speakers, and the camera panned to the commentary desk, where Wade Palmer was bouncing his head to the heavy bass riff as it faded away, and the crowd in attendance were left to their devices, screaming and cheering as Wade spoke into the headset to crowd back home.
“Ladies and gentlemen, children of all ages…. welcome to AWE Shock n’ Awe, the longest running weekly episodic television show in history. We are coming at you live from Chicago, Illinois, surrounded by thousands of the most passionate wrestling fans in the world, who are just as amped as you to hear what Drayden has to say after his legendary title defense against Caiden Winters at Judgement Day, a match which will be looked on in the years that follow as a classic one, ending when Drayden broke out a move that hasn’t seen the light of day since 2007, when Drayden used it to retire the legendary Blaze Pierson: a burning hammer.” Wade paused for a moment and smiled into the camera, winking his left eye at it. “Of course, I can confidently say that not a single one of you are more excited to hear what he has to say than me.”
Drayden’s music hit and the crowd naturally went nuts. Not only was this the MAN, this was their hometown hero. It was deafening and it didn’t die down, even as the music played and Drayden wasn’t there. He couldn’t bring himself to walk out quite yet, he was savoring the sweet, sweet crowd’s cheers one last time before it all went to shit.
Finally, he pushed his way past the curtain… and headed down to the ring, with a crutch underneath his left side, where his leg was injured. Drayden was limping, with the championship belt strapped around his waist. Man, this sucked. The crowd was just staring at him, the cheering ceased for a moment, before they all realized what was about to happen.
‘PLEASE DON’T GO’
‘PLEASE DON’T GO’
Believe me, I don’t want to go.
Drayden grumbled in his thoughts as he climbed up the stair and into the ring, hobbling over to the side of it and reaching out for a folding chair, which was handed to him. Drayden put the chair down in the center of the ring, then went back and reached out for a microphone. Then he sat down in the chair and let himself enjoy the atmosphere just a while longer.
‘PLEASE DON’T GO’
‘PLEASE DON’T GO’
Drayden finally pulled the microphone up to his lips. “Trust me, I don’t want to go anywhere, but all good things must come to an end. Unfortunately, it’s time for me to take a step back and get some rest. I was informed on Sunday, after my match with Caiden Winters, that I sustained a few… detrimental injuries, and that it was a miracle that my body lasted this long before giving out on me. I’m having surgery tomorrow, and then I’ll be out for… almost a year, they said.” Drayden paused for a second, looking down at the title belt that was now sitting in his lap: his legacy. As he said that he had to be gone, for that long, the crowd couldn’t help themselves: they booed.
“I know believe me, I know. Being gone that long is a joke. But I’ve been doing too much, too fast. I need to slow down and get some rest, unfortunately, or I can never wrestle again.” Drayden paused again, and the crowd cheered, before another… off the wall chant started.
’GET SOME REST’
‘GET SOME REST’
“Now you guys sound like my girlfriend.” Drayden said, and if the place had been deafening with cheers before, the same effect was happening now, though instead of cheers, it was loud and impassioned booing, drowning out almost anyone in the arena’s ability to think. If they loved Drayden, they hated Drayden’s slutty girlfriend who DIDN’T DESERVE IT even more. Barbie was a damn good heel. Drayden cracked a crooked smile, before speaking into the microphone. ”I should have expected that. Now, before I finish up here, I want to make sure that you guys know this isn’t good bye, this is just see you later.”
Drayden looked down at the title in his lap and rapped on it with his knuckles, “time to address this. I don’t know how many fans here in attendance, and how many at home know this but there’s a contractual obligation in all AWE contracts to defend a championship once every thirty days. Due to my injury, I won’t be able to do that. So… As of right now, I’m relinquishing the AWE World Championship.” He said, taking it off of his lap and slowly setting it down on the ground, “but I want whoever holds this next to know that you’re just keeping it warm for me. I’ll be back. And I’ll get my title back.”
’FUCK ‘EM UP, DRAYDEN, FUCK ‘EM UP’
‘FUCK ‘EM UP, DRAYDEN, FUCK ‘EM UP’
*NEW - PLEASE READ*
Drayden stood up from the chair that he sat in, leaving the title on the ground, and he used the crutches to carry himself up the ramp and to the backstage, showered in cheers as he went off screen. There was only a brief reprieve after he finally walked off stage, before the music for the king of the land hit, and Roddy Quinn himself stood at the top of the stage. The man listened to the reaction he got, before he smiled and headed down toward the stage and toward the AWE Championship, the iconic title that defined this business and frankly defined Roderick’s life.
He walked up the stairs and into the center of the ring, where he took a microphone from a nearby stage hand. “I know what you all are thinking. ‘What are they going to do about the championship?!’ ‘Will Roddy hand it to the person who deserves it the most?’” Roddy Quinn paused for a brief moment as the crowd began to excitedly chant. Roderick had seen this one coming a mile away…
’CAI-DEN WIN-TERS’
‘CAI-DEN WIN-TERS’
However, the boss was quick to shut those down: “Unfortunately, if you ask me, the only one worthy of holding this title, of holding this trophy that defines the dreams of thousands of professional wrestlers around the globe… has just left the arena. Without Drayden, there isn’t a single person on the roster that I would simply hand this to. No one has earned that right.” Roderick Quinn was showered in boos for shutting down the dream that the fans had of Caiden Winters being the champion. He shook his head as he felt the boos fall down around him, “Now I know you may think that you all know better, but what matters around here isn’t what you want, it’s what I want. Remember that now, or suffer for it later. I’m in charge here, I’m the boss, I’m the man and you pay to watch what I want you to watch. Now, about what I want to watch…”
What did the kids in the back call this? ‘Nuclear heat,’ he’d heard Kevin say. Even with the microphone, by the end of that little spiel, Roddy’s words could barely be heard over the boos that never seemed to stop, never seemed to tire. Roddy let them boo him for a while, even relished it — he was used to being cheered, but this was too easy. Maybe it was just Chicago, who knew? He was happy that he was going to be a prominent character for a few months, before he was gone forever, and he’d enjoy every second of it. Cheering or booing, it didn’t matter how they reacted as long as they reacted.
“What I want you to watch is a tournament, featuring all the prominent members of the roster. At Triple S, the Sin City Showdown in Las Vegas, Nevada at the T-Mobile Arena, the two men who make it to the finals will face off to crown a new champion. Good luck to everyone backstage.” Roddy bent down and picked up the title from the floor of the ring, throwing it over his shoulder. He went to put the microphone down as he prepared to leave the ring with the belt, but paused for a moment, having one last thing to say. “And yes, Caiden Winters will be in it. In fact, his tournament match will be tonight, against Zachary Wake, in your main event.”
The crowd exploded, and with the title over his shoulder, Roderick Quinn nodded to them, smiling slightly, the plan for the future of the heavyweight title being out there and open to the fans. Now, it just had to play out the way they wanted, and he had faith in his writers and his roster to put on the greatest show on earth, night in and night out.
“And remember. The entire world is watching.”
With that last statement, Roderick handed the mic off to a stagehand, and headed backstage with the prize that everyone would be vying for.
The tinkling notes of her theme song prepped Barbie for her entrance and she got in position to walk. The lights of the arena dimmed to near blackness as the intro played. When the first few notes of the song hit, the titantron lit up with her stage name “Barbie Summers” in thick, glittery pink script. The very edges of the screen were bordered with bright white circular lights, very reminiscent of old school movie theater signs, a hint at her Hollywood-sized dreams.
Dressed in a shiny spandex mockery of a purple and pink cheerleader’s uniform, Barbie strutted her stuff down the aisle. The crowd wasted no time greeting her with their usual chorus of boos. Barbie took it in stride, posing for photos and dancing to her theme as if she heard nothing at all. She was a star, and this aisle was her red carpet. Confetti cannons posted along both sides of the aisle blasted glittering gold and silver flecks into air to rain down upon the champion, and some lucky fans. Gold like the title at her waist, and silver like the crown on her head. How lovely.
Upon arriving to the ring, Barbie deftly jumped up to grab the second rope. Using her upper body and core strength, Barbie pulled herself up and pushed her feet forward so that she slid onto the canvas without touching the bottom rope, limbo style. She stood up from the entrance smoothly and did a quick princess wave to the left, and another to the right, before she made her way to the center of the ring.
In the middle of the ring stood an ostentatious, gaudy throne that was draped in silks and flowers to match her outfit. Barbie sat gently in the throne, stuck her nose up in the air, and held out her hand for the referee to place a microphone in. Once he did, Barbie grinned smugly at the crowd before beginning her monologue.
“You know, a girl like me has people… and my people have been telling me some very interesting things recently. Do you know what they’ve been saying to me?" she paused and awaited their response. They booed, naturally. Some even picked up their taunt about sucking Drayden - to which she did not respond to today, she was sticking to her own script, for once.
“I’ve heard that some of you have taken to calling me the Plastic Queen. And, you know?” Barbie mockingly put a hand to her chest as if she was overcome with emotion.
“You know, that is just so cute. Really, it’s quite amusing. Plastic is fake, I get it. How verrry clever. But let me set you straight here... just because I am something that none of you - or any of these other wrestlers - will ever be, doesn’t mean that I am not real. If being THE BEST female wrestler in AWE history makes me fake, then package me up and call me plastic, by all means. Plastic or not, though, you are absolutely right about one thing, Dolls, and that is that I. AM. QUEEN.” The blonde made a show of crossing her legs regally on the throne before toying at a rose petal with her left index finger. Her right hand still held the mic that she spoke into.
“And it has been a very big week for your Queen, in many ways. This week marks the 100 day anniversary of me driving the Evil Sorceress out of the kingdom, isn’t that wonderful? I have had over one hundred glorious, victorious days with this title. It should be a time of celebration for us! But… the festivities must wait, for our King...” Barbie frowned at the crowd, and there was a large part of Barbara frowning behind the character as well. This was a hard time for Drayden, and it broke her heart to see it.
“Our King has to go away for some time. So, my Dolls, it looks like it’s just going to be you and I for a while. While pretender kings may come and try to warm this throne in Drayden’s stead - I want you all to know that the TRUE ROYALS of AWE aren’t going anywhere. Drayden will be back and by my side once more."
Barbie's voice grew harsh and assertive now. “This is our kingdom, and I will continue to rule for the both of us. If anyone thinks they have a right to this throne, they can meet me in the ring where they will only end up bowing at me feet -- Long Live Queen B!”
After cutting her promo, Barbie slid through the ropes and gracefully hopped down from the apron. The ominous wind-chime-like notes of the intro to her power rock theme echoed through the arena. The chorus of boos surrounding her seemed to match the mood of the song; that was more than coincidental. Despite the open heat thrown at her, Barbie sauntered up the ramp towards backstage with the widest of smiles. She paused for a moment and cupped her right hand to her ear, as if they weren’t singing loud enough for her.
“What’s that, Dolls?” the blonde asked, referring to her anti-fans in her usual manner. She turned around and walked backwards up the ramp, holding her hands out in front of her and pulling her fingers towards herself and then away. and then back towards herself again - beckoning them to get louder. The crowd took the cue and booed loud enough to reach the rafters.
“Oh, you haven’t had enough of me, huh?’ Barbie taunted as the cameras panned in to get a better view of her smug grin. “Well, okay then,” she said and did a mock curtsy before the people and then pranced back down the aisle, towards the ring.
Sitting at the center of the desk, where he always did, Wade watched as the AWE Women’s Champion turned around and headed back toward the ring. “I guess… she’s not done yet? Must have a few more… choice words for the fans that are here tonight.” He commented, digging his fingers into the bag of Gummy Octopus in front of him, stuffing one into his mouth. The only way to stop from getting too hype, was to eat candy.
The Plastic Queen walked along the edge of the ring and blew a kiss towards the fans - wrestling fans, not necessarily her fans - on the right. Making her way to the announcer’s desk, Barbie ran a single index finger along the surface, like she was inspecting it for dust. She brought her hand up to get a better look, rubbed her thumb and index finger together, and then shrugged. The reigning diva hopped up onto the desk and planted her cheerleader-esque-skirted bottom right between Wade and Marcus.
“Mind if I join you boys?” Barbie asked, but didn’t wait for any response. Their opinions didn’t matter, a Queen needs no permissions to do as she pleases. She even went so far as to snatch a sugary sea creature from the baggie in front of Wade and took a slow, verging on lewd, bite of it. Chewing on the treat, Barbie turned to MarkyMark Granger and plucked the headset right off of his head.
“Thanks,” she said sarcastically and adjusted the headset so that it wouldn’t displace the small, glittery tiara that Tay had nestled in her blonde pile of curls earlier that day. Mark openly gawked at the entire display, obviously enamored by the sex appeal rolling off of her in waves. “Who do you think you are, looking at me like that? Have you seen my boyfriend?” she asked, catching him staring, and rolled her eyes dramatically.
Being the one with the faster quip, Kane Zimmerman, who leaned back in his chair like he had no care in the world, pulled his shades up and gazed upon the sexually attractive, yet gaudy, blonde. A smirk fell on his face before he chuckled, “Hey, B. If you don’t want to be looked at, maybe you should give up your title like your man was forced to do.” While bringing his chair down, he dug into his pant’s pocket and took out a container of orange tic tacs, Barbie scoffed, not even giving such a statement the time of day. “I’m mildly jealous you chose to sit there, instead of here.” He gestured toward the section between him and Wade and then poured the candy into his mouth. What a tease.
“Maybe if you knew your place, I would have, Kandy Kane.”
“Alright folks, it’s showwwtimmeee. We are starting off the night right with match number one being a women’s tag match. Let’s see who we’ve got coming in tonight, right here on AWE Shock N’ Awe” Marcus Granger announced just moments before the first theme song began.
Knowing that she was the first person up, Tsunami was standing outside the main entrance to the ring. She was looking down, shaking her arms to get looser. The sweet, sweet guitar riff had blared and it was time for Tsunami’s entrance. Her name was splayed all over the titantron as the wrestler ran outside, an arm raised as she sped down the ramp toward the ring. The crowd cheered for her, mostly because of her status as a face. Most people loved her. It was a great feeling to be so loved and well received by her fans.
As she got to the bottom of the ramp, she slowed down and gave a few fans high fives, before going to the other side and giving a few lucky fans the same treatment as well. After doing so, Tsunami made her way to the ring, strutting her stuff up until she got to the ropes. Climbing on the very edge of the canvas, she put her weight on the ropes and turned around, raising her arms, fingers pointed up toward the sky.
The crowd surged with energy. Utilizing that, Tsunami entered the ring and started to shuffle around the edges to keep her muscles warm. This was going to be a rough match and she was going to have to give 110% to keep up with the people she’d be facing.
When that first metal riff hit, and the lights turned green, and the titantron started to play Sydney’s video, the reaction was mixed, both in reception and volume. Sydney was booed because she was a heel, cheered by a few because she did good work in the ring, but didn’t get as loud a reaction as the faces or Barbie, who even without her reputation as a backstage opportunist, still has the mic skills to get any crowd to boo their lungs out. Sydney wished she had that kind of power or presence, but she was no talker. She could give a decent intimidating promo, but like Rosado, she communicated best in the ring without words, just selling the story with her face, her actions, and her body.
Sydney marched out from behind the partition and up the ramp briskly and with purpose. On this occasion, she was wearing desert camo ring gear, a matching military cap, and big black punky boots with as many buckles and zips as could fit onto one pair of boots.
When she reached the ring, she leapt from the floor to the edge of the canvas in a single bound. Who needs steps? She then took off her cap and dumped it unceremoniously on the floor before stepping into the ring, and pacing back and forth, all the time eyeing up Tsunami, as if she was a tiger, and the plucky face had just wandered into her enclosure.
Following the short reprieve as the crowd continued its fading reception, the lights dimmed near to a blackout; this was no power failure, no no, and the excitement was already palpable. It only increased as there came a sound almost like a fancy motor revving up, a vehicle accelerating down a straight road. The choral voices sung over a building beat: EYES FLICKER, HEART BEATS QUICKER INSIDE lyrics mirroring the mood of the crowd whenever a match with this particular wrestler took to the ring...and the skies. The beat continues to build and the lyrics along with it. ’BEFORE WE BEGIN TO SAY GOODBYE...LET’S START MAKING UP… FOR LOST TIME!
As the beat hits hard with its explosive note, the lights flash on, yellow strobes flicker to the beat, and the eruption of cheers is enough to drown out the pumping, thumping, electro track. Rosado wastes little time in appealing to those in attendance, coming from backstage with a front handspring, her flourish being a thrust thumbs up with a smile so wide it could count as a toothpaste commercial. Rosado had a way of working the crowd for different reasons; while some might look to sex appeal or whatever counted for aesthetics - both the wrong things to focus on if Rosado were to have an opinion - Rosado just had an energy and charisma about her that made her incredibly easy to love. Nothing about her was eye catching, from her expressive, though standard and unprettied, face to her attire which looked like something she would wear to the gym: a black sleeveless top, red shorts that weren’t tight on the hips to allow freedom of movement, and shoes. She looked like she wandered in off the street, but the way she walked down the ramp, slapping hands, throwing up hand signs of positivity, and always, always smiling...she belonged here.
Rosado didn’t take the stairs to the apron. She leapt up from the ground and used that momentum to leap again, this time landing on the top rope, balancing atop it just long enough for her music to crescendo again. Rosado bobs her head, looking first to the crowd and then to those already assembled in the ring. Before the music ends, Rosado springs off the rope, landing in a somersault and coming up center of the ring to the last gasps of cheers and applause; the match hadn’t even started and already Rosado was showcasing her energy.
With her music fading, Rosado practically leapt to her corner to give her partner, Tsunami, a pat on the back and an earnest thumbs up. Someone had to be confident, and fortunately Rosado had plenty to spare.
The girls on the ring were soon forgotten the moment the crowd heard the earsplitting screech and the lights began to strobe black and white. The titantron matched in timing for the waves of light and revealed intense close ups of the goth styled Star that was about to grace the crowd with her presence. From her eyes to her lips to a black crossed choker necklace around her neck… anyone who had a goth fetish would surely have wet dreams tonight. And every night, really. The white lights stopped flashing and shifted to red on the drum beat, swiftly panning to reveal the bewitching wrestler known as Morgana. Since her aesthetic was something the crowd always looked forward to, even if some didn’t want to admit it because she was a prevailing heel and unfortunately the former, not current, Sovereign of the Women’s Championship Title, she made sure there was something new at every show.
Before Barbie, she was everyone’s eye candy that they loved to hate. Before Barbie, it was her sensual curves and dynamite sex appeal that all the people cared about. Before Barbie, the Witch was the relevant force, not the stupid, plastic, ooooooh shiny, sparkle bitch, who fucked her way to the top.
Welcome to the entertainment business, world!
Morgana’s makeup was on point, as per usual, thanks to her own skills and Tay’s extra eyes. Her lips were adorned with plum lipstick, her eyes, which were a sharp, icey blue, vibrantly popped due to the dark and smoky eyeshadow and eyeliner to accentuate her provocative expressions. For those who took the time to examine her face, they could see shades of red. Her long, light pink hair was teezed to give her appearance volume, but also the message: this bitch is crazy. Which honestly wasn’t a hairstyle she did often. Her black jeaned shorts hardly had any length and did reveal some flesh, her stomach resembled that of a toned belly dancer, and her tall legs had delicate nylon that reached to her mid thigh (outfit).
There was no fear written on her face, only confidence. Morgana would relish in this moment and every moment she had the spotlight. All eyes would be on her, after all. When the guitar rift started, she strutted down the ramp, that ‘caught on fire’ behind her. Timed well and following her, as if every step she took caused the floor to burn. Letting her body do the talking, her right hand rested on her slender neck and trailed down it to give her fans what they wanted. Her. With her head held up high, her piercing gaze scanned the audience, who were mutually in an uproar. Yelling her name. Telling her to give them hell! Some even throwing shade about her and her feud with Barbie. This only made her… want more. She ate up everything they threw at her. The good, the bad, and the downright ugly.
Keep it comin’ children.
Near the bottom of the ramp, she looked at someone randomly, puckered her lips into a kiss, and winked at them. She didn’t need to sleep her way to the throne to be enticing. Smoothly, she slithered her way to the ring, bent over to slip under a rope, purposely sticking out her voluptuous bottom, and twirled around so she was facing her people again. Lifting her hands up in the air. she beckoned them to get louder. And they did. Her recognizable smirk appeared on her flawless face and she soon after joined her partner, but rather than prowl around Tsunami and Rosado, her attention wasn’t on anyone in the ring.
No. She was looking at the commentator table, where Barbie, who had an irritating, faux smile on, was sitting. God, she hated her.
Barbie waggled her fingers in a mocking wave to the former AWE Women’s Champion. Her sparkling white smile was as fake as the nacho cheese they were serving to the attendees in the stands.
“And what a match this is bound to be. We have Tsunami and Rosado versus Sydney Ellis and Morgana. Excellent, wonderful! You can feel the energy in the crowds, this place is vibrating right now. I can’t tell what’s louder, the cheers or the boos. We will have to see which team reigns supreme.” Marcus chimed in before the start of the match.
“Hah!” Barbie remarked with a light knee slap. “Reigns supreme? We’ve got that wannabe Japanese girl, GI Jane, the freaky mute, and last and certainly least, the has-been Women’s Champion. Supreme isn’t really what comes to my mind here. This just a bunch of girls playing in the sandbox, building sand castles and wishing they were Queen.”
That fuckin’ bitch.
As soon as the bell rung, Sydney stopped circling Tsunami and immediately rushed her, catching her in a grapple and forcing her back towards the corner, making use of her strength and power, which trumped Tsunami’s. Tsunami knew that she was in trouble as soon as she hit the turnbuckle. Sydney was a lot stronger than she was, so clinching up was going to be a nightmare. Tsunami threw some knees at Sydney’s midsection, causing Sydney to loosen her grip. The powerhouse responded with a swift headbutt, before grabbing her opponent and tossing her from the corner to the middle of the ring like a ragdoll. The crowd popped, booing the heel for her brutal treatment of a beloved face. Sydney smirked and slowly advanced upon Tsunami, who was slowly getting to her knees.
Sydney grabbed her head with both hands and pulled her up. Tsunami subsequently countered with a footstomp, freeing herself from Sydney’s grasp as she had the upper hand. She fired with a roundhouse kick to the midsection, pulling it early enough so that it wouldn’t hit Sydney’s gut at full force. Then came an uppercut as Sydney keeled over, aiming for the very edge of her cheek bone.
Tsunami then backed off and got some energy from the crowd, she dashed toward the ropes, letting herself bounce off the rope and converting the momentum she had received into a dropkick, before rolling backwards into a standing position where she thought about what to do to Sydney, who was still lying from the dropkick.
The much smaller woman had a good idea, and started off with an elbow drop, preceded by plenty of theatrics. She then kicked Sydney’s arm. After feeling the crowd cheer, Tsunami pulled Sydney up, grabbing her arms and standing her up so she could hit one of her favorite moves. Closing the distance between them, Tsunami clinched and clasped her arms behind Sydney’s back, before hopping slightly so that she could get the momentum she needed to pull off the belly-to-belly suplex.
Now that Sydney was once again on the floor, she was going for the pin. Amanda didn’t expect Dawn to give up so soon.
“It looks like we have Tsunami closing in for a pin. This early, can it happen?”
Tsunami pulled the leg and listened to the referee, and the crowd count. “1...2…” and then followed the kickout.
“Ohhh, not yet, Tsu. Not yet. The fans are not liking that, it’s clear that they are rooting for their girl over Sydney. What will she do next?”
“Get Jackhammered by Sydney Ellis, that’s what. Watch. This is damned child’s play, Mark.” Kane chuckled to himself. It was obvious which side he was rooting for.
Tsunami looked devastated that she couldn’t get the pin, but she knew that it wasn’t going to happen so soon. She got up, wondering what she was going to do next. Was it time? Was it time to hit the flying triangle?
Tsunami turned to the crowd and raised her arms to get them hyped up. The crowd, the announcers, the referee, and Sydney all knew what was coming next. Tsunami sprinted to the ropes, taking the momentum she would receive from bouncing off, and utilizing it once again to pull off the flying triangle. Once she was close enough she hopped up as high as she could with her legs out. Targeting the shoulders, she wrapped them around and swung herself so that she could get Sydney on the ground. Wrapping her legs around her neck in a triangle, she pretended to squeeze the living lights out of the other wrestler and get her to tap or pass out.
Sydney, however, now that she was being grappled on the floor, was in her element. She quickly overpowered the smaller woman, and put her in a very real looking Kimura lock, before using her free hand to repeatedly deliver stiff blows to Tsunami’s face. Though these were pulled, and the force went across the face instead of into it, they still made legitimate contact. Dawn had already bought Amanda flowers as an apology gesture.
Tsunami’s offence had crumbled as she now lay in a heap on the floor, covering her face. Sydney got to her feet, pulled Tsunami back up, and then delivered a BFT to her, sending her stumbling back into the ropes, on Sydney’s side. Just in case, Sydney pulled her back into the center of the ring to avoid a possible tag, and put Tsunami’s arm over her shoulder, setting her up for the Jackhammer.
Sydney never lost a match on free TV with this move. Hitting it meant game over, so the mere act of setting it up earned her enough heat that she was now met with a cascade of boos, which turned to cheers, when, before she could lift Tsunami up, the plucky face pushed her away. This reversal of fortune was short lived, as Sydney quickly felled her again with a discus clothesline, before making a cover.
“And another attempt at a pin, this time Sydney on top.”
“Yeah, she is.”
1...2...Tsunami kicked out just before the three count. Sydney got back up to her feet and began stamping on the prone wrestler’s head as the booes once again began hailing down. Sydney smiled up at the crowd, before picking Tsunami up like she weighed nothing at all and delivered a powerslam to her, she then took in a second to strut around with her arms open and flexed, laughing after brutalising the crowd’s beloved face.
“Ohhh, this is just hard to watch. Absolutely brutal. Sydney Ellis is hammering on Tsunami. She may have to make a tag soon, this could be the end.”
This was the perfect time to really throw a wrench in things. Barbie Summers seized the opportunity, being the opportunist that she was. “Hey, Morticia.” the reigning champion addressed her well-known foe with a mocking nickname.
“Did you get lost on your way to the nearest freak show? This is professional wrestling, honey. Are you lost?” Barbie teased the dark beauty.
Morgana’s eye twitched at Barbie’s vexatious voice. Tightening her grip on the rope, she visibly grimaced and the camera zoomed in on the pink-haired wrestler’s face, as she grinded her teeth together in undeniable aggravation.
Keep calm. Stay collected.
Lying on the floor, taking deep breaths as Tsunami had just received a rather hard powerslam. She was a little winded from the move, but Sydney was doing a good job letting her recover while she did some theatrics. Then she determined that it was Rosado time. Rolling around, she crawled to Rosado with her arm reached. She could sense that Sydney had figured out what Tsunami was going to do and was going to get to her. But, before she could do anything, Tsunami had posted up with an arm and used it to propel herself forward and tag Rosado in. After doing so, Tsunami rolled out of the canvas so that she could get resituated outside of the ropes.
Why was there so much talking? Was this a match or some stupid teendrama? Everyone talked too much, especially in this match, and it was only serving to do one thing: annoy the ever loving shit out of Rosado. The crowd was cheering as Rosado hopped the ropes to enter the ring, moving with purpose and speed towards Sydney and leaping towards her like a pouncing simian. Rosado latched onto the taller woman and began to deliver quick punches to the head; Rosado’s speed was not enough compensation to knock down Sydney with just a splash, so after delivering her standing punches she leapt off Sydney, landing on her feet like a cat, and charged forward again to continue up the momentum.
Never give them an inch, they’ll take a mile. Words she heard in her head over and over again. Sage advice, almost, and Rosado was certainly following it to a T. A leaping strike. Overbearing offense, what it lacked in strength, it made up for in swiftness and repeated offense. It was like a flurry of slaps, punches, and unorthodox delivery methods for each. Let the catty ones talk talk talk. It made this whole affair easier for one party. With Sydney feeling the brunt of Rosado’s attacks, Rosado used the middle rope to give a kick to Sydney’s midsection, effectively capping her initial flurry of blows. Even Rosado had to take a moment to catch her breath now, but the statement had certainly been made.
“What’s with all the black, anyway? Did the witches kick you out of their coven? No, that’s not it, it’s because you’re in mourning, right? … because of your loss of this -” Barbie gestured to the Championship Belt worn around her waist. Barbie had the sorceress’ attention now. Excellent. “Or mayyybe, it’s just because you’ll never be anything but a mere shadow of your father. What’s it like, little goth, having to constantly live in the shadows of people that are so much better than you?”
Oh, fuck this! Sydney didn’t need her help. Morgana had more important matters to attend to. One being putting this bimbo slut in her place. If there was something that separated ‘the prep and the goth’ it was Morgana put years of blood, sweat, and tears to get where she was today, while Barbie… well.
Jumping down, with only the audience to notice her, but not her partner, Morgana hissed at the blonde that sat her fat ass on the announcer table, “I actually like when you spread filthy lies about me. It means you’re spreading more than just your legs.” Her lips curved into a smirk. Taking a step closer, locking her prominent gaze with her rival, Morgana nonchalantly stretched her arms and mocked back, “Must be nice, though. Thinking you’re something other than trash. Cute, even.” Her notorious kittenish giggle escaped her lips.
Sydney crawls to the ropes, only to find that her tag team partner was not there, but was instead at the announcer table, facing down Barbie. "Hey!” She yelled, slapping the canvas multiple times loudly. "HEEEEEY!”
Again with the stupid talking! Rosado rolled her eyes and held up her right hand and made a mocking hand gesture of a mouth flapping as she pointed at Sydney and the bickering broads down near the table. Their mistake. Rosado’s gain. As Sydney was calling for help, Rosado grabbed a leg and pulled her back to the center of the ring where some stomps were delivered just as a statement, like a red mark through a test, highlighting the mistakes made. Being unable to knock Sydney down earlier, Rosado took the opportunity to deliver mounted strikes to the head before relenting.
Rosado pulled back a moment, long enough for Sydney to rise, which was just long enough for Rosado to admire her handiwork. The girl looked out of it, like she didn’t know what was going on. And Rosado just smiled.
Sydney suddenly shakes her head, quickly snapping out of her post-beatdown trance, before delivering a Rolling Wheel Kick to Rosado’s head, and then flipping back to her feet rather impressively. Sydney was back in the game!
Rosado gave Sydney an inch...now she had to make sure a mile wasn’t taken. Rosado was shaken, wobbly, taking a step back, but maintained the wherewithal and presence of mind not to let this mark the end of the match or her time in the ring. The spot monkey darted into action, meeting the delivered wheel kick with a leap up, a turn, and a kick to the head of Sydney in true enziguri fashion. Rosado landed on her chest, rolled through, and was back on her feet, her smile seeming less whimsical and more sinister with each breath she took.
Sydney recoils, wobbling and drooping, looking like she’s close to falling over, but recovers, and hit another Rolling Wheel kick, connecting firmly with her opponent’s head. This time, she doesn’t flip back, but slowly, and shakily climbs back to her feet.
“Lies? Oh, darkling, these are factual observations. You’re right though, I do love using my legs to get what I want. Just like I did when I had you beggin’ for mercy in a Legally Blonde. Don’t you remember? You remember, right?” Barbie continued to antagonize the witchy wrestler. She was, of course, referencing the infamous submission that put Morgana out of the title, and Barbie into it, over 100 days ago. Barbie crossed her legs daintily and grinned wide with pride, curling a blonde lock of hair around her finger. If she had bubble gum, she would snap a bubble right about now.
Seething with anger, the beast in Morgana was begging to rip out of her and gauge Barbie’s eyes to shreds, but rather than jump at her irrationally, she gave a condescending sneer. Her nostrils flared, her eyes flashed and closed into slits, her hands balled into fists, and with her deadly demeanor, she let out a loud, “HA!” If her eyes were a weapon, the daggers residing within them were aimed right at Barbie’s head, waiting to slash at her delicate face. “Why don’t you put your money where your mouth is? You may hold the title, but you hide behind the throne. All you do is talk, Barbie Summers.” Morgana inched closer like a predator approaching her prey. Her air of confidence never leaving her. “Without Drayden, you are nothing. You’re only worth what people would pay for you; and that’s not your skills as a wrestler, or even your pretty little face.”
Breaching into Barbie’s space, but still not making any contact, the darkly clad woman gingerly traced her finger down her own chest, “All you have to offer is your body. Oh, and your boyfriend’s talent. The moment you do decide to come out and play, I’ll be waiting, and baby...” Morgana leaned forward. Her breath tickling Barbie’s ear, as she whispered, “I won’t be as forgiving.”
Rosado reels from the kick, her body shook and head stinging. She uses the ropes to stay upright while her eyes narrow towards Sydney. If one wasn’t enough to down the bitch, then here was round two. Another rush forward, another jump, another enziguri to Sydney’s head, with an impact loud enough to carry to the top seats. Again, Rosado landed on her chest, but she vaulted up and continued her assault, a follow through. She was like a dervish, but she was still feeling the effects of twice taking a boot to the head. Her slaps were connecting, her punches were finding the mark, but it was like David and Goliath and David’s sling only had pebbles.
It called for something drastic and flashy, otherwise known as the Rosado Method. After giving another kick to the midsection that didn’t topple the beast, Rosado pulled back and vaulted her way to the top of the turnbuckle, taking only a moment to point to the crowd - this one was for them. Turning on a dime to face the ring, Rosado didn’t hesitate. This monkey was about to fly.
Sydney sees Rosado leap from the top rope, but the powerhouse is ready for the little monkey, and catches her in a fireman’s carry. With a roar, she heaves, and lifts Rosado up into a Military Press, which she hold for a few seconds before dropping Rosado and letting her slam into the canvas. Sparing a few seconds to grin at the heavily booing crowd, she then grabs the back of Rosado’s shirt and lifts her to her feet with just one hand, before swiftly throwing a muscular arm around her throat and locking the Tropical Tamarin in a Standing Chokehold, right in the center of the ring!
“Well, that’s game! We’ve seen that move be locked in time and time again, and there’s almost no way out of it. I guess Sydney’s going to win this match… despite the numbers game.”
Sydney grins, and starts to shake the life out of Rosado, in addition to keeping the move tightly cinched in.
She could get out of this. She knew she could. She was a fighter. And Sydney was shaking a bit...too…
Using the momentum and size difference, Rosado struggled free by following-through and flipping over Sydney’s head, landing with shaking, wobbly feet. Her offense was slowing. Time for the salvo. A kick to the right rib, a kick to the left, a boot to the knee. Her kicks were what she had now. One two. One two. One two. Kick kick. Never give an inch. They were both tired, but Rosado had one more trick up her sleeve. She backed off, retreated back to the top of the turnbuckle, this time taking no moment to appeal to the crowd. Sydney was reeling...this was the moment. The do or die.
Rosado leapt into a forward flip and as she was coming down she grabbed Sydney by the head and dragged her down to the mat by sheer force of gravity and will alone, driving her opponent down. The shooting star DDT hit its mark, and Rosado made sure to go for the cover now that she had toppled the four inch taller giant. One. Two. Three.
“Hmm Hmm Hmm” Barbie held a laugh in her chest haughtily. “Speaking of being all talk…”
The bell sounded and the electro beat of Kuaga (Lost Time) blares to a supportive crowd and a beaming pair of victors.
“Perhaps you should have been paying attention to the match you just lost, Doll.”
Sydney, by this point, had rolled out of the ring, and was supporting herself on the side of the apron, panting heavily, and absolutely livid. She turned to the announcer table, and started to briskly stomp towards Morgana, her so-called tag team partner, who had left her high and dry to fight two opponents. Sydney was not going to take this betrayal lying down, and unbeknownst to Morgana, Fury itself was marching towards her back.
The first the gothic wrestler would know of Sydney’s presence would be a pair of hands grabbing her hair and slamming her face into the announcer table. When she turned to look, she’d see Sydney there, absolutely seething. "Thanks for the help back there, partner!” she shouts in Morgana’s face before proceeding to throw stiff blow after stiff blow into her partner’s face, beating her down until she was floored, dazed and clutching her face.
“Oh, come now. Sometimes you can’t win every battle in the war, no one likes a sore loser, GI Jane.” Barbie quipped, owning her character, never losing the zest that kept the flames of the crowd’s heat for her burning bright.
The military girl, not taking kindly to that remark, then walks over to stare down Barbie for a few tense seconds, before ripping her headset off roughly. She looks down at it, turning it and examining it, amused, before throwing it back in Barbie’s face and marching off, back towards the entrance ramp. The message was clear; ‘You’re all talk and no fight, and that’s funny to me.’
Cameras panned in to get a closer look at Barbie as she adjusted her tiara. After smoothing her hair, she hopped down from the announcer table and stared after the heel with murder in her eyes, her fists balled up tight at her sides.
“What an exciting match we’ve had tonight. It looks like the feud between Morgana and Barbie Summers isn’t dying down in the slightest. With Sydney in on the fight now, things are about to get verrryy heated in the AWE Women’s Division. I don’t know about you guys, but I can’t wait to see what these ladies have in store for us in the weeks to come.” Marcus said in closing, his excitement over the turn of events very evident in his words and facial expressions.
“You can say that again. Let the fire never die out. I’m too into it.” Kane, of course, had to add his last two cents. Hot babes. Hot fights. Hot drama. HOT.
"Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Razorbladeeee!” Joy Ryder had a bright demeanor on, as she always did, and it reflected through her smile. Her blue eyes looked straight into the lense with the utmost confidence and then Chance panned to Alex’s face. Alex looked extremely focused, but there was also the slightest bit of nervousness on his face. While the image rested on Razorblade, Joy brought the mic to her right hand and before bringing it to his lips, she gave him a sympathetic gaze and welcomed him with her first question (they were on a time limit, after all), ”With all the heightened emotions in tonight’s Shock and Awe, I can’t imagine what’s going on in your head, so I have to know, how do you feel about this upcoming match with Chaos Clayton?”
Razorblade gave a smirk to the camera before he began speaking, ”Well, Joy, I’m am super excited for this opportunity. If someone had told me a year ago that I’d have a chance at the AWE World Title, I probably would have laughed right then and there. This is the biggest opportunity in my career, and I’ll admit that I’m VERY nervous. However, I’m not fighting for myself. I’m fighting for every little guy that the world seems to push down. Clayton is just the first step to a journey. What journey that is depends on how well I do.” Razorblade smiled at the camera and started bouncing on his feet and shaking his hands out waiting for the next question.
With a positive gleam, Joy nodded at his words. So far, so good. Razorblade was on the right path and he won over most of the younger generation’s hearts. Underdogs helped kids believe they could be something more than they ever thought they could be. He, along with Chaos Clayton even, still had work ahead of them. They had yet to become full fledged professional wrestlers, but they were getting there, and Joy wanted to help them as much as possible. If she wasn’t mistaken, she had three to five minutes of airtime, so she had to make sure she brought out the most character in Razorblade, in the short span of time. One question down, two more to go. “Going off what you just said, with your journey depending on how well you do, do you think you have what it takes to take down Chaos Clayton? Like what do you think you have over him?” It was time to hopefully bring out the passion in the wrestler. Being humble was all good and dandy, but every wrestler needed to be aware of their strengths and weaknesses, and even better if they knew where they had the advantage over their opponent.
Razorblade looked back to the camera and said, ”Everyone knows that Clayton and I have similar fighting styles, but he doesn’t have the heart I do. If it gets too difficult he’ll look for a cheap way to win. I know all of his tricks. I’ve watched his matches and know exactly how he likes to fight. I’ve also got an up over him in grapples and submissions. All I need to do is lock him in a submission and he is done for. He just can’t last as long as I can.”
Come on, Alex. Bring out your character, exaggerate more. Win your fans over. A devilish grin fell on Joy’s face. With the mic by her lips, she thoughtfully asked (there was a hint of challenge in her tone), “How long can you last, Razorblade? How far are you willing to go? Because there’s a lot of competition out there and you know this business by now. If you don’t have what it takes, you’ll be buried alive.”
”Someone has to be there to put a smile on the kids’ faces. I want to be that person. I will be that person. You wanna know how far I’ll go? I’ll keep going until I can’t move my body, and I do it for them. The kids need a hero. Even if someone says that they can’t, they need someone to show them that they can. That no matter how much the world pushes them down that they can stand up and be champions of their own lives. Now yes, there is a lot of competition in this business, and they’ll do everything they can to push me down. But I will always get back up and prove them wrong. I am--” Razorblade looks a Joy and smirks then continues, ”Razorbladeeee! Remember that name.” He gave his signature howl then walked off smiling.
The camera stood on Joy, as Razorblade walked off. She playfully shook her head at his teasing (since he said his name in the same tone and affliction as she did at the beginning of the interview). She was an expressive woman!
And commercial.
The next match was about to begin.
The lights dimmed in the arena until it was pitch black, the only lights being those from the audience's phones and camera, pointed to the stage entrance. They eagerly awaited the follow up to the tumultuous Women's tag team match. All of a sudden, the beginning guitar riff blared throughout the arena. The signature entrance music of the biggest rebel in AWE history. Red searchlights flooded the arena, soon focusing on the center of the stage, showing a masked figure clad in red and black with his arms held high, facing downwards and hands balled into the devil horns.
As the music reached its first drop, Chaos Clayton threw his arms downwards, synchronising with the pyrotechnics that erupted in a wave either side of him as he finally turned his head upwards onto the crowd. No one could tell, but Duncan was smiling behind his snood. His wide, crazy looking eyes scanned the crowd as he began to stride down the ramp. The crowd exploded with cheers, all hungry for the upcoming havoc that was about to occur. These were the reactions that Duncan lived for. As he reached the end of the ramp, Clayton looked at the crowd again, head turning from left to right before directly facing the camera.
TEAR THIS UP! TEAR THIS UP! TEAR THIS UP! TEAR THIS UP!
His own catchphrase was bombarding Clayton from the crowd as the Arbiter of Anarchy ran the tip of his thumb across his neck, before whipping around and jumping up on the canvas, gripping onto the ropes. He stepped through, walking a lap of the ring before pacing back and forth in the middle and finally crouching down, looking at the stage, awaiting his opponent. The camera zoomed in, and his eyes was clearly transfixed on the entrance. Clayton extended his arm and fanned his fingers backwards and forwards as his music died down, saying "Bring it!" to the man who was about to walk through.
“All in or nothing, with war and mayhem running through his blood, Chaos Clayton, the guy who just doesn’t give a damn, is about to destroy the ring. Are you NOT ENTERTAINED?!“ Kane voiced into the mic with a wide grin plastered on his face.
The arena became a dimgray when the music for the resident Underdog began playing. Three red spotlights lit up the entrance following Alex as he walked to the center. Dropping to his knees and extending his arms outwards as he took in the cheers of the audience. Alex then stands up and begins running down the ramp high-fiving the fans as he runs down.
Alex runs all the way around to the announcers table. He hops on top takes a deep breath then howls along with the crowd. He was ready to give a good show to his Pack and they were excited to watch. From his position Alex stared right at his opponent and pointed right at him saying something that no one could hear from the added combo of music and fans cheering.
He hopped down then jumped onto the apron. He then propelled himself over the ropes in a flip running straight to the corner afterwards raising his arm in the air with a thumbs up. Hopping off the corner he looked back to Clayton ready to put on the show.
“And it looks like his opponent is ready for the match as well. Will this be the match that propels Razorblade into the main event scene? He’s finally being given a chance, and we are going to get a chance to see it live, right here on Wednesday night Shock n Awe.” Wade Palmer, the beloved voice of the AWE spoke into the microphone as Alex jumped onto the turnbuckle.
The referee signaled to the two fighters, who nodded that they were ready. The bell was rung and the match was underway.
Chaos Clayton strafed right and Razorblade mirrored the movement to the left as they circled each other. Clayton leaned his head from side to side, creepily sizing his opponent up.
Razorblade made sure to keep his hands up ready for whatever Chaos was about to do.
“A chance? We’ll see about that, Wade. Razorblade is still a pup for all I care. A little wolf pup about to pounce on a lion. Who do you think wins?”
“We’ll see. I believe that Razorblade has got so much heart, so much passion for this business… it might just give him the upperhand here. Didn’t your mama ever tell you that it’s not about the size of the dog in the fight, but the size of the heart in the dog?”
Slowly they inched towards each other and grappled into a lock-up with neither giving an inch.
Clayton started pushing forward, using his legs to slowly press the Underdog towards the corner, while they tussled back and forth for control. Soon enough, Chaos pressed his weight against Razor on the corner, trying to gain some leverage. The struggle lasted a few moments before the Anarchist could free his right arm and deliver a series of elbow smashes into the shoulder of Razorblade. Only the five count from the referee and his intervention could make Clayton cease his relentless assault as the match official pushed him away from the corner to the centre of the ring.
“Look at that. Sometimes being as reckless and chaotic in the ring as Clayton can be isn’t necessarily a good thing. He damn near got himself disqualified, and if that happened… he can kiss the AWE World Title goodbye.”
“Uh-huh. It ain’t over yet. If anyone is kissing the AWE World Title goodbye, it’s that boy trying to be a man. The Underdog. Which would benefit us all, LET’S BE HONEST.”
Razorblade shook out his shoulder a little as he stepped away from the corner. He waited for the ref to step away from Clayton and paused to let Clayton make the first move.
Clayton cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders. He turned on his feet and ran towards the rope, twisting around and bouncing back into it, using his slingshot manoeuvre to propel himself towards Razorblade, shouting as he charges forward.
Razorblade quickly plants his left foot into the ground and just as Chaos gets close spins around launching his right foot in a spinning back kick towards Chaos' head. The impact causes Chaos to fall back hard, as he clutched his head to mimic being hurt. Quickly Razorblade takes this opportunity to set-up for a moonsault over the apron. He hops over while Chaos is still groggy and after a moment launches himself over the ropes toward Clayton.
“Look at that, see? Razorblade clearly has it in him to be a major player in the AWE, but does he have what it takes to be the champion and fill the huge gap left by Drayden? Let’s find out here tonight, live in Chicago.”
Chaos Clayton grunts out in pain as he gets squashed by the moonsault, still reeling from the devastating counter kick that stopped his attempted clothesline.
Razorblade stands up from the successful moonsault and starts to lift Clayton up. Once he is on his knees Razorblade runs to the ropes bouncing off of them going for a shining wizard.
Clayton grabs Razorblades' lower leg as he set up for the Shining Wizard. He leans back onto the mat and twists round, throwing Razor downwards over him.
Razorblade can't do much to try and counter the move and ends up landing right on his back knocking the air out of him.
Chaos finally gets up and stands on his feet. He clasps his hands around Razor's head and lifts him up too before attempting to irish whip him into the corner. "Get ready!" the Anarchist called out. To the crowd, this was a taunt and a warning. For Razor, this was a heads up. Once Razorblade is leant against the turnbuckle and facing him, Clayton charges and yells again, bringing his knee up to collide into the stomach of the Underdog. Leaving his opponent there for a moment, Chaos Clayton turned away to the crowd, making his hands posed as claws and slowly tore apart the air, appealing to the roaring crowd.
TEAR HIM UP! TEAR HIM UP! TEAR HIM UP!
“Rip him to shreds and feed him to the dogs.”
“Will you STOP?”
However, Clayton was exposed. Despite knowing it was coming the knee still hurt. It took a second to recoil from it and while Clayton was appealing to the crowd Razorblade came up behind him. He grabbed the back of his neck and his pants. He threw him towards the ropes and was preparing to kick him.
Clayton sprang up onto the ropes, planting his feet onto the bouncy ropes before twisting back, attempting a disaster kick. His eyes went wide as he realised the heavy blow that was about to come his way.
Razorblade ducked under the kick and turned bounced off the ropes then jumped with his feet going straight towards Clayton's face. This time he connected and both landed on the ground. Razorblade then said loud enough for his opponent to hear and no one else, "Go ahead and roll out now." Razorblade moved slowly towards Clayton as if he was going for a pin.
“Look at the height off of that dropkick! It’s unbelievable how athletic this kid is. You can talk down to him all you want, but even you can’t deny it Kane. Kid’s got hops.”
“Bounce, bounce, goes the bunny, but he’s still kind of fluffy. Anyone who told him to be himself couldn’t have given him worse advice.”
Clayton writhed on the ground, groaning from the counter attack. He gave a very slight nod to his opponent as he waited for Razor to inch closer until he rolled away and out of the ring, landing on all fours, exclaiming in pain before collapsing onto the floor panting. He stumbled up to the barricade, catching his breath right in front of the front row crowd before shaking his head and holding onto the side of his head, before looking up at the ring, still looking a bit dazed.
Razorblade stood up visibly frustrated. When he saw Clayton leaning on the barricade he smiled. He stood straight up and belted out a howl which a lot of the fans joined in on. He ran to the ropes opposite of the side Clayton was outside the ring at. Running towards the side Clayton was at Razorblade planted his hands on the ground flipped once then once on his feet again flipped over the ropes into a senton aimed at Clayton.
Both men hit the ground with staged force. Only thing that saved Razorblade from damage was the cushion that was Clayton's body. Razorblade rolled to the barricade and smiled looking at his handiwork. He stood up and looked at the crowd who were chanting.
RAZOR-BLADE! RAZOR-BLADE! RAZOR-BLADE!
“Listen to this capacity crowd support their fan favorite! It’s clear who they want to win, and I don’t blame them.”
“Keep talking, Wade. I always yawn when I’m interested.”
Razorblade bent down to pick up Clayton. When he lifted him up Razorblade hit him with a european uppercut. From there he pushed Clayton into the ring and pulled himself to the apron, stopping the ref's countout. He ran to the turnbuckle and hopped on top.
Razorblade sat on the turnbuckle waiting for the signal from Clayton that he was ready. Clayton slowly pulled himself up and stumbled into Razor's path. He looked up and twisted his right foot a few degrees, the signal for Razorblade to jump. Instantly Razorblade jumped off the turnbuckle towards Clayton. Landing on the shoulders of the man, Razorblade leaned back going for a hurricanrana.
Chaos Clayton clasped onto the belt of Razor's shorts, lifting him back up so he was upright. Clayton looked up, nodding slowly while his eyes stared wide, as if they were boring into Razor's mind. When he was lifted back up there was obvious shock on Razorblade's face he went to strike Clayton, but he was too late. Chaos Clayton immediately dropped to his knee, and simultaneously used the power of gravity to slam Razorblade down onto the mat, landing with a sickening thud. Delivering the powerbomb, Clayton leant back and threw his arms out wide, roaring out before scurrying on top and lifting up Razorblade's leg for the pin.
The referee slid over, slapping the apron with each count as well as being echoed by the crowd.
“One, two, three! That’s it, ring the bell!”
“BOOOOOOOYAHHHHHH! What did I say? The pup doesn’t got what it takes! IN YOUR FACE.”
“He tried his damndest, but he just couldn’t get the job done… That’s alright, Razorblade. Be proud of the show you put on, and keep swinging.”
Clayton stood up, and stared down at the defeated Underdog. He threateningly ran his thumb across his neck before twisting and throwing his hands up as rocker symbols in victory. Theme music kicked in as the Anarchist flung over the rope and hopped down from the apron, walking up the ramp and to the backstage, not giving the ring a second look as he disappeared behind the curtains. Chaos Clayton's work was done.
Razorblade slowly rolled out of the ring as Clayton was walking up the ramp. He fell to his knee and after a moment slammed his hand down on the ring. He took his time walking up the ring as the beaten Underdog.
“And now we’ll head backstage, where the winner of this match will be doing an interview with Joy Ryder.”
“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome my guest at this time, CHAOS-” Pause for dramatic effect. “Clayton!” Her blue gaze glinted with elation and anticipation. Chance, as silent as he was, did give Joy subtle cues to show if he was into her performance or not. The image went from her face to Chaos Clayton’s, who was sweaty and obviously looked like he had one hell of a battle. While she congratulated him and asked her first question, she brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, “Your fight with Razorblade kept me on the edge of my seat. Congrats on your win tonight and tearing the floor up like you usually do! After watching that match, I can’t help but wonder if you might have underestimated your opponent. There were times I thought, wow, the underdog might beat Chaos. Do you agree?”
Duncan was indeed quite tired from the match, but he didn’t mind too much. In fact, he loved interviews with Joy. Duncan took every chance to transform into Clayton, and Joy always did her best to make everyone’s characters even better than one could do by themselves. It’s why she’s been at this for so long. His mask was up, so facial expressions couldn’t do much to convey his emotions. It was all in the eyes, body language, and talking.
He stared down, chuckling a little before looking to Joy. "You corner a dog, Joy…”, the Anarchist began. In his head, Duncan’s mind was racing around, deciding on the next thing to say. He’d never mess with a tournament standings or go against Roddy or the writing team, but when it came to scripts? Fuck scripts. No fun! "...and the dog bites. That kid’s got a helluva bite, but he’s got a long way to go before he’ll prove to me that he’s more than a dog. I wanna see how he can destroy.” Chaos Clayton continued, saying the last word with such glee only a maniac could understand. And in fact, that’s what Clayton was. A true tornado of discord and destruction, and Duncan cherished every moment he could wrestle and act as him. Another chuckle escaped his lips before he tapped the side of his head with his finger a couple of times. "The mind decides how we act, but sometimes not even I will know how I’ll act. That’s why I win. You can’t plan against unpredictable.”
“But isn’t that now predictable for you?” With a raise of her eyebrow, Joy challenged her subject. “Being unpredictable, I mean. Wouldn’t you think, to a degree, having a strategy is necessary? Because who knows what the future has in store for us! The future itself is unpredictable. Chaos would not exist if there was no order.” Her words. that flowed out of her light pink lips naturally and inquisitively, made her think of her brother, who sadly was still in Japan. Everything he did had purpose and he caused an equal amount of destruction. Actually, he probably caused more. The argument here was: Does being unpredictable give you a competitive advantage? In theory, the potential benefits of unpredictability can exceed its cost, but to her, you could lose far more because you are not prepared. The oppose of unpredictable isn’t predictable. The opposite is strategic. How would Clayton be seen as anything but a chaotic fighter? How would his fans see him as a leader, who chooses the game to play and shapes how it’s played, when he goes out on a whim?
In chess, amateurs play for tricks, masters play for position. Does Chaos Clayton have what it takes to be one of the masters? This was his moment to shine and show Roddy that he was more than an uproar. That he wasn’t a happy accident. That he was a Star of American Wrestling Entertainment.
Duncan smiled behind the mask. Damn she’s good. Clayton quickly clapped his hands and pointed at Joy. "That’s it! There, there it is!” He exclaimed excitedly. In fact, he even took the mic right out of Joy’s hand. "The two don’t co-exist off of each other, like parasites to a host. They oppose each other.” He said, as if he had hit some sort of break through. "This is why I’m here. Chaos doesn’t need order to occur. Chaos is freedom! Freedom to do what you like! Take what you want! I’m here to take that Title. I want it! Make no mistake, Joy. Oh no.” As Clayton’s energy grew, he stood up and talked directly to the camera, pacing back and forth as he stakes his claim. “My Age Of Anarchy is upon the AWE!” He announced, getting more excited and sounding more crazy, delusional and most of all, aggressive. Even beginning to shout!
"Anyone who’s against me, who will oppose me, who will try to stop me! They will know the definition of pain when I leave that ring. Strategize… that…” Clayton finished, his wild eyes staring at the camera just those few sweet seconds longer before dropping the mic to Joy’s feet and walking away, out of the camera’s view.
The classic electric guitar riff of one of AWE’s finest veterans blared through the speakers, and a large mix of cheers and boos surrounded Zachary Wake as he stepped onto the entrance ramp, though it was clear that the boos were far more prominent. Zack smiled that glorious smile of his and proceeded down the ramp, purposely timing the walk out to match it with his music. Clothed in his favorite burgundy trunks adorned with the name “WAKE” in golden lettering on the back, Zachary made his way down the metal ramp with his chest held high. Many fans stuck their hands out for high-fives, and Zachary leaned towards them, even extending his hand, but as the fans swung towards Zack, he pulled his hand back close then pointed at the few who went for the high-fives and laughed at them. Their expressions turned sour, and Zack couldn’t get enough of it. Even after being in the business for a full decade, getting heat was still so fun, and the little things like that were the best bits.
Zachary rolled into the ring, and as the music hit 52 seconds, Zack closed his eyes, spread his arms wide and laughed, taking in anything and everything the crowd sent his way. After basking in the noise for a good ten seconds, and as the music faded, he faced the hard cam and flexed his muscles.
“Well, the fans are happy to say how they feel about Zachary Wake, and it isn’t positive. And, I’ve got some good news for those watching at home: we had our last commercial break before this match began, so you’ll be enjoying this one without any further interruptions.” Truth be told, Wade was just as hype as the raucous, on fire crowd was. There wasn’t a damn thing they could mess up with this match; Caiden Winters always had brilliant matches, and Zachary Wake was nothing to sneeze at.
As Zachary Wake’s music came to a close, Caiden Winters did not immediately start. Instead there was a brief pause, as the crowd got hot for the person the desperately wanted to see. Yes, they loved him, despite what he said when he was on the mic, despite how much he claimed to hate the fans, they adored Caiden. And it was hard not to! He was fantastically skilled, and whether the people backstage liked it or not, in this business, in ring ability and psychology got people to love you.
'CAI-DEN WIN-TERS’
‘CAI-DEN WIN-TERS’
Oh, it felt good. Caiden loved it, even if his character didn’t. That didn’t stop him from playing to the fans, at least a little bit. Working this match, he had been told to play it face; so face he would play. The music hit, and the man himself stepped to the top of the stage. “Is this what you came to see? You come to see me!?” Ooh, felt good.
“You hear the roar of the crowd? They’re answering Caiden Winter’s questions. And that answer is a heartfelt ‘yes.’ Don’t let them down.”
Caiden’s stroll down to the ring continued, and by the time the music got to the chorus, Caiden had rolled into the ring, and was facing Zack; a certain air of confidence about him. He wasn’t going to lose this, no way. This was his time.
Zack met face to face with his opponent, and grinned at him. “You ready, boy?” Each superstar radiated an immense amount of confidence, and the crowd was feeling it smack them in the face. It had been quite a while since these two last met, and now, only one of them would be progressing towards the AWE Championship.
Caiden smirked at his opponent, and nodded. The ring announcer stepped out of the ring, and the referee gestured for the bell to ring… and Caiden opened the match with a quick maneuver, running up to Zachary and jumping up for a dropkick, fluidly bending his body. High energy. The move connected beautifully, and Zack bounced backwards, dropping onto his backside and resting against the ring ropes. He looked up at the man now standing over him with a slight look of shock. The crowd accepted the move, and started up their chanting for Caiden once more.
Caiden grinned at his opponent on the floor after rolling up to his feet. Caiden put a hand up to the side of his head and flicked it out at Zack, firing a finger gun at him. “I know you got better than that in you.” He said, gesturing for Zack to get up and bring it better than that.
“Winters, showing a little bit of confidence here in the beginning of this match! What an explosive way to begin a match that’s sure to be a clinic.”
Zachary happily obliged, and stood up. He then held his arms out and locked them in with Caiden. After a short back and forth struggle for power, Zack gained the upper hand, pushing his opponent up into the corner. The referee broke the hold after a few seconds, but as Zack began to turn away from Caiden, he quickly doubled back and sucker punched him right in the jaw. The crowd booed the action, as they should have, but Zack didn’t stop there. He grabbed Caiden’s head with both hands, then drove a knee into the man’s abdomen. “You wanted to see better? Well you’re gonna get better!” After another punch, Zack grabbed Caiden’s arm with both hands, and dragged him away from the turnbuckles, attempting to throw him into the opposite corner.
Caiden was caught slightly off guard by the attack, but he was ready by the time Zack tried to throw him into the corner, countering and spinning around. He threw Zack into the corner himself but was quick to follow, ready to hit a corner kick and end this quick and clean. Zack expected the skilled Caiden to go for some big, flashy moves, so when he saw a big kick coming his way, Zack quickly ducked down and rolled out of the corner, allowing him some space. Zack turned to the crowd, and with a stern look on his face, shouted. “I AM THE BEST!” This only made the crowd more aggressive towards Wake, but he didn’t care. This match existed to prove that exact point.
Caiden’s response was in the form of a move. Quickly turning out of the corner and running toward the ropes in front of Zack as he struck a pose. He jumped up onto the ropes, and put his feet on the second rope, launching himself into a backflip in the air. He flew backwards and smoothly grabbed Zack’s neck as he landed, dropping him down to the floor in a reverse neckbreaker. Caiden then hopped up to his feet and mimicked Zack’s pose, “I’M BETTER THAN THE BEST!
“This is their chance to prove it! After all, the winner of this match advances in the tournament to crown the next AWE World Champion, an accolade held only by the best in the business.”
Zack held his neck in pain (faking, of course), and slowly crawled over to the ropes, pulling himself back to his feet with his spare hand. Once he got to his feet he tilted his head back and forth, allowing it to create several cracking sounds, and it was fine once more.
Zack took no time waiting for his opponent, and bounced off the ropes behind him, then sprinted towards Caiden, giving the man no time to react, turning around as Wake connected a stiff clothesline, knocking Winters to the ground. Wasting no time, Zack grabbed the downed Caiden’s legs, and mouthed “Liontamer.” Zack then proceeded to lift Winters ever so slightly off the ground, letting him bend his body to get into position.
Caiden’s face contorted in pain and he screamed as he stared into the camera, his face contorted into total agony as Zack twisted him. The referee came near him and yelled, “Do you want to quit?!” The ref demanded, and Caiden shook his head valiantly, lifting himself up on his forearms and crawling toward the ropes in an act of defiance. He would not give up! He had to win the title. Unfortunately for Caiden, the roadblock named Zachary Wake stood in his way. Soon after he began crawling, he was forcefully stopped with a stomp to the head. Zack pulled Caiden back to the centre of the ring, and re-applied the submission.
”WInters has to break this hold! He has to find a way to get new life, new energy, new power to pull himself to the bottom rope! We’ve seen this move put away so many other competitors in the past!”
Caiden was stunned now, and it showed in his face, eyes seemingly dead and empty. At this point, Zachary was laughing out loud, and every now and again turned his head to Caiden, shouting “Come on, give up!” And Caiden was met with supportive cheers from the crowd.
“Look at the life drain out of Winters’s eyes! The pull of Wake on the hold is clearly getting to him, he can’t take much more of this… but listen to the fans, rallying behind a man they love despite his sometimes blatant disregard for them!”
'Caiden’s gonna kill you!’
‘Caiden’s gonna kill you!’
Maybe Caiden could win this match, but not if he was stuck on the ground. Zack noticed the chants, as it was impossible not to, and replied to them with a sour expression. “HE CAN’T WIN!” Caiden was feeling the power of the crowd though, and in a sudden burst of energy, he pulled himself toward the ropes and snatched the bottom one in his hand, and the ref was on it in an instant.
“Break the damn hold, Wake!”
“And Winters got ahold of the rope! Freedom for Caiden! The match rolls on.”
Wake was stunned by the quick movements of his opponent, but when the referee demanded he break it up, Zack didn’t. The ref began counting towards five, and Zack deliberately held onto the move until the count of four. At that point, he let go of Caiden’s legs, and stood up proud. He grabbed Caiden by the hair, and lifted him to his feet, letting Winters use the ropes to pull himself up. As soon as Caiden was on his feet, Wake spun his around and put him in position for his signature stalled suplex. As Wake held Caiden’s head close to his, he spoke in a low voice. “Flip backwards out of the suplex, then you can start your comeback from there.”
Caiden gave Zack a bit of a nod and let himself hover in the air for a while, planking his body stiff into the air, before he let himself roll backwards and out of the suplex. He planted his feet expertly, now behind Zachary. He twisted out of the hold and threw Zachary into the corner. This time, he sped at the opponent and lifted his foot up for the high speed, high energy, powerful kick in the corner that he’d done hundreds of times before. The crowd popped for Caiden finally hitting the move he missed earlier, and Zack put on a stunned expression dropping to the ground in front of him.
“Look at the force on that kick, it damn near knocked Wake’s head off! If he doesn’t show up at the next show, it’s because that kick made him lose his damn memory.”
Caiden rested in the corner for a second, before climbing up to the top ropes. Once he stood atop them, he held his hands out in front of himself, and spun them, “You wanna see it?!” He shouted, and the crowd loudly cheered, and without a second thought, the massive man was in the air, way higher than he had any business being, spinning around 450 degrees, before splashing down onto Zack’s body. Caiden rolled off of his opponent and grabbed him by the arm, pulling him back up to his feet so he could set Wake up for the Solstice, and bring this match to an end.
“Winters hitting a beautiful four fifty splash, something a man his size shouldn’t be able to do. What a physical specimen he is.”
Zachary was quickly elevated onto Caiden’s shoulders wide-eyed and shocked. Zachary then belted Winters with a few short forearms, before putting his hand over his opponent’s eye and pretending to gouge at it. Caiden quickly dropped down, and Zack easily stepped off of Caiden’s shoulders. The crowd ate it up, and once again booed the dirty tactics Wake employed. While Caiden grasped his eye in pain, Zachary walked calmly over to one of the corners, and began untying the top turnbuckle. The ref was down next to Caiden, asking him if he was okay and if the injury was serious. Zack dropped the cover to the floor, then turned back to Caiden.
“Winters almost had the WInter Solstice in position; if he hits that move the match is surely over. You might not agree with Zack’s tactics there, but you can’t ignore that they were damn effective. Look at the time he’s getting now to remove the turnbuckle; who knows what he has planned with that?”
Caiden pushed himself up to his feet, shoving the ref away. ”I’m fine, I’m fine.” He spat out, and then quickly moved toward Zack. This match was going well; they worked together smoothly, but time was of the essence. Caiden locked up with Zack and spoke under his breath. “Finish soon. I’ll hit you with the Enzuigiri, ref looks away, you lowblow me from the ground, then roll up. Feet on the ropes, remember? Make it good.”
“You think I won’t make it look good?” Zack replied.
He then grabbed one of Caiden’s arms and pulled it towards the corner with the exposed turnbuckle, but Caiden quickly turned the Irish Whip around once more so that Wake would be on the receiving end of the exposed steel. Wake ran towards the turnbuckle, but as he got closer, he stuck his hands out and grabbed the ropes beside the corner, stopping his momentum. He stared at the steel, then spun around to see one of Caiden’s forearms flying towards his face. Zack scrunched his face up and took the blow, falling backwards and letting his raw flesh meet the cold steel. He screamed in pain, only to be shut up by an uppercut from Winters.
“An oversight from Wake! Caiden counters the Irish Whip and Zack nearly falls victim to his own trap! Now look at Winters, getting ready to end this for certain.”
After the uppercut, Caiden pulled Zack back closer to him and jumped up into the air, driving a kick into the side of his opponent’s skull, hitting his trademark enzuigiri, watching as Zack crumpled down to the ground. Caiden knew at that point that he had the match on lock, jumping back up to his feet as the referee turned around to deal with the uncovered turnbuckle.
“The Enzuigiri was picture perfect, but Caiden has to wait for the referee, to finish dealing with the turnbuckle to count the pin…”
The kick delivered from Caiden rattled Zack’s brain, sure, but it wasn’t enough to end him. Caiden was waiting for the referee to be done fixing the turnbuckle so he could put Zachary behind him and come that step closer to the AWE Championship. Unfortunately, that wasn’t going to happen. As the referee finished up tying the turnbuckle back on, Zack got up to his knees and drove an unforgiving fist into Caiden’s groin, and his face said it all.
“A lowblow! Zachary Wake is going to steal a win in the AWE World Title tournament! Not like this!”
With the hand that had delivered the low blow, Wake pulled Winters over him and down to the ground, performing a roll up pin. The referee turned around to this, and immediately got down to begin the pinfall. While the ref was distracted with numbers, Zack hoisted his feet up on the middle ropes, adding some leverage to his pin.
“Wake’s feet are on the ropes, elevating the pressure on the pin! That bastard is stealing the damn match right out from under Winters! Winters had him, and Wake used the ref’s distraction to his advantage and hit the damn lowblow!”
“One, two, three! That’s it, ring the bell!”
And with that, Wake had won, and was now a step further towards the World Championship. Zachary’s theme started up once more, and it was official. The crowd didn’t like it, and Caiden sure as hell hated it, but Zachary Wake couldn’t be happier. Caiden was laying there, sitting up in disbelief as Zack basked in the heat before heading to the back. After he went backstage, the music was cut, but Caiden still sat there, the same look in his eye.
“And you have to feel for Winters right now. He was going to win the match fair and square, but like he’s done so many times before… Zachary Wake cheated to improve his own standing here in the AWE… Just downright despicable.”
He stood up and slowly walked over to the referee, reaching outside of the ropes and asking for a mic, which was handed to him. “Do you know what you just did? Do you understand?” He demanded, and the smaller man slapped his hands together three times. One two three. “You didn’t see him hit that lowblow on me?! You… you…” Caiden stepped closer to the referee.
“The ref didn’t see it, he just called the match down the middle as best he could. It wasn’t his fault.”
“You’re dead.” The mic was dropped and the crowd exploded as Caiden laid his hands on the referee, punching him in the face again and again before lifting him up onto his shoulders, and dropping him down to the mat with a vicious Winter Solstice. Then, Caiden picked him up again… another Winter Solstice. He picked him up again… one more. This time, Caiden left the ref’s limp body in the middle of the ring, picking up the mic. ”It isn’t going to end like that. Roddy… I got a bone to pick with you…” He growled into the microphone before sliding through the ring ropes and heading up toward the backstage, his music now playing over the speakers, the last shot the camera showed being the ref, seemingly as dead as Caiden had promised, laying in a lump in the middle of the ring, ring doctors sprinting past Winters to check on him.
“What did we just see? Caiden Winters laid his hands on an official, left him broken and battered in the ring, and left a message for Roderick Quinn. Luckily for you, in ten minutes, on AWE After Hours, Joy Ryder and mine first guest will be none other than Caiden Winters. Stay tuned on AWE,com to see if we can shed some light on this.”
The lights dimmed, and the cameras shut off. Show’s over.
With the queue that the camera was indeed speeding, Joy’s on-air persona flooded over and she shook her head, smiling at Wade, “The referee might actually be dead.”
“Which raises the question of: did he deserve it? No, absolutely not. You never put your hands on the official when you’re out there, no matter what happens. If they make a miscall, then so be it. They’re out there doing their jobs, and their job isn’t to fight the competitors.” Wade reached under the table, where he kept his snacks, and withdrew a can of Pringles — original of course — and popped a couple into his mouth, crunching them thoughtfully. “Caiden Winters is going to be fired, you know. And he deserves it. Or, at least suspended.”
Joy visibly grimace in front of the camera. Yeah, no. She was going going to argue her point. The referee deserved ‘dying’ because he failed to do his JOB. “Y’know, Wade, you don’t notice the referee unless he makes a bad call. And here tonight, he made a call that could ruin an exceptionally talented wrestler’s career. I’d like to think we’re all referees at heart. We like to call the throws and errors. Caiden Winters is indispensable. He’s far too loved and far too talented. Losing him would cause unwarranted backlash for the AWE.”
Wade shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t get me wrong, I love him as much as the next person, maybe more than anyone else, but I don’t think it’d be that huge of a dent. The shadow is always filled in the end. Nobody here is fully indispensable.” Wade explained as he crunched on some Pringles, nodding to accentuate his point. “Putting your hands on an innocent official is just as reprehensible as cheating to win.”
Narrowing her eyes at her mentor, Joy didn’t respond for a brief second. He was doing this on purpose. She was already heated and this was doubling that. “Oh? So you’re saying that not even Drayden is fully indispensable?” she challenged Wade. This. Was. War. “If a referee can’t do his job he shouldn’t be out there calling the shots and determining the AWE history.”
“Yeah, I would happily argue that Drayden isn’t indispensable. I believe fully that everyone in the AWE could be in that spot — and maybe before tonight, I thought it was a certainty that Caiden would be stepping up to the plate to take that spot, but I don’t know anymore. Maybe he’s not what I thought he was, maybe he’s not what any of us thought he was. These things happen, and I know it sucks that the referee didn’t see it, but… you have to look at it from his perspective. The ref calls it as he sees it; he doesn’t have eyes in the back of his head. He had to cover up the turnbuckle that was exposed when the low blow happened, he was thoroughly distracted. He was doing his job.” A couple more moments of getting her riled up, then he’d call Caiden on.
“And now he’s dead.” Joy looked away from Wade and to the camera, grabbing her glass of water and lifting it up to the audience, “Ain’t that right, fans? He was warned, wasn’t he? Caiden does kill.” she aggressively sipped at her water, fire in her eyes.
Wade shrugged his shoulders, “Well, I guess you can ask him about the situation yourself, because as I’ve just been informed: Caiden Winters is not, as of this moment, either suspended, nor has he been given well wishes for all his future endeavors. In fact, quite the opposite. He’s going to be our guest tonight.” Wade said, and the man himself walked onto the stage, a clear air of frustration and anger around him as he headed onto the set and took a seat next to Joy.
“Now, I don’t really feel like talking, but it turns out Roddy is too scared to let me anywhere near him, so I guess I will. Hi, I’m Caiden Winters, and if you’re wondering, if you should believe what Joy just said, yeah. You should. I’m a killer.”
Wade looked over at Joy, and stuffed a few more Pringles into his mouth, waiting for the inevitable explosion of words.
Joy caught her gaze with Caiden, as her mind instinctively thought about her next course of actions. With a mischievous smirk, she turned her head toward Wade’s direction and tilted her head, still not agreeing with him, “Caiden, I’m so glad you could be here with us tonight, but what I can’t fathom is why Mr. Palmer here thinks the referee was completely innocent, do you agree?”
“No, I don’t. But, I finished my issues with him out there, don’t ya think? I beat his damn ass, and it’ll be a miracle if he makes it to another show. The person that I have a problem with… is the man upstairs. Roddy Quinn. Roderick Quinn. The man who damn near didn’t sign me because he didn’t think I was good enough to wrestle in his stupid company. That title shouldn’t even be decided in a fu— tournament.” Caiden bit his tongue and Wade held back a smile as he took the chance to speak.
“And what do you think should be done for it? The champion won his last title defense —”
“That title should be around my waist! I don’t care if he won the match, I don’t care if Drayden beat me—” Caiden paused for a moment, before spitting out in his best Wade impression, “-- fair and square in the middle of that ring. I kept my promise. I said that Drayden wouldn’t make it out of the arena on his own two feet. And he didn’t. I did say that, you remember, Joy?”
Taking another sip of water, she nodded in agreement, “I sure do. You were the first wrestler on Do or Die. Caiden Winters never breaks his promises. Not then, not today, not ever. And what did you say specifically tonight?” Once again, Joy looked at Wade, enjoying this After Show thoroughly. “You’re dead.”
“That’s right. And you know what else I said? That I am better than the best. I am actually as good as everyone else out there pretends to be, it’s scary. The fact that Roddy thinks he can hold me back, by putting together a tournament, and then putting me against someone who CONSISTENTLY cheats to win. So he cheats. He wins the match on a technicality, and now what? I’m out of it? I don’t get a chance at the world title now? Nobody else in this tournament earned their spot, I earned my right to be the number one contender before I broke his damn knee.” Caiden leaned forward toward the camera, shaking his head. “I’m going to take this show over. One step at a time, and if Roderick Quinn thinks that he can hold me back by screwing me out of what should be my title, then he’d better walk his ass out to the ring and hold me back himself. I’m done playing games.”
Joy’s gaze was fully locked on Caiden now. “And what are you going to do, Caiden Winters? How are you going to get Roddy’s attention? FULL attention?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know.” And with that, Caiden dropped the mic he’d been holding on the floor, pushed himself away from the glass desk, and walked off screen.
“Well, he’s certainly got a chip on his shoulder…”
“I do… want to know.” Joy softly responded, holding her glass of water with both hands. She’d be waiting to see what he had in store for the AWE. She couldn’t wait. | Daniel “DC” “Don’t Call Me Danny” “Danny” “Danny Church” Church
6’ - 184 lbs | 12
|Birth Name |
» Daniel Church
|Hails From |
» Sacramento, California
» October 9th, 1985 (31)
|Job at AWE |
» He does not work at AWE. However, he is often at their events and is friends with more than a few wrestlers and backstage employees. He is a wrestling journalist and posts stories as they come and go, and reviews the shows and matches. He reacts accordingly based on how he feels the company is performing, and has no qualms calling out a wrestler or wrestlers for having a shit match, cutting a shit promo, or calling out the powers that be for making their fucking look like goddamn geeks.
|Skills |
» Smooth talking
» Tech savvy
» Dadskills
» Radio host-esque silky smooth voice
» Good at ranting
|Reason for being here |
» When he was younger, in 2001, Daniel Church had a brilliant idea in his school computers class: he’d build a fucking website. Now, the first thing you had to do when building a website, was pick something you were passionate about… at the time, Danny Church was only really passionate about one thing: PROFESSIONAL WRESTLING. Even at the young age of fifteen, DC had a brilliant mind for coding and built a website that was grand, even for the times. It gained a following, and the forums on it exploded in popularity as the tape traders and more hardcore fans finally found a place to talk and get their opinions out there.
The Smark Remark, the website is known as, and it’s only grown since its original inception in mid-2001. Danny made friends with the right people, and after high school, he passed the day-to-day management of the website over to a team of administrators and moderators. The man himself began a focus on the content creation for the website. He hosted podcasts with wrestlers from all over the world, and he began to rate matches.
Every show he saw, either live or on a tape he bought, he rated the match. Over time, his ratings and opinions got a little controversial, with people arguing about whether he was right or wrong, but he there was one thing they agreed on: he was consistent. He also wrote reports on rumors that he heard, and posted opinions and frequently participated in conversations on the message boards.
Four years after graduating, when Danny was 22, his then girlfriend, Clarissa Whitaker, gave birth to his two beautiful children. Twins, a boy and a girl. Robert and Cynthia, Bobby and Cyn. His babies and his life — other than work. They are turning ten in January of next year, and attend an online school to make it easier on Daniel to travel around for his job. They haven’t seen their mother since they were two; as it turns out, their mother was… crazy, to say the least. After Daniel discovered her drug habits and realized she was a poison in his life, he cut her out and got full custody of his children.
Since then, the single dad life has been the life for him. Working and taking care of two rascals isn’t exactly the easiest lot in life, but… he makes it work. When he was called up by Walter Durrel, who proposed combining their two mediums a few years ago, DC jumped on the opportunity. Together now, they put out podcasts reviewing AWE mostly, as that’s Walter’s preferred company. In return, Danny Church offers the Smark Remark’s website as a new home for the Wrestling Journal. They make a surprisingly good team so far.
|Looks & Style |
» Decked out from head to toe in wrestling gear, Danny doesn’t give a FUCK about how people think of him in public. He’s a hardworking single father, get bent. He’ll sometimes match or contradict his children when they go to the shows — both of his kids are huge fans too.
|Personality Traits |
» Danny is brutal and quick to be critical. He doesn’t listen to the reasons for things sucking and just accepts that they suck. If a wrestler isn’t working at their full capacity because of injuries? Whatever, stop fucking working. Utilize your roster, people.
He’s fun to talk to, and is good at telling stories and ranting and making other people who agree with him happy. He often gets into long winded debates on his podcast with Walter, but as a person Danny honestly looks forward to it every night.
Deep down, he’s just a mark, dude. He loves wrestling, everything about it from the ground up is amazing, and he can’t get enough. The fact that he built something great out of his love for wrestling amazes him to this day, and the Smark Remark is his baby. He enjoys posting on the message boards to this day, and recording the weekly podcasts is something he lovingly looks forward to every day.
It’s his second baby, the thing he loves most right behind his children.
|Favorite wrestler |
» Caiden goddamn fucking Winters, fuck you Roddy for burying the best wrestler to ever grace this goddamn planet. And Retribution. Excited for him to come, which I'M SURE HE'LL DO EVENTUALLY ONCE RODERICK QUINN PULLS HIS HEAD OUT OF HIS FUCKING ASS. Gethin's a personal favorite too, at least he gets used properly by those idiots.
And fuck you Drayden, I bet you encouraged that shit, didn’t you? Gotta GO OVER EVERYONE. Asshole. And of course, my fucking kid loves you so I have all that stupid merchandise in my fucking HOUSE.
Trinity’s cool too.
And Morgana.
What? I can’t hate the kids’s favorites, I’d be an asshole.
Except for Drayden. Fuck you. And fuck your stupid fat head wall stickers, now you’re stuck to the goddamn wall behind my FUCKING COUCH.
|Rep at AWE |
» Honestly, most people at the AWE don’t really like him. Daniel is loud, brash, and he doesn’t care about calling them out if they do something stupid. If you botch one goddamn move you better believe DC will roast the fuck out of you. You lose a match looking like a geek and hate it? Too goddamn bad, Danny Church knows full well you’re a NERD and you’ll never live it down.
But, he’s undeniably good at the job, and they actually take his ratings seriously. The few wrestlers that Danny fanboys about are quite fond of him, and he does a good podcast that wrestlers try to take advantage of. It can just be hard to deal with someone that’s going to call out every little mistake you make, even when it’s more blamed on the booking team than yourself.
He also has a tendency to post rumors about who’s going to win or lose a match, and rarely checks the validity of his source. Unlike his partner, Walter, Daniel Church is not a journalist. He’s angry millennial who thinks Roderick Quinn is ruining his goddamn favorite thing by blowing Drayden and giving him everything he asks for.
This doesn’t stop every member of the locker room from obsessively checking his reviews, though. Even Roddy does it.
|Other |
» 16a064
» Jensen Ackles. |
49,048 | 1,324 | 21 | 2,573 | 1,662 | The Forming of a Brand
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Diana left Kevin’s office with a massive smile across her face. She was finally getting a chance at TV. Fair enough it wasn’t for a couple of weeks but still, it was finally happening; now all she had to do was capitalise on the opportunity. She turned her head back to look at the mountain of a man that was now following her. Dylan seemed like a sweet enough kid, big, burly but loveable, like a German Shepherd. It was her job now to turn him into a beast, a monster that was going to run through the AWE roster like a hot knife through butter. It would be a hard task but she was the one for the job, she had no doubt about that. She walked through backstage, flanked by the giant workhorse and gaining shocked stares from the backstage crew. It was doubtful any of them had seen someone that big, lord knows Diana hadn’t. Arriving outside the women’s locker room, she turned to Dylan, brushing a strand of loose hair from her face.
”Dylan, sweetheart I’m quickly going to run in and grab my things. Why don’t you go meet some of the guys, I won’t be long”
The gorgeous redhead offered her new charge a slight grin before entering the locker room. She made her way to her gear back and began to pack up her stuff. There was an age old adage in the wrestling business that permeated across all facets of the industry from wrestlers to managers to announcers to the crew; never leave anywhere without your gear.
The women’s locker room wasn’t empty at this point in time, however. Dawn Webster, better known to the AWE as Sydney Ellis, was standing in front of the mirror, applying makeup with one hand whilst the other was massaging a bruise in the side of her body; the result of Rosado’s stiff kicks. Still, Dawn was happy to shift more towards this style. She knew how to block, and how to take a real defensive MMA stance. The act of selling offense without bumping otherwise, she’d always found awkward. Pretending to be hurt when you’re not getting hurt. Dawn would rather actually get hurt and remove the need for acting. She was not a very good actor.
She turned round when she saw another woman enter the room, though it wasn’t anybody she recognised. “Oh, hi!” she blurted out, surprised.
“Didn’t know there was anybody left here! Don’t mind me. I’m almost finished.”
She was still in her ring gear when she said that.
In all fairness, Diana hadn’t noticed anyone in the room when she entered and was somewhat startled by Dawn alerting her to her presence. Spinning on her heel, orange hair spinning wildly, she raised her hand in an awkward wave. ”Hi there! Sorry, I was in a meeting. I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced yet. I’m Suzy but I guess you should probably know me by my other name; Diana. And you are the badass the fans know as Sydney Ellis. It’s nice to meet you” In spite of her confidence in front of a crowd, Diana was still very much a women easily flustered by unexpected situations. It was something she needed to work on. ”I saw your match tonight. You’re amazing out there!” She was rambling. ”I’d be surprised if there isn’t a title run in your future. You are legit”
Diana of course knew who Sydney was; if for nothing else she was a fan of the product first and foremost. Diana had loved this business since she was five years old watching it with her big brother at their father’s house. She watched it religiously, she was obsessed. Even now that she was working in AWE her obsession only got worse. She knew everything about every wrestler (though she would never broadcast her fangirling) and using the same locker room as some of her favourites was a bit of a trip.
Dawn chuckled. Now she understood why she hadn’t recognized Suzy. She was that new manager she’d heard about. Dawn had heard good things about her track record and her ability to give promos. She thought back to Barbie’s promo earlier in the night. A lot of the other women wrestlers would bitch and moan about how Barbie is not a particularly skilled wrestler in the ring and only has the top spot because of her boyfriend. Dawn fundamentally disagreed. Barbie’s promo skills were the envy of Dawn. There was simply more to being a star than the ability to wrestle well.
“You’re flattering me. That wasn’t too long a match, though it was very stiff. You oughtta see what I do on pay-per-views. I don’t see myself becoming champion, though. Champions need to talk, and I’m no talker.” She shrugged, before suddenly having an idea. “You’re a manager, right? Or you were trying to become one. I bet you can cut a good promo. Can you give me some tips?” she asked sincerely.
Diana was somewhat taken back by Dawn’s request. Was there something in the water here in Chicago? She was getting opportunities tonight left right and center. ”Sure, of course I’d like to help out! Kevin literally just put me with a new guy as his heater, we’re debuting in a few weeks. I’ll be working with him a lot so if you’re so inclined you can come and chill with us when you can and we’ll try and hash out a few basic promo skills. Get you on your feet” Working with someone like Dawn would be perfect for Diana. If she couldn’t help the military badass with a few helpful pointers then surely she would be able to convince creative to allow her to manage her? Diana silently felt like she was one step closer to her dream faction.
”Actually, I’m off to go meet Dylan now. Why don’t you get changed and come with?”
“Sure, that sounds like fun!” Dawn replied, before grabbing some sweatpants and a grey jacket from her locker, and putting them on over her ring gear in a non-rushed manner suggesting she did this all the time and in fact came to the arena with her ring gear under her clothes in the first place. She stuffed everything else (towel, boots, army cap) into her bag and flung it over her shoulder. The way it moved, there was definitely something heavy in it. Did she bring weights?
Diana opened the door to the hallway and grabbed her bag before stepping out with Dawn now in tow. ”Shouldn’t be hard to find Dylan. He’s legit as big as the bus” She headed towards the gorilla position, hoping to find her new client standing watching the matches.
Dylan was, indeed, as big as the bus. The large man could be found not at the gorilla position — he had watched much of the show and had only left at the tail end of the main event, because… he was hungry. He was big, big dude. Big dudes take a lot of fuel. What’s fuel? Food is fuel. So he was eating. It was close enough to the gorilla position, and he could see a monitor nearby. Plus, he was huge! Diana wouldn’t ever have any trouble finding him, he was easy to find.
So, there he was, standing near the catering table, and stuffing food into his mouth (at this moment, a large piece of pie). When he saw Diana, who was really the only person he knew very well around these parts, he waved a massive hand. “Hey, Diana. Look what I found. They just give you all this food to eat.” He said, gesturing happily at the catering table. Yeah… the main roster was different than developmental, to say the least.
Dawn had a bit of a shock when she saw Dylan. Diana was not kidding when she said he was as big as the bus. She’d been working in this company for three years now, surrounded by wrestlers, and still thought this guy was a huge, muscle-bound beast! It didn’t help that Dawn herself wasn’t that tall. In fact, standing side-by-side with Diana, it was clear that she was the slightly shorter of the two women.
”Dawn this is Dylan, Dylan this Dawn. She’s going to be working with us on her promo’s” Diana watched the large man eat his extremely big piece of pie and was somewhat taken aback by the simple naivety that he seemed to have. He was like a newborn puppy, brought into a world he did not fully understand; in this case it was the world of pro wrestling and the AWE. ”Glad you’re keeping that strength up, you’ll need it once we debut you” Taking a seat opposite her charge, Diana motioned for Dawn to join them. ”So, where do you want to start?”
Dawn sat down, and leaned back into the chair. “Well,” she started, deep in thought. “I can do intimidating growling and shouting quite well. I just take myself back to my Army days for that. But it always feels really try-hard. It’s the subtle, audience-aggravating kind of stuff I can’t do well. And I was thinking...the Requiem Pay-Per-View is in October, and I’m not sure if I have a match then or not, but I was thinking about giving a promo there, either before my match, or to open the show if I don’t have one. It’d just be nice to actually have some mic presence in my country. I’d probably get a hero’s welcome if I went out there so why not use that?”
”Well…” Before Diana began, she reached her hand into her bag and pulled out her notebook and began to flick through it as quickly as she could. It was filled with ideas on literally everything wrestling related. Her finger stopped on one of the middle pages and she laid it out in front of her on the catering table. ”Being a hometown girl will only work in your favour. You’re gonna get a good reaction either way but from what I know, if you want to truly sell yourself, you big up your prior army experience. Most of our fans at this point are marks and they know everything about us. Uneducated fans will assume your military thing is a gimmick. You shove it down their throats that it’s legit, that you’ve seen combat and for the lack of a better term; it fucked you up so bad you’re now only loyal to the war”
Turning her attention to Dylan, Diana leaned forward and smiled. ”As for you big hoss, we need to start actually trying to find a gimmick for you. I know you wrestle good, Kevin doesn’t lie but being a good wrestler doesn’t make a lick of difference for someone like you. How we sell you is what gets you over...what’s your heritage, Dylan. Where do your family come from?”
Dylan stared at the woman that had asked him the question, as if he didn’t fully understand it. “Well, Texas. The Dallas area, specifically. So, uh, not very interesting. It just so happens that my mama fed me right and my dad made me work on the farm a lot so I got… well, y’know. Big. Real big. I’ve never really thought about my gimmick, people always say that it should just be yourself turned up to 11, right? Well, that sucks. Cuz I’m kind of boring.” Dylan said as he munched on more chipps, frowning a bit. “So we’ll have to come up with something different and unique, I guess.”
Dawn took Diana’s words to heart. She was right. Anybody who didn’t know she was a real soldier needed to be told. She’d have to run this through Roddy, though she could do that at the next show. She then turned her attention to Dylan. His lack of a gimmick was something to think about. When Dawn first started, her gimmick was just that she was strong and won all the time. It was only over time and through her own input that she gradually added military and punk elements and the ‘This is War’ catchphrase, which she was proud of to this day.
“Well,” she started saying to Dylan, “What are your hobbies? Do you have any inspirations? Anything we can draw from? What would your ideal wrestling gimmick be?”
”We’ve got time, big country. We’ll think of something” A small smile crossed her ruby red lips at a little joke she made in her head. ”My family a norse somewhere don’t the line, we could call you the Berserker. Hashtag Viking Strong. Especially if you let the beard grow” Even though it was joke, Diana still drew her pen from behind her ear and wrote it in her notebook, every little helped after all. ”Foreign heel has been done to death and I don’t really envision you has one of those dark, supernaturals Roddy loves so much...the corn-fed meathead shtick would last all of one week, if that. Might need to see you work first, get a feel based on your moveset”
Glancing at her fitbit, Diana noticed the time and grabbed her bag quite roughly. ”We should get going. Got to get to the next town and make some memories” She smiled at the two of them before leading her new motley crew to the parking lot. She waved to Gethin who was getting in his own rent-a-car before making her way to the bus. ”Alrighty big man, let’s see if we can get you in here” | Daniel “DC” “Don’t Call Me Danny” “Danny” “Danny Church” Church
6’ - 184 lbs | 12
|Birth Name |
» Daniel Church
|Hails From |
» Sacramento, California
» October 9th, 1985 (31)
|Job at AWE |
» He does not work at AWE. However, he is often at their events and is friends with more than a few wrestlers and backstage employees. He is a wrestling journalist and posts stories as they come and go, and reviews the shows and matches. He reacts accordingly based on how he feels the company is performing, and has no qualms calling out a wrestler or wrestlers for having a shit match, cutting a shit promo, or calling out the powers that be for making their fucking look like goddamn geeks.
|Skills |
» Smooth talking
» Tech savvy
» Dadskills
» Radio host-esque silky smooth voice
» Good at ranting
|Reason for being here |
» When he was younger, in 2001, Daniel Church had a brilliant idea in his school computers class: he’d build a fucking website. Now, the first thing you had to do when building a website, was pick something you were passionate about… at the time, Danny Church was only really passionate about one thing: PROFESSIONAL WRESTLING. Even at the young age of fifteen, DC had a brilliant mind for coding and built a website that was grand, even for the times. It gained a following, and the forums on it exploded in popularity as the tape traders and more hardcore fans finally found a place to talk and get their opinions out there.
The Smark Remark, the website is known as, and it’s only grown since its original inception in mid-2001. Danny made friends with the right people, and after high school, he passed the day-to-day management of the website over to a team of administrators and moderators. The man himself began a focus on the content creation for the website. He hosted podcasts with wrestlers from all over the world, and he began to rate matches.
Every show he saw, either live or on a tape he bought, he rated the match. Over time, his ratings and opinions got a little controversial, with people arguing about whether he was right or wrong, but he there was one thing they agreed on: he was consistent. He also wrote reports on rumors that he heard, and posted opinions and frequently participated in conversations on the message boards.
Four years after graduating, when Danny was 22, his then girlfriend, Clarissa Whitaker, gave birth to his two beautiful children. Twins, a boy and a girl. Robert and Cynthia, Bobby and Cyn. His babies and his life — other than work. They are turning ten in January of next year, and attend an online school to make it easier on Daniel to travel around for his job. They haven’t seen their mother since they were two; as it turns out, their mother was… crazy, to say the least. After Daniel discovered her drug habits and realized she was a poison in his life, he cut her out and got full custody of his children.
Since then, the single dad life has been the life for him. Working and taking care of two rascals isn’t exactly the easiest lot in life, but… he makes it work. When he was called up by Walter Durrel, who proposed combining their two mediums a few years ago, DC jumped on the opportunity. Together now, they put out podcasts reviewing AWE mostly, as that’s Walter’s preferred company. In return, Danny Church offers the Smark Remark’s website as a new home for the Wrestling Journal. They make a surprisingly good team so far.
|Looks & Style |
» Decked out from head to toe in wrestling gear, Danny doesn’t give a FUCK about how people think of him in public. He’s a hardworking single father, get bent. He’ll sometimes match or contradict his children when they go to the shows — both of his kids are huge fans too.
|Personality Traits |
» Danny is brutal and quick to be critical. He doesn’t listen to the reasons for things sucking and just accepts that they suck. If a wrestler isn’t working at their full capacity because of injuries? Whatever, stop fucking working. Utilize your roster, people.
He’s fun to talk to, and is good at telling stories and ranting and making other people who agree with him happy. He often gets into long winded debates on his podcast with Walter, but as a person Danny honestly looks forward to it every night.
Deep down, he’s just a mark, dude. He loves wrestling, everything about it from the ground up is amazing, and he can’t get enough. The fact that he built something great out of his love for wrestling amazes him to this day, and the Smark Remark is his baby. He enjoys posting on the message boards to this day, and recording the weekly podcasts is something he lovingly looks forward to every day.
It’s his second baby, the thing he loves most right behind his children.
|Favorite wrestler |
» Caiden goddamn fucking Winters, fuck you Roddy for burying the best wrestler to ever grace this goddamn planet. And Retribution. Excited for him to come, which I'M SURE HE'LL DO EVENTUALLY ONCE RODERICK QUINN PULLS HIS HEAD OUT OF HIS FUCKING ASS. Gethin's a personal favorite too, at least he gets used properly by those idiots.
And fuck you Drayden, I bet you encouraged that shit, didn’t you? Gotta GO OVER EVERYONE. Asshole. And of course, my fucking kid loves you so I have all that stupid merchandise in my fucking HOUSE.
Trinity’s cool too.
And Morgana.
What? I can’t hate the kids’s favorites, I’d be an asshole.
Except for Drayden. Fuck you. And fuck your stupid fat head wall stickers, now you’re stuck to the goddamn wall behind my FUCKING COUCH.
|Rep at AWE |
» Honestly, most people at the AWE don’t really like him. Daniel is loud, brash, and he doesn’t care about calling them out if they do something stupid. If you botch one goddamn move you better believe DC will roast the fuck out of you. You lose a match looking like a geek and hate it? Too goddamn bad, Danny Church knows full well you’re a NERD and you’ll never live it down.
But, he’s undeniably good at the job, and they actually take his ratings seriously. The few wrestlers that Danny fanboys about are quite fond of him, and he does a good podcast that wrestlers try to take advantage of. It can just be hard to deal with someone that’s going to call out every little mistake you make, even when it’s more blamed on the booking team than yourself.
He also has a tendency to post rumors about who’s going to win or lose a match, and rarely checks the validity of his source. Unlike his partner, Walter, Daniel Church is not a journalist. He’s angry millennial who thinks Roderick Quinn is ruining his goddamn favorite thing by blowing Drayden and giving him everything he asks for.
This doesn’t stop every member of the locker room from obsessively checking his reviews, though. Even Roddy does it.
|Other |
» 16a064
» Jensen Ackles. |
49,049 | 1,324 | 22 | 2,180 | 2,019 | VS.
Chris Dent
The arena was silent for a few long moments. Nobody knew what was going to happen next. There was no activity. Nobody knew what to expect. Then something strange happened; The AWE main theme played and the titantron showed the text in black and white 'Local talent;
Chris Dent' which got a few cheers from the local indie fans who knew the wrestler from his work in the local indie scene. He was known for being a really good wrestler and having no other gimmick to speak of, and his treatment by the AWE reflected this. His presentation was so plain and generic, it was refreshingly different. To the main theme being his entrance music, but the very basic titantron, to the plain black ring gear, boots armpads and trunks. He wasn't a vanilla midget but his build was average for a wrestler, his hair was long and he had a goatee. If one wrestler could embody the word 'wrestler', it was this guy; Chris Dent. His utter forgetfulness made him memorable.
He walked straight to the ring and climbed the steps to climb through the ropes in a truly unremarkable fashion, after which he calmly paced, waiting for his opponent.
Then the telltale rising pitch of a better-known wrestler started, and the lights turned purple. The crown immediately started cheering and booing in equal succession, but there was no doubt about it. The crowd was ignited! The reason why would become clear as the rising pitched sound reached it's end and a sea of purple fireworks showered the stage as both the song and the titantron mirrored each other in presenting the words "I AM THE ONE AND ONLY!" and standing in the glow of the fireworks, with his fist raised, and wearing silver trunks and knee-high purple boots and gloves, was Oscar O'Sullivan.
And it was true. As he made his way to the ring, preening and posing for the booing fans up the ramp, and offering hands to children only to rip them away to the child's anguish, he really was the one and only. Face or heel, Oscar was a through-and-through superstar. He was the exact opposite of Chris Dent in every way. For eleven years, Oscar had been a joy to watch. From his midcard feuds with wrestlers long since retired, to his World Title win, to his feud with Drayden which will forever go down in the annals of AWE history. He'd spend a lit of time recently in the lower midcard, with a brief push straight after his injury, but his skill at not just wrestling, but character work was a double edged sword. He was a useful tool to elevate other stars. He could make anyone feel important, and thus that's what his task had become. But no matter what position on the card he was in, the crowd loved him.
When Oscar reached the ring, and he and Chris faced off; the two most different styles of character one could hope to see in the same ring,
the bell wrong, and they immediately started to grapple, and to the surprise and shock of the audience, Chris pushed Oscar to the floor.
It was at that moment that Chris suddenly started getting cheered properly for the first time in the night. They grappled again, and this time circled each other, but the moment Chris shielded Oscar from the ref's line of sight, Oscar delivered a swift knee below the belt and then caught Chris in a headlock, which was held for long enough, Oscar gauged, for the loud boos Oscar was getting for such a despicable act to die down. Oscar then called "Now" to Chris, too quiet and subtle for the cameras to pick up, and Chris slipped out of the headlock and twisted Oscar's arm painfully around, which, once the cheers had started to die down, was reversed into Oscar's own armlock, and then Oscar kicked the man's legs from under him and started to choke him before the ref pulled him away. The crowd were being taken on a rollercoaster, but Oscar didn't want to wear them out, just keep them hot for the rest of the night, and he eased off and started to pace Chris like a hungry lion while the younger indie guy recovered. Oscar then ran at Chris, but he leapfrogged over the heel and started to turn round, but was caught by a Pele kick to the face, followed by a Second Rope Moonsault, but Oscar didn't cover. Instead he gestured to Chris' prone body as if you say 'Do you guys believe I'm fighting this pathetic nobody'.
While Chris was still writhing, Oscar climbed to the top rope, and raised his fist, which used to be a sign that he was about to his the Six-Axis, a fan favourite move, but fans knew better. Heel Oscar would gesture for the move and hit a knee drop instead, and fans knew not to get their hopes up anymore. Sure enough, he leapt knee first, but Chris put his own knees up and Oscar landed painfully onto them.
As Chris stood up, now Oscar was writhing. This time, Chris went to the top rope and delivered a Swanton Bomb to Oscar. The crowd roared excitement, and the commentary team lost their shit screaming assorted phrases like 'No! No!' and 'It's gonna happen!' and 'What an upset! If Oscar is beaten in round one by local talent!'
Chris made the cover. 1....2...kick out. Oscar kicked out incredibly close. The crowd went wild. This was amazing T.V.! Oscar and Chris both slowly got to their feet and stared at each other, and as they did Oscar realised that it was time to wrap up this quick match lest the audience get burned out, and Gethin's match was next. Oscar wanted them hot for that one! He charged Chris who made a move to grab Oscar but he dropped to his knees and slid under Chris' reach, getting back to his feet without breaking stride, rebounding off the ropes and delivering a flying knee to Chris' face, flooring the local talent. He then dragged the younger wrestler up painfully by his hair,
Chris' cries being picked up loud and clear by the mics so that they didn't get drowned out by the cascade of boos. He then set Chris up for a Crucifix Cutter, hit the move, made the cover, 1, 2, 3. Oscar had beaten the local talent and moved on to round 2 of the tournament. The smarks were cheering as hard as they could, and the casual or local fans were booing. The crowd hadn't had a second of silence throughout the short match. As Oscar made his way to the back, followed shortly after by Chris, that was when the crowd finally started to die down. Oscar had made Chris look good, which in turn made Oscar look good as he'd just beaten a good wrestler as opposed to just some jobber. Chris' career will also get better after this. Literally nobody lost. Oscar O'Sullivan really was the One and Only. | is no monster under your bed, because I'm right here.
6”8 – 130kg| Eight Years Of Experience
|Birth Name |
»Andrew Gosforth
|Hails From |
»Paisley, Scotland
»April 7th, 1986 (31)
|Fighting Style |
» Hector is a large man, and as such has a large arsenal of power moves, but what sets him apart from other powerhouses is his in-ring psychology, mindgames and theatrics. In his gimmick’s newest incarnation, will sometimes hurt himself just to unnerve his opponent, as well as relish in the pain of his opponent instead of fighting to win quickly. A Hector match can be an uncomfortable watch, and sometimes won’t even feel PG even though it breaks no rules.
|Signature Moves |
» Daddy’s Awake (Spear/Double Leg Takedown hybrid with theatrics)
» Nightmare Drop
» Chokeslam Backbreaker
» Lifting Spinebuster
|Finisher |
» Straightjacket Neckbreaker
» Dreamcatcher
|Theme |
» Old Theme:
» New Theme:
|Backstage Rep |
»’Hector’ had enjoyed success as a big guy with the gimmick of an insane slasher villain, though this translated to cheesy effects, mind games and blackout attacks every other week. He was never a world champion though he did briefly hold the IC belt, and had an upper-card feud with Drayden during one of the rare instances when he wasn’t champion or challenging for the championship. This all came to an end over a year ago when Andrew had to go through a messy divorce, and took time off to return to Scotland and deal with that. He was written off TV by being set of fire from one of the chemicals of Dr. Sinister off the back of a feud with The creation, and then he was gone.
Several months ago, he came back for training, and to people’s surprise, it’s as if he was never gone. She’s the same old chatty, friendly big scot who enjoys a drink, and he had very little ring rust. He fell back into place in the AWE machine and is now ready to return to the ring, though his debut is still being held off until after the tournament. Personally, Andrew isn’t sure his character still fits in with an industry that’s gearing towards a more realistic, MMA style populated by small, fast guys with realistic names and characters, or maybe that just means he’s needed more than ever.
|Gimmick |
» Hector’s new gimmick is far more genuinely scary and intense than his old one. He is now a deranged psychopath, and even though there are still blackout attacks and lighting effects, Hector is framed less of a supernatural monster than he was in his previous run and far more of an ordinary albeit twisted and deranged human, and therefore all the more unsettling for it, as he seems real now. He will wear creepy masks, give nonsensical promos that make the interviewer uncomfortable, stalk his feuding opponents backstage in skits and during their promos, ect. His mindgames are a thing of beauty now. Rather than before, where every opponent would get the same thing (dolls, abandoned asylums, little girls), now each feud’s mindgames are tailored towards the fears and insecurities of his opponents and a big deal will be made of him getting inside their heads.
|Face or Heel |
» Indiscriminate Heel
|Other |
» Face Claim – Rory McCann |
49,050 | 1,324 | 23 | 2,180 | 2,019 | JP CARLING
JP had been on the go since maybe…4am? Though this wasn’t unusual for the latest addition to the booking team. In the short three months, he had been with the AWE, John Paul had already earned a bit of a reputation amongst his peers. Considered as the mad scientist of the booking lads (as they are collectively known), JP has become known for constantly scribbling down ideas for angles and characters on anything he can get his hands on, a napkin, a towel…the walls of certain venues…it didn’t really matter. If JP could write on it, he would write on it. Getting to the arena early was no new thing for the young writer; he barely slept as it was so running around throughout the day to make sure the show would work was no surprise. He did have a habit of changing things on the fly which irked some but was thought refreshing by others.
John Paul had never been to the Staples Centre before, it was pretty sweet if he said so himself. The previous night, himself, Kevin and Gary had locked themselves in a hotel room with pizza, caffeine and booze and tried throw ideas at the wall for the next few upcoming shows and storylines. Drayden’s injury and subsequent absence had caused a fair but of change to their plans but this was no long term issue. The lads were fresh eyes on an old product, each young, hungry and talented. They hoped that their passion and enthusiasm would breathe new life into the AWE product. It had to, their jobs depended on it.
Arriving in the locker gorilla position, to no ones surprise JP was in his own world. He had his head phones on and he was grooving along to his own personal soundtrack. Today it was Nirvana, tomorrow who knows? He didn’t plan that far ahead. ”What’s up everyone? Here is the match card for tonight. Read it, memorize it, love it. Any questions we’ll be around as always. Let’s burn this place down”
Match 1: Tourney Match – Owen Sparks (W) vs Kidd Neon
Segment 1: Morgana Promo (Sydney Staredown)
Match 2: Tourney Match - Oscar O’Sullivan (W) vs Local Competitor
Segment 2: Joy Ryder interview with Gethin Rhys
Match 3: Tourney Match - The Creation (W) vs Local Competitor
Match 4: Tourney Match - Gethin Rhys (W) vs Local Competitor
Segment 3: Hype Package for the Re-Debut of Hector
Main Event: Tourney Match - Sexton PS Love vs Thunderbird (W)
To some it was surprise when JP first arrived that he was a writer and not a wrestler. The kid was tall, in great shape, handsome. Roddy could probably do some good things with him. Unfortunately his medical issues prevented him from ever stepping in the ring, though that never really deterred the young man. He was a fan first and foremost and getting the chance to write for some of the best characters on TV was a dream come true. Especially Morgana, she was a dream…he would marry her one day. With the card pinned up on the wall, JP headed off to go create more madness for AWE.
”Welcome to the world of Gods and Monsters” | is no monster under your bed, because I'm right here.
6”8 – 130kg| Eight Years Of Experience
|Birth Name |
»Andrew Gosforth
|Hails From |
»Paisley, Scotland
»April 7th, 1986 (31)
|Fighting Style |
» Hector is a large man, and as such has a large arsenal of power moves, but what sets him apart from other powerhouses is his in-ring psychology, mindgames and theatrics. In his gimmick’s newest incarnation, will sometimes hurt himself just to unnerve his opponent, as well as relish in the pain of his opponent instead of fighting to win quickly. A Hector match can be an uncomfortable watch, and sometimes won’t even feel PG even though it breaks no rules.
|Signature Moves |
» Daddy’s Awake (Spear/Double Leg Takedown hybrid with theatrics)
» Nightmare Drop
» Chokeslam Backbreaker
» Lifting Spinebuster
|Finisher |
» Straightjacket Neckbreaker
» Dreamcatcher
|Theme |
» Old Theme:
» New Theme:
|Backstage Rep |
»’Hector’ had enjoyed success as a big guy with the gimmick of an insane slasher villain, though this translated to cheesy effects, mind games and blackout attacks every other week. He was never a world champion though he did briefly hold the IC belt, and had an upper-card feud with Drayden during one of the rare instances when he wasn’t champion or challenging for the championship. This all came to an end over a year ago when Andrew had to go through a messy divorce, and took time off to return to Scotland and deal with that. He was written off TV by being set of fire from one of the chemicals of Dr. Sinister off the back of a feud with The creation, and then he was gone.
Several months ago, he came back for training, and to people’s surprise, it’s as if he was never gone. She’s the same old chatty, friendly big scot who enjoys a drink, and he had very little ring rust. He fell back into place in the AWE machine and is now ready to return to the ring, though his debut is still being held off until after the tournament. Personally, Andrew isn’t sure his character still fits in with an industry that’s gearing towards a more realistic, MMA style populated by small, fast guys with realistic names and characters, or maybe that just means he’s needed more than ever.
|Gimmick |
» Hector’s new gimmick is far more genuinely scary and intense than his old one. He is now a deranged psychopath, and even though there are still blackout attacks and lighting effects, Hector is framed less of a supernatural monster than he was in his previous run and far more of an ordinary albeit twisted and deranged human, and therefore all the more unsettling for it, as he seems real now. He will wear creepy masks, give nonsensical promos that make the interviewer uncomfortable, stalk his feuding opponents backstage in skits and during their promos, ect. His mindgames are a thing of beauty now. Rather than before, where every opponent would get the same thing (dolls, abandoned asylums, little girls), now each feud’s mindgames are tailored towards the fears and insecurities of his opponents and a big deal will be made of him getting inside their heads.
|Face or Heel |
» Indiscriminate Heel
|Other |
» Face Claim – Rory McCann |
49,051 | 1,324 | 24 | 1,435 | 3,654 | GETHIN RHYS VS CHAD 2 BADD
The Staples Centre descended into darkness as the lights went black. This could be a prelude to the entrance of many of the AWE’s finest in ring performers. Yet when the unmistakable retro synth beat began to bleed into the arena through the speakers, it meant only one thing; Gethin Rhys was coming. Purple flames began to rise across the titantron before the Welsh Dragon’s name appeared in cursive. The dull blue spotlight effortlessly blended with the 80’s neon to reveal the chiselled human torture device standing atop the stage. There was no flash Rhys; his ring gear was simple enough; black trunks, kickpads, boots and gumshield. The only design being the Welsh flag on the front of his trunks. As the tempo increased, the pinks turned into blood reds and the lingering cheers transformed into a thundering storm of boos and jeers. None of this would matter as Gethin began his deliberately slow and sinister walk to the thing he called home; the squared circle. His eyes were filled with pain and their gaze had not left the cowering young man who stood in the far corner of the ring.
Gethin Rhys was the most dangerous man in AWE; everyone knew it. Other wrestlers were more technically sound true; others were more charismatic but none could turn up the intensity like Gethin, none could make you more scared for a performer than him. He was often named the most violent wrestler on the planet and for good reason. He had been seduced by the glow of violence from an early age. It had enthralled him, it had warped him into what he was today. Some called him a monster. Gethin Rhys was not a monster, he was an artist; a brutal artist and the ring was his canvass. Tonight would be the start of his masterpiece.
He entered the ring as the lights came back up to normal; his eyes had not once left his opponent. Chad 2 Badd was his name or something like that. It didn’t really matter because Gethin was going to eat him alive. As usual, the ref had already placed his hands on Gethin’s chest to stop him from tearing the poor little sods heart out before the bell even rung. A sick smile crossed the Welshman’s face as the referee called for the bell to start the contest.
Chad of course went for the collar and elbow tie up. That wasn’t going to work for the man from Cardiff. In an instant, Gethin had already planted Mr 2 Badd into the ground with an arched yakuza kick straight from the corner to the young lads face. Within a millisecond, he was on top of his opponent, raining down hard open handed strikes to his head and neck. Of course not a single one of these actually connected, Gethin was a professional after all and protecting your partner was part of the craft. He threw a final strike before whispering into Chad’s ear ”Corner spot” Getting to his feet, Gethin shoved his fingers into Chad’s open mouth and grabbed his upper jaw, with a hard yank he began to drag the terrified youngster to the corner before pulling him to his feet. Pulling his hand free, the brutal artist slapped Chad 2 Badd again before leaping and driving a stiff knee into his opponents chin.
“YOU SICK FUCK! YOU SICK FUCK! YOU SICK FUCK!”
The crowds disdain was like ecstasy for Gethin as a wry smile crept upon his lips. As he approached Chad again, the plucky youngster pressed both his hands forward into Gethin’s gut with a double palm strike. Seeing an opportunity, Chad went after his winded foe with a few more hard strikes. The Welsh Dragon burst into a fit of laughter as he motioned for Chad to continue hitting him. With every blow, Rhys began to laugh more and more before finally he switched gears. One, two slap to the face, right leg kick and a spinning left heel kick to the gut and Chad was hunched over. Gethin hooked the legs from beneath his opponent, sending him to a seated position and setting him up for vintage Rhys. The Dragon ran the ropes and sure enough he struck with a devastatingly stiff penalty kick to the chest of 2 Badd. Gethin’s strikes were best in the game, no one could deny that fact. The crowds massive cheers with every successful strike was testament to the fact.
Raising a single finger to his lips, Gethin began to shush the crowd and they did what they were told. They knew what was coming. Grabbing Chad 2 Badd’s left hand, the ruthless ring general pulled him to his feet before tearing the fingers apart with his signature finger snap move. The crack of the bone echoed throughout the arena followed by sudden thump of foreheads as Gethin cracked Chad with a headbutt.
YOU SICK FUCK! YOU SICK FUCK! YOU SICK FUCK!
The crowd began again and they were right. All of this was just overkill. Gethin could have finished this with one move but that’s not how the surgeon of this theatre operated. Blood began to seep lightly from beneath Rhys hairline and he grinned again. Chad 2 Badd was out but it wasn’t over. There was one last thing to do. As the blood trickled down his head, Gethin closed let out a sigh of release. He took a knee and wrapped his arm around his opponents neck in a dragon sleeper before modifying it by interlocking his far hand behind his back with the other. This version of the dragon sleeper was known as the Owari Death Clutch and Gethin had said he was going to bring it to the AWE. Chad 2 Badd did not even tap out from the End Waltz, his body was limp and as the bell rang Gethin took a second before releasing him.
”Thanks brother” Gethin whispered before getting to his feet and listening to the announcers confirm his advancement in the AWE tournament and the crowd jeer him with a small patter embracing his brutality.
”PRO VIOLENCE! PRO VIOLENCE! PRO VIOLENCE!” | I see you!
The best things in life are dangerous, like me.
5' ¾", 106 lbs - 5'8", 135 lbs
2 years Developmental, will debut soon with her husband
3 Years at AWE, 2 years at Developmental. 5 years total.
|Birth Name |
» Alice Jane Slayer (Kennedy)
» Ariel Michelle Slayer (Flanagan)
|Hails From |
» Atlanta, GA
» April 17 (26)
» October 22 (23)
|Backstage Rep |
» You got all these sweethearts dressed as bitches, guess what? Ari is a fucking bitch on and off the ring. She does not like you. It takes her a LONG time to accept you into her world because your flaws are blaring red and she fucking hates it. Some people do not get the concept of personal space. If she's doing her own thing, don't interrupt her. She enjoys dark humor, other people's drama, and crude people. Constantly observing her surroundings, she will size you up before you approach her. Ruthless. Entitled. & Impatient. She was never fond of dealing with people, which is honestly her biggest weakness on the ring. Charisma, that is. It isn't something that comes naturally to her like it does for her little sister.
As flawed as Ari is, those she does let in, like her husband, Michael Flanagan, know that she does mean well, but due to personal experiences, her built mechanism of verbally lashing out at people to protect her own, has gotten to a point where she can't really break it down over night. Ari is a tough cookie and audaciously bold. A risk taker, through and through. A primadonna is an understatement of her personality and Ari refuses to be considered less than. She aims to be in the big leagues, even if it means she might break a few bones...
You see, she and Michael were already dating prior to their debut at AWE, which was near the same time. It wasn't hard for him to gain attraction because even if he leans more on the timid side when he's out of character, he's a phenomenal heel and it shined through since day 1. Ari, however, spent her first two years figuring out her image. She was simply a blank canvas, a doll of a woman, and a temperamental wrestler, who fought well enough to get her to the mid card but required A LOT of polishing, as she tried her downright best to 'find herself' in the ring.
A year ago, Michael and her got married, and for a year, the writers have been pushing her more toward his storyline to enhance his biker boy look and guess what? It's working. People are starting to see the character behind the bitch. While Ajax is the tail gunner of his motorcycle gang, Fallen Angels, she is his queen. The Bonnie to his Clyde, who knows her way around her gun, or in this case the ring, and isn't afraid to use that to her advantage. She's a tough-talking, quick-shooting criminal and is growing to be a machine gun-blazing woman who you better not underestimate. Whenever she's threatened, she doesn't even flinch, she jumps right in and marks her territory. Fearless and it's all thanks to the writers pushing her more in the direction of the rebel girl archetype because it's something Ariel can actually relate to.
Fun fact: She isn't fond of motorcycles, but for love, she'll get on one.
» Amore hasn't debuted yet, but her face is known backstage because of her sister. The young, energetic valet aspires to be as influential as Jezebel (FC: Jessa Hinton), who was the Faceless' on-screen eye candy and eventual wife. Jezebel may have made the Faceless seem more humane, but Amore? She wants to do more than be an accessory for her love. Revolutionize the role of valets all over! At the root of it all, Alice is a business woman, who doesn't just want to 'accompany' her husband when she's on the ring with him. She wants to get heavily involved in the action inside, outside, within the audience-- ANYWHERE. A dreamer, the doll aims to earn the loudest pops of the night. Her beloved Benjamin tells her she has a niche and that is her charisma. Her stage presence. When Amore is in the spotlight, there is no doubt people will be starstruck.
Sneaky, cunning, and without hesitation, Amore will do absolutely anything for Mordecai to heighten his chances of winning. It helps that she has one sexy act that no one can top. Rated R, sexy-goodness. She acts like a child, but moves her body like a woman. Her influence is undeniable and even if wrestling isn't her top skill (it's singing and acting), she will go down in history!
As for backstage? A lovable, naive, playful and misleading young adult. Careless and foolish. Accidental prone when she isn't performing. Alice doesn't want to grow up, so she'll act far younger than she is. Oh, and she's scary possessive over her husband.
|Other |
» FCs: Kerli Kõiv & Jana
» 721728 & 324C83
|Fighting Style |
» Ari keeps you on your toes, you never know what to expect and has a passion for power. Known for her agility, high stunts, and her attitude, Ari, from the get go, set her sight on cleaning up the Divas division, showing that girls were more than accessories and tools. Even her sister, who does strut her body like it's nobody's business, isn't just that. A body. Amore is a character, whose insanity and giggles will be what the people remember. Psychotic little girl trapped in a woman's form.
Meanwhile, Ari has commitment to excellence and wants to be recognized as a professional wrestler, with Ajax by her side. Her goal: to be one of the most vicious Divas of her era. She doesn't even have to be one of the stars, she just wants to be scary. Although she isn't there yet, she will continue to work her ass off. Her current success is all thanks to her athleticism, hotheaded personality, impressive arsenal of offensive maneuvers, and her husband's biker persona.
Ari has countless ways of finishing her opponents and she will not give into status quo. A true queen of the rebels.
|Signature Moves |
» Highside (Diving Hurricanrana)
» Ari Bomb (Lita Bomb)
» Eating Asphalt (Swanton Bomb)
» Helmet Head (Hardiac Arrest)
|Finisher |
» Boneyard Moonsault (Moonsault)
» New Prime (Widow's Peak)
|Theme |
» Whatever she had before, doesn't matter. Now she has Superhuman to match Ajax.
|Gimmick |
» As said earlier in backstage rep, Ari is Ax's Bonnie to his Clyde. His ride or die. They have a fiery dynamic and shower each other with attention. They are motivated by chasing the danger, excitement, and action of wrestling. He's the gun, she's the trigger. If Ari isn't happy, Ajax is pissed. He might be the King of the Hill but without his queen, the high of living it dangerous 24/7 isn't as addicting. They're into each other in a visceral and physical way. There is a sense of co-dependency and downright bat-shit insanity between these two. Ariel even went out of her way to get 'His' tattoo on her lower back, to match Michael's "Hers" tattoo on his arm, to add to their act (when he wraps his arm around her, the audience would know - she belongs to him). A psychotic and possessive love story where their need for one another is absolutely dangerous for anyone, including each other.
Soon enough, the audience will learn crazy runs in the Slayer family because when Amore makes her debut, they'll see that the blonde is light years ahead in the insanity department.
As for fashion sense? Ari is a daredevil biker chick. Leather jacket with the Fallen Angels symbol, bustiers to showcase her stomach and her back (especially when her coat is off), leather boots, denim, the color scheme black and white, bandannas, anything really that makes her look like a total badass.
|Face or Heel |
» Heel
|Job at AWE |
» Amore will be a valet for Mordecai, who is her husband off screen.
|Skills |
» Persistent and high physical stamina
Charming and full of energy, Alice is an energetic doer, cheerful and extremely spontaneous. A true woman of action. Even if she doesn't seem it, she has strong observational skills and a keen sense to other people's feelings. Quite the problem solver, regardless of her outlandish methods. This spirited blonde would like to think she's an excellent diplomat and negotiator, especially when it comes to her pitching ideas. By nature, she's too open and direct to deliberately manipulate someone (lies and manipulation is foreign to her, unless it's for an act), but she will fight her cause until there isn't any fight left in her.
» Improviser
Perceptive, witty, and clever. Rarely missing anything that is important, because she approaches everything with curiosity and interest, Alice will take impossible situations and make 'em great. Her memory for details and facts are impressive. She absorbs everything that interests her like a sponge, storing it in her noggin for later use.
» Dancing, acting, and gymnastic experience.
Pretty point blank, Alice kept her family busy by getting them to sign her up to as much as possible so she can get better at... life. Also, with such a busy schedule when she was younger, she didn't need to be home, which was a far more pleasant option than dealing with the turmoil. Her home life drew her insane. Convincing her parents to get her involved in the community was the easy part, making them part of it, her life, though? Not so much.
» Odd & blessed with boundless creativity
Alice has always been a little weirdo. Too much individuality for one girl. And yet, she doesn't know how to be any different. Sure, some of her creative ideas are concerning and creepy, but why should she limit herself? If her mind wants to run rampant, it should! Being different isn't a bad thing and Alice will never change for anyone.
|Looks & Style |
» Inspired by her aunt, who led a broken family with dignity and grace, Amore strives to be a visual masterpiece. Her aunt was a woman who carried whatever she wore like a queen. A queen who had an undeniable ability to live a life of pure kindness. Alice's goal, no matter where she is, or if she's being Amore or not, is to make her image timeless. Definitive and iconic, to where it is her trademark. Her look. A look that pushes boundaries and continues to evolve. Alice wants to be a trend setter, a walking fashion statement, and when people look at their television screen or see her on the ring, she wants them to recognize her immediately and maybe, just maybe, follow her as an example. If she can aspire others to walk with an air of confidence, loving who they were, while also not being afraid to explore out of the box, then her life would be more than fulfilled.
What more could you ask for? She's happily married, she has endless projects that make her smile, she's about to start the career of her life that will hopefully set her on a remarkable path of happiness and success, and if she's able to move someone or an entire audience in ways not many people can, then she can say she is more than satisfied with the life she's been given.
Hardships aside. Alice is a happy girl.
|Personality Traits |
» Visionary → Imaginative → Fun-Loving → Gregarious → Persistent → Dutiful (even if she is unbeknownst to the fact that she's a tease) → Exuberant → Trusting → Picky → Dependent → Reckless → Fearful (primarily of her husband leaving her)
|Favorite wrestler |
» She's biased. Her husband, even if he hasn't made his mark yet. Alice will make it known that he's HER favorite. |
49,052 | 1,324 | 25 | 1,117 | 49 | In collaboration with .
And and on commentary.
A slightly nervous Ian, now ready to go as Owen Sparks, stood behind the curtain. He gave his arms one final stretch before the shredding of the electric guitar in his theme song began. After Sexton’s insightful words from the week prior, Owen stepped out from behind the curtain, microphone in hand, and began to walk down the ramp of Shock ‘n’ Awe.
“Los Angeles, how’s it going?!” The crowd gave cheers here and there, though none were as big as a proper, well-known wrestler like Caiden or Drayden. Listening to Sexton’s advice, Owen continued.
“You know, I’ve always loved this place. California seems like the place to be, and I’m going to prove that I deserve to be here.” Owen walked up the steel stairs beside the ring and onto the apron. “Tonight, I face Kidd Neon.” He then went in between the middle and top ropes, and stepped into the center of the ring. “And Kidd Neon doesn’t deserve to be here. I am here to show you that I deserve to be in this championship tournament. I am going to prove-”
“And it looks like Kidd Neon doesn’t want to hear any of what Owen has to say. And, really, who can blame him? Two young upstarts are getting a chance to showcase their abilities here.”
The auto-tuned voice of Kidd Neon’s theme song played over the arena’s loud speakers, interrupting Owen. Kidd Neon stepped out onto the ramp, throwing his hands up in the air as he looked out at the crowd. He made his way to the ring, looking like a psychedelic mess with his glowsticks and reflective strips on his pants, and also hiding the fact that he hated his theme music. Owen turned to face his opponent, shielding his eyes from the bright lights the boy produced.
At the ring Kidd Neon approached Owen with a look of contempt on his face, and started speaking into the microphone. Owen held it out for Neon to speak, all the while wearing a nonplussed expression. “I don’t belong here? I’ve traveled into higher states of consciousness and communed with the rave spirit that infuses our lifecore, yet you arrive on the scene and will take my place? You’re just like someone starting a rock band in 2017, an upstart with a stupid dream and no future.” Some boos came out after he took a cheap dig at the crowd’s musical tastes.
“Questionable music tastes aside, it’s time for Neon to prove his point. Does he belong here? The AWE fans don’t think so, and he’s only got this one shot to prove them wrong. Not even the passionate fans of our company from around the world could question if he belongs here if he won the AWE World Championship.”
“Dude, who cares about all that! What is he even ON? The rave spirit? Lifecore? As long as I don’t hear that bass drop again, we’re good.”
Owen couldn’t help but laugh at the verbal attack. “I’m sorry, I should rephrase that; you don’t belong anywhere near a wrestling ring, Neon. Your flashing lights give me migraines and your taste in music isn’t any better.” The crowd politely cheered at Owen’s insults, yet he wasn’t done. “And you think I’ve got a stupid dream, and that I’m going nowhere? Think again. I’m going places, places much higher than you ever have or will.” And with that, Owen dropped his mic, then battered Kidd Neon with a quick forearm. The crowd lit up at the sight of this, and cheers came from all over. Owen beckoned the referee into the ring, who rid the ring of the microphone, and rang the bell.
“And just like that, this match is underway! Let’s see what these two have for us tonight!”
“Y’know, if Kidd actually drops Owen like he drops the bass, I might expect more from him. Better bring the fire.”
Owen wasted no time following up the strike with a rather fake looking right hand, then pressed Neon against the ropes and jerked Neon’s arm towards him, irish whipping Neon to the ropes on the other side of the ring. Without slowing down, Owen ran after Neon, and as Neon turned to bounce off of the ropes, Owen’s right elbow had a rough collision with Neon’s jaw. Owen spun anti-clockwise out of the strike, then backed up to the ropes behind him, where he once more began running, using the ropes to propel himself at a right angle towards Kidd Neon.
As Owen ran, Kidd Neon wrapped his arm around his upper torso and bent his knees, but then paused for a moment, realising the two had screwed up the timing, before pushing him back to the ropes and sending him bouncing off again.
“Look at the defense mindset of Kidd Neon, shoving Sparks away just in time. It doesn’t get better than this.”
On the second approach, Neon got his arm in position and this time jumped into the air, taking Owen by his side with him as he completed the moonsault. Both wrestlers flew into the air and landed on the mat with a crash. Neon got up to his feet right after landing, and started mocking Owen as he laid on the mat, getting into his face and shouting at him.
“Hell to the yeah, ladies and gents. That’s why that mindset pays off. An effortless Energy Flash from the Kidd.”
Without missing a beat, Owen coiled up his legs and as Neon approached he stuck them out, kicking Neon in the stomach. The strike was admittedly a bit stiff, but as they had done many times before, both got into position for their next spot. Kidd Neon backed up into a corner, and Owen ran from the centre of the ring towards him. As Owen got close, he jumped, feet landing on Neon’s waist, and hands clutched his neck. Owen leant back, and as he dropped to the ground and Neon was above him, he kicked his feet up, attempting to monkey flip his opponent. The crowd got riled up for the potential for Owen to gain a quick victory, but those cheers were quickly silenced as Neon, easily flipped out of the hold and to his feet.
Kidd Neon dropped down and rolled out of the ring, then standing and turning to the Los Angeles crowd, full of fans from his hometown and held his arms wide open, expecting to hear cheers from seeing one of their own in the big leagues. And the crowd did cheer, but not for the reason the boy expected. Owen, still inside the ring, bounced off of the ropes opposite to Neon and sprinted towards him. Owen dived in between the middle and bottom ropes, launching himself at Neon. The two both fell to the ground, but Owen quickly stood up to the cheers of many. He stuck a finger up in the air and spun it around, indicating “one more time”.
“Look at the dive from Owen! Crazy athleticism from such a young talent. These two are both kids we’re sure to see around for a long time to come.”
“AWE will make them great. Are we staring at our next champion? WE’LL SEE. They got a lot of competition out there, but at least they got spunk. I’ll give them that.”
Owen climbed back into the ring and jumped up to the turnbuckle closest to Neon. He positioned his feet in a way that would allow him to get a nice jump, but almost slipped doing so, having to bend down and hold onto the corner to stay in his precarious position. Neon slowly stood up and turned to face Owen, acting slightly dazed. As soon as he did, Owen leaped off of the turnbuckle, reaching a tremendous height before crashing down with a flying cross body.
“The height! The young lions are putting it all on the line for the entertainment of this crowd, and it’s awesome. We just might be looking at the next champion, don’t you think?”
“They ain’t got manes yet. I’ll wait and see what else they have in store for us.”
The landing was rough, and both wrestlers were definitely going to be bruised for the next week. As the two laid doing in a heap, Owen whispered to Kidd Neon. “Let’s go into the kicks next. Make sure to sell the dives, though.” Neither of the competitors were amazing at selling, but they were both smart enough to know that no-selling big outside dives like that was plain stupid.
Owen picked his opponent up, and rolled him into the ring, going for a quick cover. The referee got down and began counting. One, two, and a quick shoulder up. As Owen was standing up, Neon rolled forward and threw out his legs, connecting against Owen’s head with the sole of his foot. Owen retaliated with a roundhouse kick, which Neon ducked under, but followed up with another kick with his other foot, all in one fluid motion. Neon shook his head and put one hand on his jaw after that impact, then frowned and ducked low for a sweeping kick that fell short, but he kept moving. Now he bounced up off the mat and turned onto his side, standing on one hand and hammering Owen straight in the temple with the tip of his foot. Owen tumbled to the side, but bounced off of the ropes behind him and jumped up, nailing Neon in the chin with a simple dropkick. As Neon was still reeling from the kick, Owen placed his hands beside his head and kicked up from his back, flipping onto his feet, then quickly placed one foot on Neon’s hip, and swung the other towards Neon on the other side of his body, connecting with a solid enziguri.
“Kick after kick after kick. I didn’t even know there were so many different ways to kick… learn something new every damn day.”
“Like a BRUCE LEE MOVIE, WADE! Shi---”
“Chill man, chill.”
Kidd Neon tumbled down landing flat on his side, shaking and writhing to sell the impact as he laid on the ground next to the turnbuckle. Owen saw an opportunity and started to pick up speed, holding his arm out like he was ready for an elbow drop. Neon jumped to his feet before Owen reached him, then lept onto the second rope and flung himself into the air. He dove over the head of Owen Sparks and wrapped one arm around his neck, then in one swinging motion brought him down to mat headfirst.
After a quick taunt consisting of doing the famous Melbourne Shuffle beside Owen as he lay collapsed on the ground, Kidd Neon helped him up only to send him into the ropes with an irish whip. Neon started running the ropes himself, sliding under Owen’s legs as the first passed each other, then leaping into the air and wrapping his legs around his head as the crossed paths again on the return trip. Both wrestlers spun around as the grip of Neon’s legs held tight around Owen’s neck, then Neon reached his arms over and wrapped up one Owen’s arms as he released his main grip. Again Owen’s face smacked the canvas as they hit the ground, and Kidd Neon wrenched the arm back as he returned to his feet.
Still gripping the arm, Neon stepped over it with one leg and wrapped it around the other leg as he spun around. He dived over Owen, grabbed hold of his shoulder in the middle of the roll, before landing and pinning him to the mat. With a leg entangling one of Owen’s arms and his arms cradling the other side, Neon had solid leverage for the pinfall. The referee knelt down to count the pin, shouting one, two then a sloppy kick out from Owen. The referee had to pull his arm away at the last minute as he almost counted the three.
Both wrestlers backed away to opposite corners, taking a moment to rest, prepare for the finish to the match, and allow the crowd to start up a chant.
“Look at that offense, just unbelievable the way he can maneuver like that. So impressive, are these young wrestlers, full of heart and energy and ready to prove to the world that they’re the best around.”
“Let’s go Owen!
Owen sucks!
Let’s go Owen!
Owen sucks!”
“Let’s go Owen…. Owen sucks.”
Owen smiled at the sound of the chants, and laughed when Neon acted offended.
“Wait, he probably is offended. Oops.” Owen then gave a tiny, inconspicuous nod to Neon, and Neon nodded back, signifying the two were both ready. With that, Owen ran towards Neon, jumping and attempting to clothesline him into the corner. However, Neon ducked and rolled out of the way, making Owen faceplant into the top turnbuckle. Owen turned around so he was facing away from the corner, and Neon repeated Owen’s action, landing with the clothesline. Neon then grabbed Owen by the shoulders, who lifted a knee into Neon’s stomach. Owen then grabbed Neon and spun him around so he was in the corner. Next, he aided Neon in climbing up so he was sitting on the top turnbuckle. Owen took a few steps back before charging forward and stepping up with his left foot on the middle turnbuckle, then jumping up and kicking Neon in the temple with one more enziguri. Owen landed flat on his back but quickly stood back up, catching Neon sideways as he wobbled around and fell of the turnbuckle.
From this, Owen walked to the centre of the ring, directly facing the hard camera. Some of the members of the crowd stood up and cheered, knowing this was the beginning of the end. Owen spun Kidd Neon clockwise, letting go of him with his left hand and dropping to one knee, allowing Neon’s back to fall onto that knee for a picture perfect Swinging Backbreaker. If there was one thing these two were good at, it was selling each other’s finishers. As Neon writhed in pain on the mat, Owen stood in front of and looking away from him, then quickly jumped backwards into a Standing Corkscrew Moonsault, then remained on top of Neon to the referee’s count of three.
“Sparks got HOPS!”
Right as the referee slapped the mat for the last part of the count, Neon burst up with one shoulder, just too late to avoid losing. He didn’t clear it with Owen first, but the result was the same, Owen had won.
“And just like that, Owen has advanced in the tournament! Can he make it all the way? Stay tuned to find out.”
Owen slowly rose up to his feet, then allowed the referee to raise his factor at the victor. Before his theme started up once more, Owen grabbed a microphone from one of the guys standing on the outside of the ring. “And that, ladies and gentlemen, is proof. I don’t care who’s next, because I am on my way to the top!” Neon made a show of making an angry face and staring down Owen, but ultimately said nothing before walking off. | Zachary Wake
"Anyone who is too nice cannot be trusted. I'll leave them writhing in my wake!"
6'3" - 264lbs | 10 Years of Experience
|Birth Name|
» Zachary Hanson
|Hails From|
» Melbourne, Australia
» April 25, 1988 (29)
|Fighting Style|
» Zachary is rather simple in fighting, as his character focuses more on his natural charisma and way with words. Think Bobby Roode. He uses all the easily identifiable moves, sans high-flying and acrobatic styles. He likes to trash talk while in submissions/rest holds, and enjoys playing with the crowd's emotions, sometimes letting the face seem like they're going to get off a big move and then striking with a low blow when the ref isn't looking. He doesn't mind playing dirty, as it is just a means to an end, the end being the AWE Championship.
|Signature Moves|
» Eye Gouge
» Rope Hung Forearms but with his opponent one the other side of the barricade so the crowd can watch up-close.
» Liontamer
» Stalled Suplex
|Finisher|
» Sitout Electric Chair Facebuster
» Electric Chair off of the Top Rope (For the big matches)
|Theme|
» Is this epic enough?
|Gimmick|
» Zachary's gimmick is that he is the dirty heel that the fans love to hate. His promo work after 10 years of experience leads to him being able to play with the crowd and improv when they start chanting something. He purposely riles them up by beginning every promo acting as a face would, then insulting his rival at the time, which easily gives him some heat.
|Face or Heel|
» Natural Heel
|Backstage Rep|
» Zack is a well-respected and valuable member of the backstage crew, not just because of his in-ring work, but from the years of respect he's gained helping out the back. Each night he gets in early, leaves late and makes sure everyone does their bit in helping the show run smoothly. Whenever he's got spare time he sits down with creative to see where they think his character should be headed, and always tries to help them decide on the best choice for Wake.
As such, Zack understands and is confident in the booking decisions in relation to his character, whether it be win, lose or draw. He's fine with helping the young ones get over, since he has been there, and will do everything in his power to help them succeed. Zachary cares deeply about the business, and it shows.
|Other|
» In his time Zachary has had many shots at the big one, the AWE Championship, but has always come up short in the big matches. The closest he got to officially owning the belt was when he knocked out the referee, allowing him to strike his then-rival Drayden down with weapons. However, the decision was reversed, causing quite the stir-up and made his and Drayden's rivalry all the better.
» Zachary is a former three-time AWE Intercontinental Champion, and all three of those runs were quite meaningful, helping Zachary ascend to the upper-midcard rather quickly. The last of these runs ended around 9 months ago, but all of them lasted over 3 months. Since then, Zachary has taken a bit more of a back seat, returning to the midcard, but still making (failed) attempts at championships every now and again. When he isn't being used in storylines or championship matches, Zachary is the perfect guy for a 3-Way/4-Way #1 Contender Match (Think of Sami Zayn/Baron Corbin, in this respect).
» Zachary also had an short stint as AWE Tag Team Champion in a time when the tag division was particularly weak, teaming with a rather eccentric fellow named Senji Veryhurt, a stereotypical strong style Japanese wrestler.
» Face Claim: Ryan Botha
» ff0000
Owen Sparks
"I'm the spark of light in the darkness. The AWE title is as good as mine!"
5'9" - 178lbs | 1 Year of Experience
|Birth Name|
» Ian Owen Hamilton
|Hails From|
» Cincinnati, Ohio
» September 14th, 1998 (19)
|Fighting Style|
» Since he really has only just begun, Owen hasn't developed a broad moveset, but is leaning towards a risk-taking grappler/high flier, with little time for technical/brawling styles. Owen isn't what one would call a polished or magnificent wrestler, but he shows promise in the moves he can do well. Before entering his angle with Zachary Wake, Owen was very much a "Five Moves of Doom" type wrestler, and since the story has started, Wake has been helping Owen to expand his moves.
|Signature Moves|
» Flying Cross Body
» Step-Up Enziguri (Usually as the opponent is standing on a turnbuckle)
» Bridging German Suplex (To pin)
» Still growing, so a fourth move will come eventually.
|Finisher|
» Shocker (Monkey Flip into Crossface)
» Sparkling Brilliance (Swinging Backbreaker into Standing Backsault)
|Theme|
» Mmm, Electric Guitars
|Gimmick|
» Owen is the happy-go-lucky new babyface, both in-character and out, really. He is excited to be wrestling in any promotion, and shows great promise. He adds a new move to his arsenal every match, and is meant to portray a growing and changing wrestler-in-training. However, though he is a face, Sparks has recently become the apprentice to Zachary Wake, a heel who doesn't mind cheating to win. And it seems like Owen may soon adopt his teacher's philosophy in an attempt to stop his shaky win:loss ratio.
He's still developing his skills on the mic, but like all young wrestlers, he has some semblance of a natural charisma that is being pushed to be honed through promos either just before or after his matches.
|Face or Heel|
» Babyface
|Backstage Rep|
» Since he is relatively new to AWE Ian hasn't build himself a reputation quite yet. As such, only a few wrestlers really know Ian, and can put up with his slightly cocky attitude. He knows he isn't the best as that is just ignorant, but knows that he was picked up by AWE after only 1 year in the business meaning that the scouters either overestimated his talents, or they know that he has a lot of room to grow. Ian likes to believe it's the latter.
Regardless of wrestling talent, Ian is loyal to his close buddies, and is constantly trying to improve himself - both physically and mentally - through the help of those friends. He recognizes that there is a lot to be improved about himself, but can't pinpoint those problems by himself. As such, he often finds himself being arrogant to others, and potentially racist at times if he isn't careful.
Despite these flaws, there's a reason Ian nails the happy-go-lucky gimmick: It still comes to him naturally.
|Other|
» Owen Sparks is currently participating in an angle/feud with Zachary Wake in an attempt to help get Owen over with the crowd, by having Owen have a moral conflict between doing what's right, and doing what needs to be done for him to win. Zachary is trying to persuade Owen to cheat so he can get his wins up.
» Nickname(s): The Spark of Brilliance
» Face Claim: George Blagden
» DAA520 |
49,053 | 1,324 | 26 | 2,180 | 2,019 | Segment 3
Following the brutal Gethin squash, the crowd were clamoring for another match; for more violence, but suddenly the lights went out, as did the titantron. The entire arena was in complete, sudden, unexplained darkness. As far as the crown knew, it could be a powercut. After a few very tense seconds, the titantron showed a flickering lightbulb, followed by a longer spell of silence and darkness, but now the crowd were reassured that this was deliberate.
Then, the familiar music of a music box started playing, and suddenly the whole arena started to cheer. They knew what this meant. They knew what was back. Another image started to show on the titantron, and they quickly quietened down and started to pay attention.
The video on screen was CCTV footage of a bandaged man in a hospital. It cut away to a shaky cam showing the 'Burns Ward' sign. It went dark again, but still, the unsettling music played. The titantron flared back to life, this time showing still pictures of nurses unravelling the man's bandages. In each of the pictures, the nurses faces were harshly scored out with a pencil. The last picture passes by very quickly but still slow enough to everyone to have registered it. It was the bandaged man grabbing a nurse's throat. In this one her face hadn't been scored out, and was a contorted, sickening scream of shock and pain.
The series of pictures then moved onto another CCTV video. This time it was a fisheye camera recording a padded cell. A figure in a straightjacket was sitting down, facing away from the camera. This footage must have played with no changed for a solid thirty seconds, before a roll of static went down the screen, and suddenly the figure was right in front of the camera, staring up at it. Many of the audience jumped. There were a few more cheers now, as the face that could now be seen was definitely Hector. The cheers were definitely lost in the overpowering silence of the majority of the crowd.
Suddenly, a grainy, black and white cartoon started to play. It was just cutesy 1930's style animals walking around a village and talking, but with the music, and in context of what they saw before, it was really creepy. Slowly, it would dawn on the crowd that the buildings in the background were melting. Then the sun and clouds started melting. Then, as the characters themselves started to melt, still with smiles on their faces, the music started playing backwards.
The cartoon burned away in a fire, the vivid color and realism of the flames bringing the crowd back from the cartoon. Now, on the Titantron, in his old gear and mask, was Hector, though his green and white ring gear was charred as if burned, and his mask, before a creepy, blank smiling mascot head, was now slightly melted into something even creepier than before. He appeared to be standing besides a chain-link fence, and it was night-time. He leaned into the camera, and spoke, in a menacingly jovial tone; "I can't wait to play more games with you all!"
The Titantron went off. The lights came back on, and there were some cheers of excitement, but it wasn't deafening. Many of the crowd was still shocked to silence. Everybody, however, was of the same opinion; What they had just watched was amazing. | is no monster under your bed, because I'm right here.
6”8 – 130kg| Eight Years Of Experience
|Birth Name |
»Andrew Gosforth
|Hails From |
»Paisley, Scotland
»April 7th, 1986 (31)
|Fighting Style |
» Hector is a large man, and as such has a large arsenal of power moves, but what sets him apart from other powerhouses is his in-ring psychology, mindgames and theatrics. In his gimmick’s newest incarnation, will sometimes hurt himself just to unnerve his opponent, as well as relish in the pain of his opponent instead of fighting to win quickly. A Hector match can be an uncomfortable watch, and sometimes won’t even feel PG even though it breaks no rules.
|Signature Moves |
» Daddy’s Awake (Spear/Double Leg Takedown hybrid with theatrics)
» Nightmare Drop
» Chokeslam Backbreaker
» Lifting Spinebuster
|Finisher |
» Straightjacket Neckbreaker
» Dreamcatcher
|Theme |
» Old Theme:
» New Theme:
|Backstage Rep |
»’Hector’ had enjoyed success as a big guy with the gimmick of an insane slasher villain, though this translated to cheesy effects, mind games and blackout attacks every other week. He was never a world champion though he did briefly hold the IC belt, and had an upper-card feud with Drayden during one of the rare instances when he wasn’t champion or challenging for the championship. This all came to an end over a year ago when Andrew had to go through a messy divorce, and took time off to return to Scotland and deal with that. He was written off TV by being set of fire from one of the chemicals of Dr. Sinister off the back of a feud with The creation, and then he was gone.
Several months ago, he came back for training, and to people’s surprise, it’s as if he was never gone. She’s the same old chatty, friendly big scot who enjoys a drink, and he had very little ring rust. He fell back into place in the AWE machine and is now ready to return to the ring, though his debut is still being held off until after the tournament. Personally, Andrew isn’t sure his character still fits in with an industry that’s gearing towards a more realistic, MMA style populated by small, fast guys with realistic names and characters, or maybe that just means he’s needed more than ever.
|Gimmick |
» Hector’s new gimmick is far more genuinely scary and intense than his old one. He is now a deranged psychopath, and even though there are still blackout attacks and lighting effects, Hector is framed less of a supernatural monster than he was in his previous run and far more of an ordinary albeit twisted and deranged human, and therefore all the more unsettling for it, as he seems real now. He will wear creepy masks, give nonsensical promos that make the interviewer uncomfortable, stalk his feuding opponents backstage in skits and during their promos, ect. His mindgames are a thing of beauty now. Rather than before, where every opponent would get the same thing (dolls, abandoned asylums, little girls), now each feud’s mindgames are tailored towards the fears and insecurities of his opponents and a big deal will be made of him getting inside their heads.
|Face or Heel |
» Indiscriminate Heel
|Other |
» Face Claim – Rory McCann |
49,054 | 1,324 | 27 | 92 | 2,184 | After the tantalizing interview of Gethin Rhys by Joy Ryder, the crowd was ready for some action involving "The Welsh Dragon" but before that match was to happen the eerie music of The Creation started playing through the arena. The crowd booed because they wanted to see one of the best heels in the business, but instead they'd have to see another big guy squash some local competitor. As the big guy was making his usual approach, someone with an unmistakable mask on his face trotted out behind the beast making similar motions with the major difference of the masked man carrying a bat. As the crowd started cheering Initiate lightly tapped the creation on the shoulder. Once the broodish man turned around Mathys raised the bat and 'swung' right at the mans head sending him to the floor. Under the mask Mathys was smiling nearly as big as his mask was. He pretended to inspect the guy as if making sure he was out when in reality he was just making sure he didn't hit him to hard. Once satisfied with the crowds reaction, Mathys lifted Creations arm and placed the bat under there and patted the man on the head. He stood up and instantly looked towards the ring where the LC was and cocked his head as if confused. The crowd started chanting
"LET'S GET WEIRD! LET'S GET WEIRD!"
At the end of the second 'weird' Mathys bolted towards the ring and slide right in. He hopped to his feet then pointed from the ref, to Magic Hawkins, to himself, then finally to the timekeepers area. He did this two more times until someone came to the ring and must have told the ref that this was know the match. While the ref spoke to the message man and the timekeeper Initiate waltzed over to Magic and stood in front of the man before starting to poke the man on the chest. Magic quickly smacked Initiate's hands away and Mathys stayed frozen until he heard the ref telling the two to get in their corners. Mathys slowly went to his position but as soon as the bell rang he rushed right at Magic and delivered running dropkick. Mathys quickly did a kip-up from his position and noticed Creation being helped to taken out back. Initiate walked to the ropes and hopped on the bottom one staring at his victim while bouncing up and down on the rope.
Magic took this moment to run up and flip Initiate over the ropes causing him to land on the outside of the ring. Magic then set up in a way he could run towards the opposite ropes for a boost to do a suicide dive. Initiate slowly got up looking around wildly as if confused on how he ended up outside the ring. He stood up and began turning towards the ring just as Magic was about to launch through the ropes. Quickly Initiate leaned to the side of Magic's aim grabbing Magics shoulder and body swiftly spinning to smash him down in a Snap Scoop Powerslam. Most of the crowd exploded at the unexpected move. Initiate lifted up his opponent and rolled him into the ring. He slid in right after him and picked magic up setting him up for a Final Cut. Magic shoved Initiate off hitting him with a quick elbow and then bounced off the ropes running towards Initiate. Initiate quickly lifted Magic high in the air stumbling backwards then dropping him on to the ropes in a Stun Gun. Initiate rolled on top of his downed opponent for the one, two, three.
Initiate stood up and rapidly clapped. He walked towards the ref and gave him a massive bear hug. He then proceeded to lift Magic and pushed him out the ring. He followed him out and then helped him up the ramp when before leaving he quickly gave him a noogie. He then dropped the man right there and left as if nothing even happened. From there he made his way to the wherever he could find food and a TV. Mathys really wanted to watch Gethin's match. | no need to fear. The Underdog is here!
5'11" - 231 | 3
|Birth Name |
» Alex Hill
|Hails From |
» Chapel Hill
» September 13, 1995 (21)
|Fighting Style |
» Fast paced brawler/opportunist. Also sorta a daredevil high flyer. If he is in control then he doesn't stay still long. Quick kicks and fluid moves. Doing his best not to give his opponent any breathing room. Tends to save his harder hitting moves for when he's in a pickle or doesn't have control over the flow of the match. He refuses to tap out and will either get out of it somehow or pass out before even thinking about it.
|Signature Moves |
» Spear
» Spider Suplex(Without the chair)
» Sasuke Special
» Shining Wizard
|Finisher |
» Butterfly Suplex(Without the face stomp)
» Razor's Edge
|Theme |
» Unstoppable - The Score
|Gimmick |
» He is an underdog and opportunist. He prefers to be in multi-man matches or team ups which is where he thrives. He will help anyone who asks him. He tells the fans that he was just like them. A fan who wanted to be more. He will often say that if they try hard enough they can to. He stands up for the weak and aims for the top dogs. He has a chant that he often uses, "There's no need to fear. The Underdog is here."
His attire is very simplistic. He wears long shorts that go a little past his knees. The outer portion is white while the inside thigh portion is black. He wears basic kneepads and has his left ankle wraapped up tight due to a past small injury. He wears sneakers as well. On his upper body he wears a long sleeve shirt that has the body part black and the arms white. He wears gloves on his hands and no elbow pads. During his entrance he wears a black jacket.
He heavily appeals to the crowd. During his entrance he takes a lot of time running near them high fiving any that hold their hands out. Sometimes whenever he is on a roll in the match he'll pause to look at the crowd and try to hype them up. In matches he tries to play up the Underdog gimmick a lot often telling his opponents to make it look like he doesn't stand a chance and he also plays up that he won't stay down.
|Face or Heel |
» Face. He has been running the Underdog gimmick almost since his career started and his older fans are starting to get sick of it. Some people want Alex to change it up and he is contemplating it.
|Backstage Rep |
» Unlike the Razorblade persona, Alex is kinda reclusive. Unless playing his character he is kinda quiet, but he can switch easily because before going to the indies he was invested in theater. Alex very readily will listen to advice from those who are better than him unless said person is snobbish or a jerk. He'll also help people with things if they ask for it, but he doesn't usually go out of his way unless requested. Both Alex and his character though are willing to put their body on the line to give a show to the crowd doing stunts that hype up whatever is going on.
With a background in theater, Alex, and as a result Razorblade, is much better at mic work than in-ring. He is a mouthpiece that if cultivated and taught the do's and don'ts could be one of best mic artist of AWE. As of right now though he still makes some mistakes that hold him back. His in-ring work usually depends on whoever he is up against. If he is facing a jobber he'll probably put out jobber work, but if he's against a high level competitor he can do better. If only he could do that good against the jobbers he'd be able to stay up in the rankings.
|Other |
» Alex's journey to AWE started in his hometown near Chapel Hill. He grew up in an area with a lot of other kids who loved wrestling. They all would often gather together and have their own 'promotions' before gathering near a TV to watch the pros. Alex was one of the better kids in the area.
As all the kids grew older they all realized only a few of them were good enough to potentially live out all of their dreams. Eight kids in number gave up their individual dreams to help support the three best of their group, Alex being one of them. For the next two years they helped the three train and then one day, when Alex was 18, they set up a dark match with a distant promotion. A 3-on-3 tag team match. The new blood lost horribly, but surprisingly the manager of the company signed two of the kids to join the CWA, Carolina Wrestling Association. For the next few months the two new guys were a dominant tag team and the more veteran teams didn't like them. They kept hassling the two inside the ring and out. It all culminated in a match between Alex and his partner against three members from various teams. Alex and his partner were doing well in the unscripted match until Alex's 'friend' hit him in the back of the head with a chair. Apparently the guy couldn't take the harassment and abandoned Alex and left the show for good.
After the horrible loss Alex started his Underdog Gimmick. Fans started eating it up. One guy betrayed vs the world. CWA's records were going through the roof. Then the company fell flat due to constant lawsuits from past competitors because of constant injuries. Alex started roaming from place to place in various indie scenes. The little reputation he had built in CWA was dwindling until a talent scout from AWE saw Alex perform and had him put in a development place for AWE. Alex trained harder than he ever had and when he was finally ready Alex, under the name Razorblade, took his first chance in the spotlight and crushed it. He signed a long term contract and the rest is yet to come.
» Alex Pettyfer |
49,055 | 1,324 | 28 | 2,180 | 2,019 | Collab with:
Dawn approached the door to Roddy’s office, but hesitated. The last time she tried to suggest her own ideas to management was a long time ago, and it took months to clear the backstage heat. Dawn was well-meaning, but when she thought she had a good idea, she became very stubborn. To this day, she believed that her being in a Royal Rumble would be a great idea. But this meeting wasn’t going to be about that. She knocked on the door.
The door wasn’t held closed for very long, Roderick never had much of an issue letting people into his office. In fact, he respected people who had the testicular fortitude to come and talk to him whenever they had a problem with the way things were going. Nowadays, most everything went through Kevin and his writing team, but Roddy still carried a lot of weight.
The door swung open and there he stood, smiling at Dawn. “Yes? Come in.” He said, moving out of the way and gesturing for her to walk into the office. “What’s on your mind?”
Dawn entered Roddy’s office a little sheepishly. It was telling of the true magnitude of Roddy’s aura of power that a woman who’s more muscular than not just most men, but a good deal of male indie wrestlers, served time in the army, and had taken a life, was still nervous in his presence. “Hello, Roddy. I just had an idea I wanted to run by you. If there are no matches planned for me at Requiem, in Wembley, I’d like to open the show. I wouldn’t mind if it was off-camera. Just...being in such a venue, in my home country...it’s important to me.”
The boss had to think a moment, drawing on his memory of whatever writers had planned — it was weird to him that they planned that far ahead. Crazy, even. When Roddy had been in charge of the writing team and creative direction, they just planned the big shows about a month in advance — maybe. “I don’t think we have anything planned for you… that’d be fine.” Roderick shrugged his shoulders. He didn’t personally see anything wrong with giving her some time on camera to talk up her home crowd. “We can give you ten minutes at the start of the show.” An eternity, in wrestling time.
Dawn’s head was spinning. Not only was that easier than she thought, but ten whole minutes! She really had to get her promo game a lot better by then! She’d have a chance to practice what she’d learned so far interfering in Morgana’s promo later. This was the first feud where she’d really been given a story besides ‘Sydney is strong. Opponent outsmarts or outwrestles her. Sydney probably wins anyway’ and she wasn’t going to let this opportunity to show that she could be a major player in the women’s division go to waste.
“Thank you, Roddy!” she replied, trying to hide her excitement and joy and stay professional.
The excitement may have been short lived, as Kevin Harrison, lead writer for AWE and really second only to Roddy himself in creative control, burst onto the scene. He paused for a moment when he saw Dawn standing there, letting out a breath. “Hey, Dawn, what’s up? Uh, boss man, you seen Caiden around anywhere? The one time we’re looking for him, he just disappears…” Kevin looked hopefully over at Roddy, but Roddy ignored the question and instead spoke thusly:
“In October, at Requiem, we’re giving Sydney here ten minutes to open the show —”
With balls of steel the writer cut Roderick off. “Now, whoa whoa whoa. That’s fine and all, but hey. What are you gonna do with ten minutes?” He asked, and his voice was undeniably demanding. Hey, they were messing with his baby, and he had to be sure that everything planned fit in.
Dawn rubbed the back of her head and turned to Kevin. She unconsciously made this gensure because she was nervous and feeling a little apologetic, but in her tank top, her flexing muscles were very visible. She look far more intimidating than she felt, which may have been a factor in people agreeing with her.
“Sorry, Kevin. We could sit down and come up with ideas of how to fill ten minutes. I’m new to long promos, so I’ll probably need your help. And...if it interferes with your timeslots, we could just put it before the actual show. Maybe keep it off the Pay-Per-View and release it online or something. I don’t know much about these things.”
“Alright, well… we’ll come up with something. It’s not a big deal. I just don’t like being blindsided like that…” Kevin ran a hand through his hair and shook his head, before smiling warmly at Dawn. “It’s all good, we’ll work something out, alright? I’ll try to fit you in a match on the card too, gotta have the hometown heroes there.”
”We’ve got a month and a half to sort everything out between everyone. Anyway, I have a confrontational segment to get ready for, and then Aftershock, and I need to go and take care of the butterflies in my stomach. Thank you both for this! I will pay you back tenfold!” And with that, she left the office.
On her way to the the dressing room to be made up, or rather made down, she passed a mirror, which she stopped at, and stared at menacingly. She could stare well, She’d had plenty of practice, as most of her ‘promo work’ in the company thus far had been staring. She cleared her throat, looking nervous again for a few seconds, before resuming her tough exterior, and thinking back to boot camp.
”What’s your name, soldier? Dawn Webster, huh? You don’t look very young. How old are you? Sixteen? So, you’re a dropout? Didn’t think you had a future without the army? Do you think you have a future in the army? Because you have to work for that! Can you work, Dawn? Because from what you’ve told me so far, I don’t think you can! How fit are you? Do you run? Cycle? Swim? No? Did you think this was going to be a walk in the park? DID YOU THINK THIS WAS GOING TO BE SUMMER CAMP? Get down give me twenty!”
She stopped, and shivered at the memories. She’d given herself goosebumps. Until she found her own voice and style, and developed her own skills, she should just channel her drill sergeant. That was actually a powerful speech worthy of a Women’s Champion. Pity it wasn’t about wrestling.
Dawn, face red from exertion, looked around. Several of the staff here staring at her. She blushed and quickly walked past them. ”Just...getting into the zone…” she muttered sheepishly. | is no monster under your bed, because I'm right here.
6”8 – 130kg| Eight Years Of Experience
|Birth Name |
»Andrew Gosforth
|Hails From |
»Paisley, Scotland
»April 7th, 1986 (31)
|Fighting Style |
» Hector is a large man, and as such has a large arsenal of power moves, but what sets him apart from other powerhouses is his in-ring psychology, mindgames and theatrics. In his gimmick’s newest incarnation, will sometimes hurt himself just to unnerve his opponent, as well as relish in the pain of his opponent instead of fighting to win quickly. A Hector match can be an uncomfortable watch, and sometimes won’t even feel PG even though it breaks no rules.
|Signature Moves |
» Daddy’s Awake (Spear/Double Leg Takedown hybrid with theatrics)
» Nightmare Drop
» Chokeslam Backbreaker
» Lifting Spinebuster
|Finisher |
» Straightjacket Neckbreaker
» Dreamcatcher
|Theme |
» Old Theme:
» New Theme:
|Backstage Rep |
»’Hector’ had enjoyed success as a big guy with the gimmick of an insane slasher villain, though this translated to cheesy effects, mind games and blackout attacks every other week. He was never a world champion though he did briefly hold the IC belt, and had an upper-card feud with Drayden during one of the rare instances when he wasn’t champion or challenging for the championship. This all came to an end over a year ago when Andrew had to go through a messy divorce, and took time off to return to Scotland and deal with that. He was written off TV by being set of fire from one of the chemicals of Dr. Sinister off the back of a feud with The creation, and then he was gone.
Several months ago, he came back for training, and to people’s surprise, it’s as if he was never gone. She’s the same old chatty, friendly big scot who enjoys a drink, and he had very little ring rust. He fell back into place in the AWE machine and is now ready to return to the ring, though his debut is still being held off until after the tournament. Personally, Andrew isn’t sure his character still fits in with an industry that’s gearing towards a more realistic, MMA style populated by small, fast guys with realistic names and characters, or maybe that just means he’s needed more than ever.
|Gimmick |
» Hector’s new gimmick is far more genuinely scary and intense than his old one. He is now a deranged psychopath, and even though there are still blackout attacks and lighting effects, Hector is framed less of a supernatural monster than he was in his previous run and far more of an ordinary albeit twisted and deranged human, and therefore all the more unsettling for it, as he seems real now. He will wear creepy masks, give nonsensical promos that make the interviewer uncomfortable, stalk his feuding opponents backstage in skits and during their promos, ect. His mindgames are a thing of beauty now. Rather than before, where every opponent would get the same thing (dolls, abandoned asylums, little girls), now each feud’s mindgames are tailored towards the fears and insecurities of his opponents and a big deal will be made of him getting inside their heads.
|Face or Heel |
» Indiscriminate Heel
|Other |
» Face Claim – Rory McCann |
49,056 | 1,324 | 29 | 1,435 | 3,654 | Collab with
Oscar O’Sullivan’s match had come to a close. It was short but the audience let their inner animals come out, having gone completely wild from the hype, consumed by the pure elation, ecstasy, and entertainment that is the AWE. Joy Ryder stood beside one of the more… vicious animals in the building. Not necessarily a monster because there was strategy and tactics behind the brutality. A monster got lost in their blood rage and most, if not all, didn’t understand what they were doing that made others shake and quake with the very sight of them. There was purpose in this wrestler, always purpose, which honestly made this man far more intimidating than his colleagues because he knew what he was doing. From the root of his impulses to the expressions on his face, he knew what he was doing.
Gethin Rhys.
Although he was beyond charming, with a smile that could make anyone that was sexually attracted to him swoon, she knew better. Joy knew what he was capable of doing and how merciless he could and would be out on the ring. Some say a brutal artist, which he preferred, she related him more to a compulsive predator, constantly calculating his next move, while keeping that blinding smile on. “Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome my guest at this time.” Pausing for a brief moment, she gazed up at the handsome man with her cute dimpled smile, but there was a slight edge in her expression, as if she were personally uncomfortable because she, along with the audience, feared this man. Was it fear, though? Or did she simply not trust the heel that stood before her? “Gethin Rhys!”
And with his introduction done, she could get straight into the promo. “Gethin, so what are your thoughts with how the AWE World title tournament came to be?" She paused for a second and then added, “With Drayden’s injury and all.”
Gethin looked down at the small yet striking young woman and consciously decided to only lower his charming grin slightly instead of getting rid of it completely. “First, allow me to congratulate you Miss Ryder, you are looking as beautiful as always.” The human torture device brushed a gentle finger across Joy’s marble skin before speaking again. He had not asked her permission to do that but he knew Joy or at least he hoped he did. She loved getting lost in the moment and making his character seem even more horrible was something she would jump at the chance to exploit. For his benefit, of course. As a result, Joy visibly cringed but kept the act up. He touched her. Gritting her teeth behind her closed smile, she nodded to him as her ‘thank you’, but knew he had more to say.
“Secondly, well, I consider Drayden’s injury to be very unfortunate, I mean, after all I wanted to be the one to take him out myself. Not to worry though, when he comes back… I hope he enjoys the adulation from the sycophants, virgins and morons we call our fans. It won’t last. You see, Drayden will get his rematch for the championship and sadly for him, it’ll be against me. And when his blood has dyed that grey canvas red and the little kids tears in the crowd have stained the arena floor… that will be my masterpiece. That’ll be the end for him. This tournament doesn’t mean a thing. I debuted in a tourney remember? The Wally Norton Battle Classic. I won that, no problem. This thing will be the same. Bet on it.”
The handsome Welshman took the glasses from his face and placed them somewhere off camera. “Next question, darling.” Gethin cracked his famous fists and knuckles, his hands worn from the hard hitting style that had become his signature over his ten years pro. For a moment his mind wandered to his days as a young lion in Japan before the icy gaze of one Joy Ryder brought him back to the present.
Aha, darling. “As justified as your confidence is, be careful... Icarus too was confidant, until he flew too close to the sun. You don’t think there’s other competition out there for you? I’m sure Drayden may very well get his rematch, but who’s to say it’ll be against you? Well, besides you.” Joy felt like she was treading dangerous waters, showing her lack of faith in Gethin Rhys, doubting his abilities to take the title home. Biting her bottom lip, she brought the mic to his mouth and waited for his response.
Gethin’s eyes furrowed slightly. How dare she say something like that. He clenched his teeth and inhaled deeply, cracking his neck slowly and loudly for the microphone to pick it up clearly. He was holding back, that itch, that fever that tore apart his soul. The Edward Hyde inside his Henry Jekyll was clawing to the surface, clambering for air in the abyss. Gethin raised his left hand, the striker placed it softly on its side onto Joy’s shoulder, “You feel that? That’s control. Don’t dare speak out of turn again.”
Removing his hand and dropping it back into his other waiting palm, he continued on, “I never said there wasn’t any competition, my dear. Competition is what keeps me going. It’s what makes me, me. That said, there may be competition but none can beat me. Bring me Owen Sparks. Bring me Savaka. Thunderbird. Hell, bring me your brother in Japan. It doesn’t matter who I fight, they’ll lose and I’ll tell you why. I have the one thing every wrestler fears; the ultimate hold. My Owari Death Clutch cannot be broke, that is a fact Joy and I dare anybody to come and try. Test me and you will fail boys, you will fail.”
Maybe her brother will come at some point! Joy didn’t know. He didn’t keep her in the loop with his wrestling career. All she knew was what she found on the internet or the occasional skype calls of him talking about everything BUT wrestling, like the newest ramen flavor he tried, having a snapchat series called: Ramen Review. Blake Ryder was a man who liked to surprise, especially when it came to him coming home.
Gethin Rhys’ ego was bigger than his head and she prayed to god one day her brother would make this sick fighter kiss the very ring he considered his life. His home. Internally, Joy’s stomach curled with how Gethin thought he was warranted to continuously touch her, as if she was a mere object to make him look good. She knew this was all acting, but still, she was a woman who thrived off of the moments and by hell, this moment was irritating the shit out of her. “I think they’ve heard enough.” Joy’s stare turned cold, deciding Gethin didn’t need to say anymore. It was her job to help him, but overstep your boundaries and she’ll fucking walk away. Beatrice can bitch at her later. “We’ll see what you have in store for us! Oh, and--” Before exiting the frame, she glanced back at him and grimaced, “Don’t tell me what to do.”
The interviewer was the first to leave and Chance Ryder, the videographer, kept the camera on Gethin Rhys for a little bit longer, after making sure the sound guy aimed the boom to the wrestler, to pick up any last words.
Turning to face the camera directly, a sick grin crossed the strong style killers face and a dirty, sadistic chuckle cleared his throat. “A word of warning; gentlemen of AWE, I am the most dangerous professional wrestler on the planet. This we all know. Professional violence is what I do for a living. Step into the ring with me and you have two choices. Knock out or I choke you out. Whatever your preference. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go kill some idiot and then I’m going to go find myself a nice girl...or boy you know me, I’m not prejudiced. Good day.” Gethin reached down and pulled his gumshield into frame and placed it into his still grinning mouth before walking out of shot.
As soon as the camera stopped rolling, he quickly yanked the protector from his face and hurried to catch up to Joy. He was supposed to go to the Gorilla Position to get ready for his match but he couldn’t leave just yet. “Joy, are you ok? I’m sorry if I crossed any lines. I got a bit into it.” Gethin had spent years developing his character and got really into it at the best of times, especially when he knew he could get away with pushing the boundaries like he did in Japan. Here in the AWE things were a little different and he sometimes forgot that.
Turning on her heel to face her recent interviewee, Joy brought down her professional face, her expression was a lot more natural and not with a constant smile plastered on it. She chuckled, “It’s fine! I expect these things to happen on screen. And I’m sure the audience ate it up. I do need some time to cool down, but I’m not taking it personal. I guess I can be kinda vibrant with my emotions, huh?” She stuck her tongue out teasingly, to show that she was fine and a big girl. Being part of the AWE all her life, she knew exactly what could happen and took note of all the spontaneous moments, that at times could be questionable or controversial, to better herself as an on-air personality. However, she loved it. She loved this job and everything that came with it. The moments are what made the AWE great. She wouldn’t be a professional if she took it personally, would she?
“Thank god, that’s a weight off my shoulders. Right darling, I better head off. Hope you enjoy the rest of the show and aren’t too put off by my spots tonight. I’m going try out the mouth drag for the first time since back in Japan!” Placing his gumshield back into his mouth, Gethin offered the stunning interviewer a dopey smile before rushing off to go get ready for his match.
“Good luck!” were Joy’s final words and then her attention was brought to the producer walking out of her office. Oh, maybe she should talk to her to make sure that she too didn’t step out of line. Honestly, Joy knew she was fine. Both Beatrice and Wade had plenty of faith in her to help wrestlers make good promos, even if it meant Joy got an emotional rise… hey! Because of that, she’s given the writers’ inspiration for potential story arcs. Nodding to herself, she scurried to talk to her boss. | I see you!
The best things in life are dangerous, like me.
5' ¾", 106 lbs - 5'8", 135 lbs
2 years Developmental, will debut soon with her husband
3 Years at AWE, 2 years at Developmental. 5 years total.
|Birth Name |
» Alice Jane Slayer (Kennedy)
» Ariel Michelle Slayer (Flanagan)
|Hails From |
» Atlanta, GA
» April 17 (26)
» October 22 (23)
|Backstage Rep |
» You got all these sweethearts dressed as bitches, guess what? Ari is a fucking bitch on and off the ring. She does not like you. It takes her a LONG time to accept you into her world because your flaws are blaring red and she fucking hates it. Some people do not get the concept of personal space. If she's doing her own thing, don't interrupt her. She enjoys dark humor, other people's drama, and crude people. Constantly observing her surroundings, she will size you up before you approach her. Ruthless. Entitled. & Impatient. She was never fond of dealing with people, which is honestly her biggest weakness on the ring. Charisma, that is. It isn't something that comes naturally to her like it does for her little sister.
As flawed as Ari is, those she does let in, like her husband, Michael Flanagan, know that she does mean well, but due to personal experiences, her built mechanism of verbally lashing out at people to protect her own, has gotten to a point where she can't really break it down over night. Ari is a tough cookie and audaciously bold. A risk taker, through and through. A primadonna is an understatement of her personality and Ari refuses to be considered less than. She aims to be in the big leagues, even if it means she might break a few bones...
You see, she and Michael were already dating prior to their debut at AWE, which was near the same time. It wasn't hard for him to gain attraction because even if he leans more on the timid side when he's out of character, he's a phenomenal heel and it shined through since day 1. Ari, however, spent her first two years figuring out her image. She was simply a blank canvas, a doll of a woman, and a temperamental wrestler, who fought well enough to get her to the mid card but required A LOT of polishing, as she tried her downright best to 'find herself' in the ring.
A year ago, Michael and her got married, and for a year, the writers have been pushing her more toward his storyline to enhance his biker boy look and guess what? It's working. People are starting to see the character behind the bitch. While Ajax is the tail gunner of his motorcycle gang, Fallen Angels, she is his queen. The Bonnie to his Clyde, who knows her way around her gun, or in this case the ring, and isn't afraid to use that to her advantage. She's a tough-talking, quick-shooting criminal and is growing to be a machine gun-blazing woman who you better not underestimate. Whenever she's threatened, she doesn't even flinch, she jumps right in and marks her territory. Fearless and it's all thanks to the writers pushing her more in the direction of the rebel girl archetype because it's something Ariel can actually relate to.
Fun fact: She isn't fond of motorcycles, but for love, she'll get on one.
» Amore hasn't debuted yet, but her face is known backstage because of her sister. The young, energetic valet aspires to be as influential as Jezebel (FC: Jessa Hinton), who was the Faceless' on-screen eye candy and eventual wife. Jezebel may have made the Faceless seem more humane, but Amore? She wants to do more than be an accessory for her love. Revolutionize the role of valets all over! At the root of it all, Alice is a business woman, who doesn't just want to 'accompany' her husband when she's on the ring with him. She wants to get heavily involved in the action inside, outside, within the audience-- ANYWHERE. A dreamer, the doll aims to earn the loudest pops of the night. Her beloved Benjamin tells her she has a niche and that is her charisma. Her stage presence. When Amore is in the spotlight, there is no doubt people will be starstruck.
Sneaky, cunning, and without hesitation, Amore will do absolutely anything for Mordecai to heighten his chances of winning. It helps that she has one sexy act that no one can top. Rated R, sexy-goodness. She acts like a child, but moves her body like a woman. Her influence is undeniable and even if wrestling isn't her top skill (it's singing and acting), she will go down in history!
As for backstage? A lovable, naive, playful and misleading young adult. Careless and foolish. Accidental prone when she isn't performing. Alice doesn't want to grow up, so she'll act far younger than she is. Oh, and she's scary possessive over her husband.
|Other |
» FCs: Kerli Kõiv & Jana
» 721728 & 324C83
|Fighting Style |
» Ari keeps you on your toes, you never know what to expect and has a passion for power. Known for her agility, high stunts, and her attitude, Ari, from the get go, set her sight on cleaning up the Divas division, showing that girls were more than accessories and tools. Even her sister, who does strut her body like it's nobody's business, isn't just that. A body. Amore is a character, whose insanity and giggles will be what the people remember. Psychotic little girl trapped in a woman's form.
Meanwhile, Ari has commitment to excellence and wants to be recognized as a professional wrestler, with Ajax by her side. Her goal: to be one of the most vicious Divas of her era. She doesn't even have to be one of the stars, she just wants to be scary. Although she isn't there yet, she will continue to work her ass off. Her current success is all thanks to her athleticism, hotheaded personality, impressive arsenal of offensive maneuvers, and her husband's biker persona.
Ari has countless ways of finishing her opponents and she will not give into status quo. A true queen of the rebels.
|Signature Moves |
» Highside (Diving Hurricanrana)
» Ari Bomb (Lita Bomb)
» Eating Asphalt (Swanton Bomb)
» Helmet Head (Hardiac Arrest)
|Finisher |
» Boneyard Moonsault (Moonsault)
» New Prime (Widow's Peak)
|Theme |
» Whatever she had before, doesn't matter. Now she has Superhuman to match Ajax.
|Gimmick |
» As said earlier in backstage rep, Ari is Ax's Bonnie to his Clyde. His ride or die. They have a fiery dynamic and shower each other with attention. They are motivated by chasing the danger, excitement, and action of wrestling. He's the gun, she's the trigger. If Ari isn't happy, Ajax is pissed. He might be the King of the Hill but without his queen, the high of living it dangerous 24/7 isn't as addicting. They're into each other in a visceral and physical way. There is a sense of co-dependency and downright bat-shit insanity between these two. Ariel even went out of her way to get 'His' tattoo on her lower back, to match Michael's "Hers" tattoo on his arm, to add to their act (when he wraps his arm around her, the audience would know - she belongs to him). A psychotic and possessive love story where their need for one another is absolutely dangerous for anyone, including each other.
Soon enough, the audience will learn crazy runs in the Slayer family because when Amore makes her debut, they'll see that the blonde is light years ahead in the insanity department.
As for fashion sense? Ari is a daredevil biker chick. Leather jacket with the Fallen Angels symbol, bustiers to showcase her stomach and her back (especially when her coat is off), leather boots, denim, the color scheme black and white, bandannas, anything really that makes her look like a total badass.
|Face or Heel |
» Heel
|Job at AWE |
» Amore will be a valet for Mordecai, who is her husband off screen.
|Skills |
» Persistent and high physical stamina
Charming and full of energy, Alice is an energetic doer, cheerful and extremely spontaneous. A true woman of action. Even if she doesn't seem it, she has strong observational skills and a keen sense to other people's feelings. Quite the problem solver, regardless of her outlandish methods. This spirited blonde would like to think she's an excellent diplomat and negotiator, especially when it comes to her pitching ideas. By nature, she's too open and direct to deliberately manipulate someone (lies and manipulation is foreign to her, unless it's for an act), but she will fight her cause until there isn't any fight left in her.
» Improviser
Perceptive, witty, and clever. Rarely missing anything that is important, because she approaches everything with curiosity and interest, Alice will take impossible situations and make 'em great. Her memory for details and facts are impressive. She absorbs everything that interests her like a sponge, storing it in her noggin for later use.
» Dancing, acting, and gymnastic experience.
Pretty point blank, Alice kept her family busy by getting them to sign her up to as much as possible so she can get better at... life. Also, with such a busy schedule when she was younger, she didn't need to be home, which was a far more pleasant option than dealing with the turmoil. Her home life drew her insane. Convincing her parents to get her involved in the community was the easy part, making them part of it, her life, though? Not so much.
» Odd & blessed with boundless creativity
Alice has always been a little weirdo. Too much individuality for one girl. And yet, she doesn't know how to be any different. Sure, some of her creative ideas are concerning and creepy, but why should she limit herself? If her mind wants to run rampant, it should! Being different isn't a bad thing and Alice will never change for anyone.
|Looks & Style |
» Inspired by her aunt, who led a broken family with dignity and grace, Amore strives to be a visual masterpiece. Her aunt was a woman who carried whatever she wore like a queen. A queen who had an undeniable ability to live a life of pure kindness. Alice's goal, no matter where she is, or if she's being Amore or not, is to make her image timeless. Definitive and iconic, to where it is her trademark. Her look. A look that pushes boundaries and continues to evolve. Alice wants to be a trend setter, a walking fashion statement, and when people look at their television screen or see her on the ring, she wants them to recognize her immediately and maybe, just maybe, follow her as an example. If she can aspire others to walk with an air of confidence, loving who they were, while also not being afraid to explore out of the box, then her life would be more than fulfilled.
What more could you ask for? She's happily married, she has endless projects that make her smile, she's about to start the career of her life that will hopefully set her on a remarkable path of happiness and success, and if she's able to move someone or an entire audience in ways not many people can, then she can say she is more than satisfied with the life she's been given.
Hardships aside. Alice is a happy girl.
|Personality Traits |
» Visionary → Imaginative → Fun-Loving → Gregarious → Persistent → Dutiful (even if she is unbeknownst to the fact that she's a tease) → Exuberant → Trusting → Picky → Dependent → Reckless → Fearful (primarily of her husband leaving her)
|Favorite wrestler |
» She's biased. Her husband, even if he hasn't made his mark yet. Alice will make it known that he's HER favorite. |
49,057 | 1,324 | 30 | 2,573 | 1,662 | Collab with
Having arrived in the hotel room just over an hour ago, Caiden had showered and dressed down already. There’d been a live show earlier that evening, but that was over now. A string of live shows had landed them in LA for the next Shock N AWE, taking place at the Staples Center. Caiden had been working with Zachary Wake during this circuit, and he was enjoying it, but he didn’t really have any idea where he was going next — didn’t know if he even had a match booked at the upcoming big show.
His entire tenure year had felt pretty damn directionless, and he as a person was sick of it. He’d even gone so far as to once go on a tirade about how the AWE were wasting his talent on Twitter, gotten bitched at over it, and decided to never Tweet again, and he hadn’t opened the stupid social site in almost five months now. At Judgment Day, when they’d wanted him to lose to Drayden — the injured Drayden who everyone in the company knew was injured and out, Caiden had been furious. He’d screamed at Roddy, he’d screamed at all the writers, but he’d ultimately been professional and gone out and done the job. Now that he’d been fed to Drayden, he was just like every other chump out there.
So, he would probably stay directionless for the next eight months that remained on his contract, and then he’d be gone. He didn’t really much care for this company, and if they wanted to offer him another contract, he was adamant that he would not sign. No way, he’d be way better off elsewhere, where he could actually be the superstar he knew he could be, even if that meant making a bit less money. He’d take the pay cut if that’s what it needed.
The man sat down cross legged in the center of his bed, with a container of ramen he’d ordered, and adjusted his tablet so he could watch some YouTube videos before bed. Ramen was good, that was the main thing he’d learned during his tenure in Japan. That and sushi wasn’t so bad, but he was a ramen guy first and foremost. Having spent a good portion of his life in Japan, Caiden had preferences, and one of them was definitely Japanese food. That and peace and quiet, which is why he tended to ride alone and rarely roomed with anyone. He hit play on his YouTube video, and took the first bite. It’d been a long day, now to get some rest…
Unfortunately for the exhausted wrestler, there was a light knock on his door. Knock, knock. It was gentle and sounded like only two knuckles were hitting the surface (the middle finger and the pointer finger). Most likely a woman was waiting on the other side. There was a brief moment of silence, as if the person on the other side was contemplating if she should announce her presence before he opened the door (or not). Was he even going to open the door?
Yes, he was going to open the door.
It wasn’t Caiden’s style to just ignore the door, if someone was knocking they probably wanted something important. Generally speaking, plus who would even know where his room was? Sliding his legs off of the bed, Caiden closed the gap between himself and the door, before reaching out and opening it wide. When he saw who was standing on the other side, Caiden almost audibly groaned.
“What do you want, Joy?”
With her hair in a messy bun and her body adorned with a white tank, black sweats, and fuzzy blue socks, Joy stared at the man with pure exhaustion in her eyes, like she had just come from fucking war. This wasn’t her first option, to disturb her favorite wrestler because she was pathetically weak, but the people she would have gone to, LITERALLY ALL OF THEM, were MIA. If she wasn’t restless, she wouldn’t need to bake at this hour. And yet, she could not sleep for the life of her, so she was GOING to bake like her mama would do with her. A remedy for her mind and also something that would result in a delicious reward. “Hi. I’m sorry for disturbing you…”
Caiden let out a huge breath when the girl responsible for breaking his pleasant night spoke to him. Yeah, she’d better be sorry for disturbing him… this was the only alone time he really got, and if he wanted to spend it eating ramen and watching YouTube. She’d better have a good reason.
Her voice trailed off when she noticed what he was wearing (white t-shirt and boxers). Her cheeks turned a faint pink, as she immediately brought her eyes back to his face. “Usually… Wade helps me with this, but I think he went galavanting with my sister. Somewhere. Or they’re ‘busy’ and didn’t want to answer their door… eh-hem. Anyways.”
“Gross.”
She lifted up her hands, one was holding a can of pineapples and the other one was holding a can opener. “This is one battle I can never win.”
Oh, COME ON. That wasn’t a real reason to bother someone! Buy an electric can opener, dammit. He reached his hand out and snatched the pineapple can out of her hands, and the can opener. “Are you kidding me? You want me to open this?” He positioned the can opener on the can, and then with a single, effortless twist, the lid popped open, and he handed it over to Joy. “Anything else, my queen?” If words could bite, Joy would be feeling the numbing teeth of sarcasm sinking into her arm.
Joy felt small, smaller than her sister and that was small! She had more cans that needed to be opened, since she wanted to make enough for her, the people she cared about (Trinity, for one, had a huge appetite), and some of the other wrestlers (any extra would be brought to the match tomorrow), but maybe she could save baking for later and pull an all nighter. It wouldn’t be the first time she did that. Looking downward at her socks apologetically, she decided to lie through her teeth, “Yes… I mean, no. No, I’m good.” She looked up with a sad expression on and apologized again, “I’m really sorry.” Reaching to grab the can and the can opener away from him, she was getting ready to dismiss herself to be alone in her room. Maybe she’ll look to see if any of her brother’s matches in Japan have been posted online.
My god, she was like a broken puppy. Geezus, he was bad with women or something; man, Blake would throw a fit if he just let his baby sister walk off like that. Caiden just couldn’t catch a break, could he? He’d never be able to eat ramen and watch YouTube in peace, because everyone was always wanting him to do stuff… With a defeated tone, Caiden asked: “Are you sure you don’t have more cans to open?” He asked, looking down at the smol girl in front of him.
If there was one thing a Ryder child had in common, it was being puppy-dog like. Joy more so than the rest of her siblings because of her empathy. If she wasn’t already down, her mood would have taken a 180 and she would’ve responded completely enthusiastic to his question, but now she knew she was bothering him and now that she put actual thought in her impulses, she realized this situation was rather… silly. Her disturbing a man late at night just so he can open cans of pineapple for her. Silly. Pulling the items away from him, she shook her head, “It’s really okay! You can get back to your--” Pausing for a second, she glanced behind him to observe his bed situation and caught sight of his food, “Ramen. I’ll just do something else. Thanks again!” Eheh.
Caiden’s eyes narrowed. Now she didn’t want his help?! What if he’d been asleep, then she would have been RUDE. He folded his arms over his chest, which may have looked intimidating, but was really kind of silly — after all he was just in his loose fitting t-shirt, an old, almost retro piece of AWE merch, from a small PPV many years ago that Caiden had attended, and boxers. “No way, dude. You’re not seriously gonna bother someone in the dead of the night so they can open a single can of pineapples, are you? What if I was asleep? You either have underlying motives — that is to say you just want to see me, or you need more cans open. So which one is it?” Women, honestly.
This response caused Joy’s cheeks to flare up. She darted her blue eyes at him and got defensive, “I don’t have ulterior motives!” Grumpily pouting, she lifted the can and can opener up, “It’s not my fault these things are stupid. All I wanted to do was make my mom’s famous carrot cake, enough to feed an army, because it helps me sleep. But nooooooo, I spent almost forty minutes trying to open this can because it’s hard. And yes, yes I do have more cans but you’re already upset! So, I won’t bake.” Joy didn’t realize how silly this situation was and how it continued to be… silly. She just wanted carrot cake.
“...pineapples… in carrot cake? That sounds wrong and awful. You should make mandarin orange cake, with vanilla pudding frosting. That’s my favorite. My grandma used to make it, but she never gave the recipe to anyone before she died… so I haven’t had it in almost ten years now… If you don’t want to bake, you can hang out with me for a bit, I’m just eating dinner and watching YouTube.” Caiden said, shrugging his shoulders. He felt bad now, and he didn’t really like that feeling… So, he was going to his best to be nice to her and make her happy. “If you want, I don’t care.”
He was letting her in? To bake or spend time in Caiden Winter’s room. To bake or spend time in Caiden Winter’s room.... to bake or-- “...what are you watching on YouTube?” She tiptoed closer to him, having decided baking could wait and when she did get around to baking, it wouldn’t be carrot cake. “If you don’t mind me coming in, I’d love to. It beats watching YouTube alone in my room!” She wanted to comment on his grandma’s mandarin orange cake but it didn’t seem appropriate.
“Uh, just some video game stuff. I like to stay in the know, in case anything worth playing is coming out. Nothing is, so I’ll probably just watch Netflix in a few minutes.” Caiden steeled his mind, preparing to spend the night with the most talkative of the Ryders, and shut the door behind the girl once she’d stepped in. | Daniel “DC” “Don’t Call Me Danny” “Danny” “Danny Church” Church
6’ - 184 lbs | 12
|Birth Name |
» Daniel Church
|Hails From |
» Sacramento, California
» October 9th, 1985 (31)
|Job at AWE |
» He does not work at AWE. However, he is often at their events and is friends with more than a few wrestlers and backstage employees. He is a wrestling journalist and posts stories as they come and go, and reviews the shows and matches. He reacts accordingly based on how he feels the company is performing, and has no qualms calling out a wrestler or wrestlers for having a shit match, cutting a shit promo, or calling out the powers that be for making their fucking look like goddamn geeks.
|Skills |
» Smooth talking
» Tech savvy
» Dadskills
» Radio host-esque silky smooth voice
» Good at ranting
|Reason for being here |
» When he was younger, in 2001, Daniel Church had a brilliant idea in his school computers class: he’d build a fucking website. Now, the first thing you had to do when building a website, was pick something you were passionate about… at the time, Danny Church was only really passionate about one thing: PROFESSIONAL WRESTLING. Even at the young age of fifteen, DC had a brilliant mind for coding and built a website that was grand, even for the times. It gained a following, and the forums on it exploded in popularity as the tape traders and more hardcore fans finally found a place to talk and get their opinions out there.
The Smark Remark, the website is known as, and it’s only grown since its original inception in mid-2001. Danny made friends with the right people, and after high school, he passed the day-to-day management of the website over to a team of administrators and moderators. The man himself began a focus on the content creation for the website. He hosted podcasts with wrestlers from all over the world, and he began to rate matches.
Every show he saw, either live or on a tape he bought, he rated the match. Over time, his ratings and opinions got a little controversial, with people arguing about whether he was right or wrong, but he there was one thing they agreed on: he was consistent. He also wrote reports on rumors that he heard, and posted opinions and frequently participated in conversations on the message boards.
Four years after graduating, when Danny was 22, his then girlfriend, Clarissa Whitaker, gave birth to his two beautiful children. Twins, a boy and a girl. Robert and Cynthia, Bobby and Cyn. His babies and his life — other than work. They are turning ten in January of next year, and attend an online school to make it easier on Daniel to travel around for his job. They haven’t seen their mother since they were two; as it turns out, their mother was… crazy, to say the least. After Daniel discovered her drug habits and realized she was a poison in his life, he cut her out and got full custody of his children.
Since then, the single dad life has been the life for him. Working and taking care of two rascals isn’t exactly the easiest lot in life, but… he makes it work. When he was called up by Walter Durrel, who proposed combining their two mediums a few years ago, DC jumped on the opportunity. Together now, they put out podcasts reviewing AWE mostly, as that’s Walter’s preferred company. In return, Danny Church offers the Smark Remark’s website as a new home for the Wrestling Journal. They make a surprisingly good team so far.
|Looks & Style |
» Decked out from head to toe in wrestling gear, Danny doesn’t give a FUCK about how people think of him in public. He’s a hardworking single father, get bent. He’ll sometimes match or contradict his children when they go to the shows — both of his kids are huge fans too.
|Personality Traits |
» Danny is brutal and quick to be critical. He doesn’t listen to the reasons for things sucking and just accepts that they suck. If a wrestler isn’t working at their full capacity because of injuries? Whatever, stop fucking working. Utilize your roster, people.
He’s fun to talk to, and is good at telling stories and ranting and making other people who agree with him happy. He often gets into long winded debates on his podcast with Walter, but as a person Danny honestly looks forward to it every night.
Deep down, he’s just a mark, dude. He loves wrestling, everything about it from the ground up is amazing, and he can’t get enough. The fact that he built something great out of his love for wrestling amazes him to this day, and the Smark Remark is his baby. He enjoys posting on the message boards to this day, and recording the weekly podcasts is something he lovingly looks forward to every day.
It’s his second baby, the thing he loves most right behind his children.
|Favorite wrestler |
» Caiden goddamn fucking Winters, fuck you Roddy for burying the best wrestler to ever grace this goddamn planet. And Retribution. Excited for him to come, which I'M SURE HE'LL DO EVENTUALLY ONCE RODERICK QUINN PULLS HIS HEAD OUT OF HIS FUCKING ASS. Gethin's a personal favorite too, at least he gets used properly by those idiots.
And fuck you Drayden, I bet you encouraged that shit, didn’t you? Gotta GO OVER EVERYONE. Asshole. And of course, my fucking kid loves you so I have all that stupid merchandise in my fucking HOUSE.
Trinity’s cool too.
And Morgana.
What? I can’t hate the kids’s favorites, I’d be an asshole.
Except for Drayden. Fuck you. And fuck your stupid fat head wall stickers, now you’re stuck to the goddamn wall behind my FUCKING COUCH.
|Rep at AWE |
» Honestly, most people at the AWE don’t really like him. Daniel is loud, brash, and he doesn’t care about calling them out if they do something stupid. If you botch one goddamn move you better believe DC will roast the fuck out of you. You lose a match looking like a geek and hate it? Too goddamn bad, Danny Church knows full well you’re a NERD and you’ll never live it down.
But, he’s undeniably good at the job, and they actually take his ratings seriously. The few wrestlers that Danny fanboys about are quite fond of him, and he does a good podcast that wrestlers try to take advantage of. It can just be hard to deal with someone that’s going to call out every little mistake you make, even when it’s more blamed on the booking team than yourself.
He also has a tendency to post rumors about who’s going to win or lose a match, and rarely checks the validity of his source. Unlike his partner, Walter, Daniel Church is not a journalist. He’s angry millennial who thinks Roderick Quinn is ruining his goddamn favorite thing by blowing Drayden and giving him everything he asks for.
This doesn’t stop every member of the locker room from obsessively checking his reviews, though. Even Roddy does it.
|Other |
» 16a064
» Jensen Ackles. |
49,058 | 1,324 | 31 | 2,173 | 2,273 | Location: The Gym
Interacting with: Drayden & Claire
Blood. Sweat. Tears.
That is what everyone says that it takes to make it in this industry. Cliché as it is, you hear it all the time in AWE, both backstage, and on it. Many of the top tier wrestlers proved the phrase true, Barbie Summers among them. In fact, Barbara Somerville could currently check the first two off of the list today without even batting a false eyelash.
The blood was represented in the brutal abdominal cramps that she was suffering from. Periods were sometimes less mild and frequent for athletes, but this was not the case for the Doll of the American wrestling world. Drayden was gone, she didn’t have any screen time this week, and her insides were betraying her, all at once. The only thing that she wanted to do was eat chocolate cake, an entire chocolate cake. We are talking about a cake the size of the one Bruce was forced to eat in the movie Matilda. Barbara would eat it without a single complaint made, or breath taken.
This brings us to the next factor in the formula: sweat. Instead of indulging her sweet tooth and facing the consequences that came with it, Barbara was working out. Hard. A figure such as hers didn’t come easily. Her body was a well-oiled machine, and it had been for about a dozen years. Before wrestling, she was an skilled gymnast, like many other female wrestlers before her.
Nowadays, Barbara exercises for at least one hour every day. Cardio, core, strength training - she splits up her days pretty evenly, making sure that no part of her body gets out of proportion, except for her glutes. Barbara - and Barbie - takes great pride in having a far above average ass, as does William, and she plans to keep it that way. Thinking of her Billy made her frown, and she channeled that emotion into getting a few more reps of free weights in.
Wiping the moisture from her brow with her forearm, Barbara paused her routine to get a drink of water from her Camelbak bottle. Sucking down the refreshing liquid, she glanced up at the television, which was screening the happenings of the ring, in real time. A flash of cotton candy pink hair caught her eye, and Barbara paused the audiobook that she was listening to through her headphones, in order to focus on the screen. Oh, this was bound to be good.
Morgana was staged as Barbie’s biggest rival, and rightly so, as she was the previous holder of the AWE Women’s Championship Title. The Sorceress was a cutthroat character, and her hatred for the Plastic Queen was so palpable that you could practically reach into the TV screen and hold it in your hands. Honestly, it was so real that Barbara had trouble separating the character from the woman herself - it didn’t help that Mileena never talked to her backstage. She sometimes wondered if the dark beauty truly did despise her, as she appeared to on the big screen, for all the world to see.
Barbara watched with mild interest as Morgana entered the ring with the music and costume themes made famous by her wrestling legend of a father. That was to be expected, using his infamy to build up her own story. It likely wasn’t even Morgana’s idea, it was probably the writers, so Barbara didn’t judge her for it. When the witchy woman began her monologue, however, Barbara’s interest went from mild, to full attention.
Morg didn’t even waste a second before going in on Barbie. She didn’t mention her by name, but it was clear to any and all who were watching. Her words were as vicious as a viper’s venom, and she even mocked the fake accent that Barbara put on for Barbie’s character. The backwoods Louisiana lass was the furthest thing from a Valley girl in real life, but that was of no matter.
“The desire in me is far greater than any ‘doll’ that thinks they’re worthy for more than just a hand clap.”
Barbara’s lip twitched at the dig. Surely, that was just Mileena being in-character. Surely, no one in AWE was jaded enough to think that Barbie didn’t desire this. She worked her ass off for the title - blood, sweat, all of that cliché shit . A lifetime of being a fan, years of training, and the seizing of a few key opportunities. Barbara was peeved, but she continued to watch the promo in eerie silence.
“When you think of Barbie, what’s the first thing you think of? That she’s pretty in pink? Or that she too is what she calls a shadow of other people. Mm, especially the shadow of her Dray-dee-poo.”
Oh, she did not just go there. Bringing William into this, given his current injured state? That was a low blow. AND, while Drayden was, in fact, the greatest thing to happen to AWE… Barbie Summers stood in nobody’s shadow. She would never claim to be better than Dray - nor even equal to him, it was apples and oranges, really - but they were both rulers, in their own rights. Separate, unequal, and also unrivaled. Barbara kept her eyes on the screen, her vision tinted rage red.
“If she were alone, would she have built the kingdom that she wanted? Happily ever afters don’t last forever, especially to those that don’t respect the ones that help her lift her heavy crown. I don’t see a warrior. I don’t see a soul shining with royalty. I don’t see the hunger in her eyes. I see nothing.”
The spark met powder, and Barbara ignited in the gym. Short fuse? No, no fuse. There wasn’t a fuse in sight - just flames. Fire everywhere. “That BITCH!” she hissed, turning away from the TV before she could see Sydney step on screen and challenge Morgana. Blinded by her volatile emotional state, Barbie spun on her heel and took it out on the nearest punching bag.
The blonde punched and kicked, throwing her whole body into the assault against the weighted canvas sack. Barbie went at it until she was short of breath, and her unprotected knuckles felt bruised and swollen. Billy wasn’t here, he was hurting all by himself, and she couldn’t fix it. Now she was without her lover, completely alone, didn’t have any cake, and everyone hated her.
Without William there to reassure her, Barbara caved to her insecurities. All of the talk about how she didn’t deserve this, that she slept her way to the top, the talentless whore label that Barbie was written to wear so proudly. All of the heat was too much without love present to balance it out. Pressing her forehead against the canvas bag, Barbara practically hugged it, as salty streams trailed down her cheeks.
Tears: The final piece of the stupid. fucking. triad. Barbara sniffled. This was dumb, she was being dumb, crying like this. Big girls don’t cry, and actresses keep on smiling when the scene calls for it. This crown that she wore was something that she had wanted since childhood, something that she told her older brothers that she would have someday, and now she did have it, so she would wear it with poise and pride, no matter how heavy it sat atop her head.
There was only one person that could cheer her up. Only one gorgeous, chiseled face, with soulful eyes that shined for her and her alone. Barbara wiped away her tears and checked out her appearance in mirror - which was essentially the wall, as plates of mirror wrapped around the entire perimeter of the fitness center. No sign of her meltdown was evident on her face, she simply looked like she had just completed a heavy workout and, to an athlete like William, that was a sexy look. Pleased enough with her reflection, she tapped his contact to call him via FaceTime, right there in the gym, sitting on the weight bench in her sports bra and leggings.
For all intents and purposes, Drayden might as well have been dead in the water. Knee surgery as severe as his, apparently put you out of commission for longer than anticipated, and according to the medical staff, it’d be almost a month before he could even start physical therapy. Past that, eight months before he could return, and they’d said they weren’t sure he’d ever be in peak physical form again.
The doctors weren’t sure, but William Shepherd sure as fuck was. If he didn’t get back to how he was before, then he might as well end his life. So, he’d train as hard as needed for as long as possible to get back to the way he wanted to be… for now, though? Once Will answered the FaceTime call, Barbie would see her king curled up on a couch that she’d picked out for their Florida home, with a discarded Playstation 4 controller on his chest.
“Hey, babe. You look grumpy and sweaty. What’s wrong?”
“Hiii Billy, baby!” Barbara greeted him, her lips turning up at the corners. “Just… at the gym.” she said and panned the phone camera away from her, around the room, and then back to her again. “See.”
The man on the other end couldn’t help but smile when she panned the camera around the room, but he nodded when it went back to her. “Yes, I see that. I’m just on the couch. Since I can’t walk without crutches. For a month. I should probably be in the bed, but I wanted to play video games and eat food. So…” He turned the camera around to show the coffee table, which had a half eaten piece of cake, a two litre bottle of vanilla Coke, and some pizza. “Here I am.” And back to him.
Her eyes went wide at the sight of his sinful buffet. “You have cake…” she whispered and bit her lip. “You should be in bed, have someone set the video games up in the bedroom. You aren’t going to get better quickly if you break the rules.” Barbara broke out of her lustful trance long enough to give him a motherly scolding. Without anyone there keeping an eye on him, namely herself, he was probably doing a whole lot more that he shouldn’t be.
“Well, of course I have cake. I wanted cake, so I bought one. It’s really good, I was surprised.” He didn’t have much of a sweet tooth, so cake was rare for him, and usually it was of the ice cream variety. William usually preferred salty things to the sweet ones. “And I don’t like asking for help, it’s dumb enough that I have to have someone here to make me food if I don’t order it, this kind of stuff is infuriating, it kills my independence as a man.” Now, he wore the grumpy face as he squinted into the camera.
“Plus, I gotta watch Shock N AWE every week, I don’t wanna miss anything important.”
Barbie shook her head at him and rolled her eyes with a small smile. “That person is paid handsomely to do whatever the fuck you ask him to do. Moving a television and gamestation is nothing. As for your independence as a man…” She snuggled her knees up to her chest and held her face in her hand, biting her lip again. “The only way you’ll get all that back is if you follow the doctor's orders. Don’t you want get your strength back, so you can show me what a man you can be?” Barbara pouted and gave the camera her best pair of sultry eyes.
Suddenly, a well-known, delicate, silver-bell sounding voice resounded in the gym. There wasn’t even the sound of the entrance door opening because this woman in particular was light on her feet and could sneak up on anyone if she truly wanted to. By first glance, one would assume the figure that was making her way to her friend was related to the wrestler by blood. The essence of summer emitted from her, with her golden hair draping down her shoulders, curling at the ends, and a smile never fading.
Claire Gilmore.
The fiancee of Kevin Harrison, since May this year, going five years strong. They became official when she was twenty one, anniversary December 21, 2012. She was recently promoted to the head makeup artist position of the AWE Glam Squad (subscribe to their instagram channel: aweglamsquad and twitter account: @AWEGlamSquad), but also assists in the costume department, having excellent sewing skills and both a degree in Costume Design and a licensure in cosmetology, having taken an extensive program in all things makeup. It also helps that she has a strong background in theatre, being raised as the next ‘Shirley Temple’ of her hometown. Of course, her heart chose a different path. She didn’t want to be a star, she wanted to help make stars and, in time, she found an in at the AWE.
If there was one thing she deliberately goes out of her way for, it’s checking up on the wrestlers, especially the divas. Being the main hairdresser and makeup artist for the bigger names like Barbie Summers and Morgana, she tries her best to make sure their personal lives don’t mix with their careers. As a wrestler, it isn’t always easy to separate the act from the person, because at the AWE, you’re nearly always at work, and a camera could be just around the corner to catch you at your worst.
There are also the cases where some of the wrestlers aren’t the most sociable and, if she could, she would be the friend that they needed. The friend that would help them reach the height of their stardom or, at least, keep them sane. Wrestling wasn’t an easy business, and everyone needed a friend. Those that worked at the AWE were family, regardless if anyone realized that or not. You spent most of your life with these people, and it was up to you to take proactive steps to cross that line between acquaintances and friends. Claire was still working on Mileena, or well, Morgana... that girl was a toughy. Far more guarded and shy than people realized. Just because she was a good actress and knew how to be a bitch, didn’t mean she knew how to handle people well.
But, she wasn’t here for Morgana. She was here for Barbara Somerville. The current Queen of the Women’s Division. An absolute sweetheart, who dreamed big, and wanted to continuously aim high. A girl who had a lot more in common with her on stage rival than they both realized. “How’s my Barbie girl? In her Barbie world? Is life fantastic? Your ass is definitely not made out of plastic.” Claire was too focused on her silly introduction to realize she was interrupting something. The darling artist was hardly dressed appropriately for the gym.
Barbara jumped at the sudden additional voice in the room. Her eyes bugged wide at the phone camera, obviously guilty at being caught in the act of dirty talking with her man. Barbie tapped the screen and hung up on William, without any warning, and set the phone down on the bench. “Oh! Hi! Just… arm day.”
The blonde wrestler flexed her toned bicep and gave a convincing smile. “As for how I’m doing… crampy, lonely, and hungry. Not necessarily in that order. You?”
“Phenomanal!” Claire enthusiastically responded, but then shook her head in evident lover neediness. “Actually, no, tonight will be another lonely night for me at the hotel. Kevin and his boys will be too busy doing what they do best, making the AWE great and all.” She strided closer to examine Barbara’s biceps, “Tip-top shape, as always!” Pausing for a second, she glanced at the phone resting on the bench and curiously inquired, “Was that William? How’s he doing? It’s weird not seeing him around.”
A pair of dazzling blue eyes flicked down to the phone. Barbie nodded. “Yeah, that was my Billy. I needed to see his face.” Her lips puckered in a pout, comfortable enough in the presence of her good friend Claire to show her true emotions. “He’s misbehaving, but in good spirits.”
The artist watched the wrestler carefully and gave her an empathetic look, as if she understood what her friend was going through, which honestly, she did. In her own way. Kevin was married to his job first and foremost, so not seeing him as much as she would like to was something she’s dealt with ever since he was promoted to chief of the creative division. They knew each other before they were big at this company, and she cherished everything they had, but it does get lonely from time to time.
Claire trusted him with every fiber of her being, and she wouldn’t change their lives together for the world. Call her clique or whatever, but he was her prince, for better or for worse, even if they didn’t spend every waking hour together. “I wish my Sailor misbehaved! Give me a surprise spankin’ while I’m prancing down the halls.” She jokingly giggled and Barbie joined in on the girlish laughter.
“But in all seriousness, we should hang. We haven’t done that since…” Mentally counting in her head, Claire took a gander of the last time they had true girl time, “Almost two months, I think.” Bringing herself down so that she was head level with her friend, the beauty continued to sell her proposition for a slumber party, “I can get us some cake, we can watch some flicks. It would be great. Maybe even buy some fried chicken. God, I love chicken.”
“Oooo~” Barbara’s eyes shined at the mention of indulging in some delicious calories. If William could eat pizza and cake, she could let herself cheat with some fried chicken. And cake! “That sounds lovely. I’ll just have to shower and get dressed proper. You free tonight? You said it was going to be a lonely one...”
“Free as ever! Oh, I’m so happy! I’ll text you the deets and if I need anything… like alcohol.”
“Fantastic, I hope you like a good rosé.” | what if I slept my way to the top? I’m on top, aren’t I?”
5’ 9 - 190 lb | 5 Years
|Birth Name |
» Barbara Rose Somerville
|Hails From |
» Baton Rouge, Louisiana
» November 11, 1993 (23)
|Fighting Style |
» Ruthless in the ring, Barbie uses her loud mouth just as much as her strong body to break down her opponents. The bodacious blonde has been using her sharp words to cut up divas since long before she made it big in AWE. Barbie knows that once a mind is broken, the body follows soon after. A strong background in gymnastics and technical wrestling from a young age ensure that Barbie has the strength and skill needed to back up all the shit she talks - both in, and out of the ring - and she certainly talks a lot of it. Unlike the weight that her skinny namesake suggests, Barbie is thick with toned muscle and, despite the extra pounds that she carries, most of her ring time is spent in the air - whether that be jumping off the ropes, doing flips, and hip attacking opponents with one of her most powerful assets. When not exercising her more aerial talents, Barbie is keen on wearing down her foes' limbs through a couple of signature submissions.
|Signature Moves |
» Full Moon
» Rewind the Clip
» Legally Blonde {Pronounced: ‘Leg-uh-lee’ blonde}
» The Pole Dancer
|Finisher |
» Aerial Rear View {ARV}
» Seeing Stars
|Theme |
» “Baby go ahead
I'll be the villain you can blame
I'll be the belle of the brawl
Be the lust in us all
I'm the diva of the damned”
|Gimmick |
» Barbie struts to the ring dressed in practically painted on pink and purple - and often sparkly - outfits. A careful, modelesque stride, paired with a scantily clad wardrobe and a hypersexualized theme song, make Barbie’s entire entrance seem like one long strip tease. She keeps her clothes on, of course, this is a televised sport… but that doesn’t make it any less obscene. The blonde acts like a superstar on a stage, and the only thing bigger than Barbie Summers’ ass, is her ego. A lot of people claim that she slept her way up the ladder and, to a certain extent, she did; the managers, and Barbie herself, dial up the drama on these claims, and make a spectacle of it. Prone to witty retort and petty cat fights in the ring, with a strong skillset to back it up, Barbie truly is a belle of the brawl, and the reigning queen of the divas. Much like her beloved boyfriend, Barbie walks as if the ground she walks upon should be kissed - because it should, she’s the best around!
|Face or Heel |
» She may be a heel, but she is the highest of heels - a dangerous beauty that people love to hate. The crowd often chants insults along the lines of “You-suck-Drayden!”, to which Barbie always has a new, sarcastically flirtatious response. She blows kisses at her haters, and feeds off of their negative energy… there is a fine line between between such polarized emotions, after all.
|Backstage Rep |
» While Barbie Summers, the wrestling diva, is a super bitch, through and through; Barbara Somerville, the woman, has a much softer heart. Not all of her gimmick is an act, it is more like an intense exaggeration of her true personality than a complete falsehood. Raised the only girl of a litter of children, Barbie was doted on and spoiled as a child. She grew up looking to her older brothers for approval; They were huge fans of AWE, and this fandom naturally spread onto her. Despite the low funds available in her trailer park-dwelling, fatherless, bayou upbringing, Barbie was able to join gymnastics as a talent and participated in many beauty pageants - all-the-while keeping her tomboyish love of wrestling. The combination of her blonde-haired, blue eyed beauty, charismatic stage presence, athletic physique, and long time love of the sport made Barbie a perfect fit to become a wrestler when the company passed through New Orleans, scouting talent. Barbie was 18 when the opportunity to join AWE arose, and she risked it all in order seize it.
Barbie started off as a jobber - athletic, but a novice that was often booked to lose matches and build up other stars in the show. Barbie had bigger dreams than that... celebrity-status dreams. It wasn’t until last year - around the time that she started hooking up with Drayden - that Barbie Summers’ name became a household one. She ripped through the ranks until she could hold a crown all her own, beside her king. Talent isn’t totally sexually transmitted, of course. Barbie has actually been good enough to defend her championship title through quite a few major match ups. That being said, she values hard work and ambition above everything, and supports the underdogs in their own fight to the top - she was once in their place, and she crawled from even lower places than many of them. While her inherent pride makes her unwilling to easily give up the title, if it were to go to someone worthy, like Trinity - her biggest ring rival, but good friend backstage - Barbie could manage to accept that defeat.
|Other |
» While becoming the AWE’s women’s wrestling champion has been a dream come true, Barbara’s biggest dream is to make it big in Hollywood and become a true a-lister, as an actress.
» Barbara is a bookworm - she loves reading and is often seen with a book in hand or close by her side backstage. When she is working out, which she does a lot, audio books are much preferred over music. Steamy romance novels are a particularly guilty pleasure of hers, but stories of all varieties fascinate and enthrall!
» Understands and can speak french, more specifically the broken creole language that is spoken around the backwoods just outside Baton Rouge that she grew up in. And, yes, she does speak with a thick Louisiana-brand accent.
» FC: Iskra Lawrence |
49,059 | 1,324 | 32 | 2,789 | 249 | Main Event: Sexton P.S. Love vs. Thunderbird
Sexton Love had shown up for this week's TV in considerably better shape than the week prior. In truth it was pretty much impossible for him to have looked any worse, so maybe it wasn't that impressive an achievement. A few days ago, he got the call from a member of the "booking committee" (or "creative team" or whatever the hell they were calling themselves these days), letting him know that he would be working the main event against Thunderbird. As far as opponents go, it was a decent choice. The Bird was a fiery babyface, with a good amount of experience working in Japan as well as in the United States. Sexton had been asked to put Thunderbird over, which of course was not a problem, and the front office knew that he had the ability to make any babyface, whether they were wearing a headdress or not, look like a million bucks. Sexton was a lot of things, but a mark wasn't one of them.
Sexton stood waiting in the gorilla position. He'd been ask to go about 15 minutes, which was perfect. Just before exiting the locker room he had popped four somas (or was it five?), and knew they would take about that long to kick in. When the pills started to kick, that was his go-home signal. He probably could've just listened to time cues from the ref, but fuck that guy.
Sexton's music hit and he stepped through the curtain to a mixed reaction. This week's show was in Los Angeles, and Sexton himself was a California native. He had anticipated a bit of a hometown pop, and so he had come prepared to deal with it.
"The following contest is a first round match-up in the AWE World Title tournament! Introducing first, from Venice Beach, Cal--"
"Gimme the fuckin' mic!"
As he ripped the microphone from the ring announcer's hands, Sexton hoped that his F-bomb didn't come through on television. He suspected that it did. Oh well. At least it was after 10 PM.
"Listen here daddeh, because I got a little somethin' for ya. This is truly a new era for American Wrestling Entertainment. A new era, with a new champion. And you know Sexton P.S. Love wants a piece of that action darlin'. This company needs me as the World's Heavyweight Champion, and you know I need that belt just as bad. Sexton Love's got to have that world's title belt daddeh. He's got to have it. It's got gold on it. It's got platinum on it. It's got lead, iron, copper, and zinc! It's got uranium, and TITANIUM. It's got cobalt, asphalt, your fault, my fault, SAN ANDREAS FAULT! You heard that right daddeh."
Sexton lowered the mic for a moment, allowing the crowd to cheer. The line really made no sense, but it was all about delivery, just ask Superstar Billy Graham. After allowing the crowd to amp themselves up, Sexton began to speak again. It was time to bring them crashing down.
“Sexton Love is being oddly… polite here tonight, you don’t hear that very often from him.”
"I've been all around the world, and I've been a champion everywhere I went. I was a heavyweight champion in Canada, Japan, Iran, and Pakistan, a champion all over the world daddeh. But you know that I was born and raised in southern California."
Another huge pop.
"And I have never, ever, learned more about what it meant to be champion than last week in CHICAGO, ILLINOIS!"
And there it was.
“Nevermind.”
“Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha.”
The crowd turned on a dime, relentlessly booing the brash and arrogant villain. Was it cheap heat? Yes. But he was just getting started. Sexton tore off his t-shirt to reveal a Chicago Cubs jersey underneath, the team that beat the L.A. Dodgers in last year's National League Championship Series. Heat didn't come much cheaper than that.
"I'm DOWN for the Chi-Town darlin', because Sexton Love is a champion, and Chicago is the city of champions! Just ask the Los Angeles Dodgers! L.A. is a city of losers, and daddeh that just doesn't work for me..."
Sexton continued ranting, but his voice was being drowned out by boos. Suddenly, the sounds of A Tribe Called Red blasted through the arena as the crowd exploded. Thunderbird rushed down to the ring, instantly bringing the fight to Sexton and sending the fans into a frenzy. The proverbial shit was on.
Thunderbird took him from pillar to post, whipping Sexton across the ring and relentlessly beating him down in the corner with a flurry of punches. The Bird grabbed Sexton's jersey and pulled it off his back, holding it up high for the entire arena to see. He tore the jersey in half and threw it down as the crowd cheered.
“Thunderbird is doing what’s right and the fans are definitely in favor of it. Who can blame them? Sexton Love may as well have betrayed his hometown territory and committed high treason.”
Thunderbird turned around and was instantly met with a clothesline as Sexton exploded out of the corner. The cheers turned quickly to boos as the Lovely One began mouthing off to the fans. Looking for some payback, Sexton grabbed the Native American headdress that Thunderbird wore to the ring as part of his entrance and tore it up. He threw the shredded mess of feathers onto his opponent as he put to the boots to him, drawing even more heat.
“Yeah, and look what he got for it? Paid back in the fullest by Sexton Love, you never take your eyes off of a wiley opponent like the Sexecellence of Sexecution.”
Enraged at Sexton's display of disrespect, Thunderbird began to fire up, mounting a comeback with a series of shots to the midsection. With Sexton reeling, Thunderbird came off the ropes with a full head of steam but was cut off with a boot to the face. Sexton pointed to his brain as if to say he was "outsmarting" his opponent. Classic heel move. Sexton went for a cover, but Thunderbird kicked out at two. As soon as Thunderbird lifted a shoulder off the mat, Sexton transitioned from a pinning position to a reverse headlock, wearing his opponent down.
“And now he just keeps the pedal to the metal and closes this one out. Another feather in the cap, so to speak.”
“Is that a reference to the headdress being torn up?”
“...Maybe.”
Sexton tightened his grip, looking around at some of the fans in the front row. A younger fan was wearing a Thunderbird t-shirt and a Dodgers cap. Target acquired.
"Clayton Kershaw sucks!" screamed Sexton, trying to get a rise out of the fan.
"Let's go Thunderbird! Get him!"
"Shut up, kid! I'll be your new stepdaddeh!"
The kid's mother was sitting right next to him.
"What the hell did you just say?!? Kick his ass Thunderbird!" yelled the rather large woman.
"Fat broads need Love too!"
This was the best part of the job.
“Now that’s just plain uncalled for. These fans came here to see a show, not get picked on by the wrestlers!”
The crowd began to clap, willing Thunderbird to break the hold. The Bird reached out with one of his arms, as if drawing on the energy of the 15 000 plus in attendance. He slowly rose to his feet, but Sexton refused to relinquish the hold. Thunderbird hit a few elbow shots to the midsection, losing his grip, and then powered him up with a back suplex! This time it was Thunderbird with the nearfall.
“Look at Thunderbird feeding off of the energy of the crowd! It’s beautiful.”
“I still don’t think he has it in him.”
Both men slowly got up, with Thunderbird having a slight advantage. He hit Sexton with a kick and set him up for a double underhook powerbomb. BAM! Sexton was slammed down in the middle of the ring. The Warpath River Plunge. One of Thunderbird's favorite moves. 1...2...Sexton barely kicked out.
“You were saying?”
“Two count isn’t a victory, Wade!”
Still in control Thunderbird grabbed Sexton with a front facelock, lifting him into a suplex position. He held Sexton up in a stalling vertical suplex, a pretty impressive feat of strength, and prepared to flip him forward into a uranage slam. He called it the Totem Pole Suplex. At the last second, Sexton countered, hooking Thunderbird with a DDT and planting him down on his head!
The Impale-Her DDT! Thunderbird was rocked by the signature move, clutching his neck in pain. But the exhausted and battered Sexton was unable to capitalize right away. Finally, he crawled onto the cover. 1...2..Thunderbird kicked out! Frustrated, Sexton got up to his feet. He slapped Thunderbird across the head, yelling at him to stay down.
"You see this? This is the real Thunderbird, right here!" Sexton pointed down at his crotch, then slapped his opponent again.
“Sexton nearly had him there! And look at him taking the time with his opponent, taunting him.”
“Need I remind you that a two count isn’t a victory, Kane?”
Hooking Thunderbird's legs, Sexton bridged backwards into the Love Lock, essentially his own version of the legendary Muta Lock. He wrenched back on Thunderbird's injured head and neck, thrusting his bridging pelvis upwards repeatedly. Still feeling the effects of the DDT and earlier headlock, Thunderbird desperately crawled for the ropes to break the devastating hold. By now the crowd was fully in The Bird's corner, cheering him on to keep fighting. Thunderbird outstretched his hand, looking like he may tap out, but managed to pull himself just a little further and grab the bottom rope. The referee ordered Sexton to break the hold, but Sexton kept it applied for a few extra seconds. More heat.
Looking to finish things off, Sexton lifting up Thunderbird by his injured neck, and called for the piledriver. As he set his opponent up, Sexton's gaze found the same enthusiastic young fan in the front row.
"I'm gonna break his damn neck!"
“Here comes the end, see ya Thunderbird. Come back Wednesday, maybe you can open the show.”
The hesitation cost him, as Thunderbird exploded with a back body drop, countering the piledriver! 15 000 strong collectively lost their shit as the babyface fired up for his comeback. Thunderbird began a Tatanka-like war dance, strutting around the ring and ramping up the crowd.
“You never take your eyes off of your opponent, that was a rookie move from Sexton, taunting the crowd like that.”
Sexton fed in for a series of knockdowns and bodyslams as the Native American warrior built momentum. Sexton fell down to his knees, begging and pleading for mercy. The babyface balled up his hand into a fist but Sexton grabbed the ref by his shirt and pulled him in between them like a human shield. Thunderbird shoved the ref aside and grabbed Sexton, but Sexton quickly hit him with a lowblow! Having been thrown out of the way by Thunderbird himself, the ref wasn't in a position to see it.
“Not again! We just saw a tourney match end like that last week!”
“Shut up, Wade! You do what you need to do to win the damn tournament and take the AWE World Title home! Where I come from, cheater is just a fancy word for winner.”
“Remind me to never go where you’re from.”
“We don’t want you anyway.”
Boos began raining down, as the crowd sensed where the match was headed. With a smirk on his face, Sexton lifted Thunderbird up for his finishing move, the Sexecutor. He elevated Thunderbird into a torture rack position, relishing the moment. One last time, he looked at the fan at ringside.
"It's all over daddeh!"
Suddenly, Thunderbird trapped both of Sexton's arms form the torture rack position and rolled backwards! He countered the Sexecutor into a crucifix pin! Caught in the rollup, Sexton kicked his legs in panic, trying to break free of the pinning predicament! 1...2...3! Thunderbird had won the match!
“Again looking away from the business at hand! Too caught up in making sure the fans know he hates them, Sexton Love just got eliminated the AWE World Title tournament!”
“Even I have to hand it to Thunderbird, he took his shots when he could, and now he moves forward.”
Thunderbird rolled out, leaving an utterly shocked and stunned Sexton Love in the ring. The triumphant babyface walked up the ramp, his arm raised in victory as the announcer confirmed the result.
"Ladies and gentlemen your winner, THUUUUUUUUNDERBIRD!"
And not a moment too soon, as Sexton's somas began to kick. | Sexton P.S. LoveThe Sexcellence of Sexecution
6'4 - 269 lbs. | 10 years experience
|Hails From |
» Venice Beach, California
» July 29th 1988 (29)
|Fighting Style |
» Despite the flashy tights and flashy women, the Lovely One's in-ring style is anything but flashy. A true student of the game, Sexton Love has developed into a highly respected ring general, working an old school heel style. During a match, Sexton spends as much time focused on the women at ringside as he does on his opponent, and will frequently bail out of the ring to flex and pose in front of his female fans.
|Signature Moves |
» Sex Plex (Rolling German Suplex w/bridge)
» Piledriver
» Impale-Her DDT
» Massive Package (small package)
|Finisher |
» Sexecutor (Torture Rack Neckbreaker)
» Love Lock (Muta Lock)
|Theme |
»
|Gimmick |
» The Sexiest There Is, Sexiest There Was, and Sexiest There Ever Will Be...
Sexton P.S. (Purely Sex) Love is a sleazy, arrogant, womanizing heel with a seemingly endless stream of catchphrases. Sex sells, and nobody sells it better than Sexton Love. His main influences are Superstar Billy Graham, Macho Man Randy Savage, The Universal Hearthrob Austin Idol, and of course, Ravishing Rick Rude. Sexton Love is here to bring sexy BACK to American Wrestling Entertainment darlin', and become the new AWE World's Heavyweight Champion. He wants the title on his waist and the camera on his face daddeh, because whether you like it or not...SEX...SELLS!
|Face or Heel |
» HEEL
|Backstage Rep |
» Ask anyone in the wrestling business about Sexton Love, and they'll tell you the same thing: he lives his gimmick. His fans may be known as the "Sex Addicts," but in real life he is the one with the addiction. He goes out every night, in every town, and has established a network of devoted ring rats from coast to coast. "I'm the KING OF THE ROAD daddeh." His most important possession is his fanny pack, containing a Skittles-like cocktail of pain killers, Viagara, and natural male enhancement.
|Other |
» Face Claim: Michael P.S. Hayes |
49,060 | 1,324 | 33 | 272 | 738 | Location: The Rivers Residence
Interacting With: her followers on twitter
Amanda blessed the AWE Bookers for not getting her a match this week. She had been dealing with a shoulder injury since her bout with Sydney Ellis. It was probably that discus clothesline that did her right shoulder in and hurt it. Her physical therapist had told her to put some ice on it and not to use it too much over the next few days. That was hard to do considering her workout routine, which consisted of a lot of flexibility, cardiovascular, and strength training. But she figured her right arm could miss a workout session or two as she settled down and enjoyed her recovery time. Amanda didn't even realize it until the trip back home, where her shoulder was hurting like a bitch all of a sudden. That prompted a trip to her physical therapist and here she was, sitting on her couch in her home, watching AWE's latest card.
One segment that particularly peaked her interest was the first one, where it was Morgana vs Sydney Ellis. She was sinking slowly into her couch, watching Morgana work her magic on the microphone. Before Morgana got to the shit that stung, her beloved Pitbull, Bailey, had hopped up on the couch beside her and presumably watched along. The reference to the doll during Morgana's tirade had immediately clued off anyone who had a brain as to who she was talking about. Amanda leaned forward and watched carefully. "This is gonna be good..."
The segment was very, very interesting to say the very least. All those licks on Barbie definitely didn't make her happy at all. Once it was said and done, Amanda dived over to the table next to her couch and took her phone, a black iPhone 7. She opened up the Twitter, after locating the iconic bird with "99+" in the upper right corner. Those were probably all the mentions she had accumulated over the past few weeks. She hadn't bothered to check them just yet. Opening it up, she immediately went to composing a tweet. "That segment though... 👀" She then submitted it, before looking over to her dog who was looking like she wanted a walk. "Alright Bailey, let's go for a walk." | 5 - 09 - 152 lbs | 10 years
|Birth Name |
» Kenny Chen
|Hails From |
» Hong Kong, China
» April 14th, 1988 (29)
|Fighting Style |
» Kenny wrestles like a strong style wrestler, but with some high-flying luchadore style sprinkled in. He is afraid to start flying if the crowd wants something good. He's a very stiff, fundamental striker but is more than capable of pulling off extremely flashy and acrobatic moves if he needs to. Kenny loves to set up insane throws by softening up his target with a series of strikes before finally pulling off something you'd see in a kung fu movie. He is spectacular at selling moves, and prioritizes the safety of those in the ring with him.
|Signature Moves |
» Trailblazer (Double Underhook DDT
» Crouching Tiger (Underhook Powerbomb)
» Hidden Dragon (Springboard Leg Drop)
» Drunk Monkey (Tilt-A-Whirl Backbreaker)
|Finisher |
» River Bomb (Standing Corkscrew Moonsault)
» Spear (Spear)
|Theme |
» Man of Determination
|Gimmick |
» Kenny's gimmick is that he's Chinese. This allows him to channel the most iconic, relevant part of Chinese culture -- kung fu. This works in his favor because his English isn't too good (he can still sell a promo very well though), and holds himself as if an ancient kung fu warrior would. He tries his very best to be humble and grounded, trying to maintain a good image in order to appeal to AWE's Chinese fanbase. His attire and demeanor is an amalgamation of various kung fu icons such as Jackie Chan, Jet Li, Bruce Lee, etc. Most often he comes out shirtless with tight pants that are usually yellow with a black stripe running down the sides (paying homage to Bruce Lee's jumpsuit) and sometimes (like every three matches or so) he comes out with a bandanna to pay homage to Mortal Kombat's Liu Kang. Sometimes, if you're lucky enough, you can hear him making Bruce Lee noises.
|Face or Heel |
» Face
|Backstage Rep |
» He's a cool dude, however he is rather shy because his English vocabulary isn't large enough to really communicate what he wants to say. He respects everyone in the AWE, whether or not they have feuds, and does not like to quarrel with people. He welcomes fans and is more than willing to interact with them so long as they treat him with the respect he feels he deserves. Sometimes he brings an interpreter, Clara, along to help him interact with his fellow wrestlers, but she's usually busy so he's stuck to communicating via gestures and using every single bit of knowledge he has regarding the English language. He has two Twitter accounts (one in English and one in Chinese), a Facebook page, and an Instagram account.
|Other |
» speaks cantonese chinese, mandarin chinese, and some japanese, korean, and thai
» Eddie Peng |
49,061 | 1,324 | 34 | 1,435 | 3,654 | Collab with and
Another day, another show. Sometimes the grind got to him, but generally speaking… Wade Palmer loved his job. Every second of it, from beginning to end of each day was an adventure, and that he truly enjoyed. Aftershock was a personal baby of his, a pet project that he’d suggested to Roddy a few years back. Now it had a huge following, and he and Joy Ryder ran it together… and it was fun.
At its core, that’s what wrestling was supposed to be: fun. A lot of people took it too seriously, a lot of fans made it out to be something that it’s not and would attack wrestlers for even the slightest fault in the ring, on the microphone… Wade Palmer felt bad for Owen Sparks and Kidd Neon. When he checked the internet tomorrow, he was certain the internet wrestling community (the IWC, or as Roddy called them, ‘the dirty internet smarks’) would be calling for the public beheading of the two young’uns.
Wade sat down behind the desk of the Aftershock set and smiled at Joy, who was already waiting for him. Wade tossed a large bag of gummi worms onto the desk and chewed on one as the camera started rolling. Hurriedly swallowing it, Wade spoke to the camera. “Welcome to AWE Aftershock, where we talk about the show that just transpired, and bring a guest or two to come on screen and chat with us. Tonight… we nearly had a show end the same way last week’s did, in a questionable way, but. Everything went just fine as far as I can tell. We’ll address the question being asked by all the fans out there, trending #1 on Twitter all night… Where’s Caiden?”
One hand was rested on her notepad, the other hand was rolling her pen on the glass surface. Back and forth. Back and forth. When she found her opening to add to Wade’s dialogue, she stopped what she was doing and gave him her genuinely sweet smile, with just the right amount of her natural personality and just the right amount of her professional front, “Isn’t it obvious, Wade?” Joy raised her eyebrow, her expression displaying the fact that she couldn’t even fathom the possibility of this NOT being true. “He has bad blood with Roddy Quinn, so of course he’s going to use times like these, where he doesn’t even get a match on tonight’s show, to keep to his word and: Quote. Take this show over. One step at a time. Unquote.’” She brought her attention to the camera and confidently added, “And we all know he keeps to his word.”
“It might not be that obvious. Maybe, and I’m just spitballing here… but maybe he wasn’t here this week because he didn’t want to show his face after his despicable actions last week. OR, and I might be wrong here because it probably would have been announced… maybe he got suspended for being an asshole, Joy.” Wade accented his statement by viciously tearing a piece of his gummi worm off. “You don’t just attack referees and go on like nothing happened.”
Oh this shit again. Joy gritted her teeth in annoyance. “We both know, Mr. Palmer.” Her words were enunciated and her blue eyes glinted with serious passion, “Caiden Winters isn’t a coward. If he were, he wouldn’t have ‘attacked’ the referee after he DID warn him. The ref made a bad call. And you don’t cross, Caiden." Internally, Joy was getting hella’ grumpy, but she had to keep this professional. Straightening her body, she put her pleasant smile back on, while her eyes locked with the camera lens, “Did you hear that folks? Caiden might have been suspended. Do you believe it? Because I don’t. That would be another bad call, don’t you think? Why don’t you tell us what you think happened to Caiden Winters on Twitter and remember to @AWE and put the hashtag AWEAftershock.”
“I think Caiden Winters is plotting and deciding how he’s going to take out his rage on Roddy Quinn. But that’s not all I think; you want to know what I think? I’ll tell you. I think it’s a mistake. I think Caiden Winters needs to keep his head down after that little bout of rage, and wait until Roddy calls him and then he should ask for another chance, or he’s going to be screwed for the rest of his tenure here.” Did Wade the person believe this? Of course not, but he knew what to say to get Joy going, and he wanted this show to be hers more than his.
“What wrestler who kept his or her head down ever became a star? A LEGEND? None. Caiden Winters is a force to be reckoned with. He never stops doing his best just because his boss doesn’t give him credit. You know who does see his potential? The fans. And without our fans, where would we be? Caiden Winters deserves to be on the AWE and to get the respect he deserves, he has to make bold moves.”
“I guess we’ll just see how it goes, huh? Anyway, let’s move on.” Wade glanced down at his notes briefly, reading over them. “Did you catch what the Initiate did today? He just… took another man’s place in the tournament. I guess that’s the kind of thing he tries to push, huh? Well, Joy we’re one step closer to what you seem to want: total anarchy. Or maybe you’re less okay with people breaking the rules when you don’t have a crush on them.” Another gummi worm.
Did he? He did, didn’t he? She did NOT have a crush on Caiden. Without batting an eye or even blushing, Joy twirled her pen in her hand and smirked at Wade, “Let’s not go there.” As much as she wanted to make a low blow and use his relationship with her sister against him, she decided to keep things on track. Joy Ryder was a professional. “Like I said. To get noticed, sometimes you have to make bold moves. If they were so against the ‘total anarchy’ they would have nipped this match in the bud. Did they? No. Why? Because the fans liked what they saw. Who has more control now?” The company, the wrestlers, or the fans. If Joy gave into her emotions, she would have darted her pen at Wade’s face and stole his gummy worms… but, the show must go on. All personal feelings aside.
“It’s the fans. It’s always the fans who have the control. Maybe what you’re saying has some merit, maybe getting noticed IS that important, but I cannot and I will not sit by and watch as the wrestlers who are paid to fucking—” Wade was getting a little impassioned himself. Dude was a mark, hated heels. “—wrestle the other wrestlers attack referees, blindside their peers before they can start their match… even the low blows I saw tonight and last week… that kind of stuff would have legends in this business who worked until their bodies gave out and they couldn’t crawl to that ring to put on a show for these fans… the way some of the AWE roster acts would have those legends rolling in their damn graves. Did you see the despicable way that Sexton Love acted tonight? It’s disrespectful, and it’s damn near disgusting.” Keep things rolling, Joy.
“Oh you mean the low blow that cost Caiden his match? If I’m not mistaken, Caiden Winters fought right. It was after the fact that he decided to show us how he really feels.” Okay, she needed to keep this rolling, but she was still riled up from the heavy, negative focus on her favorite wrestler. For a second, she gave her peer dull eyes, before tapping her pen on her notepad and continuing, “And yes, I saw. And our fans reacted accordingly. You may be right with how there should be a limit to the way our wrestlers act, but I will stand by my opinion that there are exceptions. And the people who help make our grey lines more clear are tuning in tonight.”
“I agree with you. I don’t think the fans show up to get tormented like that, but what do I know… But you know what really spoke to the fans tonight? None other than Morgana — and if you talk to Kane later, despite what he may say… he was marking out and totally thought it was her father. Of course, all good things must come to an end, and she was interrupted.”
Joy’s expression brightened. She too had marked out, thinking her uncle figure was going to make an appearance. Her dad’s best friend showing up out of the blue? Insane. At last, it was all a ruse. A good one at that! On top of the excitement she had because of that, she also simply liked the Women’s Division and the drama that surrounded it. It was like some Real Housewives pettiness and she LOVED it. “Interrupted by someone we have never gotten many opportunities to hear as much as the other Divas before. And the thing that got me was, I could feel the tension... and I wasn’t even physically on the ring.”
“Luckily for us, and the fans, we’re going to get to hear some more from her tonight — without further adieu, please welcome our guest for the evening: Sydney Ellis.” Truth be told, Wade didn’t pay enough attention backstage to know for sure if all the drama was real or fake, but he did his best to keep Trinity mostly out of it… Not much longer, though.
Sydney Ellis marched into the shot and took her seat. She was wearing the same ensemble she has worn when she interrupted Morgana. She gave a curt nod to them both. "Joy. Wade,” she hammered, not looking in a great mood, but at least not openly hostile. "Yeah, I tend to let my actions speak for me, but tonight, I couldn’t let it go. There were things that needed to be said. And after all that, Morgana still has the gall to look down on me.”
“Morgana tends to look down on… well, everyone. It’s the way she’s always been, and I doubt a few strong words are going to change that. You’ll have to do more than that.” Wade explained, leaning forward as he chomped on another gummi worm. “I’d argue that the only way you’re going to get her to look at you any differently, is to beat her ass in the ring.”
"There are no excuses,” Sydney retorted icily. "There are no reasons why I would let anybody look down on me. I haven’t lost a singles match in thirteen months now. Beating asses in the ring is my first language. Maybe the message to Morgana simply didn’t get through to her in English.. Or maybe I’ll start every sentence with ‘Barbie’. That would get her attention. All Morgana cares about is the title she lost to a plastic doll that can’t fight. And she looks down on me?! It’s almost impressive how she managed such a pathetic feat!”
“There’s a lot of fire in you, and I’m sure I’m not the only one who really likes this side.” Joy complimented the wrestler, who sat on the other side of Wade. Tilting her head in curiousity, she took in the other woman’s words carefully and then inquisitively inquired, “Wouldn’t you care, though? If you lost the title from anyone really? You spend day and night, rain or shine, for this one thing and then finally. You have it and then someone comes around and takes it all away in a blink of an eye.” After taking a pause for a moment so her question could resonate with the audience and after she snapped her free hand's fingers when she said the word 'blink' to emphasize her point, Joy added, “I don’t know if it’s just me, but I feel like something would be wrong if any winner didn’t react to a certain extent.”
Sydney leaned back and smiled with an air of superiority that was sure to infuriate any of the women’s locker room that were watching. Regardless of how much they liked Dawn, Sydney was a nasty piece of work. "Honestly, if there’s a single woman back there that I couldn’t destroy in a fair fight, they’d have earned it. I wouldn’t hold my breath, though. If I became champion, that belt wouldn’t go anywhere anytime soon after.”
Raising an eyebrow in intrigue, her lips curving into a smirk, Joy chuckled, “So will you? Become champion, I mean. Because what you’re saying is, you’re fully confident you can take down all your competitors, including Barbie Summers. That’s a lot of competition.”
"You’re implying that Barbie would ever agree to fight me. She won’t. She’s a coward. One day she’ll be usurped by a woman who doesn’t disgrace that belt just by holding it, and they might accept a challenge of mine. But Barbie?” Sydney shook her head. "She did not get to where she is today by fighting. She won’t fight me. She’s not a fighter. She might spout several pages of the Mean Girls script at me, or pull some strings with her husband, or use every dirty trick in the book to claim to have beaten me without fighting me.” Sydney then looked straight down the hard cam. "Barbie Summers can not and will not fight me.” she challenged.
“Those are some fightin’ words!” This was why Joy loved the Women’s Division. The amount of drama that arises from a wrestler simply calling a bitch out. It was delicious! She couldn’t wait for more. “We’ll have to wait and see if Barbie tuned in and how she’ll react. Is she really the coward Sydney Ellis says she is? Or is she simply waiting for the perfect moment to assert her authority and show us who wears the crown?”
Pause for dramatic effect.
“Unfortunately, we’re out of time.” Joy pouted at the camera, wishing she could talk all night about the AWE, and then glanced over at Sydney, “Thanks so much for coming on today. I’m sure from here on out, we’ll hear more from you, yeah?
"That entirely depends on whether or not anything needs to be said in the future.” Sydney replied curtly.
“And with that being said, we bid you farewell for tonight, AWE fans. If you’re in the area, make sure to show up at the Golden 1 Center next Wednesday for Shock N AWE, and a trail of shows leading us there. Don’t forget to follow the AWE and all your favorite superstars on Twitter! Even if you can’t be in the arena, tune in next week. It’s the only way to find out who’s going to be the next champion.”
“Bye, guys! Oh, and don’t forget to keep tabs on the #1 trending question on the AWE’s twitter account. Where’s Caiden? Until next time on Aftershock.” With her beaming smile, Joy waved at the camera. The moment her twin brother said ‘and cut’, she slouched down in her chair. Thoroughly exhausted from numerous things, like her curiosity of where Caiden actually went tonight since he was nowhere to be found backstage, Joy sighed, “Great job everyone! I need… wine.” She was ready to go to the hotel and call it a night.
“He’s at the JW Marriott, Room 204A. Have fun.” WIth that, Wade Palmer and his bag of gummi bears walked off to fetch his girlfriend and eat donuts or do whatever it was she was doing. Probably, he mused, donuts.
Joy gave Wade a side glare as he walked off and then her attention, with her big, puppy dog eyes, was brought to her brother, who narrowed his eyes, “... you can take my car.” Grumbling to himself, he dug into his pant’s pocket, took out his keys, and tossed it at her, which fortunately, she caught with both hands (even if it almost hit her face). Looks like Chance Ryder was either carpooling with dad or taking the party bus... | I see you!
The best things in life are dangerous, like me.
5' ¾", 106 lbs - 5'8", 135 lbs
2 years Developmental, will debut soon with her husband
3 Years at AWE, 2 years at Developmental. 5 years total.
|Birth Name |
» Alice Jane Slayer (Kennedy)
» Ariel Michelle Slayer (Flanagan)
|Hails From |
» Atlanta, GA
» April 17 (26)
» October 22 (23)
|Backstage Rep |
» You got all these sweethearts dressed as bitches, guess what? Ari is a fucking bitch on and off the ring. She does not like you. It takes her a LONG time to accept you into her world because your flaws are blaring red and she fucking hates it. Some people do not get the concept of personal space. If she's doing her own thing, don't interrupt her. She enjoys dark humor, other people's drama, and crude people. Constantly observing her surroundings, she will size you up before you approach her. Ruthless. Entitled. & Impatient. She was never fond of dealing with people, which is honestly her biggest weakness on the ring. Charisma, that is. It isn't something that comes naturally to her like it does for her little sister.
As flawed as Ari is, those she does let in, like her husband, Michael Flanagan, know that she does mean well, but due to personal experiences, her built mechanism of verbally lashing out at people to protect her own, has gotten to a point where she can't really break it down over night. Ari is a tough cookie and audaciously bold. A risk taker, through and through. A primadonna is an understatement of her personality and Ari refuses to be considered less than. She aims to be in the big leagues, even if it means she might break a few bones...
You see, she and Michael were already dating prior to their debut at AWE, which was near the same time. It wasn't hard for him to gain attraction because even if he leans more on the timid side when he's out of character, he's a phenomenal heel and it shined through since day 1. Ari, however, spent her first two years figuring out her image. She was simply a blank canvas, a doll of a woman, and a temperamental wrestler, who fought well enough to get her to the mid card but required A LOT of polishing, as she tried her downright best to 'find herself' in the ring.
A year ago, Michael and her got married, and for a year, the writers have been pushing her more toward his storyline to enhance his biker boy look and guess what? It's working. People are starting to see the character behind the bitch. While Ajax is the tail gunner of his motorcycle gang, Fallen Angels, she is his queen. The Bonnie to his Clyde, who knows her way around her gun, or in this case the ring, and isn't afraid to use that to her advantage. She's a tough-talking, quick-shooting criminal and is growing to be a machine gun-blazing woman who you better not underestimate. Whenever she's threatened, she doesn't even flinch, she jumps right in and marks her territory. Fearless and it's all thanks to the writers pushing her more in the direction of the rebel girl archetype because it's something Ariel can actually relate to.
Fun fact: She isn't fond of motorcycles, but for love, she'll get on one.
» Amore hasn't debuted yet, but her face is known backstage because of her sister. The young, energetic valet aspires to be as influential as Jezebel (FC: Jessa Hinton), who was the Faceless' on-screen eye candy and eventual wife. Jezebel may have made the Faceless seem more humane, but Amore? She wants to do more than be an accessory for her love. Revolutionize the role of valets all over! At the root of it all, Alice is a business woman, who doesn't just want to 'accompany' her husband when she's on the ring with him. She wants to get heavily involved in the action inside, outside, within the audience-- ANYWHERE. A dreamer, the doll aims to earn the loudest pops of the night. Her beloved Benjamin tells her she has a niche and that is her charisma. Her stage presence. When Amore is in the spotlight, there is no doubt people will be starstruck.
Sneaky, cunning, and without hesitation, Amore will do absolutely anything for Mordecai to heighten his chances of winning. It helps that she has one sexy act that no one can top. Rated R, sexy-goodness. She acts like a child, but moves her body like a woman. Her influence is undeniable and even if wrestling isn't her top skill (it's singing and acting), she will go down in history!
As for backstage? A lovable, naive, playful and misleading young adult. Careless and foolish. Accidental prone when she isn't performing. Alice doesn't want to grow up, so she'll act far younger than she is. Oh, and she's scary possessive over her husband.
|Other |
» FCs: Kerli Kõiv & Jana
» 721728 & 324C83
|Fighting Style |
» Ari keeps you on your toes, you never know what to expect and has a passion for power. Known for her agility, high stunts, and her attitude, Ari, from the get go, set her sight on cleaning up the Divas division, showing that girls were more than accessories and tools. Even her sister, who does strut her body like it's nobody's business, isn't just that. A body. Amore is a character, whose insanity and giggles will be what the people remember. Psychotic little girl trapped in a woman's form.
Meanwhile, Ari has commitment to excellence and wants to be recognized as a professional wrestler, with Ajax by her side. Her goal: to be one of the most vicious Divas of her era. She doesn't even have to be one of the stars, she just wants to be scary. Although she isn't there yet, she will continue to work her ass off. Her current success is all thanks to her athleticism, hotheaded personality, impressive arsenal of offensive maneuvers, and her husband's biker persona.
Ari has countless ways of finishing her opponents and she will not give into status quo. A true queen of the rebels.
|Signature Moves |
» Highside (Diving Hurricanrana)
» Ari Bomb (Lita Bomb)
» Eating Asphalt (Swanton Bomb)
» Helmet Head (Hardiac Arrest)
|Finisher |
» Boneyard Moonsault (Moonsault)
» New Prime (Widow's Peak)
|Theme |
» Whatever she had before, doesn't matter. Now she has Superhuman to match Ajax.
|Gimmick |
» As said earlier in backstage rep, Ari is Ax's Bonnie to his Clyde. His ride or die. They have a fiery dynamic and shower each other with attention. They are motivated by chasing the danger, excitement, and action of wrestling. He's the gun, she's the trigger. If Ari isn't happy, Ajax is pissed. He might be the King of the Hill but without his queen, the high of living it dangerous 24/7 isn't as addicting. They're into each other in a visceral and physical way. There is a sense of co-dependency and downright bat-shit insanity between these two. Ariel even went out of her way to get 'His' tattoo on her lower back, to match Michael's "Hers" tattoo on his arm, to add to their act (when he wraps his arm around her, the audience would know - she belongs to him). A psychotic and possessive love story where their need for one another is absolutely dangerous for anyone, including each other.
Soon enough, the audience will learn crazy runs in the Slayer family because when Amore makes her debut, they'll see that the blonde is light years ahead in the insanity department.
As for fashion sense? Ari is a daredevil biker chick. Leather jacket with the Fallen Angels symbol, bustiers to showcase her stomach and her back (especially when her coat is off), leather boots, denim, the color scheme black and white, bandannas, anything really that makes her look like a total badass.
|Face or Heel |
» Heel
|Job at AWE |
» Amore will be a valet for Mordecai, who is her husband off screen.
|Skills |
» Persistent and high physical stamina
Charming and full of energy, Alice is an energetic doer, cheerful and extremely spontaneous. A true woman of action. Even if she doesn't seem it, she has strong observational skills and a keen sense to other people's feelings. Quite the problem solver, regardless of her outlandish methods. This spirited blonde would like to think she's an excellent diplomat and negotiator, especially when it comes to her pitching ideas. By nature, she's too open and direct to deliberately manipulate someone (lies and manipulation is foreign to her, unless it's for an act), but she will fight her cause until there isn't any fight left in her.
» Improviser
Perceptive, witty, and clever. Rarely missing anything that is important, because she approaches everything with curiosity and interest, Alice will take impossible situations and make 'em great. Her memory for details and facts are impressive. She absorbs everything that interests her like a sponge, storing it in her noggin for later use.
» Dancing, acting, and gymnastic experience.
Pretty point blank, Alice kept her family busy by getting them to sign her up to as much as possible so she can get better at... life. Also, with such a busy schedule when she was younger, she didn't need to be home, which was a far more pleasant option than dealing with the turmoil. Her home life drew her insane. Convincing her parents to get her involved in the community was the easy part, making them part of it, her life, though? Not so much.
» Odd & blessed with boundless creativity
Alice has always been a little weirdo. Too much individuality for one girl. And yet, she doesn't know how to be any different. Sure, some of her creative ideas are concerning and creepy, but why should she limit herself? If her mind wants to run rampant, it should! Being different isn't a bad thing and Alice will never change for anyone.
|Looks & Style |
» Inspired by her aunt, who led a broken family with dignity and grace, Amore strives to be a visual masterpiece. Her aunt was a woman who carried whatever she wore like a queen. A queen who had an undeniable ability to live a life of pure kindness. Alice's goal, no matter where she is, or if she's being Amore or not, is to make her image timeless. Definitive and iconic, to where it is her trademark. Her look. A look that pushes boundaries and continues to evolve. Alice wants to be a trend setter, a walking fashion statement, and when people look at their television screen or see her on the ring, she wants them to recognize her immediately and maybe, just maybe, follow her as an example. If she can aspire others to walk with an air of confidence, loving who they were, while also not being afraid to explore out of the box, then her life would be more than fulfilled.
What more could you ask for? She's happily married, she has endless projects that make her smile, she's about to start the career of her life that will hopefully set her on a remarkable path of happiness and success, and if she's able to move someone or an entire audience in ways not many people can, then she can say she is more than satisfied with the life she's been given.
Hardships aside. Alice is a happy girl.
|Personality Traits |
» Visionary → Imaginative → Fun-Loving → Gregarious → Persistent → Dutiful (even if she is unbeknownst to the fact that she's a tease) → Exuberant → Trusting → Picky → Dependent → Reckless → Fearful (primarily of her husband leaving her)
|Favorite wrestler |
» She's biased. Her husband, even if he hasn't made his mark yet. Alice will make it known that he's HER favorite. |
49,062 | 1,324 | 35 | 1,117 | 49 | Collab with
Zachary arrived at the Staples Center as early as he did any other arena, then immediately went to work approaching the writer’s office to find Kevin, the head of creative. There were a couple of ideas floating around in his mind that he wanted to bring up.
Zack was always a fan of the Staples Center. Any time he had a big match, it was here. And the last time he was in the arena was in his AWE championship match against Drayden a few months back. It was an insane brawl, where both men really showed their strengths and covered up each other’s weaknesses, and really got the crowd involved. There was back and forth, cheating and consequences for that rule breaking, and an incredible finish. It had it all.
Unfortunately, Zachary wasn’t on the card tonight, but he knew the crowd would enjoy the main event. Sexton Love, as silly a gimmick as it was, worked perfectly for a heel, and Thunderbird was an unbreakable face. Zack walked past the locker rooms where those two were undoubtedly preparing for their match, and into the more office-y area of the building. A knock on the door to Kevin’s office snapped him out of his creative daydreaming, and Wake entered the room.“Kevin, my man. How’s it going?”
Kevin had indeed been working on storylines and daydreaming. It was his favorite time of the day, sans for the few hours a night he spent with his fiancée; they were both busy people, so it was hard to get more than that little amount of time together a day. Whenever there was a knock on the door from talent though, Kevin snapped back to reality — they were always allowed to talk to him. He liked to think they truly appreciated it, as it hadn’t always been that way.
Before he became the head of creative, it had been hard for the wrestlers to get a word in edgewise with what they were doing. If you weren’t at the top of the card, you may as well have not existed. With Kevin and his team at the helm though, things had changed. People had a way to get their opinion in and to use their own ideas, which made them happier. Sure, sometimes the ideas… kinda sucked, and they needed some fine tuning, but happy people worked way better.
When he saw Zachary Wake standing there, Kevin brightened up — Wake owned, and was one of the top heels of the company; with the help of the booking lads, as Kevin’s group liked to call themselves, and Kevin loved to talk to him. “Hey, Zachary. What’s up, dude?”
“Well, I was just thinking about some bits and pieces, and wanted to know your thoughts on them.” Wake walked over to the desk, and took a seat so he was sitting across from Kevin. “I know you’re doing big things with Caiden, especially after our match last week, but I was thinking. Next week, you should let me open the show. I’m the one who took out the crowd’s fan favourite in the first round. It would be a great way to get some proper heat on me and to progress Caiden’s story.” Zack had matches with Caiden every now and then, but last week’s was the first where there were big consequences afterwards. They were usually just to progress other rivalries going on or the two were participants in a multi-man match. Zack wanted to know where the story between the two were going.
“Uh, well let’s see… Next show was mostly of Gary’s design, we like to pass the torch back and forth on a week-to-week. If I remember correctly, we have you penciled in middle of the show up against Thunderbird. We gotta keep that tournament rolling. Honestly? The tournament is just us making the best of a bad situation — it really threw everything out of alignment for the next… well, year almost. But hey, we’re professionals, so we’re working with what we got, y’know? I know what you’re gonna ask: when do I get to work with Caiden more? The answer is gonna disappoint you, sorry to say. Not for a while, as it stands. I want to keep you guys away from each other until the time is right and the light can shine on that feud, like it deserves. That being said, at the next PPV, you’re in a tag match.” Kevin was a fast talker, and spat all that out in about seven seconds. Just in case, he added at the end. “Does that make sense?”
“Uh… Most of it, yeah. I guess it would make sense to cut my promo before or after my match with Thunderbird then. If you’re alright with it, of course. Anyway, Winters. Our rivalry is gonna be held off for a bit. Hey, if it means a more meaningful storyline, I’m all for it.” In all honesty, Wake really enjoyed working with Winters. The two had a special kind of synergy most guys didn’t. Neither carries the entire match on their shoulders, they both shared the load, and they complimented each other’s styles incredibly well. “But, a tag match at the next show? Who’s the other participants?” Having a tag team match at the PPV meant he was most likely putting someone over. Not that it was a problem, but it seemed a bit sporadic. At least Zack was good at working a tag match. After all, he was tag champ WAY back in the day.
“It’s gonna be you and Kidd Neon against Razorblade and Owen Sparks. We’re really wanting to rebuild the tag division. The titles have been retired for too long, frankly. So, I figured you’d be happy to help, since you’re a solid tag wrestler. As for the promo, by the way, you can cut it as you come down to the ring, if you’d like.” Kevin paused for a moment, thinking to himself. “Owen and Razorblade going over, but you get to beat the shit out of Neon after the match. I know that’s gotta be a bit of a bonus, yeah?”
Zachary chuckled at the idea. It had been too long since he had the ability to do that, and he was happy to be able to do it again. It was how the team of him and Senji Veryhurt came to an end, after all. “Oh it’s a bonus, alright. Zack then regained composure, turning his large grin back into a regular smile. “Hey, I’m happy with that. I can definitely see those two going places. As much as I like the kid, Owen doesn’t really have what it takes to carry a singles championship. Not until he gains a few kilos, anyway.” And there was also Razorblade. Zachary didn’t really know much about him, but judging from his match with Clayton the week prior, he assumed he was almost identical in style. “They sound like a good team though. Should allow the two to really make an impact.”
“I sure fucking hope so. The plan is to let them carry the division until we can sign some big heavy hitting tag teams from other companies to help us build the division — homegrown talent is great, but when you’re getting a whole division rolling, with a roster of people who are all established singles wrestlers… it’s a pain in the ass. We’re throwing together two lower card wrestlers and hoping they can make magic happen…” Kevin shook his head. They were crazy, weren’t they? “If they can, we’re gonna follow through with it and get this tag division rolling. Did you have anything else you’d like to talk about?”
Zack was happy to hear his student was going to succeed. He’d been training the kid for a little while now, and it was starting to become more evident in Owen’s more recent matches. “I don’t think so. Thanks for the time, Kevin. I’m looking forward to whatever you come up with next.” Wake stood up out of his chair, and held his hand out for a handshake.
Kevin was happy to accept the handshake, giving Zack a nod. “Hey, anytime man. Can you do me a favor? Next week, if you can catch Owen and Razorblade, maybe run them through some basics of tag team wrestling? You’re pretty damn good at it, so it might help them.”
“Yeah, sure. I’ve got a training session with Owen later on this week, so maybe I can see if Razorblade’s available and run the two through the basics. Alright, catch you later man.” And with that, Wake exited the room, happy with his new plans for the future. | Zachary Wake
"Anyone who is too nice cannot be trusted. I'll leave them writhing in my wake!"
6'3" - 264lbs | 10 Years of Experience
|Birth Name|
» Zachary Hanson
|Hails From|
» Melbourne, Australia
» April 25, 1988 (29)
|Fighting Style|
» Zachary is rather simple in fighting, as his character focuses more on his natural charisma and way with words. Think Bobby Roode. He uses all the easily identifiable moves, sans high-flying and acrobatic styles. He likes to trash talk while in submissions/rest holds, and enjoys playing with the crowd's emotions, sometimes letting the face seem like they're going to get off a big move and then striking with a low blow when the ref isn't looking. He doesn't mind playing dirty, as it is just a means to an end, the end being the AWE Championship.
|Signature Moves|
» Eye Gouge
» Rope Hung Forearms but with his opponent one the other side of the barricade so the crowd can watch up-close.
» Liontamer
» Stalled Suplex
|Finisher|
» Sitout Electric Chair Facebuster
» Electric Chair off of the Top Rope (For the big matches)
|Theme|
» Is this epic enough?
|Gimmick|
» Zachary's gimmick is that he is the dirty heel that the fans love to hate. His promo work after 10 years of experience leads to him being able to play with the crowd and improv when they start chanting something. He purposely riles them up by beginning every promo acting as a face would, then insulting his rival at the time, which easily gives him some heat.
|Face or Heel|
» Natural Heel
|Backstage Rep|
» Zack is a well-respected and valuable member of the backstage crew, not just because of his in-ring work, but from the years of respect he's gained helping out the back. Each night he gets in early, leaves late and makes sure everyone does their bit in helping the show run smoothly. Whenever he's got spare time he sits down with creative to see where they think his character should be headed, and always tries to help them decide on the best choice for Wake.
As such, Zack understands and is confident in the booking decisions in relation to his character, whether it be win, lose or draw. He's fine with helping the young ones get over, since he has been there, and will do everything in his power to help them succeed. Zachary cares deeply about the business, and it shows.
|Other|
» In his time Zachary has had many shots at the big one, the AWE Championship, but has always come up short in the big matches. The closest he got to officially owning the belt was when he knocked out the referee, allowing him to strike his then-rival Drayden down with weapons. However, the decision was reversed, causing quite the stir-up and made his and Drayden's rivalry all the better.
» Zachary is a former three-time AWE Intercontinental Champion, and all three of those runs were quite meaningful, helping Zachary ascend to the upper-midcard rather quickly. The last of these runs ended around 9 months ago, but all of them lasted over 3 months. Since then, Zachary has taken a bit more of a back seat, returning to the midcard, but still making (failed) attempts at championships every now and again. When he isn't being used in storylines or championship matches, Zachary is the perfect guy for a 3-Way/4-Way #1 Contender Match (Think of Sami Zayn/Baron Corbin, in this respect).
» Zachary also had an short stint as AWE Tag Team Champion in a time when the tag division was particularly weak, teaming with a rather eccentric fellow named Senji Veryhurt, a stereotypical strong style Japanese wrestler.
» Face Claim: Ryan Botha
» ff0000
Owen Sparks
"I'm the spark of light in the darkness. The AWE title is as good as mine!"
5'9" - 178lbs | 1 Year of Experience
|Birth Name|
» Ian Owen Hamilton
|Hails From|
» Cincinnati, Ohio
» September 14th, 1998 (19)
|Fighting Style|
» Since he really has only just begun, Owen hasn't developed a broad moveset, but is leaning towards a risk-taking grappler/high flier, with little time for technical/brawling styles. Owen isn't what one would call a polished or magnificent wrestler, but he shows promise in the moves he can do well. Before entering his angle with Zachary Wake, Owen was very much a "Five Moves of Doom" type wrestler, and since the story has started, Wake has been helping Owen to expand his moves.
|Signature Moves|
» Flying Cross Body
» Step-Up Enziguri (Usually as the opponent is standing on a turnbuckle)
» Bridging German Suplex (To pin)
» Still growing, so a fourth move will come eventually.
|Finisher|
» Shocker (Monkey Flip into Crossface)
» Sparkling Brilliance (Swinging Backbreaker into Standing Backsault)
|Theme|
» Mmm, Electric Guitars
|Gimmick|
» Owen is the happy-go-lucky new babyface, both in-character and out, really. He is excited to be wrestling in any promotion, and shows great promise. He adds a new move to his arsenal every match, and is meant to portray a growing and changing wrestler-in-training. However, though he is a face, Sparks has recently become the apprentice to Zachary Wake, a heel who doesn't mind cheating to win. And it seems like Owen may soon adopt his teacher's philosophy in an attempt to stop his shaky win:loss ratio.
He's still developing his skills on the mic, but like all young wrestlers, he has some semblance of a natural charisma that is being pushed to be honed through promos either just before or after his matches.
|Face or Heel|
» Babyface
|Backstage Rep|
» Since he is relatively new to AWE Ian hasn't build himself a reputation quite yet. As such, only a few wrestlers really know Ian, and can put up with his slightly cocky attitude. He knows he isn't the best as that is just ignorant, but knows that he was picked up by AWE after only 1 year in the business meaning that the scouters either overestimated his talents, or they know that he has a lot of room to grow. Ian likes to believe it's the latter.
Regardless of wrestling talent, Ian is loyal to his close buddies, and is constantly trying to improve himself - both physically and mentally - through the help of those friends. He recognizes that there is a lot to be improved about himself, but can't pinpoint those problems by himself. As such, he often finds himself being arrogant to others, and potentially racist at times if he isn't careful.
Despite these flaws, there's a reason Ian nails the happy-go-lucky gimmick: It still comes to him naturally.
|Other|
» Owen Sparks is currently participating in an angle/feud with Zachary Wake in an attempt to help get Owen over with the crowd, by having Owen have a moral conflict between doing what's right, and doing what needs to be done for him to win. Zachary is trying to persuade Owen to cheat so he can get his wins up.
» Nickname(s): The Spark of Brilliance
» Face Claim: George Blagden
» DAA520 |
49,063 | 1,324 | 36 | 2,573 | 1,662 | A slightly nervous Ian, now ready to go as Owen Sparks, stood behind the curtain. He gave his arms one final stretch before the shredding of the electric guitar in his theme song began. After Sexton’s insightful words from the week prior, Owen stepped out from behind the curtain, microphone in hand, and began to walk down the ramp of Shock ‘n’ Awe.
“Los Angeles, how’s it going?!” The crowd gave cheers here and there, though none were as big as a proper, well-known wrestler like Caiden or Drayden. Listening to Sexton’s advice, Owen continued.
“You know, I’ve always loved this place. California seems like the place to be, and I’m going to prove that I deserve to be here.” Owen walked up the steel stairs beside the ring and onto the apron. “Tonight, I face Kidd Neon.” He then went in between the middle and top ropes, and stepped into the center of the ring. “And Kidd Neon doesn’t deserve to be here. I am here to show you that I deserve to be in this championship tournament. I am going to prove-”
“And it looks like Kidd Neon doesn’t want to hear any of what Owen has to say. And, really, who can blame him? Two young upstarts are getting a chance to showcase their abilities here.”
The auto-tuned voice of Kidd Neon’s theme song played over the arena’s loud speakers, interrupting Owen. Kidd Neon stepped out onto the ramp, throwing his hands up in the air as he looked out at the crowd. He made his way to the ring, looking like a psychedelic mess with his glowsticks and reflective strips on his pants, and also hiding the fact that he hated his theme music. Owen turned to face his opponent, shielding his eyes from the bright lights the boy produced.
At the ring Kidd Neon approached Owen with a look of contempt on his face, and started speaking into the microphone. Owen held it out for Neon to speak, all the while wearing a nonplussed expression. “I don’t belong here? I’ve traveled into higher states of consciousness and communed with the rave spirit that infuses our lifecore, yet you arrive on the scene and will take my place? You’re just like someone starting a rock band in 2017, an upstart with a stupid dream and no future.” Some boos came out after he took a cheap dig at the crowd’s musical tastes.
“Questionable music tastes aside, it’s time for Neon to prove his point. Does he belong here? The AWE fans don’t think so, and he’s only got this one shot to prove them wrong. Not even the passionate fans of our company from around the world could question if he belongs here if he won the AWE World Championship.”
“Dude, who cares about all that! What is he even ON? The rave spirit? Lifecore? As long as I don’t hear that bass drop again, we’re good.”
Owen couldn’t help but laugh at the verbal attack. “I’m sorry, I should rephrase that; you don’t belong anywhere near a wrestling ring, Neon. Your flashing lights give me migraines and your taste in music isn’t any better.” The crowd politely cheered at Owen’s insults, yet he wasn’t done. “And you think I’ve got a stupid dream, and that I’m going nowhere? Think again. I’m going places, places much higher than you ever have or will.” And with that, Owen dropped his mic, then battered Kidd Neon with a quick forearm. The crowd lit up at the sight of this, and cheers came from all over. Owen beckoned the referee into the ring, who rid the ring of the microphone, and rang the bell.
“And just like that, this match is underway! Let’s see what these two have for us tonight!”
“Y’know, if Kidd actually drops Owen like he drops the bass, I might expect more from him. Better bring the fire.”
Owen wasted no time following up the strike with a rather fake looking right hand, then pressed Neon against the ropes and jerked Neon’s arm towards him, irish whipping Neon to the ropes on the other side of the ring. Without slowing down, Owen ran after Neon, and as Neon turned to bounce off of the ropes, Owen’s right elbow had a rough collision with Neon’s jaw. Owen spun anti-clockwise out of the strike, then backed up to the ropes behind him, where he once more began running, using the ropes to propel himself at a right angle towards Kidd Neon.
As Owen ran, Kidd Neon wrapped his arm around his upper torso and bent his knees, but then paused for a moment, realising the two had screwed up the timing, before pushing him back to the ropes and sending him bouncing off again.
“Look at the defense mindset of Kidd Neon, shoving Sparks away just in time. It doesn’t get better than this.”
On the second approach, Neon got his arm in position and this time jumped into the air, taking Owen by his side with him as he completed the moonsault. Both wrestlers flew into the air and landed on the mat with a crash. Neon got up to his feet right after landing, and started mocking Owen as he laid on the mat, getting into his face and shouting at him.
“Hell to the yeah, ladies and gents. That’s why that mindset pays off. An effortless Energy Flash from the Kidd.”
Without missing a beat, Owen coiled up his legs and as Neon approached he stuck them out, kicking Neon in the stomach. The strike was admittedly a bit stiff, but as they had done many times before, both got into position for their next spot. Kidd Neon backed up into a corner, and Owen ran from the centre of the ring towards him. As Owen got close, he jumped, feet landing on Neon’s waist, and hands clutched his neck. Owen leant back, and as he dropped to the ground and Neon was above him, he kicked his feet up, attempting to monkey flip his opponent. The crowd got riled up for the potential for Owen to gain a quick victory, but those cheers were quickly silenced as Neon, easily flipped out of the hold and to his feet.
Kidd Neon dropped down and rolled out of the ring, then standing and turning to the Los Angeles crowd, full of fans from his hometown and held his arms wide open, expecting to hear cheers from seeing one of their own in the big leagues. And the crowd did cheer, but not for the reason the boy expected. Owen, still inside the ring, bounced off of the ropes opposite to Neon and sprinted towards him. Owen dived in between the middle and bottom ropes, launching himself at Neon. The two both fell to the ground, but Owen quickly stood up to the cheers of many. He stuck a finger up in the air and spun it around, indicating “one more time”.
“Look at the dive from Owen! Crazy athleticism from such a young talent. These two are both kids we’re sure to see around for a long time to come.”
“AWE will make them great. Are we staring at our next champion? WE’LL SEE. They got a lot of competition out there, but at least they got spunk. I’ll give them that.”
Owen climbed back into the ring and jumped up to the turnbuckle closest to Neon. He positioned his feet in a way that would allow him to get a nice jump, but almost slipped doing so, having to bend down and hold onto the corner to stay in his precarious position. Neon slowly stood up and turned to face Owen, acting slightly dazed. As soon as he did, Owen leaped off of the turnbuckle, reaching a tremendous height before crashing down with a flying cross body.
“The height! The young lions are putting it all on the line for the entertainment of this crowd, and it’s awesome. We just might be looking at the next champion, don’t you think?”
“They ain’t got manes yet. I’ll wait and see what else they have in store for us.”
The landing was rough, and both wrestlers were definitely going to be bruised for the next week. As the two laid doing in a heap, Owen whispered to Kidd Neon. “Let’s go into the kicks next. Make sure to sell the dives, though.” Neither of the competitors were amazing at selling, but they were both smart enough to know that no-selling big outside dives like that was plain stupid.
Owen picked his opponent up, and rolled him into the ring, going for a quick cover. The referee got down and began counting. One, two, and a quick shoulder up. As Owen was standing up, Neon rolled forward and threw out his legs, connecting against Owen’s head with the sole of his foot. Owen retaliated with a roundhouse kick, which Neon ducked under, but followed up with another kick with his other foot, all in one fluid motion. Neon shook his head and put one hand on his jaw after that impact, then frowned and ducked low for a sweeping kick that fell short, but he kept moving. Now he bounced up off the mat and turned onto his side, standing on one hand and hammering Owen straight in the temple with the tip of his foot. Owen tumbled to the side, but bounced off of the ropes behind him and jumped up, nailing Neon in the chin with a simple dropkick. As Neon was still reeling from the kick, Owen placed his hands beside his head and kicked up from his back, flipping onto his feet, then quickly placed one foot on Neon’s hip, and swung the other towards Neon on the other side of his body, connecting with a solid enziguri.
“Kick after kick after kick. I didn’t even know there were so many different ways to kick… learn something new every damn day.”
“Like a BRUCE LEE MOVIE, WADE! Shi---”
“Chill man, chill.”
Kidd Neon tumbled down landing flat on his side, shaking and writhing to sell the impact as he laid on the ground next to the turnbuckle. Owen saw an opportunity and started to pick up speed, holding his arm out like he was ready for an elbow drop. Neon jumped to his feet before Owen reached him, then lept onto the second rope and flung himself into the air. He dove over the head of Owen Sparks and wrapped one arm around his neck, then in one swinging motion brought him down to mat headfirst.
After a quick taunt consisting of doing the famous Melbourne Shuffle beside Owen as he lay collapsed on the ground, Kidd Neon helped him up only to send him into the ropes with an irish whip. Neon started running the ropes himself, sliding under Owen’s legs as the first passed each other, then leaping into the air and wrapping his legs around his head as the crossed paths again on the return trip. Both wrestlers spun around as the grip of Neon’s legs held tight around Owen’s neck, then Neon reached his arms over and wrapped up one Owen’s arms as he released his main grip. Again Owen’s face smacked the canvas as they hit the ground, and Kidd Neon wrenched the arm back as he returned to his feet.
Still gripping the arm, Neon stepped over it with one leg and wrapped it around the other leg as he spun around. He dived over Owen, grabbed hold of his shoulder in the middle of the roll, before landing and pinning him to the mat. With a leg entangling one of Owen’s arms and his arms cradling the other side, Neon had solid leverage for the pinfall. The referee knelt down to count the pin, shouting one, two then a sloppy kick out from Owen. The referee had to pull his arm away at the last minute as he almost counted the three.
Both wrestlers backed away to opposite corners, taking a moment to rest, prepare for the finish to the match, and allow the crowd to start up a chant.
“Look at that offense, just unbelievable the way he can maneuver like that. So impressive, are these young wrestlers, full of heart and energy and ready to prove to the world that they’re the best around.”
Let’s go Owen!
Owen sucks!
Let’s go Owen!
Owen sucks!
“Let’s go Owen…. Owen sucks.”
Owen smiled at the sound of the chants, and laughed when Neon acted offended. “Wait, he probably is offended. Oops.” Owen then gave a tiny, inconspicuous nod to Neon, and Neon nodded back, signifying the two were both ready. With that, Owen ran towards Neon, jumping and attempting to clothesline him into the corner. However, Neon ducked and rolled out of the way, making Owen faceplant into the top turnbuckle. Owen turned around so he was facing away from the corner, and Neon repeated Owen’s action, landing with the clothesline. Neon then grabbed Owen by the shoulders, who lifted a knee into Neon’s stomach. Owen then grabbed Neon and spun him around so he was in the corner. Next, he aided Neon in climbing up so he was sitting on the top turnbuckle. Owen took a few steps back before charging forward and stepping up with his left foot on the middle turnbuckle, then jumping up and kicking Neon in the temple with one more enziguri. Owen landed flat on his back but quickly stood back up, catching Neon sideways as he wobbled around and fell of the turnbuckle.
From this, Owen walked to the centre of the ring, directly facing the hard camera. Some of the members of the crowd stood up and cheered, knowing this was the beginning of the end. Owen spun Kidd Neon clockwise, letting go of him with his left hand and dropping to one knee, allowing Neon’s back to fall onto that knee for a picture perfect Swinging Backbreaker. If there was one thing these two were good at, it was selling each other’s finishers. As Neon writhed in pain on the mat, Owen stood in front of and looking away from him, then quickly jumped backwards into a Standing Corkscrew Moonsault, then remained on top of Neon to the referee’s count of three.
“Sparks got HOPS!”
Right as the referee slapped the mat for the last part of the count, Neon burst up with one shoulder, just too late to avoid losing. He didn’t clear it with Owen first, but the result was the same, Owen had won.
“And just like that, Owen has advanced in the tournament! Can he make it all the way? Stay tuned to find out.”
Owen slowly rose up to his feet, then allowed the referee to raise his factor at the victor. Before his theme started up once more, Owen grabbed a microphone from one of the guys standing on the outside of the ring. “And that, ladies and gentlemen, is proof. I don’t care who’s next, because I am on my way to the top!” Neon made a show of making an angry face and staring down Owen, but ultimately said nothing before walking off.
The crowd was absolutely livid, lively, and loud. Why? Because her theme song started off with her father’s intro with the steady heartbeat before the screech of her theme song came into play, causing the audience to have a near heart attack for a second, believing The Faceless was making an appearance. She did, however, wore his mask and everything that was planned had intention. She wanted them to remember. The AWE’s history is what brings them back to their seats, here at the STAPLES Center, and any stadium for that matter. Part of the AWE’s history was the beast that was her father. When Morgana was at the center of the ring, she let the crowd’s rage fill her with vigor as she stood there still, crossed arms, like her dad would do. When she was ready, and only when she was ready, she took the mask off slowly, gradually, with care, revealing her pale face. She looked down at it in total silence, listening to the crowd settling down, waiting for her to talk.
It was her time to shine.
Grabbing the mic away from the referee, Morgana brought it close to her lips and maliciously snickered, “Fooled ya.” And strutted around the platform, her ravishing hips moving with every prominent step she took. Her amorous face was what they’ve all been waiting for and so she would let them take her in.
Eat it up, babies.
As she seductively serenaded the masses with her nectar sweet words, she kept a tight grip on her father’s mask, “How many of you paid attention to our last show? If I remember correctly, I was told by a special someone, I don’t think I need to drop names for you all to know who, that I will never be anything but a mere shadow of my father. ‘What’s it like, little goth’, having to constantly live in the shadows of people that are sooooooo muchhhh better than you?’” There was undeniable mockery in Morgana’s tone when she quoted Barbie, emphasizing the valley girl that made her cringe on the inside and out.
Completely amused, her smile gleaming brightly, she widely grinned, “Give respect where respect is due. I am here, thanks to my father. If it weren’t for him, how would I have known that I am a true serpent in the still waters of the AWE? I am the fear in their souls. I am hell on Earth. The desire in me is far greater than any ‘doll’ that thinks they’re worthy for more than just a hand clap.” She softly patted her mic hand with her father’s mask to display her giving a slow and steady clap to the other divas. “I’m hungry. I want to throw anyone who gets in my way to the hounds. How would I have known how starving I was until I was fed? My fathers gave me a foundation. And I built my own legacy from it. Oh yes! I say fathers.” She paused and waved the mask in front of her face, with conviction and utmost seriousness with the words that flowed out her lush lips, that felt like venom coursing through their veins.
“Wouldn’t you say Roddy Quinn is daddy too? Not just for me, but for my father, and every star he gives the benefit of the doubt. Every star he FEEDS so that they can get a hunger that is hard to satisfy. That desire that can only be given after you take the bite of the apple from his garden of Eden. Oh!” Morgana dramatically gasped in surprise, her eyes widening, “Wait…”
Pause.
“When you think of Barbie what’s the first thing you think of? That she’s pretty in pink? Or that she too is what she calls a shadow of other people. Mm, especially the shadow of her Dray-dee-poo.”
By now the enchantress was by the rope, leaning on it and scanning the audience with her crystal blue eyes, “If she were alone, would she have built the kingdom that she wanted? Happily ever afters don’t last forever, especially to those that don’t respect the ones that help her lift her heavy crown. I don’t see a warrior. I don’t see a soul shining with royalty. I don’t see the hunger in her eyes. I see nothing.”
Morgana would be interrupted by another voice suddenly being heard in the arena, and it simply said, “You want to talk about people being nothing?” The crowd was left confused but the voice. It was not one they recognised immediately, but that was because it was not one used to talking. After a few seconds pause, it added the word; “Partner?” Now people were starting to catch on. At that moment, Sydney, in baggy green cargo pants, a black zip-up hoodie and her military camo cap with mic in hand, started to make her way down the ramp, met with a loud but mixed reaction. She was cheered for interrupting Morgana, but booed because the crowd remembered her treatment of Tsunami and Rosado last week. She brought the mic back to her face when she was halfway down the ramp.
“Last week, I lost a two-on-one handicap match. You might remember it. You were there, watching, posing and running your mouth while REAL wrestlers actually stayed at the ring, and wrestled. Oh no, wait. It was a tag match! And you were my partner! I remember now!"
By this time, she’d got to the ring, and slid under the ropes, getting to her feet. Now they were sharing the ring. "There are more women in this division than Barbie. I don’t care that you were the Champion a hundred days ago. I care that last week, you were supposed to have my back, and you didn’t, and I’m not the kind of woman you want to do that to. I might take it personally.”
There was always someone who wanted to take her limelight. Yawning widely, Morgana turned her body to face Sydney, who finally was using her voice for once. Wasn’t that absolutely delightful? “Then take it personally. At least then you’d be someone worth remembering.” Her lip pulled up in that wicked, devilish smirk she was known for.
Sydney lowered the mic, and started to walk slowly and purposefully towards Morgana, the expression on her face making it look like she was actually trying to kill her. ‘Stick to your strengths’, Dawn had been told earlier. She wasn’t the best promo-giver in the world, but being a soldier gave you a few skills when it came to being intimidating. After a few very tense seconds, Sydney smiled, though it was not a happy smile. She brought the mic back up to her face, and merely replied with "Oh yeah, speaking of remembering, that reminds me. How’s your face?” The ‘Oooooh!’ s started from the crowd. Even with Sydney’s dominant streak, it had been a good guideline for the women’s division to not piss Morgana off.
Morgana, or Mileena internally, gave Sydney a glint of respect from that comment, though externally, she glared at the wrestler that was testing her patience. “It’s seen better days. Actually, I was kind of disappointed. You could’ve done so much better.” Not only a sadist, but also a masochist. “It amazes me that you believed we could ever be partners. You want to be on my level?” With apathy, Morgana closed the space in between them. They were scarily close to one another. Chests only centimeters apart. “Climb, soldier.”
Those words took Dawn back to her own training. She tried to picture the Drill Sergeant in her head. Their mannerisms, their face, their venom. She’d need as much as she could get to make this like work.
With the deadliest and most venomous of stares Sydney had ever given, she sneered and then spoke, in a low, quiet, chilling voice; "Are you challenging me, Morgana? Because if you want a match, I’d be very happy to oblige you.” They stared at each other with hate for a little while longer, before Sydney dropped the bombshell.
"You’re not scary, Morgana. I know you get told that a lot, but people still tell you because you haven’t done anything about it. You’re just a pale ghost of your daddy. Would you like me to teach you what fear really is?”
Again with the ‘daddy’ comments. How unoriginal. Obviously, Sydney doesn’t stay tuned to phenomenal promos. That’s right, because she interrupted it. Rude. “Bite. Me.” Morgana hissed. To answer her question. Yes. This was not a challenge, it was an invitation.
Sydney got closer, and tensed her arms. It looked like she was about to hit Morgana, but before anybody could get too excited, she dropped the mic, and left the ring, making her way powerfully up the ramp, not looking back, and the boos started to rain in for her.
The crowd wanted blood.
The arena was silent for a few long moments. Nobody knew what was going to happen next. There was no activity. Nobody knew what to expect. Then something strange happened; The AWE main theme played and the titantron showed the text in black and white 'Local talent'; Chris Dent which got a few cheers from the local indie fans who knew the wrestler from his work in the local indie scene. He was known for being a really good wrestler and having no other gimmick to speak of, and his treatment by the AWE reflected this. His presentation was so plain and generic, it was refreshingly different. To the main theme being his entrance music, but the very basic titantron, to the plain black ring gear, boots armpads and trunks. He wasn't a vanilla midget but his build was average for a wrestler, his hair was long and he had a goatee. If one wrestler could embody the word 'wrestler', it was this guy; Chris Dent. His utter forgetfulness made him memorable.
He walked straight to the ring and climbed the steps to climb through the ropes in a truly unremarkable fashion, after which he calmly paced, waiting for his opponent.
Then the telltale rising pitch of a better-known wrestler started, and the lights turned purple. The crown immediately started cheering and booing in equal succession, but there was no doubt about it. The crowd was ignited! The reason why would become clear as the rising pitched sound reached it's end and a sea of purple fireworks showered the stage as both the song and the titantron mirrored each other in presenting the words "I AM THE ONE AND ONLY!" and standing in the glow of the fireworks, with his fist raised, and wearing silver trunks and knee-high purple boots and gloves, was Oscar O'Sullivan.
And it was true. As he made his way to the ring, preening and posing for the booing fans up the ramp, and offering hands to children only to rip them away to the child's anguish, he really was the one and only. Face or heel, Oscar was a through-and-through superstar. He was the exact opposite of Chris Dent in every way. For eleven years, Oscar had been a joy to watch. From his midcard feuds with wrestlers long since retired, to his World Title win, to his feud with Drayden which will forever go down in the annals of AWE history. He'd spend a lit of time recently in the lower midcard, with a brief push straight after his injury, but his skill at not just wrestling, but character work was a double edged sword. He was a useful tool to elevate other stars. He could make anyone feel important, and thus that's what his task had become. But no matter what position on the card he was in, the crowd loved him.
When Oscar reached the ring, and he and Chris faced off; the two most different styles of character one could hope to see in the same ring, the bell wrong, and they immediately started to grapple, and to the surprise and shock of the audience, Chris pushed Oscar to the floor.
It was at that moment that Chris suddenly started getting cheered properly for the first time in the night. They grappled again, and this time circled each other, but the moment Chris shielded Oscar from the ref's line of sight, Oscar delivered a swift knee below the belt and then caught Chris in a headlock, which was held for long enough, Oscar gauged, for the loud boos Oscar was getting for such a despicable act to die down. Oscar then called "Now" to Chris, too quiet and subtle for the cameras to pick up, and Chris slipped out of the headlock and twisted Oscar's arm painfully around, which, once the cheers had started to die down, was reversed into Oscar's own armlock, and then Oscar kicked the man's legs from under him and started to choke him before the ref pulled him away. The crowd were being taken on a rollercoaster, but Oscar didn't want to wear them out, just keep them hot for the rest of the night, and he eased off and started to pace Chris like a hungry lion while the younger indie guy recovered. Oscar then ran at Chris, but he leapfrogged over the heel and started to turn round, but was caught by a Pele kick to the face, followed by a Second Rope Moonsault, but Oscar didn't cover. Instead he gestured to Chris' prone body as if you say 'Do you guys believe I'm fighting this pathetic nobody'.
While Chris was still writhing, Oscar climbed to the top rope, and raised his fist, which used to be a sign that he was about to his the Six-Axis, a fan favourite move, but fans knew better. Heel Oscar would gesture for the move and hit a knee drop instead, and fans knew not to get their hopes up anymore. Sure enough, he leapt knee first, but Chris put his own knees up and Oscar landed painfully onto them.
As Chris stood up, now Oscar was writhing. This time, Chris went to the top rope and delivered a Swanton Bomb to Oscar. The crowd roared excitement, and the commentary team lost their shit screaming assorted phrases like 'No! No!' and 'It's gonna happen!' and 'What an upset! If Oscar is beaten in round one by local talent!'
Chris made the cover. 1....2...kick out. Oscar kicked out incredibly close. The crowd went wild. This was amazing T.V.! Oscar and Chris both slowly got to their feet and stared at each other, and as they did Oscar realised that it was time to wrap up this quick match lest the audience get burned out, and Gethin's match was next. Oscar wanted them hot for that one! He charged Chris who made a move to grab Oscar but he dropped to his knees and slid under Chris' reach, getting back to his feet without breaking stride, rebounding off the ropes and delivering a flying knee to Chris' face, flooring the local talent. He then dragged the younger wrestler up painfully by his hair.
Chris' cries being picked up loud and clear by the mics so that they didn't get drowned out by the cascade of boos. He then set Chris up for a Crucifix Cutter, hit the move, made the cover, 1, 2, 3. Oscar had beaten the local talent and moved on to round 2 of the tournament. The smarks were cheering as hard as they could, and the casual or local fans were booing. The crowd hadn't had a second of silence throughout the short match. As Oscar made his way to the back, followed shortly after by Chris, that was when the crowd finally started to die down. Oscar had made Chris look good, which in turn made Oscar look good as he'd just beaten a good wrestler as opposed to just some jobber. Chris' career will also get better after this. Literally nobody lost. Oscar O'Sullivan really was the One and Only.
Oscar O’Sullivan’s match had come to a close. It was short but the audience let their inner animals come out, having gone completely wild from the hype, consumed by the pure elation, ecstasy, and entertainment that is the AWE. Joy Ryder stood beside one of the more… vicious animals in the building. Not necessarily a monster because there was strategy and tactics behind the brutality. A monster got lost in their blood rage and most, if not all, didn’t understand what they were doing that made others shake and quake with the very sight of them. There was purpose in this wrestler, always purpose, which honestly made this man far more intimidating than his colleagues because he knew what he was doing. From the root of his impulses to the expressions on his face, he knew what he was doing.
Gethin Rhys.
Although he was beyond charming, with a smile that could make anyone that was sexually attracted to him swoon, she knew better. Joy knew what he was capable of doing and how merciless he could and would be out on the ring. Some say a brutal artist, which he preferred, she related him more to a compulsive predator, constantly calculating his next move, while keeping that blinding smile on. “Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome my guest at this time.” Pausing for a brief moment, she gazed up at the handsome man with her cute dimpled smile, but there was a slight edge in her expression, as if she were personally uncomfortable because she, along with the audience, feared this man. Was it fear, though? Or did she simply not trust the heel that stood before her? “Gethin Rhys!”
And with his introduction done, she could get straight into the promo. “Gethin, so what are your thoughts with how the AWE World title tournament came to be?" She paused for a second and then added, “With Drayden’s injury and all.”
Gethin looked down at the small yet striking young woman and consciously decided to only lower his charming grin slightly instead of getting rid of it completely. “First, allow me to congratulate you Miss Ryder, you are looking as beautiful as always.” The human torture device brushed a gentle finger across Joy’s marble skin before speaking again. He had not asked her permission to do that but he knew Joy or at least he hoped he did. She loved getting lost in the moment and making his character seem even more horrible was something she would jump at the chance to exploit. For his benefit, of course. As a result, Joy visibly cringed but kept the act up. He touched her. Gritting her teeth behind her closed smile, she nodded to him as her ‘thank you’, but knew he had more to say.
“Secondly, well, I consider Drayden’s injury to be very unfortunate, I mean, after all I wanted to be the one to take him out myself. Not to worry though, when he comes back… I hope he enjoys the adulation from the sycophants, virgins and morons we call our fans. It won’t last. You see, Drayden will get his rematch for the championship and sadly for him, it’ll be against me. And when his blood has dyed that grey canvas red and the little kids tears in the crowd have stained the arena floor… that will be my masterpiece. That’ll be the end for him. This tournament doesn’t mean a thing. I debuted in a tourney remember? The Wally Norton Battle Classic. I won that, no problem. This thing will be the same. Bet on it.”
The handsome Welshman took the glasses from his face and placed them somewhere off camera. “Next question, darling.” Gethin cracked his famous fists and knuckles, his hands worn from the hard hitting style that had become his signature over his ten years pro. For a moment his mind wandered to his days as a young lion in Japan before the icy gaze of one Joy Ryder brought him back to the present.
Aha, darling. “As justified as your confidence is, be careful... Icarus too was confidant, until he flew too close to the sun. You don’t think there’s other competition out there for you? I’m sure Drayden may very well get his rematch, but who’s to say it’ll be against you? Well, besides you.” Joy felt like she was treading dangerous waters, showing her lack of faith in Gethin Rhys, doubting his abilities to take the title home. Biting her bottom lip, she brought the mic to his mouth and waited for his response.
Gethin’s eyes furrowed slightly. How dare she say something like that. He clenched his teeth and inhaled deeply, cracking his neck slowly and loudly for the microphone to pick it up clearly. He was holding back, that itch, that fever that tore apart his soul. The Edward Hyde inside his Henry Jekyll was clawing to the surface, clambering for air in the abyss. Gethin raised his left hand, the striker placed it softly on its side onto Joy’s shoulder, “You feel that? That’s control. Don’t dare speak out of turn again.”
Removing his hand and dropping it back into his other waiting palm, he continued on, “I never said there wasn’t any competition, my dear. Competition is what keeps me going. It’s what makes me, me. That said, there may be competition but none can beat me. Bring me Owen Sparks. Bring me Savaka. Thunderbird. Hell, bring me your brother in Japan. It doesn’t matter who I fight, they’ll lose and I’ll tell you why. I have the one thing every wrestler fears; the ultimate hold. My Owari Death Clutch cannot be broke, that is a fact Joy and I dare anybody to come and try. Test me and you will fail boys, you will fail.”
Maybe her brother will come at some point! Joy didn’t know. He didn’t keep her in the loop with his wrestling career. All she knew was what she found on the internet or the occasional skype calls of him talking about everything BUT wrestling, like the newest ramen flavor he tried, having a snapchat series called: Ramen Review. Blake Ryder was a man who liked to surprise, especially when it came to him coming home.
Gethin Rhys’ ego was bigger than his head and she prayed to god one day her brother would make this sick fighter kiss the very ring he considered his life. His home. Internally, Joy’s stomach curled with how Gethin thought he was warranted to continuously touch her, as if she was a mere object to make him look good. She knew this was all acting, but still, she was a woman who thrived off of the moments and by hell, this moment was irritating the shit out of her. “I think they’ve heard enough.” Joy’s stare turned cold, deciding Gethin didn’t need to say anymore. It was her job to help him, but overstep your boundaries and she’ll fucking walk away. Beatrice can bitch at her later. “We’ll see what you have in store for us! Oh, and--” Before exiting the frame, she glanced back at him and grimaced, “Don’t tell me what to do.”
The interviewer was the first to leave and Chance Ryder, the videographer, kept the camera on Gethin Rhys for a little bit longer, after making sure the sound guy aimed the boom to the wrestler, to pick up any last words.
Turning to face the camera directly, a sick grin crossed the strong style killers face and a dirty, sadistic chuckle cleared his throat. “A word of warning; gentlemen of AWE, I am the most dangerous professional wrestler on the planet. This we all know. Professional violence is what I do for a living. Step into the ring with me and you have two choices. Knock out or I choke you out. Whatever your preference. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go kill some idiot and then I’m going to go find myself a nice girl...or boy you know me, I’m not prejudiced. Good day.” Gethin reached down and pulled his gumshield into frame and placed it into his still grinning mouth before walking out of shot.
After the tantalizing interview of Gethin Rhys by Joy Ryder, the crowd was ready for some action involving "The Welsh Dragon" but before that match was to happen the eerie music of The Creation started playing through the arena. The crowd booed because they wanted to see one of the best heels in the business, but instead they'd have to see another big guy squash some local competitor. As the big guy was making his usual approach, someone with an unmistakable mask on his face trotted out behind the beast making similar motions with the major difference of the masked man carrying a bat. As the crowd started cheering Initiate lightly tapped the creation on the shoulder. Once the broodish man turned around Mathys raised the bat and 'swung' right at the mans head sending him to the floor. Under the mask Mathys was smiling nearly as big as his mask was. He pretended to inspect the guy as if making sure he was out when in reality he was just making sure he didn't hit him to hard. Once satisfied with the crowds reaction, Mathys lifted Creations arm and placed the bat under there and patted the man on the head. He stood up and instantly looked towards the ring where the LC was and cocked his head as if confused. The crowd started chanting
LET'S GET WEIRD!
LET'S GET WEIRD!
At the end of the second 'weird' Mathys bolted towards the ring and slide right in. He hopped to his feet then pointed from the ref, to Magic Hawkins, to himself, then finally to the timekeepers area. He did this two more times until someone came to the ring and must have told the ref that this was know the match. While the ref spoke to the message man and the timekeeper Initiate waltzed over to Magic and stood in front of the man before starting to poke the man on the chest. Magic quickly smacked Initiate's hands away and Mathys stayed frozen until he heard the ref telling the two to get in their corners. Mathys slowly went to his position but as soon as the bell rang he rushed right at Magic and delivered running dropkick. Mathys quickly did a kip-up from his position and noticed Creation being helped to taken out back. Initiate walked to the ropes and hopped on the bottom one staring at his victim while bouncing up and down on the rope.
Magic took this moment to run up and flip Initiate over the ropes causing him to land on the outside of the ring. Magic then set up in a way he could run towards the opposite ropes for a boost to do a suicide dive. Initiate slowly got up looking around wildly as if confused on how he ended up outside the ring. He stood up and began turning towards the ring just as Magic was about to launch through the ropes. Quickly Initiate leaned to the side of Magic's aim grabbing Magics shoulder and body swiftly spinning to smash him down in a Snap Scoop Powerslam. Most of the crowd exploded at the unexpected move. Initiate lifted up his opponent and rolled him into the ring. He slid in right after him and picked magic up setting him up for a Final Cut. Magic shoved Initiate off hitting him with a quick elbow and then bounced off the ropes running towards Initiate. Initiate quickly lifted Magic high in the air stumbling backwards then dropping him on to the ropes in a Stun Gun. Initiate rolled on top of his downed opponent for the one, two, three.
Initiate stood up and rapidly clapped. He walked towards the ref and gave him a massive bear hug. He then proceeded to lift Magic and pushed him out the ring. He followed him out and then helped him up the ramp when before leaving he quickly gave him a noogie. He then dropped the man right there and left as if nothing even happened.
The Staples Centre descended into darkness as the lights went black. This could be a prelude to the entrance of many of the AWE’s finest in ring performers. Yet when the unmistakable retro synth beat began to bleed into the arena through the speakers, it meant only one thing; Gethin Rhys was coming. Purple flames began to rise across the titantron before the Welsh Dragon’s name appeared in cursive. The dull blue spotlight effortlessly blended with the 80’s neon to reveal the chiselled human torture device standing atop the stage. There was no flash Rhys; his ring gear was simple enough; black trunks, kickpads, boots and gumshield. The only design being the Welsh flag on the front of his trunks. As the tempo increased, the pinks turned into blood reds and the lingering cheers transformed into a thundering storm of boos and jeers. None of this would matter as Gethin began his deliberately slow and sinister walk to the thing he called home; the squared circle. His eyes were filled with pain and their gaze had not left the cowering young man who stood in the far corner of the ring.
Gethin Rhys was the most dangerous man in AWE; everyone knew it. Other wrestlers were more technically sound true; others were more charismatic but none could turn up the intensity like Gethin, none could make you more scared for a performer than him. He was often named the most violent wrestler on the planet and for good reason. He had been seduced by the glow of violence from an early age. It had enthralled him, it had warped him into what he was today. Some called him a monster. Gethin Rhys was not a monster, he was an artist; a brutal artist and the ring was his canvass. Tonight would be the start of his masterpiece.
He entered the ring as the lights came back up to normal; his eyes had not once left his opponent. Chad 2 Badd was his name or something like that. It didn’t really matter because Gethin was going to eat him alive. As usual, the ref had already placed his hands on Gethin’s chest to stop him from tearing the poor little sods heart out before the bell even rung. A sick smile crossed the Welshman’s face as the referee called for the bell to start the contest.
Chad of course went for the collar and elbow tie up. That wasn’t going to work for the man from Cardiff. In an instant, Gethin had already planted Mr 2 Badd into the ground with an arched yakuza kick straight from the corner to the young lads face. Within a millisecond, he was on top of his opponent, raining down hard open handed strikes to his head and neck. Of course not a single one of these actually connected, Gethin was a professional after all and protecting your partner was part of the craft. He threw a final strike before whispering into Chad’s ear "Corner spot.” Getting to his feet, Gethin shoved his fingers into Chad’s open mouth and grabbed his upper jaw, with a hard yank he began to drag the terrified youngster to the corner before pulling him to his feet. Pulling his hand free, the brutal artist slapped Chad 2 Badd again before leaping and driving a stiff knee into his opponents chin.
YOU SICK FUCK! YOU SICK FUCK! YOU SICK FUCK!
The crowds disdain was like ecstasy for Gethin as a wry smile crept upon his lips. As he approached Chad again, the plucky youngster pressed both his hands forward into Gethin’s gut with a double palm strike. Seeing an opportunity, Chad went after his winded foe with a few more hard strikes. The Welsh Dragon burst into a fit of laughter as he motioned for Chad to continue hitting him. With every blow, Rhys began to laugh more and more before finally he switched gears. One, two slap to the face, right leg kick and a spinning left heel kick to the gut and Chad was hunched over. Gethin hooked the legs from beneath his opponent, sending him to a seated position and setting him up for vintage Rhys. The Dragon ran the ropes and sure enough he struck with a devastatingly stiff penalty kick to the chest of 2 Badd. Gethin’s strikes were best in the game, no one could deny that fact. The crowds massive cheers with every successful strike was testament to the fact.
Raising a single finger to his lips, Gethin began to shush the crowd and they did what they were told. They knew what was coming. Grabbing Chad 2 Badd’s left hand, the ruthless ring general pulled him to his feet before tearing the fingers apart with his signature finger snap move. The crack of the bone echoed throughout the arena followed by sudden thump of foreheads as Gethin cracked Chad with a headbutt.
YOU SICK FUCK! YOU SICK FUCK! YOU SICK FUCK!
The crowd began again and they were right. All of this was just overkill. Gethin could have finished this with one move but that’s not how the surgeon of this theatre operated. Blood began to seep lightly from beneath Rhys hairline and he grinned again. Chad 2 Badd was out but it wasn’t over. There was one last thing to do. As the blood trickled down his head, Gethin closed let out a sigh of release. He took a knee and wrapped his arm around his opponents neck in a dragon sleeper before modifying it by interlocking his far hand behind his back with the other. This version of the dragon sleeper was known as the Owari Death Clutch and Gethin had said he was going to bring it to the AWE. Chad 2 Badd did not even tap out from the End Waltz, his body was limp and as the bell rang Gethin took a second before releasing him.
"Thanks brother.” Gethin whispered before getting to his feet and listening to the announcers confirm his advancement in the AWE tournament and the crowd jeer him with a small patter embracing his brutality.
PRO VIOLENCE! PRO VIOLENCE! PRO VIOLENCE!
Following the brutal Gethin squash, the crowd were clamoring for another match; for more violence, but suddenly the lights went out, as did the titantron. The entire arena was in complete, sudden, unexplained darkness. As far as the crown knew, it could be a powercut. After a few very tense seconds, the titantron showed a flickering lightbulb, followed by a longer spell of silence and darkness, but now the crowd were reassured that this was deliberate.
Then, the familiar music of a music box started playing, and suddenly the whole arena started to cheer. They knew what this meant. They knew what was back. Another image started to show on the titantron, and they quickly quietened down and started to pay attention.
The video on screen was CCTV footage of a bandaged man in a hospital. It cut away to a shaky cam showing the 'Burns Ward' sign. It went dark again, but still, the unsettling music played. The titantron flared back to life, this time showing still pictures of nurses unravelling the man's bandages. In each of the pictures, the nurses faces were harshly scored out with a pencil. The last picture passes by very quickly but still slow enough to everyone to have registered it. It was the bandaged man grabbing a nurse's throat. In this one her face hadn't been scored out, and was a contorted, sickening scream of shock and pain.
The series of pictures then moved onto another CCTV video. This time it was a fisheye camera recording a padded cell. A figure in a straightjacket was sitting down, facing away from the camera. This footage must have played with no changed for a solid thirty seconds, before a roll of static went down the screen, and suddenly the figure was right in front of the camera, staring up at it. Many of the audience jumped. There were a few more cheers now, as the face that could now be seen was definitely Hector. The cheers were definitely lost in the overpowering silence of the majority of the crowd.
Suddenly, a grainy, black and white cartoon started to play. It was just cutesy 1930's style animals walking around a village and talking, but with the music, and in context of what they saw before, it was really creepy. Slowly, it would dawn on the crowd that the buildings in the background were melting. Then the sun and clouds started melting. Then, as the characters themselves started to melt, still with smiles on their faces, the music started playing backwards.
The cartoon burned away in a fire, the vivid color and realism of the flames bringing the crowd back from the cartoon. Now, on the Titantron, in his old gear and mask, was Hector, though his green and white ring gear was charred as if burned, and his mask, before a creepy, blank smiling mascot head, was now slightly melted into something even creepier than before. He appeared to be standing besides a chain-link fence, and it was night-time. He leaned into the camera, and spoke, in a menacingly jovial tone; "I can't wait to play more games with you all!"
The Titantron went off. The lights came back on, and there were some cheers of excitement, but it wasn't deafening. Many of the crowd was still shocked to silence. Everybody, however, was of the same opinion; What they had just watched was amazing.
Sexton's music hit and he stepped through the curtain to a mixed reaction. This week's show was in Los Angeles, and Sexton himself was a California native. He had anticipated a bit of a hometown pop, and so he had come prepared to deal with it.
"The following contest is a first round match-up in the AWE World Title tournament! Introducing, from Venice Beach, Cal--"
"Gimme the fuckin' mic!"
As he ripped the microphone from the female ring announcer's hands, Sexton hoped that his F-bomb didn't come through on television. He suspected that it did. Oh well. At least it was after 10 PM.
"Listen here daddeh, because I got a little somethin' for ya. This is truly a new era for American Wrestling Entertainment. A new era, with a new champion. And you know Sexton P.S. Love wants a piece of that action darlin'. This company needs me as the World's Heavyweight Champion, and you know I need that belt just as bad. Sexton Love's got to have that world's title belt daddeh. He's got to have it. It's got gold on it. It's got platinum on it. It's got lead, iron, copper, and zinc! It's got uranium, and TITANIUM. It's got cobalt, asphalt, your fault, my fault, SAN ANDREAS FAULT! You heard that right daddeh."
Sexton lowered the mic for a moment, allowing the crowd to cheer. The line really made no sense, but it was all about delivery, just ask Superstar Billy Graham. After allowing the crowd to amp themselves up, Sexton began to speak again. It was time to bring them crashing down.
“Sexton Love is being oddly… polite here tonight, you don’t hear that very often from him.”
"I've been all around the world, and I've been a champion everywhere I went. I was a heavyweight champion in Canada, Japan, Iran, and Pakistan, a champion all over the world daddeh. But you know that I was born and raised in southern California."
Another huge pop.
"And I have never, ever, learned more about what it meant to be champion than last week in CHICAGO, ILLINOIS!"
And there it was.
“Nevermind.”
“Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha.”
The crowd turned on a dime, relentlessly booing the brash and arrogant villain. Was it cheap heat? Yes. But he was just getting started. Sexton tore off his t-shirt to reveal a Chicago Cubs jersey underneath, the team that beat the L.A. Dodgers in last year's National League Championship Series. Heat didn't come much cheaper than that.
"I'm DOWN for the Chi-Town darlin', because Sexton Love is a champion, and Chicago is the city of champions! Just ask the Los Angeles Dodgers! L.A. is a city of losers, and daddeh that just doesn't work for me..."
Sexton continued ranting, but his voice was being drowned out by boos. Suddenly, the sounds of A Tribe Called Red blasted through the arena as the crowd exploded. Thunderbird rushed down to the ring, instantly bringing the fight to Sexton and sending the fans into a frenzy. The proverbial shit was on.
Thunderbird took him from pillar to post, whipping Sexton across the ring and relentlessly beating him down in the corner with a flurry of punches. The Bird grabbed Sexton's jersey and pulled it off his back, holding it up high for the entire arena to see. He tore the jersey in half and threw it down as the crowd cheered.
“Thunderbird is doing what’s right and the fans are definitely in favor of it. Who can blame them? Sexton Love may as well have betrayed his hometown territory and committed high treason.”
Thunderbird turned around and was instantly met with a clothesline as Sexton exploded out of the corner. The cheers turned quickly to boos as the Lovely One began mouthing off to the fans. Looking for some payback, Sexton grabbed the Native American headdress that Thunderbird wore to the ring as part of his entrance and tore it up. He threw the shredded mess of feathers onto his opponent as he put to the boots to him, drawing even more heat.
“Yeah, and look what he got for it? Paid back in the fullest by Sexton Love, you never take your eyes off of a wiley opponent like the Sexecellence of Sexecution.”
Enraged at Sexton's display of disrespect, Thunderbird began to fire up, mounting a comeback with a series of shots to the midsection. With Sexton reeling, Thunderbird came off the ropes with a full head of steam but was cut off with a boot to the face. Sexton pointed to his brain as if to say he was "outsmarting" his opponent. Classic heel move. Sexton went for a cover, but Thunderbird kicked out at two. As soon as Thunderbird lifted a shoulder off the mat, Sexton transitioned from a pinning position to a reverse headlock, wearing his opponent down.
“And now he just keeps the pedal to the metal and closes this one out. Another feather in the cap, so to speak.”
“Is that a reference to the headdress being torn up?”
“...Maybe.”
Sexton tightened his grip, looking around at some of the fans in the front row. A younger fan was wearing a Thunderbird t-shirt and a Dodgers cap. Target acquired.
"Clayton Kershaw sucks!" screamed Sexton, trying to get a rise out of the fan.
"Let's go Thunderbird! Get him!"
"Shut up, kid! I'll be your new stepdaddeh!"
The kid's mother was sitting right next to him.
"What the hell did you just say?!? Kick his ass, Thunderbird!" yelled the rather large woman.
"Fat broads need Love too!"
This was the best part of the job.
“Now that’s just plain uncalled for. These fans came here to see a show, not get picked on by the wrestlers!”
The crowd began to clap, willing Thunderbird to break the hold. The Bird reached out with one of his arms, as if drawing on the energy of the 15 000 plus in attendance. He slowly rose to his feet, but Sexton refused to relinquish the hold. Thunderbird hit a few elbow shots to the midsection, losing his grip, and then powered him up with a back suplex! This time it was Thunderbird with the nearfall.
“Look at Thunderbird feeding off of the energy of the crowd! It’s beautiful.”
“I still don’t think he has it in him.”
Both men slowly got up, with Thunderbird having a slight advantage. He hit Sexton with a kick and set him up for a double underhook powerbomb. BAM! Sexton was slammed down in the middle of the ring. The Warpath River Plunge. One of Thunderbird's favorite moves. 1...2...Sexton barely kicked out.
“You were saying?”
“Two count isn’t a victory, Wade!”
Still in control Thunderbird grabbed Sexton with a front facelock, lifting him into a suplex position. He held Sexton up in a stalling vertical suplex, a pretty impressive feat of strength, and prepared to flip him forward into a uranage slam. He called it the Totem Pole Suplex. At the last second, Sexton countered, hooking Thunderbird with a DDT and planting him down on his head!
The Impale-Her DDT! Thunderbird was rocked by the signature move, clutching his neck in pain. But the exhausted and battered Sexton was unable to capitalize right away. Finally, he crawled onto the cover. 1...2..Thunderbird kicked out! Frustrated, Sexton got up to his feet. He slapped Thunderbird across the head, yelling at him to stay down.
"You see this? This is the real Thunderbird, right here!" Sexton pointed down at his crotch, then slapped his opponent again.
“Sexton nearly had him there! And look at him taking the time with his opponent, taunting him.”
“Need I remind you that a two count isn’t a victory, Kane?”
Hooking Thunderbird's legs, Sexton bridged backwards into the Love Lock, essentially his own version of the legendary Muta Lock. He wrenched back on Thunderbird's injured head and neck, thrusting his bridging pelvis upwards repeatedly. Still feeling the effects of the DDT and earlier headlock, Thunderbird desperately crawled for the ropes to break the devastating hold. By now the crowd was fully in The Bird's corner, cheering him on to keep fighting. Thunderbird outstretched his hand, looking like he may tap out, but managed to pull himself just a little further and grab the bottom rope. The referee ordered Sexton to break the hold, but Sexton kept it applied for a few extra seconds. More heat.
Looking to finish things off, Sexton lifting up Thunderbird by his injured neck, and called for the piledriver. As he set his opponent up, Sexton's gaze found the same enthusiastic young fan in the front row.
"I'm gonna break his damn neck!"
“Here comes the end, see ya Thunderbird. Come back Wednesday, maybe you can open the show.”
The hesitation cost him, as Thunderbird exploded with a back body drop, countering the piledriver! 15 000 strong collectively lost their shit as the babyface fired up for his comeback. Thunderbird began a Tatanka-like war dance, strutting around the ring and ramping up the crowd.
“You never take your eyes off of your opponent, that was a rookie move from Sexton, taunting the crowd like that.”
Sexton fed in for a series of knockdowns and bodyslams as the Native American warrior built momentum. Sexton fell down to his knees, begging and pleading for mercy. The babyface balled up his hand into a fist but Sexton grabbed the ref by his shirt and pulled him in between them like a human shield. Thunderbird shoved the ref aside and grabbed Sexton, but Sexton quickly hit him with a lowblow! Having been thrown out of the way by Thunderbird himself, the ref wasn't in a position to see it.
“Not again! We just saw a tourney match end like that last week!”
“Shut up, Wade! You do what you need to do to win the damn tournament and take the AWE World Title home! Where I come from, cheater is just a fancy word for winner.”
“Remind me to never go where you’re from.”
“We don’t want you anyway.”
Boos began raining down, as the crowd sensed where the match was headed. With a smirk on his face, Sexton lifted Thunderbird up for his finishing move, the Sexecutor. He elevated Thunderbird into a torture rack position, relishing the moment. One last time, he looked at the fan at ringside.
"It's all over daddeh!"
Suddenly, Thunderbird trapped both of Sexton's arms form the torture rack position and rolled backwards! He countered the Sexecutor into a crucifix pin! Caught in the rollup, Sexton kicked his legs in panic, trying to break free of the pinning predicament! 1...2...3! Thunderbird had won the match!
“Again looking away from the business at hand! Too caught up in making sure the fans know he hates them, Sexton Love just got eliminated the AWE World Title tournament!”
“Even I have to hand it to Thunderbird, he took his shots when he could, and now he moves forward.”
Thunderbird rolled out, leaving an utterly shocked and stunned Sexton Love in the ring. The triumphant babyface walked up the ramp, his arm raised in victory as the female announcer confirmed the result.
"Ladies and gentlemen your winner, THUUUUUUUUNDERBIRD!"
Another day, another show. Sometimes the grind got to him, but generally speaking… Wade Palmer loved his job. Every second of it, from beginning to end of each day was an adventure, and that he truly enjoyed. Aftershock was a personal baby of his, a pet project that he’d suggested to Roddy a few years back. Now it had a huge following, and he and Joy Ryder ran it together… and it was fun.
At its core, that’s what wrestling was supposed to be: fun. A lot of people took it too seriously, a lot of fans made it out to be something that it’s not and would attack wrestlers for even the slightest fault in the ring, on the microphone… Wade Palmer felt bad for Owen Sparks and Kidd Neon. When he checked the internet tomorrow, he was certain the internet wrestling community (the IWC, or as Roddy called them, ‘the dirty internet smarks’) would be calling for the public beheading of the two young’uns.
Wade sat down behind the desk of the Aftershock set and smiled at Joy, who was already waiting for him. Wade tossed a large bag of gummi worms onto the desk and chewed on one as the camera started rolling. Hurriedly swallowing it, Wade spoke to the camera. “Welcome to AWE Aftershock, where we talk about the show that just transpired, and bring a guest or two to come on screen and chat with us. Tonight… we nearly had a show end the same way last week’s did, in a questionable way, but. Everything went just fine as far as I can tell. We’ll address the question being asked by all the fans out there, trending #1 on Twitter all night… Where’s Caiden?”
One hand was rested on her notepad, the other hand was rolling her pen on the glass surface. Back and forth. Back and forth. When she found her opening to add to Wade’s dialogue, she stopped what she was doing and gave him her genuinely sweet smile, with just the right amount of her natural personality and just the right amount of her professional front, “Isn’t it obvious, Wade?” Joy raised her eyebrow, her expression displaying the fact that she couldn’t even fathom the possibility of this NOT being true. “He has bad blood with Roddy Quinn, so of course he’s going to use times like these, where he doesn’t even get a match on tonight’s show, to keep to his word and: Quote. Take this show over. One step at a time. Unquote.’” She brought her attention to the camera and confidently added, “And we all know he keeps to his word.”
“It might not be that obvious. Maybe, and I’m just spitballing here… but maybe he wasn’t here this week because he didn’t want to show his face after his despicable actions last week. OR, and I might be wrong here because it probably would have been announced… maybe he got suspended for being an asshole, Joy.” Wade accented his statement by viciously tearing a piece of his gummi worm off. “You don’t just attack referees and go on like nothing happened.”
Oh this shit again. Joy gritted her teeth in annoyance. “We both know, Mr. Palmer.” Her words were enunciated and her blue eyes glinted with serious passion, “Caiden Winters isn’t a coward. If he were, he wouldn’t have ‘attacked’ the referee after he DID warn him. The ref made a bad call. And you don’t cross, Caiden." Internally, Joy was getting hella’ grumpy, but she had to keep this professional. Straightening her body, she put her pleasant smile back on, while her eyes locked with the camera lens, “Did you hear that folks? Caiden might have been suspended. Do you believe it? Because I don’t. That would be another bad call, don’t you think? Why don’t you tell us what you think happened to Caiden Winters on Twitter and remember to @AWE and put the hashtag AWEAftershock.”
“I think Caiden Winters is plotting and deciding how he’s going to take out his rage on Roddy Quinn. But that’s not all I think; you want to know what I think? I’ll tell you. I think it’s a mistake. I think Caiden Winters needs to keep his head down after that little bout of rage, and wait until Roddy calls him and then he should ask for another chance, or he’s going to be screwed for the rest of his tenure here.” Did Wade the person believe this? Of course not, but he knew what to say to get Joy going, and he wanted this show to be hers more than his.
“What wrestler who kept his or her head down ever became a star? A LEGEND? None. Caiden Winters is a force to be reckoned with. He never stops doing his best just because his boss doesn’t give him credit. You know who does see his potential? The fans. And without our fans, where would we be? Caiden Winters deserves to be on the AWE and to get the respect he deserves, he has to make bold moves.”
“I guess we’ll just see how it goes, huh? Anyway, let’s move on.” Wade glanced down at his notes briefly, reading over them. “Did you catch what the Initiate did today? He just… took another man’s place in the tournament. I guess that’s the kind of thing he tries to push, huh? Well, Joy we’re one step closer to what you seem to want: total anarchy. Or maybe you’re less okay with people breaking the rules when you don’t have a crush on them.” Another gummi worm.
Did he? He did, didn’t he? She did NOT have a crush on Caiden. Without batting an eye or even blushing, Joy twirled her pen in her hand and smirked at Wade, “Let’s not go there.” As much as she wanted to make a low blow and use his relationship with her sister against him, she decided to keep things on track. Joy Ryder was a professional. “Like I said. To get noticed, sometimes you have to make bold moves. If they were so against the ‘total anarchy’ they would have nipped this match in the bud. Did they? No. Why? Because the fans liked what they saw. Who has more control now?” The company, the wrestlers, or the fans. If Joy gave into her emotions, she would have darted her pen at Wade’s face and stole his gummy worms… but, the show must go on. All personal feelings aside.
“It’s the fans. It’s always the fans who have the control. Maybe what you’re saying has some merit, maybe getting noticed IS that important, but I cannot and I will not sit by and watch as the wrestlers who are paid to fucking—” Wade was getting a little impassioned himself. Dude was a mark, hated heels. “—wrestle the other wrestlers attack referees, blindside their peers before they can start their match… even the low blows I saw tonight and last week… that kind of stuff would have legends in this business who worked until their bodies gave out and they couldn’t crawl to that ring to put on a show for these fans… the way some of the AWE roster acts would have those legends rolling in their damn graves. Did you see the despicable way that Sexton Love acted tonight? It’s disrespectful, and it’s damn near disgusting.” Keep things rolling, Joy.
“Oh you mean the low blow that cost Caiden his match? If I’m not mistaken, Caiden Winters fought right. It was after the fact that he decided to show us how he really feels.” Okay, she needed to keep this rolling, but she was still riled up from the heavy, negative focus on her favorite wrestler. For a second, she gave her peer dull eyes, before tapping her pen on her notepad and continuing, “And yes, I saw. And our fans reacted accordingly. You may be right with how there should be a limit to the way our wrestlers act, but I will stand by my opinion that there are exceptions. And the people who help make our grey lines more clear are tuning in tonight.”
“I agree with you. I don’t think the fans show up to get tormented like that, but what do I know… But you know what really spoke to the fans tonight? None other than Morgana — and if you talk to Kane later, despite what he may say… he was marking out and totally thought it was her father. Of course, all good things must come to an end, and she was interrupted.”
Joy’s expression brightened. She too had marked out, thinking her uncle figure was going to make an appearance. Her dad’s best friend showing up out of the blue? Insane. At last, it was all a ruse. A good one at that! On top of the excitement she had because of that, she also simply liked the Women’s Division and the drama that surrounded it. It was like some Real Housewives pettiness and she LOVED it. “Interrupted by someone we have never gotten many opportunities to hear as much as the other Divas before. And the thing that got me was, I could feel the tension... and I wasn’t even physically on the ring.”
“Luckily for us, and the fans, we’re going to get to hear some more from her tonight — without further adieu, please welcome our guest for the evening: Sydney Ellis.” Truth be told, Wade didn’t pay enough attention backstage to know for sure if all the drama was real or fake, but he did his best to keep Trinity mostly out of it… Not much longer, though.
Sydney Ellis marched into the shot and took her seat. She was wearing the same ensemble she has worn when she interrupted Morgana. She gave a curt nod to them both. "Joy. Wade,” she hammered, not looking in a great mood, but at least not openly hostile. "Yeah, I tend to let my actions speak for me, but tonight, I couldn’t let it go. There were things that needed to be said. And after all that, Morgana still has the gall to look down on me.”
“Morgana tends to look down on… well, everyone. It’s the way she’s always been, and I doubt a few strong words are going to change that. You’ll have to do more than that.” Wade explained, leaning forward as he chomped on another gummi worm. “I’d argue that the only way you’re going to get her to look at you any differently, is to beat her ass in the ring.”
"There are no excuses,” Sydney retorted icily. "There are no reasons why I would let anybody look down on me. I haven’t lost a singles match in thirteen months now. Beating asses in the ring is my first language. Maybe the message to Morgana simply didn’t get through to her in English.. Or maybe I’ll start every sentence with ‘Barbie’. That would get her attention. All Morgana cares about is the title she lost to a plastic doll that can’t fight. And she looks down on me?! It’s almost impressive how she managed such a pathetic feat!”
“There’s a lot of fire in you, and I’m sure I’m not the only one who really likes this side.” Joy complimented the wrestler, who sat on the other side of Wade. Tilting her head in curiousity, she took in the other woman’s words carefully and then inquisitively inquired, “Wouldn’t you care, though? If you lost the title from anyone really? You spend day and night, rain or shine, for this one thing and then finally. You have it and then someone comes around and takes it all away in a blink of an eye.” After taking a pause for a moment so her question could resonate with the audience and after she snapped her free hand's fingers when she said the word 'blink' to emphasize her point, Joy added, “I don’t know if it’s just me, but I feel like something would be wrong if any winner didn’t react to a certain extent.”
Sydney leaned back and smiled with an air of superiority that was sure to infuriate any of the women’s locker room that were watching. Regardless of how much they liked Dawn, Sydney was a nasty piece of work. "Honestly, if there’s a single woman back there that I couldn’t destroy in a fair fight, they’d have earned it. I wouldn’t hold my breath, though. If I became champion, that belt wouldn’t go anywhere anytime soon after.”
Raising an eyebrow in intrigue, her lips curving into a smirk, Joy chuckled, “So will you? Become champion, I mean. Because what you’re saying is, you’re fully confident you can take down all your competitors, including Barbie Summers. That’s a lot of competition.”
"You’re implying that Barbie would ever agree to fight me. She won’t. She’s a coward. One day she’ll be usurped by a woman who doesn’t disgrace that belt just by holding it, and they might accept a challenge of mine. But Barbie?” Sydney shook her head. "She did not get to where she is today by fighting. She won’t fight me. She’s not a fighter. She might spout several pages of the Mean Girls script at me, or pull some strings with her husband, or use every dirty trick in the book to claim to have beaten me without fighting me.” Sydney then looked straight down the hard cam. "Barbie Summers can not and will not fight me.” she challenged.
“Those are some fightin’ words!” This was why Joy loved the Women’s Division. The amount of drama that arises from a wrestler simply calling a bitch out. It was delicious! She couldn’t wait for more. “We’ll have to wait and see if Barbie tuned in and how she’ll react. Is she really the coward Sydney Ellis says she is? Or is she simply waiting for the perfect moment to assert her authority and show us who wears the crown?”
Pause for dramatic effect.
“Unfortunately, we’re out of time.” Joy pouted at the camera, wishing she could talk all night about the AWE, and then glanced over at Sydney, “Thanks so much for coming on today. I’m sure from here on out, we’ll hear more from you, yeah?
"That entirely depends on whether or not anything needs to be said in the future.” Sydney replied curtly.
“And with that being said, we bid you farewell for tonight, AWE fans. If you’re in the area, make sure to show up at the Golden 1 Center next Wednesday for Shock N AWE, and a trail of shows leading us there. Don’t forget to follow the AWE and all your favorite superstars on Twitter! Even if you can’t be in the arena, tune in next week. It’s the only way to find out who’s going to be the next champion.”
“Bye, guys! Oh, and don’t forget to keep tabs on the #1 trending question on the AWE’s twitter account. Where’s Caiden? Until next time on Aftershock.” With her beaming smile, Joy waved at the camera. The moment her twin brother said ‘and cut’, she slouched down in her chair. Thoroughly exhausted from numerous things, like her curiosity of where Caiden actually went tonight since he was nowhere to be found backstage, Joy sighed, “Great job everyone! I need… wine.” She was ready to go to the hotel and call it a night. | Daniel “DC” “Don’t Call Me Danny” “Danny” “Danny Church” Church
6’ - 184 lbs | 12
|Birth Name |
» Daniel Church
|Hails From |
» Sacramento, California
» October 9th, 1985 (31)
|Job at AWE |
» He does not work at AWE. However, he is often at their events and is friends with more than a few wrestlers and backstage employees. He is a wrestling journalist and posts stories as they come and go, and reviews the shows and matches. He reacts accordingly based on how he feels the company is performing, and has no qualms calling out a wrestler or wrestlers for having a shit match, cutting a shit promo, or calling out the powers that be for making their fucking look like goddamn geeks.
|Skills |
» Smooth talking
» Tech savvy
» Dadskills
» Radio host-esque silky smooth voice
» Good at ranting
|Reason for being here |
» When he was younger, in 2001, Daniel Church had a brilliant idea in his school computers class: he’d build a fucking website. Now, the first thing you had to do when building a website, was pick something you were passionate about… at the time, Danny Church was only really passionate about one thing: PROFESSIONAL WRESTLING. Even at the young age of fifteen, DC had a brilliant mind for coding and built a website that was grand, even for the times. It gained a following, and the forums on it exploded in popularity as the tape traders and more hardcore fans finally found a place to talk and get their opinions out there.
The Smark Remark, the website is known as, and it’s only grown since its original inception in mid-2001. Danny made friends with the right people, and after high school, he passed the day-to-day management of the website over to a team of administrators and moderators. The man himself began a focus on the content creation for the website. He hosted podcasts with wrestlers from all over the world, and he began to rate matches.
Every show he saw, either live or on a tape he bought, he rated the match. Over time, his ratings and opinions got a little controversial, with people arguing about whether he was right or wrong, but he there was one thing they agreed on: he was consistent. He also wrote reports on rumors that he heard, and posted opinions and frequently participated in conversations on the message boards.
Four years after graduating, when Danny was 22, his then girlfriend, Clarissa Whitaker, gave birth to his two beautiful children. Twins, a boy and a girl. Robert and Cynthia, Bobby and Cyn. His babies and his life — other than work. They are turning ten in January of next year, and attend an online school to make it easier on Daniel to travel around for his job. They haven’t seen their mother since they were two; as it turns out, their mother was… crazy, to say the least. After Daniel discovered her drug habits and realized she was a poison in his life, he cut her out and got full custody of his children.
Since then, the single dad life has been the life for him. Working and taking care of two rascals isn’t exactly the easiest lot in life, but… he makes it work. When he was called up by Walter Durrel, who proposed combining their two mediums a few years ago, DC jumped on the opportunity. Together now, they put out podcasts reviewing AWE mostly, as that’s Walter’s preferred company. In return, Danny Church offers the Smark Remark’s website as a new home for the Wrestling Journal. They make a surprisingly good team so far.
|Looks & Style |
» Decked out from head to toe in wrestling gear, Danny doesn’t give a FUCK about how people think of him in public. He’s a hardworking single father, get bent. He’ll sometimes match or contradict his children when they go to the shows — both of his kids are huge fans too.
|Personality Traits |
» Danny is brutal and quick to be critical. He doesn’t listen to the reasons for things sucking and just accepts that they suck. If a wrestler isn’t working at their full capacity because of injuries? Whatever, stop fucking working. Utilize your roster, people.
He’s fun to talk to, and is good at telling stories and ranting and making other people who agree with him happy. He often gets into long winded debates on his podcast with Walter, but as a person Danny honestly looks forward to it every night.
Deep down, he’s just a mark, dude. He loves wrestling, everything about it from the ground up is amazing, and he can’t get enough. The fact that he built something great out of his love for wrestling amazes him to this day, and the Smark Remark is his baby. He enjoys posting on the message boards to this day, and recording the weekly podcasts is something he lovingly looks forward to every day.
It’s his second baby, the thing he loves most right behind his children.
|Favorite wrestler |
» Caiden goddamn fucking Winters, fuck you Roddy for burying the best wrestler to ever grace this goddamn planet. And Retribution. Excited for him to come, which I'M SURE HE'LL DO EVENTUALLY ONCE RODERICK QUINN PULLS HIS HEAD OUT OF HIS FUCKING ASS. Gethin's a personal favorite too, at least he gets used properly by those idiots.
And fuck you Drayden, I bet you encouraged that shit, didn’t you? Gotta GO OVER EVERYONE. Asshole. And of course, my fucking kid loves you so I have all that stupid merchandise in my fucking HOUSE.
Trinity’s cool too.
And Morgana.
What? I can’t hate the kids’s favorites, I’d be an asshole.
Except for Drayden. Fuck you. And fuck your stupid fat head wall stickers, now you’re stuck to the goddamn wall behind my FUCKING COUCH.
|Rep at AWE |
» Honestly, most people at the AWE don’t really like him. Daniel is loud, brash, and he doesn’t care about calling them out if they do something stupid. If you botch one goddamn move you better believe DC will roast the fuck out of you. You lose a match looking like a geek and hate it? Too goddamn bad, Danny Church knows full well you’re a NERD and you’ll never live it down.
But, he’s undeniably good at the job, and they actually take his ratings seriously. The few wrestlers that Danny fanboys about are quite fond of him, and he does a good podcast that wrestlers try to take advantage of. It can just be hard to deal with someone that’s going to call out every little mistake you make, even when it’s more blamed on the booking team than yourself.
He also has a tendency to post rumors about who’s going to win or lose a match, and rarely checks the validity of his source. Unlike his partner, Walter, Daniel Church is not a journalist. He’s angry millennial who thinks Roderick Quinn is ruining his goddamn favorite thing by blowing Drayden and giving him everything he asks for.
This doesn’t stop every member of the locker room from obsessively checking his reviews, though. Even Roddy does it.
|Other |
» 16a064
» Jensen Ackles. |
49,064 | 1,324 | 37 | 1,435 | 3,654 | Collab with
Though it hadn’t been entirely intentional, Caiden Everett hadn’t spoken to a single coworker during the Los Angeles show. He’d hidden in his private locker room, and watched the show. As soon as the main event aired, he was gone. Now, it was later in the night, the sun was setting behind his back, and he was relaxing in the hot tub, listening to music, playing from the bluetooth speaker nearby.
The song he was listening to was important to him. When he’d first started wrestling, More Human Than Human had been his original entrance theme, all those years ago. Back where he’d started wrestling, back in Quebec, things had been different than in the AWE. When you wrestled in high school gyms, and the backyard of the owner of the promotion… nobody cared if you used licensed music.
In the AWE, in front of thousands of people in attendance, and millions watching at home… well, things were slightly different. Even in Japan, he’d had to use other songs. He’d used the original track three times: his debut, his entrance to the climax of the yearly tournament (which he’d won), and then at the closing scene of the Japanese company’s biggest show of the year, as Caiden Winters held the title high above his head.
Nowadays, he came out to the song that had been prepared for him personally by the AWE in house group. Once upon a time, Caiden had dreamed that after a few years of proving that he could be the best here, just like he was the best everywhere else, they might buy the damn rights to the fucking song so he could use it again.
Now?
Now, that was a dream that was crushed under the simple realization that nobody in this stupid company saw anything in him, other than Wade Palmer. If it wasn’t for Wade, Caiden would probably still be the face of gaijins in Japanese wrestling, and one of the most booked international indie wrestlers in the world. But no, instead, he was treading water in the biggest company of the world — admittedly for the biggest paycheck he’d ever received in his life, but…
For Caiden, the direct deposit wasn’t all that mattered. The money was great, but he didn’t care about money. Honestly, he just wanted to be one of the greats, he wanted to be brought up in every debate about the greatest wrestlers of all time. But… that wasn’t going to be the case working here. He had to go, somewhere else. Anywhere else, really, just a place that appreciated him and let him be the best goddamn wrestler he could be — and he knew damn well that given the chance, he’d be the best in the world.
“More human, than human,” the man bobbed his head slowly to the music as it played. Closing his eyes and adjusting slightly, Caiden felt the water jets hit a muscle he hadn’t even known was sore. He let out a long breath, and sunk deeper into the water, until it covered his head. Solidarity, it was all he wanted. He was honestly amazed no one else was at the pool area, but hey. He’d take it.
Unfortunately for Caiden’s privacy, solitude, and peace, the moment he would rise back out of the water, there would be the sight of none other than Joy Ryder, his best friend’s sister, stripping. Sorta. The brunette, whose hair was wild and free, having undid her updo once AFTERSHOCK was over, was taking off her brother’s giant wrestling shirt from Japan, revealing her delicate, fair skin adorned with a simple floral bathing suit. She smiled to herself as she listened to the metal song play throughout the pool area. Joy didn’t have a sexy bod like her sister but she didn’t have a terrible physique either. She was happy with her size, actually. Her eyes, legs, and smile were her best features and as long as she liked what her mama gave her, who cares what anybody else thought!
Slowly but surely, Joy’s quarry came up out of the water. When he saw her, briefly his expression soured, before it went… blank, as he stared at her, wordlessly. Again? Why did she always do this? The last time, had been intentional, that much he knew for sure — but this time… maybe it was a coincidence? Either way, Caiden was going to attempt something new: stare at her in hopes that she walks away.
It was unfortunate… perhaps fortunate? That Joy was no liar. Even if she attempted to lie, she would fail horribly. Her poker face game was weak. So, once she was indeed done getting herself to the point where she was ready for the water, she turned to her bag and took out a fairly large bottle of White Zinfandel, a medium sweet wine, with a romantic, pink tint to it. Her favorite! She then proceeded to take out not one but two glasses out, that were wrapped in hand towels so they didn’t break… what? She had a LONG day. She needed it.
After having rested both glasses on the short table by the lounge chair, she turned around, her hair flying in the air with her quick movements, to meet her blue gaze with the wrestler’s stare, “Hi, Caiden. Mind if I join you? You know what, you won’t mind at all. I bought wine. Want some?” By the dead set expression on her face, Joy was not going to take no for an answer. Even if she was using more… aggressive tactics to spend time with him, she actually wanted to relax and go in the jacuzzi as well. She was planning on going here all day, it just so happens that Caiden was here too, which was a plus. Thank you, Trinity. Joy wouldn’t have known he was here, relaxing, in the jacuzzi, if it weren’t for her. Sister’s got her back (and Wade too, who probably found out the information for Trinity).
“You aren’t supposed to drink here, I’m pretty sure the sign says so.” Please go away.
Would Caiden never get his chance to brood in peace? This was the second night in a row that she’d interrupted him, and he had a feeling it wouldn’t be her last time bothering him. There was no solidarity to be found in his lifestyle, was there? Someone, somewhere, would always bother him. “Joy, I’m kind of having a bad night. I don’t know if you want to be around for this.”
Having poured him a glass anyways, though it might be too sweet for him, she stepped into the jacuzzi with him, nice and slow, since her body had to get use to the change in temperature. Placing his glass beside him on the edge, she sat arm’s length apart from Caiden and gave him a sincere look, that displayed care, kindness, and worry, “Want to talk about it?” Her voice was soft and warm.
“As for the sign, fuck it. I will drink because I deserve it.” A rare occasion where Joy actually cursed. Usually it only happened during casual cases once in a blue moon, never on screen.
Did Caiden want to talk about it? Not particularly. He didn’t much care for talking, he was a bit of a man of action, he liked to think. But, for now… he would talk. Maybe it’d make her leave him alone in the future. “I feel misused here, in the AWE. Wasted. Left to tread water. There’s no reason that I’m not in the center of everything that company does. Front and goddamn center where I belong. I’m the best this world has to offer, and it’s disrespectful and infuriating that they treat me like garbage. And why? Because I didn’t start in this company? Because Roddy Quinn didn’t handpick me? I’ve made up my mind, and I’m leaving this company as soon as my contract expires, and I’m never looking back. They don’t want me, but they need me — they won’t realize it until I’m gone. And they sure as hell don’t deserve me. I’ll work for a quarter of my pay for a company that’ll actually let me be what I already know I can be: a superstar.”
Joy was stunned for an instant. With her glass in hand, she never looked away from his irises. The hardened exterior that is Caiden Winters was broken down in front of her, just with the emotion in his eyes. Oh, and she had come to a realization that he too had blue eyes like her. Deeper though, and sharp like a dart, always hitting the target where it hurts. And yet… there was still passion. Pain. Anger. In this moment, she was starting to see Caiden beyond her ‘brother’s best friend’ and her ‘favorite wrestler’. For the first time, she was seeing the man behind the face, even if it was only a glimpse of who he was. Along with the pain, there was something solemn swimming in his eyes. Stunning and real.
Realizing she was quiet for longer than anticipated, Joy shook her head subtly to snap out of her daze and took a large gulp, or two, or three, of her wine. Habit. People say she’s a lightweight and shouldn’t drink like that, but she can’t help herself! It tasted like juice and was absolutely delicious.
“You’re leaving…” She quietly whispered. Her attention dropped from his face to the water. It was nice and heated, but hearing all this made it hard for her to enjoy it. Caiden wasn’t happy and Joy, who usually was quick on her feet and full of ideas, had no idea how to fix this. Well, first thing to do was, stop looking sad.
Smiling once more, she inched closer, “They’re idiots for not taking you seriously. And in the end, it’s their loss. You ARE a superstar and I have 100 percent faith that you’ll make it wherever you go.” Because she believed in him, more than she realized.
“You’re right, I will make it wherever I go. When I was in the indies, the only reason I’m even with the AWE, is because Wade Palmer convinced me that I was a big fish in a small pond, and in the AWE, I’d be able to shatter the glass ceiling that I had reached… well, the next time I’m in a small pond… I’m going to rebuild it with my bare hands until it’s the size of the ocean.” Caiden let out a long breath and shook his head. It wasn’t Wade’s fault — Wade support him in every way, and built him up as much as he could with the management, but the past booking team hadn’t saw anything in Caiden Winters, despite Wade telling them again and again that Caiden oozed the elusive ‘it’ factor. Caiden had hoped that the new booking team would help with that, but… he got one shot at the title, then eliminated round one from the tournament. It didn’t make sense to him.
Joy stood attentive to him while placing her glass down and grabbing the glass she made for him for herself; choosing to drink it because he didn’t seem like he was in the mood for wine (that's okay, more for her). Even with the underlining sadness to his expression and tone, she couldn’t help but smile. He was confidant and so sure of himself. She couldn’t agree more. One day he’ll be the biggest star out there and maybe, just maybe, she could share in that experience… with him. W-what? No, she didn’t like him! He was attractive, yes, but she didn’t like him. Her internal thoughts caused her cheeks to get one shade darker in red, having already been pink from the heat. After taking yet another gulp of wine, she nodded in accord, “I’m sure the writers have something planned for you! Give it time.” Her voice came to a halt, as she sighed to herself, thinking of the inevitable results if they didn’t have anything planned for him… Caiden leaving.
“Yeah, maybe we’ll see. You probably shouldn’t drink so much, y’know. You’re blushing for no apparent reason, which is a side effect of drinking.” Caiden explained, reaching a hand back and stopping the music from playing after the next song rolled on. “Thanks for listening, Joy, but my life here kinda isn’t what I thought it would be.” He said bluntly, shrugging his shoulders and looking down at the water.
However, the water was only in view for a short-while because Joy had brought her head under him so that he could see her and meet her gaze. Her gorgeous, blue eyes looking up at him, batting ever so playfully. She no longer had her wine glass in hand, her hands daringly rested on his chest, and in this moment, it was evident that Miss Joy was indeed a lightweight, “Your life here now has me.” She leaned in closer, her loving smile never wavering, “Let me make it better.”
Caiden could only think one thing:
The fuck? | I see you!
The best things in life are dangerous, like me.
5' ¾", 106 lbs - 5'8", 135 lbs
2 years Developmental, will debut soon with her husband
3 Years at AWE, 2 years at Developmental. 5 years total.
|Birth Name |
» Alice Jane Slayer (Kennedy)
» Ariel Michelle Slayer (Flanagan)
|Hails From |
» Atlanta, GA
» April 17 (26)
» October 22 (23)
|Backstage Rep |
» You got all these sweethearts dressed as bitches, guess what? Ari is a fucking bitch on and off the ring. She does not like you. It takes her a LONG time to accept you into her world because your flaws are blaring red and she fucking hates it. Some people do not get the concept of personal space. If she's doing her own thing, don't interrupt her. She enjoys dark humor, other people's drama, and crude people. Constantly observing her surroundings, she will size you up before you approach her. Ruthless. Entitled. & Impatient. She was never fond of dealing with people, which is honestly her biggest weakness on the ring. Charisma, that is. It isn't something that comes naturally to her like it does for her little sister.
As flawed as Ari is, those she does let in, like her husband, Michael Flanagan, know that she does mean well, but due to personal experiences, her built mechanism of verbally lashing out at people to protect her own, has gotten to a point where she can't really break it down over night. Ari is a tough cookie and audaciously bold. A risk taker, through and through. A primadonna is an understatement of her personality and Ari refuses to be considered less than. She aims to be in the big leagues, even if it means she might break a few bones...
You see, she and Michael were already dating prior to their debut at AWE, which was near the same time. It wasn't hard for him to gain attraction because even if he leans more on the timid side when he's out of character, he's a phenomenal heel and it shined through since day 1. Ari, however, spent her first two years figuring out her image. She was simply a blank canvas, a doll of a woman, and a temperamental wrestler, who fought well enough to get her to the mid card but required A LOT of polishing, as she tried her downright best to 'find herself' in the ring.
A year ago, Michael and her got married, and for a year, the writers have been pushing her more toward his storyline to enhance his biker boy look and guess what? It's working. People are starting to see the character behind the bitch. While Ajax is the tail gunner of his motorcycle gang, Fallen Angels, she is his queen. The Bonnie to his Clyde, who knows her way around her gun, or in this case the ring, and isn't afraid to use that to her advantage. She's a tough-talking, quick-shooting criminal and is growing to be a machine gun-blazing woman who you better not underestimate. Whenever she's threatened, she doesn't even flinch, she jumps right in and marks her territory. Fearless and it's all thanks to the writers pushing her more in the direction of the rebel girl archetype because it's something Ariel can actually relate to.
Fun fact: She isn't fond of motorcycles, but for love, she'll get on one.
» Amore hasn't debuted yet, but her face is known backstage because of her sister. The young, energetic valet aspires to be as influential as Jezebel (FC: Jessa Hinton), who was the Faceless' on-screen eye candy and eventual wife. Jezebel may have made the Faceless seem more humane, but Amore? She wants to do more than be an accessory for her love. Revolutionize the role of valets all over! At the root of it all, Alice is a business woman, who doesn't just want to 'accompany' her husband when she's on the ring with him. She wants to get heavily involved in the action inside, outside, within the audience-- ANYWHERE. A dreamer, the doll aims to earn the loudest pops of the night. Her beloved Benjamin tells her she has a niche and that is her charisma. Her stage presence. When Amore is in the spotlight, there is no doubt people will be starstruck.
Sneaky, cunning, and without hesitation, Amore will do absolutely anything for Mordecai to heighten his chances of winning. It helps that she has one sexy act that no one can top. Rated R, sexy-goodness. She acts like a child, but moves her body like a woman. Her influence is undeniable and even if wrestling isn't her top skill (it's singing and acting), she will go down in history!
As for backstage? A lovable, naive, playful and misleading young adult. Careless and foolish. Accidental prone when she isn't performing. Alice doesn't want to grow up, so she'll act far younger than she is. Oh, and she's scary possessive over her husband.
|Other |
» FCs: Kerli Kõiv & Jana
» 721728 & 324C83
|Fighting Style |
» Ari keeps you on your toes, you never know what to expect and has a passion for power. Known for her agility, high stunts, and her attitude, Ari, from the get go, set her sight on cleaning up the Divas division, showing that girls were more than accessories and tools. Even her sister, who does strut her body like it's nobody's business, isn't just that. A body. Amore is a character, whose insanity and giggles will be what the people remember. Psychotic little girl trapped in a woman's form.
Meanwhile, Ari has commitment to excellence and wants to be recognized as a professional wrestler, with Ajax by her side. Her goal: to be one of the most vicious Divas of her era. She doesn't even have to be one of the stars, she just wants to be scary. Although she isn't there yet, she will continue to work her ass off. Her current success is all thanks to her athleticism, hotheaded personality, impressive arsenal of offensive maneuvers, and her husband's biker persona.
Ari has countless ways of finishing her opponents and she will not give into status quo. A true queen of the rebels.
|Signature Moves |
» Highside (Diving Hurricanrana)
» Ari Bomb (Lita Bomb)
» Eating Asphalt (Swanton Bomb)
» Helmet Head (Hardiac Arrest)
|Finisher |
» Boneyard Moonsault (Moonsault)
» New Prime (Widow's Peak)
|Theme |
» Whatever she had before, doesn't matter. Now she has Superhuman to match Ajax.
|Gimmick |
» As said earlier in backstage rep, Ari is Ax's Bonnie to his Clyde. His ride or die. They have a fiery dynamic and shower each other with attention. They are motivated by chasing the danger, excitement, and action of wrestling. He's the gun, she's the trigger. If Ari isn't happy, Ajax is pissed. He might be the King of the Hill but without his queen, the high of living it dangerous 24/7 isn't as addicting. They're into each other in a visceral and physical way. There is a sense of co-dependency and downright bat-shit insanity between these two. Ariel even went out of her way to get 'His' tattoo on her lower back, to match Michael's "Hers" tattoo on his arm, to add to their act (when he wraps his arm around her, the audience would know - she belongs to him). A psychotic and possessive love story where their need for one another is absolutely dangerous for anyone, including each other.
Soon enough, the audience will learn crazy runs in the Slayer family because when Amore makes her debut, they'll see that the blonde is light years ahead in the insanity department.
As for fashion sense? Ari is a daredevil biker chick. Leather jacket with the Fallen Angels symbol, bustiers to showcase her stomach and her back (especially when her coat is off), leather boots, denim, the color scheme black and white, bandannas, anything really that makes her look like a total badass.
|Face or Heel |
» Heel
|Job at AWE |
» Amore will be a valet for Mordecai, who is her husband off screen.
|Skills |
» Persistent and high physical stamina
Charming and full of energy, Alice is an energetic doer, cheerful and extremely spontaneous. A true woman of action. Even if she doesn't seem it, she has strong observational skills and a keen sense to other people's feelings. Quite the problem solver, regardless of her outlandish methods. This spirited blonde would like to think she's an excellent diplomat and negotiator, especially when it comes to her pitching ideas. By nature, she's too open and direct to deliberately manipulate someone (lies and manipulation is foreign to her, unless it's for an act), but she will fight her cause until there isn't any fight left in her.
» Improviser
Perceptive, witty, and clever. Rarely missing anything that is important, because she approaches everything with curiosity and interest, Alice will take impossible situations and make 'em great. Her memory for details and facts are impressive. She absorbs everything that interests her like a sponge, storing it in her noggin for later use.
» Dancing, acting, and gymnastic experience.
Pretty point blank, Alice kept her family busy by getting them to sign her up to as much as possible so she can get better at... life. Also, with such a busy schedule when she was younger, she didn't need to be home, which was a far more pleasant option than dealing with the turmoil. Her home life drew her insane. Convincing her parents to get her involved in the community was the easy part, making them part of it, her life, though? Not so much.
» Odd & blessed with boundless creativity
Alice has always been a little weirdo. Too much individuality for one girl. And yet, she doesn't know how to be any different. Sure, some of her creative ideas are concerning and creepy, but why should she limit herself? If her mind wants to run rampant, it should! Being different isn't a bad thing and Alice will never change for anyone.
|Looks & Style |
» Inspired by her aunt, who led a broken family with dignity and grace, Amore strives to be a visual masterpiece. Her aunt was a woman who carried whatever she wore like a queen. A queen who had an undeniable ability to live a life of pure kindness. Alice's goal, no matter where she is, or if she's being Amore or not, is to make her image timeless. Definitive and iconic, to where it is her trademark. Her look. A look that pushes boundaries and continues to evolve. Alice wants to be a trend setter, a walking fashion statement, and when people look at their television screen or see her on the ring, she wants them to recognize her immediately and maybe, just maybe, follow her as an example. If she can aspire others to walk with an air of confidence, loving who they were, while also not being afraid to explore out of the box, then her life would be more than fulfilled.
What more could you ask for? She's happily married, she has endless projects that make her smile, she's about to start the career of her life that will hopefully set her on a remarkable path of happiness and success, and if she's able to move someone or an entire audience in ways not many people can, then she can say she is more than satisfied with the life she's been given.
Hardships aside. Alice is a happy girl.
|Personality Traits |
» Visionary → Imaginative → Fun-Loving → Gregarious → Persistent → Dutiful (even if she is unbeknownst to the fact that she's a tease) → Exuberant → Trusting → Picky → Dependent → Reckless → Fearful (primarily of her husband leaving her)
|Favorite wrestler |
» She's biased. Her husband, even if he hasn't made his mark yet. Alice will make it known that he's HER favorite. |
49,065 | 1,324 | 38 | 2,173 | 2,273 | Collab with
Some call it professional wrestling, others call it sports entertainment, but no matter what you know it by, it’s left an unfading mark on popular culture. Famous faces like Wally Norton, Blaze Pierson, hell, even his father, Heath Ryder, The Ghost Ryder, have become household names. Part of that is thanks to people like Chance, who make men like his father look like titans. As a kid, watching the viewing screen backstage with his mother, the biggest appeal that resonated in his mind was the larger-than-life, big ass dudes that yelled funny, and at times, hella’ intimidating shit to their opponents.
Growing up though, while the wrestlers polished their acts, Chance came to appreciate the business and marketing of it all. He was no digital marketer, but he did know how to make an effective visual presentation. Keyword: effective. His job usually involved listening to Beatrice and giving her exactly what she wanted, which was one hell of a show. It was hard to explain his knowledge of cinematography, because it wasn’t something many people could get their head wrapped around without years of study. It wasn’t as easy as pointing a camera at the product and hoping for the best. There must be strategy, there couldn’t be assumptions on who your audience was, and there had to be short-form content, or you’d risk losing a fan’s attention in a split second.
But you know what the biggest thing was?
You had to be prepared. Prepared to catch the moments, even the unexpected. Constantly watching the talent and never being one step behind, always one step ahead. The moments. The stories. The talent. That’s what the fans wanted to see. The strategy helped keep it tight, but Chance helped make it right. AWE needed people like him, because without them, who would be able to see… any of it?
Unlike the most recent shows, Chance was not surrounded by a film crew, nor was he in the backstage set, the area with the backdrop of AWE that was specifically meant for interviews. Since he was outside taking a smoke, he had already passed the tv trucks, the photoshoot room, the makeup chair, and the set for AFTERSHOCK, until he was united with his twin just in time for Barbie’s interview, just outside of the star’s dressing room. With efficient speed and nonchalant ease, he grabbed his powerpack and put it on, then he set the camera on his shoulder, looking through the viewfinder at his sister’s face.
“Chance! You’re late. I can’t believe you decided NOW was a good time to--”
“Speeding.” Chance widely yawned. Man, she always freaked out for no good reason. She was used to this by now and was always ready when Beatrice gave them the cue.
“And we’re live in five, four, three…” Yep, there it is.
As if moments ago she wasn’t flipping her marbles, Joy held her mic up to her lips and smiled at the camera, “After hearing so much talk about her in LA and Chicago, I thought it was about time for us to hear a few words from Barbie Summers herself.” Turning her body to face the door, but keeping it angled so Chance could still see her face, Joy brought her free hand up and gently knocked on the door.
As glitzy and glamorous as the star herself, the dressing room door was decked out sparkling decor. Pink, so much pink. At the center of it hung a plaque that looked like a movie director’s clapperboard, with Barbie’s name chalked in neat, elegant script. Said door swung open to reveal the devastatingly gorgeous blonde wrestler. Her hair hung in big, loose, sensual curls that reached past her shoulders and almost to her elbows. She pushed her crystal-rimmed Gucci sunglasses carefully up her forehead and atop her crown of golden locks.
She sighed dramatically upon seeing the guest at her door, playing up the “I can’t be bothered by this paparazzi” celebrity vibe that her character was written to have these days. Barbie rolled her eyes, the lids of which sported an amount of shimmering silver and pink shadow that seemed more fit for RuPaul’s Drag Race than any AWE event. Everything about Barbie Summers dripped ‘extra’, and it was meant to. Barbie is extra, more extra than anyone else will ever be, and they needed to be reminded that every day. “What is it, Joy? You’re interrupting me heading out for a walk.”
Crinkling her nose, Joy sweetly apologized, “I know how busy you are, and I’m sorry for intervening with your… busy schedule, but I just need to ask you.” and in with the hard hitting question she went, “Last week you were called out by not only one wrestler, but two. Sydney Ellis called you a coward and Morgana basically threw your words back at you and insinuated that you, Barbie Summers, are a hypocrite. As we all know, she believes you are Drayden’s shadow and could not make it out in this business without him. What are your thoughts? There seems to be a lot of heat heading in your direction.”
“First off, who even is this Sydney?” Barbara asked, flipping a curl over her shoulder gracefully and ignoring any attempt that Joy might have at responding to said question. “Secondly, I am no hypocrite. Barbie Summers stands in no one’s shadow. No man, no woman, nor deity, is on my level. I’m a star, darling, I light up the entire night sky. There is no place for shadows when you shine as bright as I do. As for Morgana, the poor thing is just jealous. Her dark heart doesn’t have any room to spare for love, isn’t that sad? She’s just a girl lashing out at a happy couple, all because she is forever alone.” The blonde didn’t even look slightest bit sad at her words, nor did she look like she regretted any of them. Instead, she wore a matter-of-fact, smug grin as she looked passed Joy, and into the camera lens.
“I don’t mind the heat, that’s what it means to stand in the light. And isn’t my tan looking great these days?” Barbie extended her right arm to display the golden glow that she spoke of to Joy, turning her attention back to the interviewer now. “Is that all?”
Joy internally was impressed. The amount of cockiness and pride that Barbie Summers had was absolutely fantastic. Standing here, inches away, Joy was enthralled. She could only imagine what the audience would think. “No actually, it isn’t.” Joy took a step closer and locked her gaze with her interviewee. This is what the audience truly wanted to hear. “Will you fight?” Her question filled the air with heavy connotations behind it, before she added, “Today, Sydney Ellis and Morgana will go at it, to ultimately get to you. And I will quote Sydney Ellis’ words, for verbatim, Barbie Summers can not and will not fight me. Is this going to be the case or…?” Joy intentionally trailed off to get Barbara a chance to chime in.
“I don’t know who this nobody thinks she is, but sure, I’m willing to put anybody and everyone in their place. Is this… is this GI Jane? The one who wasn’t even worth Morgana’s time?” Barbara acted out the false realization immaculately, and then laughed a tinkling bell of a laugh. Placing a hand to her voluptuous chest, she caught her breath in a sigh. “Oh, this is bound to be good. You can tell her this, verbatim: Come at me, honey, and I’ll have you seeing stars, just like the rest of the peasants below me.”
The glammed up dressing room door was suddenly blocking Joy’s view, as Barbie slammed it in the interviewer’s face to punctuate her final statement. The queen hath spoken. | what if I slept my way to the top? I’m on top, aren’t I?”
5’ 9 - 190 lb | 5 Years
|Birth Name |
» Barbara Rose Somerville
|Hails From |
» Baton Rouge, Louisiana
» November 11, 1993 (23)
|Fighting Style |
» Ruthless in the ring, Barbie uses her loud mouth just as much as her strong body to break down her opponents. The bodacious blonde has been using her sharp words to cut up divas since long before she made it big in AWE. Barbie knows that once a mind is broken, the body follows soon after. A strong background in gymnastics and technical wrestling from a young age ensure that Barbie has the strength and skill needed to back up all the shit she talks - both in, and out of the ring - and she certainly talks a lot of it. Unlike the weight that her skinny namesake suggests, Barbie is thick with toned muscle and, despite the extra pounds that she carries, most of her ring time is spent in the air - whether that be jumping off the ropes, doing flips, and hip attacking opponents with one of her most powerful assets. When not exercising her more aerial talents, Barbie is keen on wearing down her foes' limbs through a couple of signature submissions.
|Signature Moves |
» Full Moon
» Rewind the Clip
» Legally Blonde {Pronounced: ‘Leg-uh-lee’ blonde}
» The Pole Dancer
|Finisher |
» Aerial Rear View {ARV}
» Seeing Stars
|Theme |
» “Baby go ahead
I'll be the villain you can blame
I'll be the belle of the brawl
Be the lust in us all
I'm the diva of the damned”
|Gimmick |
» Barbie struts to the ring dressed in practically painted on pink and purple - and often sparkly - outfits. A careful, modelesque stride, paired with a scantily clad wardrobe and a hypersexualized theme song, make Barbie’s entire entrance seem like one long strip tease. She keeps her clothes on, of course, this is a televised sport… but that doesn’t make it any less obscene. The blonde acts like a superstar on a stage, and the only thing bigger than Barbie Summers’ ass, is her ego. A lot of people claim that she slept her way up the ladder and, to a certain extent, she did; the managers, and Barbie herself, dial up the drama on these claims, and make a spectacle of it. Prone to witty retort and petty cat fights in the ring, with a strong skillset to back it up, Barbie truly is a belle of the brawl, and the reigning queen of the divas. Much like her beloved boyfriend, Barbie walks as if the ground she walks upon should be kissed - because it should, she’s the best around!
|Face or Heel |
» She may be a heel, but she is the highest of heels - a dangerous beauty that people love to hate. The crowd often chants insults along the lines of “You-suck-Drayden!”, to which Barbie always has a new, sarcastically flirtatious response. She blows kisses at her haters, and feeds off of their negative energy… there is a fine line between between such polarized emotions, after all.
|Backstage Rep |
» While Barbie Summers, the wrestling diva, is a super bitch, through and through; Barbara Somerville, the woman, has a much softer heart. Not all of her gimmick is an act, it is more like an intense exaggeration of her true personality than a complete falsehood. Raised the only girl of a litter of children, Barbie was doted on and spoiled as a child. She grew up looking to her older brothers for approval; They were huge fans of AWE, and this fandom naturally spread onto her. Despite the low funds available in her trailer park-dwelling, fatherless, bayou upbringing, Barbie was able to join gymnastics as a talent and participated in many beauty pageants - all-the-while keeping her tomboyish love of wrestling. The combination of her blonde-haired, blue eyed beauty, charismatic stage presence, athletic physique, and long time love of the sport made Barbie a perfect fit to become a wrestler when the company passed through New Orleans, scouting talent. Barbie was 18 when the opportunity to join AWE arose, and she risked it all in order seize it.
Barbie started off as a jobber - athletic, but a novice that was often booked to lose matches and build up other stars in the show. Barbie had bigger dreams than that... celebrity-status dreams. It wasn’t until last year - around the time that she started hooking up with Drayden - that Barbie Summers’ name became a household one. She ripped through the ranks until she could hold a crown all her own, beside her king. Talent isn’t totally sexually transmitted, of course. Barbie has actually been good enough to defend her championship title through quite a few major match ups. That being said, she values hard work and ambition above everything, and supports the underdogs in their own fight to the top - she was once in their place, and she crawled from even lower places than many of them. While her inherent pride makes her unwilling to easily give up the title, if it were to go to someone worthy, like Trinity - her biggest ring rival, but good friend backstage - Barbie could manage to accept that defeat.
|Other |
» While becoming the AWE’s women’s wrestling champion has been a dream come true, Barbara’s biggest dream is to make it big in Hollywood and become a true a-lister, as an actress.
» Barbara is a bookworm - she loves reading and is often seen with a book in hand or close by her side backstage. When she is working out, which she does a lot, audio books are much preferred over music. Steamy romance novels are a particularly guilty pleasure of hers, but stories of all varieties fascinate and enthrall!
» Understands and can speak french, more specifically the broken creole language that is spoken around the backwoods just outside Baton Rouge that she grew up in. And, yes, she does speak with a thick Louisiana-brand accent.
» FC: Iskra Lawrence |
49,066 | 1,324 | 39 | 1,435 | 3,654 | Collab with:
Barbara sat curled up in her favorite fleece blanket on a pillowy couch in Claire’s hotel room. The fuzzy covering depicted Belle - the best of all Disney Princesses, as labeled by Barbie, for her love of reading. Beauty and brains is the best combination, aside from having all three: beauty, brains, and brawn, Only the most top tier of people possessed all three, and one such individual was waiting on her friend Claire to return with a bucket of ice.
The girls had prepared almost everything in their planning of this impromptu slumber party. They had popcorn, fried chicken, movie-theater style candies, a bottle of rosé, clean wine glasses… all that they needed now was some ice, and the festivities could begin. With a clicker in hand (her word for a remote), Barbie scanned through the guide of pay per view movies on the hotel’s cable network. There were a few new releases, and contenders for tonight's movie showings, namely, Captain America: Civil War, Finding Dory, and Mike and Dave Need Wedding Dates. They were three completely different films, which made making a decision on just one of them a little bit weird. Hell, maybe they should just get drunk and watch all three! Barbara was depressed, she could be into that right now.
A soft knocking on the door drew Barbara’s attention. The blonde pulled her blue eyes from the TV screen - which was showing a preview of the new live action Tarzan movie at present - and looked to the door. Who could be knocking? Maybe it was Claire, and her hands were too full to deal with using the keycard. Barbara pulled her blanket off to the side and stood up to answer the knocks. For whatever reason, she opened the door without looking through the peephole, even though this wasn’t her hotel room.
On the other side of the now-open door, was the absolute last person that Barbara expected or wanted to see standing before her. Having let go of all of her acting abilities and wrestling persona, as this was meant to be a night of relaxation, Barbie’s emotions showed true on her face. Unamused. In-character acting or not, Barbara was put in a mood by the words in Morgana’s promo earlier today. The girl who stood before her was Mileena, not Morgana, Barbara wasn’t petty or stupid, she knew that there was usually a difference. In this case, however, the difference wasn’t easy to distinguish, as Mileena is all but mute backstage. As such, Barbie’s lips only parted from tight, thin line that they had formed, long enough to speak one quick phrase.
“Claire stepped out for ice.” That was it. Terse and to the point, verging on rude. No long, drawn out southern ”Hiiiii sweetie” greeting, as she used with many of the other wrestlers, especially the particularly adorable ladies, like Trinity. Barbara was an emotional, moody mess right now, and she was acting like it. Who cares anyway? She was done impressing people, done pretending, at least for the day. It was her week off and working for AWE was exhausting, especially being at the top of the card. Of course, the fame and fortune was awesome, and the achievement meant the world to Barbara, but having the title shouldn’t mean that she couldn’t have a cozy movie night to eat her feelings at without having drama literally knock on her door. Claire’s door. Whatever…
Ah. Everything made sense now. Claire deliberately went out of her way to pester Mileena for the past week so that they could spend time together, using the excuse: My pudding pie is always so busy. I’M LONELY! HALP. And because she wasn’t completely shallow and she actually liked how Claire constantly tried to be an important person in her life and everyone’s life for that matter.
With a deadpan stare, the usual goth dreamboat silently watched the blonde, who was most definitely PMSing. Her pink hair was in two french braids, her makeup was a lot lighter than her stage act would have it, and she wore an elegant, floral pajama outfit (a silk tank and shorts), with a cream sweater. There wasn’t as much black as people were use to seeing on her.
Crossing her arms closed the sweater to give her warmth, but also shyly hid her pajamas from the person she did not expect, as Mileena simply nodded in reply and entered the room. Not really knowing if she should ask Barbara’s permission or not to enter Claire’s room.
Barbara watched wordlessly as Mileena walked passed her and into the hotel room. Did she just? Claire… Claire, that little shit, she planned this all along! Well, Barbie wasn’t about to be the dramatic one. Life was too short, she’d just eat more fried chicken if this got uncomfortable. At least then something good would come of the evening, she can’t remember the last time she indulged in such a sinful snack.
After a moment of awkward silence, while Mileena sat herself on Claire’s king bed, the goth wrestler looked around the room to see all that was provided. If she didn’t go out with JP, she could’ve brought something too. Rubbing her thumb against her other thumb, a subtle tick she had when anxious, she glanced up at the other guest, who on screen she had a major feud with. She didn’t really know how to start a conversation with this woman. They never really talked. How long was Claire going to take?
A heavy sigh escaped her lips, as Mileena attempted to strike a conversation with this girl, someone she didn’t necessarily understand and neither did her stage act, “Finding Dory is a cute movie.”
The blonde, who was also wearing her pajamas, looked over to Mileena warily. She’d just said that something was cute, and it didn’t sound sarcastic. This was… a good sign? “I haven’t watched it yet, it’s on the list of options. Dory, the new Captain America, or that newish romantic comedy. Wedding Dates something or other, with that cutie from High School Musical… Zac Efron.” Barbara’s Louisiana bayou accent was thick in a casual setting such as this, making her words sound slow and slurred. The copious amounts of wine that she was about to consume probably wouldn’t help in making her more understandable, either.
“Call it my guilty pleasure, but animation film is my preferred film genre.” While Barbara’s voice had more of an accent, Mileena’s voice was lower than usual by ten notches. “Claire, however, will probably want to watch Wedding Dates. Since, well, one, Zac Efron, and two, weddings.” Shrugging at the options, a-ok with watching whatever, she looked over at the rosé, “May I?” The pink haired woman gestured toward the wine. This may have been a weird situation, but Mileena wasn’t going to let it bother her. Claire wanted them to talk, so she would, even if it took… a little time to get her to open up.
Animated movies, she would never have picked that as Mileena’s favorite, not in a million years. She tucked the Beauty and the Beast blanket around herself at that point, realizing that she might have more in common with this girl than she had expected. Barbie followed Mileena’s gaze to the wine. “Oh, yeah, go ahead. Might be a little warm, we were about to uncork it ourselves when we realized that we needed ice. Claire... should be back by now.” The southerner loosened up enough to roll her eyes and laugh slightly “I think she might have intentionally found herself lost” She said the last word with finger quotes and chuckled again. Never trust a hairdresser, they’re meddlers.
After taking a hushed moment to unscrew the wine bottle, Mileena poured both her and her coworker a glass and quoted the assorted villains from Scooby Doo, watching the liquid pour smoothly into the fine, glasses (that honestly was probably Claire’s ‘special’ glasses that Kevin bought her), “...and I would have gotten away with it, too, if it wasn’t for you meddling--” She paused to bring the bottle upright and looked at the door, that still had no Claire barging in, “Kids.” Once she was done placing the bottle down, she grabbed both glasses, stood up, and approached Barbara, offering her the warm wine. Who knows how long they were going to wait? Wine would help.
It was, however, time to truly break the ice. “It’s funny… how long wrestling has been in our culture. By history, by myth, by country. One of my personal favorite mythos is based on Zeus’ rise as ruler of the earth, after he wrestled his father, Cronus. It’s always been here and yet… AWE has made wrestling relatable. And made us, near immortal.”
“In a sense, if only we had their true immortality. Being a household name is more than I could have ever imagined for myself, but it’d be even better if we could do all of this without the risk of injury.” Wrestling might be staged entertainment, but it was still dangerous. William was a prime case of the brutal injuries that a frequent big-name wrestler could sustain, and other legends have even died in the sport.
“I grew up watching wrestling with my two older brothers. I think the first thing that I noticed about it was how much it captured them. The power of the stars, to enthrall a couple of boys through a screen, people that they had never even met. It was like witnessing magick. Couldn’t help but fall in love with it myself, and the art of acting as a whole. I wanted to learn how to cast spells too, and influence the little girls of the nation, as well as the boys. Everyone needs heroes to look up to.” Barbara sipped at the glass of wine that she was offered. Warm or not, it was still her favorite brand, and delicious as ever. “Mmm, wonderful,” she remarked with closed eyes, wiggling her toes beneath the blankie in enjoyment.
Already half way through her glass, Mileena timidly nodded before giving an equal lengthy reply, which did not happen backstage, “I grew up… only knowing bits and pieces of my father that you know as Spencer Deschain, The Faceless, the embodiment of what the monster trope could only aspire to be. My mom beats to her own drum and when she wasn’t involved in the cutthroat business that is fashion, she was hoping to get one of her three daughters to be the perfect… princess type, I suppose. Failed twice. Third time was a charmer. I spent most of my childhood finding out about my father until I knew exactly who he was and as such, I went to look for him. And then I aspired to be like him.” Finishing her glass, realizing she might be getting too personal, she went to pour herself more…
Meanwhile, outside leaning on the door, Claire listened in on the conversation of her girlfriends, while aiming her phone camera toward her face. Biting her finger playful, she batted her eyes at the lens and then snapped the picture with loving intent. Without placing a filter on it, she wrote the caption: Thinking of you ;) to her baby. SHE HADN’T SEEN HIM IN FOREVER. She was repressed. Depressed. But ultimately, completely blessed. He was good to her and she loved him more than she could love anyone in this whole wide world.
The response was quick, Kevin always had his ring tone on for her. The picture he sent was a simple one, of an empty box of pizza on his bed, with his laptop open in front of him. The caption was pretty simple too: I’m doneeeee. We can do stuff tomorrow, cuz I just finished with all my shit for the next few weeks!
The response brightened Claire’s mood almost instantaneously. He was done! That meant they could have fun. Oh man. She’d have to ask the girls for help. One more snap, then she would enter her room. This one was cute and full of heartfelt love. She blew a kiss at the camera and mouthed goodnight, I love you.
The caption this time said: I have a doll and a witch in my room. 2 blondes and a goth. Hot. I know. ;D Everyone thought Claire and Kevin were completely vanilla and she was okay with that. It made their game more worth playing.
With that, she brought her phone down (she didn’t even have a bucket of ice) and she happily barged into her room, “Guysssssss.” She adorably announced. “Help me surprise my sailor.
Once she was done tossing her phone on her bed, she clapped her hands together and grinned, “...now that we’re all friends.” | I see you!
The best things in life are dangerous, like me.
5' ¾", 106 lbs - 5'8", 135 lbs
2 years Developmental, will debut soon with her husband
3 Years at AWE, 2 years at Developmental. 5 years total.
|Birth Name |
» Alice Jane Slayer (Kennedy)
» Ariel Michelle Slayer (Flanagan)
|Hails From |
» Atlanta, GA
» April 17 (26)
» October 22 (23)
|Backstage Rep |
» You got all these sweethearts dressed as bitches, guess what? Ari is a fucking bitch on and off the ring. She does not like you. It takes her a LONG time to accept you into her world because your flaws are blaring red and she fucking hates it. Some people do not get the concept of personal space. If she's doing her own thing, don't interrupt her. She enjoys dark humor, other people's drama, and crude people. Constantly observing her surroundings, she will size you up before you approach her. Ruthless. Entitled. & Impatient. She was never fond of dealing with people, which is honestly her biggest weakness on the ring. Charisma, that is. It isn't something that comes naturally to her like it does for her little sister.
As flawed as Ari is, those she does let in, like her husband, Michael Flanagan, know that she does mean well, but due to personal experiences, her built mechanism of verbally lashing out at people to protect her own, has gotten to a point where she can't really break it down over night. Ari is a tough cookie and audaciously bold. A risk taker, through and through. A primadonna is an understatement of her personality and Ari refuses to be considered less than. She aims to be in the big leagues, even if it means she might break a few bones...
You see, she and Michael were already dating prior to their debut at AWE, which was near the same time. It wasn't hard for him to gain attraction because even if he leans more on the timid side when he's out of character, he's a phenomenal heel and it shined through since day 1. Ari, however, spent her first two years figuring out her image. She was simply a blank canvas, a doll of a woman, and a temperamental wrestler, who fought well enough to get her to the mid card but required A LOT of polishing, as she tried her downright best to 'find herself' in the ring.
A year ago, Michael and her got married, and for a year, the writers have been pushing her more toward his storyline to enhance his biker boy look and guess what? It's working. People are starting to see the character behind the bitch. While Ajax is the tail gunner of his motorcycle gang, Fallen Angels, she is his queen. The Bonnie to his Clyde, who knows her way around her gun, or in this case the ring, and isn't afraid to use that to her advantage. She's a tough-talking, quick-shooting criminal and is growing to be a machine gun-blazing woman who you better not underestimate. Whenever she's threatened, she doesn't even flinch, she jumps right in and marks her territory. Fearless and it's all thanks to the writers pushing her more in the direction of the rebel girl archetype because it's something Ariel can actually relate to.
Fun fact: She isn't fond of motorcycles, but for love, she'll get on one.
» Amore hasn't debuted yet, but her face is known backstage because of her sister. The young, energetic valet aspires to be as influential as Jezebel (FC: Jessa Hinton), who was the Faceless' on-screen eye candy and eventual wife. Jezebel may have made the Faceless seem more humane, but Amore? She wants to do more than be an accessory for her love. Revolutionize the role of valets all over! At the root of it all, Alice is a business woman, who doesn't just want to 'accompany' her husband when she's on the ring with him. She wants to get heavily involved in the action inside, outside, within the audience-- ANYWHERE. A dreamer, the doll aims to earn the loudest pops of the night. Her beloved Benjamin tells her she has a niche and that is her charisma. Her stage presence. When Amore is in the spotlight, there is no doubt people will be starstruck.
Sneaky, cunning, and without hesitation, Amore will do absolutely anything for Mordecai to heighten his chances of winning. It helps that she has one sexy act that no one can top. Rated R, sexy-goodness. She acts like a child, but moves her body like a woman. Her influence is undeniable and even if wrestling isn't her top skill (it's singing and acting), she will go down in history!
As for backstage? A lovable, naive, playful and misleading young adult. Careless and foolish. Accidental prone when she isn't performing. Alice doesn't want to grow up, so she'll act far younger than she is. Oh, and she's scary possessive over her husband.
|Other |
» FCs: Kerli Kõiv & Jana
» 721728 & 324C83
|Fighting Style |
» Ari keeps you on your toes, you never know what to expect and has a passion for power. Known for her agility, high stunts, and her attitude, Ari, from the get go, set her sight on cleaning up the Divas division, showing that girls were more than accessories and tools. Even her sister, who does strut her body like it's nobody's business, isn't just that. A body. Amore is a character, whose insanity and giggles will be what the people remember. Psychotic little girl trapped in a woman's form.
Meanwhile, Ari has commitment to excellence and wants to be recognized as a professional wrestler, with Ajax by her side. Her goal: to be one of the most vicious Divas of her era. She doesn't even have to be one of the stars, she just wants to be scary. Although she isn't there yet, she will continue to work her ass off. Her current success is all thanks to her athleticism, hotheaded personality, impressive arsenal of offensive maneuvers, and her husband's biker persona.
Ari has countless ways of finishing her opponents and she will not give into status quo. A true queen of the rebels.
|Signature Moves |
» Highside (Diving Hurricanrana)
» Ari Bomb (Lita Bomb)
» Eating Asphalt (Swanton Bomb)
» Helmet Head (Hardiac Arrest)
|Finisher |
» Boneyard Moonsault (Moonsault)
» New Prime (Widow's Peak)
|Theme |
» Whatever she had before, doesn't matter. Now she has Superhuman to match Ajax.
|Gimmick |
» As said earlier in backstage rep, Ari is Ax's Bonnie to his Clyde. His ride or die. They have a fiery dynamic and shower each other with attention. They are motivated by chasing the danger, excitement, and action of wrestling. He's the gun, she's the trigger. If Ari isn't happy, Ajax is pissed. He might be the King of the Hill but without his queen, the high of living it dangerous 24/7 isn't as addicting. They're into each other in a visceral and physical way. There is a sense of co-dependency and downright bat-shit insanity between these two. Ariel even went out of her way to get 'His' tattoo on her lower back, to match Michael's "Hers" tattoo on his arm, to add to their act (when he wraps his arm around her, the audience would know - she belongs to him). A psychotic and possessive love story where their need for one another is absolutely dangerous for anyone, including each other.
Soon enough, the audience will learn crazy runs in the Slayer family because when Amore makes her debut, they'll see that the blonde is light years ahead in the insanity department.
As for fashion sense? Ari is a daredevil biker chick. Leather jacket with the Fallen Angels symbol, bustiers to showcase her stomach and her back (especially when her coat is off), leather boots, denim, the color scheme black and white, bandannas, anything really that makes her look like a total badass.
|Face or Heel |
» Heel
|Job at AWE |
» Amore will be a valet for Mordecai, who is her husband off screen.
|Skills |
» Persistent and high physical stamina
Charming and full of energy, Alice is an energetic doer, cheerful and extremely spontaneous. A true woman of action. Even if she doesn't seem it, she has strong observational skills and a keen sense to other people's feelings. Quite the problem solver, regardless of her outlandish methods. This spirited blonde would like to think she's an excellent diplomat and negotiator, especially when it comes to her pitching ideas. By nature, she's too open and direct to deliberately manipulate someone (lies and manipulation is foreign to her, unless it's for an act), but she will fight her cause until there isn't any fight left in her.
» Improviser
Perceptive, witty, and clever. Rarely missing anything that is important, because she approaches everything with curiosity and interest, Alice will take impossible situations and make 'em great. Her memory for details and facts are impressive. She absorbs everything that interests her like a sponge, storing it in her noggin for later use.
» Dancing, acting, and gymnastic experience.
Pretty point blank, Alice kept her family busy by getting them to sign her up to as much as possible so she can get better at... life. Also, with such a busy schedule when she was younger, she didn't need to be home, which was a far more pleasant option than dealing with the turmoil. Her home life drew her insane. Convincing her parents to get her involved in the community was the easy part, making them part of it, her life, though? Not so much.
» Odd & blessed with boundless creativity
Alice has always been a little weirdo. Too much individuality for one girl. And yet, she doesn't know how to be any different. Sure, some of her creative ideas are concerning and creepy, but why should she limit herself? If her mind wants to run rampant, it should! Being different isn't a bad thing and Alice will never change for anyone.
|Looks & Style |
» Inspired by her aunt, who led a broken family with dignity and grace, Amore strives to be a visual masterpiece. Her aunt was a woman who carried whatever she wore like a queen. A queen who had an undeniable ability to live a life of pure kindness. Alice's goal, no matter where she is, or if she's being Amore or not, is to make her image timeless. Definitive and iconic, to where it is her trademark. Her look. A look that pushes boundaries and continues to evolve. Alice wants to be a trend setter, a walking fashion statement, and when people look at their television screen or see her on the ring, she wants them to recognize her immediately and maybe, just maybe, follow her as an example. If she can aspire others to walk with an air of confidence, loving who they were, while also not being afraid to explore out of the box, then her life would be more than fulfilled.
What more could you ask for? She's happily married, she has endless projects that make her smile, she's about to start the career of her life that will hopefully set her on a remarkable path of happiness and success, and if she's able to move someone or an entire audience in ways not many people can, then she can say she is more than satisfied with the life she's been given.
Hardships aside. Alice is a happy girl.
|Personality Traits |
» Visionary → Imaginative → Fun-Loving → Gregarious → Persistent → Dutiful (even if she is unbeknownst to the fact that she's a tease) → Exuberant → Trusting → Picky → Dependent → Reckless → Fearful (primarily of her husband leaving her)
|Favorite wrestler |
» She's biased. Her husband, even if he hasn't made his mark yet. Alice will make it known that he's HER favorite. |
49,067 | 1,324 | 40 | 1,435 | 3,654 | Location: The game changing place. A viewing room with the most beautiful creature in it.
Interacting with: Mileena
JP had spent much of the evening chasing down Caiden Winters. Trying to find that man was like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands (maybe he needed to stop watching Harry Potter?). The booking lads had caught up with him in the end and laid out there well throughout midnight, red bull and pizza infused plans to the future world champion. With the time left over, the boys could now enjoy the show they had written. JP was grooving around the place in his usual energetic and slightly out of sync mood. Today’s music of choice in John Paul’s ever present earphones was TV and Movie Themes, specifically in this moment, the mad scientist of AWE’s writing team was hamming it up to the original heavy version of the Mighty Morphin’ Power Rangers theme.
Attire for the day? Simple and to the point. JP had dressed himself in basic blue jeans and the latest in AWE merchandise: the new Hector shirt. It was so new that it wasn’t even off the shelves yet. He had actually stolen it from the merchandise table with the swift bit of bop and bang chicanery. Kansas City shuffle bitch! It was quite tight fitting but that was simply because John Paul kept himself in great shape. It was somewhat a shame that he could jump in the ring himself, he might have a decent run in him.
Rocking through the halls, JP recorded his thoughts into his tape recorder “Note to self: Speak to the lads about tag teams, we could do with a few more. Maybe Sparks and Neon? Good enemies make better partners...additional note: Adam was the better black ranger, Zack can go suck a lemon” Moving into a viewing room, JP stopped in his tracks. It wasn’t an overly busy room, a few groups dotted sparsely around watching some monitors that had been set out. If he wasn’t mistaken, the eery purple/blue glow on the screen was indicative of the fact that one Gethin Rhys was making his way to the ring. The reason the South Carolina native had stopped in his tracks was because the last breath of his dream had just appeared before him; Mileena Winslow or Morgana to most. She was sitting all alone, writing into a notepad.. He took a hard gulp which almost got caught in his throat. Was now the best time to approach her? She seemed intent on studying the Rhys/2 Badd match. Maybe he should just leave? It didn’t really matter because before he had even finished his thought, he was sitting down next to her.
“...what you working on?” smooth moves, Carling.
Usually, Mileena would be attentive to what was on the screen. Her notepad was a small size journal, hardcover, that reflected the ‘Handbook of the Recently Deceased’ from Beetlejuice. Her handwriting was elegant, thin, almost like calligraphy, which reflected her upbringing in a fairly wealthy family. The last thing she had written on her pad was not the match about the Initiate forcing himself into the tournament, since she had a call she had to take, but about the interview with Gethin Rhys and Joy Ryder. Tension. Possible story arc to come where Joy is involved. Retribution teaser? ‘Bring me your brother in Japan’.
Along with her notepad, she also had a porcelain mug with a Halloween-esque theme to it, filled to the brim with English Breakfast tea and a cherry blossom sudoko book beside it, that she did while she watched the screen. Some parts of the show weren’t as exciting as others, so if she was bored, she would continue to listen but work on puzzle 102. She would finish that puzzle before she got to her hotel room.
Either way, yes, Mileena was dazed as she stared into the screen, contemplating the phone call that had happened moments ago with her mother. You see, with a mother like Charleigh Winslow, a person must harness the skill: filter out the nonsense and find the point. The gothic wrestler could only handle her mother and well, her sister, Precious, who had a similar way with words, in doses. They were a bit much for any person - very loquacious and into themselves. At least her other sister, Raven, was doing her own thing and trying to make it big as a female rapper. Throughout all the one-sided chatter, Mileena learned two important things: One, her King of the Hill, star football player cousin, who sleeps with everyone and anyone that has a nice ass and a vag, actually got himself a steady girlfriend. Let’s see how long that lasts. Connor. And two, her adorable, sweet blessing of a cousin in their large, wild, unapologetically wealthy family had a crush, which isn’t something that happened often since the boy would rather stay home and read Lord of the Rings or play video games with his best friend. Oliver.
And as such, her mother wanted to reward them and their friends… jesus, that was a lot of people… to go to an AWE PPV. Specifically? Starccade. The biggest show of the year. Man, her mother loved to spoil her cousins. Those two… especially. And now, it was Mileena’s job to talk around and get a large amount of tickets, front row seats, to AWE’s main show and VIP Passes. Great. Of course, Mileena loved her family and would do whatever she could do to give them the perfect gift. THAT BEING SAID, if Connor and his girl do not last, he can kiss the Starccade event, GOODBYE. Boy needed to learn to be loyal. Her coursing thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice that belonged to one of the puppeteers at her company. The passionate, dorky one.
Still with her electric blue contacts on, having not taken off her outfit from her promo because it was comfortable and she would actually wear something like this on a day-to-day basis (she never did leave her goth phase), Mileena glanced over to the writer, locking her penetrating gaze with his eyes that reminded her of a dark void. Her face was expressionless as ever, her posture was straight and proper, with her chest perked up in an exquisite display, and her voice was softer than her stage act, but still hypnotizing by the mellow and smoky tone it naturally had. “Nothing at the moment.” The wrestler flatly said, appearing to not register the fact that someone, for once, that wasn’t Trinity, her father, or a higher up telling her what she had to do, wanted to actually talk to her for no particular reason besides… talking. “... How about you? What’s your day been throwing ‘atcha?” Mileena wasn’t necessarily sure if she was good at casually talking but she’d try her best. Luckily, her time at the AWE has helped her not have obnoxious, socialite mannerisms.
She’s talking to you, don’t fuck this up JP offered the bewitching star of the women’s division a genuine smile. He had never at all expected for her to respond to him, with most of their interactions boiling down to short discussions about her nightly booking. They were by no means friends. However JP felt something, something that he just couldn’t quite put his finger on when it came to the dark temptress Mileena, he felt a synergy, something that he truly could not find the words for; the best he could come up with was kindred spirit. “Well… let’s see. The lads and I got here early, tried to tackle Caiden and tell him our plans for him in the coming months, that was a nightmare. Other than that, just the usual routine, making sure everything runs smoother than silk.”
The enchantress watched him intently as he ran through his day with her. They had something planned for Caiden? She wasn’t going to lie to herself, she was absolutely curious what they had in mind for that impressive talent. That impressive talent that Trinity hoped would get with her sister in time. That young, energetic underdog shipped Joy with Caiden so hard, if there was a ship button it would be non-existent from the damage of Trinity bashing it continuously. As she listened to him, Mileena looked away and scribbled something down on her notepad in silence. Still attentive to him by ear, but her gaze no longer on him making it seem like she wasn’t interested in what he was saying.
The writer stiffened his right hand to stop it from tapping the table in rhythm, a nervous tick and one he did not want Mileena to notice. As always was the case with JP, a thousand thoughts began to run through his head at a million miles an hour. If one were to peer inside the mind of John Paul Carling, it would best be described as a rejected idea from Harry Potter; it was a place with a million lock doors, stairs leading to nowhere, no one thing ever staying in the place that it should. Trying to sift through the chaos was a constant battle, it was why so many random things just squirted from JP’s mouth at any given time. Taking hold of his shaking wrist with his free hand under the table, the adorkable one uttered a sentence which he only dared utter in the mess he called a mind palace. “...I..I was wondering if you wanted...you want to grab something after the show? Like some food or a coffee, tea...you know with me?”
“How about a burger and some beer?” She offered, not reading too into his request to take her out to eat. “Here.” Delicately, Mileena teared a piece of paper out of her notebook and slid it across the table to him, “That’s my number for faster means of contacting me. I’m assuming you want to talk about potential story arcs for Morgana, yes?”
Unfortunately for JP, Mileena’s phone went off with the instrumentals of Ghost Love Score by Nightwish. Glancing over at her phone to see who was calling her, she heavily sighed, “Non-stop today. This woman.” Before grabbing her phone, she turned her attention to the writer, “Meet me here once AFTERSHOCK is over. I’ll tell my dad I’m riding with you. This would mean I also need a ride back to the hotel, if you don’t mind. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” She stood up, answered her phone so her mother wouldn’t bitch about being on hold forever, “One sec.”
Quickly, she gathered her things and then before the distracted woman vanished from the viewing room, she turned her body to face JP. Her phone was placed against her chest with her right hand, her purse was hooked on her shoulder, and her mug was firmly grasped with her other hand, “Thanks… for talking to me. Sorry, I had to cut it short. We’ll have more time after the show. See you later?” The wrestler patiently waited for the writer to respond.
”You most certainly will” The lovelorn booker smiled giddily as the human personification of deadly nightshade poisoned him with her beauty. ”See you tonight” He watched as she headed off into the bowels of the arena and for what felt like the first time in hours, he released a pent up gasp of breath. He did it. He finally asked out Mileena, now all he had to do was not mess it up. She would be riding with him, in his car, together. You couldn’t write this stuff! Well he could, maybe not Kevin and Gary….wait she said about story arcs for Morgana? Oh JP, you done fucked up. She thinks it’s a business meeting.
”Damnit Janet” | I see you!
The best things in life are dangerous, like me.
5' ¾", 106 lbs - 5'8", 135 lbs
2 years Developmental, will debut soon with her husband
3 Years at AWE, 2 years at Developmental. 5 years total.
|Birth Name |
» Alice Jane Slayer (Kennedy)
» Ariel Michelle Slayer (Flanagan)
|Hails From |
» Atlanta, GA
» April 17 (26)
» October 22 (23)
|Backstage Rep |
» You got all these sweethearts dressed as bitches, guess what? Ari is a fucking bitch on and off the ring. She does not like you. It takes her a LONG time to accept you into her world because your flaws are blaring red and she fucking hates it. Some people do not get the concept of personal space. If she's doing her own thing, don't interrupt her. She enjoys dark humor, other people's drama, and crude people. Constantly observing her surroundings, she will size you up before you approach her. Ruthless. Entitled. & Impatient. She was never fond of dealing with people, which is honestly her biggest weakness on the ring. Charisma, that is. It isn't something that comes naturally to her like it does for her little sister.
As flawed as Ari is, those she does let in, like her husband, Michael Flanagan, know that she does mean well, but due to personal experiences, her built mechanism of verbally lashing out at people to protect her own, has gotten to a point where she can't really break it down over night. Ari is a tough cookie and audaciously bold. A risk taker, through and through. A primadonna is an understatement of her personality and Ari refuses to be considered less than. She aims to be in the big leagues, even if it means she might break a few bones...
You see, she and Michael were already dating prior to their debut at AWE, which was near the same time. It wasn't hard for him to gain attraction because even if he leans more on the timid side when he's out of character, he's a phenomenal heel and it shined through since day 1. Ari, however, spent her first two years figuring out her image. She was simply a blank canvas, a doll of a woman, and a temperamental wrestler, who fought well enough to get her to the mid card but required A LOT of polishing, as she tried her downright best to 'find herself' in the ring.
A year ago, Michael and her got married, and for a year, the writers have been pushing her more toward his storyline to enhance his biker boy look and guess what? It's working. People are starting to see the character behind the bitch. While Ajax is the tail gunner of his motorcycle gang, Fallen Angels, she is his queen. The Bonnie to his Clyde, who knows her way around her gun, or in this case the ring, and isn't afraid to use that to her advantage. She's a tough-talking, quick-shooting criminal and is growing to be a machine gun-blazing woman who you better not underestimate. Whenever she's threatened, she doesn't even flinch, she jumps right in and marks her territory. Fearless and it's all thanks to the writers pushing her more in the direction of the rebel girl archetype because it's something Ariel can actually relate to.
Fun fact: She isn't fond of motorcycles, but for love, she'll get on one.
» Amore hasn't debuted yet, but her face is known backstage because of her sister. The young, energetic valet aspires to be as influential as Jezebel (FC: Jessa Hinton), who was the Faceless' on-screen eye candy and eventual wife. Jezebel may have made the Faceless seem more humane, but Amore? She wants to do more than be an accessory for her love. Revolutionize the role of valets all over! At the root of it all, Alice is a business woman, who doesn't just want to 'accompany' her husband when she's on the ring with him. She wants to get heavily involved in the action inside, outside, within the audience-- ANYWHERE. A dreamer, the doll aims to earn the loudest pops of the night. Her beloved Benjamin tells her she has a niche and that is her charisma. Her stage presence. When Amore is in the spotlight, there is no doubt people will be starstruck.
Sneaky, cunning, and without hesitation, Amore will do absolutely anything for Mordecai to heighten his chances of winning. It helps that she has one sexy act that no one can top. Rated R, sexy-goodness. She acts like a child, but moves her body like a woman. Her influence is undeniable and even if wrestling isn't her top skill (it's singing and acting), she will go down in history!
As for backstage? A lovable, naive, playful and misleading young adult. Careless and foolish. Accidental prone when she isn't performing. Alice doesn't want to grow up, so she'll act far younger than she is. Oh, and she's scary possessive over her husband.
|Other |
» FCs: Kerli Kõiv & Jana
» 721728 & 324C83
|Fighting Style |
» Ari keeps you on your toes, you never know what to expect and has a passion for power. Known for her agility, high stunts, and her attitude, Ari, from the get go, set her sight on cleaning up the Divas division, showing that girls were more than accessories and tools. Even her sister, who does strut her body like it's nobody's business, isn't just that. A body. Amore is a character, whose insanity and giggles will be what the people remember. Psychotic little girl trapped in a woman's form.
Meanwhile, Ari has commitment to excellence and wants to be recognized as a professional wrestler, with Ajax by her side. Her goal: to be one of the most vicious Divas of her era. She doesn't even have to be one of the stars, she just wants to be scary. Although she isn't there yet, she will continue to work her ass off. Her current success is all thanks to her athleticism, hotheaded personality, impressive arsenal of offensive maneuvers, and her husband's biker persona.
Ari has countless ways of finishing her opponents and she will not give into status quo. A true queen of the rebels.
|Signature Moves |
» Highside (Diving Hurricanrana)
» Ari Bomb (Lita Bomb)
» Eating Asphalt (Swanton Bomb)
» Helmet Head (Hardiac Arrest)
|Finisher |
» Boneyard Moonsault (Moonsault)
» New Prime (Widow's Peak)
|Theme |
» Whatever she had before, doesn't matter. Now she has Superhuman to match Ajax.
|Gimmick |
» As said earlier in backstage rep, Ari is Ax's Bonnie to his Clyde. His ride or die. They have a fiery dynamic and shower each other with attention. They are motivated by chasing the danger, excitement, and action of wrestling. He's the gun, she's the trigger. If Ari isn't happy, Ajax is pissed. He might be the King of the Hill but without his queen, the high of living it dangerous 24/7 isn't as addicting. They're into each other in a visceral and physical way. There is a sense of co-dependency and downright bat-shit insanity between these two. Ariel even went out of her way to get 'His' tattoo on her lower back, to match Michael's "Hers" tattoo on his arm, to add to their act (when he wraps his arm around her, the audience would know - she belongs to him). A psychotic and possessive love story where their need for one another is absolutely dangerous for anyone, including each other.
Soon enough, the audience will learn crazy runs in the Slayer family because when Amore makes her debut, they'll see that the blonde is light years ahead in the insanity department.
As for fashion sense? Ari is a daredevil biker chick. Leather jacket with the Fallen Angels symbol, bustiers to showcase her stomach and her back (especially when her coat is off), leather boots, denim, the color scheme black and white, bandannas, anything really that makes her look like a total badass.
|Face or Heel |
» Heel
|Job at AWE |
» Amore will be a valet for Mordecai, who is her husband off screen.
|Skills |
» Persistent and high physical stamina
Charming and full of energy, Alice is an energetic doer, cheerful and extremely spontaneous. A true woman of action. Even if she doesn't seem it, she has strong observational skills and a keen sense to other people's feelings. Quite the problem solver, regardless of her outlandish methods. This spirited blonde would like to think she's an excellent diplomat and negotiator, especially when it comes to her pitching ideas. By nature, she's too open and direct to deliberately manipulate someone (lies and manipulation is foreign to her, unless it's for an act), but she will fight her cause until there isn't any fight left in her.
» Improviser
Perceptive, witty, and clever. Rarely missing anything that is important, because she approaches everything with curiosity and interest, Alice will take impossible situations and make 'em great. Her memory for details and facts are impressive. She absorbs everything that interests her like a sponge, storing it in her noggin for later use.
» Dancing, acting, and gymnastic experience.
Pretty point blank, Alice kept her family busy by getting them to sign her up to as much as possible so she can get better at... life. Also, with such a busy schedule when she was younger, she didn't need to be home, which was a far more pleasant option than dealing with the turmoil. Her home life drew her insane. Convincing her parents to get her involved in the community was the easy part, making them part of it, her life, though? Not so much.
» Odd & blessed with boundless creativity
Alice has always been a little weirdo. Too much individuality for one girl. And yet, she doesn't know how to be any different. Sure, some of her creative ideas are concerning and creepy, but why should she limit herself? If her mind wants to run rampant, it should! Being different isn't a bad thing and Alice will never change for anyone.
|Looks & Style |
» Inspired by her aunt, who led a broken family with dignity and grace, Amore strives to be a visual masterpiece. Her aunt was a woman who carried whatever she wore like a queen. A queen who had an undeniable ability to live a life of pure kindness. Alice's goal, no matter where she is, or if she's being Amore or not, is to make her image timeless. Definitive and iconic, to where it is her trademark. Her look. A look that pushes boundaries and continues to evolve. Alice wants to be a trend setter, a walking fashion statement, and when people look at their television screen or see her on the ring, she wants them to recognize her immediately and maybe, just maybe, follow her as an example. If she can aspire others to walk with an air of confidence, loving who they were, while also not being afraid to explore out of the box, then her life would be more than fulfilled.
What more could you ask for? She's happily married, she has endless projects that make her smile, she's about to start the career of her life that will hopefully set her on a remarkable path of happiness and success, and if she's able to move someone or an entire audience in ways not many people can, then she can say she is more than satisfied with the life she's been given.
Hardships aside. Alice is a happy girl.
|Personality Traits |
» Visionary → Imaginative → Fun-Loving → Gregarious → Persistent → Dutiful (even if she is unbeknownst to the fact that she's a tease) → Exuberant → Trusting → Picky → Dependent → Reckless → Fearful (primarily of her husband leaving her)
|Favorite wrestler |
» She's biased. Her husband, even if he hasn't made his mark yet. Alice will make it known that he's HER favorite. |
49,068 | 1,324 | 41 | 2,180 | 2,019 | Collab with:
Andrew left the viewing room, smiling. His segment from last week had been even better that he’s hoped. In fact, it had even scared him once or twice! Now he was even more excited about his return. Even though he hadn’t wrestled for over a year, just being back in the AWE machine brought such a wave of nostalgia. This was truly where he belonged, and now he was single again, he didn’t have to feel that constant guilt of leaving a loved one behind. She’ll be happier with Brian, anyway. He’ll be around.
His happiness twinged with sadness, Andrew headed towards catering. With helping backstage wherever he could, Hector has forgotten to eat. This would be his second meal of the day, and it was late. He was famished!
Duncan was sitting in the men’s locker room, watching the show through his phone. His eyes widened when that creepy music played through the miniature speaker at the bottom of his phone. He had not got the memo that the one and only Hector was back. Immediately, the Brit set off to find the man himself, Andrew.
Almost bursting into the first place he looked, the cafeteria, he immediately spotted his quarry. ”ANDREW!!!” He yelled out before rushing over beside him. ”You’re back? Since when? What!?” He said in a rush. Duncan enjoyed the matches he had with Andrew before he had to leave the business temporarily.
Andrew recognised the voice and turned smiling to the direction it came from. ”DUNCAN!” the friendly Scot replied in a voice just as loud, before giving the smaller man a bear hug. When he let go, he chuckled, and grabbed an empty paper plate, ready to load up. ”I came back last week after finishing the shoot for my hype package, but I was tired so I didn’t do much. This week feels like my real first week back. It’s good to see you, mate! How’ve things been while I’ve been away?”
Duncan happily accepted the bear hug. ”I missed the memo. Speaking of the shoot, think that went over with the crowd well enough for the return of THE Hector? ‘Cuz, between you and me, I sure as hell did.” Duncan replied, also getting a plate for his meal.
Andrew quickly finished the large mouthful of food he had sneaked in while Duncan was talking, and washed it down with some beer from a red plastic cup. ”I heard the cheers, and the silence, more importantly. That wasn’t the apathetic ‘nobody’s cheering or booing but they’re talking to their mates’ silence. That was true silence. It was the sound of half the audience literally making no sound. It was like a void!”
Duncan grinned. ”That’s the best reaction Hector could’ve gotten. I prefer the noise myself.” He said, glad that he could discuss these things with an old friend. It was pretty cool how the contrasting reactions for different wrestlers achieve the same effect. ”What about the competition? Been out for a year and a half, that’s a lot of ring rust to shake off.” Duncan asked, quite cheekily. He was very aware of what Hector can do.
”Hey, I’ve been training for a month or two in preparation for this return. Plus I start back on the house show circuit starting tomorrow. Besides, I’ve never been the most fast or acrobatic wrestler. My skills are the kind of skills you don’t lose just by lack of practice.”
Duncan chuckled. ”Many a chokeslams you have given me shows that you have skills that make up for that.” In ring, Hector vs Clayton would be quite a show due to the difference in wrestling abilities. Hard slobber knockers from Hector to quick, flashy combos given back by Clayton. The fans ate it up.
The crowd booed as Hector sat up before a cover could even be made from that devastating spear that had managed to even floor the large man, though Hector was staggering, and clutching his head, and the audience knew that this was telegraphing Hector’s own spear….thing. The commentary team also hyped this up with the first utterance of what would be the frame for every phrase used to cover this move since; ‘Uh oh! Chaos better watch out….because Daddy’s Home!’
In that brief pause, the lights started flashing, leaving the ring in alternating darkness and green light in quick succession, and in this window, Hector charged Clayton and performed a spear-takedown hybrid. With Clayton now down, Hector stalked around Chaos with slimy, snakelike movements that looked even more disturbing coming from the giant’s cumbersome and ungraceful frame, as if he was distorting himself somehow. He was toying with Chaos, waiting for him to get up when any sane wrestler who cared about winning instead of inflicting pain would have made the cover.
The Anarchist lied dazed, slowly swaying his head to convey regaining consciousness. He slowly turned over and began to try and stand up, managing to push himself up to one knee, panting and clutching his stomach from the shattering force of an almost 300 pound man. Clayton stumbled forward, falling onto both knees as he leant against the ropes, eyes wide at the crowd, clearly shook from the impact.
Clayton’s recovery was slow and cumbersome, almost how Hector moved in the ring, proving the kind of strength the Monster was packing. Clayton turned around and made a charge at his opponent. While Hector went to decapitate him with a clothesline, Clayton adeptly slid onto his knees and under the tree-trunk like arm. He planted his hands onto the apron and swung himself around, trying to perform a sweeping kick to down Hector once again, but to no avail. While he did connect, Clayton had to immediately pull back, exclaiming in pain as he clutched his shin that practically ricocheted off of the leg of Hector.
Hector practically no-sold that attack, and turned menacingly and slowly towards Chaos as if that kick had simply made him angry. He grabbed Clayton by the neck, and delivered a devastatingly high chokeslam. The slamming sound it made on the canvas could be heard even without mics. Hector then made the cover. 1...2...3
Andrew chuckled and rubbed his head. “Maybe I shouldn’t be so rough with them in future. We’ve already lost Drayden to the shelf. I don’t want to injure any other members of the roster. We’re all too important.”
Duncan nodded but smirked. ”Hey man, it’s what the fans want. But you’re right, probably more now than ever…”
Andrew sighed, then looked at his watch. ”Christ, I promised somer of the guys I’d help with the setup five minutes ago!” He cried, shoving the rest of the food into his mouth and waving as he ran off. There’d be time to chew on the way.
Manuel had turned up to his first AWE show- BACKSTAGE! If getting the phone call from the business that told him he got the contract wasn’t enough to hype him up, then this experience certainly did the trick. Getting to watch the wrestlers amongst the other wrestlers was fantastic! He was sitting at the back with some loose tracksuit bottoms and a white vest. It would be ludicrous to think anyone knew who he was. However, Manuel hoped that he’d soon be good friends with everyone at the business.
”Mind if I sit here? asked the voice of a man who, after asking permission, sat down without waiting for a response. The man was dressed in a grey sports sweater, and black gym shorts. Looking at his face, though, it would dawn on Manuel that this was Oscar Sullivan, or Oscar O’Sullivan, as he was known in the AWE. As if to confirm this obvious fact, he offered his hand and introduced himself as Oscar Sullivan.
Manuel was like a fan meeting his hero. ”Y-Yes, Mr Sullivan! Of course!” He said, words tumbling out of his mouth as he accepted the handshake. ”Manuel Hernandez. I… uhhh… hope to be in the ring with you one day, Mr Sullivan.” Manuel introduced back. This… is… awesome!
Oscar couldn’t help but chuckle and be humbled by seeing a seasoned wrestler marking out for him. “I hope to see you in the ring too. I’ve heard nothing but good things about you.”
If Manuel’s brain could be heard, he was squealing like a girl. ”Really? Th-Thank you Mr Sullivan! That’s… well.... It means a lot…” He replied. The luchador enjoyed this moment. Perhaps he could learn some great things from Oscar, but of course Oscar has way more time in the AWE world. League’s above El Fuego Diablo even.
”You don’t need to be so timid,” Oscar answered. ”You’re a season wrestler yourself, and I bet there’s a lot you could do far better than I could. Even so, you should probably learn some things about how things work in the AWE, and with Will on the shelf, I have a lot more free time backstage than I used to.”
Manuel chuckled and smiled. ”Thank you Mr Sullivan, but compared to you and the other veterans here, I might as well be having my first match ever.” He joked a little. While Manuel truly did appreciate the compliment, he was also not delusional. It would be a tough, arduous journey ahead, but Manuel was willing to make every step even if the path was covered with shattered glass. ”I really look forward to learning the ropes of AWE, especially if I can learn from wrestlers like yourself.”
”That sounded like a request to be taught a few things,” Oscar replied, chuckling. ”I’ve admittedly never been an actual mentor before.”
Manuel beamed but stayed humble and cautious. ”R-Really? You’d help teach me and mentor me? I don’t know what to say… that would be greatly appreciated if that’s the case.” The luchador replied. This was exactly the kind of start he’d need in the AWE.
”Sure,” the veteran replied. ”I should probably find out how much you know first. I might try and pull some strings, see if I can get some house show matches with you this week. I trust in your ability to wrestle well, but that’s only half of it. Maybe not even half of it. It’s all about the crowd. They like a story. Whether it’s storytelling in the ring, or promos, they need a reason to care about who wins and who loses a match. Even the purest of smarks, who claim to their friends that nothing matters but pure skill in the ring, won’t get invested in a hypeless match.”
Manuel’s smile got bigger and bigger. ”Why.. That would be great, Mr Sullivan!” He said excitedly. ”I look forward to that chance! I promise I won’t waste it and you won’t regret it, Mr Sullivan.” | is no monster under your bed, because I'm right here.
6”8 – 130kg| Eight Years Of Experience
|Birth Name |
»Andrew Gosforth
|Hails From |
»Paisley, Scotland
»April 7th, 1986 (31)
|Fighting Style |
» Hector is a large man, and as such has a large arsenal of power moves, but what sets him apart from other powerhouses is his in-ring psychology, mindgames and theatrics. In his gimmick’s newest incarnation, will sometimes hurt himself just to unnerve his opponent, as well as relish in the pain of his opponent instead of fighting to win quickly. A Hector match can be an uncomfortable watch, and sometimes won’t even feel PG even though it breaks no rules.
|Signature Moves |
» Daddy’s Awake (Spear/Double Leg Takedown hybrid with theatrics)
» Nightmare Drop
» Chokeslam Backbreaker
» Lifting Spinebuster
|Finisher |
» Straightjacket Neckbreaker
» Dreamcatcher
|Theme |
» Old Theme:
» New Theme:
|Backstage Rep |
»’Hector’ had enjoyed success as a big guy with the gimmick of an insane slasher villain, though this translated to cheesy effects, mind games and blackout attacks every other week. He was never a world champion though he did briefly hold the IC belt, and had an upper-card feud with Drayden during one of the rare instances when he wasn’t champion or challenging for the championship. This all came to an end over a year ago when Andrew had to go through a messy divorce, and took time off to return to Scotland and deal with that. He was written off TV by being set of fire from one of the chemicals of Dr. Sinister off the back of a feud with The creation, and then he was gone.
Several months ago, he came back for training, and to people’s surprise, it’s as if he was never gone. She’s the same old chatty, friendly big scot who enjoys a drink, and he had very little ring rust. He fell back into place in the AWE machine and is now ready to return to the ring, though his debut is still being held off until after the tournament. Personally, Andrew isn’t sure his character still fits in with an industry that’s gearing towards a more realistic, MMA style populated by small, fast guys with realistic names and characters, or maybe that just means he’s needed more than ever.
|Gimmick |
» Hector’s new gimmick is far more genuinely scary and intense than his old one. He is now a deranged psychopath, and even though there are still blackout attacks and lighting effects, Hector is framed less of a supernatural monster than he was in his previous run and far more of an ordinary albeit twisted and deranged human, and therefore all the more unsettling for it, as he seems real now. He will wear creepy masks, give nonsensical promos that make the interviewer uncomfortable, stalk his feuding opponents backstage in skits and during their promos, ect. His mindgames are a thing of beauty now. Rather than before, where every opponent would get the same thing (dolls, abandoned asylums, little girls), now each feud’s mindgames are tailored towards the fears and insecurities of his opponents and a big deal will be made of him getting inside their heads.
|Face or Heel |
» Indiscriminate Heel
|Other |
» Face Claim – Rory McCann |
49,069 | 1,324 | 42 | 2,573 | 1,662 | Collab with
Ft. Joy Ryder, Justice Marshall, Claire Gilmore, Chance Ryder, & Roddy Quinn
Segment 3
“Okay, so you were in the hot tub with him, and you were drunk… then what happened? Surely, something happened, right? You don’t do something like that and just have nothing happen!” Justice turned to face her best friend as they sat next to each other in the makeup department, getting dolled up for the night. “Don’t tell me that the man you’ve been lusting after for your whole tenure here hasn’t put it in you yet! What’s the point of living life if Caiden Winters isn’t gonna show you the glorious pleasure of being cummed inside? Come onnnnn, Joy!”
Straightening Joy’s hair from behind, making sure there were no flyaways, Claire looked between Justice and Joy through the mirror. Oh my goodness. She had to hear about this. And as every girl already knew, she was all about confidentiality.
Oh, Joy. Did you? Did you sleep with Caiden Winters yet? SOUND THE ALARMS IF YOU DID.
Ms. Ryder didn’t like the attention on her, especially in regards to a male that she may have been highly sexually attracted to, even if she wasn’t going to outright admit it. Joy would deny it until it was true! Rolling her eyes at her best friend, letting one of Claire’s underlings put lipgloss on her, Joy directed her words toward Justice even if she couldn’t turn her head, “Justy…” Her friend could be such a vulgar woman sometimes. “I fell asleep.” Shrugging to herself, the interviewee admitted with hardly any care. Not even embarrassed. This would be the second time, in a row, she fell asleep with him next to her. This caused Claire’s expression to drop.
SHE FELL ASLEEP?! Her chances were limited and she FELL ASLEEP.
Justice squinted at Joy, a bunch of different responses flying through her head. Seriously, Joy!? Seriously!? After some consideration, Justice let out a long, drawn out sigh, looking at her lap. “This man just keeps letting you fall asleep and doesn’t make a move. I’ve made up my mind: he’s gay. He’s gotta be gay. Right Claire? Oooh, maybe that’s why he and your brother were always sharing rooms… I can get behind Caiden and Blake being gay. Even if it means my Joy doesn’t get what she wants. There’s no way a man just let’s you fall asleep twice without even touching you. Not even kissing you! He’s either gay, autistic, or… dumb.” Justice decided. As it happened, Caiden Winters was none of those things; but her mind was made up.
“He isn't like that!" Joy grew defensive, turning her head toward her friend the moment the lip gloss stick departed her lips. “Not ALL men think with their....”
“Dicks.” Claire cursed for Joy, who didn’t like to sound foul at work.
“Yes! It isn’t his fault he has a lot on his mind and probably doesn’t think of me like that.” It was in this moment, Claire realized that Joy had accepted the fate of being considered nothing more than ‘Blake’s little sister’.
The makeup artist, as well as hairdresser, gasped. “This absolutely won’t do! We must make you dynamite tonight. Yes. You will approach him again. But this time, full blown, sexy Joy. I have decided. After this show, I will make you my masterpiece.”
“You really don't have to..." Joy softly protested.
“Yes please! It’s sad watching her not only crush on him from afar, but deny crushing on him. It’s so obvious even Wade sees it, and Wade’s a nerd! All he ever does is watch tapes and eat donuts. Which I only think he ever has on hand to eat because of Trin…” Justice trailed off slightly, before puckering her lips a bit so that lip gloss could be applied. The end goal was to get Joy a boyfriend! Not just any boyfriend, the boyfriend. The one she dreamed of!
Joy opened her mouth to say something, only to hear a voice from behind say, “Joy, we need you in five!” It was almost time for Caiden’s promo and her chest felt tight. There was anticipation in her heart and a rush coursing through her stomach. Butterflies. She honestly didn’t know what to expect, since she refrains from reading the card. “Be there soon!”
Claire was almost done, curling the ends of Joy’s hair because why not? Her friend was going to be in front of her future bae. Every moment needed to count. “I’m not denying anything! Do you have any idea how Blake would react if anything were to… happen?” Joy grumbled in annoyance. Nothing good would come from her continuing her pursuit. “Unrelated but Trin will regret all those donuts she eats soon enough. It’s her daily diet. It’ll catch up with her one of these days!”
“Catch up… to her butt.” Justice remarked as she got up out of the chair, gesturing Joy to run off. “He’s gonna be pissed if you’re late, then you're never gonna get it.” She tutted, stuffing her hands in her pocket. Time to wander around until she got called.
In the massive garage, where the TV trucks resided, Joy grasped tightly on her mic and took a deep breath in. Caiden hadn’t come out yet, but it was her job to stir him emotionally. Kevin had brought her aside moments ago to make sure that she focused the interview on Caiden’s questionable morals and his threat (or more like, his promise) toward Roddy Quinn. As much as she didn’t want to pressure him, it was her job and the moment he came in the scene, they would go live… in the ring and on many people's television screens.
Her twin met her gaze and gave her a nod. Turning her head to the right, she saw the backdoor open. It was time.
Indeed it was. Flying out of the backdoor was a man on a mission to bring his message to everyone who would dare listen to him: Caiden Winters. With a chip on his shoulder and a vendetta against damn near everyone in this company, he froze when he saw Joy standing there waiting for him, like she alway seemed to be doing. “What do you want? I’m busy.”
“Caiden Winters!” More of an informal interview introduction, but it fit the moment. Joy rushed toward him to make sure he didn’t get too far because she knew better. She knew he was a man on a mission, always. The camera followed her and then shifted from her face to his, “There seems to be some backlash with your threat at Shock N AWE Chicago for Roddy Quinn. Some people think you’re stepping out of line and need to know your place, that all you’re doing is ruining the image he helped build for you. Do you have anything to say about this?” Might as well hit him hard from the get go.
“Let’s me and you get one thing straight right here and right now. You think Roderick Quinn built my image? I’ve been doing this since I was fourteen years old. You think he came to a boy in Canada who could barely speak English and built him up? What do you think I was doing my whole life when I wasn’t here? I was in a real company, led by a real man: Misawa Baba, who helped me from day fucking one, when I arrived in Japan and he trained me and he helped me become the man I am today. Because of him, I’ve headlined the Tokyo Dome, I’ve won the Grand Prix, I’ve won the Battle of Los Angeles. Me and your brother held eight different tag titles at once — did Roddy build his image too, Joy? Idiot.” Caiden spoke with such apprehension, such anger… unbridled emotion flowed with each of his words — as always. The consummate professional, he never took the condescending looking out of his face; how dare she claim such a thing.
He’d apologize later.
Of course, Joy would rather ask other questions, but for the sake of entertainment and at Kevin’s request, she would keep egging Caiden along. Her heart did drop when he called her an idiot, but she knew better… it was all an act. Right? “Then why are you here?! In HIS empire? You want to be great. You say you are great. And yet, you allow your anger to influence your actions and all the people can see is you not keeping it under control and having a downright tantrum.” There was visible frustration and focus in Joy’s expression and her voice rose with every word. Did she agree with what she was saying? Not entirely. Many people, especially his fans, knew he was great, no, the best, and he had the whole package. But she’d play devil’s advocate if that meant he’d get more attention and… stay.
“I don’t say I’m the great, I say that I’m the best. That I’m better than the best. And Joy? I came here to bring the pain.” Behind them, a long stretch limo rolled up, and Caiden shifted his footing as it came to a stop. “You remember, two weeks ago. You asked me how I was gonna get the old man’s attention? Watch.” And then, as soon as the door to the limo opened, and Roddy stepped out of it, Caiden was on him in a flash, clubbing the old man with an elbow and then throwing him against the wall.
The old man never had a chance, as he was manhandled by the angry wrestler. Caiden threw Roderick Quinn into a random car, and when the true king of AWE slumped against the door to the car, Caiden picked him up by his shirt so they were face to face, and Caiden spoke. “I’m done with you wasting my time.” He growled at him, before he took his boss’s head and smashed out the driver side window with it, slamming Roddy’s face through the glass.
When Roddy slumped down out of the car and down to the ground, his face was dripping with the proverbial crimson mask, bleeding like a stuffed pig. Caiden turned, and walked directly toward the camera, heading toward the gorilla area, and when he passed Chance, he shoulder checked him, the camera shaking in response. What? Gotta play up the character.
Although Joy wasn’t seen on camera and Chance had focused in on Roddy’s face, the audience could hear her surprised and frantic voice, “Don’t let him pass out! Someone call the paramedics!” As calm as her voice tried to sound, it was obvious that Joy Ryder was completely shook. Her brown strands came into frame as she rushed to her boss’ side and then the camera cut to the inside of AWE, the stage camera, that aimed towards the ramp.
The music hit, and apparently Roddy had done a good job creating a hated persona for him, because even after the vicious attack on his boss, Caiden Winter’s reaction was loud and powerful cheers. Everyone wanted to hear what he had to say, and why wouldn’t they? He’d just went off on the only person that had supported him through this, other than the fans. He made his way to the ring slowly and with purpose; he didn’t have a match and to be honest, he didn’t give a damn if he did waste their time. This was his fucking show.
He rolled under the bottom rope and walked to the other side of the ring and held his hand out for a microphone — and, maybe out of fear, a mic was quickly supplied. Caiden, stomping around the ring as he spoke, his hand shaking slightly — he was hyped — began to spit the eternal fire. “Whoops, guess I beat down Morgana’s daddy; I better watch my damn back, that bitch has got daddy issues.” Snickering slightly, Caiden continued his monologue, “I’m only going to say this once, and I’m going to make it nice and clear: I hate him. I hate Roderick Quinn, and I hate everything he stands for. Now, hate is… hate’s a strong word, but I mean it. I hate him so much. And you know why I hate him? Because there’s one thing that I can’t stand, that makes my blood boil and that’s being ignored. And being ignored even when I yell AND SCREAM! For something that’s not going to happen, THAT’S NOT GOING TO HAPPEN, and that’s an AWE title match… because someone back there knows that I am better than anything he has ever created, that his best creation — Drayden — could barely put me away when I had a dislocated shoulder, and mark my words, Drayden will never beat me again. Because I’m an indestructible wrestling machine, and I know every move in his book, I know counters to his counter’s counters. That’s fine, because Roddy Quinn can just sit backstage and watch me be better than anything or anyone that will ever step foot in this company.”
Caiden paused and let out a long breath. He closed his eyes and let himself calm down for a few seconds while the crowd cheered loudly. “There may never be another time that Caiden Winters steps into the ring at an AWE event and fights, but if there ever is, then it should be a good match; shake hands. Friendly competition between two great athletes… but it won’t be. Because, I hate everyone back there. I hate them, as shallow as it might be, because their bank statements look a lot better than mine after two years of being wasted potential here. Listen to me, I can only spend so many nights sleeping in my car, spill so many pints of blood, I can only go to the hospital and use a fake name because I can’t afford health insurance before I start thinking ‘you know, I don’t really wanna be so nice to people who have what I think… belongs to me.”
Another pause and this time Caiden was very suddenly fired up again. “I’M GONNA BEAT THE TRASH OUT OF WHOEVER STEPS FOOT IN THIS RING WITH ME NEXT! Because I’m hungry and I’m angry and I don’t… care, about anything. Right now, Roddy Quinn is being dragged back to the trainer’s room and he’s being examined to make sure yours truly didn’t do too much of a number on him, and he has no idea what he’s signed his company up for. Reality is going to give Roderick Quinn and all of the AWE a cold. Hard. SLAP! in the face.”
With that, Caiden Winters dropped the mic, and rolled out of the ring, heading back up the ramp.
He had to apologize to Joy. | Daniel “DC” “Don’t Call Me Danny” “Danny” “Danny Church” Church
6’ - 184 lbs | 12
|Birth Name |
» Daniel Church
|Hails From |
» Sacramento, California
» October 9th, 1985 (31)
|Job at AWE |
» He does not work at AWE. However, he is often at their events and is friends with more than a few wrestlers and backstage employees. He is a wrestling journalist and posts stories as they come and go, and reviews the shows and matches. He reacts accordingly based on how he feels the company is performing, and has no qualms calling out a wrestler or wrestlers for having a shit match, cutting a shit promo, or calling out the powers that be for making their fucking look like goddamn geeks.
|Skills |
» Smooth talking
» Tech savvy
» Dadskills
» Radio host-esque silky smooth voice
» Good at ranting
|Reason for being here |
» When he was younger, in 2001, Daniel Church had a brilliant idea in his school computers class: he’d build a fucking website. Now, the first thing you had to do when building a website, was pick something you were passionate about… at the time, Danny Church was only really passionate about one thing: PROFESSIONAL WRESTLING. Even at the young age of fifteen, DC had a brilliant mind for coding and built a website that was grand, even for the times. It gained a following, and the forums on it exploded in popularity as the tape traders and more hardcore fans finally found a place to talk and get their opinions out there.
The Smark Remark, the website is known as, and it’s only grown since its original inception in mid-2001. Danny made friends with the right people, and after high school, he passed the day-to-day management of the website over to a team of administrators and moderators. The man himself began a focus on the content creation for the website. He hosted podcasts with wrestlers from all over the world, and he began to rate matches.
Every show he saw, either live or on a tape he bought, he rated the match. Over time, his ratings and opinions got a little controversial, with people arguing about whether he was right or wrong, but he there was one thing they agreed on: he was consistent. He also wrote reports on rumors that he heard, and posted opinions and frequently participated in conversations on the message boards.
Four years after graduating, when Danny was 22, his then girlfriend, Clarissa Whitaker, gave birth to his two beautiful children. Twins, a boy and a girl. Robert and Cynthia, Bobby and Cyn. His babies and his life — other than work. They are turning ten in January of next year, and attend an online school to make it easier on Daniel to travel around for his job. They haven’t seen their mother since they were two; as it turns out, their mother was… crazy, to say the least. After Daniel discovered her drug habits and realized she was a poison in his life, he cut her out and got full custody of his children.
Since then, the single dad life has been the life for him. Working and taking care of two rascals isn’t exactly the easiest lot in life, but… he makes it work. When he was called up by Walter Durrel, who proposed combining their two mediums a few years ago, DC jumped on the opportunity. Together now, they put out podcasts reviewing AWE mostly, as that’s Walter’s preferred company. In return, Danny Church offers the Smark Remark’s website as a new home for the Wrestling Journal. They make a surprisingly good team so far.
|Looks & Style |
» Decked out from head to toe in wrestling gear, Danny doesn’t give a FUCK about how people think of him in public. He’s a hardworking single father, get bent. He’ll sometimes match or contradict his children when they go to the shows — both of his kids are huge fans too.
|Personality Traits |
» Danny is brutal and quick to be critical. He doesn’t listen to the reasons for things sucking and just accepts that they suck. If a wrestler isn’t working at their full capacity because of injuries? Whatever, stop fucking working. Utilize your roster, people.
He’s fun to talk to, and is good at telling stories and ranting and making other people who agree with him happy. He often gets into long winded debates on his podcast with Walter, but as a person Danny honestly looks forward to it every night.
Deep down, he’s just a mark, dude. He loves wrestling, everything about it from the ground up is amazing, and he can’t get enough. The fact that he built something great out of his love for wrestling amazes him to this day, and the Smark Remark is his baby. He enjoys posting on the message boards to this day, and recording the weekly podcasts is something he lovingly looks forward to every day.
It’s his second baby, the thing he loves most right behind his children.
|Favorite wrestler |
» Caiden goddamn fucking Winters, fuck you Roddy for burying the best wrestler to ever grace this goddamn planet. And Retribution. Excited for him to come, which I'M SURE HE'LL DO EVENTUALLY ONCE RODERICK QUINN PULLS HIS HEAD OUT OF HIS FUCKING ASS. Gethin's a personal favorite too, at least he gets used properly by those idiots.
And fuck you Drayden, I bet you encouraged that shit, didn’t you? Gotta GO OVER EVERYONE. Asshole. And of course, my fucking kid loves you so I have all that stupid merchandise in my fucking HOUSE.
Trinity’s cool too.
And Morgana.
What? I can’t hate the kids’s favorites, I’d be an asshole.
Except for Drayden. Fuck you. And fuck your stupid fat head wall stickers, now you’re stuck to the goddamn wall behind my FUCKING COUCH.
|Rep at AWE |
» Honestly, most people at the AWE don’t really like him. Daniel is loud, brash, and he doesn’t care about calling them out if they do something stupid. If you botch one goddamn move you better believe DC will roast the fuck out of you. You lose a match looking like a geek and hate it? Too goddamn bad, Danny Church knows full well you’re a NERD and you’ll never live it down.
But, he’s undeniably good at the job, and they actually take his ratings seriously. The few wrestlers that Danny fanboys about are quite fond of him, and he does a good podcast that wrestlers try to take advantage of. It can just be hard to deal with someone that’s going to call out every little mistake you make, even when it’s more blamed on the booking team than yourself.
He also has a tendency to post rumors about who’s going to win or lose a match, and rarely checks the validity of his source. Unlike his partner, Walter, Daniel Church is not a journalist. He’s angry millennial who thinks Roderick Quinn is ruining his goddamn favorite thing by blowing Drayden and giving him everything he asks for.
This doesn’t stop every member of the locker room from obsessively checking his reviews, though. Even Roddy does it.
|Other |
» 16a064
» Jensen Ackles. |
49,070 | 1,324 | 43 | 2,789 | 249 | Sexton P.S. Love
The Man They Call Love walked through the doors of the Golden 1 Center in Sacramento. He didn't enter through the front doors of course, but rather through the back (as was his specialty), where some marks had already started hanging around hoping to catch a glimpse of the wrestlers. As The Lovely One arrived, a few of the fans started yelling at him for autographs but Sexton politely flipped them off while continuing to knaw on an old piece of cajun chicken form the night before. Ragin' cajun chicken. In a few hours he would probably have the hot shits. Hopefully not while he was out in the ring.
Nobody wanted to see that again.
Last week, Sexton had main evented the show in a tournamnet match against Thunderbird. Originally, the ol' Birdie was gonna beat him with his finisher clean in the middle, but after evaluating the tournament bracket Sexton had lobbied for the roll-up finish they went with instead. It wasn't that Sexton had a problem putting over T-Bird's big move, it was that he wanted to do it at the right time. When it really meant something. He saw that Thunderbird was scheduled to be eliminated from the tournament in the next round, and this presented an opportunity.
Rather than simply having two talented wrestlers languishing without direction, The Love Machine pitched an angle to the head office for a long term feud between himself and the Bird. It seemed like a natural fit and would give both characters a clear direction. Sexton simply refused to go through the same motions week after week, and as a result was consistently involved in storylines and feuds. Sexton had no doubt in his mind that even with the ongoing World Title tournament, he could turn this feud with Thunderbird into the hottest thing on the show.
Things were really going to heat up tonight, as Sexton was going to cost Thunderbird his next tournament match and cut a scathing promo afterwards. He knew he didn't require that much TV time in order to be effective, but on this night he was particularly glad he wouldn't be out in the ring for a prolonged period due to the aforementioned cajun chicken currently gestating in his murky depths.
Sexton made his wall through the halls backstage, saying hello to some of the crew. On his way to the locker room he bumped into Owen Sparks, a young up-and-coming wrestler he had taken a liking to.
"Sparky baby!" said Sexton, clapping the young wrestler on his shoulder. "I saw your match last week at TV daddeh, and my heart damn near stopped! You were high spottin', hot shottin', elbow droppin', you did it ALL daddeh!"
In fairness, Owen's match probably had very little to do with any kind of cadiac problems Sexton may or may not have experienced. Nevertheless, he continued.
"You had a couple of close calls darlin', but by God you're one hell off an athlete. Glad to see they gave you the nod."
It was true, Sexton was pleased to see Owen Sparks get the win, if only because it meant they might be pushing a new babyface for the Sexcellence of Sexecution to eventually work with down the line.
"Just remember daddeh, you don't need to do too much out there. Save all that crazy stuff for the right moment, and make it feel special. If you do it at the right time, it'll mean so much more. Remember, it's just like kickin' it with a fat broad..."
Sexton took another bite off his chicken.
"...She might was to get all crazy, want you to throw her around. And by God daddeh, you might WANT to do it too. You might even be ABLE to do it. You just can't do it ALL THE TIME. It's dangerous. Your body can't take it. Eventually you'll crash and burn, daddeh. Even worse, you do it too damn much and she'll get bored of it, ya feel me? Make it a special occassion, darlin'. Make it special. Then when you put that big bitch in the air at the right moment...woooooo daddeh, then you know you did it right."
Satisfied with the wisdom of his analogy, Sexton clapped Owen on the shoulder again. He then noticed another wrestler down at the end of the hall. It was Oscar O'Sullivan, the "One and Only." Oscar also had a match last week.
"Oscar baby!," Sexton yelled, getting the Canadian's attention. "Saw your match last week too. That's a great finisher you got there, daddeh. That crucifix cutter..."
Sexton turned and began to walk away.
"Can't wait to kick out of it."
He started laughing to himself, and nearly choked to death on a piece of chicken. | Sexton P.S. LoveThe Sexcellence of Sexecution
6'4 - 269 lbs. | 10 years experience
|Hails From |
» Venice Beach, California
» July 29th 1988 (29)
|Fighting Style |
» Despite the flashy tights and flashy women, the Lovely One's in-ring style is anything but flashy. A true student of the game, Sexton Love has developed into a highly respected ring general, working an old school heel style. During a match, Sexton spends as much time focused on the women at ringside as he does on his opponent, and will frequently bail out of the ring to flex and pose in front of his female fans.
|Signature Moves |
» Sex Plex (Rolling German Suplex w/bridge)
» Piledriver
» Impale-Her DDT
» Massive Package (small package)
|Finisher |
» Sexecutor (Torture Rack Neckbreaker)
» Love Lock (Muta Lock)
|Theme |
»
|Gimmick |
» The Sexiest There Is, Sexiest There Was, and Sexiest There Ever Will Be...
Sexton P.S. (Purely Sex) Love is a sleazy, arrogant, womanizing heel with a seemingly endless stream of catchphrases. Sex sells, and nobody sells it better than Sexton Love. His main influences are Superstar Billy Graham, Macho Man Randy Savage, The Universal Hearthrob Austin Idol, and of course, Ravishing Rick Rude. Sexton Love is here to bring sexy BACK to American Wrestling Entertainment darlin', and become the new AWE World's Heavyweight Champion. He wants the title on his waist and the camera on his face daddeh, because whether you like it or not...SEX...SELLS!
|Face or Heel |
» HEEL
|Backstage Rep |
» Ask anyone in the wrestling business about Sexton Love, and they'll tell you the same thing: he lives his gimmick. His fans may be known as the "Sex Addicts," but in real life he is the one with the addiction. He goes out every night, in every town, and has established a network of devoted ring rats from coast to coast. "I'm the KING OF THE ROAD daddeh." His most important possession is his fanny pack, containing a Skittles-like cocktail of pain killers, Viagara, and natural male enhancement.
|Other |
» Face Claim: Michael P.S. Hayes |
49,071 | 1,324 | 44 | 2,573 | 1,662 | Collab with:
Sometime before Shock N AWE Sacramento...
The booking lads of the AWE always seemed to take the place over whenever they went to a hotel room. The bed was moved out of their way, and a whiteboard was hung on the wall, scribbled on by all three whenever they had a thought to add. Notepads and binders were strewn about the mattress, containing all their notes and plans for every member of the roster.
The coffee table was covered in empty pizza boxes. and empty cans of Red Bull. As far as the team was concerned, this was the sign of a night that went well. The hotel room they were in now was just a quickly converted ‘office,’ and as soon as they were truly done for the night, they’d disperse off to their own rooms.
There was one piece of pizza left, and Kevin wanted it. After all, he’d paid this time. Leaning forward, the head of the writing team picked up the final slice of pizza (meat lover’s, of course). He chomped down on it in the silence of the room, the first bout of silence they’d had all night. As Kevin chewed on the pizza, the group maintained their quiet composure, and when he took the last bite, and swallowed down the last chunk of crust, Kevin looked up at the ceiling and finally spoke.
“Dude this guy is like impossible to find. I don’t know how he managed to be at the arena the whole fucking time and we didn’t see him ONCE. Caiden Winters is a goddamn master of espionage. So here’s the plan: we’re going to each get to the arena for next week’s Shock N AWE, like a few hours early, and camp out at the entrances. He doesn’t get in, without one of us catching him. Got it? JP, that means you can’t go hunting for Morgana so you can stare at her. This is important! The dude is legit getting upset because he thinks we don’t have any direction for him… Because he’s never around for us to tell him the plan!”
Gary nodded, a can of iced espresso in the caffeine fiend’s hand, but then a thought came to him. "Wait, how much earlier?” he asked.
"I don’t go actively looking for her!” JP protested before downing the last red bull and throwing it with Michael Jordan-esc precision into the trash. “If I just so happen to find her and look at her longingly and with love I can’t exactly help that can I? The heart wants what the heart wants...oh someone write that shit down, we could use that for any future romance angles...where’s my damn pen?!” Leaning back, he almost took a tumble trying to find his lost pen. Grabbing it from the floor, he quickly scribbled in his notepad before looking at the other two. "What were we talking about?...oh right yeah, sure I agree. Get Caiden before he gets in the building. I’m on board with that.”
“Focus, JP, FOCUS. Gary, I’m talkin’ like at least two hours before the show starts. It’s important we talk to him before we relive the Twitter incident of last year, followed by the Caiden and Roddy screaming match. Look, Caiden’s great, but we gotta help him realize that he’s not gonna get wasted by us… the last writing squad really fucked him.” Kevin explained, looking between both of his friends, “this is do or die, lads.”
"Sure, Two hours is fine. So when we meet him, do we all meet up, or does whoever meet him explain the plan? I feel like it should be the former," Gary mused, finishing his coffee and grabbing another red bull.
JP moved forward on the bed, scribbling a couple of more notes. "We get it, Kev. We don’t do this we lose Caiden back to Japan. I’m calling it, the book for Caiden Winters is closed and locked. We have a plan for him, we stick with it, we give this bubba a world title and the Wrestling Journal calls us mother chucking geniuses and the heroes of the new era of pro wrestling.” Glancing at his watch, the adorkable one decided to close up his notes and start grabbing up all of his stuff. "Right, we should get going. Early start tomorrow if we’re going to beat CW to the arena.”
“And maybe, JUST MAYBE, Danny Church will stop demanding we burn at the stake. Alright, I will see you guys at the arena. In the morning.” Kevin pushed his chair back away from the table, and stood up. Heading toward the door, he added. “hey, if this works, I’ll have Claire put in a good word with Morgana for you, JP. Get it in, brother.” Kevin winked at his friend, but was out the door too fast for JP to reply.
The next day, at the Golden 1 Center...
Caiden Everett was surrounded by three people who were out of their goddamn minds. Who taught these men to speak like this? Did they know how to take turns? From what he’d gathered from their rambling, they actually had a plan for him, which was surprising to begin with… even more surprising? He was going fucking over. That was the only thing he’d gotten out of them, but no clarity.
Because they didn’t talk one at a time.
“SHUT UP. One at time! Go in a circle, fucking hell. How am I supposed to understand what you’re saying if you guys talk over each other endlessly!? Christ, it’s like talking to a bunch of children.”
JP leaned back in his chair and threw the empty breakfast bar wrapper into the nearby trash can before returning his attention to the mega star that sat opposite him and his good brothers. Swallowing down the last of his mid day snack, he began. "We get it, Caiden, you’re pissed because you think we haven’t been doing anything with you. Did you not hesitate to think maybe that was by design? A ploy by us to get you good and mad?” The adorkable one glanced over at his colleagues before carrying on. "I’ll put it bluntly; we have a plan for you my friend, a damn good one if I do say so myself. You are going over, CW. Not only that, by the end of this, you’re gonna be champ and you’re gonna have the best match in AWE history.”
"Of course, we could have told you this a lot earlier if you hadn’t gone into hiding since two weeks ago…” muttered Gary, who was stationed besides the door because Caiden admittedly made him nervous.
“Look, man. You drive things with your emotions, right? Well, we want this to be as real as possible. So channel how you felt about the company up till this point into your promos, your ring work. Make it seem real. Be passionate. That segment with Joy on Aftershock? That’s what we want. Don’t worry about what goes on outside of the company, we’ll handle blurring the lines as far as everything in the real world goes. People need to get worked by this — and they will. By the end of it, they’ll be wondering… is he really going to leave with the title? Did he go into business for himself? Gonna be great. Now, for the love of God… please don’t avoid us in the future, man.” Kevin suggested, dropping back the rest of a can of Red Bull as Caiden leaned back in the chair and looked up at the ceiling, lips slowly curling into a smile.
“Alright. Let’s see what I can do here. You’re giving me the opportunity I’ve been waiting my whole tenure here for, and I’d be stupid if I didn’t grab what’s being laid out for me, and made the most of it. I give you my word, this will be the best angle in the history of professional wrestling, not just the AWE.”
“Cheers.” | Daniel “DC” “Don’t Call Me Danny” “Danny” “Danny Church” Church
6’ - 184 lbs | 12
|Birth Name |
» Daniel Church
|Hails From |
» Sacramento, California
» October 9th, 1985 (31)
|Job at AWE |
» He does not work at AWE. However, he is often at their events and is friends with more than a few wrestlers and backstage employees. He is a wrestling journalist and posts stories as they come and go, and reviews the shows and matches. He reacts accordingly based on how he feels the company is performing, and has no qualms calling out a wrestler or wrestlers for having a shit match, cutting a shit promo, or calling out the powers that be for making their fucking look like goddamn geeks.
|Skills |
» Smooth talking
» Tech savvy
» Dadskills
» Radio host-esque silky smooth voice
» Good at ranting
|Reason for being here |
» When he was younger, in 2001, Daniel Church had a brilliant idea in his school computers class: he’d build a fucking website. Now, the first thing you had to do when building a website, was pick something you were passionate about… at the time, Danny Church was only really passionate about one thing: PROFESSIONAL WRESTLING. Even at the young age of fifteen, DC had a brilliant mind for coding and built a website that was grand, even for the times. It gained a following, and the forums on it exploded in popularity as the tape traders and more hardcore fans finally found a place to talk and get their opinions out there.
The Smark Remark, the website is known as, and it’s only grown since its original inception in mid-2001. Danny made friends with the right people, and after high school, he passed the day-to-day management of the website over to a team of administrators and moderators. The man himself began a focus on the content creation for the website. He hosted podcasts with wrestlers from all over the world, and he began to rate matches.
Every show he saw, either live or on a tape he bought, he rated the match. Over time, his ratings and opinions got a little controversial, with people arguing about whether he was right or wrong, but he there was one thing they agreed on: he was consistent. He also wrote reports on rumors that he heard, and posted opinions and frequently participated in conversations on the message boards.
Four years after graduating, when Danny was 22, his then girlfriend, Clarissa Whitaker, gave birth to his two beautiful children. Twins, a boy and a girl. Robert and Cynthia, Bobby and Cyn. His babies and his life — other than work. They are turning ten in January of next year, and attend an online school to make it easier on Daniel to travel around for his job. They haven’t seen their mother since they were two; as it turns out, their mother was… crazy, to say the least. After Daniel discovered her drug habits and realized she was a poison in his life, he cut her out and got full custody of his children.
Since then, the single dad life has been the life for him. Working and taking care of two rascals isn’t exactly the easiest lot in life, but… he makes it work. When he was called up by Walter Durrel, who proposed combining their two mediums a few years ago, DC jumped on the opportunity. Together now, they put out podcasts reviewing AWE mostly, as that’s Walter’s preferred company. In return, Danny Church offers the Smark Remark’s website as a new home for the Wrestling Journal. They make a surprisingly good team so far.
|Looks & Style |
» Decked out from head to toe in wrestling gear, Danny doesn’t give a FUCK about how people think of him in public. He’s a hardworking single father, get bent. He’ll sometimes match or contradict his children when they go to the shows — both of his kids are huge fans too.
|Personality Traits |
» Danny is brutal and quick to be critical. He doesn’t listen to the reasons for things sucking and just accepts that they suck. If a wrestler isn’t working at their full capacity because of injuries? Whatever, stop fucking working. Utilize your roster, people.
He’s fun to talk to, and is good at telling stories and ranting and making other people who agree with him happy. He often gets into long winded debates on his podcast with Walter, but as a person Danny honestly looks forward to it every night.
Deep down, he’s just a mark, dude. He loves wrestling, everything about it from the ground up is amazing, and he can’t get enough. The fact that he built something great out of his love for wrestling amazes him to this day, and the Smark Remark is his baby. He enjoys posting on the message boards to this day, and recording the weekly podcasts is something he lovingly looks forward to every day.
It’s his second baby, the thing he loves most right behind his children.
|Favorite wrestler |
» Caiden goddamn fucking Winters, fuck you Roddy for burying the best wrestler to ever grace this goddamn planet. And Retribution. Excited for him to come, which I'M SURE HE'LL DO EVENTUALLY ONCE RODERICK QUINN PULLS HIS HEAD OUT OF HIS FUCKING ASS. Gethin's a personal favorite too, at least he gets used properly by those idiots.
And fuck you Drayden, I bet you encouraged that shit, didn’t you? Gotta GO OVER EVERYONE. Asshole. And of course, my fucking kid loves you so I have all that stupid merchandise in my fucking HOUSE.
Trinity’s cool too.
And Morgana.
What? I can’t hate the kids’s favorites, I’d be an asshole.
Except for Drayden. Fuck you. And fuck your stupid fat head wall stickers, now you’re stuck to the goddamn wall behind my FUCKING COUCH.
|Rep at AWE |
» Honestly, most people at the AWE don’t really like him. Daniel is loud, brash, and he doesn’t care about calling them out if they do something stupid. If you botch one goddamn move you better believe DC will roast the fuck out of you. You lose a match looking like a geek and hate it? Too goddamn bad, Danny Church knows full well you’re a NERD and you’ll never live it down.
But, he’s undeniably good at the job, and they actually take his ratings seriously. The few wrestlers that Danny fanboys about are quite fond of him, and he does a good podcast that wrestlers try to take advantage of. It can just be hard to deal with someone that’s going to call out every little mistake you make, even when it’s more blamed on the booking team than yourself.
He also has a tendency to post rumors about who’s going to win or lose a match, and rarely checks the validity of his source. Unlike his partner, Walter, Daniel Church is not a journalist. He’s angry millennial who thinks Roderick Quinn is ruining his goddamn favorite thing by blowing Drayden and giving him everything he asks for.
This doesn’t stop every member of the locker room from obsessively checking his reviews, though. Even Roddy does it.
|Other |
» 16a064
» Jensen Ackles. |
49,072 | 1,324 | 45 | 2,297 | 115 | “Mr. Harvey, I'm going to be completely honest with you.” Alexandra's voice came out sharper than she intended, but she was tired, and this call had gone on long enough. “I have no intention of letting any of the AWE wrestlers onto your show. I've listened to your radio show, I've watched your youtube videos. You're condescending, and you go for audience shock value. Everyone I have spoken to says you go completely off script and are unreliable. I'm here to help the reputation of the talent I represent, and putting anyone on your show will only hurt it.”
Alexandra's statement was met by grumbling that she was sure was supposed to be tough and convincing, but it only served to annoy her further. She had just traveled from Connecticut to California, spending any moment she wasn't sleeping putting out the latest AWE PR fires. On top of that, her bag was full of files on the talent that was coming and going from the AWE rosters, and she barely had time to go over it. One new member coming from Japan already seemed like he was going to be a handful, and she wasn't looking forward to it.
Alex wasn't supposed to have to travel with the wrestlers, but Drayden had to relinquish his title, and everything went to shit from there. Put a bunch of hot heads on a bus, and chaos ensues. Caiden Winters was shaping up to be a particular thorn in her side, and if she got one more report of a certain wrestler washing down pills with booze she was going to lose it. With one problem following another, Alex got called onto the road. Sure, she had made the trip on a private jet, but the travel was unplanned and it pissed her off.
She didn't mind traveling, loved it actually. But she was a woman who planned things out and this was very much not planned. Luckily, her new intern that would be starting in a few weeks had also agreed to the sudden travel plans and would be joining her soon.
Alexandra pulled open the backstage doors to the arena, not missing a step as her black heels transitioned from one surface to the next. Her floral skirt swished delicately around her knees as she walked, taking in her surroundings as she went. Although she was of similar height to some of the smaller female wrestlers, with her plain black shirt and minimal makeup, no one would mistake her for a member of the wrestling team. Everyone let her pass by without question, as it was obvious to even those that did not know her that Alex belonged at the arena.
Over the din of the backstage commotion, Alex became aware of another incessant buzzing sound. She was still on the phone with Sam Harvey, sleazeball on air radio personality. He had been pestering her for far too long about getting some of the talent from AWE to go on his radio show. Not. A. Chance.
“I'm going to say this one more time, and slowly, Sam.” Alex said, done with formalities at this point in the conversation. Pausing to wave at some of the crew members as they passed her by, she stepped off to the side to check her watch, making sure she was out of the way of crew. “I have a lot of friends in this business. A lot of them are even outside of AWE. There is a reason I made it into my current position so quickly. A lot of people owe me favors, and I will be sure to call in all of them just to make your life hell. Goodbye Sam.”
With those final words, she hung up her phone, shoved it in her bag and ran a hand through her mahogany waves of hair, lamenting over not having time to get it cut before hitting the road. Almost immediately her phone began to ring again. With a muttered curse, Alex plucked the phone from her bag, completely prepared to engage in battle with Mr.Harvey again. Already she knew exactly who should plead a favor from to really put a wrench in his career.
One look at the caller I.D had Lex throwing her phone back in her bag. Obnoxious radio show hosts she could handle. Her mother was a different story. No, that call was going to voice mail. | Alexandra WilliamsAWE would be lost without me
5'4” - 125lbs | 4 Years
|Birth Name |
» Alexandra Marie Williams
|Hails From |
» Austin, Texas
» BIRTHDAY & AGE; October 13, 1990 (26)
|Job at AWE |
» Public Relations
|Skills |
» Attention to detail, intense focus, powers of persuasion and when it calls for it, manipulation.
|Reason for being here |
» Alex got hired by AWE as a PR intern directly after graduating top of her class at University of Texas. The job paid well, so she figured she would hang out, pay her dues and then move on. Turns out, Alex was better at her job then even she expected. Her reputation for being a “real go getter and ball buster” propelled her into the lead PR position, and Alex found herself still attached to the AWE brand, 5 years later.
|Looks & Style |
» Alexandra's style is professional, yet feminine. If she is on the job (whether that be backstage or at her desk) Alex can usually be found wearing work appropriate dresses or skirt suits. While not at work, Alex prefers soft and flowing fabrics over skin tight outfits. Her hair is normally styled into soft waves, and her makeup is always understated to highlight her natural beauty.
|Personality Traits |
» Alex is strong willed and stubborn, and when she get's an idea into her head, she locks onto it. If you are opposing her, she will wear you down until you finally bend to her will. If you still refuse, she will move onto a direct personal assault, going right for the metaphorical jugular. Alexandra has ruined a few careers on her way to the top, and doesn't regret it a bit.
Speaking of ruining careers, her attitude has nearly ruined hers a few times. Alex has no problem voicing her opinion to her higher ups if she thinks they are making a mistake. This has gotten her a bit of a reputation for having a bit of a problem with authority. However, if she is wrong, she does know when to back off and apologize. Alex has been told more than once that she is lucky she is so damn good at her job.
Despite being a little overly vocal at times, most people who know Alex would also say she is quite even keeled. It takes a lot to rattle her, and she isn't easily intimidated by neither physical size nor industry clout. This helps her out with a lot of the male wrestlers, who have tried to rattle her cage for fun.
Above all else, Alex is dedicated to her job maintaining the image of the AWE brand. She has found enjoyment in the back and forth with other PR specialists in the field, and (mostly) enjoys the banter with the talent.
Oh, and she loves drinking wine. Seriously. Coffee helps her survive her days, but settling down with a glass of wine at night is what makes everything possible.
|Favorite wrestler |
» Whichever one isn't giving her a headache that day.
|Rep at AWE |
» Alexandra might be small, but she can (and will) go toe to toe with anyone threatening the integrity of AWE. She is known to be very serious about her job, and it is hard to get her to think about anything other than that. Because of her dedication to work, her social life has taken a back seat to AWE.
|Other |
» Despite being a little rough around the edges, Alex is actually a sweet girl if you don't give her a reason not to be.
» Sophia Bush F08080 |
49,073 | 1,324 | 46 | 2,180 | 2,019 | Oscar turned when he heard his name being called. It was Sexton, in much better condition this week, probably due to having matches and promos to do now. There was nothing wrong with drinking on your time off. Oscar was a bit of a beer fan himself. He didn't even judge anyone for drug usage even though he'd never done that himself, but from when the came into the venue, to when they left, they ought to be clean, and professional at all times.
Despite this, Oscar had a lot of respect for the fellow veteran. He was no slouch in the ring, and he might even surpass Oscar in the ability to cut a promo, work the crowd and make stars out of his opponents. 'Might' was the key word there. Oscar didn't like to stroke his own ego but knowing what you're great at is just as important as knowing what you're bad at in his opinion.
"That's not my finisher," he answered back, "though...I might start using it more. The knee drop fake-out's lost its heel heat. I would enjoy a match with you, though, when your program ends. Think of the promos! See you around, Sexton!"
Oscar continued walking to nowhere in particular. It's as if he was patrolling the backstage area like a sheriff, making sure the superstars were all in line. | is no monster under your bed, because I'm right here.
6”8 – 130kg| Eight Years Of Experience
|Birth Name |
»Andrew Gosforth
|Hails From |
»Paisley, Scotland
»April 7th, 1986 (31)
|Fighting Style |
» Hector is a large man, and as such has a large arsenal of power moves, but what sets him apart from other powerhouses is his in-ring psychology, mindgames and theatrics. In his gimmick’s newest incarnation, will sometimes hurt himself just to unnerve his opponent, as well as relish in the pain of his opponent instead of fighting to win quickly. A Hector match can be an uncomfortable watch, and sometimes won’t even feel PG even though it breaks no rules.
|Signature Moves |
» Daddy’s Awake (Spear/Double Leg Takedown hybrid with theatrics)
» Nightmare Drop
» Chokeslam Backbreaker
» Lifting Spinebuster
|Finisher |
» Straightjacket Neckbreaker
» Dreamcatcher
|Theme |
» Old Theme:
» New Theme:
|Backstage Rep |
»’Hector’ had enjoyed success as a big guy with the gimmick of an insane slasher villain, though this translated to cheesy effects, mind games and blackout attacks every other week. He was never a world champion though he did briefly hold the IC belt, and had an upper-card feud with Drayden during one of the rare instances when he wasn’t champion or challenging for the championship. This all came to an end over a year ago when Andrew had to go through a messy divorce, and took time off to return to Scotland and deal with that. He was written off TV by being set of fire from one of the chemicals of Dr. Sinister off the back of a feud with The creation, and then he was gone.
Several months ago, he came back for training, and to people’s surprise, it’s as if he was never gone. She’s the same old chatty, friendly big scot who enjoys a drink, and he had very little ring rust. He fell back into place in the AWE machine and is now ready to return to the ring, though his debut is still being held off until after the tournament. Personally, Andrew isn’t sure his character still fits in with an industry that’s gearing towards a more realistic, MMA style populated by small, fast guys with realistic names and characters, or maybe that just means he’s needed more than ever.
|Gimmick |
» Hector’s new gimmick is far more genuinely scary and intense than his old one. He is now a deranged psychopath, and even though there are still blackout attacks and lighting effects, Hector is framed less of a supernatural monster than he was in his previous run and far more of an ordinary albeit twisted and deranged human, and therefore all the more unsettling for it, as he seems real now. He will wear creepy masks, give nonsensical promos that make the interviewer uncomfortable, stalk his feuding opponents backstage in skits and during their promos, ect. His mindgames are a thing of beauty now. Rather than before, where every opponent would get the same thing (dolls, abandoned asylums, little girls), now each feud’s mindgames are tailored towards the fears and insecurities of his opponents and a big deal will be made of him getting inside their heads.
|Face or Heel |
» Indiscriminate Heel
|Other |
» Face Claim – Rory McCann |
49,074 | 1,324 | 47 | 1,435 | 3,654 | Collab with
Sydney Ellis
vs.
Morgana
Dawn was standing behind the curtain, glad that this week she was fighting another match finally. Last week she had to give not one, but two nerve-wracking promos. The reception was surprisingly positive, but that just brought more problems. Now people wanted to see her on the mic more, and she was still not comfortable getting in front of that many people and impersonating her drill sergeant, but she had to. She had to get used to this, and better at this, and develop into her own voice, and all before the Requiem Pay-Per-View. Even if she won the championship eventually, giving an impassioned promo at Wembley will be hard to hop as the highlight of her career.
The stage crew started counting down, and she put her cap on. Her ring gear this time was arctic camo. It was decided that would be the best contrast to Morgana’s black ensemble. It was time to make her entrance in 3...2...1…
The three month-young ring announcer, Vivi, strutted around the ring, wearing red heels and the most divine, form-fitting black dress. Bringing the mic to her lips, the young beaut gave a pleasant grin and an enticing stare, before unleashing her melting chocolate voice to the AWE crowd, “The following match is scheduled for one fall, introducing first, from Birmingham, England, a woman on a warpath, standing at 5’8”, and weighing 140 lbs--” Her head turned toward the entrance ramp and with booming enthusiasm, Vivi cheered, “--SYDNEY ELLIS!”
As soon as her music hit and she started marching down the ramp, Sydney Ellis noticed that, instead of the mixed, lukewarm reaction of two weeks ago, she was...being cheered passionately by a good deal of the audience, and booed just as passionately by another portion, mostly Morgana fans. She slid into the ring, threw off her cap, and began stretching with the ropes.
“Ladies and gentlemen. Introducing from Fairfield, Connecticut, standing at 5’8” and weighing 120 lbs -- this woman would like to be announced as the true sovereign of the woman’s division, MORGANAAAAAA!”
The serpent of a woman was darkly clad, as per usual, and adorned with leather. Her skin was ghastly pale and shined with white glitter to give her complexion a flawless, porcelain tone. As distant as Mileena was backstage, the moment her costume was on and the screech resonated throughout the arena, Morgana took control of the surprisingly introverted woman and was nothing but ready to put on a good show.
“Wade, Marcus. Y’know what my dream is? Seeing this woman, right here, with her father on that ring, or any ring for that matter. Her promo got me so hyped. For what? For LIES. ” Kane grumbled into his mic. The Faceless’ return was all a true heel fanboy ever wanted. “Sydney Ellis is going to keep this short and clean. End it with a Jackhammer. For all my broken dreams.”
Like her father, Morgana’s act was great for storytelling. Easily manipulated to make her coworkers, wrestlers that work as hard as she has, get the praise they deserve. The strobing lights went off and in a matter of seconds, Morgana appeared at the top of the ramp. Not walked but appeared, as if she was the magical creature that everyone believed her to be, able to cross the distance by dematerializing and rematerializing in and out of existence. When the music shifted to the guitar rift, her body as still as a frozen corpse, the devilish smirk wildly grew on her eerie face, turning her into a vindictive menace, while she methodically rose her palms up in a cultist praise.
Her first moments were dedicated to her twirling her body, her long, pink hair flowing within the air. With swift, yet prominent, movements, Morgana hyped the crowd using her undeniable charisma as a weapon and then strided down the pathway. The floor burning behind her with every step. Her icy gaze met the face of the ‘Nobody’, as Barbie put it earlier this evening, in the ring preparing to duel her. The Nobody who wanted to get involved in the witch’s cobwebs and lies.
The more Morgana associated herself with her enemies, the more she took in. The way they were, their tricks, their triggers, their… transitory nature… they simply gave her an advantage of hurting them from the inside out. Perhaps not today, but Morgana never forgot what was and has been done to her. She never forgets. She made a promise to herself a long time ago that she would make anyone who dared defy her, suffer. Getting underneath their skin was only the first thing she would do to be that burden they could not bare. She was the devil within. If there was one thing the sorceress did to those who diminished her worth and expected her to respect them, most not even bothering to see if she needed a favor done or two, not even trying to befriend her, well, then she would make their nightmares, her dreams.
Worst than her father, the epitome of a monster, could ever be. The devil tipped his hat to her, as she collected the tears of those she despised as pay. A damned soul. A soldier like Sydney Ellis, but with different means, different methods, and different allegiances. In the ring now, standing on the ropes, she pointed toward her screaming fans and yelled, “Is that all you got?!” This caused the volume to rise another octave. Years of experience shined through Mileena’s performance. Blood, sweat, pain, pain, a lot of pain, since she was a child. This was her passion. Her life. She loved wrestling.
Soon enough, the ‘deadly nightshade’ crept on her side of the ring waiting for the match to begin.
Ding, ding, ding.
“And we’re off to the races, I guess we’ll see if your prediction rings true. I don’t know who’s going to win, but I do know that the fans are going to get to see a great performance from two fine athletes tonight.”
“And whoever wins tonight gets to compete with Barbie for the title, so I expect this match to be vicious. Bring out your inner demons, girls!”
Once the bell signaled off, the sorceress slithered out of the ring with agile speed and hardly any effort. Sydney leered at Morgana as she left the ring for a split second, before rolling out and giving chase around the outside. She wanted as much blood as the crowd did, and there was no way that she was going to let the gothic wrestler escape.
Of course, who said Morgana was trying to ‘escape’? If anything, the white soldier was the insect navigating toward her trap, mesmerized by the desire to hurt her, which ultimately put her in a position where the witch could…
As sudden as Morgana exited the ring, she slipped back in and charged toward the area where Sydney was en route to. Perks of being the faster one of the two. Grabbing onto the top rope, she swung her legs through the gap between the mid and bottom ropes, her aim was sharp like a razor edge, her legs flew over the apron, and went right where she wanted it to hit. Sydney’s head. With Sydney Ellis prone on the ground, all the audience needed to do was blink and the next thing they knew, the goth wrestler was by the brute of the woman looking like a hungry psychopath. There was no hesitation in Morgana’s next actions. Picking Sydney’s face up, by her hair, the spiteful fighter chuckled to herself before smashing it into the ground. Again and again.
How’s your face?
“Vicious tactics. Say what you will about the AWE women’s personalities — and there is a lot to say on that front — but there’s certainly no denying that they all know how to fight.”
Tsk. A grimace appeared in Morgana’s expression as she thought about Sydney Ellis interrupting her promo. When Morgana was satisfied with the merciless floor kisses she was giving her dear opponent (as far as Mileena and Dawn were concerned, it was a perfect illusion), the countdown had started where Sydney Ellis needed to get thrown back into the ring. The spawn of satan aggressively pulled the bitch up and like the good samaritan that she was, Morgana shoved the Nobody’s ass back into the ring and followed behind, gliding onto the stage. Her stage, where she was the star.
To make sure the blonde wasn’t going anywhere, Morgana bounded highly in the air, using nothing but the strength in her jump and the short distance between her and Sydney. Swiftly, urgently, her elbow dropped into the other wrestler’s abdominal.
Not stopping for anyone, it was time for her version of the Sharpshooter. No Pain, No Game. Picking herself up, murder written all over her pale face, Morgana looked down at her opponent who was supine on the mat, seeing nothing but stars. Stepping between Sydney’s legs, with her left, she wrapped the soldier’s legs at shin level around her own, roughly. No remorse. Only pain and suffering.
Can you feel it, now? Do you see why I’m where I am today? Why I’m NOT my father’s shadow?!
Keeping her darling ‘partner’ in place, the wicked lady stepped over the leg she had caught in a grab and flipped the blonde over into a painful submission. Sydney Ellis was back to lying face downward, while the dark mistress sent venomous stings to the blonde’s lower back.
Fucking blondes. Just another form of plastic.
Sydney gritted her teeth, and thrashed around in the hold, silently yet wildly selling the great pain that the hold was inflicting on her. She went still, and was squeezing her right arm with her left hand. Finally a mini-victory for Morgana as the powerhouse yelled out in pain.
“There’s the hold that we’ve seen so many times in the past. It’s won so many battles in the past, maybe it’ll clinch the victory here.”
“All Morgana wants is to go back to the time where she had it all. But that’s the thing, time’s a changin and like you said earlier, the women’s division is thriving with talented wrestlers. Hungry for the spotlight.”
A few seconds later, Sydney put both hands to the mat, and started to slowly and agonizingly lift her upper body up, then she took one hand away, and in one swift motion, with a quick burst of strength, reared up, reached back and grabbed Morgana’s face with her hand, before pulling her back so that her other hand could reach her, and falling front-first back to the mat, applied a crossface to the painfully bent back Morgana. They now both had each other in submission holds!
“And just like that, Sydney is back in the fight! This is what I love about this business, anything can happen and it only takes one second for the momentum in a fight to shift — or in this case, for an unstoppable force to meet an immovable object.”
“I’m on the edge of my seat. Who knows who’s going to win?! These girls are too damn good.” Kane couldn’t contain his marking out.
After a brief, painful stalemate, Morgana let go, her face tinted red from the pressure, as did Sydney, and they rolled away from each other, getting back to their feet. Sydney then adopted an MMA stance, and advanced on the taller (by centimeters) yet not as muscular woman. She threw a jab or two, which Morgana dodged, followed by a few legsweep attempts, which were also overcome, though they had the effect of keeping Morgana on the defensive.
Unfortunately for the snake, dodging Sydney Ellis didn’t last as long as she would have wanted it to. The army girl feinted to the right and smacked Morgana with a hard left, flooring her. (It didn’t actually connect. Dawn was trying to be careful about that after all the bruises she was responsible for two weeks ago.)
"And just like that, the unstoppable force has moved the immovable object!”
With both arms, Sydney then picked the prone wrestler up and put her over her shoulder. She charged to one of the corners, ramming her into it with all her might, then turned and did the same with the opposite one, before jerking Morgana up onto her shoulders and leaving her there for a while as she played the crowd a little, strutting around and flexing. Sydney then slammed her hard to the ground, and tried for a cover. 1...2. Kickout at 2. It wasn’t even a close 2 count. Of course it wasn’t going to be that easy to put away the former women’s champion. Lifting Morgana to her feet with one hand, she then flung her into the ropes, waiting for her to come back, her arm ready for a devastating clothesline.
Morgana may have not been as chiseled as the powerhouse waiting to knock her over with her arm, but she was one of the most ruthless competitors on the AWE roster today. Never losing her affinity for physical torture, the perplexing enigma that was Morgana ricocheted off the ropes, evaded the clothesline, and allowed herself to be the David in David and Goliath.
"Effortless movement from Morgana, just like gravity forgot her. She never fails to impress with how easily she can move her body!”
“Both women are terrifying in their own way and you have to expect neither of them are going to let this opportunity slip out of their hands. I want to play this back in slow motion just to see how flawless Morgana’s moves are.”
Effortlessly to the crowd’s eye, Morgana threw herself onto her foe’s body, hugging her legs around Sydney’s neck. After twisting and flying on all sides of the powerhouse until her right leg naturally hooked over Sydney’s left, she trapped the blonde’s arm within her own. The enchantress used her left leg, which had already been draped over the soldier's neck, to force Sydney down to one side. This was her version of the Octopus hold. One of her remarkable finishers, a torso-twisting submission maneuver, the Anaconda squeeze. Anacondas hunt for a variety of prey, under the cover of darkness. They lurk in the murky waters, waiting for a prey to give them the opportunity to attack. Sydney Ellis was caught in Morgana’s restrain. Trapped. The former champion applied her constrictive technique to finish her prey off.
"Another submission hold from AWE’s wicked witch of the east! The military conditioning that Sydney has is surely coming into play here to keep her from tapping out immediately! It takes a lot of heart, a lot of guts, and a lot of pride to not submit when the hold is locked in like that, twisting and squeezing the life out of you — a snake looking to finish off her prey.”
“The best option for the soldier is to batter Morgana until she releases her! Children, don’t go playing with snakes now.”
In response, Sydney fell to one knee, arms shaking as she’s caught in her second submission of the night from Morgana. She roared loudly, trying to get her adrenaline pumping, while riling herself up, and then forced herself off her knee, returning to a stand. After a few more seconds of enduring the pain and gathering her strength, she grabbed Morgana’s body with both hands and charged straight for the turnbuckles, ramming her against them hard and forcing her to relinquish her grip. With Sydney free, and Morgana in the corner, the powerhouse started delivering stiff lariat after stiff lariat to the dazed goth.
Was this the end for the witch?
“Right here, right now in the corner of the AWE ring, we’re watching a witch be burned at the stake!”
The entire arena promptly went black and a compilation of noises could be heard causing the audience to go in an uproar. Wind chimes, children laughter, little girls chanting ‘ashes, ashes, they all fell down’, spine-chilling wind, and a distant, ominous piano… the she-devil was forming her next attack.
"What’s this?”
While the piano still played, but the lights flashed on, Morgana was now behind the woman who thought she was more worth fighting Barbie than she. A woman who DARED defy her. Her head was tilted and her deep, frost eyes were crazed, but what really got the crowd going was the sinister serpent had a chair in her hands and her shallow smile betrayed all innocence. The referee, however, had vanished entirely.
"Oh no, not like this! Where’s the ref!? There needs to be a stop to this before it gets out of hand! Get another referee out here to stop this!”
“Jesus. This is why you don’t mess with witches! They got supernatural powers that’ll change the whole game.”
Murder was an understatement of what Morgana wanted. With utmost force, the pink haired wrestler collided the chair with the back of Sydney’s body. Smash after smash after smash. Where was her heart? Out for blood, no longer was her sight on the reward. She wanted Sydney Ellis to regret ever stepping out of line. Soldiers were pawns, not leaders.
Climb, soldier.
"Again and again with the chair! Have you no heart, Morgana?! Have you no sense of honor!? No soul!?”
“I’m pretty sure witches sell their soul for their power…”
Breathing heavily, the sound effects coming to a close, this match definitely putting the heartless woman through one hell of an exhausting battle, Morgana tossed the chair out of the ring. Sydney was back on the floor, in massive amount of pain. Running her hand through her long, pink locks, closing her eyes to take a moment to breath in the mystic air around her, Morgana relished in the crowd’s cheers, roars, screams… the heat. Snapping her eyes back open, she returned to her opponent’s side and went to pick her up to finish this match once and for all. Meanwhile, a second referee had rushingly made their way to the ring and slid through the ropes.
"Here comes another official! Surely this is the end for Sydney.”
Before the goth wrestler could lay another attack on her, Sydney knocked away the hands that were pulling her up. Grabbing Morgana’s head, she hit her with a BFT, sending Morgana reeling.
"Sydney is getting back control, and dammit she deserves it after that despicable act from the wicked bitch of the AWE! Take over Sydney! Put her down!”
Back on her feet, and back in control, Sydney swooped down and lifted Morgana up into a Gorilla Press, before simply dropping her and letting her fall over five feet to the canvas. In a strangely uncharacteristic move, the blonde powerhouse then pointed her finger to the sky in a odd fluid and sensual motion for the military punk, that was instantly recognizable as one of Barbie’s taunts, and to complement this, she grabbed Morgana’s leg, and applied the winding and twisting hold that was equally recognisable as Barbie’s signature submission; Legally Blonde.
"That’s Barbie’s move! Is Sydney going to send a message to the women’s champion by finishing off her greatest rival with her own MOVE?”
“Oh dude, I can’t even handle this right now. It’s so weird seeing Sydney Ellis pull a Barbie. Man, I thought the match would end with a Jackhammer. But who knows?! Morgana could have more fight in her left and the Legally Blonde will not be the way she goes... again!”
Not only was Morgana stunned by this, but she was in absolute, excruciating pain and it showed in her face. Every attempt she did to try to escape only failed and reluctantly she tried to tap out. She had to. And yet, Sydney saw the hand about to tap out and forcefully grabbed it, before immediately releasing the hold and shaking her head.
Not like this.
She’s not going to win like this. Pulling Morgana up by her arm, she threw it over her shoulder, lifting Morgana up in a perfect vertical line, and delivered a devastating Jackhammer!
"Stick a fork in Morgana, she’s done.”
She makes the cover. 1...2...3!
"And just like that, we have a new number one contender! If you ask me, Barbie had better watch her back, because her perfect queendom has never been in more danger than it is right now.”
“RIP Morgana.”
The bell rang, and Sydney stood up, no longer looking at Morgana, as if, now that she has been conquered, the goth no longer existed. She let the ref raise her hand, then rolled out the ring, retrieving her cap. With nothing left to be said or proved, she marched back up the ramp to the sound of a deafening, mixed reaction. Finally, Dawn thought. She was making some waves! | I see you!
The best things in life are dangerous, like me.
5' ¾", 106 lbs - 5'8", 135 lbs
2 years Developmental, will debut soon with her husband
3 Years at AWE, 2 years at Developmental. 5 years total.
|Birth Name |
» Alice Jane Slayer (Kennedy)
» Ariel Michelle Slayer (Flanagan)
|Hails From |
» Atlanta, GA
» April 17 (26)
» October 22 (23)
|Backstage Rep |
» You got all these sweethearts dressed as bitches, guess what? Ari is a fucking bitch on and off the ring. She does not like you. It takes her a LONG time to accept you into her world because your flaws are blaring red and she fucking hates it. Some people do not get the concept of personal space. If she's doing her own thing, don't interrupt her. She enjoys dark humor, other people's drama, and crude people. Constantly observing her surroundings, she will size you up before you approach her. Ruthless. Entitled. & Impatient. She was never fond of dealing with people, which is honestly her biggest weakness on the ring. Charisma, that is. It isn't something that comes naturally to her like it does for her little sister.
As flawed as Ari is, those she does let in, like her husband, Michael Flanagan, know that she does mean well, but due to personal experiences, her built mechanism of verbally lashing out at people to protect her own, has gotten to a point where she can't really break it down over night. Ari is a tough cookie and audaciously bold. A risk taker, through and through. A primadonna is an understatement of her personality and Ari refuses to be considered less than. She aims to be in the big leagues, even if it means she might break a few bones...
You see, she and Michael were already dating prior to their debut at AWE, which was near the same time. It wasn't hard for him to gain attraction because even if he leans more on the timid side when he's out of character, he's a phenomenal heel and it shined through since day 1. Ari, however, spent her first two years figuring out her image. She was simply a blank canvas, a doll of a woman, and a temperamental wrestler, who fought well enough to get her to the mid card but required A LOT of polishing, as she tried her downright best to 'find herself' in the ring.
A year ago, Michael and her got married, and for a year, the writers have been pushing her more toward his storyline to enhance his biker boy look and guess what? It's working. People are starting to see the character behind the bitch. While Ajax is the tail gunner of his motorcycle gang, Fallen Angels, she is his queen. The Bonnie to his Clyde, who knows her way around her gun, or in this case the ring, and isn't afraid to use that to her advantage. She's a tough-talking, quick-shooting criminal and is growing to be a machine gun-blazing woman who you better not underestimate. Whenever she's threatened, she doesn't even flinch, she jumps right in and marks her territory. Fearless and it's all thanks to the writers pushing her more in the direction of the rebel girl archetype because it's something Ariel can actually relate to.
Fun fact: She isn't fond of motorcycles, but for love, she'll get on one.
» Amore hasn't debuted yet, but her face is known backstage because of her sister. The young, energetic valet aspires to be as influential as Jezebel (FC: Jessa Hinton), who was the Faceless' on-screen eye candy and eventual wife. Jezebel may have made the Faceless seem more humane, but Amore? She wants to do more than be an accessory for her love. Revolutionize the role of valets all over! At the root of it all, Alice is a business woman, who doesn't just want to 'accompany' her husband when she's on the ring with him. She wants to get heavily involved in the action inside, outside, within the audience-- ANYWHERE. A dreamer, the doll aims to earn the loudest pops of the night. Her beloved Benjamin tells her she has a niche and that is her charisma. Her stage presence. When Amore is in the spotlight, there is no doubt people will be starstruck.
Sneaky, cunning, and without hesitation, Amore will do absolutely anything for Mordecai to heighten his chances of winning. It helps that she has one sexy act that no one can top. Rated R, sexy-goodness. She acts like a child, but moves her body like a woman. Her influence is undeniable and even if wrestling isn't her top skill (it's singing and acting), she will go down in history!
As for backstage? A lovable, naive, playful and misleading young adult. Careless and foolish. Accidental prone when she isn't performing. Alice doesn't want to grow up, so she'll act far younger than she is. Oh, and she's scary possessive over her husband.
|Other |
» FCs: Kerli Kõiv & Jana
» 721728 & 324C83
|Fighting Style |
» Ari keeps you on your toes, you never know what to expect and has a passion for power. Known for her agility, high stunts, and her attitude, Ari, from the get go, set her sight on cleaning up the Divas division, showing that girls were more than accessories and tools. Even her sister, who does strut her body like it's nobody's business, isn't just that. A body. Amore is a character, whose insanity and giggles will be what the people remember. Psychotic little girl trapped in a woman's form.
Meanwhile, Ari has commitment to excellence and wants to be recognized as a professional wrestler, with Ajax by her side. Her goal: to be one of the most vicious Divas of her era. She doesn't even have to be one of the stars, she just wants to be scary. Although she isn't there yet, she will continue to work her ass off. Her current success is all thanks to her athleticism, hotheaded personality, impressive arsenal of offensive maneuvers, and her husband's biker persona.
Ari has countless ways of finishing her opponents and she will not give into status quo. A true queen of the rebels.
|Signature Moves |
» Highside (Diving Hurricanrana)
» Ari Bomb (Lita Bomb)
» Eating Asphalt (Swanton Bomb)
» Helmet Head (Hardiac Arrest)
|Finisher |
» Boneyard Moonsault (Moonsault)
» New Prime (Widow's Peak)
|Theme |
» Whatever she had before, doesn't matter. Now she has Superhuman to match Ajax.
|Gimmick |
» As said earlier in backstage rep, Ari is Ax's Bonnie to his Clyde. His ride or die. They have a fiery dynamic and shower each other with attention. They are motivated by chasing the danger, excitement, and action of wrestling. He's the gun, she's the trigger. If Ari isn't happy, Ajax is pissed. He might be the King of the Hill but without his queen, the high of living it dangerous 24/7 isn't as addicting. They're into each other in a visceral and physical way. There is a sense of co-dependency and downright bat-shit insanity between these two. Ariel even went out of her way to get 'His' tattoo on her lower back, to match Michael's "Hers" tattoo on his arm, to add to their act (when he wraps his arm around her, the audience would know - she belongs to him). A psychotic and possessive love story where their need for one another is absolutely dangerous for anyone, including each other.
Soon enough, the audience will learn crazy runs in the Slayer family because when Amore makes her debut, they'll see that the blonde is light years ahead in the insanity department.
As for fashion sense? Ari is a daredevil biker chick. Leather jacket with the Fallen Angels symbol, bustiers to showcase her stomach and her back (especially when her coat is off), leather boots, denim, the color scheme black and white, bandannas, anything really that makes her look like a total badass.
|Face or Heel |
» Heel
|Job at AWE |
» Amore will be a valet for Mordecai, who is her husband off screen.
|Skills |
» Persistent and high physical stamina
Charming and full of energy, Alice is an energetic doer, cheerful and extremely spontaneous. A true woman of action. Even if she doesn't seem it, she has strong observational skills and a keen sense to other people's feelings. Quite the problem solver, regardless of her outlandish methods. This spirited blonde would like to think she's an excellent diplomat and negotiator, especially when it comes to her pitching ideas. By nature, she's too open and direct to deliberately manipulate someone (lies and manipulation is foreign to her, unless it's for an act), but she will fight her cause until there isn't any fight left in her.
» Improviser
Perceptive, witty, and clever. Rarely missing anything that is important, because she approaches everything with curiosity and interest, Alice will take impossible situations and make 'em great. Her memory for details and facts are impressive. She absorbs everything that interests her like a sponge, storing it in her noggin for later use.
» Dancing, acting, and gymnastic experience.
Pretty point blank, Alice kept her family busy by getting them to sign her up to as much as possible so she can get better at... life. Also, with such a busy schedule when she was younger, she didn't need to be home, which was a far more pleasant option than dealing with the turmoil. Her home life drew her insane. Convincing her parents to get her involved in the community was the easy part, making them part of it, her life, though? Not so much.
» Odd & blessed with boundless creativity
Alice has always been a little weirdo. Too much individuality for one girl. And yet, she doesn't know how to be any different. Sure, some of her creative ideas are concerning and creepy, but why should she limit herself? If her mind wants to run rampant, it should! Being different isn't a bad thing and Alice will never change for anyone.
|Looks & Style |
» Inspired by her aunt, who led a broken family with dignity and grace, Amore strives to be a visual masterpiece. Her aunt was a woman who carried whatever she wore like a queen. A queen who had an undeniable ability to live a life of pure kindness. Alice's goal, no matter where she is, or if she's being Amore or not, is to make her image timeless. Definitive and iconic, to where it is her trademark. Her look. A look that pushes boundaries and continues to evolve. Alice wants to be a trend setter, a walking fashion statement, and when people look at their television screen or see her on the ring, she wants them to recognize her immediately and maybe, just maybe, follow her as an example. If she can aspire others to walk with an air of confidence, loving who they were, while also not being afraid to explore out of the box, then her life would be more than fulfilled.
What more could you ask for? She's happily married, she has endless projects that make her smile, she's about to start the career of her life that will hopefully set her on a remarkable path of happiness and success, and if she's able to move someone or an entire audience in ways not many people can, then she can say she is more than satisfied with the life she's been given.
Hardships aside. Alice is a happy girl.
|Personality Traits |
» Visionary → Imaginative → Fun-Loving → Gregarious → Persistent → Dutiful (even if she is unbeknownst to the fact that she's a tease) → Exuberant → Trusting → Picky → Dependent → Reckless → Fearful (primarily of her husband leaving her)
|Favorite wrestler |
» She's biased. Her husband, even if he hasn't made his mark yet. Alice will make it known that he's HER favorite. |
49,075 | 1,324 | 48 | 904 | 2,988 | Collab with
The audience had been very surprised by the unexpected attack that Caiden had dealt to Roddy, but they weren’t able to dwell on the surprise long because the titantron went dark and the well known phrase from V for Vendetta began to start. The lights were dimmed to a mixture of some dark blue and some dark red. As the song started a solitary figure stepped out in front of the crowd with his signature weapon. As the beat began to pick up the lights got brighter and moved rapidly around the stadium. Initiate simply stood there as the crowd cheered. As the singers voice said ‘death’ Initiate began rushing down the ramp.
He then noticed a small cluster of people sitting in the front seats wearing the mask. Mathys smiled as he walked to them. He held his hand up in a fist and the ones wearing a mask joined in crossing all their arms with fists held up above them. He stayed there a moment then backed away and slid into the ring. Once in the ring he moved to the center and got to his knees. Grabbing the bat with both hands, one on each end, he sat there for a moment then proceeded to hit the mat a few times with the bat. Standing up he took his jacket off and then tossed them outside the ring in front of the commentators.
A few brief moments later, the Golden One Centre was sunk into crimson red. The titantron flourished back to life, showing the signature silver symbol of Anarchy. Mathys’ opponent walked out, head down until the music crescendoed into the lyrics, and the wave of fire erupted either side of Chaos Clayton, and his wild, crazy eyes scanned the crowd. This time, Clayton’s hair highlights and cargo pants were a dirty, mustard yellow. Clayton then fixated on the cluster of “Initiates” at the end of the ramp. He then procured a copy-cat mask, but this time it was cracked across it. He waved it about as he strode across the ramp.
Clayton faced the camera and put the mask beside his face, running his thumb across his neck then turning to Initiate who stood in the ring. Clayton pointed at the Opponent and tossed the mask towards the side of the ring, sliding to the bottom of the ring before the Anarchist leapt up and turned back to the crowd, roaring out before stepping in. Clayton got right up to the Initiate and pressed his forehead against the mask. It took the referee to push Clayton away and get the two in the corners for the match to start properly.
“This match is going to be an all out war between the idea of Chaos and the power of Revolution. Whoever wins this match is going to be able to advance in the tournament and push his agenda on the AWE with force! Holding the world title brings all eyes on you, and if you have those eyes… your message will be heard.”
Initiate cocked his head as the ref made Clayton go to his corner. When the bell rang Initiate slowly moved towards the man he nearly towered over. Initiate made the motions to go for a collar and elbow tie up but as Clayton reacted Initiate brought his leg up to kick Clayton right in the gut. Quickly Initiate grabbed Clayton’s head in a sprawl position. It was obvious at this point what Initiate was doing. Keeping Clayton on the ground should cancel out his brawling and high flying.
“The Initiate is doing his best to keep the Anarchist down on the ground so he can’t do what we all know him for: flying high and knocking heads. If he can keep the okizeme rolling, then this match is almost a surefire victory for him.”
“The what now? Is that even a proper Japanese word?”
“It’s a video game thing… it means ground game.”
“WHAT A NERD.” Kane chuckled to himself and continued his banter, “Nurdddddddddd.”
Clayton grasped at Initiates’ arms, managing to scramble up onto his knees but was nowhere near able to push the Initiate off just yet. Clayton attempted to wrench Initiate away but it was clear that his strength would get sapped away too soon if he couldn’t break away. The Anarchist freed up one arm to strike Initiates’ abdomen to try and force his opponent to deal with two things at once.
“Clean moves from Clayton, he’s fighting back. He doesn’t want to be kept on the ground game for very long!”
“It’s a game of wits now so Chaos Clayton can have the high ground. What the Initiate doesn’t realize is great changes usually start with a bit of chaos. The power of a revolution needs the idea of chaos.”
Initiate took the blows to his abdomen in order to try and switch the hold to where Clayton couldn’t hit him. Initiate slowly started standing bringing Clayton up. Before getting fully to his feet Initiate grabbed Clayton’s head and slammed him down into the mat. Initiate jumped in the air and delivered an elbow drop to Clayton’s torso. He quickly moved into a pin trying to hold Clayton down.
“An early pin here from the Initiate, he’s looking to close this match out as fast as he can. And who can blame him? The ideal way to advance in the tournament is quick and fast, don’t you think? Save your energy for the next match. Save it for the finals.”
“No. I don’t agree. That just means he ain’t got enough endurance. The best way to advance is to tire your opponent out so you’re guaranteed to win. If you don’t got enough energy and drive, what are you doing in the ring?!”
Clayton only had a brief opportunity to hold the back of his head from the slam before taking a gravity-fuelled elbow drop from the Initiate. The referee slapped the mat once before Clayton managed to kick out.
“Of course that isn’t going to work with Clayton! He’s got a lot left in the tank, you’ll have to do better than that to put him away! He’s got a lot left in the tank!”
“It’s the endurance, man. Fueled by pure mayhem. Chaos Clayton can fight all day, everyday.”
He attempted to roll away to the side of the ring and clutching the ropes, using them to help him scramble up onto his feet. Clayton sprinted at the Initiate, leaping up to deliver a flying forearm smash.
Initiate stood up from the failed pin and watched curiously as Clayton rolled towards the ropes. When he got up and leaped at Initiate with a forearm, Initiate brought his arm up to deliver an uppercut. He didn’t fully connect and the forearm sent him to the ground. He held the back of his head as he rose to one knee still bent over.
“High energy moves from Clayton! Chaos is going to force the Initiate to wrestle his type of match, and that’s the bottom line — because Chaos Clayton said so.”
“Like a boss.”
Clayton landed and turned around, looking over his shoulder at his handiwork. Clayton looked up at the roof of the building and chuckled as he threw his arms out, turning as he did it. After his maniacal laughter was over, Clayton grabbed the Initiate's head and pulled him up onto his feet, tossing him into the ropes with an irish whip. As the Initiate rebounded back towards Clayton, he leapt up and twisted his body round, jutting his arm out for a Corkscrew Elbow.
“Beautiful elbow right to the damn dome. Business is about to pick up!”
“Toldja, the Anarchist knows what he’s doing.” Kane wasn’t fully impressed. He wanted more blood. But he was sure they had tricks up their sleeves. He honestly couldn’t wait until the PPV. Shit would get real, real fast.
Initiate landed in a way to make it look like a hard landing. However, he quickly sat up arching his back and holding his hand there. Looking straight at Clayton he stood up and mocked him by gesturing him to bring it. Initiate ran to the ropes, bounced off in Clayton’s direction, and began spinning around to deliver a Cyclone Kill.
Clayton readied himself and caught the Initiates’ foot. The Anarchist shook his head as if to say “Oh no you don’t” before spinning the Initiate around and kicking him in the midriff before pushing him to the floor.
“Not today, Initiate. Today, Chaos Clayton says no and you sit your ass down and wait and see what happens! I love it! I love it!”
“Is Clayton converting you, Wade? Are you actually down with disorder?”
“I’m down with this match that’s happening right here, right now.”
Clayton wasted no time and hopped up onto the turnbuckle, turning around before standing up and throwing his arms up high, hands turned into the Rocker signs before flying through the air for a Meteora aerial attack. Initiate stood up and turned to see Clayton flying at him. He didn’t have time to move or dodge and was hit by the attack. Clayton dropped beside the Initiate but rolled up onto his feet before moving over and pinning down Initiate, trying to secure the win, going as far as to push his hand down onto his opponent’s face, which in reality didn’t hurt thanks to Mathys’ mask.
“That’s gotta be the end of this! Clayton’s gonna advance!”
Initiate raised his legs in the air and swung them down to give him momentum to knock Clayton away just after the ref got to one. He quickly stumbled to his feet and stumbled back until he hit the ropes then ran forward at Clayton going for a running clothesline.
“KICK OUT! Maybe the Initiate has more in him than I thought he did.”
“Said NO ONE ever. COME ON, CLAYTON! What are you DOING?”
Clayton landed hard on his back as he collided with the Initiate’s clothesline. Clayton stood onto a knee, panting and recovering. Mathys grinned as he grabbed Clayton’s head and pulled him into a knee. He lifted Clayton to his feet and threw him towards the ropes. As he bounced back to where Initiate stood he grabbed him and spun around in a Spinning Side Slam. Initiate jumped to his feet and walked to the ropes screaming. The crowd joined in by chanting
”LET’S GET WEIRD! LET’S GET WEIRD! LET’S GET WEIRD!”
“You can say whatever you want about the strangeness of the Initiate — and it is there, but he certainly gets the crowd behind him.”
“By crowd, you mean the children.” Kane scoffed in annoyance.
Initiate fell backwards to the mat and imitated Clayton as he stood up. Once both were standing Initiate shifted into a mock runners starting position then ran towards Clayton trying for the Cyclone Kill again. Clayton just managed to duck under the kick and brought both of his fists up to unleash a combo of strikes. He began with a solid left jab followed by a swift kick to Initiate’s shin. Initiate staggered back after every strike and as soon as he was pressed against the ropes, Clayton grabbed his legs and flipped him over, sending The Initiate tumbling to the ramp.
“This time the Initiate fails to hit him with the kick! Clayton ducked under, let’s see if he can capitalize on that dodge!”
Initiate fell to the ground and landed on his back. He rolled over onto his front and slowly made his way to his feet. After stretching his back he turned back towards the ring. However, Clayton was already rebounding off of the ropes and propelled himself towards Initiate, Suicide Diving straight between the top and middle rope like a dart. Initiate angled himself to do a Snap Scoop Powerslam but missed the grab and went down to the ground with Clayton on top.
“TOPÉ SUICIDA!” “TOPÉ SUICIDA!”
“...Get out of my head, Wade!”
However, due to how the Initiate angled himself, Clayton didn’t land the Dive perfectly, and took the landing pretty hard at the same time. He rolled off of the Initiate and stared up in a dazed manner. The cameraman zoomed in on both of the downed wrestlers as the referee began to count them out, the crowd counting along with the official.
”1! 2! 3!”
“The ref’s count begins! If these two super stars don’t make it into the ring fast enough, then this match is over in the most dissatisfying way.”
Initiate slowly got up to his knee and from there used the apron to fully stand up. He walked over to Clayton and, grabbing him by the hair, lifted him up. He kneed him in the gut then turned around slinging him towards the barricade while the ref and crowd yelled,
”4! 5! 6!”
Clayton grunted as his back collided with the barricade, but as the Initiate closed in, he delivered a major kick to the Initiate’s stomach before quickly making his way back to the ring to beat the count out. However, he turned around and saw that the Initiate was still hot on his heels. Clayton sped up and leapt up onto the side of the ring.
“7! 8!”
However, instead of catching the ropes, Clayton kicked off from it and delivered a pitch perfect Disaster Kick straight to the Initiate’s head. Initiate fell straight to the ground. Mathys reached up and slid the mask a little in a way no one would see to make it look like the kick had connected hard.
“Maybe Clayton doesn’t care about this victory, about that title belt! He just wants to hurt his opponent here!”
”9!”
Clayton quickly turned on his heels and dove onto the apron, sliding himself securely back into the ring.
”10!”
“You were saying?” Kane gave his coworker, and friend, a smug look.
The referee rung the bell and the match was over. While some of the crowd cheered, another part booed due to the circumstance of the win. Clayton rolled back out as his music blared throughout the arena again, and he made his way back to the ramp. Before he walked up it, he looked back at the Initiate, then back to the group of his white masked fans before scoffing and exiting the arena.
“And just like that, Chaos Clayton moves to the semifinals! Maybe not the most satisfying victory… but a victory and an advance in the tournament, nonetheless.” | tear this up!"
189 lbs - 5' 9" | 5 Years of Experience
|Birth name |
» Duncan Middleton
|Hails From |
» London, United Kingdom
» June 15th, 1990 (27)
|Fighting Style |
» Chaos Clayton is a tornado of havoc in the ring. A brawler style mixed with high flying moves, Clayton wants to physically decimate his opponents and look good doing it. When striking, Clayton loves elbow smashes, clotheslines, punches and spinning kicks. However, momentum and adrenaline is when he really shines. The Arbiter of Anarchy loves to stay agile, dodging and waiting for opportunities before releasing his relentless assault. Clayton isn't so strong when it comes to grappling and prefers moves such as a Dragon Screw or a Frankensteiner. Something to escape the grapple. However, Clayton is relentless, and will stop at nothing to beat his opponents, even if it means bending the rules sometimes too.
|Signature Moves |
» Beautiful Disaster
» Spear
» Monkey Flip
» Corkscrew Elbow
|Finisher |
» Pop-Up Powerbomb
» Suicide Dive
|Theme |
» Flatlined
|Gimmick |
» Every good roster needs a rebellious agent of chaos, and Chaos Clayton is all about causing mayhem and havoc in the AWE. Clayton has a "doesn't give a damn!" attitude and starts fights for the hell of it. His character revels in the chaos he creates and also acts... pretty insane sometimes. However, he is not necessarily a bad guy. 'Chaos' Clayton will mostly act morally unless the situation calls for something more extreme or if the way of resolving a feud or drama is 'boring'. He'll run in on both bad guys and good guys to keep the fights going, sometimes both on the same show! His appeal to the crowd isn't necessarily that he is a good guy, but that he's unpredictable, and no one will know what Clayton is planning in his unhinged brain. One thing is for sure:
When Clayton shows up, Chaos always ensues.
Clayton's outfit starts with brown heavy duty boots, followed by crimson red cargo pants with a silver anarchy symbol printed on the left thigh. Above the waist, Clayton sports a slightly over-sized black vest with his slogan "Let's tear this up!" printed on the back in a font more suited to a death metal band that is also in crimson red. Upon his arms, Clayton wears compression arm sleeves. His right arm is the same colour as his prints and pants, and his left arm sleeve is a graffiti style Union Jack, representing the punk scene in his home country. Sometimes these will vary in colours or design prints, but one thing that will always stay on outside of the locker room is his signature black half mask snood that covers his nose, lower face and neck with the mouth of a skull printed on. His hair is always dyed in a colour, usually matching the brighter colour of his outfit.
|Face or Heel |
» Tweener
|Backstage Rep |
» Duncan is actually quite a friendly, amiable person outside of the stage. He loves talking about the trade with the fellow talent and the crew, and deeply appreciates what the crew does to make the show run smooth for the performers. Duncan always encourages the rest of the locker room. He loves being the shit-stirrer of the roster, and revels in leaning back and watching the chaos he causes unfold. He loves being crazy and finds switching into Chaos Clayton kind of cathartic sometimes, giving him the opportunity to let loose. However, Duncan adores the fans, and although sometimes they're not always on his side, Duncan prefers being the rebel than a pure face character. Duncan is known for being the first to volunteer for the next biggest and wildest show, forever searching for the next spectacle to amaze the fans. Ladder dive, table breaks, nothing's off limits for Duncan especially when he see's a new opportunity to test the limit of his mind and body at the same time.
|Other |
» FC- Josh Dun |
49,076 | 1,324 | 49 | 2,363 | 319 | Collaboration with ,&
“For this match, we’re joined on commentary by the one and only, Oscar O’Sullivan himself. He has a particular interest in this match, as whichever competitor wins, he will face in the next round of the tournament. Who would you like to face of the two?”
”Well, Wade. I’ve done my research on both guys. I already know a lot about Savaka. I mean, he is the Intercontinental champion. He’s no slouch in the ring, but c’mon. He’s a peace-loving monk. And Ludwig von Moltbag? What was his name? Never heard of him before. Sounds like a clown with a name like that. I don’t think either really pose a threat to me, but who knows? I could be proven wrong tonight.”
“Don’t get cocky. If there’s one thing I’ve learned over my years calling matches — and I’ve got a few years under my belt — it’s that exactly what you don’t expect to happen… will. You’ll find yourself getting locked in one of Savaka’s holds before long, and then what? You tap.”
“What? That isn’t being cocky. That isn’t being over-confident. Ain’t nobody got time to think less of themselves. To be a star, you gotta’ believe you are one and Oscar sure as hell believes he’s one. The one and only.”
The jobber got the first entrance. Ludwig von Moltbaug was the wrestling persona of a local fixture of the indie scene, a heel complete with monocle, pocket watch, and gold and black trunks. The Praxeological Pugilist, the Arch Grappler of the Austrian School marched his way to the ring with an air dignity and derision for the common men of the arena’s audience, literally turning up his nose at the sight of them as his entrance music played. He stood there in the ring, playing up his mannerisms until his arrogance was practically seeping out of him.
”Jeez, Wade, look at this guy. Somebody call the circus. They’ve got an act missing!”
“Hey, he’s a competitor just like you.” In a surprising lack of professionalism from Wade, there were chuckles laced into what he was saying.
“Damn exhibitionists. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure Ludwig von Moltbaug got some things up his sleeves, but I’m with Oscar on this one. The guy looks ridiculous.”
Savaka’s music kicked in with the sound of Sanskrit chants, and the fog machine induced cloud gave way to show him rising from his prostration at the top of the entrance ramp. He walked to the ring in a measured fashion, eyes closed and hands clasped together, the sign of someone at peace with the world. After both competitors were in the ring, the lights turned on to full brightness and the bell rung, signaling the start of the match.
“Here comes the champion. What an awesome run from him we’ve seen over the past few months. Savaka has a unique fighting style that is unlike any other, and he wows crowds everytime he comes out here, with his ability to grapple like no other can.”
”Was that a challenge? That sounded like a challenge.”
“Those were some fightin’ words! Wade doesn’t think you can get out of Savaka’s Tripitaka Lock, Oscar. You gonna’ let him believe that? You gonna’ let him underestimate your skills?” If there was one thing Kane had a natural talent for, it was egging people on and being a massive troll. But hey, at least he knew how to make the wrestlers look good. All in a day’s job.
”Let him believe what he wants to believe, Kane. Next round of the tournament, I will show him by example how easy it is for the One! And! Only! Oscar O’sullivan to slip out of a Tripitaka Lock!”
Savaka wore a bemused, calm expression on his face, keeping his eyes on Ludwig as both circled. Ludwig threw a wide punch and Savaka ducked it, the follow up also failed to land. Then he grabbed at Savaka’s robe, balling up a portion of fabric in his hand. Savaka grabbed Ludwig’s forearm behind the elbow, and pulled in. A simple wristlock ensued, forcing Ludwig’s palm to hyperextend, and causing him to wince in pain. Struggling got Ludwig a little more distance, but Savaka held onto the wrist and flexed it again, turning it into a different lock. Flipping and rolling around the ring looked impressive, but Savaka followed every move of Ludwig’s and kept the lock on, all showing no emotion. When Ludwig stopped to catch his breath, Savaka pulled the arm wide and snuck his foot behind Ludwig’s legs, then sent him down to the mat with a gentle push from his other hand.
”Nothing Ludwig von Moltborg is doing is working! He just cannot get out of that hold! I guess they didn’t teach him how to escape a wristlock at the nineteenth century steam train museum!
“I don’t think that’s the case — I think you, Mr. O’Sullivan, have been doing nothing but underestimating Savaka all night long. I think that Ludwig von Moltbaug, as it’s properly pronounced, is locked in holds by an expert grappler, and that he’s never faced someone who can lock it in quite like Savaka can. You can’t beat what you’ve never experienced before!”
“Are you insinuating that Oscar won’t be able to take him down? Both of them have been in the business for a long time. The golden rule of life is to never underestimate your rivals, but is it underestimating when you know who you are and what you’re capable of? Hell, Savaka probably doesn’t think Oscar has what it takes either.”
With Ludwig on the ground, Savaka wrenched the arm harder, using his legs and getting low. When Savaka got close, Ludwig saw an opportunity, and kicked him right in the forehead. Savaka staggered and held onto the arm, rolling back and turning it into an arm drag just as Ludwig was using the opportunity to stand up. While on his back, Savaka changed his grip and wrapped his legs on either side of the arm, setting up a cross armbreaker on Ludwig, who anticipated the move and rose to his feet, then pushed down to try and stop Savaka from extending the arm.
”Both men seem to be at an impasse. Savaka’s a fluid, scientific, precise grappler, no doubt about that, but look how he’s been stopped in his tracks from such a simple act of resistance from Ludvig Von Meatbag!”
“Let’s wait and see how this turns out, don’t count the AWE’s premiere submission specialist out quite yet!”
“Hah. Meatbag. I like that.”
”Thank you, Kane. Somebody here gets it.
For a brief moment, Ludwig leaned enough weight on Savaka to get both shoulders down and the referee started to count a pin. Not disturbed at all, Savaka simply pushed out and wove one of his legs around the arm, then sat up to break Ludwig’s posture down. One slight adjustment with his other leg and the Tripitaka Lock was complete, with Savaka sitting in his meditative posture until the quick tap from Ludwig let him know the match was over. He thanked the pouting Ludwig for the match, then did a slight bow before leaving the ring.
“And just like that, we have our final quarterfinals match on lockdown. Next week it’ll be Oscar O’Sullivan vs Savaka, and Gethin Rhys vs Owen Sparks. Still to come tonight: Thunderbird vs Zachary Wake and Chaos Clayton vs the Initiate. Stay tuned!”
“Oh!” Kane wiggled his pencil in between his fingers, before finishing the match with a sell, “If you’re currently subscribed to the AWE network, we’d like to get you and your friends involved in the heat. If you refer a friend to the AWE network, and sign up yourself, both of you will receive a twenty five dollar gift card to aweshop.com! Though, if I were you, I’d refer TEN friends. That’s 250 dollars worth of merch. Yeahhhh boi.” | SavakaWe fall so that we may learn to rise again
6’ 1” – 220 lbs | 14 Years of Experience
|Birth Name |
Jean Francois Mpolondo
|Hails From |
» New York City
» January 3rd, 1982 (35)
|Fighting Style |
» Savaka is a technical wrestler through and through. He has spent most of his career wrestling for a shoot-style promotion that emphasized realism and grappling, giving him strong matwork skills. Expect lots of chain wrestling and reversals in his matches, along with a wide variety of submission holds and quick pinfall attempts. With his current gimmick, he especially likes to wear down the arm of his opponent to set up for his finisher, which gives him the opportunity to show off his various wristlocks and armbars. He uses the big slams and suplexs more conservatively than most wrestlers, often waiting until the match is well underway and using less flashy moves to get things to the ground, such as arm drags or judo style throws and trips. As part of his current gimmick, he does not use strikes, but does have a few kicks and stomps and stomps that look good if that were to change, his punches and forearms blows are not as polished. He has virtually no high-flying moves, because they are not part of the style he is used to and because he prefers not to take risks.
|Signature Moves |
» Cross Armbreaker
» Hammerlock Suplex
» Small Package Pin
» Cross Kneelock
|Finisher |
» Tripitaka Lock (Omoplata, poses as though he is meditating once it is locked in)
» Kalachakra(Granby Roll)
|Theme |
»
|Gimmick |
» Jean portrays the character Savaka, a monk following a new age religion called the Way of Peace. Initially brought in as the bodyguard to another character with spiritual guru gimmick, he has kept the gimmick because creative has had little direction for him. The character is stoic and seldom speaks, and has sworn a vow of nonviolence that prevents him from using strikes, leaving him to rely on submission holds and throws in the ring. Savaka is lodged solidly in the midcard, collecting some wins but never building momentum and frequently putting over other wrestlers headed on to greater heights. When he does get time on the mic he uses and exaggeratedly calm voice and relies on generic new age phrases about enlightenment and mindfulness. Savaka also will pose like he’s meditating or praying frequently, and displays an unnatural tranquility when caught in submission holds. He dresses in something close to the stereotypical Shaolin monk outfit, orange and yellow robes with one sleeve.
|Face or Heel |
» Face
|Backstage Rep |
» Jean came from a family of Congolese immigrants, and always felt a little awkward in school. He loved sports but never really cared about winning or losing, which meant he never really felt like he fit in with the rest of the jocks at school. After getting a degree in English he went to Japan to teach, hoping to see more of the world. As a regular at the local gym he befriended some pro wrestlers and began training with them. It was not an easy process, even with a background in amateur wrestling, but he put in the effort and debuted with Combaticon, a shoot style promotion. There he built a solid career and honed his skills, even though he was never the top star he still had several classic matches and developed a reputation as a safe and reliable worker.
Combaticon would run into financial difficulties as time went on. The older wrestlers bodies began to break down from the stress, and the rising popularity of MMA started to cut into their market, and the owner made several questionable decisions. Seeing the writing on the wall, Jean left for AWE. AWE likes the fact that he is a safe worker who can get a good match out of almost anyone, but they quickly discovered that he was almost devoid of charisma. Coupled with his less flashy style of wrestling, the company has pegged him as a guy to help build up newer talent, letting them learn and collect wins. Jean doesn’t mind this, but he is looking for ways to increase his earnings; he knows that he will have to retire eventually and is trying to make sure he earns enough to keep his family financially stable for as long as possible.
Off camera Jean is relaxed and doesn’t feel the need get involved in drama. He doesn’t like to go out drinking or enjoy the nightlife, preferring instead to spend his time with a good book. He does not have much clout in backstage politics because he is fairly new to AWE, but is always happy to help out newer wrestlers if they ask for advice. He knows that there are many good people in the industry, but he is always put off by stories of some the shadier business that goes on.
|Other |
» Unlike his character, Jean is a devout Roman Catholic
» Face Claim is Jack Johnson |
49,077 | 1,324 | 50 | 792 | 4,390 | a collab with
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There’s little in the way of fanfare as the pounding bass and hard hitting flow drones out, announcing the presence of someone who was clearly not one the gathered crowd was interested in seeing. Standing on the ramp, basked in the singular spotlight illuminating her, was a woman whose first identifiable feature was the crimson of her lips against the pale tone that was her skin. Her attire caught the light as well, making the all black outfit shine thanks to its sheen.
The black jacket with engraved white sleeves was hanging off her already, more for style than function, and her style was certainly on display; from the sleeveless top that rested above her navel, to the equally black pair of shorts that matched the near thigh-high boots; as far as attire went it was hardly conventional, but it was clear from the makeup and accessories that this was a woman who cared more about the style than the usability.
There was purpose in her stance, as she stood there in the spotlight listening to the thumping notes of her music. The thin fingers of her right hand were curled around a microphone and she lifted her left hand, closing it into a fist to kill the music. She had all the time in the world between here and the ring, and she was going to use every moment of it.
”I don’t know about you all but I’m bored. I’m bored of what passes for talent in the women’s locker room - though let’s not pretend the men are doing much better. How could I NOT be, with what slim pickings there are. Never in my life have I seen a larger gathering of basic bitches and fakers failing - or sleeping - their way upwards. And I come from Los Angeles, where every corner coffee shop or restaurant has ten women waiting for the casting call before deciding to take the backroom casting couch call. You all know the one.”
Death Adder was slowly making her way to the ring, having the audience’s attention if not their approval. It didn’t matter, she wasn’t here to garner applause.
”Of course we all know someone that’s very familiar with backroom couches. Honey, just because you’re a champion at throating doesn’t make you a champion of a division, title or not. When the boss of a company has his secretary take some dictation under a desk, she doesn’t get a promotion. Hell, she doesn’t even get respect. Calling yourself a queen doesn’t make it true, no matter how many metaphors or overpriced chairs you buy. People don’t boo you because they’re jealous or they’re haters, or whatever garbage you tell yourself to pretend it doesn’t bother you. They boo you because the most interesting thing about you is Drayden. The only thing you bring to the ring, queenie is something they can get better with a Google search, some privacy, and a box of Kleenex; and it’d be more stimulating and interesting than anything you’ve done in what you call your ‘career’.”
“But of course, one can’t talk about the wannabe queen without bringing up the other girl playing like this is high school politics and cliques all over again. For every preppy whore there’s the gothic creep that just discovered that ankhs and crosses go great with a helping of angst. The two of you can’t seem to co-exist, between the petty jabs of princess plastic and the poor-man’s bdsm styling of miss mixed metaphors. And you’d think they’d get along so well, what with them having so many things in common. Lack of talent, inability to enthrall, deep rooted daddy issues expressing themselves in different ways… Honey, no one’s afraid of you or your elementary use of mix-matched imagery. Here’s an idea. Go hook up with the rest of your little wiccan friends and conjure up an original personality. At least your dad had the good sense to rip off Jason Voorhes - people actually liked those movies.”
Though she was now circling the ring, Death Adder was not done. There were more than just two of the easiest targets possible. Who hadn’t had a go at the top slags of the company?
”Of course, I mentioned that I was bored of the division and nowhere is that more obvious than the personification of boredom that is miss can’t choose a career path. What, was the military too normal for you? Was it too hard to get beaten senseless by people who actually care enough to do something they believe in? How long is it going to take before you decide that the AWE isn’t for you? As soon as you start to lose over and over again? I thought the military was supposed to instill discipline and responsibility, yet did I not hear you go on and blame Jennifer’s Frumpy Body for you losing to a damn mute and Sailor Moon. The big strong soldier can’t fight her own battles. Boo hoo. I give it six months and continued losses before you move on to something else you can get bored of because of a lack of competence. You don’t care about this place, G.I. Jane. So do us all a favor and muscle your way out of here.”
“Oh, I’m not done. Not at all. Because for as utterly devoid of originality that the terrible trio might be, at least they do something, which is more than I can say for the god damn kindergarten class that exists back there. I thought this was a wrestling company, not AnimeCon with special guest literally who and the cosplayer with an alias about as decent as Hot Topic’s dye job. I’m sure hurricane otaku and still illegal in all fifty states fox-girl will do something to make us all collectively snore as soon as they’re done gushing over their magical girl collection. I wasn’t aware we were in a constant state of bring your child to work day.”
“But then how else am I supposed to account for nepotism given flesh and named after the ugly girl from The Matrix. I’m sure you’re doing your family proud, dear, you’re about as mediocre as the lot of them; doing the family name proud, you are. Given your sister’s lack of charisma during interviews maybe you’re the one that got the spurt of talent from your parents. Because one of you has to live up to the legacy of being absolutely forgetful, right?”
Having made her way through the roster in various forms, Adder finally took a moment to pause and take in the negative response to her string of insults. And yet she still lifted the mic to her lips once more, complete with a lethal smirk.
”And because I have each and every one of you fraudulent, boring, basic bitches pegged, I know that none of you are going to do anything about it. Barbie can’t even jump without Ken around to catch her, Morgana’s too busy taking notes on horror movies to rip off - when she should be taking notes on how to call bitches out from yours truly, but then she’d be made even MORE unoriginal. Sydney can’t find the time between lifting a dumbbell and flipping through a job booklet and the others? They’ve got homework and a curfew to worry about. But all of them, every single one - even the weird mute - would all say the exact same thing in response to my words here. Some junk about me being jealous, or a hater, or how it doesn’t bother them, the same exact spiel they spout night after night like the broken records that is their entire careers.”
“Which is why I’m putting the entire division on blast right here and right now. Show me that there’s more to any of you than your sub-par looks and your below-par personalities. But of course you won’t. None of you will. Because, like I said at the start, you’re all so utterly boring. Prove me wrong.”
With her statement of intent clear, the venomous Death Adder dropped her jacket as well as the microphone, widening her smirk and watching the ramp for anyone. The entire division was on her notice now, it was only a matter of time before they all felt the sting.
After hearing the challenge from Death Adder, Tsunami felt her blood boil after what witnessing what she had done to her allies. No one runs in on her allies like that without getting a piece of what Tsunami did best. She stood up from her seat on the couch and made her way to the main stage. She was seeing red and quite honestly wanted to beat the living shit out of Death Adder.
Walking up to the curtain, she put her hands on her hips and waited for her music to start playing. Standing there, looking down and swaying idly, she finally heard that sweet, sweet guitar riff and dashed outside. She still had to give the crowd a show, though. Tsunami came out, her arms raised and getting the crowd amped up as she went over to the side and gave a couple of people high fives, before going to the other side and doing the same to another few lucky fans.
With her entrance ritual finally over with, Tsunami stared down Death Adder wherever she was and made her way there, knowing that all she wanted to do was to get redemption for her friends.
For a moment, however brief, there was a smile on the Adder’s crimson lips. Of all the women backstage, of all the little wannabes and try-hards this was who answered the call? Under normal circumstances Adder might even have given Tsunami the smallest of props for having the fortitude and bravery to answer the challenge. It took some sort of moxie to essentially sign one’s own death warrant. Death Adder’s smirk dropped almost as soon as her fake clapping had. There was no time to waste on words or remarks; this was a statement, after all. And when one made a statement of intent, one didn’t have the luxury of wasting time.
As the stare-off, such as it was, ended, it was the venomous snake that pounced first, practically bounding forward to chop at Tsunami hard, swift, and fierce. There would be nothing pretty about this fight if Adder had her way. As far as the snake was concerned, the other woman was merely a rat wandering too close to a hunger predator.
Death Adder lunged forward at Tsunami, tying them up into a single collar tie. She tried shifting her weight to the right side to try to get her opponent off balance. Throwing a few uppercuts from the clinch she pulled Death Adder’s arm as if she was trying to drag it down. However, she instead transitioned into a hammerlock in the standing position. Pushing forward a bit, she let go with one arm to grasp around the hip, before letting go of the grip and wrapping her arms around Death Adder’s hip.
Twisting upwards, Tsunami arced her back into a German Suplex. Just as she was about to hit the apex, she released Death Adder from her grip at the appropriate time so that she would go flying. Landing on her belly, Tsunami was quick to get up and go to the ropes. She bounded off of them, dashing towards Death Adder so that she could drop her with an elbow, hopefully.
Adder was on her back with a hard landing, only adding fuel to the fire that was slowly rising in her soul. She didn’t wait around for the follow-up elbow, spotting it coming and rolling onto her stomach in time to avoid the impact. Pressing her palms to the mat, she hoisted herself back up and kept her gaze ever locked on Tsunami. An inch couldn’t be given, nor would she give it. Still, she waited until Tsunami was getting up, only to pounce forward again - this time with a knee aimed squarely at the other competitor’s head.
Death Adder wanted Tsunami on the mat, down on the ground where she belonged.
As Tsunami went for the elbow, she failed to realize that Death Adder had rolled away before it was too late, and she landed on the mat hard. She recoiled in pain and groaned, grabbing her elbow before eyeing Death Adder.
She posted up with both hands, not even having time to get herself situated before her opponent came at her like a cobra. And then came the knee. The knee hit Tsunami and she fell backwards, lying on her back and breathing hard as she was trying to recover quick enough. But the knee had caught her off guard and she was stuck recovering from the attack.
There was no point in celebrating a hit, not when it meant it was time to follow it up. No grandstanding. No taunting. Just precision. Adder stood over Tsunami, her lips twisted in a foul grin, standing out amidst the pale complexion of her skin, like a hawk circling its prey. The serpent in the grass lifted a foot to stomp at Tsunami’s arm. What better way to make an example than by crippling such necessary tools.
As she stomped, Death Adder felt a unique sort of glee, and she wore it on her face like a badge of honor. The stomps were quick. At the moment, it was all she was focusing on. The feeling of stomping a limb beneath her boot. It took the referee stepping in and forcing Adder to stop before she backed up, still smirking, still leering towards Tsunami, daring the girl to swing back.
Watching Death Adder circle around her did not bode well for Tsunami. She was helpless at this moment, and there were a variety of things she could do to take advantage of the momentum she had just received. It could’ve ranged from a dropkick to a full press. She looked at Death Adder, but refused to show any fear knowing that it was what Death Adder wanted.
Feeling her get closer and her shadow looming over her, Tsunami didn’t know what to expect next. Then came the stomp, the loud crashing of boot to her arm. Tsunami recoiled and grabbed her arm in pain, groaning loudly going into a fetal position of sorts as she clutched her arm. Taking the pain, she rolled to a turtle position, before getting up. She was breathing hard, building up energy for her next bout of offense.
She lunged toward Death Adder with an elbow, using the arm that her opponent had stepped on earlier. Tsunami then quickly followed up with a roundhouse kick to the abdomen, before tying Death Adder up into a single collar tie yet again.
So there was still fight to be had in Tsunami - admirable, but ultimately pointless as far as the Adder was concerned. The scared mouse could take swipes but in the end it would still succumb. Adder reeled back when the elbow collided with her, then doubled over in response to the roundhouse. Exquisite. The spark of a fight, however fleeting, made all the difference in these situations. It would’ve been boring otherwise.
But the mistake was in bringing Adder so close. Though they were locked in a tie, Adder was still smiling, damn near laughing, the way one does when they know they have the upper hand. It happened suddenly, and just out of the eyeshot of the referee. When the collar tie was locked in, Death Adder delivered a shot of Venom. Quick and purple, just enough to be aggravating. Never corner a venomous snake.
The laughing from Death Adder was ominous, giving Tsunami a sinking feeling in her stomach before all she could see was purple. She let go of the tie and covered her eyes, selling it by groaning in pain and trying to get the furthest from Death Adder as she could. She still couldn’t see, and eventually she found herself on the ropes. Death Adder was definitely like a Cobra, but Tsunami was the Mongoose to the Cobra.
She glanced at Death Adder, her vision still slightly unclear from the venom attack from earlier. She rolled out of the mat and onto the floor, trying to take things out of the ring.
Running away or a tactical retreat? It didn’t matter where Tsunami went, Death was sure to follow. After taking a moment to admire the way in which Tsunami was clearly in pain, clearly feeling the effects of the Venom, Death Adder followed along, stepping through the ropes and outside of the ring in hot pursuit. Out here, the rules were different as far as Adder was concerned. She could hear the disapproval of the rubes in the audience and that only made her more eager to kill this inferior specimen.
Death Adder came up behind Tsunami, grabbing her by the neck with a loud, sinister laugh. There was no elegance or technical skill behind the hold, just a raw, brutal sort of application, and her intent was clear from the jump. Adder had every intention of using this leverage to throw Tsunami into the security barricade. Out here, this was no longer a match. It was, in the eyes of the Adder, lawless. This was a brawl now.
Landing against the security barrier, Tsunami recoiled in pain once again as she bounced back onto the floor. She lied on her belly, putting her arm up and trying desperately to get herself back up, but she couldn’t. Tsunami was stunned from the impact. She glanced up at Death Adder. She was strong for sure. But, Tsunami had been through worse. She figured that she had to change up the strategy in order to break through Death Adder’s overwhelming confidence.
Tsunami slowly mustered up strength to get back up, the crowd’s energy surging as she got back up. Breathing heavily, she summoned the energy to start sprinting. The wrestler put her leg on Death Adder’s leg, before going for the enzuigiri. If it worked, Tsunami had every intention in the world to try to pull off a gutbuster on Death Adder and reciprocate the damage and pain that she had inflicted on her.
After Tsunami hit the barrier, Adder was widening her grin. The way the body bounced and fell...the subtle sounds as the plucky little prey hit the ground...it was sweeter than any symphony. In the eyes of the predatory Death Adder, the sight of a loved member of the roster on the ground in pain was a victory in and of itself. She was reveling in the sounds of disapproval. She was taking pride in her handiwork. And she was savoring the moment before going in for the kill.
But the moment to bask in her brief success was met only with a kick to the head. The brief moment of pause was enough for the fight or flight instincts in the little mouse to kick in, and presently the switch was flipped to fight. In an instant, the predator was doubled over and then being dropped in kind, now on the floor in a bursting sting of pain. She could hear the swinging change to the crowd, happy that the hunter was being shown the floor. It wouldn’t end like that. Tsunami might have fought back and taken the advantage but in the process she made one major mistake.
She made Death Adder angry.
No more admiration. No more pausing to appreciate the aesthetics of a beaten idol. The Adder would slowly rise to one knee, eyes glaring towards Tsunami, and like a snake coiled and ready, she would make a move to strike, To pounce and to simply do whatever it took to strike at and drop this little upstart.
Abandoning the plan to hit a gutbuster, Tsunami backed up and gave Death Adder some space, after learning her lesson with the sudden venom attack. She took a deep breath, watching her and studying whatever she was doing. Watching her pounce, Tsunami failed to react accordingly and was hit by Death Adder’s burst of offense.
Tsunami stumbled back a bit, trying to make sure that she didn’t outright lose her balance. This had turned into a brawl, and Tsunami was more than willing to bring it to Death Adder. The distance between them was closed, coming in with a superman punch and then following with a rolling savate to the body. Backing away Tsunami was trying to figure out what else she could do to Death Adder, weary of the many tricks she had up her sleeves.
Whatever tricks were in the Adder’s bag remained tucked inside - ever since leaving the safety of the ring all pretense of elegance or by-the-books encounters were tossed aside. After being hit back with a hard punch and a kick, Adder only glared towards Tsunami - after gritting her teeth and grunting once the blows had subsided. One good turn deserved another and the space between them was again diminished as this time it was the coiled strike of the serpent taking her chance.
Like a sudden sting, so too did Adder jump forth - partially out of desperation - to use her momentum to bring Tsunami to the ground just to start giving mounted punches to the spry woman’s face. Adder’s brow was furrowed and her gaze murderous. Whatever it took to mop up Tsunami, Death Adder was going to find it. Or die trying.
Taken back by Adder’s takedown, she was helpless on her back. She tried to wiggle her way out of the position but she couldn't. This position usually meant she was going to be in some pain very, very soon. There was too much that she could do from this position.
Putting her arms up, she shielded herself from the onslaught of punches. Some went through some were blocked. Tsunami was now put into a position where she had to be more and more desperate. She put her arm on Adder’s abdomen, trying to get her to stand straight up so Tsunami could wiggle her way out. But just as she tried to do so, the bell rang and the referee was waving his hands as if the match was over. Tsunami was confused, but then she realized where she was and sighed in disappointment.
They had both counted themselves out, and neither had won the match.
Even after the bell sounded and the double count-out was ruled, Adder was smirking. To her it wasn’t about winning or losing, it had all been about making a statement. Her final message was a final, definitive punch before standing up to the chorus of boos. She looked over her handiwork, the young Tsunami on the ground, and again Death Adder grinned like a sinister villain. Her grin never faded, even as she walked her way back up the ramp.
Her job was done for the night. | Less.
Do More.
5'4" - 128lbs | 6
|Birth Name |
» Sumalee Rosado
|Hails From |
» Honolulu, Hawaii (Billed from The Tropics of Phuket)
» May 15, 1990 (26)
|Fighting Style |
» Being on the small side of things, especially in terms of stature, Rosado uses a different skillset to find success. She'll never be the one to do heavy lifting or impressive grapples but she more than makes up for it with her fierce agility and hard strikes. What she lacks in strength and height she more than makes up for with pure speed. There's rarely a moment where Rosado isn't running circles around people, and given her agility more often than not she is climbing to the top and using the ropes as a balance beam. To that end, the ring is less a ring to her and more a playground in which to strike from damn near anywhere. It's no surprise that her unpredictable and exciteable antics has earned her some appreciation from those who like a bit of flash. Though she is no stranger to the term, Rosado doesn't consider herself as just some spot monkey - despite her love of acrobatics and impressive leaps, she does bring strikes into the mix - often with her kicks and shockingly far kick span.
Rosado isn't someone you count on the call a match but she is someone you never want to turn your eyes off of. Her accusations of being a spot monkey have led to her embracing the term and gaining the nickname "The Tropical Tamarin" as tamarin are small monkeys that are adept at running, jumping, and avoiding predators.
|Signature Moves |
» Corner Backflip to Dropkick (Or high kicks)
» Springboard Seated Senton
» Springboard/Standing Moonsault
» Enzuiguri
|Finisher |
» Avalanche Shiranui
» Shooting Star DDT
|Theme |
» Kuaga (Lost Time) by Pierce Fulton
|Gimmick |
» Rosado's gimmick, if it could be called that, is her voice. Or rather her lack of one. Rosado has never uttered a single word in her professional career both backstage and in the ring. Not even her social media account(s) have written words in them, her Twitter notoriously known for only consisting of emojis instead of words. Her motto has become, appropriately, 'Talk Less. Do More.' which is a slight against people in the industry who constantly talk talk talk and can't back it up. Rosado's smile and expressions speak loud enough for her and even if they don't then her in-ring presence certainly does. Just because she doesn't talk doesn't mean she can't and it goes without saying that she isn't deaf or anything either. For reasons unknown to all but her, Rosado just doesn't speak at all.
Whether or not that's a gimmick is something no one's really been able to figure out. As far as Rosado is concerned it doesn't really matter that she doesn't speak. It hasn't impacted her career thus far.
|Face or Heel |
» Face. Almost overwhelmingly so. It's hard to hate someone that brings such a wide smile and excitement to the proceedings. Plus, she has that scrappy can-do attitude stemming from her not backing down even when against people twice her weight or size. Rosado is a fan favorite because she's just so damn fun to be around and watch.
|Backstage Rep |
» Not many people are sure what to make of Rosado since she doesn't talk and most don't talk to her because of that. Rosado keeps to herself because of this. Matters of her private life are frustratingly difficult to come by even by the most determined person. Despite her silence, Rosado always likes to give her opponents a slap on the back and a V sign before a match and afterwards a thumbs up even if the match itself wasn't the best. In her still brief career plenty of people have tried to get her to open up be it from trips to a bar or other means but even with some liquor in her she remained mute. In spite of this, the worst people have said about her, other than her silence being some form of arrogance, is that she can be a bit too stiff with her strikes in the ring. Rosado certainly doesn't care if she leaves a match bruised and hurt, nor does it seem like she particularly cares if her opponent leaves in similar condition.
|Other |
» Sumalee Rosado used to be a gymnast, getting a silver medal at State and a gold at Nationals when she was in her young teens. She brings that gymnast experience with her to the ring. Rumors exist of Sumalee Rosado once being scouted for Olympic potential.
» She is a frequent guest on a Thailand based entertainment program thanks to her father being executive producer. She mostly does martial arts kicks since she's a poor interview subject.
» FC is Jeeja Yanin |
49,078 | 1,324 | 51 | 2,573 | 1,662 | Shock N AWE, Sacramento. After Segment 3, during Match 5...
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Following his sister, in a fast paced manner (she was booking it hella’ fast), who wasn’t heading back inside, unusual for Joy, Chance patiently asked, “Where you going? The main event is ‘bout to start.” Stressing his concern with his mellow toned voice, Chance kept his camera on his shoulder, never taking his eyes off her. He didn’t need his twin sense to know she was upset. Her actions spoke loudly, and only an idiot would fail to notice that Joy wasn’t her usual chipper self. Also, she always watched the entire show, but now she was heading outside. For what? He didn’t know.
Once she reached the exit door, Joy turned to look at her twin and gave a faux smile, “I just need some air!” She shooed him away. “And you need to go to your next position. I’ll be back inside for Aftershock. I promise.”
Scrunching his nose, he met his chocolate gaze with her ever-changing blue eyes. They stared at each other for a moment and then it finally clicked.
Ah.
Giving her a nod, he smiled at his soft-hearted, other half, “Don’t be gone for too long, people will start thinking something is up.” Turning around to head inside, he left her with a compliment, “You’re a big part of AWE. Just like ma.” Without Joy, Chance was sure more than enough people would feel a piece was missing. She made tremendous strides and was well loved. Without a doubt, she was their mother’s daughter. The sound of the exit door could be heard and the filmmaker knew his sister was gone, at least for a little while.
Making sure she was not in an area with many others, especially fans, Joy aimlessly walked in a direction that led to a deserted bench, hidden by trees and the dark blanket that was the night sky. Surprisingly close to the arena, but luckily for her, the main event was happening, so the possibility of someone bumping into her was unlikely. Hopefully. Taking a seat, she glanced down at her lap and watched her thumbs fiddle with each other, in silence.
It was nice out...
In less than fifteen minutes, the game of cat and mouse that Joy Ryder and Caiden Everett had been playing the last few weeks shifted. No longer the hunted, Caiden had become the hunter. Luckily for Caiden, he had a secret weapon known as Chance, who guided him and told him the door that Joy had slipped out of. And so, he sniffed her out, wandering until he saw her off in the distance — escape was merely a dream.
He approached the bench wordlessly and didn’t talk as he sat down beside her, choosing instead to stare at the stars as he considered what he wanted to say. “I’m sorry I called you an idiot, that was uncalled for.” And kinda made him look… super dickish. Whoops.
Why was Caiden here? Joy didn’t want him out of everyone that could possibly come and check on her to check on her. He was apologizing? Slightly turning her head to look at him observing the sky, Joy shook her head in disagreement, “No need to be sorry! You were acting. It’s part of the job.” Her face might have been painted with a smile, but her eyes were enough to show that to a degree, she did think she was kind of stupid and to a degree, she was hurt. However, Joy wasn’t a broken record, but... she still was a woman, who lived a life that gave her insecurities, fears, and obstacles that to this day she still needed to work on. For the most part, though, she was happy.
Just not right now.
Women were a tough beast to handle, that much he knew for sure. Despite not having too many long lasting relationships in his career (Caiden Winters considered himself married to the job), he’d interact with them enough to know that a smile only meant they were really upset, not just kind of upset. What did women like? What could he do to repair this? He felt bad! She was Blake’s sister. It was hard to make friends in this line of work, people were always backstabbing each other and being cunts backstage in order to advance, and the friends that you could lock yourself down with, the friends you could trust and care about and love were rare. Few and far between. Blake was his BFFFL, even if that was a high school girl kinda thing. And he couldn’t just leave his best friend’s younger sister all upset!
So what was the answer?! Caiden searched his mind over and over again for something that was failsafe, something that would cheer up any woman, no matter how tragically upset she was. Something that would replace the criminally fake smile with one that was true and genuine. Something that turned Joy’s face back into the one that he wanted to kiss and love…
Wait, what?
Caiden visibly shook himself to banish those thoughts from his head and with that motion, he had his plan. “Let me buy you ice cream after the show. I think there’s a Coldstone Creamery nearby, so we can go there. Okay?” Women loved ice cream, dude. Failsafe.
Ice cream? Caiden wanted to take her out for ice cream? Stunned at the offer, the high school girl crush that she had for him came back, full throttle. This took an unexpected turn, and yet, like a true on-screen professional, she refused to let her internal feelings take surface. She would not blush. Her mind continuously told herself ‘do NOT blush’ and Joy would make damn sure it wouldn’t happen. That being said, her posture straightened and her face did lighten up - so was blushing necessary? “Are you sure? I could pay for my own.”
“Yes, I’m sure. My treat, really not a big deal. Let me buy you ice cream. I’ll drive, too, so you can just ride with me to the hotel room. I assume you’re staying at the same one I am. Again. For no apparent reason.” Though Caiden wouldn’t know it himself, there certainly was a reason for Joy always ending up in his hotel. Two reasons, actually. One really liked donuts, and one was a nerd. Luckily for our donut loving, and nerdy heroes, Caiden Everett would never know the truth. “I can walk you back inside now if you want. Don’t want you to miss Aftershock. Then they’d be fucked.”
She totally forgot! Joy hopped off the bench, checking the time off her wrist watch, “Yeah… the night isn’t over yet.” Glancing up from her watch to his face, she cheerfully (and genuinely) gleamed, “That all sounds wonderful, Caiden… would you?” She paused, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear, before continuing, “Walk me?” Hey, he offered - she had to make sure. If she downright pinched herself to feel how real this all was she’d be far too obvious.
“...I just said…” Caiden paused slightly, looking down at her. Women were confusing sometimes… Caiden cleared his throat slightly, before nodding. “Of course I will. Come on, let’s go.” He put his arm around her shoulder, and off they went, toward the job that they both poured their heart and soul into. Trying her best to hide her face with her hair, Joy’s cheeks grew hot when he wrapped his arm around her…
A date. | Daniel “DC” “Don’t Call Me Danny” “Danny” “Danny Church” Church
6’ - 184 lbs | 12
|Birth Name |
» Daniel Church
|Hails From |
» Sacramento, California
» October 9th, 1985 (31)
|Job at AWE |
» He does not work at AWE. However, he is often at their events and is friends with more than a few wrestlers and backstage employees. He is a wrestling journalist and posts stories as they come and go, and reviews the shows and matches. He reacts accordingly based on how he feels the company is performing, and has no qualms calling out a wrestler or wrestlers for having a shit match, cutting a shit promo, or calling out the powers that be for making their fucking look like goddamn geeks.
|Skills |
» Smooth talking
» Tech savvy
» Dadskills
» Radio host-esque silky smooth voice
» Good at ranting
|Reason for being here |
» When he was younger, in 2001, Daniel Church had a brilliant idea in his school computers class: he’d build a fucking website. Now, the first thing you had to do when building a website, was pick something you were passionate about… at the time, Danny Church was only really passionate about one thing: PROFESSIONAL WRESTLING. Even at the young age of fifteen, DC had a brilliant mind for coding and built a website that was grand, even for the times. It gained a following, and the forums on it exploded in popularity as the tape traders and more hardcore fans finally found a place to talk and get their opinions out there.
The Smark Remark, the website is known as, and it’s only grown since its original inception in mid-2001. Danny made friends with the right people, and after high school, he passed the day-to-day management of the website over to a team of administrators and moderators. The man himself began a focus on the content creation for the website. He hosted podcasts with wrestlers from all over the world, and he began to rate matches.
Every show he saw, either live or on a tape he bought, he rated the match. Over time, his ratings and opinions got a little controversial, with people arguing about whether he was right or wrong, but he there was one thing they agreed on: he was consistent. He also wrote reports on rumors that he heard, and posted opinions and frequently participated in conversations on the message boards.
Four years after graduating, when Danny was 22, his then girlfriend, Clarissa Whitaker, gave birth to his two beautiful children. Twins, a boy and a girl. Robert and Cynthia, Bobby and Cyn. His babies and his life — other than work. They are turning ten in January of next year, and attend an online school to make it easier on Daniel to travel around for his job. They haven’t seen their mother since they were two; as it turns out, their mother was… crazy, to say the least. After Daniel discovered her drug habits and realized she was a poison in his life, he cut her out and got full custody of his children.
Since then, the single dad life has been the life for him. Working and taking care of two rascals isn’t exactly the easiest lot in life, but… he makes it work. When he was called up by Walter Durrel, who proposed combining their two mediums a few years ago, DC jumped on the opportunity. Together now, they put out podcasts reviewing AWE mostly, as that’s Walter’s preferred company. In return, Danny Church offers the Smark Remark’s website as a new home for the Wrestling Journal. They make a surprisingly good team so far.
|Looks & Style |
» Decked out from head to toe in wrestling gear, Danny doesn’t give a FUCK about how people think of him in public. He’s a hardworking single father, get bent. He’ll sometimes match or contradict his children when they go to the shows — both of his kids are huge fans too.
|Personality Traits |
» Danny is brutal and quick to be critical. He doesn’t listen to the reasons for things sucking and just accepts that they suck. If a wrestler isn’t working at their full capacity because of injuries? Whatever, stop fucking working. Utilize your roster, people.
He’s fun to talk to, and is good at telling stories and ranting and making other people who agree with him happy. He often gets into long winded debates on his podcast with Walter, but as a person Danny honestly looks forward to it every night.
Deep down, he’s just a mark, dude. He loves wrestling, everything about it from the ground up is amazing, and he can’t get enough. The fact that he built something great out of his love for wrestling amazes him to this day, and the Smark Remark is his baby. He enjoys posting on the message boards to this day, and recording the weekly podcasts is something he lovingly looks forward to every day.
It’s his second baby, the thing he loves most right behind his children.
|Favorite wrestler |
» Caiden goddamn fucking Winters, fuck you Roddy for burying the best wrestler to ever grace this goddamn planet. And Retribution. Excited for him to come, which I'M SURE HE'LL DO EVENTUALLY ONCE RODERICK QUINN PULLS HIS HEAD OUT OF HIS FUCKING ASS. Gethin's a personal favorite too, at least he gets used properly by those idiots.
And fuck you Drayden, I bet you encouraged that shit, didn’t you? Gotta GO OVER EVERYONE. Asshole. And of course, my fucking kid loves you so I have all that stupid merchandise in my fucking HOUSE.
Trinity’s cool too.
And Morgana.
What? I can’t hate the kids’s favorites, I’d be an asshole.
Except for Drayden. Fuck you. And fuck your stupid fat head wall stickers, now you’re stuck to the goddamn wall behind my FUCKING COUCH.
|Rep at AWE |
» Honestly, most people at the AWE don’t really like him. Daniel is loud, brash, and he doesn’t care about calling them out if they do something stupid. If you botch one goddamn move you better believe DC will roast the fuck out of you. You lose a match looking like a geek and hate it? Too goddamn bad, Danny Church knows full well you’re a NERD and you’ll never live it down.
But, he’s undeniably good at the job, and they actually take his ratings seriously. The few wrestlers that Danny fanboys about are quite fond of him, and he does a good podcast that wrestlers try to take advantage of. It can just be hard to deal with someone that’s going to call out every little mistake you make, even when it’s more blamed on the booking team than yourself.
He also has a tendency to post rumors about who’s going to win or lose a match, and rarely checks the validity of his source. Unlike his partner, Walter, Daniel Church is not a journalist. He’s angry millennial who thinks Roderick Quinn is ruining his goddamn favorite thing by blowing Drayden and giving him everything he asks for.
This doesn’t stop every member of the locker room from obsessively checking his reviews, though. Even Roddy does it.
|Other |
» 16a064
» Jensen Ackles. |
49,079 | 1,324 | 52 | 1,435 | 3,654 | The night of Shock N AWE Sacramento...
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It was a nice evening at the hotel. A welcome break from the show, accompanied by movies and all the perks room service came with. In fact, Michael had to do a double take with all the plates and boxes littered about the luxury room. He rubbed the back of his neck, already exhausted from the thought of working it all off. Whatever. Michael knew him and Ari had worked hard to get where they were. They deserved it. Speaking of which, Michael turned to the balcony, walking up to the doorframe and leaning against it. Michael smiled as he took in the sight of his Queen, on and off stage, sitting on the balcony, the view of the moon glaring onto her like a radiant angel of the twilight. Ariel seemed to be thinking about something. The night always seemed to comfort her and let her thoughts flow. It was cute.
“What you thinking about, darlin’?” Michael asked in his thick accent, forgetting that people might be able to see him in just his sweatpants.
Ariel Flannagan, Mrs. Flannagan, on stage known as Ari Slayer, hugged her right leg, as she sat on the balcony of her and her husband’s hotel room in Sacramento. Low acoustic music (Everlong by Foo Fighters) played out of her phone, while she traveled the depths of her mind, her mindscape, a wandering haven for endless thoughts that only mattered to her really and maybe her husband.
She didn’t talk often about the other half of her that wasn’t just wrestling. While her sister modeled on the side, Ariel wrote screenplays and made short animations (yes, she owned a graphic tablet). Wrestling was her life, but it wasn’t all that she could do. If there was one thing the dark beauty needed to do, it was keep herself busy or she’d feel inclined to go back to bad habits like drinking in abundance and snorting coke. With an addictive personality, focusing on the things that keep her going, which would be wrestling and animation, Ariel is able to avoid thinking about anything in regards to her past and how much she and Alice had to work to get where they were today. Her instagram is filled with cute comics and short clips of the world of AWE, which actually added to her growing popularity since no one took notice of her until she had the ‘Queen of the Rebels’ reputation going for her.
Her laptop was closed and there was no food on her plates, since she ate everything she brought out with her and some. If there was one thing her and Michael had in common, it was their appetite. They ate a lot and still weren’t as large as their coworkers. A curse or a blessing. For her, at least, she wasn’t always fortunate to have food on her plate, not because her parents couldn’t afford it, but because as a form of punishment, they intentionally starved her and her sister. Their disciplinary methods were harsh, which is probably why her and Alice went to the extent to never be home and eventually live with their aunt. Alice had it easier because their parents forgave her, more so than they forgave Ariel. Partially because she was the baby and partially because Alice knew how to manipulate them and get their eyes to look elsewhere. So long as their baby kept busy, doing gymnastics and acting, what could possibly go wrong?
But, Ariel’s personal life up until marrying Michael was a bag of worms that is now in the past. Not worth revisiting. Not worth talking about. Not worth her time. She was doing well and that was all because she worked her ass off. She was honestly surprised when someone came to her from AWE and wanted to recruit her. Told her to try out for the AWE Performance Center, purely based on her Parkour and Freerunning videos with some of her friends. She had most of what it took to be an AWE superstar. Athleticism. Determination. Coachability. Professionalism (even though sometimes she did break out in frustration, they did take that passion and told her to utilize it in the ring). But what she strongly lacked, which she somehow obtained when she got heavily involved with Michael was she lacked the ‘IT’ factor. Also known as charisma that separated her from the rest of the roster. She still isn’t top of the charts charismatic and doesn’t have that innate ability like her sister, but she’s making waves and that’s not something she could’ve said when she started off.
Ariel is nowhere near Morgana and Barbie level of stardom, but she does think she’s getting there, just more blood, sweat, and tears then she’ll be there. For the meantime, she had something entirely unrelated to any of this on her mind. Her brother-in-law, Benjamin Kennedy, who has a new act (coming soon!), and his Harley Quinn-esque valet, her sister, Alice, would debut within the next couple of months, but she wasn’t necessarily sure when. But both of them were traveling with the team, so it was bound to happen soon, she’d like to think. As the sister of a lovable Alice, Ariel needed to do something for them. Hopefully, she would find out the exact day they were debuting because planning would go a lot smoother if she knew exactly when.
Maybe she should talk to one of the writers…
Regardless, Alice never fails to do something for her, or her husband, whether it’s their birthdays or a random day of the week, her sister could make anyone feel loved by doing little things to show that she loved them. Gifts upon gifts or hangouts that kept the family close. “We should do something for them.” Ariel softly responded to her husband, still looking up at the night sky. “So far I’m thinking a drunk night out, but maybe that’s not sentimental enough…”
No one could deny the hard work that his wife put in over the years. Michael remembered every night he had to console Ari from her frustrations from the performance centre. Truly, her passion took charge many times but she always bounced back. Now Ariel was finally getting the recognition she deserved. Her hard work was beginning to pay off, and Michael was enthralled every time he could watch the woman of his desires perform, even more so when they performed together.
Not to say, there weren’t some rough periods in their relationship. Life’s not one straight road, and anyone who doesn’t expect twists and turns are considered foolish to Michael. A rough treatment from childhood led Ariel to develop some bad habits during the start of her adult life. Michael would never think about what life would be like for his wife if she had continued to abuse substances. However, deep conversations, a bit of TLC, and perhaps an argument or two along the way, Ariel managed to pull through, stronger than ever. At least, Michael likes to think so. Even if other people didn’t know Ari’s past, her success started to show. Michael knew that she was destined for more, and would work every moment to share the spotlight.
Michael scratched the back of his head in thought. His wife was right. Alice and Benjamin deserved some form of a treat to celebrate their debut. They also had been working hard, while Alice had natural talent in the role of a valet, Ben finally hit his stride in developmental and the lead team were ready to release the monster that would be “Mordecai”. Of course, this had to be celebrated. Although, Michael couldn’t help but tread cautiously around the situation, especially when Ariel mentioned alcohol. Not that it’s a bad thing, in moderation. Ari had been doing so well, he’d hate to see her streak end like that. "Perhaps. What about a chilled evening at their favorite spot? A restaurant perhaps? Could be a fun double date.” Michael offered, pulling up a seat next to his wife.
“The only problem with that is… I need to figure out when they are debuting exactly because who knows where we will be. My guesses? Hm, Requiem in October, which is in London. Alice is a bit scattered brain, so she hasn’t been really helpful. Or, which this is extremely likely, she doesn’t know herself. I do want to get her a gift card to a spa, which I’m sure Ben wouldn’t mind a professional massage and saunas galore. It’ll be good for their bodies. But I also like your idea too, so we could do both… but your idea might be where we wing it. Or, we hunt a writer down and find out more details.” Ariel was in thinking mode, which meant she said a thousand things in the course of seconds. Not known for being lucrative, but when she did talk more than usual, she talked extremely fast and sometimes, it was hard to keep up with her, if you weren’t use to it, “Add a gift basket with some champagne and lingerie, sounds like fun times to be had.”
Michael nodded. "Well, unless you’re modelling, you can take the lingerie job.” He joked with a smile and a wink. It would be a bit weird for a married guy to pick out lingerie for his wife’s sister. Okay, it would be very weird. ”Why don’t we make a day out of it? Start with the spa treat, probably drag Ben if we have to.” Michael began, knowing how unsocial Ben can be sometimes. "Then when we find out when and where, we’ll search up restaurants in the area. What kind of food should we go for?” Michael asked, thinking the compromise would be a good day out, whatever city or country they’re in.
Letting out a gentle chuckle, Ariel rolled her eyes at her lover before responding, “Ben’s on a strict diet, now that I think about it. The only time he really breaks it, it’s to eat hot Cheetos. Maybe scratch the food thing, and just have an entire day at a spa. You’d be surprised with how much you can do there, that’s where Alice took me for my bachelorette weekend getaway. Completely disconnected from the outside world, walking around with a bathrobe, being pampered and indulging in nothing but relaxation. There’s whirlpools, mist rooms, saunas. The saunas aren’t even just hot. There’s one sauna, which was personally my favorite, called ‘Iceland’. After sweating in a hot sauna, you can go there to cool off. It’s great. The walls were like an igloo. Ice everywhere but the floor and your bench. Also, the restaurants there are pretty par, so when we are hungry we will have options. I like this plan!”
Michael looked at the plate on the table then back into their hotel room. "The fuck’s a diet?” Michael mumbled, joking about again. It was strange the stark comparison between Michael Flanagan and Ajax Flanagan. Michael listened intently to Ari’s story about her bachelorette weekend at the Iceland spa. It sounded pretty relaxing, but there was one thing that bothered him. "Babe? Am I really gonna plant my bare arse on a block of ice?” He asked, tongue in cheek. His spine shivered at the thought.
“No, no sweetie. That’s just a sauna. Not the entire spa. Like a lot of the amenities at a spa makes you sweat, but this room is suppose to be refreshing. It really is. You aren’t actually sitting on ice. The temperatures are a bit lower than the other rooms that give you dry or wet heat sessions… does that make sense?” He’d understand when he was there. Ariel’s stomach growled. Bringing her leg down, she rested her hands on her stomach, “You know what would be amazing right now, cheesecake.” She looked at her husband and gave him a childlike grin, adding a wink for extra measure.
A look of sudden realisation swept across his face when he was told there wasn’t blocks of ice around every corner. "Ohhhhhhh…” He exhaled. Michael took the view in one more time before his wife decided she needed even MORE food! There were only two things Michael wondered about Ariel. Her stunning beauty and how the hell she can eat so much. Like, where does it go? He rolled his eyes and looked back at the mountain of dishes. In for a dime, in for a dollar. "If I can find the phone…” | I see you!
The best things in life are dangerous, like me.
5' ¾", 106 lbs - 5'8", 135 lbs
2 years Developmental, will debut soon with her husband
3 Years at AWE, 2 years at Developmental. 5 years total.
|Birth Name |
» Alice Jane Slayer (Kennedy)
» Ariel Michelle Slayer (Flanagan)
|Hails From |
» Atlanta, GA
» April 17 (26)
» October 22 (23)
|Backstage Rep |
» You got all these sweethearts dressed as bitches, guess what? Ari is a fucking bitch on and off the ring. She does not like you. It takes her a LONG time to accept you into her world because your flaws are blaring red and she fucking hates it. Some people do not get the concept of personal space. If she's doing her own thing, don't interrupt her. She enjoys dark humor, other people's drama, and crude people. Constantly observing her surroundings, she will size you up before you approach her. Ruthless. Entitled. & Impatient. She was never fond of dealing with people, which is honestly her biggest weakness on the ring. Charisma, that is. It isn't something that comes naturally to her like it does for her little sister.
As flawed as Ari is, those she does let in, like her husband, Michael Flanagan, know that she does mean well, but due to personal experiences, her built mechanism of verbally lashing out at people to protect her own, has gotten to a point where she can't really break it down over night. Ari is a tough cookie and audaciously bold. A risk taker, through and through. A primadonna is an understatement of her personality and Ari refuses to be considered less than. She aims to be in the big leagues, even if it means she might break a few bones...
You see, she and Michael were already dating prior to their debut at AWE, which was near the same time. It wasn't hard for him to gain attraction because even if he leans more on the timid side when he's out of character, he's a phenomenal heel and it shined through since day 1. Ari, however, spent her first two years figuring out her image. She was simply a blank canvas, a doll of a woman, and a temperamental wrestler, who fought well enough to get her to the mid card but required A LOT of polishing, as she tried her downright best to 'find herself' in the ring.
A year ago, Michael and her got married, and for a year, the writers have been pushing her more toward his storyline to enhance his biker boy look and guess what? It's working. People are starting to see the character behind the bitch. While Ajax is the tail gunner of his motorcycle gang, Fallen Angels, she is his queen. The Bonnie to his Clyde, who knows her way around her gun, or in this case the ring, and isn't afraid to use that to her advantage. She's a tough-talking, quick-shooting criminal and is growing to be a machine gun-blazing woman who you better not underestimate. Whenever she's threatened, she doesn't even flinch, she jumps right in and marks her territory. Fearless and it's all thanks to the writers pushing her more in the direction of the rebel girl archetype because it's something Ariel can actually relate to.
Fun fact: She isn't fond of motorcycles, but for love, she'll get on one.
» Amore hasn't debuted yet, but her face is known backstage because of her sister. The young, energetic valet aspires to be as influential as Jezebel (FC: Jessa Hinton), who was the Faceless' on-screen eye candy and eventual wife. Jezebel may have made the Faceless seem more humane, but Amore? She wants to do more than be an accessory for her love. Revolutionize the role of valets all over! At the root of it all, Alice is a business woman, who doesn't just want to 'accompany' her husband when she's on the ring with him. She wants to get heavily involved in the action inside, outside, within the audience-- ANYWHERE. A dreamer, the doll aims to earn the loudest pops of the night. Her beloved Benjamin tells her she has a niche and that is her charisma. Her stage presence. When Amore is in the spotlight, there is no doubt people will be starstruck.
Sneaky, cunning, and without hesitation, Amore will do absolutely anything for Mordecai to heighten his chances of winning. It helps that she has one sexy act that no one can top. Rated R, sexy-goodness. She acts like a child, but moves her body like a woman. Her influence is undeniable and even if wrestling isn't her top skill (it's singing and acting), she will go down in history!
As for backstage? A lovable, naive, playful and misleading young adult. Careless and foolish. Accidental prone when she isn't performing. Alice doesn't want to grow up, so she'll act far younger than she is. Oh, and she's scary possessive over her husband.
|Other |
» FCs: Kerli Kõiv & Jana
» 721728 & 324C83
|Fighting Style |
» Ari keeps you on your toes, you never know what to expect and has a passion for power. Known for her agility, high stunts, and her attitude, Ari, from the get go, set her sight on cleaning up the Divas division, showing that girls were more than accessories and tools. Even her sister, who does strut her body like it's nobody's business, isn't just that. A body. Amore is a character, whose insanity and giggles will be what the people remember. Psychotic little girl trapped in a woman's form.
Meanwhile, Ari has commitment to excellence and wants to be recognized as a professional wrestler, with Ajax by her side. Her goal: to be one of the most vicious Divas of her era. She doesn't even have to be one of the stars, she just wants to be scary. Although she isn't there yet, she will continue to work her ass off. Her current success is all thanks to her athleticism, hotheaded personality, impressive arsenal of offensive maneuvers, and her husband's biker persona.
Ari has countless ways of finishing her opponents and she will not give into status quo. A true queen of the rebels.
|Signature Moves |
» Highside (Diving Hurricanrana)
» Ari Bomb (Lita Bomb)
» Eating Asphalt (Swanton Bomb)
» Helmet Head (Hardiac Arrest)
|Finisher |
» Boneyard Moonsault (Moonsault)
» New Prime (Widow's Peak)
|Theme |
» Whatever she had before, doesn't matter. Now she has Superhuman to match Ajax.
|Gimmick |
» As said earlier in backstage rep, Ari is Ax's Bonnie to his Clyde. His ride or die. They have a fiery dynamic and shower each other with attention. They are motivated by chasing the danger, excitement, and action of wrestling. He's the gun, she's the trigger. If Ari isn't happy, Ajax is pissed. He might be the King of the Hill but without his queen, the high of living it dangerous 24/7 isn't as addicting. They're into each other in a visceral and physical way. There is a sense of co-dependency and downright bat-shit insanity between these two. Ariel even went out of her way to get 'His' tattoo on her lower back, to match Michael's "Hers" tattoo on his arm, to add to their act (when he wraps his arm around her, the audience would know - she belongs to him). A psychotic and possessive love story where their need for one another is absolutely dangerous for anyone, including each other.
Soon enough, the audience will learn crazy runs in the Slayer family because when Amore makes her debut, they'll see that the blonde is light years ahead in the insanity department.
As for fashion sense? Ari is a daredevil biker chick. Leather jacket with the Fallen Angels symbol, bustiers to showcase her stomach and her back (especially when her coat is off), leather boots, denim, the color scheme black and white, bandannas, anything really that makes her look like a total badass.
|Face or Heel |
» Heel
|Job at AWE |
» Amore will be a valet for Mordecai, who is her husband off screen.
|Skills |
» Persistent and high physical stamina
Charming and full of energy, Alice is an energetic doer, cheerful and extremely spontaneous. A true woman of action. Even if she doesn't seem it, she has strong observational skills and a keen sense to other people's feelings. Quite the problem solver, regardless of her outlandish methods. This spirited blonde would like to think she's an excellent diplomat and negotiator, especially when it comes to her pitching ideas. By nature, she's too open and direct to deliberately manipulate someone (lies and manipulation is foreign to her, unless it's for an act), but she will fight her cause until there isn't any fight left in her.
» Improviser
Perceptive, witty, and clever. Rarely missing anything that is important, because she approaches everything with curiosity and interest, Alice will take impossible situations and make 'em great. Her memory for details and facts are impressive. She absorbs everything that interests her like a sponge, storing it in her noggin for later use.
» Dancing, acting, and gymnastic experience.
Pretty point blank, Alice kept her family busy by getting them to sign her up to as much as possible so she can get better at... life. Also, with such a busy schedule when she was younger, she didn't need to be home, which was a far more pleasant option than dealing with the turmoil. Her home life drew her insane. Convincing her parents to get her involved in the community was the easy part, making them part of it, her life, though? Not so much.
» Odd & blessed with boundless creativity
Alice has always been a little weirdo. Too much individuality for one girl. And yet, she doesn't know how to be any different. Sure, some of her creative ideas are concerning and creepy, but why should she limit herself? If her mind wants to run rampant, it should! Being different isn't a bad thing and Alice will never change for anyone.
|Looks & Style |
» Inspired by her aunt, who led a broken family with dignity and grace, Amore strives to be a visual masterpiece. Her aunt was a woman who carried whatever she wore like a queen. A queen who had an undeniable ability to live a life of pure kindness. Alice's goal, no matter where she is, or if she's being Amore or not, is to make her image timeless. Definitive and iconic, to where it is her trademark. Her look. A look that pushes boundaries and continues to evolve. Alice wants to be a trend setter, a walking fashion statement, and when people look at their television screen or see her on the ring, she wants them to recognize her immediately and maybe, just maybe, follow her as an example. If she can aspire others to walk with an air of confidence, loving who they were, while also not being afraid to explore out of the box, then her life would be more than fulfilled.
What more could you ask for? She's happily married, she has endless projects that make her smile, she's about to start the career of her life that will hopefully set her on a remarkable path of happiness and success, and if she's able to move someone or an entire audience in ways not many people can, then she can say she is more than satisfied with the life she's been given.
Hardships aside. Alice is a happy girl.
|Personality Traits |
» Visionary → Imaginative → Fun-Loving → Gregarious → Persistent → Dutiful (even if she is unbeknownst to the fact that she's a tease) → Exuberant → Trusting → Picky → Dependent → Reckless → Fearful (primarily of her husband leaving her)
|Favorite wrestler |
» She's biased. Her husband, even if he hasn't made his mark yet. Alice will make it known that he's HER favorite. |
49,080 | 1,324 | 53 | 2,789 | 249 | Segment 2: Sexton P.S. Love Post-Match Promo
Like a piece of plywood, Thunderbird got screwed. Zachary Wake was advancing in the tournament.
Sexton Love climbed back into the ring, the same steel chair in his hands and the same Lakers jersey on his back. The jersey was simulataneously a cheap shot at the Sacramento fans, while at the same time a complete contradiction to Sexton's promo last week in L.A. He didn't plan to mention anything about the jersey, but it's presence just added that nice little extra layer of "fuck you" that the Love Doctor was looking for. But by the time the night was over, he was going to be a "fuck you" tiramisu.
CRACK!
The Lovely One lined up Thunderbird again, tattooing his forehead with a vile chairshot. He turned and started aggressively yelling at the fans, chair still in hand, while the Bird lay face down on the mat. As the proud warrior attempted to somehow push himself up off the canvas it was obvious he was busted open, a long cut at the top of his hairline, just above the mask. Blood was dripping down on the mat as Thunderbird tried to stand. Sexton wheeled around immediately brought the chair crashing down again.
SMACK!
The King of the Road threw down the chair, as the King of the Sky lay motionless from the attack. Sexton climbed on top of his adversary and began raining down short, piston-like punches as the boos from the crowd grew louder and louder. The gash on Thunderbird's head was a bullseye, and the Sexcellence of Sexecution was determined to hit his mark. Blood continued to pour from the wound, running down Thunderbird's mask to his chest. His hair was soaked in crimson red as Sexton finally relented his barrage of blows.
"Gimme a fuckin' mic!" said Sexton, hoping this would not become a trademark phrase. He ripped the microphone from the announcer's hand at ringside, and rolled back into the ring.
"I TOLD YA DADDEH!" yelled Sexton, pausing for a moment as the crowd voiced their displeasure. "I told ya that I needed the gold. I told ya that I NEEDED the World's Heavyweight Title!"
"Boooooooooo!"
He kicked Thunderbird in the head again as the Bird began to sitr.
"I am the Sexcellence of Sexecution!"
Kick.
"The King of the Ring--"
Kick.
"And the KING OF THE ROAD!"
Kick.
"The Sexiest There Is! Sexiest There Was! And SEXIEST THERE EVER WILL BE!"
Kick. Kick. Kick.
At this point the blood was really flowing, and Thunderbird's entire chest was drenched. He looked like he had undergone some sort of bizarre baptismal ritual. Sexton couldn't help but chuckle at the thought. The Bird's outfit wasn't doing him any favors either.
"...But you STOLE it from me darlin'. You stole the World's Heavyweight Championship belt when you stole that match last week. You're a THIEF daddeh, and I can't let that crime go unpunished. No, no, no. NO WAY darlin'."
Sexton paused for a moment, relishing in the heat of the moment.
"I'm the PIPER WITH THE PIPE..." said Sexton, pointing to his crotch. "...And EVERYBODY PAYS."
"Booooooooo! Fuck you Sexton! Get the fuck outta here!"
"...I'm the man with the plan, the man with the POWER, too sweet to be sour, too hot to handle, and too COLD TO HOLD. I am the judge... jury... and SEXECUTIONER!"
In truth, Sexton didn't expect Thunderbird to be bleeding so badly, but there wasn't much that could be done about it now. Besides, it had given him an idea. A pretty messed up idea.
He walked over to the corner and picked up Thunderbird's Native American headdress. Last week, he had tore up one of the Bird's headdresses in their match, to great effect, and he had something similar in mind for tonight.
"Birdy baby, I bet you thought when you stole that match last week, you were heading UP in the world. I bet you thought you were FLYIN' straight to the top darlin'. Straight to the Tournament Finals, and straight to the World's Heavyweight Title..."
He tore off a single feather from the headdress, and threw it down on Thunderbird's limp and lifeless body.
"Well daddeh I just clipped you're wings and brought you crashing down to Earth... And mark my words, when it's all said and done, I will put you SIX FEET UNDER!"
Again Sexton tore at Thunderbird's ceremonial garb, ripping off more feathers and throwing them down as his adversary, repeatedly kicking Thunderbird's carcas as he did so. Some fans in the crowd had stopped their relentless booing and jeering, and as the camera panned around the arena they could be seen with their hands over their mouths, looking on almost in shock at what was transpiring. Sexton Love was known for his over-the-top gimmick and promo style, but fans had seemingly forgotten just how vicious he could be. The level of violence and disrespect being shown towards Thunderbird, a legitimate hero as far as professional wrestlers were concerned, served as a reminder.
"I am a man's man and a ladies' man...but make no mistake about it, I'm a BAD MAN darlin'. A bad, bad man. And after I'm done with you, after your price has been paid, I'm taking the World's Heavyweight Title. Because SEX....... SELLS!"
The Man They Call Love stood tall over The Man They Call Bird, as the torn up feathers from Thunderbird's head dress were now stuck to the blood all over his body. Blood that had been spilled by Sexton P.S. Love.
Thunderbird had been tarred and feathered, with his own blood as the tar. | Sexton P.S. LoveThe Sexcellence of Sexecution
6'4 - 269 lbs. | 10 years experience
|Hails From |
» Venice Beach, California
» July 29th 1988 (29)
|Fighting Style |
» Despite the flashy tights and flashy women, the Lovely One's in-ring style is anything but flashy. A true student of the game, Sexton Love has developed into a highly respected ring general, working an old school heel style. During a match, Sexton spends as much time focused on the women at ringside as he does on his opponent, and will frequently bail out of the ring to flex and pose in front of his female fans.
|Signature Moves |
» Sex Plex (Rolling German Suplex w/bridge)
» Piledriver
» Impale-Her DDT
» Massive Package (small package)
|Finisher |
» Sexecutor (Torture Rack Neckbreaker)
» Love Lock (Muta Lock)
|Theme |
»
|Gimmick |
» The Sexiest There Is, Sexiest There Was, and Sexiest There Ever Will Be...
Sexton P.S. (Purely Sex) Love is a sleazy, arrogant, womanizing heel with a seemingly endless stream of catchphrases. Sex sells, and nobody sells it better than Sexton Love. His main influences are Superstar Billy Graham, Macho Man Randy Savage, The Universal Hearthrob Austin Idol, and of course, Ravishing Rick Rude. Sexton Love is here to bring sexy BACK to American Wrestling Entertainment darlin', and become the new AWE World's Heavyweight Champion. He wants the title on his waist and the camera on his face daddeh, because whether you like it or not...SEX...SELLS!
|Face or Heel |
» HEEL
|Backstage Rep |
» Ask anyone in the wrestling business about Sexton Love, and they'll tell you the same thing: he lives his gimmick. His fans may be known as the "Sex Addicts," but in real life he is the one with the addiction. He goes out every night, in every town, and has established a network of devoted ring rats from coast to coast. "I'm the KING OF THE ROAD daddeh." His most important possession is his fanny pack, containing a Skittles-like cocktail of pain killers, Viagara, and natural male enhancement.
|Other |
» Face Claim: Michael P.S. Hayes |
49,081 | 1,324 | 54 | 1,435 | 3,654 | “For this match, we’re joined on commentary by the one and only, Oscar O’Sullivan himself. He has a particular interest in this match, as whichever competitor wins, he will face in the next round of the tournament. Who would you like to face of the two?”
”Well, Wade. I’ve done my research on both guys. I already know a lot about Savaka. I mean, he is the Intercontinental champion. He’s no slouch in the ring, but c’mon. He’s a peace-loving monk. And Ludwig von Moltbag? What was his name? Never heard of him before. Sounds like a clown with a name like that. I don’t think either really pose a threat to me, but who knows? I could be proven wrong tonight.”
“Don’t get cocky. If there’s one thing I’ve learned over my years calling matches — and I’ve got a few years under my belt — it’s that exactly what you don’t expect to happen… will. You’ll find yourself getting locked in one of Savaka’s holds before long, and then what? You tap.”
“What? That isn’t being cocky. That isn’t being over-confident. Ain’t nobody got time to think less of themselves. To be a star, you gotta’ believe you are one and Oscar sure as hell believes he’s one. The one and only.”
The jobber got the first entrance. Ludwig von Moltbaug was the wrestling persona of a local fixture of the indie scene, a heel complete with monocle, pocket watch, and gold and black trunks. The Praxeological Pugilist, the Arch Grappler of the Austrian School marched his way to the ring with an air dignity and derision for the common men of the arena’s audience, literally turning up his nose at the sight of them as his entrance music played. He stood there in the ring, playing up his mannerisms until his arrogance was practically seeping out of him.
”Jeez, Wade, look at this guy. Somebody call the circus. They’ve got an act missing!”
“Hey, he’s a competitor just like you.” In a surprising lack of professionalism from Wade, there were chuckles laced into what he was saying.
“Damn exhibitionists. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure Ludwig von Moltbaug got some things up his sleeves, but I’m with Oscar on this one. The guy looks ridiculous.”
Savaka’s music kicked in with the sound of Sanskrit chants, and the fog machine induced cloud gave way to show him rising from his prostration at the top of the entrance ramp. He walked to the ring in a measured fashion, eyes closed and hands clasped together, the sign of someone at peace with the world. After both competitors were in the ring, the lights turned on to full brightness and the bell rung, signaling the start of the match.
“Here comes the champion. What an awesome run from him we’ve seen over the past few months. Savaka has a unique fighting style that is unlike any other, and he wows crowds everytime he comes out here, with his ability to grapple like no other can.”
”Was that a challenge? That sounded like a challenge.”
“Those were some fightin’ words! Wade doesn’t think you can get out of Savaka’s Tripitaka Lock, Oscar. You gonna’ let him believe that? You gonna’ let him underestimate your skills?” If there was one thing Kane had a natural talent for, it was egging people on and being a massive troll. But hey, at least he knew how to make the wrestlers look good. All in a day’s job.
”Let him believe what he wants to believe, Kane. Next round of the tournament, I will show him by example how easy it is for the One! And! Only! Oscar O’sullivan to slip out of a Tripitaka Lock!”
Savaka wore a bemused, calm expression on his face, keeping his eyes on Ludwig as both circled. Ludwig threw a wide punch and Savaka ducked it, the follow up also failed to land. Then he grabbed at Savaka’s robe, balling up a portion of fabric in his hand. Savaka grabbed Ludwig’s forearm behind the elbow, and pulled in. A simple wristlock ensued, forcing Ludwig’s palm to hyperextend, and causing him to wince in pain. Struggling got Ludwig a little more distance, but Savaka held onto the wrist and flexed it again, turning it into a different lock. Flipping and rolling around the ring looked impressive, but Savaka followed every move of Ludwig’s and kept the lock on, all showing no emotion. When Ludwig stopped to catch his breath, Savaka pulled the arm wide and snuck his foot behind Ludwig’s legs, then sent him down to the mat with a gentle push from his other hand.
”Nothing Ludwig von Moltborg is doing is working! He just cannot get out of that hold! I guess they didn’t teach him how to escape a wristlock at the nineteenth century steam train museum!
“I don’t think that’s the case — I think you, Mr. O’Sullivan, have been doing nothing but underestimating Savaka all night long. I think that Ludwig von Moltbaug, as it’s properly pronounced, is locked in holds by an expert grappler, and that he’s never faced someone who can lock it in quite like Savaka can. You can’t beat what you’ve never experienced before!”
“Are you insinuating that Oscar won’t be able to take him down? Both of them have been in the business for a long time. The golden rule of life is to never underestimate your rivals, but is it underestimating when you know who you are and what you’re capable of? Hell, Savaka probably doesn’t think Oscar has what it takes either.”
With Ludwig on the ground, Savaka wrenched the arm harder, using his legs and getting low. When Savaka got close, Ludwig saw an opportunity, and kicked him right in the forehead. Savaka staggered and held onto the arm, rolling back and turning it into an arm drag just as Ludwig was using the opportunity to stand up. While on his back, Savaka changed his grip and wrapped his legs on either side of the arm, setting up a cross armbreaker on Ludwig, who anticipated the move and rose to his feet, then pushed down to try and stop Savaka from extending the arm.
”Both men seem to be at an impasse. Savaka’s a fluid, scientific, precise grappler, no doubt about that, but look how he’s been stopped in his tracks from such a simple act of resistance from Ludvig Von Meatbag!”
“Let’s wait and see how this turns out, don’t count the AWE’s premiere submission specialist out quite yet!”
“Hah. Meatbag. I like that.”
”Thank you, Kane. Somebody here gets it.
For a brief moment, Ludwig leaned enough weight on Savaka to get both shoulders down and the referee started to count a pin. Not disturbed at all, Savaka simply pushed out and wove one of his legs around the arm, then sat up to break Ludwig’s posture down. One slight adjustment with his other leg and the Tripitaka Lock was complete, with Savaka sitting in his meditative posture until the quick tap from Ludwig let him know the match was over. He thanked the pouting Ludwig for the match, then did a slight bow before leaving the ring.
“And just like that, we have our final quarterfinals match on lockdown. Next week it’ll be Oscar O’Sullivan vs Savaka, and Gethin Rhys vs Owen Sparks. Still to come tonight: Thunderbird vs Zachary Wake and Chaos Clayton vs the Initiate. Stay tuned!”
“Oh!” Kane wiggled his pencil in between his fingers, before finishing the match with a sell, “If you’re currently subscribed to the AWE network, we’d like to get you and your friends involved in the heat. If you refer a friend to the AWE network, and sign up yourself, both of you will receive a twenty five dollar gift card to aweshop.com! Though, if I were you, I’d refer TEN friends. That’s 250 dollars worth of merch. Yeahhhh boi.”
There’s little in the way of fanfare as the pounding bass and hard hitting flow drones out, announcing the presence of someone who was clearly not one the gathered crowd was interested in seeing. Standing on the ramp, basked in the singular spotlight illuminating her, was a woman whose first identifiable feature was the crimson of her lips against the pale tone that was her skin. Her attire caught the light as well, making the all black outfit shine thanks to its sheen.
The black jacket with engraved white sleeves was hanging off her already, more for style than function, and her style was certainly on display; from the sleeveless top that rested above her navel, to the equally black pair of shorts that matched the near thigh-high boots; as far as attire went it was hardly conventional, but it was clear from the makeup and accessories that this was a woman who cared more about the style than the usability.
There was purpose in her stance, as she stood there in the spotlight listening to the thumping notes of her music. The thin fingers of her right hand were curled around a microphone and she lifted her left hand, closing it into a fist to kill the music. She had all the time in the world between here and the ring, and she was going to use every moment of it.
"I don’t know about you all but I’m bored. I’m bored of what passes for talent in the women’s locker room - though let’s not pretend the men are doing much better. How could I NOT be, with what slim pickings there are. Never in my life have I seen a larger gathering of basic bitches and fakers failing - or sleeping - their way upwards. And I come from Los Angeles, where every corner coffee shop or restaurant has ten women waiting for the casting call before deciding to take the backroom casting couch call. You all know the one.”
Death Adder was slowly making her way to the ring, having the audience’s attention if not their approval. It didn’t matter, she wasn’t here to garner applause.
"Of course we all know someone that’s very familiar with backroom couches. Honey, just because you’re a champion at throating doesn’t make you a champion of a division, title or not. When the boss of a company has his secretary take some dictation under a desk, she doesn’t get a promotion. Hell, she doesn’t even get respect. Calling yourself a queen doesn’t make it true, no matter how many metaphors or overpriced chairs you buy. People don’t boo you because they’re jealous or they’re haters, or whatever garbage you tell yourself to pretend it doesn’t bother you. They boo you because the most interesting thing about you is Drayden. The only thing you bring to the ring, queenie is something they can get better with a Google search, some privacy, and a box of Kleenex; and it’d be more stimulating and interesting than anything you’ve done in what you call your ‘career’.”
“But of course, one can’t talk about the wannabe queen without bringing up the other girl playing like this is high school politics and cliques all over again. For every preppy whore there’s the gothic creep that just discovered that ankhs and crosses go great with a helping of angst. The two of you can’t seem to co-exist, between the petty jabs of princess plastic and the poor-man’s bdsm styling of miss mixed metaphors. And you’d think they’d get along so well, what with them having so many things in common. Lack of talent, inability to enthrall, deep rooted daddy issues expressing themselves in different ways… Honey, no one’s afraid of you or your elementary use of mix-matched imagery. Here’s an idea. Go hook up with the rest of your little wiccan friends and conjure up an original personality. At least your dad had the good sense to rip off Jason Voorhes - people actually liked those movies.”
Though she was now circling the ring, Death Adder was not done. There were more than just two of the easiest targets possible. Who hadn’t had a go at the top slags of the company?
"Of course, I mentioned that I was bored of the division and nowhere is that more obvious than the personification of boredom that is miss can’t choose a career path. What, was the military too normal for you? Was it too hard to get beaten senseless by people who actually care enough to do something they believe in? How long is it going to take before you decide that the AWE isn’t for you? As soon as you start to lose over and over again? I thought the military was supposed to instill discipline and responsibility, yet did I not hear you go on and blame Jennifer’s Frumpy Body for you losing to a damn mute and Sailor Moon. The big strong soldier can’t fight her own battles. Boo hoo. I give it six months and continued losses before you move on to something else you can get bored of because of a lack of competence. You don’t care about this place, G.I. Jane. So do us all a favor and muscle your way out of here.”
“Oh, I’m not done. Not at all. Because for as utterly devoid of originality that the terrible trio might be, at least they do something, which is more than I can say for the god damn kindergarten class that exists back there. I thought this was a wrestling company, not AnimeCon with special guest literally who and the cosplayer with an alias about as decent as Hot Topic’s dye job. I’m sure hurricane otaku and still illegal in all fifty states fox-girl will do something to make us all collectively snore as soon as they’re done gushing over their magical girl collection. I wasn’t aware we were in a constant state of bring your child to work day.”
“But then how else am I supposed to account for nepotism given flesh and named after the ugly girl from The Matrix. I’m sure you’re doing your family proud, dear, you’re about as mediocre as the lot of them; doing the family name proud, you are. Given your sister’s lack of charisma during interviews maybe you’re the one that got the spurt of talent from your parents. Because one of you has to live up to the legacy of being absolutely forgetful, right?”
Having made her way through the roster in various forms, Adder finally took a moment to pause and take in the negative response to her string of insults. And yet she still lifted the mic to her lips once more, complete with a lethal smirk.
"And because I have each and every one of you fraudulent, boring, basic bitches pegged, I know that none of you are going to do anything about it. Barbie can’t even jump without Ken around to catch her, Morgana’s too busy taking notes on horror movies to rip off - when she should be taking notes on how to call bitches out from yours truly, but then she’d be made even MORE unoriginal. Sydney can’t find the time between lifting a dumbbell and flipping through a job booklet and the others? They’ve got homework and a curfew to worry about. But all of them, every single one - even the weird mute - would all say the exact same thing in response to my words here. Some junk about me being jealous, or a hater, or how it doesn’t bother them, the same exact spiel they spout night after night like the broken records that is their entire careers.”
“Which is why I’m putting the entire division on blast right here and right now. Show me that there’s more to any of you than your sub-par looks and your below-par personalities. But of course you won’t. None of you will. Because, like I said at the start, you’re all so utterly boring. Prove me wrong.”
With her statement of intent clear, the venomous Death Adder dropped her jacket as well as the microphone, widening her smirk and watching the ramp for anyone. The entire division was on her notice now, it was only a matter of time before they all felt the sting.
After hearing the challenge from Death Adder, Tsunami felt her blood boil after what witnessing what she had done to her allies. No one runs in on her allies like that without getting a piece of what Tsunami did best. She stood up from her seat on the couch and made her way to the main stage. She was seeing red and quite honestly wanted to beat the living shit out of Death Adder.
Walking up to the curtain, she put her hands on her hips and waited for her music to start playing. Standing there, looking down and swaying idly, she finally heard that sweet, sweet guitar riff and dashed outside. She still had to give the crowd a show, though. Tsunami came out, her arms raised and getting the crowd amped up as she went over to the side and gave a couple of people high fives, before going to the other side and doing the same to another few lucky fans.
With her entrance ritual finally over with, Tsunami stared down Death Adder wherever she was and made her way there, knowing that all she wanted to do was to get redemption for her friends.
For a moment, however brief, there was a smile on the Adder’s crimson lips. Of all the women backstage, of all the little wannabes and try-hards this was who answered the call? Under normal circumstances Adder might even have given Tsunami the smallest of props for having the fortitude and bravery to answer the challenge. It took some sort of moxie to essentially sign one’s own death warrant. Death Adder’s smirk dropped almost as soon as her fake clapping had. There was no time to waste on words or remarks; this was a statement, after all. And when one made a statement of intent, one didn’t have the luxury of wasting time.
As the stare-off, such as it was, ended, it was the venomous snake that pounced first, practically bounding forward to chop at Tsunami hard, swift, and fierce. There would be nothing pretty about this fight if Adder had her way. As far as the snake was concerned, the other woman was merely a rat wandering too close to a hunger predator.
Death Adder lunged forward at Tsunami, tying them up into a single collar tie. She tried shifting her weight to the right side to try to get her opponent off balance. Throwing a few uppercuts from the clinch she pulled Death Adder’s arm as if she was trying to drag it down. However, she instead transitioned into a hammerlock in the standing position. Pushing forward a bit, she let go with one arm to grasp around the hip, before letting go of the grip and wrapping her arms around Death Adder’s hip.
Twisting upwards, Tsunami arced her back into a German Suplex. Just as she was about to hit the apex, she released Death Adder from her grip at the appropriate time so that she would go flying. Landing on her belly, Tsunami was quick to get up and go to the ropes. She bounded off of them, dashing towards Death Adder so that she could drop her with an elbow, hopefully.
Adder was on her back with a hard landing, only adding fuel to the fire that was slowly rising in her soul. She didn’t wait around for the follow-up elbow, spotting it coming and rolling onto her stomach in time to avoid the impact. Pressing her palms to the mat, she hoisted herself back up and kept her gaze ever locked on Tsunami. An inch couldn’t be given, nor would she give it. Still, she waited until Tsunami was getting up, only to pounce forward again - this time with a knee aimed squarely at the other competitor’s head.
Death Adder wanted Tsunami on the mat, down on the ground where she belonged.
As Tsunami went for the elbow, she failed to realize that Death Adder had rolled away before it was too late, and she landed on the mat hard. She recoiled in pain and groaned, grabbing her elbow before eyeing Death Adder.
She posted up with both hands, not even having time to get herself situated before her opponent came at her like a cobra. And then came the knee. The knee hit Tsunami and she fell backwards, lying on her back and breathing hard as she was trying to recover quick enough. But the knee had caught her off guard and she was stuck recovering from the attack.
There was no point in celebrating a hit, not when it meant it was time to follow it up. No grandstanding. No taunting. Just precision. Adder stood over Tsunami, her lips twisted in a foul grin, standing out amidst the pale complexion of her skin, like a hawk circling its prey. The serpent in the grass lifted a foot to stomp at Tsunami’s arm. What better way to make an example than by crippling such necessary tools.
As she stomped, Death Adder felt a unique sort of glee, and she wore it on her face like a badge of honor. The stomps were quick. At the moment, it was all she was focusing on. The feeling of stomping a limb beneath her boot. It took the referee stepping in and forcing Adder to stop before she backed up, still smirking, still leering towards Tsunami, daring the girl to swing back.
Watching Death Adder circle around her did not bode well for Tsunami. She was helpless at this moment, and there were a variety of things she could do to take advantage of the momentum she had just received. It could’ve ranged from a dropkick to a full press. She looked at Death Adder, but refused to show any fear knowing that it was what Death Adder wanted.
Feeling her get closer and her shadow looming over her, Tsunami didn’t know what to expect next. Then came the stomp, the loud crashing of boot to her arm. Tsunami recoiled and grabbed her arm in pain, groaning loudly going into a fetal position of sorts as she clutched her arm. Taking the pain, she rolled to a turtle position, before getting up. She was breathing hard, building up energy for her next bout of offense.
She lunged toward Death Adder with an elbow, using the arm that her opponent had stepped on earlier. Tsunami then quickly followed up with a roundhouse kick to the abdomen, before tying Death Adder up into a single collar tie yet again.
So there was still fight to be had in Tsunami - admirable, but ultimately pointless as far as the Adder was concerned. The scared mouse could take swipes but in the end it would still succumb. Adder reeled back when the elbow collided with her, then doubled over in response to the roundhouse. Exquisite. The spark of a fight, however fleeting, made all the difference in these situations. It would’ve been boring otherwise.
But the mistake was in bringing Adder so close. Though they were locked in a tie, Adder was still smiling, damn near laughing, the way one does when they know they have the upper hand. It happened suddenly, and just out of the eyeshot of the referee. When the collar tie was locked in, Death Adder delivered a shot of Venom. Quick and purple, just enough to be aggravating. Never corner a venomous snake.
The laughing from Death Adder was ominous, giving Tsunami a sinking feeling in her stomach before all she could see was purple. She let go of the tie and covered her eyes, selling it by groaning in pain and trying to get the furthest from Death Adder as she could. She still couldn’t see, and eventually she found herself on the ropes. Death Adder was definitely like a Cobra, but Tsunami was the Mongoose to the Cobra.
She glanced at Death Adder, her vision still slightly unclear from the venom attack from earlier. She rolled out of the mat and onto the floor, trying to take things out of the ring.
Running away or a tactical retreat? It didn’t matter where Tsunami went, Death was sure to follow. After taking a moment to admire the way in which Tsunami was clearly in pain, clearly feeling the effects of the Venom, Death Adder followed along, stepping through the ropes and outside of the ring in hot pursuit. Out here, the rules were different as far as Adder was concerned. She could hear the disapproval of the rubes in the audience and that only made her more eager to kill this inferior specimen.
Death Adder came up behind Tsunami, grabbing her by the neck with a loud, sinister laugh. There was no elegance or technical skill behind the hold, just a raw, brutal sort of application, and her intent was clear from the jump. Adder had every intention of using this leverage to throw Tsunami into the security barricade. Out here, this was no longer a match. It was, in the eyes of the Adder, lawless. This was a brawl now.
Landing against the security barrier, Tsunami recoiled in pain once again as she bounced back onto the floor. She lied on her belly, putting her arm up and trying desperately to get herself back up, but she couldn’t. Tsunami was stunned from the impact. She glanced up at Death Adder. She was strong for sure. But, Tsunami had been through worse. She figured that she had to change up the strategy in order to break through Death Adder’s overwhelming confidence.
Tsunami slowly mustered up strength to get back up, the crowd’s energy surging as she got back up. Breathing heavily, she summoned the energy to start sprinting. The wrestler put her leg on Death Adder’s leg, before going for the enzuigiri. If it worked, Tsunami had every intention in the world to try to pull off a gutbuster on Death Adder and reciprocate the damage and pain that she had inflicted on her.
After Tsunami hit the barrier, Adder was widening her grin. The way the body bounced and fell...the subtle sounds as the plucky little prey hit the ground...it was sweeter than any symphony. In the eyes of the predatory Death Adder, the sight of a loved member of the roster on the ground in pain was a victory in and of itself. She was reveling in the sounds of disapproval. She was taking pride in her handiwork. And she was savoring the moment before going in for the kill.
But the moment to bask in her brief success was met only with a kick to the head. The brief moment of pause was enough for the fight or flight instincts in the little mouse to kick in, and presently the switch was flipped to fight. In an instant, the predator was doubled over and then being dropped in kind, now on the floor in a bursting sting of pain. She could hear the swinging change to the crowd, happy that the hunter was being shown the floor. It wouldn’t end like that. Tsunami might have fought back and taken the advantage but in the process she made one major mistake.
She made Death Adder angry.
No more admiration. No more pausing to appreciate the aesthetics of a beaten idol. The Adder would slowly rise to one knee, eyes glaring towards Tsunami, and like a snake coiled and ready, she would make a move to strike, To pounce and to simply do whatever it took to strike at and drop this little upstart.
Abandoning the plan to hit a gutbuster, Tsunami backed up and gave Death Adder some space, after learning her lesson with the sudden venom attack. She took a deep breath, watching her and studying whatever she was doing. Watching her pounce, Tsunami failed to react accordingly and was hit by Death Adder’s burst of offense.
Tsunami stumbled back a bit, trying to make sure that she didn’t outright lose her balance. This had turned into a brawl, and Tsunami was more than willing to bring it to Death Adder. The distance between them was closed, coming in with a superman punch and then following with a rolling savate to the body. Backing away Tsunami was trying to figure out what else she could do to Death Adder, weary of the many tricks she had up her sleeves.
Whatever tricks were in the Adder’s bag remained tucked inside - ever since leaving the safety of the ring all pretense of elegance or by-the-books encounters were tossed aside. After being hit back with a hard punch and a kick, Adder only glared towards Tsunami - after gritting her teeth and grunting once the blows had subsided. One good turn deserved another and the space between them was again diminished as this time it was the coiled strike of the serpent taking her chance.
Like a sudden sting, so too did Adder jump forth - partially out of desperation - to use her momentum to bring Tsunami to the ground just to start giving mounted punches to the spry woman’s face. Adder’s brow was furrowed and her gaze murderous. Whatever it took to mop up Tsunami, Death Adder was going to find it. Or die trying.
Taken back by Adder’s takedown, she was helpless on her back. She tried to wiggle her way out of the position but she couldn't. This position usually meant she was going to be in some pain very, very soon. There was too much that she could do from this position.
Putting her arms up, she shielded herself from the onslaught of punches. Some went through some were blocked. Tsunami was now put into a position where she had to be more and more desperate. She put her arm on Adder’s abdomen, trying to get her to stand straight up so Tsunami could wiggle her way out. But just as she tried to do so, the bell rang and the referee was waving his hands as if the match was over. Tsunami was confused, but then she realized where she was and sighed in disappointment.
They had both counted themselves out, and neither had won the match.
Even after the bell sounded and the double count-out was ruled, Adder was smirking. To her it wasn’t about winning or losing, it had all been about making a statement. Her final message was a final, definitive punch before standing up to the chorus of boos. She looked over her handiwork, the young Tsunami on the ground, and again Death Adder grinned like a sinister villain. Her grin never faded, even as she walked her way back up the ramp.
Her job was done for the night.
Joy held her mic up to her lips and smiled at the camera, “After hearing so much talk about her in LA and Chicago, I thought it was about time for us to hear a few words from Barbie Summers herself.” Turning her body to face the door, but keeping it angled so Chance could still see her face, Joy brought her free hand up and gently knocked on the door.
As glitzy and glamorous as the star herself, the dressing room door was decked out sparkling decor. Pink, so much pink. At the center of it hung a plaque that looked like a movie director’s clapperboard, with Barbie’s name chalked in neat, elegant script. Said door swung open to reveal the devastatingly gorgeous blonde wrestler. Her hair hung in big, loose, sensual curls that reached past her shoulders and almost to her elbows. She pushed her crystal-rimmed Gucci sunglasses carefully up her forehead and atop her crown of golden locks.
She sighed dramatically upon seeing the guest at her door, playing up the “I can’t be bothered by this paparazzi” celebrity vibe that her character was written to have these days. Barbie rolled her eyes, the lids of which sported an amount of shimmering silver and pink shadow that seemed more fit for RuPaul’s Drag Race than any AWE event. Everything about Barbie Summers dripped ‘extra’, and it was meant to. Barbie is extra, more extra than anyone else will ever be, and they needed to be reminded that every day. “What is it, Joy? You’re interrupting me heading out for a walk.”
Crinkling her nose, Joy sweetly apologized, “I know how busy you are, and I’m sorry for intervening with your… busy schedule, but I just need to ask you.” and in with the hard hitting question she went, “Last week you were called out by not only one wrestler, but two. Sydney Ellis called you a coward and Morgana basically threw your words back at you and insinuated that you, Barbie Summers, are a hypocrite. As we all know, she believes you are Drayden’s shadow and could not make it out in this business without him. What are your thoughts? There seems to be a lot of heat heading in your direction.”
“First off, who even is this Sydney?” Barbara asked, flipping a curl over her shoulder gracefully and ignoring any attempt that Joy might have at responding to said question. “Secondly, I am no hypocrite. Barbie Summers stands in no one’s shadow. No man, no woman, nor deity, is on my level. I’m a star, darling, I light up the entire night sky. There is no place for shadows when you shine as bright as I do. As for Morgana, the poor thing is just jealous. Her dark heart doesn’t have any room to spare for love, isn’t that sad? She’s just a girl lashing out at a happy couple, all because she is forever alone.” The blonde didn’t even look slightest bit sad at her words, nor did she look like she regretted any of them. Instead, she wore a matter-of-fact, smug grin as she looked passed Joy, and into the camera lens.
“I don’t mind the heat, that’s what it means to stand in the light. And isn’t my tan looking great these days?” Barbie extended her right arm to display the golden glow that she spoke of to Joy, turning her attention back to the interviewer now. “Is that all?”
Joy internally was impressed. The amount of cockiness and pride that Barbie Summers had was absolutely fantastic. Standing here, inches away, Joy was enthralled. She could only imagine what the audience would think. “No actually, it isn’t.” Joy took a step closer and locked her gaze with her interviewee. This is what the audience truly wanted to hear. “Will you fight?” Her question filled the air with heavy connotations behind it, before she added, “Today, Sydney Ellis and Morgana will go at it, to ultimately get to you. And I will quote Sydney Ellis’ words, for verbatim, Barbie Summers can not and will not fight me. Is this going to be the case or…?” Joy intentionally trailed off to get Barbara a chance to chime in.
“I don’t know who this nobody thinks she is, but sure, I’m willing to put anybody and everyone in their place. Is this… is this GI Jane? The one who wasn’t even worth Morgana’s time?” Barbara acted out the false realization immaculately, and then laughed a tinkling bell of a laugh. Placing a hand to her voluptuous chest, she caught her breath in a sigh. “Oh, this is bound to be good. You can tell her this, verbatim: Come at me, honey, and I’ll have you seeing stars, just like the rest of the peasants below me.”
The glammed up dressing room door was suddenly blocking Joy’s view, as Barbie slammed it in the interviewer’s face to punctuate her final statement. The queen hath spoken.
Hot on of the heels of an ever-arrogant Barbie Summers, Zachary Wake grabbed a mic, then waited eagerly in the gorilla position for his match. Wake quite liked the woman’s work, but her arrogance was nothing compared to what was about to come. Zack looked over to see Roger from sound give him a smile with his unkempt goatee, then pressed a button on his computer, signifying the beginning of Zachary’s theme. Zack smiled back and nodded at the man, then walked out onto the stage. Even beyond the loudness of Zack’s epic theme, the boos were phenomenal. After all, who could forget what Zack did to Winters just two weeks ago? Not only had Caiden just lost the most intense match of his night the previous night for the AWE championship, but Wake stole away his second opportunity the very next day with a low blow.
Wake’s music died down as he stood in the middle of the ramp, and he let the boos continue for a few more seconds before holding the microphone up to his lips. As he opened his mouth to speak, the boos grew louder, and Wake had to stifle a laugh at the reaction he got.
God it was fun to be hated.
“As many of you know, two weeks ago I laid out Caiden Winters in the middle of the ring, killing his opportunity at the gold he so obviously works hard for. Now, I understand that you’re upset he lost, what smark doesn't? But the part that I don’t quite understand is that you BOO ME for it. In case all of you have forgotten, I am a tag team champion, and intercontinental champion, and I’ve worked in this business for TEN GODDAMN YEARS. If anyone in this tournament deserves to be here IT’S ME.” Zack walked down the ramp and up the steel steps, then continued. “Caiden Winters was a joke, and tonight, I’ll prove that Thunderbird is no different. After all, if you recall, last week he defeated Sexton with a roll-up pin.” Zachary laughed as he stepped into the ring. “A roll-up, huh? That is quite possibly the cheapest way to pick up a victory. I have no respect for cowards like him.”
The flurry of boos resumed here with a chant of “YOU’RE A CHEATER!” clap clap clapclapclap started up.
The Native American drums started up and A Tribe Called Red’s music came blaring over the speakers throughout the stadium. The fans in the arena were on their feet cheering for the masked hero of the masses. Thunderbird’s last opponent didn’t see the roll up coming, and after locking eyes with Sexton backstage before stepping out, he knew he’d gained an enemy for life. He just did the job he was told. Jon couldn’t help what the writers decide. He stepped out of the curtain and entered down the ramp leading to the ring.
The fans went nuts. Truth be told Redcrow was a bit nervous. This guy he was facing had twice the experience and was a little bigger. And a damn good heel. However, he looked across the crowd and knew he wasn’t there for the win, he was there for the people. The kid near the front in the Thunderbird mask. The old man in the head dress. Other fans reached out to touch their hero from the sides of the entry ramp and Thunderbird reached out to slap as many hands he could. The kid in the mask up front? Thunderbird got down and shook the kid’s hand and pulled him close for a selfie the child’s mother was taking. The Native didn’t care if he took a beating tonight, he knew that kid would remember this night for the rest of his life. Before Wake could open his mouth again Thunderbird slid into the ring quickly and his opponent dove through the ropes. Then the war dance started from the four sides of the ring ending in the wrestler standing on the second turnbuckle and beating his chest before removing the large head dress. As he did so he felt a double axe handle on his back, being hit from behind, and the ref signaled for the bell.
Wake wasted no time in gaining the upper hand in this fight. He knew Jon loved his flippy shit, and the first opportunity to do said flippy shit, he would take. Now, with Thunderbird hunched over on the top rope, Zack pointed and laughed. The crowd booed in response. Then, in an attempt to finish the match before it really started, Zack placed his head in between Thunderbird’s legs, setting up the electric chair. Jon managed to use the ropes to keep from getting lifted and in luchador-like fashion he threw the heel out of the ring through the ropes with a head-scissor. As his opponent went to the outside of the ring, Thunderbird stepped back on the top rope and after screaming a battle cry threw himself like a corkscrew at his adversary, who scrambled to his feet only to see a body flying in his general direction. Goddamn lucha-bullshit.
Zack held his hands up to catch his adversary, yet still put on a scared expression to make it appear as if he were cowering in fear. The duo tumbled to the ground, and the crowd popped at the intense move right out of the gate. Without hesitation, Thunderbird sprung up from the ground, seemingly unhurt by the move, and picked up Zack, slamming his head into the barricade a few times for good measure before leading him back to the ring. Zack rolled in and stood up on his knees, dazed as Thunderbird climbed back into the ring.
The face stared down at his opponent, then reached to pick him up, being stopped as his legs were pulled away from underneath him, and hitting the mat hard. Not to be caught off guard Thunderbird kicked up at the heel who was still low to the ground and connected to the side of his face before springing up from his back like martial artists often do. The crowd lit up and using their momentum Jon ran and hit the ropes coming back at Wake with a knee strike to the head. He grabbed him up from the ground and sent him into a totem pole suplex. If the crowd could see under the sky blue mask they’d see that smile that gets Jon Redcrow in everyone’s good graces. It was a completely different atmosphere than the Japanese circuit he’d began in. He picked Wake up again and whipped him to the ropes. Thunderbird went for a clothesline, and the heel ducked and came off the ropes with with an explosive clothesline, turning the tide of the battle.
Zachary looked down at Jon and laughed, before getting down in one knee, grabbing a handful of hair, and lifting it up before bashing The Native’s head back down with a fist directly to the nose. Wake repeated twice more before the referee forced Wake’s hand off of Thunderbird’s hair. As Wake stood up once more, then stomped a black boot onto Thunderbird’s face. Methodically, Zack paced around Thunderbird in a circle, stomping on several more limbs, before once more yanking The Native to his feet by his hair.
Wake then kicked Redcrow in the gut, and lifted him up into a stalling suplex, leaving him in the air for a good seven or so seconds before letting his opponent crash down onto the ground. Quickly after getting up, Zack grabbed both of Thunderbird’s legs and folded him overlocking in a vicious Liontamer. Jon’s back was arched such that his face was being smooshed against the ground, and his legs were up above . No cresent expect the moon could rival it, and even then the liontamer would put up a pretty damn good fight. Thunderbird struggled on the floor arms flailing to touch anything. Hit Wake, grab a rope, it didn’t matter, ‘cause it HURT. Zachary only continued to apply pressure, arching The Native’s back further and further.
Even if this was a work, the pain was sure as hell real for Jon. Nevertheless, the hold continued. Zachary looked down, then quietly said. “I’ll lift up, curl up and get out of the hold.” And though Jon was too busy practically being tortured, he heard the message. Zack then looked up, and shouted into the crowd. “YOU DON’T DESERVE THIS!” Whether he was talking to the crowd or Thunderbird, it didn’t matter, because as he did, Zack took some of the pressure off of the liontamer, allowing Jon to push up with his hand and duck his head underneath himself, then launched up into the air, grabbed Zachary’s shoulders, and leant backwards, flipping Zack over the top of him. Zack took the monkey flip well, soaring through the air, then crashing into the mat with a flat back.
Redcrow took the opportunity to climb back to his feet, using the ropes as to assist himself. As he got up, now leaning against the ropes, Zack ran full blast at him, attempting to connect a clothesline. Thunderbird, however, had a different idea. He ducked down and pushed up on Wake’s chest launching him over the top rope, with Wake landing on the apron. As Zack was flying overhead, Jon said to him: “Springboard dropkick.” Zack grabbed with both hands onto the rope, preventing himself from falling onto the hard ground below. He acted groggy, and to an extent, he was. Rassilin’ really takes it outta you. Thunderbird looked at Wake, looked at the turnbuckle, then quickly looked at the crowd, who cheered in anticipation. Thunderbird ran at the ropes perpendicular to the ones Zack was at, jumped on them, then leapt off towards Wake feet first, crashing into him with a vicious dropkick.
Zack took the kick and, with both its force and a little jump from him, he flew backwards, crashing back first into the announcer’s table. Zack dropped to his knees in pain and grasped him back, then made a show to hobble pain to the ring and roll in ever so slowly. Thunderbird wasted no time getting back in the attack, stomping on Zack once before stepping out onto the apron and up onto the top turnbuckle. The crowd started to stand up, take out phones, cheer, chant, and wait in anticipation for Wake to stumble to his feet. Wake obliged, doing the old “turn around slowly while dazed” action, then ate a big dropkick as The Bird soared through the sky. Zack fell onto his back, then rolled further backwards so he flipped around onto his stomach, in the centre of the ring. Jon got up onto his knees and pounced onto Wake, before grabbing Wake’s arm, trapping it in between his legs, and tugging on Wake’s chin, locking in a disgustingly beautiful Crossface. Wake waved his free hand around in desperation, holding close to the ground to make it appear as if it were going to tap, before going back to waving it around.
Even though the babyface had his finisher locked in in the centre of the ring, boos started coming from all directions. Thunderbird looked around, confused, only to see the Sexellence of Sexecution come running down the entrance ramp, equipped with a chair and all. The referee approached the Lovely One, who had jumped up onto the apron, trying to get the ref to let him get into the ring. The ref only responded by pointing at the locker rooms and shouting at Sexton’s face to leave.
This was it. Zack’s opportunity. Granted, they had all planned out the spot beforehand, but it still felt like it was an opportunity Wake would have taken in real life. “You gotta seize opportunity by the balls and never let go.” At least, that was how Zachary was always taught it.
Thunderbird released his hold on Wake and began to walk over to Sexton Love, but was stopped in his tracks as he, just like Caiden Winters two weeks before, got smashed in the groin with a cheating fist. He lurched over onto his hands and knees, then collapsed onto the ground. Zachary only smiled at Sexton as the Lovely One dropped off the apron and told the ref to get back to work. Zack pounced onto Thunderbird and hooked one leg, staring and nodding at Sexton with a grimace as the ref got down to pin.
“One…” The ref started counting. The crowd got up on their feet, aggravated by what was going down. Sexton laughed and bowed towards the ring as he backed away up the ramp.
“Two…” Boos flooded the arena.
“Th-” The ref was cut off. The boos were cut off and Sexton was stopped in his tracks as Redcrow’s hand flew up into the air, his shoulder getting off the mat. Cheer upon cheer, chant upon chant rose in number and volume, and Zachary Wake could only sit up in disbelief and look down at his opponent, the man who just kicked out of a low blow.
Sexton walked back over to ringside, astonished by what happened. Zack slowly stood up, turning to the referee. “Are you freaking kidding me?! Did you not see that? Are you blind or something? That was three, shoulders down, end of story!” Zack slapped his hands together three times, making sure to get all up in the referee’s face as he yelled and complained.
“Give me a break, Wake. You’re lucky I didn’t see what happened while I was arguing with Sexton or you might not have been allowed that pin at all.” Thunderbird slowly started to rise to his feet, using the ropes to assist himself.
“EXCUSE ME? Did you just accuse me of cheating?! Some official you are, ya crapshoot!” Jon quickly exploded out of the corner he was in, curling an arm in between Wake’s legs and pulling him backwards into a rollup.
The referee jumped down and quickly counted to two, but Wake stuck a shoulder up and rolled backwards out of the pin before that final number could be said. Immediately, the two wrestlers stood up, and locked up in the centre of the ring. Both knew that if they gave up now, there would be no more AWE Championship for them. Their dream was as good as gone.
Thunderbird overpowered Wake and began to push him to the ground. At first, the heel resisted, but quickly stopped and dropped to one knee. He then took one hand and hooked it under Redcrow’s left leg and yanked, pulling the hero to the ground. Thunderbird was quick to respond, getting onto his knees and striking with a blunt, brute of a forearm, sending Wake reeling. The crowd cheered as the bird boy stood up, marching forward with a series of sickening strikes. Punches, chops, knees, you name it. It was comeback time baby. A palm strike knocked Wake onto the ropes and Redcrow pressed him backwards then pulled an arm, sending Wake to the ropes on the opposite side of the ring.
As Zack ran the ropes, he looked down at ringside where Sexton Love was chatting up a lovely looking lady. The Lovely One exchanged a nod with his heel friend, and it was decided. Time to finish this thing off. Wake ate Thunderbird’s clothesline and hit the ground hard, and crawled over to a corner, but more specifically a corner where the referee stood, making sure everything was going down smoothly. Heh. Sexton caught the ref’s attention with some snarky, probably sexist remark, and Zach positioned himself in front of the referee, standing weakly on his feet.
Redcrow let out a yell, getting the crowd riled up, and ran full throttle at Wake. He leapt up into the air and tucked up his legs, then shot them out like bullets from the gun that was his body. A beautiful dropkick that would have lead to a sweet, sweet victory - if it weren’t for Zack dropping down and ducking out of the way. Those beautiful feet crashed into the referee, and pushed the poor guy back. The ref’s head bounced off the turnbuckle, and true to form, was out cold. Thunderbird stood there, shocked at what had just transpired. Zack crawled over to an adjacent corner, grinning at Thunderbird. He’d gotten away with this filthy way of battle. Again.
Redcrow was done with this shit, and his expression showed it. Zack’s smile slowly turned to a look of fear as the birdboy marched over to him. Luckily for Wake, however, a third wrestler entered the ring. Boos ensued as the crowd realised what was about to go down. “Boy, you better learn to watch your behind!” Sexton Love proceeded to thrust at the air as he waited for the One They Call Bird to turn and face him. And as soon as the bird did, he head met a new best friend - a chair. Sexton made sure the strike was a big wallop straight down the middle. Jon’s head nearly retreated into his spine.
Thunderbird staggered backwards, almost collapsing to the ground, but being caught by a head in between his legs. Zachary Wake lifted up, raising a limp, barely conscious Jon Redcrow up into the air on his shoulders. Sexton laughed at the sight, and simply said: “Drop him.” Zack pushed up and sent Thunderbird forwards, executing a picture perfect Electric Chair Facebuster. Sexton slid out of the ring, and Zachary Wake covered Thunderbird just as the referee regained consciousness. A simple one, two and three, and the match was over. Wake’s music hit once more, and he stood valiantly over his opponent. Zack looked over at the Sexellence of Sexecution, nodded respectfully at him, and left. Once more, dirty tactics secured Zachary Wake a victory.
Like a piece of plywood, Thunderbird got screwed. Zachary Wake was advancing in the tournament.
Sexton Love climbed back into the ring, the same steel chair in his hands and the same Lakers jersey on his back. The jersey was simultaneously a cheap shot at the Sacramento fans, while at the same time a complete contradiction to Sexton's promo last week in L.A. He didn't plan to mention anything about the jersey, but it's presence just added that nice little extra layer of "fuck you" that the Love Doctor was looking for. But by the time the night was over, he was going to be a "fuck you" tiramisu.
CRACK!
The Lovely One lined up Thunderbird again, tattooing his forehead with a vile chairshot. He turned and started aggressively yelling at the fans, chair still in hand, while the Bird lay face down on the mat. As the proud warrior attempted to somehow push himself up off the canvas it was obvious he was busted open, a long cut at the top of his hairline, just above the mask. Blood was dripping down on the mat as Thunderbird tried to stand. Sexton turned around immediately brought the chair crashing down again.
SMACK!
The King of the Road threw down the chair, as the King of the Sky lay motionless from the attack. Sexton climbed on top of his adversary and began raining down short, piston-like punches as the boos from the crowd grew louder and louder. The gash on Thunderbird's head was a bullseye, and the Sexcellence of Sexecution was determined to hit his mark. Blood continued to pour from the wound, running down Thunderbird's mask to his chest. His hair was soaked in crimson red as Sexton finally relented his barrage of blows.
"Gimme a fuckin' mic!" said Sexton, hoping this would not become a trademark phrase. He ripped the microphone from the announcer's hand at ringside, and rolled back into the ring.
"I TOLD YA DADDEH!" yelled Sexton, pausing for a moment as the crowd voiced their displeasure. "I told ya that I needed the gold. I told ya that I NEEDED the World's Heavyweight Title!"
"Boooooooooo!"
He kicked Thunderbird in the head again as the Bird began to sitr.
"I am the Sexcellence of Sexecution!"
Kick.
"The King of the Ring--"
Kick.
"And the KING OF THE ROAD!"
Kick.
"The Sexiest There Is! Sexiest There Was! And SEXIEST THERE EVER WILL BE!"
Kick. Kick. Kick.
At this point the blood was really flowing, and Thunderbird's entire chest was drenched. He looked like he had undergone some sort of bizarre baptismal ritual. Sexton couldn't help but chuckle at the thought. The Bird's outfit wasn't doing him any favors either.
"...But you STOLE it from me darlin'. You stole the World's Heavyweight Championship belt when you stole that match last week. You're a THIEF daddeh, and I can't let that crime go unpunished. No, no, no. NO WAY darlin'."
Sexton paused for a moment, relishing in the heat of the moment.
"I'm the PIPER WITH THE PIPE..." said Sexton, pointing to his crotch. "...And EVERYBODY PAYS."
"Booooooooo! Fuck you Sexton! Get the fuck outta here!"
"...I'm the man with the plan, the man with the POWER, too sweet to be sour, too hot to handle, and too COLD TO HOLD. I am the judge... jury... and SEXECUTIONER!"
In truth, Sexton didn't expect Thunderbird to be bleeding so badly, but there wasn't much that could be done about it now. Besides, it had given him an idea. A pretty messed up idea.
He walked over to the corner and picked up Thunderbird's Native American headdress. Last week, he had tore up one of the Bird's headdresses in their match, to great effect, and he had something similar in mind for tonight.
"Birdy baby, I bet you thought when you stole that match last week, you were heading UP in the world. I bet you thought you were FLYIN' straight to the top darlin'. Straight to the Tournament Finals, and straight to the World's Heavyweight Title..."
He tore off a single feather from the headdress, and threw it down on Thunderbird's limp and lifeless body.
"Well daddeh I just clipped you're wings and brought you crashing down to Earth... And mark my words, when it's all said and done, I will put you SIX FEET UNDER!"
Again Sexton tore at Thunderbird's ceremonial garb, ripping off more feathers and throwing them down as his adversary, repeatedly kicking Thunderbird's carcas as he did so. Some fans in the crowd had stopped their relentless booing and jeering, and as the camera panned around the arena they could be seen with their hands over their mouths, looking on almost in shock at what was transpiring. Sexton Love was known for his over-the-top gimmick and promo style, but fans had seemingly forgotten just how vicious he could be. The level of violence and disrespect being shown towards Thunderbird, a legitimate hero as far as professional wrestlers go, served as a reminder.
"I am a man's man and a ladies' man...but make no mistake about it, I'm a BAD MAN darlin'. A bad, bad man. And after I'm done with you, after your price has been paid, I'm taking the World's Heavyweight Title. Because SEX....... SELLS!"
The Man They Call Love stood tall over The Man They Call Bird, as they torn up feathers from Thunderbird's head dress were now stuck to the blood all over his body. Blood that had been spilled by Sexton P.S. Love.
Thunderbird had been tarred and feathered, with his own blood as the tar.
The stage crew started counting down, and Sydney Ellis put her cap on. Her ring gear this time was arctic camo. It was decided that would be the best contrast to Morgana’s black ensemble. It was time to make her entrance in 3...2...1…
The three month-young ring announcer, Vivi, strutted around the ring, wearing red heels and the most divine, form-fitting black dress. Bringing the mic to her lips, the young beaut gave a pleasant grin and an enticing stare, before unleashing her melting chocolate voice to the AWE crowd, “The following match is scheduled for one fall, introducing first, from Birmingham, England, a woman on a warpath, standing at 5’8”, and weighing 140 lbs--” Her head turned toward the entrance ramp and with booming enthusiasm, Vivi cheered, “--SYDNEY ELLIS!”
As soon as her music hit and she started marching down the ramp, Sydney Ellis noticed that, instead of the mixed, lukewarm reaction of two weeks ago, she was...being cheered passionately by a good deal of the audience, and booed just as passionately by another portion, mostly Morgana fans. She slid into the ring, threw off her cap, and began stretching with the ropes.
“Ladies and gentlemen. Introducing from Fairfield, Connecticut, standing at 5’8” and weighing 120 lbs -- this woman would like to be announced as the true sovereign of the woman’s division, MORGANAAAAAA!”
The serpent of a woman was darkly clad, as per usual, and adorned with leather. Her skin was ghastly pale and shined with white glitter to give her complexion a flawless, porcelain tone. As distant as Mileena was backstage, the moment her costume was on and the screech resonated throughout the arena, Morgana took control of the surprisingly introverted woman and was nothing but ready to put on a good show.
“Wade, Marcus. Y’know what my dream is? Seeing this woman, right here, with her father on that ring, or any ring for that matter. Her promo got me so hyped. For what? For LIES. ” Kane grumbled into his mic. The Faceless’ return was all a true heel fanboy ever wanted. “Sydney Ellis is going to keep this short and clean. End it with a Jackhammer. For all my broken dreams.”
Like her father, Morgana’s act was great for storytelling. Easily manipulated to make her coworkers, wrestlers that work as hard as she has, get the praise they deserve. The strobing lights went off and in a matter of seconds, Morgana appeared at the top of the ramp. Not walked but appeared, as if she was the magical creature that everyone believed her to be, able to cross the distance by dematerializing and rematerializing in and out of existence. When the music shifted to the guitar rift, her body as still as a frozen corpse, the devilish smirk wildly grew on her eerie face, turning her into a vindictive menace, while she methodically rose her palms up in a cultist praise.
Her first moments were dedicated to her twirling her body, her long, pink hair flowing within the air. With swift, yet prominent, movements, Morgana hyped the crowd using her undeniable charisma as a weapon and then strided down the pathway. The floor burning behind her with every step. Her icy gaze met the face of the ‘Nobody’, as Barbie put it earlier this evening, in the ring preparing to duel her. The Nobody who wanted to get involved in the witch’s cobwebs and lies.
The more Morgana associated herself with her enemies, the more she took in. The way they were, their tricks, their triggers, their… transitory nature… they simply gave her an advantage of hurting them from the inside out. Perhaps not today, but Morgana never forgot what was and has been done to her. She never forgets. She made a promise to herself a long time ago that she would make anyone who dared defy her, suffer. Getting underneath their skin was only the first thing she would do to be that burden they could not bare. She was the devil within. If there was one thing the sorceress did to those who diminished her worth and expected her to respect them, most not even bothering to see if she needed a favor done or two, not even trying to befriend her, well, then she would make their nightmares, her dreams.
Worst than her father, the epitome of a monster, could ever be. The devil tipped his hat to her, as she collected the tears of those she despised as pay. A damned soul. A soldier like Sydney Ellis, but with different means, different methods, and different allegiances. In the ring now, standing on the ropes, she pointed toward her screaming fans and yelled, “Is that all you got?!” This caused the volume to rise another octave. Years of experience shined through Mileena’s performance. Blood, sweat, pain, pain, a lot of pain, since she was a child. This was her passion. Her life. She loved wrestling.
Soon enough, the ‘deadly nightshade’ crept on her side of the ring waiting for the match to begin.
Ding, ding, ding.
“And we’re off to the races, I guess we’ll see if your prediction rings true. I don’t know who’s going to win, but I do know that the fans are going to get to see a great performance from two fine athletes tonight.”
“And whoever wins tonight gets to compete with Barbie for the title, so I expect this match to be vicious. Bring out your inner demons, girls!”
Once the bell signaled off, the sorceress slithered out of the ring with agile speed and hardly any effort. Sydney leered at Morgana as she left the ring for a split second, before rolling out and giving chase around the outside. She wanted as much blood as the crowd did, and there was no way that she was going to let the gothic wrestler escape.
Of course, who said Morgana was trying to ‘escape’? If anything, the white soldier was the insect navigating toward her trap, mesmerized by the desire to hurt her, which ultimately put her in a position where the witch could…
As sudden as Morgana exited the ring, she slipped back in and charged toward the area where Sydney was en route to. Perks of being the faster one of the two. Grabbing onto the top rope, she swung her legs through the gap between the mid and bottom ropes, her aim was sharp like a razor edge, her legs flew over the apron, and went right where she wanted it to hit. Sydney’s head. With Sydney Ellis prone on the ground, all the audience needed to do was blink and the next thing they knew, the goth wrestler was by the brute of the woman looking like a hungry psychopath. There was no hesitation in Morgana’s next actions. Picking Sydney’s face up, by her hair, the spiteful fighter chuckled to herself before smashing it into the ground. Again and again.
How’s your face?
“Vicious tactics. Say what you will about the AWE women’s personalities — and there is a lot to say on that front — but there’s certainly no denying that they all know how to fight.”
Tsk. A grimace appeared in Morgana’s expression as she thought about Sydney Ellis interrupting her promo. When Morgana was satisfied with the merciless floor kisses she was giving her dear opponent (as far as Mileena and Dawn were concerned, it was a perfect illusion), the countdown had started where Sydney Ellis needed to get thrown back into the ring. The spawn of satan aggressively pulled the bitch up and like the good samaritan that she was, Morgana shoved the Nobody’s ass back into the ring and followed behind, gliding onto the stage. Her stage, where she was the star.
To make sure the blonde wasn’t going anywhere, Morgana bounded highly in the air, using nothing but the strength in her jump and the short distance between her and Sydney. Swiftly, urgently, her elbow dropped into the other wrestler’s abdominal.
Not stopping for anyone, it was time for her version of the Sharpshooter. No Pain, No Game. Picking herself up, murder written all over her pale face, Morgana looked down at her opponent who was supine on the mat, seeing nothing but stars. Stepping between Sydney’s legs, with her left, she wrapped the soldier’s legs at shin level around her own, roughly. No remorse. Only pain and suffering.
Can you feel it, now? Do you see why I’m where I am today? Why I’m NOT my father’s shadow?!
Keeping her darling ‘partner’ in place, the wicked lady stepped over the leg she had caught in a grab and flipped the blonde over into a painful submission. Sydney Ellis was back to lying face downward, while the dark mistress sent venomous stings to the blonde’s lower back.
Fucking blondes. Just another form of plastic.
Sydney gritted her teeth, and thrashed around in the hold, silently yet wildly selling the great pain that the hold was inflicting on her. She went still, and was squeezing her right arm with her left hand. Finally a mini-victory for Morgana as the powerhouse yelled out in pain.
“There’s the hold that we’ve seen so many times in the past. It’s won so many battles in the past, maybe it’ll clinch the victory here.”
“All Morgana wants is to go back to the time where she had it all. But that’s the thing, time’s a changin and like you said earlier, the women’s division is thriving with talented wrestlers. Hungry for the spotlight.”
A few seconds later, Sydney put both hands to the mat, and started to slowly and agonizingly lift her upper body up, then she took one hand away, and in one swift motion, with a quick burst of strength, reared up, reached back and grabbed Morgana’s face with her hand, before pulling her back so that her other hand could reach her, and falling front-first back to the mat, applied a crossface to the painfully bent back Morgana. They now both had each other in submission holds!
“And just like that, Sydney is back in the fight! This is what I love about this business, anything can happen and it only takes one second for the momentum in a fight to shift — or in this case, for an unstoppable force to meet an immovable object.”
“I’m on the edge of my seat. Who knows who’s going to win?! These girls are too damn good.” Kane couldn’t contain his marking out.
After a brief, painful stalemate, Morgana let go, her face tinted red from the pressure, as did Sydney, and they rolled away from each other, getting back to their feet. Sydney then adopted an MMA stance, and advanced on the taller (by centimeters) yet not as muscular woman. She threw a jab or two, which Morgana dodged, followed by a few legsweep attempts, which were also overcome, though they had the effect of keeping Morgana on the defensive.
Unfortunately for the snake, dodging Sydney Ellis didn’t last as long as she would have wanted it to. The army girl feinted to the right and smacked Morgana with a hard left, flooring her. (It didn’t actually connect. Dawn was trying to be careful about that after all the bruises she was responsible for two weeks ago.)
"And just like that, the unstoppable force has moved the immovable object!”
With both arms, Sydney then picked the prone wrestler up and put her over her shoulder. She charged to one of the corners, ramming her into it with all her might, then turned and did the same with the opposite one, before jerking Morgana up onto her shoulders and leaving her there for a while as she played the crowd a little, strutting around and flexing. Sydney then slammed her hard to the ground, and tried for a cover. 1...2. Kickout at 2. It wasn’t even a close 2 count. Of course it wasn’t going to be that easy to put away the former women’s champion. Lifting Morgana to her feet with one hand, she then flung her into the ropes, waiting for her to come back, her arm ready for a devastating clothesline.
Morgana may have not been as chiseled as the powerhouse waiting to knock her over with her arm, but she was one of the most ruthless competitors on the AWE roster today. Never losing her affinity for physical torture, the perplexing enigma that was Morgana ricocheted off the ropes, evaded the clothesline, and allowed herself to be the David in David and Goliath.
"Effortless movement from Morgana, just like gravity forgot her. She never fails to impress with how easily she can move her body!”
“Both women are terrifying in their own way and you have to expect neither of them are going to let this opportunity slip out of their hands. I want to play this back in slow motion just to see how flawless Morgana’s moves are.”
Effortlessly to the crowd’s eye, Morgana threw herself onto her foe’s body, hugging her legs around Sydney’s neck. After twisting and flying on all sides of the powerhouse until her right leg naturally hooked over Sydney’s left, she trapped the blonde’s arm within her own. The enchantress used her left leg, which had already been draped over the soldier's neck, to force Sydney down to one side. This was her version of the Octopus hold. One of her remarkable finishers, a torso-twisting submission maneuver, the Anaconda squeeze. Anacondas hunt for a variety of prey, under the cover of darkness. They lurk in the murky waters, waiting for a prey to give them the opportunity to attack. Sydney Ellis was caught in Morgana’s restrain. Trapped. The former champion applied her constrictive technique to finish her prey off.
"Another submission hold from AWE’s wicked witch of the east! The military conditioning that Sydney has is surely coming into play here to keep her from tapping out immediately! It takes a lot of heart, a lot of guts, and a lot of pride to not submit when the hold is locked in like that, twisting and squeezing the life out of you — a snake looking to finish off her prey.”
“The best option for the soldier is to batter Morgana until she releases her! Children, don’t go playing with snakes now.”
In response, Sydney fell to one knee, arms shaking as she’s caught in her second submission of the night from Morgana. She roared loudly, trying to get her adrenaline pumping, while riling herself up, and then forced herself off her knee, returning to a stand. After a few more seconds of enduring the pain and gathering her strength, she grabbed Morgana’s body with both hands and charged straight for the turnbuckles, ramming her against them hard and forcing her to relinquish her grip. With Sydney free, and Morgana in the corner, the powerhouse started delivering stiff lariat after stiff lariat to the dazed goth.
Was this the end for the witch?
“Right here, right now in the corner of the AWE ring, we’re watching a witch be burned at the stake!”
The entire arena promptly went black and a compilation of noises could be heard causing the audience to go in an uproar. Wind chimes, children laughter, little girls chanting ‘ashes, ashes, they all fell down’, spine-chilling wind, and a distant, ominous piano… the she-devil was forming her next attack.
"What’s this?”
While the piano still played, but the lights flashed on, Morgana was now behind the woman who thought she was more worth fighting Barbie than she. A woman who DARED defy her. Her head was tilted and her deep, frost eyes were crazed, but what really got the crowd going was the sinister serpent had a chair in her hands and her shallow smile betrayed all innocence. The referee, however, had vanished entirely.
"Oh no, not like this! Where’s the ref!? There needs to be a stop to this before it gets out of hand! Get another referee out here to stop this!”
“Jesus. This is why you don’t mess with witches! They got supernatural powers that’ll change the whole game.”
Murder was an understatement of what Morgana wanted. With utmost force, the pink haired wrestler collided the chair with the back of Sydney’s body. Smash after smash after smash. Where was her heart? Out for blood, no longer was her sight on the reward. She wanted Sydney Ellis to regret ever stepping out of line. Soldiers were pawns, not leaders.
Climb, soldier.
"Again and again with the chair! Have you no heart, Morgana?! Have you no sense of honor!? No soul!?”
“I’m pretty sure witches sell their soul for their power…”
Breathing heavily, the sound effects coming to a close, this match definitely putting the heartless woman through one hell of an exhausting battle, Morgana tossed the chair out of the ring. Sydney was back on the floor, in massive amount of pain. Running her hand through her long, pink locks, closing her eyes to take a moment to breath in the mystic air around her, Morgana relished in the crowd’s cheers, roars, screams… the heat. Snapping her eyes back open, she returned to her opponent’s side and went to pick her up to finish this match once and for all. Meanwhile, a second referee had rushingly made their way to the ring and slid through the ropes.
"Here comes another official! Surely this is the end for Sydney.”
Before the goth wrestler could lay another attack on her, Sydney knocked away the hands that were pulling her up. Grabbing Morgana’s head, she hit her with a BFT, sending Morgana reeling.
"Sydney is getting back control, and dammit she deserves it after that despicable act from the wicked bitch of the AWE! Take over Sydney! Put her down!”
Back on her feet, and back in control, Sydney swooped down and lifted Morgana up into a Gorilla Press, before simply dropping her and letting her fall over five feet to the canvas. In a strangely uncharacteristic move, the blonde powerhouse then pointed her finger to the sky in a odd fluid and sensual motion for the military punk, that was instantly recognizable as one of Barbie’s taunts, and to complement this, she grabbed Morgana’s leg, and applied the winding and twisting hold that was equally recognisable as Barbie’s signature submission; Legally Blonde.
"That’s Barbie’s move! Is Sydney going to send a message to the women’s champion by finishing off her greatest rival with her own MOVE?”
“Oh dude, I can’t even handle this right now. It’s so weird seeing Sydney Ellis pull a Barbie. Man, I thought the match would end with a Jackhammer. But who knows?! Morgana could have more fight in her left and the Legally Blonde will not be the way she goes... again!”
Not only was Morgana stunned by this, but she was in absolute, excruciating pain and it showed in her face. Every attempt she did to try to escape only failed and reluctantly she tried to tap out. She had to. And yet, Sydney saw the hand about to tap out and forcefully grabbed it, before immediately releasing the hold and shaking her head.
Not like this.
She’s not going to win like this. Pulling Morgana up by her arm, she threw it over her shoulder, lifting Morgana up in a perfect vertical line, and delivered a devastating Jackhammer!
"Stick a fork in Morgana, she’s done.”
She makes the cover. 1...2...3!
"And just like that, we have a new number one contender! If you ask me, Barbie had better watch her back, because her perfect queendom has never been in more danger than it is right now.”
“RIP Morgana.”
The bell rang, and Sydney stood up, no longer looking at Morgana, as if, now that she has been conquered, the goth no longer existed. She let the ref raise her hand, then rolled out the ring, retrieving her cap. With nothing left to be said or proved, she marched back up the ramp to the sound of a deafening, mixed reaction.
Flying out of the backdoor was a man on a mission to bring his message to everyone who would dare listen to him: Caiden Winters. With a chip on his shoulder and a vendetta against damn near everyone in this company, he froze when he saw Joy standing there waiting for him, like she always seemed to be doing. “What do you want? I’m busy.”
“Caiden Winters!” More of an informal interview introduction, but it fit the moment. Joy rushed toward him to make sure he didn’t get too far because she knew better. She knew he was a man on a mission, always. The camera followed her and then shifted from her face to his, “There seems to be some backlash with your threat at Shock N AWE Chicago for Roddy Quinn. Some people think you’re stepping out of line and need to know your place, that all you’re doing is ruining the image he helped build for you. Do you have anything to say about this?” Might as well hit him hard from the get go.
“Let’s me and you get one thing straight right here and right now. You think Roderick Quinn built my image? I’ve been doing this since I was fourteen years old. You think he came to a boy in Canada who could barely speak English and built him up? What do you think I was doing my whole life when I wasn’t here? I was in a real company, led by a real man: Misawa Baba, who helped me from day fucking one, when I arrived in Japan and he trained me and he helped me become the man I am today. Because of him, I’ve headlined the Tokyo Dome, I’ve won the Grand Prix, I’ve won the Battle of Los Angeles. Me and your brother held eight different tag titles at once — did Roddy build his image too, Joy? Idiot.” Caiden spoke with such apprehension, such anger… unbridled emotion flowed with each of his words — as always. The consummate professional, he never took the condescending looking out of his face; how dare she claim such a thing.
He’d apologize later.
Of course, Joy would rather ask other questions, but for the sake of entertainment and at Kevin’s request, she would keep egging Caiden along. Her heart did drop when he called her an idiot, but she knew better… it was all an act. Right? “Then why are you here?! In HIS empire? You want to be great. You say you are great. And yet, you allow your anger to influence your actions and all the people can see is you not keeping it under control and having a downright tantrum.” There was visible frustration and focus in Joy’s expression and her voice rose with every word. Did she agree with what she was saying? Not entirely. Many people, especially his fans, knew he was great, no, the best, and he had the whole package. But she’d play devil’s advocate if that meant he’d get more attention and… stay.
“I don’t say I’m the great, I say that I’m the best. That I’m better than the best. And Joy? I came here to bring the pain.” Behind them, a long stretch limo rolled up, and Caiden shifted his footing as it came to a stop. “You remember, two weeks ago. You asked me how I was gonna get the old man’s attention? Watch.” And then, as soon as the door to the limo opened, and Roddy stepped out of it, Caiden was on him in a flash, clubbing the old man with an elbow and then throwing him against the wall.
The old man never had a chance, as he was manhandled by the angry wrestler. Caiden threw Roderick Quinn into a random car, and when the true king of AWE slumped against the door to the car, Caiden picked him up by his shirt so they were face to face, and Caiden spoke. “I’m done with you wasting my time.” He growled at him, before he took his boss’s head and smashed out the driver side window with it, slamming Roddy’s face through the glass.
When Roddy slumped down out of the car and down to the ground, his face was dripping with the proverbial crimson mask, bleeding like a stuffed pig. Caiden turned, and walked directly toward the camera, heading toward the gorilla area, and when he passed Chance, he shoulder checked him, the camera shaking in response. What? Gotta play up the character.
Although Joy wasn’t seen on camera and Chance had focused in on Roddy’s face, the audience could hear her surprised and frantic voice, “Don’t let him pass out! Someone call the paramedics!” As calm as her voice tried to sound, it was obvious that Joy Ryder was completely shook. Her brown strands came into frame as she rushed to her boss’ side and then the camera cut to the inside of AWE, the stage camera, that aimed towards the ramp.
The music hit, and apparently Roddy had done a good job creating a hated persona for him, because even after the vicious attack on his boss, Caiden Winter’s reaction was loud and powerful cheers. Everyone wanted to hear what he had to say, and why wouldn’t they? He’d just went off on the only person that had supported him through this, other than the fans. He made his way to the ring slowly and with purpose; he didn’t have a match and to be honest, he didn’t give a damn if he did waste their time. This was his fucking show.
He rolled under the bottom rope and walked to the other side of the ring and held his hand out for a microphone — and, maybe out of fear, a mic was quickly supplied. Caiden, stomping around the ring as he spoke, his hand shaking slightly — he was hyped — began to spit the eternal fire. “Whoops, guess I beat down Morgana’s daddy; I better watch my damn back, that bitch has got daddy issues.” Snickering slightly, Caiden continued his monologue, “I’m only going to say this once, and I’m going to make it nice and clear: I hate him. I hate Roderick Quinn, and I hate everything he stands for. Now, hate is… hate’s a strong word, but I mean it. I hate him so much. And you know why I hate him? Because there’s one thing that I can’t stand, that makes my blood boil and that’s being ignored. And being ignored even when I yell AND SCREAM! For something that’s not going to happen, THAT’S NOT GOING TO HAPPEN, and that’s an AWE title match… because someone back there knows that I am better than anything he has ever created, that his best creation — Drayden — could barely put me away when I had a dislocated shoulder, and mark my words, Drayden will never beat me again. Because I’m an indestructible wrestling machine, and I know every move in his book, I know counters to his counter’s counters. That’s fine, because Roddy Quinn can just sit backstage and watch me be better than anything or anyone that will ever step foot in this company.”
Caiden paused and let out a long breath. He closed his eyes and let himself calm down for a few seconds while the crowd cheered loudly. “There may never be another time that Caiden Winters steps into the ring at an AWE event and fights, but if there ever is, then it should be a good match; shake hands. Friendly competition between two great athletes… but it won’t be. Because, I hate everyone back there. I hate them, as shallow as it might be, because their bank statements look a lot better than mine after two years of being wasted potential here. Listen to me, I can only spend so many nights sleeping in my car, spill so many pints of blood, I can only go to the hospital and use a fake name because I can’t afford health insurance before I start thinking ‘you know, I don’t really wanna be so nice to people who have what I think… belongs to me.”
Another pause and this time Caiden was very suddenly fired up again. “I’M GONNA BEAT THE TRASH OUT OF WHOEVER STEPS FOOT IN THIS RING WITH ME NEXT! Because I’m hungry and I’m angry and I don’t… care, about anything. Right now, Roddy Quinn is being dragged back to the trainer’s room and he’s being examined to make sure yours truly didn’t do too much of a number on him, and he has no idea what he’s signed his company up for. Reality is going to give Roderick Quinn and all of the AWE a cold. Hard. SLAP! in the face.”
With that, Caiden Winters dropped the mic, and rolled out of the ring, heading back up the ramp.
The audience had been very surprised by the unexpected attack that Caiden had dealt to Roddy, but they weren’t able to dwell on the surprise long because the titantron went dark and the well known phrase from V for Vendetta began to start. The lights were dimmed to a mixture of some dark blue and some dark red. As the song started a solitary figure stepped out in front of the crowd with his signature weapon. As the beat began to pick up the lights got brighter and moved rapidly around the stadium. Initiate simply stood there as the crowd cheered. As the singers voice said ‘death’ Initiate began rushing down the ramp.
He then noticed a small cluster of people sitting in the front seats wearing the mask. Mathys smiled as he walked to them. He held his hand up in a fist and the ones wearing a mask joined in crossing all their arms with fists held up above them. He stayed there a moment then backed away and slid into the ring. Once in the ring he moved to the center and got to his knees. Grabbing the bat with both hands, one on each end, he sat there for a moment then proceeded to hit the mat a few times with the bat. Standing up he took his jacket off and then tossed them outside the ring in front of the commentators.
A few brief moments later, the Golden One Centre was sunk into crimson red. The titantron flourished back to life, showing the signature silver symbol of Anarchy. Mathys’ opponent walked out, head down until the music crescendoed into the lyrics, and the wave of fire erupted either side of Chaos Clayton, and his wild, crazy eyes scanned the crowd. This time, Clayton’s hair highlights and cargo pants were a dirty, mustard yellow. Clayton then fixated on the cluster of “Initiates” at the end of the ramp. He then procured a copy-cat mask, but this time it was cracked across it. He waved it about as he strode across the ramp.
Clayton faced the camera and put the mask beside his face, running his thumb across his neck then turning to Initiate who stood in the ring. Clayton pointed at the Opponent and tossed the mask towards the side of the ring, sliding to the bottom of the ring before the Anarchist leapt up and turned back to the crowd, roaring out before stepping in. Clayton got right up to the Initiate and pressed his forehead against the mask. It took the referee to push Clayton away and get the two in the corners for the match to start properly.
“This match is going to be an all out war between the idea of Chaos and the power of Revolution. Whoever wins this match is going to be able to advance in the tournament and push his agenda on the AWE with force! Holding the world title brings all eyes on you, and if you have those eyes… your message will be heard.”
Initiate cocked his head as the ref made Clayton go to his corner. When the bell rang Initiate slowly moved towards the man he nearly towered over. Initiate made the motions to go for a collar and elbow tie up but as Clayton reacted Initiate brought his leg up to kick Clayton right in the gut. Quickly Initiate grabbed Clayton’s head in a sprawl position. It was obvious at this point what Initiate was doing. Keeping Clayton on the ground should cancel out his brawling and high flying.
“The Initiate is doing his best to keep the Anarchist down on the ground so he can’t do what we all know him for: flying high and knocking heads. If he can keep the okizeme rolling, then this match is almost a surefire victory for him.”
“The what now? Is that even a proper Japanese word?”
“It’s a video game thing… it means ground game.”
“WHAT A NERD.” Kane chuckled to himself and continued his banter, “Nurdddddddddd.”
Clayton grasped at Initiates’ arms, managing to scramble up onto his knees but was nowhere near able to push the Initiate off just yet. Clayton attempted to wrench Initiate away but it was clear that his strength would get sapped away too soon if he couldn’t break away. The Anarchist freed up one arm to strike Initiates’ abdomen to try and force his opponent to deal with two things at once.
“Clean moves from Clayton, he’s fighting back. He doesn’t want to be kept on the ground game for very long!”
“It’s a game of wits now so Chaos Clayton can have the high ground. What the Initiate doesn’t realize is great changes usually start with a bit of chaos. The power of a revolution needs the idea of chaos.”
Initiate took the blows to his abdomen in order to try and switch the hold to where Clayton couldn’t hit him. Initiate slowly started standing bringing Clayton up. Before getting fully to his feet Initiate grabbed Clayton’s head and slammed him down into the mat. Initiate jumped in the air and delivered an elbow drop to Clayton’s torso. He quickly moved into a pin trying to hold Clayton down.
“An early pin here from the Initiate, he’s looking to close this match out as fast as he can. And who can blame him? The ideal way to advance in the tournament is quick and fast, don’t you think? Save your energy for the next match. Save it for the finals.”
“No. I don’t agree. That just means he ain’t got enough endurance. The best way to advance is to tire your opponent out so you’re guaranteed to win. If you don’t got enough energy and drive, what are you doing in the ring?!”
Clayton only had a brief opportunity to hold the back of his head from the slam before taking a gravity-fuelled elbow drop from the Initiate. The referee slapped the mat once before Clayton managed to kick out.
“Of course that isn’t going to work with Clayton! He’s got a lot left in the tank, you’ll have to do better than that to put him away! He’s got a lot left in the tank!”
“It’s the endurance, man. Fueled by pure mayhem. Chaos Clayton can fight all day, everyday.”
He attempted to roll away to the side of the ring and clutching the ropes, using them to help him scramble up onto his feet. Clayton sprinted at the Initiate, leaping up to deliver a flying forearm smash.
Initiate stood up from the failed pin and watched curiously as Clayton rolled towards the ropes. When he got up and leaped at Initiate with a forearm, Initiate brought his arm up to deliver an uppercut. He didn’t fully connect and the forearm sent him to the ground. He held the back of his head as he rose to one knee still bent over.
“High energy moves from Clayton! Chaos is going to force the Initiate to wrestle his type of match, and that’s the bottom line — because Chaos Clayton said so.”
“Like a boss.”
Clayton landed and turned around, looking over his shoulder at his handiwork. Clayton looked up at the roof of the building and chuckled as he threw his arms out, turning as he did it. After his maniacal laughter was over, Clayton grabbed the Initiate's head and pulled him up onto his feet, tossing him into the ropes with an irish whip. As the Initiate rebounded back towards Clayton, he leapt up and twisted his body round, jutting his arm out for a Corkscrew Elbow.
“Beautiful elbow right to the damn dome. Business is about to pick up!”
“Toldja, the Anarchist knows what he’s doing.” Kane wasn’t fully impressed. He wanted more blood. But he was sure they had tricks up their sleeves. He honestly couldn’t wait until the PPV. Shit would get real, real fast.
Initiate landed in a way to make it look like a hard landing. However, he quickly sat up arching his back and holding his hand there. Looking straight at Clayton he stood up and mocked him by gesturing him to bring it. Initiate ran to the ropes, bounced off in Clayton’s direction, and began spinning around to deliver a Cyclone Kill.
Clayton readied himself and caught the Initiates’ foot. The Anarchist shook his head as if to say “Oh no you don’t” before spinning the Initiate around and kicking him in the midriff before pushing him to the floor.
“Not today, Initiate. Today, Chaos Clayton says no and you sit your ass down and wait and see what happens! I love it! I love it!”
“Is Clayton converting you, Wade? Are you actually down with disorder?”
“I’m down with this match that’s happening right here, right now.”
Clayton wasted no time and hopped up onto the turnbuckle, turning around before standing up and throwing his arms up high, hands turned into the Rocker signs before flying through the air for a Meteora aerial attack. Initiate stood up and turned to see Clayton flying at him. He didn’t have time to move or dodge and was hit by the attack. Clayton dropped beside the Initiate but rolled up onto his feet before moving over and pinning down Initiate, trying to secure the win, going as far as to push his hand down onto his opponent’s face, which in reality didn’t hurt thanks to Mathys’ mask.
“That’s gotta be the end of this! Clayton’s gonna advance!”
Initiate raised his legs in the air and swung them down to give him momentum to knock Clayton away just after the ref got to one. He quickly stumbled to his feet and stumbled back until he hit the ropes then ran forward at Clayton going for a running clothesline.
“KICK OUT! Maybe the Initiate has more in him than I thought he did.”
“Said NO ONE ever. COME ON, CLAYTON! What are you DOING?”
Clayton landed hard on his back as he collided with the Initiate’s clothesline. Clayton stood onto a knee, panting and recovering. Mathys grinned as he grabbed Clayton’s head and pulled him into a knee. He lifted Clayton to his feet and threw him towards the ropes. As he bounced back to where Initiate stood he grabbed him and spun around in a Spinning Side Slam. Initiate jumped to his feet and walked to the ropes screaming. The crowd joined in by chanting
LET’S GET WEIRD!
LET’S GET WEIRD!
LET’S GET WEIRD!
“You can say whatever you want about the strangeness of the Initiate — and it is there, but he certainly gets the crowd behind him.”
“By crowd, you mean the children.” Kane scoffed in annoyance.
Initiate fell backwards to the mat and imitated Clayton as he stood up. Once both were standing Initiate shifted into a mock runners starting position then ran towards Clayton trying for the Cyclone Kill again. Clayton just managed to duck under the kick and brought both of his fists up to unleash a combo of strikes. He began with a solid left jab followed by a swift kick to Initiate’s shin. Initiate staggered back after every strike and as soon as he was pressed against the ropes, Clayton grabbed his legs and flipped him over, sending The Initiate tumbling to the ramp.
“This time the Initiate fails to hit him with the kick! Clayton ducked under, let’s see if he can capitalize on that dodge!”
Initiate fell to the ground and landed on his back. He rolled over onto his front and slowly made his way to his feet. After stretching his back he turned back towards the ring. However, Clayton was already rebounding off of the ropes and propelled himself towards Initiate, Suicide Diving straight between the top and middle rope like a dart. Initiate angled himself to do a Snap Scoop Powerslam but missed the grab and went down to the ground with Clayton on top.
“TOPÉ SUICIDA!” “TOPÉ SUICIDA!”
“...Get out of my head, Wade!”
However, due to how the Initiate angled himself, Clayton didn’t land the Dive perfectly, and took the landing pretty hard at the same time. He rolled off of the Initiate and stared up in a dazed manner. The cameraman zoomed in on both of the downed wrestlers as the referee began to count them out, the crowd counting along with the official.
"1! 2! 3!”
“The ref’s count begins! If these two super stars don’t make it into the ring fast enough, then this match is over in the most dissatisfying way.”
Initiate slowly got up to his knee and from there used the apron to fully stand up. He walked over to Clayton and, grabbing him by the hair, lifted him up. He kneed him in the gut then turned around slinging him towards the barricade while the ref and crowd yelled,
"4! 5! 6!”
Clayton grunted as his back collided with the barricade, but as the Initiate closed in, he delivered a major kick to the Initiate’s stomach before quickly making his way back to the ring to beat the count out. However, he turned around and saw that the Initiate was still hot on his heels. Clayton sped up and leapt up onto the side of the ring.
“7! 8!”
However, instead of catching the ropes, Clayton kicked off from it and delivered a pitch perfect Disaster Kick straight to the Initiate’s head. Initiate fell straight to the ground. Mathys reached up and slid the mask a little in a way no one would see to make it look like the kick had connected hard.
“Maybe Clayton doesn’t care about this victory, about that title belt! He just wants to hurt his opponent here!”
"9!”
Clayton quickly turned on his heels and dove onto the apron, sliding himself securely back into the ring.
"10!”
“You were saying?” Kane gave his coworker, and friend, a smug look.
The referee rung the bell and the match was over. While some of the crowd cheered, another part booed due to the circumstance of the win. Clayton rolled back out as his music blared throughout the arena again, and he made his way back to the ramp. Before he walked up it, he looked back at the Initiate, then back to the group of his white masked fans before scoffing and exiting the arena.
“And just like that, Chaos Clayton moves to the semifinals! Maybe not the most satisfying victory… but a victory and an advance in the tournament, nonetheless.”
|| PLACEHOLDER || AFTERSHOCK with Wade Palmer and Joy Ryder, featuring Thunderbird | I see you!
The best things in life are dangerous, like me.
5' ¾", 106 lbs - 5'8", 135 lbs
2 years Developmental, will debut soon with her husband
3 Years at AWE, 2 years at Developmental. 5 years total.
|Birth Name |
» Alice Jane Slayer (Kennedy)
» Ariel Michelle Slayer (Flanagan)
|Hails From |
» Atlanta, GA
» April 17 (26)
» October 22 (23)
|Backstage Rep |
» You got all these sweethearts dressed as bitches, guess what? Ari is a fucking bitch on and off the ring. She does not like you. It takes her a LONG time to accept you into her world because your flaws are blaring red and she fucking hates it. Some people do not get the concept of personal space. If she's doing her own thing, don't interrupt her. She enjoys dark humor, other people's drama, and crude people. Constantly observing her surroundings, she will size you up before you approach her. Ruthless. Entitled. & Impatient. She was never fond of dealing with people, which is honestly her biggest weakness on the ring. Charisma, that is. It isn't something that comes naturally to her like it does for her little sister.
As flawed as Ari is, those she does let in, like her husband, Michael Flanagan, know that she does mean well, but due to personal experiences, her built mechanism of verbally lashing out at people to protect her own, has gotten to a point where she can't really break it down over night. Ari is a tough cookie and audaciously bold. A risk taker, through and through. A primadonna is an understatement of her personality and Ari refuses to be considered less than. She aims to be in the big leagues, even if it means she might break a few bones...
You see, she and Michael were already dating prior to their debut at AWE, which was near the same time. It wasn't hard for him to gain attraction because even if he leans more on the timid side when he's out of character, he's a phenomenal heel and it shined through since day 1. Ari, however, spent her first two years figuring out her image. She was simply a blank canvas, a doll of a woman, and a temperamental wrestler, who fought well enough to get her to the mid card but required A LOT of polishing, as she tried her downright best to 'find herself' in the ring.
A year ago, Michael and her got married, and for a year, the writers have been pushing her more toward his storyline to enhance his biker boy look and guess what? It's working. People are starting to see the character behind the bitch. While Ajax is the tail gunner of his motorcycle gang, Fallen Angels, she is his queen. The Bonnie to his Clyde, who knows her way around her gun, or in this case the ring, and isn't afraid to use that to her advantage. She's a tough-talking, quick-shooting criminal and is growing to be a machine gun-blazing woman who you better not underestimate. Whenever she's threatened, she doesn't even flinch, she jumps right in and marks her territory. Fearless and it's all thanks to the writers pushing her more in the direction of the rebel girl archetype because it's something Ariel can actually relate to.
Fun fact: She isn't fond of motorcycles, but for love, she'll get on one.
» Amore hasn't debuted yet, but her face is known backstage because of her sister. The young, energetic valet aspires to be as influential as Jezebel (FC: Jessa Hinton), who was the Faceless' on-screen eye candy and eventual wife. Jezebel may have made the Faceless seem more humane, but Amore? She wants to do more than be an accessory for her love. Revolutionize the role of valets all over! At the root of it all, Alice is a business woman, who doesn't just want to 'accompany' her husband when she's on the ring with him. She wants to get heavily involved in the action inside, outside, within the audience-- ANYWHERE. A dreamer, the doll aims to earn the loudest pops of the night. Her beloved Benjamin tells her she has a niche and that is her charisma. Her stage presence. When Amore is in the spotlight, there is no doubt people will be starstruck.
Sneaky, cunning, and without hesitation, Amore will do absolutely anything for Mordecai to heighten his chances of winning. It helps that she has one sexy act that no one can top. Rated R, sexy-goodness. She acts like a child, but moves her body like a woman. Her influence is undeniable and even if wrestling isn't her top skill (it's singing and acting), she will go down in history!
As for backstage? A lovable, naive, playful and misleading young adult. Careless and foolish. Accidental prone when she isn't performing. Alice doesn't want to grow up, so she'll act far younger than she is. Oh, and she's scary possessive over her husband.
|Other |
» FCs: Kerli Kõiv & Jana
» 721728 & 324C83
|Fighting Style |
» Ari keeps you on your toes, you never know what to expect and has a passion for power. Known for her agility, high stunts, and her attitude, Ari, from the get go, set her sight on cleaning up the Divas division, showing that girls were more than accessories and tools. Even her sister, who does strut her body like it's nobody's business, isn't just that. A body. Amore is a character, whose insanity and giggles will be what the people remember. Psychotic little girl trapped in a woman's form.
Meanwhile, Ari has commitment to excellence and wants to be recognized as a professional wrestler, with Ajax by her side. Her goal: to be one of the most vicious Divas of her era. She doesn't even have to be one of the stars, she just wants to be scary. Although she isn't there yet, she will continue to work her ass off. Her current success is all thanks to her athleticism, hotheaded personality, impressive arsenal of offensive maneuvers, and her husband's biker persona.
Ari has countless ways of finishing her opponents and she will not give into status quo. A true queen of the rebels.
|Signature Moves |
» Highside (Diving Hurricanrana)
» Ari Bomb (Lita Bomb)
» Eating Asphalt (Swanton Bomb)
» Helmet Head (Hardiac Arrest)
|Finisher |
» Boneyard Moonsault (Moonsault)
» New Prime (Widow's Peak)
|Theme |
» Whatever she had before, doesn't matter. Now she has Superhuman to match Ajax.
|Gimmick |
» As said earlier in backstage rep, Ari is Ax's Bonnie to his Clyde. His ride or die. They have a fiery dynamic and shower each other with attention. They are motivated by chasing the danger, excitement, and action of wrestling. He's the gun, she's the trigger. If Ari isn't happy, Ajax is pissed. He might be the King of the Hill but without his queen, the high of living it dangerous 24/7 isn't as addicting. They're into each other in a visceral and physical way. There is a sense of co-dependency and downright bat-shit insanity between these two. Ariel even went out of her way to get 'His' tattoo on her lower back, to match Michael's "Hers" tattoo on his arm, to add to their act (when he wraps his arm around her, the audience would know - she belongs to him). A psychotic and possessive love story where their need for one another is absolutely dangerous for anyone, including each other.
Soon enough, the audience will learn crazy runs in the Slayer family because when Amore makes her debut, they'll see that the blonde is light years ahead in the insanity department.
As for fashion sense? Ari is a daredevil biker chick. Leather jacket with the Fallen Angels symbol, bustiers to showcase her stomach and her back (especially when her coat is off), leather boots, denim, the color scheme black and white, bandannas, anything really that makes her look like a total badass.
|Face or Heel |
» Heel
|Job at AWE |
» Amore will be a valet for Mordecai, who is her husband off screen.
|Skills |
» Persistent and high physical stamina
Charming and full of energy, Alice is an energetic doer, cheerful and extremely spontaneous. A true woman of action. Even if she doesn't seem it, she has strong observational skills and a keen sense to other people's feelings. Quite the problem solver, regardless of her outlandish methods. This spirited blonde would like to think she's an excellent diplomat and negotiator, especially when it comes to her pitching ideas. By nature, she's too open and direct to deliberately manipulate someone (lies and manipulation is foreign to her, unless it's for an act), but she will fight her cause until there isn't any fight left in her.
» Improviser
Perceptive, witty, and clever. Rarely missing anything that is important, because she approaches everything with curiosity and interest, Alice will take impossible situations and make 'em great. Her memory for details and facts are impressive. She absorbs everything that interests her like a sponge, storing it in her noggin for later use.
» Dancing, acting, and gymnastic experience.
Pretty point blank, Alice kept her family busy by getting them to sign her up to as much as possible so she can get better at... life. Also, with such a busy schedule when she was younger, she didn't need to be home, which was a far more pleasant option than dealing with the turmoil. Her home life drew her insane. Convincing her parents to get her involved in the community was the easy part, making them part of it, her life, though? Not so much.
» Odd & blessed with boundless creativity
Alice has always been a little weirdo. Too much individuality for one girl. And yet, she doesn't know how to be any different. Sure, some of her creative ideas are concerning and creepy, but why should she limit herself? If her mind wants to run rampant, it should! Being different isn't a bad thing and Alice will never change for anyone.
|Looks & Style |
» Inspired by her aunt, who led a broken family with dignity and grace, Amore strives to be a visual masterpiece. Her aunt was a woman who carried whatever she wore like a queen. A queen who had an undeniable ability to live a life of pure kindness. Alice's goal, no matter where she is, or if she's being Amore or not, is to make her image timeless. Definitive and iconic, to where it is her trademark. Her look. A look that pushes boundaries and continues to evolve. Alice wants to be a trend setter, a walking fashion statement, and when people look at their television screen or see her on the ring, she wants them to recognize her immediately and maybe, just maybe, follow her as an example. If she can aspire others to walk with an air of confidence, loving who they were, while also not being afraid to explore out of the box, then her life would be more than fulfilled.
What more could you ask for? She's happily married, she has endless projects that make her smile, she's about to start the career of her life that will hopefully set her on a remarkable path of happiness and success, and if she's able to move someone or an entire audience in ways not many people can, then she can say she is more than satisfied with the life she's been given.
Hardships aside. Alice is a happy girl.
|Personality Traits |
» Visionary → Imaginative → Fun-Loving → Gregarious → Persistent → Dutiful (even if she is unbeknownst to the fact that she's a tease) → Exuberant → Trusting → Picky → Dependent → Reckless → Fearful (primarily of her husband leaving her)
|Favorite wrestler |
» She's biased. Her husband, even if he hasn't made his mark yet. Alice will make it known that he's HER favorite. |
49,082 | 1,324 | 55 | 2,789 | 249 | Segment 1: Sexton P.S. Love In-Ring Promo
Sexton Love's music hit, but it was impossible to tell. The sound was completely overpowered by the thunderous chorus of boos eminating from the San Jose crowd. Sexton was still backstage in the gorilla position, and despite receiving the producer's go signal he took some time before making his entrance. It was all about about milking the crowd response. Although he might've phrased the analogy in slightly different terms.
"You gotta stroke it daddeh," said the Lovely One, finally stepping through the curtain.
There it was.
The noise in the arena multiplied upon Sexton's appearance, and continued to grow as he arrogantly sauntered down to the ring. Feeling as though the heat-seeking sports jerseys had run their course over the last couple of weeks, Tyrannosaurus Sex had instead settled on wearing his electrifying new "$EX SELL$" gimmick tee-shirt. Naturally the sleeves had been cut off. Bicep flexing was cruical.
"You see that daddeh?" yelled Bodzilla, directly into the camera. "I am the man with the largest arm. The man that causes harm. The real deal, sex appeal, man of STEEL..."
For a long time, Sexton had been fundamentally against the idea of selling merchandise as a heel. That was until he had received his first royalty cheque in the mail. Somehow money had made things slightly more palletable. It was a business after all.
"SEX SELLS darlin'..." he said, pointing at the slogan across the front of his shirt. "...nobody does it better..."
As the Love Doctor climbed into the ring, the camera panned around and was able to get a shot of his back. Written across the flip side of the shirt were the words "Gimme the f#%kin' mic!", and the ring announcer complied as soon as Sexton stepped between the ropes.
Sexton banged on the top of the microphone, obnoxiously checking to make sure it was on.
"I TOLD YA DADDEH," he began, already being interrupted by jeers from the audience. "I told ya I was a man's man, a ladies' man... and a BAD, BAD MAN!"
The San Jose crowd certainly seemed to think so, as Sexton lowered the mic and allowed the audience reaction to play itself out.
"Last week, LIVE on Shock N' Awe, the whole world got a reminder. A reminder of just how bad I am daddeh. They got a reminder when they saw their hero...The Man Called Thunderbird... bloodied, feathered, and LAID OUT AT MY FEET! ...I didn't think he could GET more red daddeh, until I saw him busted WIDE open!"
He was probably going to catch a lot of flack for that last line. But it was worth it.
"...Oh yes indeed... he had that HEAVY FLOW darlin'..." said Sexton, stopping momentarily as his gaze caught the eye of an overweight woman in the front row. "You know exactly what I'm talkin' about you big ol' nasty bitch!"
A hell of a way to talk to the woman that drove you to the arena.
"But it's not enough daddeh," he continued, getting back on point. "It's not enough for Sexton P.S. Love to show that he's a bad man. He needs to show that he's the BETTER man. I need to beat Thunderbird in the middle of this ring, 1... 2... 3. You heard that right darlin'. The Man They Call Love needs to put DOWN The Man They Call Bird. Down for the three count daddeh.
The challenge had been made, and just like selling those electrifying tee-shirts it was time to sell some pay-per-views. It was time to "talk 'em into the building" as they say, and a sell a wrestling match.
And nobody was a better salesman than Sexton Love.
"...THAT'S why I did what I did last week darlin'. Thunderbird got lucky in our first match. He got lucky when he knocked Sexton Love out of the World's Title Tournament, and denied this company the CHAMPION it deserves. Thunderbird got lucky, so Sexton Love got even. That's right daddeh. Sexton Love needs to be the FACE of American Wrestling Entertainment. He needs to be the FACE... the BODY... the MIND... and the BALLS of this company! He needs to be the World's Heavyweight Champion! We can't have a man like Thunderbird as the World's Champion. That just doesn't fly daddeh. Thunderbird can't be the face of anything, he HIDES his face behind a mask...
So Birdy baby, here's what I want. I want The Man They Call Love vs. The Man They Call Bird... September 18th... Las Vegas, Nevada... LIVE on pay-per-view... AT SIN CITY SHOWDOWN! That's right daddeh, a SHOWDOWN in the wild west. The City of SIN will become the City of LOVE, and I will paint the town RED with your blood. I will prove that I am a MAN'S MAN, A LADIES'S MAN....and the BETTER MAN!
Because SEX......... SE--
His catchphrase was cut-off by the sound of Thunderbird's music, and the sound of the SAP Center erupting. Thunderbird was here. Fans were on their feet, and chanting the mighty Bird's name. This was the confrontation they wanted to see. This confrontation they had paid to see.
Thunderbird stepped out onto the ramp, his eyes fixed on Sexton Love standing down in the ring. He had a bandage still covering the gash across his hairline, just above the top of his blue mask. It was clear that Thunderbird was still the worse for wear, clear that he was still feeling the effects of last week's vicious attack. Clear to everyone except for Thunderbird.
The proud warrior stood defiant, a microphone in his hand. This was a somewhat strange sight, given the fact that the Bird was a man of few words. He did his talking in the ring, from bell to bell. Last week he was doing just that. He had come so close to advancing in the World Championship Tournament, until Sexton Love got himself involved, along with a steel chair, and screwed him out of the match. The Love Doctor proceeded to perform surgery on Thunderbird's head, with the steel chair has his instrument. Thunderbird had come to San Jose for payback. Indeed he held a microphone in his hand, but he was not here to talk.
He was here to fight.
"Why wait until September 18th?" said Thunderbird, walking towards the ring with ruthless intentions. "If you want a showdown, I'm right HERE."
Sexton readied himself in the ring, dropping his own microphone and raising his fights. The Sexecllence of Sexecution seemed just as ready to square off in San Jose.
"You ain't man enough darlin'," yealled Sexton, hands still raised. "You ain't man enough!"
The Love Doctor was a highly intelligent man, but in this case he turned out to be wrong. Without hesitation, Thunderbird rushed the ring, and without hesitation, Sexton love bailed out on the other side.
"Boooooooooo!"
Thunderbird stood tall in the middle of the ring, ready to fight, but Sexton circled around the perimeter shaking his head. Not tonight. Definitely not tonight.
"PAY-PER-VIEW daddeh... Pay. Per. View." said Sexton, with the camera clearly picking up on his words. "I'll see you in Vegas Birdy..."
Sexton continued to circle around the side of the ring, passing by the same large woman he had insulted a few minutes earlier. Enraged, the hefty fan reached out over the barricade attempting to grab the retreating villain, scratching and clawing at his sleeveless shirt and mullet. Sexton immediately yanked himself away and scampered up the ramp.
"Get your hands off me you funky bitch!" | Sexton P.S. LoveThe Sexcellence of Sexecution
6'4 - 269 lbs. | 10 years experience
|Hails From |
» Venice Beach, California
» July 29th 1988 (29)
|Fighting Style |
» Despite the flashy tights and flashy women, the Lovely One's in-ring style is anything but flashy. A true student of the game, Sexton Love has developed into a highly respected ring general, working an old school heel style. During a match, Sexton spends as much time focused on the women at ringside as he does on his opponent, and will frequently bail out of the ring to flex and pose in front of his female fans.
|Signature Moves |
» Sex Plex (Rolling German Suplex w/bridge)
» Piledriver
» Impale-Her DDT
» Massive Package (small package)
|Finisher |
» Sexecutor (Torture Rack Neckbreaker)
» Love Lock (Muta Lock)
|Theme |
»
|Gimmick |
» The Sexiest There Is, Sexiest There Was, and Sexiest There Ever Will Be...
Sexton P.S. (Purely Sex) Love is a sleazy, arrogant, womanizing heel with a seemingly endless stream of catchphrases. Sex sells, and nobody sells it better than Sexton Love. His main influences are Superstar Billy Graham, Macho Man Randy Savage, The Universal Hearthrob Austin Idol, and of course, Ravishing Rick Rude. Sexton Love is here to bring sexy BACK to American Wrestling Entertainment darlin', and become the new AWE World's Heavyweight Champion. He wants the title on his waist and the camera on his face daddeh, because whether you like it or not...SEX...SELLS!
|Face or Heel |
» HEEL
|Backstage Rep |
» Ask anyone in the wrestling business about Sexton Love, and they'll tell you the same thing: he lives his gimmick. His fans may be known as the "Sex Addicts," but in real life he is the one with the addiction. He goes out every night, in every town, and has established a network of devoted ring rats from coast to coast. "I'm the KING OF THE ROAD daddeh." His most important possession is his fanny pack, containing a Skittles-like cocktail of pain killers, Viagara, and natural male enhancement.
|Other |
» Face Claim: Michael P.S. Hayes |
49,083 | 1,324 | 56 | 2,363 | 319 | Collaboration with
On the Road
"Welcome to Denny's. Can I interest you in a grandslamwich? They're very popular!"
"May I ask what's in a...grandslamwich?"
"You get two eggs, a sausage, some bacon, some ham, mayonaisse, cheese and maple spread. All inside a sandwich."
"....I'll have the cranberry apple chicken salad, please. And some coffee. Thanks."
Oscar stared after the waiter as he left. That sandwich he just suggested sound like 500% of his recommended daily allowance of everything. Better to eat light than eat heavy, in Oscar's opinion. He'll just make up the macro defecit with dinner.
He looked around the restaurant. He'd arrived early and got a table. Jean should be arriving about now. It was surprising how few people had approached him recognising him, though half the bar had stared at him at some point, and one woman had asked if he was an actor. He had replied that he was, in a manner of speaking. Oscar just had one of those faces that people recognise but not where from. It didn't help that at the period where he was World Champ and main heel of the company, he had long hair and no beard. Casual viewers or parents of fans might have a whole conversation with him and not recognise him.
Denny's was a restaraunt that Jean knew well, because they were extremely consistent when it came to being mediocre. The same quality standard persisted across the country, but their grilled chicken was alright and you could find them at about half of the interstate exits in the nation. He didn't like to eat anything too greasy on the road, and Denny's did a better job that rivals like Fridays or Applebees.
He found the table where Oscar was sitting just as the waiter left, but he could flag them down on the next pass. Jean was pretty anonymous, not the kind of wrestler who sold many t-shirts or appeared in advertising, but sitting with Oscar might jog someone's memory more than he would on his own. While he waited, he figured that it would be good to get to business early, they could talk about other matters after their food came. "So," he said "It's a short feud, but we can make something good. The first match is a throwaway on TV, so it won't be much, but we should think about how the others will go. For the PPV, I was thinking of working the legs, because you've got a lot of flying moves. What would you do, would you match me and go techical, or shift to brawling or something else?"
Oscar thought for a while. "If I mainly use high-flying moves in the tournament match to wrestle smart and keep out your reach, and you worked my legs in the PPV match, I'd probably start with technical, to try and prove that I can do that as well as you can, and when it turns out I can't, then start using a much dirtier brawler style. I think that would tell it's own story with nothing but the styles I'm using."
Jean took a look at the specials on the menu while they talked, just in case there was anything that looked tempting enough to tear him away from his usual dish. He said "You're good with that style switching stuff, I think the crowd would get into it. That's something that's neat about AWE, they encourage people to mix it up. Back in Japan, the promotion and the trainers had their style and I that's what I spent my time working on. I was fine with it, but some people, guys like Caiden, wanted variety so they spent their early years floating between promotions. Speaking of promoter's preferences, have they told you anything specific they want out of us? All I've gotten so far is the finishes."
"That's the good thing about being a pro in this company. You're trusted enough to make up the rest of the match yourself. Having said that, there was a part of the commentary where I claimed I could escape a Tripitaka lock. I'm sorry I have to ask this, and it's okay if you say no, but may I pretty please escape a tripitaka lock without rope-breaking?" Oscar pleased, even linking his hands together in a prey gesture.
Jean smilead and waved his hand, gesturing that everything was alright. "Yeah, I'm alright with that. I like to protect it, but this is program is a little bigger than what I usually do. One of the reasons I went with this finisher is because there's a good escape to it, the forward roll looks clean on the camera and you can chain it into something else. Anything else you want to brainstorm? I've got a couple leglock to armlock transitions that I was thinking of using for the third match, the one where I win. It'll be like I'm building on the working the leg from the PPV match, but this time also wearing down the arm to set up the finish."
Oscar's food arrived at that point. He thanked the waiter then took a forkful of the salad. When he finished, he responded. "I prefer to think up sequences in the training center, but I do have a few spots runing around my head, like hitting you with the belt to win in the first match, but winning the second with an Over and Out. I don't believe in dirty title changes."
Jean put in his order, knowing that it might be a while before it arrived, as the restauraunt was almost full by this point. "Sounds good. After this series, I heard you're going to be part of that big storyline with Caiden. If I remember, you've been wanting to work with him for a while now. It's great that AWE keeps bringing in fresh talent and trying new things, but some of the time I wonder about the new generation. Again, I don't have the benefit of being here long enough to see different eras, but the future of any promotion rests on how it cultivates it's young talent."
"Well," Oscar replied after another mouthful, "As one of the new kids myself once, along with Drayden and Johny Walker, though he left a few years ago, we ushered in the new era that actually seems to be ending now with guys like Caiden being the next faces of the company, and my job as one of the faces of the old generation is to get him over. Then again, from what I've learned about the story for him, we won't need that much of my help to become huge. It doesn't hurt that him, as well as the rest of the new arrivals, are some of the best wrestlers on the planet."
Jean thought for a moment, mulling over the changes AWE had seen. He wasn't a scholar of their history, and even when growing up he only knew about it from channel flipping and advertising, wrestling just wasn't something they watched in the Mpolondo household. "These guys might differ in many things, from styles to experience to personality, but I see the same drive in every one of them. Caiden might have it stronger than anyone. We both started around the same time in Japan and we crossed paths a couple times, but he's always been distant, like nothing outside of the ring matters. I get the feeling that this is what life is about to him, that it's something he can never leave behind even when it's time to go home after the show. I kind of stumbled into this career and I'm grateful for it, but I can't say that it's the fulfillment of my dreams or anything. To me, it's just what I do to support my family."
"I can understand you both to a degree. This used to just be a job to me. I clocked in, wrestled, trained, planned the next match, clocked out and then spent my free time how I chose. But the AWE...well, it is my family now. I don't leave the ring and go back to a normal life, I leave the ring and go back to the locker room, and only ever leave the locker room until it's time for the next match. At least that's how it feels. I'm not sure if I'll ever have time for a real family." | SavakaWe fall so that we may learn to rise again
6’ 1” – 220 lbs | 14 Years of Experience
|Birth Name |
Jean Francois Mpolondo
|Hails From |
» New York City
» January 3rd, 1982 (35)
|Fighting Style |
» Savaka is a technical wrestler through and through. He has spent most of his career wrestling for a shoot-style promotion that emphasized realism and grappling, giving him strong matwork skills. Expect lots of chain wrestling and reversals in his matches, along with a wide variety of submission holds and quick pinfall attempts. With his current gimmick, he especially likes to wear down the arm of his opponent to set up for his finisher, which gives him the opportunity to show off his various wristlocks and armbars. He uses the big slams and suplexs more conservatively than most wrestlers, often waiting until the match is well underway and using less flashy moves to get things to the ground, such as arm drags or judo style throws and trips. As part of his current gimmick, he does not use strikes, but does have a few kicks and stomps and stomps that look good if that were to change, his punches and forearms blows are not as polished. He has virtually no high-flying moves, because they are not part of the style he is used to and because he prefers not to take risks.
|Signature Moves |
» Cross Armbreaker
» Hammerlock Suplex
» Small Package Pin
» Cross Kneelock
|Finisher |
» Tripitaka Lock (Omoplata, poses as though he is meditating once it is locked in)
» Kalachakra(Granby Roll)
|Theme |
»
|Gimmick |
» Jean portrays the character Savaka, a monk following a new age religion called the Way of Peace. Initially brought in as the bodyguard to another character with spiritual guru gimmick, he has kept the gimmick because creative has had little direction for him. The character is stoic and seldom speaks, and has sworn a vow of nonviolence that prevents him from using strikes, leaving him to rely on submission holds and throws in the ring. Savaka is lodged solidly in the midcard, collecting some wins but never building momentum and frequently putting over other wrestlers headed on to greater heights. When he does get time on the mic he uses and exaggeratedly calm voice and relies on generic new age phrases about enlightenment and mindfulness. Savaka also will pose like he’s meditating or praying frequently, and displays an unnatural tranquility when caught in submission holds. He dresses in something close to the stereotypical Shaolin monk outfit, orange and yellow robes with one sleeve.
|Face or Heel |
» Face
|Backstage Rep |
» Jean came from a family of Congolese immigrants, and always felt a little awkward in school. He loved sports but never really cared about winning or losing, which meant he never really felt like he fit in with the rest of the jocks at school. After getting a degree in English he went to Japan to teach, hoping to see more of the world. As a regular at the local gym he befriended some pro wrestlers and began training with them. It was not an easy process, even with a background in amateur wrestling, but he put in the effort and debuted with Combaticon, a shoot style promotion. There he built a solid career and honed his skills, even though he was never the top star he still had several classic matches and developed a reputation as a safe and reliable worker.
Combaticon would run into financial difficulties as time went on. The older wrestlers bodies began to break down from the stress, and the rising popularity of MMA started to cut into their market, and the owner made several questionable decisions. Seeing the writing on the wall, Jean left for AWE. AWE likes the fact that he is a safe worker who can get a good match out of almost anyone, but they quickly discovered that he was almost devoid of charisma. Coupled with his less flashy style of wrestling, the company has pegged him as a guy to help build up newer talent, letting them learn and collect wins. Jean doesn’t mind this, but he is looking for ways to increase his earnings; he knows that he will have to retire eventually and is trying to make sure he earns enough to keep his family financially stable for as long as possible.
Off camera Jean is relaxed and doesn’t feel the need get involved in drama. He doesn’t like to go out drinking or enjoy the nightlife, preferring instead to spend his time with a good book. He does not have much clout in backstage politics because he is fairly new to AWE, but is always happy to help out newer wrestlers if they ask for advice. He knows that there are many good people in the industry, but he is always put off by stories of some the shadier business that goes on.
|Other |
» Unlike his character, Jean is a devout Roman Catholic
» Face Claim is Jack Johnson |
49,084 | 1,324 | 57 | 1,117 | 49 | Hot on of the heels of an ever-arrogant Barbie Summers, Zachary Wake grabbed a mic, then waited eagerly in the gorilla position for his match. Wake quite liked the woman’s work, but her arrogance was nothing compared to what was about to come. Zack looked over to see Roger from sound give him a smile with his unkempt goatee, then pressed a button on his computer, signifying the beginning of Zachary’s theme. Zack smiled back and nodded at the man, then walked out onto the stage. Even beyond the loudness of Zack’s epic theme, the boos were phenomenal. After all, who could forget what Zack did to Winters just two weeks ago? Not only had Caiden just lost the most intense match of his night the previous night for the AWE championship, but Wake stole away his second opportunity the very next day with a low blow.
Wake’s music died down as he stood in the middle of the ramp, and he let the boos continue for a few more seconds before holding the microphone up to his lips. As he opened his mouth to speak, the boos grew louder, and Wake had to stifle a laugh at the reaction he got.
God it was fun to be hated.
“As many of you know, two weeks ago I laid out Caiden Winters in the middle of the ring, killing his opportunity at the gold he so obviously works hard for. Now, I understand that you’re upset he lost, what smark doesn't? But the part that I don’t quite understand is that you BOO ME for it. In case all of you have forgotten, I am a tag team champion, and intercontinental champion, and I’ve worked in this business for TEN GODDAMN YEARS. If anyone in this tournament deserves to be here IT’S ME.” Zack walked down the ramp and up the steel steps, then continued. “Caiden Winters was a joke, and tonight, I’ll prove that Thunderbird is no different. After all, if you recall, last week he defeated Sexton with a roll-up pin.” Zachary laughed as he stepped into the ring. “A roll-up, huh? That is quite possibly the cheapest way to pick up a victory. I have no respect for cowards like him.”
The flurry of boos resumed here with a chant of “YOU’RE A CHEATER!” clap clap clapclapclap started up.
The Native American drums started up and A Tribe Called Red’s music came blaring over the speakers throughout the stadium. The fans in the arena were on their feet cheering for the masked hero of the masses. Thunderbird’s last opponent didn’t see the roll up coming, and after locking eyes with Sexton backstage before stepping out, he knew he’d gained an enemy for life. He just did the job he was told. Jon couldn’t help what the writers decide. He stepped out of the curtain and entered down the ramp leading to the ring.
The fans went nuts. Truth be told Redcrow was a bit nervous. This guy he was facing had twice the experience and was a little bigger. And a damn good heel. However, he looked across the crowd and knew he wasn’t there for the win, he was there for the people. The kid near the front in the Thunderbird mask. The old man in the head dress. Other fans reached out to touch their hero from the sides of the entry ramp and Thunderbird reached out to slap as many hands he could. The kid in the mask up front? Thunderbird got down and shook the kid’s hand and pulled him close for a selfie the child’s mother was taking. The Native didn’t care if he took a beating tonight, he knew that kid would remember this night for the rest of his life. Before Wake could open his mouth again Thunderbird slid into the ring quickly and his opponent dove through the ropes. Then the war dance started from the four sides of the ring ending in the wrestler standing on the second turnbuckle and beating his chest before removing the large head dress. As he did so he felt a double axe handle on his back, being hit from behind, and the ref signaled for the bell.
Wake wasted no time in gaining the upper hand in this fight. He knew Jon loved his flippy shit, and the first opportunity to do said flippy shit, he would take. Now, with Thunderbird hunched over on the top rope, Zack pointed and laughed. The crowd booed in response. Then, in an attempt to finish the match before it really started, Zack placed his head in between Thunderbird’s legs, setting up the electric chair. Jon managed to use the ropes to keep from getting lifted and in luchador-like fashion he threw the heel out of the ring through the ropes with a head-scissor. As his opponent went to the outside of the ring, Thunderbird stepped back on the top rope and after screaming a battle cry threw himself like a corkscrew at his adversary, who scrambled to his feet only to see a body flying in his general direction. Goddamn lucha-bullshit.
Zack held his hands up to catch his adversary, yet still put on a scared expression to make it appear as if he were cowering in fear. The duo tumbled to the ground, and the crowd popped at the intense move right out of the gate. Without hesitation, Thunderbird sprung up from the ground, seemingly unhurt by the move, and picked up Zack, slamming his head into the barricade a few times for good measure before leading him back to the ring. Zack rolled in and stood up on his knees, dazed as Thunderbird climbed back into the ring.
The face stared down at his opponent, then reached to pick him up, being stopped as his legs were pulled away from underneath him, and hitting the mat hard. Not to be caught off guard Thunderbird kicked up at the heel who was still low to the ground and connected to the side of his face before springing up from his back like martial artists often do. The crowd lit up and using their momentum Jon ran and hit the ropes coming back at Wake with a knee strike to the head. He grabbed him up from the ground and sent him into a totem pole suplex. If the crowd could see under the sky blue mask they’d see that smile that gets Jon Redcrow in everyone’s good graces. It was a completely different atmosphere than the Japanese circuit he’d began in. He picked Wake up again and whipped him to the ropes. Thunderbird went for a clothesline, and the heel ducked and came off the ropes with with an explosive clothesline, turning the tide of the battle.
Zachary looked down at Jon and laughed, before getting down in one knee, grabbing a handful of hair, and lifting it up before bashing The Native’s head back down with a fist directly to the nose. Wake repeated twice more before the referee forced Wake’s hand off of Thunderbird’s hair. As Wake stood up once more, then stomped a black boot onto Thunderbird’s face. Methodically, Zack paced around Thunderbird in a circle, stomping on several more limbs, before once more yanking The Native to his feet by his hair.
Wake then kicked Redcrow in the gut, and lifted him up into a stalling suplex, leaving him in the air for a good seven or so seconds before letting his opponent crash down onto the ground. Quickly after getting up, Zack grabbed both of Thunderbird’s legs and folded him overlocking in a vicious Liontamer. Jon’s back was arched such that his face was being smooshed against the ground, and his legs were up above . No cresent expect the moon could rival it, and even then the liontamer would put up a pretty damn good fight. Thunderbird struggled on the floor arms flailing to touch anything. Hit Wake, grab a rope, it didn’t matter, ‘cause it HURT. Zachary only continued to apply pressure, arching The Native’s back further and further.
Even if this was a work, the pain was sure as hell real for Jon. Nevertheless, the hold continued. Zachary looked down, then quietly said. “I’ll lift up, curl up and get out of the hold.” And though Jon was too busy practically being tortured, he heard the message. Zack then looked up, and shouted into the crowd. “YOU DON’T DESERVE THIS!” Whether he was talking to the crowd or Thunderbird, it didn’t matter, because as he did, Zack took some of the pressure off of the liontamer, allowing Jon to push up with his hand and duck his head underneath himself, then launched up into the air, grabbed Zachary’s shoulders, and leant backwards, flipping Zack over the top of him. Zack took the monkey flip well, soaring through the air, then crashing into the mat with a flat back.
Redcrow took the opportunity to climb back to his feet, using the ropes as to assist himself. As he got up, now leaning against the ropes, Zack ran full blast at him, attempting to connect a clothesline. Thunderbird, however, had a different idea. He ducked down and pushed up on Wake’s chest launching him over the top rope, with Wake landing on the apron. As Zack was flying overhead, Jon said to him: “Springboard dropkick.” Zack grabbed with both hands onto the rope, preventing himself from falling onto the hard ground below. He acted groggy, and to an extent, he was. Rassilin’ really takes it outta you. Thunderbird looked at Wake, looked at the turnbuckle, then quickly looked at the crowd, who cheered in anticipation. Thunderbird ran at the ropes perpendicular to the ones Zack was at, jumped on them, then leapt off towards Wake feet first, crashing into him with a vicious dropkick.
Zack took the kick and, with both its force and a little jump from him, he flew backwards, crashing back first into the announcer’s table. Zack dropped to his knees in pain and grasped him back, then made a show to hobble pain to the ring and roll in ever so slowly. Thunderbird wasted no time getting back in the attack, stomping on Zack once before stepping out onto the apron and up onto the top turnbuckle. The crowd started to stand up, take out phones, cheer, chant, and wait in anticipation for Wake to stumble to his feet. Wake obliged, doing the old “turn around slowly while dazed” action, then ate a big dropkick as The Bird soared through the sky. Zack fell onto his back, then rolled further backwards so he flipped around onto his stomach, in the centre of the ring. Jon got up onto his knees and pounced onto Wake, before grabbing Wake’s arm, trapping it in between his legs, and tugging on Wake’s chin, locking in a disgustingly beautiful Crossface. Wake waved his free hand around in desperation, holding close to the ground to make it appear as if it were going to tap, before going back to waving it around.
Even though the babyface had his finisher locked in in the centre of the ring, boos started coming from all directions. Thunderbird looked around, confused, only to see the Sexellence of Sexecution come running down the entrance ramp, equipped with a chair and all. The referee approached the Lovely One, who had jumped up onto the apron, trying to get the ref to let him get into the ring. The ref only responded by pointing at the locker rooms and shouting at Sexton’s face to leave.
This was it. Zack’s opportunity. Granted, they had all planned out the spot beforehand, but it still felt like it was an opportunity Wake would have taken in real life. “You gotta seize opportunity by the balls and never let go.” At least, that was how Zachary was always taught it.
Thunderbird released his hold on Wake and began to walk over to Sexton Love, but was stopped in his tracks as he, just like Caiden Winters two weeks before, got smashed in the groin with a cheating fist. He lurched over onto his hands and knees, then collapsed onto the ground. Zachary only smiled at Sexton as the Lovely One dropped off the apron and told the ref to get back to work. Zack pounced onto Thunderbird and hooked one leg, staring and nodding at Sexton with a grimace as the ref got down to pin.
“One…” The ref started counting. The crowd got up on their feet, aggravated by what was going down. Sexton laughed and bowed towards the ring as he backed away up the ramp.
“Two…” Boos flooded the arena.
“Th-” The ref was cut off. The boos were cut off and Sexton was stopped in his tracks as Redcrow’s hand flew up into the air, his shoulder getting off the mat. Cheer upon cheer, chant upon chant rose in number and volume, and Zachary Wake could only sit up in disbelief and look down at his opponent, the man who just kicked out of a low blow.
Sexton walked back over to ringside, astonished by what happened. Zack slowly stood up, turning to the referee. “Are you freaking kidding me?! Did you not see that? Are you blind or something? That was three, shoulders down, end of story!” Zack slapped his hands together three times, making sure to get all up in the referee’s face as he yelled and complained.
“Give me a break, Wake. You’re luckily I didn’t see what happened while I was arguing with Sexton or you might not have been allowed that pin at all.” Thunderbird slowly started to rise to his feet, using the ropes to assist himself.
“EXCUSE ME? Did you just accuse me of cheating?! Some official you are, ya crapshoot!” Jon quickly exploded out of the corner he was in, curling an arm in between Wake’s legs and pulling him backwards into a rollup.
The referee jumped down and quickly counted to two, but Wake stuck a shoulder up and rolled backwards out of the pin before that final number could be said. Immediately, the two wrestlers stood up, and locked up in the centre of the ring. Both knew that if they gave up now, there would be no more AWE Championship for them. Their dream was as good as gone.
Thunderbird overpowered Wake and began to push him to the ground. At first, the heel resisted, but quickly stopped and dropped to one knee. He then took one hand and hooked it under Redcrow’s left leg and yanked, pulling the hero to the ground. Thunderbird was quick to respond, getting onto his knees and striking with a blunt, brute of a forearm, sending Wake reeling. The crowd cheered as the bird boy stood up, marching forward with a series of sickening strikes. Punches, chops, knees, you name it. It was comeback time baby. A palm strike knocked Wake onto the ropes and Redcrow pressed him backwards then pulled an arm, sending Wake to the ropes on the opposite side of the ring.
As Zack ran the ropes, he looked down at ringside where Sexton Love was chatting up a lovely looking lady. The Lovely One exchanged a nod with his heel friend, and it was decided. Time to finish this thing off. Wake ate Thunderbird’s clothesline and hit the ground hard, and crawled over to a corner, but more specifically a corner where the referee stood, making sure everything was going down smoothly. Heh. Sexton caught the ref’s attention with some snarky, probably sexist remark, and Zach positioned himself in front of the referee, standing weakly on his feet.
Redcrow let out a yell, getting the crowd riled up, and ran full throttle at Wake. He leapt up into the air and tucked up his legs, then shot them out like bullets from the gun that was his body. A beautiful dropkick that would have lead to a sweet, sweet victory - if it weren’t for Zack dropping down and ducking out of the way. Those beautiful feet crashed into the referee, and pushed the poor guy back. The ref’s head bounced off the turnbuckle, and true to form, was out cold. Thunderbird stood there, shocked at what had just transpired. Zack crawled over to an adjacent corner, grinning at Thunderbird. He’d gotten away with this filthy way of battle. Again.
Redcrow was done with this shit, and his expression showed it. Zack’s smile slowly turned to a look of fear as the birdboy marched over to him. Luckily for Wake, however, a third wrestler entered the ring. Boos ensued as the crowd realised what was about to go down. “Boy, you better learn to watch your behind!” Sexton Love proceeded to thrust at the air as he waited for the One They Call Bird to turn and face him. And as soon as the bird did, he head met a new best friend - a chair. Sexton made sure the strike was a big wallop straight down the middle. Jon’s head nearly retreated into his spine.
Thunderbird staggered backwards, almost collapsing to the ground, but being caught by a head in between his legs. Zachary Wake lifted up, raising a limp, barely conscious Jon Redcrow up into the air on his shoulders. Sexton laughed at the sight, and simply said: “Drop him.” Zack pushed up and sent Thunderbird forwards, executing a picture perfect Electric Chair Facebuster. Sexton slid out of the ring, and Zachary Wake covered Thunderbird just as the referee regained consciousness. A simple one, two and three, and the match was over. Wake’s music hit once more, and he stood valiantly over his opponent. Zack looked over at the Sexellence of Sexecution, nodded respectfully at him, and left. Once more, dirty tactics secured Zachary Wake a victory. | Zachary Wake
"Anyone who is too nice cannot be trusted. I'll leave them writhing in my wake!"
6'3" - 264lbs | 10 Years of Experience
|Birth Name|
» Zachary Hanson
|Hails From|
» Melbourne, Australia
» April 25, 1988 (29)
|Fighting Style|
» Zachary is rather simple in fighting, as his character focuses more on his natural charisma and way with words. Think Bobby Roode. He uses all the easily identifiable moves, sans high-flying and acrobatic styles. He likes to trash talk while in submissions/rest holds, and enjoys playing with the crowd's emotions, sometimes letting the face seem like they're going to get off a big move and then striking with a low blow when the ref isn't looking. He doesn't mind playing dirty, as it is just a means to an end, the end being the AWE Championship.
|Signature Moves|
» Eye Gouge
» Rope Hung Forearms but with his opponent one the other side of the barricade so the crowd can watch up-close.
» Liontamer
» Stalled Suplex
|Finisher|
» Sitout Electric Chair Facebuster
» Electric Chair off of the Top Rope (For the big matches)
|Theme|
» Is this epic enough?
|Gimmick|
» Zachary's gimmick is that he is the dirty heel that the fans love to hate. His promo work after 10 years of experience leads to him being able to play with the crowd and improv when they start chanting something. He purposely riles them up by beginning every promo acting as a face would, then insulting his rival at the time, which easily gives him some heat.
|Face or Heel|
» Natural Heel
|Backstage Rep|
» Zack is a well-respected and valuable member of the backstage crew, not just because of his in-ring work, but from the years of respect he's gained helping out the back. Each night he gets in early, leaves late and makes sure everyone does their bit in helping the show run smoothly. Whenever he's got spare time he sits down with creative to see where they think his character should be headed, and always tries to help them decide on the best choice for Wake.
As such, Zack understands and is confident in the booking decisions in relation to his character, whether it be win, lose or draw. He's fine with helping the young ones get over, since he has been there, and will do everything in his power to help them succeed. Zachary cares deeply about the business, and it shows.
|Other|
» In his time Zachary has had many shots at the big one, the AWE Championship, but has always come up short in the big matches. The closest he got to officially owning the belt was when he knocked out the referee, allowing him to strike his then-rival Drayden down with weapons. However, the decision was reversed, causing quite the stir-up and made his and Drayden's rivalry all the better.
» Zachary is a former three-time AWE Intercontinental Champion, and all three of those runs were quite meaningful, helping Zachary ascend to the upper-midcard rather quickly. The last of these runs ended around 9 months ago, but all of them lasted over 3 months. Since then, Zachary has taken a bit more of a back seat, returning to the midcard, but still making (failed) attempts at championships every now and again. When he isn't being used in storylines or championship matches, Zachary is the perfect guy for a 3-Way/4-Way #1 Contender Match (Think of Sami Zayn/Baron Corbin, in this respect).
» Zachary also had an short stint as AWE Tag Team Champion in a time when the tag division was particularly weak, teaming with a rather eccentric fellow named Senji Veryhurt, a stereotypical strong style Japanese wrestler.
» Face Claim: Ryan Botha
» ff0000
Owen Sparks
"I'm the spark of light in the darkness. The AWE title is as good as mine!"
5'9" - 178lbs | 1 Year of Experience
|Birth Name|
» Ian Owen Hamilton
|Hails From|
» Cincinnati, Ohio
» September 14th, 1998 (19)
|Fighting Style|
» Since he really has only just begun, Owen hasn't developed a broad moveset, but is leaning towards a risk-taking grappler/high flier, with little time for technical/brawling styles. Owen isn't what one would call a polished or magnificent wrestler, but he shows promise in the moves he can do well. Before entering his angle with Zachary Wake, Owen was very much a "Five Moves of Doom" type wrestler, and since the story has started, Wake has been helping Owen to expand his moves.
|Signature Moves|
» Flying Cross Body
» Step-Up Enziguri (Usually as the opponent is standing on a turnbuckle)
» Bridging German Suplex (To pin)
» Still growing, so a fourth move will come eventually.
|Finisher|
» Shocker (Monkey Flip into Crossface)
» Sparkling Brilliance (Swinging Backbreaker into Standing Backsault)
|Theme|
» Mmm, Electric Guitars
|Gimmick|
» Owen is the happy-go-lucky new babyface, both in-character and out, really. He is excited to be wrestling in any promotion, and shows great promise. He adds a new move to his arsenal every match, and is meant to portray a growing and changing wrestler-in-training. However, though he is a face, Sparks has recently become the apprentice to Zachary Wake, a heel who doesn't mind cheating to win. And it seems like Owen may soon adopt his teacher's philosophy in an attempt to stop his shaky win:loss ratio.
He's still developing his skills on the mic, but like all young wrestlers, he has some semblance of a natural charisma that is being pushed to be honed through promos either just before or after his matches.
|Face or Heel|
» Babyface
|Backstage Rep|
» Since he is relatively new to AWE Ian hasn't build himself a reputation quite yet. As such, only a few wrestlers really know Ian, and can put up with his slightly cocky attitude. He knows he isn't the best as that is just ignorant, but knows that he was picked up by AWE after only 1 year in the business meaning that the scouters either overestimated his talents, or they know that he has a lot of room to grow. Ian likes to believe it's the latter.
Regardless of wrestling talent, Ian is loyal to his close buddies, and is constantly trying to improve himself - both physically and mentally - through the help of those friends. He recognizes that there is a lot to be improved about himself, but can't pinpoint those problems by himself. As such, he often finds himself being arrogant to others, and potentially racist at times if he isn't careful.
Despite these flaws, there's a reason Ian nails the happy-go-lucky gimmick: It still comes to him naturally.
|Other|
» Owen Sparks is currently participating in an angle/feud with Zachary Wake in an attempt to help get Owen over with the crowd, by having Owen have a moral conflict between doing what's right, and doing what needs to be done for him to win. Zachary is trying to persuade Owen to cheat so he can get his wins up.
» Nickname(s): The Spark of Brilliance
» Face Claim: George Blagden
» DAA520 |
49,085 | 1,324 | 58 | 2,180 | 2,019 | Collab with
MATCH 2:
It was time for another match, one that would see the end of Savaka's run in the tournament. It wasn't going to be a huge spectacle, because they had to save something for the rest of the feud. Still, he wanted to make the fans feel like they saw a match that made sense, one that didn't waste their time and made them hungry for more. A couple of stretchs and some pacing while the backstage crew counted down, then he snuck out on the ramp while the thick clouds from the fog machine hung in the air. As his music hit and the fog cleared, Savaka stood up from his kneeling posture and walked to the ring, carrying the Intercontinental title belt on his shoulder.
He held the belt out, not raising it high because that would seem like a bragging gesture not appropriate for a detached monk, but doing something to draw attention to it before he place it on the ring apron next to one of the turnbuckles. He climbed under the ring ropes and then clasped his hands together as he stood and waited for his opponent to enter
Speaking of bragging, the lights dimmed, and the music of Savaka's opponent started, building towards a crescendo until the speakers blared the words 'I AM THE ONE AND ONLY!', emphacised by fireworks, as, with his fist raised, emerged Oscar O'Sullivan, and with his head held high, a cocky grin on his face, and swagger in his step, he made his way down to the ring, basking in the boos he recieved as he did so. He slid into the ring, and faced Savaka, still grinning and posturing, as if he did not take Savaka seriously as an opponent.
The bell rang to start the match, and Savaka circled around Oscar, keeping his eyes on him and his face emotionless. He held out his arms and got closer, ready to lock up and start wrestling. Oscar responded by backing away, and laughing at the crowd as he did so as the hissed at his supposed 'cowardice'. Oh yeah, refusing to lock up with such an amazing grappler as Savaka was 'cowardice'. No, it was wrestling smart.
Once Oscar was close to the ropes, he turned, leapt straight onto the second rope, and then propelled himself towards Savaka, turning in midair and hitting him square with a dropkick. No, Oscar wasn't going to fight Savaka at his own game. He was going to fight with his own high-flying style.
Savaka took the hit from the drop kick and tumbled backwards, land on the mat. He rolled to his knees and stood himself up, but kept his stance low to the ground, inching closer to Oscar. One in range, he doves for his leg with an arm outstretched, trying to get a hold of it. Oscar slipped his leg out of Savaka's reach, and with the same leg, delivered a still looking knee to Savaka's midsection, before cicling the monk, occasionally zipping in, hitting him with a quick but inneffectual jab, and zipping out. He was clearly trying to aggrivate rather than hurt.
The strikes stung him, not enough to sell with full bump but he slowed his pace to show their effects. He got hold of one wrist and then reached for Oscar's head, pulling it down and getting him into the classic side headlock takeover.
Oscar struggled in the headlock, trying to escape, but it wasn't going to be that easy this time for him to be slippery in the monk's iron grip. Instead, he got Savaka in his own headlock, though it was so weak and loose that it was completely inneffectual. That's because he wasn't trying to apply a hold. In a fluid motion, Oscar kicked Savaka's legs from under him, tighted the headlock, and delivered a DDT. Wasting no time, he juped up to the nearest second rope, and sprang off into a Second Rope Moonsault, following that up with a cover attempt, though he didn't even get to 2 before Savaka kicked out.
After the moonsault he rolled back and forth to sell the impact, but turned one of those rolls into a smooth transition to standing up. Oscar wound up and threw a punch as soon as he was standing, but Savaka deflected with an open hand then grabbed the wrist. He twisted it into a wristlock, and Oscar rolled forward in attempt to break it. Savaka held it tight even as Oscar bridged himself off the mat to create space, and Oscar's flipping jump back to standing looked spectactular but failed to break the hold.
They were close to the ropes, and Oscar saw his next move. He jumped onto the bottom rope with both feet and sprang into the air, hoping to gain height and escape. Savaka turned his back while Oscar was in mid air and pulled the arm tight, making Oscar's leap into the setup for an impressive over-the-shoulder shoulder throw and sending Oscar straight to the mat. Looming over Oscar, he clasped his hand together around the side of Oscar's head and wove a leg over Oscar's as he returned to standing, locking in the classic abdominal stretch. It was once of the oldest holds in the whole business but it looked good and had many usese, such as giving both wrestlers a breather and some time to build tension. The drama of the hold played out as the audience's chants began to build.
Oscar sqirmed and gritted his teeth in the abdominal stretch until he was sure that the crowd had cooled down, then hooked his hand under Savaka's leg and tried to lift him into a fireman's carry, but Savaka let go before that could happen. Free, and with his back to the monk, Oscar then leapt back and hit Savaka square in the head with a pelé kick, stunning and staggering him.
The high flier then rebouded off the ropes and hit Savaka with a running european uppercut. Without stopping, he rebounded off the opposite ropes and hit Savaka with a second one. Now that he was sure his opponent was dazed, Oscar climbed the turnbuckle, and hit Savaka with a 450° splash, knocking both men to the floor. Oscar was up slightly faster than Savaka, and took advantage of this by flipping forwards, catching Savaka's neck with his legs, and delivering a Frankensteiner to the monk, before grabbing both of his legs and attempting a pin. 1...2...kickout at 2. Oscar got back to his feet and shook his head, disbelieving that this match couldn't be that easy a win. With his back to Savake, he didn't notice his foe recovering.
With both wrestlers standing, Savaka went for a collar and elbow tie-up then got Oscar into a headlock. He tightened, trying to get that across to the audience, then lifted him up for a snap suplex. It didn't have the full height of a pure vertical suplex, but it was quick move, and the perfect set up for the guillotine choke spot. After landing Savaka kept hold and Oscar sold it, mugging for the hard camera pointed at both wrestlers on their backs.
He worked the hold and moved himself into a sitting position, holding the headlock and putting his weight on Oscar. The referee started to count a pin for a moment but Oscar got a shoulder up, and Savaka caught one of Oscar's arms with his legs. Oscars landed some stiff chops to the back of the head with his free hand, loosening the grip enough to get his other arm out. After pushing Savaka's head with both hand to create space, Oscar got to his knees and pounced on Savaka's back.
Oscar held on and launched a flurry of activity, getting Savaka in a hammerlock and then augmenting it with a choke around the neck. He held them tight and Savaka couldn't break free, but when he began to shift position and try to bring his leg into it Savaka found an opportunity. He grabbed the leg and slipped the hammerlock, then got enough space to apply a leglock, clinging onto to it as Oscar crawled away. With Oscar's foot tucked under his armpit and his hands clasped in a praying position, he closed his eyes to play up his gimmick. When Oscar made it to the rope to break the hold, he made a show of not noticing, and the referee had to tap him on the shoulder to signal to release the hold.
While the referee was busy trying to get Savaka to reliquish the hold, Oscar looked around, and saw, in his reach, the Intercontinental Title belt, still perched on the same turnbuckle that Savaka had left it. Oscar grabbed the strap, and pulled the belt towards him, hiding it under his body.
Savaka had finally let go of Oscar's ankle, and was now advancing towards Oscar, ready to continue his offense. Unfortunately, he was walking on Oscar's left side, and the ref was on his right, so the ref didn't noticed that when Svaka bent down to pick oscar up, Oscar suddenly reared up and smacked the monk square in the face with the metal play of the title belt, and then conspiculously deposited it from the ring.
The blow knocked Savaka out cold, and the moment he landed on his back, Oscar capitalized and covered the prone technician. !...2...3! Oscar had won, and would be advancing to the semifinals! The crowd booed at this cheating scoundrel, and he just smiled and took it all in. But he wasn't done yet. Oscar slid out of the ring, picked up the IC title and was given a mic from an official.
"This belt...Some of you in the audience might be a little angry with me after how I treated it. And I understand. i'd feel just as angry about this prestigious title being used in so crude a manner....if this was a year ago! The truth is that Savaka has turned this title into a piece of trash. And Oscar O'Sullivan doesn't want trash! I'm aiming for the championship title that's worthy of me! I want the One! And! Only! A! W! E! World! Heavyweight! Chamipinship!"
And on that bombshell, Oscar dropped the mic, dropped the IC title and headed back up the ramp to the sound of nothing but boos and hisses, but he stopped at the ramp entrance, and with his back to the audience, raised his fist in the air. Only then, did he leave. | is no monster under your bed, because I'm right here.
6”8 – 130kg| Eight Years Of Experience
|Birth Name |
»Andrew Gosforth
|Hails From |
»Paisley, Scotland
»April 7th, 1986 (31)
|Fighting Style |
» Hector is a large man, and as such has a large arsenal of power moves, but what sets him apart from other powerhouses is his in-ring psychology, mindgames and theatrics. In his gimmick’s newest incarnation, will sometimes hurt himself just to unnerve his opponent, as well as relish in the pain of his opponent instead of fighting to win quickly. A Hector match can be an uncomfortable watch, and sometimes won’t even feel PG even though it breaks no rules.
|Signature Moves |
» Daddy’s Awake (Spear/Double Leg Takedown hybrid with theatrics)
» Nightmare Drop
» Chokeslam Backbreaker
» Lifting Spinebuster
|Finisher |
» Straightjacket Neckbreaker
» Dreamcatcher
|Theme |
» Old Theme:
» New Theme:
|Backstage Rep |
»’Hector’ had enjoyed success as a big guy with the gimmick of an insane slasher villain, though this translated to cheesy effects, mind games and blackout attacks every other week. He was never a world champion though he did briefly hold the IC belt, and had an upper-card feud with Drayden during one of the rare instances when he wasn’t champion or challenging for the championship. This all came to an end over a year ago when Andrew had to go through a messy divorce, and took time off to return to Scotland and deal with that. He was written off TV by being set of fire from one of the chemicals of Dr. Sinister off the back of a feud with The creation, and then he was gone.
Several months ago, he came back for training, and to people’s surprise, it’s as if he was never gone. She’s the same old chatty, friendly big scot who enjoys a drink, and he had very little ring rust. He fell back into place in the AWE machine and is now ready to return to the ring, though his debut is still being held off until after the tournament. Personally, Andrew isn’t sure his character still fits in with an industry that’s gearing towards a more realistic, MMA style populated by small, fast guys with realistic names and characters, or maybe that just means he’s needed more than ever.
|Gimmick |
» Hector’s new gimmick is far more genuinely scary and intense than his old one. He is now a deranged psychopath, and even though there are still blackout attacks and lighting effects, Hector is framed less of a supernatural monster than he was in his previous run and far more of an ordinary albeit twisted and deranged human, and therefore all the more unsettling for it, as he seems real now. He will wear creepy masks, give nonsensical promos that make the interviewer uncomfortable, stalk his feuding opponents backstage in skits and during their promos, ect. His mindgames are a thing of beauty now. Rather than before, where every opponent would get the same thing (dolls, abandoned asylums, little girls), now each feud’s mindgames are tailored towards the fears and insecurities of his opponents and a big deal will be made of him getting inside their heads.
|Face or Heel |
» Indiscriminate Heel
|Other |
» Face Claim – Rory McCann |
49,086 | 1,324 | 59 | 2,173 | 2,273 | Collab with: feat.
As she waited backstage, being counted down for her entrance, Dawn was a lot less nervous than last week, even though this week was a championship match. The simple fact was she hadn’t had to do any talking on the mic this week, and won’t have to for the rest of this feud, meaning she could work on her mic skills in private until next month, where she’ll have to take to the stage more.
10...9...8..
Dawn put her cap on. This time, she wasn’t wearing camo, but a black tank top and black shorts, along with grey boots. Her cap, though military style, was also black, and had several pins in it. The overall look was very punky. She wasn’t “That G.I. Jane nobody” this week. She was an ass-kicking legitimate contender.
Her music started, and Sydney Ellis marched down the ramp to, there was no mistaking it, cheers. Was this what being a face felt like? It was amazing. Dawn would have to see about her chances for a turn somewhere down the line! But for now, she was Sydney Ellis. She did not smile as she carried on marching. She stopped on the ramp. There was a plant holding up a sign supporting Barbie. Sydney snatched it from the plant’s hands and carried it into the ring, whereupon she faced the hard camera and made a show of ripping it to shreds to a true face pop, then motioning around her waist. ‘I’m going to be the champion’, she was boldly claiming.
Watching from the gorilla position, Barbie sized up her soon-to-be opponent. She made note of the change in Sydney’s outfit style, foregoing the usual camo in favor blacks and grays. It was almost comical, how the top card wrestlers in AWE women's division seemed to be dividing into cliché high school stereotypes: the prep, the goth, the punk… what’s next? When Sydney ripped up the faux fan poster, Barbie let herself feel the anger at the action to pump her up.
The championship belt that was currently fastened around her waist was hers, and it would remain hers at the end of the day. It was time to go teach that girl who runs this show. To teach all of them that Barbie Summers is on the top, and she will remain on top. Smirking at the surprise she had in store for everyone, Barbie lined herself up to take her strut down to the ring.
Instead of the hot bubble gum pink get ups that she usually wears, Barbie also changed her look this week, wearing a royal purple two piece ensemble, showcasing her best assets. Glittering gold boots that reach almost up to her knees match the golden crown that is emblazoned across the rear of her purple booty shorts. A lot like Sexton Love, Barbie’s character design is all about ‘sex sells’, albeit in a much more appealing way.
After last week’s callouts and Joy’s interview with Barbie, the audience knew who to expect in the ring next. The rumblings of hisses and boos started to the fill the stadium in preparation for the arrival of their favorite heel to hate. Said rumblings came to a sudden halt when the theme music started playing and, instead of the tinkling bells that fell into heavy metal riffs, soft piano and a melodic voice filled airwaves.
The lyrics spoke volumes, Barbie wouldn’t have to say a single thing to get the message across. What she does, she does best. This was a sassy retort to all of the wrestlers (and fans) that accused her of fucking her way to the top. Maybe she did, maybe she didn’t, whichever it was… Barbie owned it. Knowing that all eyes were on her, including the most important pair of eyes from the other side of a TV screen states away, Miss Summers slowly danced her way down the runway. Dripping sex appeal, she sultrily moved her body to the song as she practically stripped her way to the ring.
Sliding up onto the canvas, Barbie’s smirk returned as she eyed up Sydney. Taking a few steps forward, she squared up to the other woman and looked down her nose at her as if she was nothing more than last week’s trash. Sydney, at first, snarled back, but then nodded, and sported the twitches of an amused grin at this display of taking pride in the fact that she did not get to this spot by fighting. As the girls shared a pre-match staredown, Barbie’s new theme music faded out on one final lyric. This is my show…
The bell rang, and the women locked up, both trying to show their dominance by overpowering the other in this test of strength. Though Sydney was undoubtedly pushing harder, Barbie was standing her ground by keeping low to avoid being pushed over. Sydney, with agility, speed and grace that she hadn’t shown that much, let go, slid behind Barbie and wrapped her arm around the champion’s throat, locking in a Standing Chokehold mere seconds into the match!
A finisher, this early on? It was a bold choice, and one that shocked both the crowd and Barbie. Struggling against the solid muscular arm of her opponent, Barbie gasped and elbowed into Sydney. The powerhouse was relentless, and Barbie knew that the ropes were her only way out of this before she turned blue. Elbowing harder now, Barbie forced her weight back into the other woman, causing them to stumble backwards towards the ropes.
Seizing the opportunity, Barbie darted her right hand out to grip the rope and the ref called it. Quick on her feet, Barbie turned so that she was now standing between Sydney and the referee. On impulse - and out of the ref’s sight - Barbie viciously poked her opponent in the eyes, as payback for the early chokehold. Summers usually fought fair, despite her heel status, but perhaps a new Barbie was on the rise now.
Sydney staggered back, clutching her face, shaking with rage. She shook her head as if to try and shake the sight back, looked right at Barbie, and then charged at her, though there was something off about her charge. Her eyes were still sore. She was literally charging blind.
Barbie felt the full force of Sydney as she slammed her weight into her. The punkish woman grabbed Barbie by the wrist and flicked her towards the ropes. Their bodies fell back towards the canvas together and Barbie hooked her arm under Sydney's knee in a roll-up. Sydney kicked out of the move after a 1-count from the ref.
Once again seizing the moment, Barbie went in for another hold. Another statement to be made. Barbie wrapped both of her own legs around Sydney’s left and let her knees fall to the canvas. Deftly rolling into the maneuver and pretzeling their legs together, Barbie had Sydney in one of her signature submissions - the same one that the punk had tried out on Morgana last week. Loud enough for the ring mics to pick up, Barbie taunted her. “This is my move, sweetie.”
Sydney gritted her teeth and shook her head, writhing around in the hold, before she turned onto her side and looked behind her. She was in reach of the ropes! With a Herculean surge of willpower, she pulled herself, and Barbie, towards the ropes, and resisted Barbie’s attempts to pull back with the sheer strength of her arms. Almost...there...She reached the ropes! Grabbing a tight hold of them and then collapsing as she waited for Barbie to let go, or for the ref to make her let go.
Barbie held onto the hold, wearing Sydney down for as long as she could. It wasn’t until the ref screamed warnings into her ear that Barbie finally released her grip. Sydney pulled away and Barbie stood up, taking a few steps back to calculate her next moves, and waiting for the other wrestler to recover.
Sydney got to her feet shakily. Her legs were not unaffected by that hold. Nevertheless, one rope break each. They were back to square one. Stalemate. Sydney got very close to the champ, staring her down again. Their foreheads were touching, and hate shined in the eyes of both wrestlers, as it dawned on them both that to put the other away would not be as easy a task as first thought.
They lock-up again, and this time, the powerhouse succeeds in pushing the now slightly more worn out champion back towards the turnbuckle. Barbie glared at the other wrestler as she felt the padded turnbuckle press into her back. With a flash of determination in her eyes, the reigning champion kicked at Sydney’s legs, wearing them down even more. Barbie knocked her prone on the floor.
Staring down at Sydney, Barbie took a moment to look up at the crowd. They were loud and thirsty for violence, and Barbie indulged them. The blonde bombshell threw her knees into Sydney’s exposed midsection, Summersaulted forward and then flipped back in a Rewind the Clip. This was another signature move, one which really put her background in gymnastics on center-stage.
Barbie stood above the woman once more. Breathing heavily from the exertion of the match thus far. Even so, the blonde still smiled, drinking in the sight of the damage that she’d inflicted. Circling the prone wrestler, Barbie kicked at her abdomen again, urging her to get up. When Sydney didn’t, Barbie saw the opportunity to end this right here and now, if Sydney truly didn’t have any fight left in her - which she doubted was the case. Barbie fell down into the other wrestler, hooking Sydney's left leg up in the crook of left elbow while Barbie’s right arm was pressed into the side of Sydney’s throat, pinning her in place.
Sydney kicked up out of the pin rather quickly, without there even being enough time for the ref to start a count. Barbie backed off for the moment, stepping aside while Sydney recovered. Ever the showwoman, Barbie approached the referee and snatched a mic from him. Sydney was up on her knees now, panting and catching her breath.
Grabbing a fistfull of the other blonde’s hair, Barbie yanked Syndey’s head up to face her fully as she spoke. “You look good down there on your knees. A simple peasant, bowing before the Queen.” She smiled proudly at the taunt. “Why don’t you just give up already? Your war is over, soldier. Surrender the fight, just like you surrendered your uniform.”
Sydney has clearly heard as much as she could stand, as she immediately knocks the mic out of Barbie’s hands, stands up and grabs her by the hair, then hits a BFT, causing Barbie to stagger back. Sydney then picks up the mic and raises it to her mouth. There was silence as it looked like she was about to reply, but instead she simply threw a punch with the hand holding the mic so that it (appeared to) hit Barbie square in the forehead. Sydney discarded the mic, and lifted the champ over her head in a Gorilla Press, as if she weighed nothing, before throwing her out of the ring, to a large cheer.
She followed her out, sliding under the ropes, and picked the Plastic Princess up off the floor, before throwing stiff punches at her. Barbie returned the favour, throwing punches at Sydney’s head in return, and going so far as to pull the powerhouse’s hair. All the while the ref counted them down. Sydney, still recovering from the blows and the hair-pulling, was in a daze, while Barbie rolled back into the ring as the Ref shouted “Seven!” and proceeded to deal with her pain there. Sydney took a few more moments to recover, then slid under the bottom rope and back into the ring just after the shout of “Nine!”
Both women were breathing heavily and nursing their wounds now. This fight was long, hard, and well-matched. The crowd was alive with energy, cheering the wrestlers on in their brutality. Encouraged by their support, Barbie was the first to get to her feet in the ring. Once Sydney was up as well, Barbie used her stamina and impressive airborne athleticism in the form of a Full Moon. Barbie ran at Sydney, turning at the last second, twisting and throwing her body high into the air and leaving Sydney with face full of ass. Kiss the crown, baby.
Sydney staggered, almost as if she was about to fall onto her back, then regained her footing and swung a devastating looking right hook into Barbie’s perfect face. Sydney refuses to give the champ and inch, and runs to the ropes, rebounding and attempting to run through Barbie with a clothesline.
The reigning queen ducks in time to dodge Sydney’s stiff, waiting arm. Sliding along the canvas, Barbie reversed the move and rebounded off the ropes to clip Sydney’s throat with a clothesline instead. Using the wrestler’s moment of shock to her advantage, Barbie threw her out of the ring to buy herself some recovery time.
Barbie was panting with exhaustion when Sydney slid back into the ring - looking equally as worn out. Sydney was strong, her body was one of the most well-oiled machines in the business - for the women, at least. It was impressive, and Barbie knew that if she wanted to have any hope at ending this soon, she would have to do it by wearing down those toned muscles. Without her strength, Sydney was nothing.
Before Sydney could get to her feet, Barbie slid over to keep her grounded on the canvas. After a few moments of struggling between the women, Barbie caught Sydney in a Pole Dancer. Straddling the shoulder of Sydney’s dominant arm, Barbie pulled back on her wrist, increasing the intensity of the hold.
The placement of the wrestlers wasn’t the most ideal for Barbie’s hold. Center ring was the most effective, and they were currently positioned close to the edge, where Sydney had just climbed up. Sydney squirmed beneath Barbie’s hips and managed to wriggle her way to a ropes.
Frustrated by the rope break, Barbie pulled Sydney further from the edge of the canvas. Being as strong as she was, Barbie couldn’t force Sydney very far, as she was fighting back. Despite how little distance they had made it from the ropes, Barbie went in for another Pole Dancer, this time on Sydney’s non-dominant arm. Even though she managed another rope break, Barbie was proud of the work she’d done in grinding her opponent down.
It was time to finish this, once and for all. Barbie would have Sydney seeing stars, just like she had promised in last week’s interview. Barbie climbed up onto the top ropes, straddled the turnbuckle, and prepared to attempt one of her aerial finishers.
By this time, Sydney had gotten back to her feet, and hyped herself back up with some face-slapping and angry screaming. She looked up at Barbie, beckoning her down with her hand. The message was clear. She was ready for Barbie’s aerial move. She would catch her.
Barbie stared down at the dark-clad wrestler. There was a ferocity in her gaze, a readiness. If she tried to land a Seeing Stars now, she had no doubt that she’d be caught, and would most likely suffer some serious damage in the process. And so, much to the shock of everyone in the crowd, Barbie stepped down for what might be the first time in her AWE history.
The moment Barbie’s feet touched the canvas again. Sydney was waiting with a rolling wheel kick to the champ’s head, knocking her into the corner. Sydney then grabbed the champ, escorted her to the center of the ring, and raised her arm. She was calling for the Jackhammer!
However, while Barbie’s head was locked in Sydney Ellis’ arm, as the soldier did an arm raised taunt, distracted by the moment of finishing the monarch off, a snake slid into the ring, with malevolent spite written all over her face. Too fast for anyone to react, nothing massively showy, but still caused the crowd to go into an uproar, Morgana reminded the audience, her audience, why they loved her. She knew where she came from.
While Sydney was changing Barbie’s position to where the Plastic’s arm was rested around her neck, giving a clear moment where her grip on the doll wasn’t as tight as it could be, the sorceress swiftly gave a 360-degree spin, her pink locks whipping with her turn, and ended it with a sharp strike with her outer elbow straight to Sydney Ellis’ face. This was not her move. Actually, it was her father’s Maw Elbow Smash. The only other time Morgana used this move was when she earned the title. While the soldier fell fast onto her back, the witch glared at Barbie and fiercely screeched, “Well?!” And for the first time in Morgana’s career, the audience witnessed her assisting Barbie. Regardless of the history between them and her intentions, this was a monumental moment.
They had thought they’d seen it all, then suddenly the entire audience gasped in unison at what happened next. In an even more shocking twist, the gothic wrestler extended her hand to the fallen blonde. The cameras panned to Barbie’s face as she acted out the perfect expression of shock and distrust. It was acting, of course, as this stunt was an idea the girls had cooked up together at Joy’s little gathering last week. With Morgana’s helping hand grasped firmly, Barbie brought herself back up to her feet.
The camaraderie was cut short, as they released each other’s hands and Barbie stared down her opponent. Ever the opportunist - as many fans and wrestlers alike often cheekily pointed out - Summers rolled in for a pin on the grounded ex-soldier. The ref slid and fervently slapped the canvas with a thunderous open palm - one, two, THREE! Winning like this burned at Barbara’s inherent pride, the crowd would no doubt eat this up, and she would be once again painted as the wrestler who couldn’t win without someone else’s assistance. For the sake of the story, though, she persevered. A win was a win, and the title would remain hers for a little while longer. As it should.
Sydney came back to her senses. That elbow had knocked her out cold. She looked up to see that Morgana had interfered, Barbie had capitalised and won the match, but most startling to her was that they’d been working together! The downed powerhouse looked up at both of them in shock, first one, then the other. Two of the more powerful heels of the roster united against her. It was almost enough to scare the soldier. Almost. She got to her feet and stared them both down, first Barbie, then Morgana, though not saying a thing. She was simply stunned to silence. | what if I slept my way to the top? I’m on top, aren’t I?”
5’ 9 - 190 lb | 5 Years
|Birth Name |
» Barbara Rose Somerville
|Hails From |
» Baton Rouge, Louisiana
» November 11, 1993 (23)
|Fighting Style |
» Ruthless in the ring, Barbie uses her loud mouth just as much as her strong body to break down her opponents. The bodacious blonde has been using her sharp words to cut up divas since long before she made it big in AWE. Barbie knows that once a mind is broken, the body follows soon after. A strong background in gymnastics and technical wrestling from a young age ensure that Barbie has the strength and skill needed to back up all the shit she talks - both in, and out of the ring - and she certainly talks a lot of it. Unlike the weight that her skinny namesake suggests, Barbie is thick with toned muscle and, despite the extra pounds that she carries, most of her ring time is spent in the air - whether that be jumping off the ropes, doing flips, and hip attacking opponents with one of her most powerful assets. When not exercising her more aerial talents, Barbie is keen on wearing down her foes' limbs through a couple of signature submissions.
|Signature Moves |
» Full Moon
» Rewind the Clip
» Legally Blonde {Pronounced: ‘Leg-uh-lee’ blonde}
» The Pole Dancer
|Finisher |
» Aerial Rear View {ARV}
» Seeing Stars
|Theme |
» “Baby go ahead
I'll be the villain you can blame
I'll be the belle of the brawl
Be the lust in us all
I'm the diva of the damned”
|Gimmick |
» Barbie struts to the ring dressed in practically painted on pink and purple - and often sparkly - outfits. A careful, modelesque stride, paired with a scantily clad wardrobe and a hypersexualized theme song, make Barbie’s entire entrance seem like one long strip tease. She keeps her clothes on, of course, this is a televised sport… but that doesn’t make it any less obscene. The blonde acts like a superstar on a stage, and the only thing bigger than Barbie Summers’ ass, is her ego. A lot of people claim that she slept her way up the ladder and, to a certain extent, she did; the managers, and Barbie herself, dial up the drama on these claims, and make a spectacle of it. Prone to witty retort and petty cat fights in the ring, with a strong skillset to back it up, Barbie truly is a belle of the brawl, and the reigning queen of the divas. Much like her beloved boyfriend, Barbie walks as if the ground she walks upon should be kissed - because it should, she’s the best around!
|Face or Heel |
» She may be a heel, but she is the highest of heels - a dangerous beauty that people love to hate. The crowd often chants insults along the lines of “You-suck-Drayden!”, to which Barbie always has a new, sarcastically flirtatious response. She blows kisses at her haters, and feeds off of their negative energy… there is a fine line between between such polarized emotions, after all.
|Backstage Rep |
» While Barbie Summers, the wrestling diva, is a super bitch, through and through; Barbara Somerville, the woman, has a much softer heart. Not all of her gimmick is an act, it is more like an intense exaggeration of her true personality than a complete falsehood. Raised the only girl of a litter of children, Barbie was doted on and spoiled as a child. She grew up looking to her older brothers for approval; They were huge fans of AWE, and this fandom naturally spread onto her. Despite the low funds available in her trailer park-dwelling, fatherless, bayou upbringing, Barbie was able to join gymnastics as a talent and participated in many beauty pageants - all-the-while keeping her tomboyish love of wrestling. The combination of her blonde-haired, blue eyed beauty, charismatic stage presence, athletic physique, and long time love of the sport made Barbie a perfect fit to become a wrestler when the company passed through New Orleans, scouting talent. Barbie was 18 when the opportunity to join AWE arose, and she risked it all in order seize it.
Barbie started off as a jobber - athletic, but a novice that was often booked to lose matches and build up other stars in the show. Barbie had bigger dreams than that... celebrity-status dreams. It wasn’t until last year - around the time that she started hooking up with Drayden - that Barbie Summers’ name became a household one. She ripped through the ranks until she could hold a crown all her own, beside her king. Talent isn’t totally sexually transmitted, of course. Barbie has actually been good enough to defend her championship title through quite a few major match ups. That being said, she values hard work and ambition above everything, and supports the underdogs in their own fight to the top - she was once in their place, and she crawled from even lower places than many of them. While her inherent pride makes her unwilling to easily give up the title, if it were to go to someone worthy, like Trinity - her biggest ring rival, but good friend backstage - Barbie could manage to accept that defeat.
|Other |
» While becoming the AWE’s women’s wrestling champion has been a dream come true, Barbara’s biggest dream is to make it big in Hollywood and become a true a-lister, as an actress.
» Barbara is a bookworm - she loves reading and is often seen with a book in hand or close by her side backstage. When she is working out, which she does a lot, audio books are much preferred over music. Steamy romance novels are a particularly guilty pleasure of hers, but stories of all varieties fascinate and enthrall!
» Understands and can speak french, more specifically the broken creole language that is spoken around the backwoods just outside Baton Rouge that she grew up in. And, yes, she does speak with a thick Louisiana-brand accent.
» FC: Iskra Lawrence |
49,087 | 1,324 | 60 | 1,117 | 49 | vs
Collab with:
Ian approached the worker’s entrance for the SAP Center, gave identification, and entered inside. He was told to come early and warm up, since he was having his second - and final - tournament match later that night. The boy was quick to get changed and get his body paint done, anticipating the opening match like he had the week before. He began stretching, pulling his arms behind his head and circling them around as he approached the room behind the gorilla position. Ian, now Owen Sparks, read the card.
And he wasn’t opening the show.
He wasn’t lodged awkwardly in the midcard either.
In fact, Owen Sparks wasn’t on until the very bottom of the show - the main event.
“Holy. Shit.” How was this even possible? Owen knew Gethin Rhys was winning, and that they needed to make him look good, but Owen also knew that he was basically a glorified jobber. What did they expect him to do on THE MAIN EVENT?
---
The slow synthwave music begins to pulse out across the arena as the lights fade to black. A dark hue of neon blue and purple begins to creep through and illuminate the darkness as Gethin soon emerges from the Gorilla position. The chorus of boos rang out and fed his determination, the fans distane for his brand of professional violence would only serve to hurt their fan favourite underdog Owen Sparks as the Welsh Dragon prepared to kick his teeth out. Rhys made the slow walk towards the ring, his body chiseled to the point where he may as well be etched out of marble. It wasn’t always like that, he was one 100lbs heavier and certainly rounder. He worked hard to become the perfect specimen he was and he would make sure that all that effort didn’t go to waste. There was a title with his name on it waiting for him.
He climbed into the ring and began to crack his joints, loosening them up for the battle that was to come. Gethin’s worked a heavy strike style, he needed his accuracy to be on point, he needed it to look like it flowed naturally. Being loose and relaxed was the first step to that. The handsome devil allowed his steely eyes to wander ever so slightly to ringside, where he caught the gaze of one Vivienne Ripley, the enticing young ring announcer that would soon litter the walls of prepubescent boys everywhere; he would put on a show for her tonight.
Gethin leaned back into the corner and focused his attention on the entrance ramp where Sparks would soon be heading down. Gethin made it a point to allow Owen the secondary entrance, it would allow the youngster to feel more important, the crowd would focus their attentions to him and help him get over. This would not be Gethin’s usual type of match. So far in his AWE run, he had pretty much been booked solidly like a destroyer but tonight, tonight he asked for 50/50. Gethin was no fool, he saw the potential in Owen to be the next great star and the business of professional wrestling should never be just about one man, it should be about an entire roster. Tonight was about Owen Sparks and getting that kid some momentum.
The dark colors were quickly perished by a bright yellow light on the titantron, and the name “Owen Sparks” in white flashing up on that background. The muffled guitar of Owen’s theme started, and as the song kicked into gear, Owen jumped out from behind the screen, to a pop that was much bigger than he expected. The crowd was into him, and the boy couldn’t be happier.
Was this the choice of someone as important as Roddy Quinn, or had Rhys suggested that this match be the main event? Maybe one of them saw something in Owen. Either way he was damn grateful. Owen nodded his head along to the music as he walked down to the ramp, taking time to approach fans on the sides of the ramp and high-five them or take their complements. Heck, one boy there even had a sign saying “Owen, own them!”. Quite frankly, Ian was shocked his character was getting so much love. He proceeded to walk over to the kid, who was at ringside, and hold up the sign for a few seconds, before handing it back to the kid and ruffling the boy’s hair.
“These guys much really hate Gethin for me to get so much love.” Granted, the cheering wasn’t explosive or anything, just far above what the rookie usually got. Sparks rolled into the ring and faced the hard camera, then stuck a fist up it the air and smiled whilst hopping about happily. He couldn’t wait to get into the action. Owen took his spot in the top left corner of the ring, and Rhys in his bottom right corner.
Gethin took in the atmosphere once more before the referee called for the bell. He took several steps forward as did the young Owen before the two began with a standard collar and elbow tie up. ”Alright kid, let's make you famous” the welshmen muttered into his opponents ear. ”I work stiff but if it's too much just let me know” With that said, Gethin switched gears and fully embraced his character once again. Hooking Sparks left arm, the Cardiff Psycho hyper extended it and rolled beneath the rookie, forcing his arm into a hammerlock. He applied enough pressure to force the bright Spark to the mat where he proceeded with a few stiff slaps to his opponent’s neck: staining it a nice red.
”Reverse” Owen had never done any super rough stuff before - He was always one for high flying and grappling over pure strikes or shoot wrestling. This was one hell of an introduction. Nevertheless, Sparks began to build his way back up to his feet. He knew that Rhys was too heavy for a kid like him to fully lift up, but the moment Sparks had a few centimeters of space below him, he swung him un-hammerlocked side of the body underneath himself and threw Rhys to the floor behind him.
The boy quickly scrambled up to his feet, as did his opponent, then ran at the ropes behind himself and bounced off, launching himself at the Welsh Dragon with a low dropkick, taking one foot out from underneath him and dropping him to one knee. A few more kicks to the chest returned the neck-slapping favour, after which Owen ran backwards to the ropes once more, then jumped at Rhys with another dropkick. Gethin, however, quickly snapped from his dazed position to set-to-kill once more, and grabbed each of Spark’s legs with one hand, then watched as the poor kid’s upper body fell helplessly to the ground. As Owen’s fell, Gethin pounced onto his upper body and went to town on Spark’s face with both fists. Owen could only hold his forearms up to block, but even that wasn’t doing much. “Let me headscissor you.”
After a few more punches Gethin sat up, resting for a few seconds before Sparks brought his legs up, wrapped them around The Brutal Artist’s neck then pulled down, once more taking Rhys down to the mat and getting him off of Owen.
Gethin played the part well, looking shocked at how much offense the rookie was getting in. He was playing sloppy and it was perfect. The crowd were getting behind Owen as planned. The noise they were making was a good indicator, they were rallying to see the underdog beat the villain.
Getting to his feet, Rhys rushed the still kneeling Sparks and smashed his jaw with a very stiff knee to the jaw, sending the kid back to a seated position from where promptly, the killer began to repeatedly kick him in the chest. Red wells and burst blood vessels began to appear on his opponents skin and Gethin was living for it. Taking a beating would only add some roughness to the Sparks character, something it really needed. With a final well placed kick, Gethin pulled the younger wrestler to his feet and tried for a rolling elbow. Swiftly, Owen ducked and threw Gethin out of the ring. The crowd wanted to see him fly, he charged the rear ropes and flew over the top for a suicide dive. Sadly, the Cardiff psycho was waiting and drilled Sparky in the jaw with a laser guided European uppercut to the chin. Like a fly, Sparks was swatted out of the air, collapsing to the ground in a red-skinned, soon to be bruised heap. Gethin looked proud of his attack, being sure to wear a smug grin as he rolled back into the ring.
The referee started counting. Owen remained immobile on the floor until the count of 4, where he slowly began to rise. By the count of 7, the kid was on his hands and knees, yet still not in the ring. The crowd, knowing a countout victory would happen unless they rallied support, started clapping in sync. Somehow, the rookie Sparks was on his feet by the 9 count, and he dashed back into the ring. The underdog part was being played perfectly.
Rhys took no time in getting back on the assault, going for a straight stomp to the face. However, Sparks knew it was his turn to get some real offense in. He rolled further into the ring to avoid the stomp, then got up so he was crouching and and stomped sideways into the back of Gethin’s knee, dropping him down onto it. Owen then said to Rhys: “Springboard Crossbody.” Without wasting a moment, Sparks jumped to his feet and ran to the ropes opposite where he entered the ring, bounced onto them, and sprung off into a big cross-body. Gethin, now on his feet and facing the young boy, held his hands up to catch Sparks. Both collapsed to the ground, and Owen quickly hooked a leg and went for a pin. He held his head close to Gethin’s ear and whispered “That was awesome.”
The Cardiff Psycho kicked out at the beginning of the two count, and both men rose to their feet, face to face once more. In a second, Gethin struck Owen twice in the face before hitting a spin kick to the gut and a leg sweep to take the kid down. Instantly the Welshman was down on the floor grabbed Owen’s arm and snapped his fingers apart. The crowd let out a disgusted groan at his actions. He was done playing now. Pulling Sparks to his feet by his long hair before promptly clashing their heads together with a patented stiff head butt.
Gethin watched the rookie drop to the floor in a heap as blood trickled down his own forehead. He looked to Vivi and then the crowd and a horrifying smile crossed his face as the crowd began to chant.
”You sick fuck! You sick fuck! You sick fuck!”
This match was brutal. It was not for the light-hearted. The casual fans were heavily in support of their underdog Sparks, and the smarks and hardcore fans were heavily behind the better wrestler, Rhys. It was a classic David vs Goliath scenario. Except in this one Goliath was fast. Nevertheless, that would only be one more obstacle Owen Sparks would have to overcome on his way to a victory. It was the main event dammit!
Sparks rose to his feet as the referee checked for blood, but eventually got back up. It wasn’t long before the… ahem… sick fuck got back on the attack, laying punch after chop after elbow on the small boy. Gethin overwhelmed his opponent into the corner, where the ref forced a break up. He forced Rhys out of the corner, and the striker turned away as the ref made his take his few steps back. Ever the opportunist, Sparks realised his opponent’s back had turned and began to scale the turnbuckles behind him until he was sitting on the top one with his feet on the second. The moment Gethin’s body started turning back, Sparks was off like a rocket, leaping into the air in preparation for a dropkick. He struck Rhys head-on and the man went tumbling backwards like he was a movie star selling a stunner. It was time for Spark’s big momentum build, baby.
Owen quickly jumped to his feet, then ran at Rhys, and laid him out with a shining wizard. The crowd got up and started cheering. This was Sparks’ big moment. Two of Owen’s signature moves had just been performed, but next was a deadlift german suplex. This was gonna hurt one of them. Gethin was on his hands and knees, recovering from the big kick. Owen delicately wrapped his arms around Rhys’ abdomen, bent his knees, and began to pull.
For those not in the know, here’s a little tale of the tape:
Sparks: Little boy - Gethin Rhys: Big boy
Owen could feel his back sear in pain as he deadlifted the Welsh Dragon, but now the crowd was thoroughly behind him, clapping along rhythmically to egg the Spark of Brilliance on. Owen lifted as hard as he could, his hands clasped together tight around Rhys’ waist to make sure he couldn’t get out.
One final heave, Owen pulled Gethin over his head and the Cardiff Psycho crashed onto the mat on his neck and upper back, his legs folding over to his head. The crowd popped at the moment of victory, and counted along to the bridging pin.
“One!” The possibility of the underdog coming through was very real.
“Two!” People were up on their feet, ready to experience something extraordinary.
But before a three count could come, the horrible heel, the Welsh Dragon, Gethin Rhys, rolled backwards and over his head, escaping the cover. Many boos were had.
Gethin rolled back against the turn buckle, wrapping his arms around either side of the ropes to steady himself. This was amazing, the crowd were really getting behind the kid, just like they had planned. Now it was time to end it, dash their hopes and dreams. Owen had had the taste of glory now, hopefully it would force him to up his game and help him get to where he needed to be. ”Finish” Gethin mouthed as he shook the cobwebs from his head. Owen approached him in the corner but Rhys quickly slid to the outside to a chorus of boos. Sparks followed him but the crafty veteran was playing possum and proceeded to pull the youngster face first into the steel ring post before rolling him back into the ring.
Climbing up onto the apron, Gethin locked eye with his prey. He hissed through his gumshield which soon turned into a terrifying roar. Charging through the ropes, the young boy killer began blasting Sparks in the chest with a repeated stiff kicks. Every time Owen fell to the mat, Gethin would pull him back up by his hair and kick him again. Each kick was more vicious than the last. Finally relenting, the welshman pulled his opponent to his feet and hooked his head beneath his arm. For a moment he debated whether to use his new finisher but he thought better of it, he would save that for the finals. Lifting Owen off the ground, Gethin let out one final primal howl before jerking his body around and bring Sparks down on his head with his signature twisting brainbuster.
With that exclamation point, Gethin covered the youngster and the ref counted “1. 2. 3!!!”
Getting back to a vertical base, Rhys looked out across the crowd. He stood in the ring, battle worn and bloodied and he grinned that sick grin as his music began to play. Now on to the finals. | Zachary Wake
"Anyone who is too nice cannot be trusted. I'll leave them writhing in my wake!"
6'3" - 264lbs | 10 Years of Experience
|Birth Name|
» Zachary Hanson
|Hails From|
» Melbourne, Australia
» April 25, 1988 (29)
|Fighting Style|
» Zachary is rather simple in fighting, as his character focuses more on his natural charisma and way with words. Think Bobby Roode. He uses all the easily identifiable moves, sans high-flying and acrobatic styles. He likes to trash talk while in submissions/rest holds, and enjoys playing with the crowd's emotions, sometimes letting the face seem like they're going to get off a big move and then striking with a low blow when the ref isn't looking. He doesn't mind playing dirty, as it is just a means to an end, the end being the AWE Championship.
|Signature Moves|
» Eye Gouge
» Rope Hung Forearms but with his opponent one the other side of the barricade so the crowd can watch up-close.
» Liontamer
» Stalled Suplex
|Finisher|
» Sitout Electric Chair Facebuster
» Electric Chair off of the Top Rope (For the big matches)
|Theme|
» Is this epic enough?
|Gimmick|
» Zachary's gimmick is that he is the dirty heel that the fans love to hate. His promo work after 10 years of experience leads to him being able to play with the crowd and improv when they start chanting something. He purposely riles them up by beginning every promo acting as a face would, then insulting his rival at the time, which easily gives him some heat.
|Face or Heel|
» Natural Heel
|Backstage Rep|
» Zack is a well-respected and valuable member of the backstage crew, not just because of his in-ring work, but from the years of respect he's gained helping out the back. Each night he gets in early, leaves late and makes sure everyone does their bit in helping the show run smoothly. Whenever he's got spare time he sits down with creative to see where they think his character should be headed, and always tries to help them decide on the best choice for Wake.
As such, Zack understands and is confident in the booking decisions in relation to his character, whether it be win, lose or draw. He's fine with helping the young ones get over, since he has been there, and will do everything in his power to help them succeed. Zachary cares deeply about the business, and it shows.
|Other|
» In his time Zachary has had many shots at the big one, the AWE Championship, but has always come up short in the big matches. The closest he got to officially owning the belt was when he knocked out the referee, allowing him to strike his then-rival Drayden down with weapons. However, the decision was reversed, causing quite the stir-up and made his and Drayden's rivalry all the better.
» Zachary is a former three-time AWE Intercontinental Champion, and all three of those runs were quite meaningful, helping Zachary ascend to the upper-midcard rather quickly. The last of these runs ended around 9 months ago, but all of them lasted over 3 months. Since then, Zachary has taken a bit more of a back seat, returning to the midcard, but still making (failed) attempts at championships every now and again. When he isn't being used in storylines or championship matches, Zachary is the perfect guy for a 3-Way/4-Way #1 Contender Match (Think of Sami Zayn/Baron Corbin, in this respect).
» Zachary also had an short stint as AWE Tag Team Champion in a time when the tag division was particularly weak, teaming with a rather eccentric fellow named Senji Veryhurt, a stereotypical strong style Japanese wrestler.
» Face Claim: Ryan Botha
» ff0000
Owen Sparks
"I'm the spark of light in the darkness. The AWE title is as good as mine!"
5'9" - 178lbs | 1 Year of Experience
|Birth Name|
» Ian Owen Hamilton
|Hails From|
» Cincinnati, Ohio
» September 14th, 1998 (19)
|Fighting Style|
» Since he really has only just begun, Owen hasn't developed a broad moveset, but is leaning towards a risk-taking grappler/high flier, with little time for technical/brawling styles. Owen isn't what one would call a polished or magnificent wrestler, but he shows promise in the moves he can do well. Before entering his angle with Zachary Wake, Owen was very much a "Five Moves of Doom" type wrestler, and since the story has started, Wake has been helping Owen to expand his moves.
|Signature Moves|
» Flying Cross Body
» Step-Up Enziguri (Usually as the opponent is standing on a turnbuckle)
» Bridging German Suplex (To pin)
» Still growing, so a fourth move will come eventually.
|Finisher|
» Shocker (Monkey Flip into Crossface)
» Sparkling Brilliance (Swinging Backbreaker into Standing Backsault)
|Theme|
» Mmm, Electric Guitars
|Gimmick|
» Owen is the happy-go-lucky new babyface, both in-character and out, really. He is excited to be wrestling in any promotion, and shows great promise. He adds a new move to his arsenal every match, and is meant to portray a growing and changing wrestler-in-training. However, though he is a face, Sparks has recently become the apprentice to Zachary Wake, a heel who doesn't mind cheating to win. And it seems like Owen may soon adopt his teacher's philosophy in an attempt to stop his shaky win:loss ratio.
He's still developing his skills on the mic, but like all young wrestlers, he has some semblance of a natural charisma that is being pushed to be honed through promos either just before or after his matches.
|Face or Heel|
» Babyface
|Backstage Rep|
» Since he is relatively new to AWE Ian hasn't build himself a reputation quite yet. As such, only a few wrestlers really know Ian, and can put up with his slightly cocky attitude. He knows he isn't the best as that is just ignorant, but knows that he was picked up by AWE after only 1 year in the business meaning that the scouters either overestimated his talents, or they know that he has a lot of room to grow. Ian likes to believe it's the latter.
Regardless of wrestling talent, Ian is loyal to his close buddies, and is constantly trying to improve himself - both physically and mentally - through the help of those friends. He recognizes that there is a lot to be improved about himself, but can't pinpoint those problems by himself. As such, he often finds himself being arrogant to others, and potentially racist at times if he isn't careful.
Despite these flaws, there's a reason Ian nails the happy-go-lucky gimmick: It still comes to him naturally.
|Other|
» Owen Sparks is currently participating in an angle/feud with Zachary Wake in an attempt to help get Owen over with the crowd, by having Owen have a moral conflict between doing what's right, and doing what needs to be done for him to win. Zachary is trying to persuade Owen to cheat so he can get his wins up.
» Nickname(s): The Spark of Brilliance
» Face Claim: George Blagden
» DAA520 |
49,088 | 1,324 | 61 | 2,180 | 2,019 | Coup D'etat
collab with
Near the beginning of the show, Mathis had found a solitary place in the arena to watch the show. At first, he was gonna watch everything, but seeing another LC match didn't appeal to him so he decided to rewatch the promos from last week's show. They were really good and Mathis got invested watching them. Last week he hadn't had the time to really pay attention to what was going on other than his match. By the time he got to the Hype Package for Hector a thought came to his mind. He knew that the higher ups were planning on doing a Coup d'etat storyline soon and Hector seemed like almost a perfect fit for it in Mathis' eyes. Thinking it over the tall Frenchman decided that he should at least mention this to the writing team.
Soon he was rushing down the hall while writing on his mini whiteboard, "A revolution is soon to come. What do you think of Hector joining it." Once he got to where the writing team was stationed he noticed Gary first and quickly walked over to his desk. He sat in the closest chair and held the whiteboard out for Gary to see it.
Gary’s desk was in shambles. Sticky notes were everywhere. Several notebooks littered the desk, all sporting unwritten handwriting. Three empty coffee cups were gathered on the lid of an empty pizza box. The chaotic creative space of a writer, in short. The young man in his smart shirt and jeans combination looked up, read the contents of the whiteboard, and then, with an expression of deep thought, started flicking through one of his notebooks.
“That’s an interesting idea. You certainly do need an entourage if you want to avoid you looking like you’re all bark and no bite. The more I think about the idea now that you’ve mentioned it, the more I like it. Hector’s booked against Ax, and then we’ve got him in a short feud with his old rival Chaos Clayton, but after that, all we need to do is keep him looking strong and dominant until….well, I don’t know how much of Hector’s future I should give away. But yeah, after Requiem it’s definitely possible. I’ll have to run it past the others first, as well as let Andrew himself know. Did you have any further thoughts about it yourself?”
Under the mask Mathis was smiling big. If this happened, along with the fact Kidd Neon may be joining soon, his stable would finally make an appearance in AWE. Mathis looked down at his board and wrote something new down. When he was done he presented it to the writer. “What if it started off as a match between us. Then after a time I need a tag partner because something happens to Neon and I reveal the mystery partner as Hector?”
Gary rubbed his chin, the gears turning again. He loved good, well-structured stories. That was his specialty. Kevin was the best booker, J.P. was the mad scientist, and Gary was the storyteller. ”Yes, that would be a nice shock reveal that nobody would be expecting. The match itself might have a few nods that won’t give it away but link it all together in hindsight. The good thing about Hector is that him behaving unusually isn’t unusual. I’ll work on this idea. If you’ve got nothing else to ask or add, it might be a good idea, going to find Andrew himself.”
Mathis nodded his head and sent a thumbs up Gary’s way, as the writer nodded in acknowledgement and went back to pulling his hair out trying to book all the new arrivals the promotion was soon to be getting without overbooking. This was good for Mathis. If even one writer liked the idea then odds of it happening were good. He left the room because he was on a hunt now. It didn’t really take him all that long to find the hulk of a man. When he found him, Mathis quickly wrote on his board, ”What would you think of joining my Coup d’etat stable?” He tapped the big man on the shoulder then presented the board to him.
The large Scot turned, and looked down at Mathis, reading the board. “Aye,” he answered in his loud-yet-friendly voice. “I assume you’ve already got the go ahead from the writers, but that sounds just fine to me! I’ve never been in a stable before, and to tell you the truth, I’ve always wanted to. You’re Mathis, right? The French guy with the mask?”
Mathis gave a thumbs up to the Scotsman. Then he looked around to see if anyone else was in the vicinity. Once sure that no one was around he started speaking, ”Since it’s seems like it’ll be a done deal I guess I’ll break kayfabe a little with you. Gary said he will be working on it. Man, finally speaking to someone besides Roddy is refreshing. No, nerves running up and down my spine. Have you got any questions about being in a stable?”
”Oh, so you can speak English! I wasn’t sure. As for questions, well,” Andrew paused, putting his hands in his pockets and looking up in thought. “How should I change my character to fit your stable? I obviously won’t change him too much, but a few subtle changes to make him suitable for teamwork are needed. What’s your stable’s gimmick and goal?”
”Yeah, most people react like that when they first hear me speak. I just generally don’t speak because I feel it brings familiarity to me. I find it makes people have better reactions to me if they aren’t as familiar with me.” At Andrew’s questions, Mathys started scratching his chin. Those answers are always different depending on the factors that surround the decision and the occurrences that bring about the forming.
”Well, yeah you’re character doesn’t need much changing. Since Hector is basically a monster the best way I can think to slot him in is having it be as if Initiate found a way to control Hector. Whether it be mental control or emotional control depends on how long we want this arc to go. The gimmick is typically is a band of brothers, as in brothers in arms, working together to fight the status quo. They can still have their own fights they handle but will always have the backs of each other. Especially when fighting whatever laws are in place. The goal would be to destroy everything and rebuild it to how we see fit with us at the top effectively creating new laws for someone else to destroy. I really like the cyclical nature of it. All of this is relative because the writers may have bits and pieces they may want to change. What do you think?”
”I definitely prefer mental control to emotional. I don’t want Hector to get humanised, or have any sympathetic traits. If his answers to why he’s decided to help you are all in riddles, it adds to the character rather than subtracts from it. As for the group’s purpose, I’m sure I can brainstorm some promos to tie both philosophies together and feed them to the writing team. That part about destroying and rebuilding is definitely something I could work with!” | is no monster under your bed, because I'm right here.
6”8 – 130kg| Eight Years Of Experience
|Birth Name |
»Andrew Gosforth
|Hails From |
»Paisley, Scotland
»April 7th, 1986 (31)
|Fighting Style |
» Hector is a large man, and as such has a large arsenal of power moves, but what sets him apart from other powerhouses is his in-ring psychology, mindgames and theatrics. In his gimmick’s newest incarnation, will sometimes hurt himself just to unnerve his opponent, as well as relish in the pain of his opponent instead of fighting to win quickly. A Hector match can be an uncomfortable watch, and sometimes won’t even feel PG even though it breaks no rules.
|Signature Moves |
» Daddy’s Awake (Spear/Double Leg Takedown hybrid with theatrics)
» Nightmare Drop
» Chokeslam Backbreaker
» Lifting Spinebuster
|Finisher |
» Straightjacket Neckbreaker
» Dreamcatcher
|Theme |
» Old Theme:
» New Theme:
|Backstage Rep |
»’Hector’ had enjoyed success as a big guy with the gimmick of an insane slasher villain, though this translated to cheesy effects, mind games and blackout attacks every other week. He was never a world champion though he did briefly hold the IC belt, and had an upper-card feud with Drayden during one of the rare instances when he wasn’t champion or challenging for the championship. This all came to an end over a year ago when Andrew had to go through a messy divorce, and took time off to return to Scotland and deal with that. He was written off TV by being set of fire from one of the chemicals of Dr. Sinister off the back of a feud with The creation, and then he was gone.
Several months ago, he came back for training, and to people’s surprise, it’s as if he was never gone. She’s the same old chatty, friendly big scot who enjoys a drink, and he had very little ring rust. He fell back into place in the AWE machine and is now ready to return to the ring, though his debut is still being held off until after the tournament. Personally, Andrew isn’t sure his character still fits in with an industry that’s gearing towards a more realistic, MMA style populated by small, fast guys with realistic names and characters, or maybe that just means he’s needed more than ever.
|Gimmick |
» Hector’s new gimmick is far more genuinely scary and intense than his old one. He is now a deranged psychopath, and even though there are still blackout attacks and lighting effects, Hector is framed less of a supernatural monster than he was in his previous run and far more of an ordinary albeit twisted and deranged human, and therefore all the more unsettling for it, as he seems real now. He will wear creepy masks, give nonsensical promos that make the interviewer uncomfortable, stalk his feuding opponents backstage in skits and during their promos, ect. His mindgames are a thing of beauty now. Rather than before, where every opponent would get the same thing (dolls, abandoned asylums, little girls), now each feud’s mindgames are tailored towards the fears and insecurities of his opponents and a big deal will be made of him getting inside their heads.
|Face or Heel |
» Indiscriminate Heel
|Other |
» Face Claim – Rory McCann |
49,089 | 1,324 | 62 | 2,573 | 1,662 | Collab with
Introducing Mr. and Mrs. Kennedy
Featuring Kevin Harrison and Claire Gilmore.During Shock N AWE San Jose...______________________________________________________________________________________
______________________________________________________________________________________
______________________________________________________________________________________
______________________________________________________________________________________
While the Battle of the Blondes segment was happening, Alice Kennedy, wife of the soon-to-be-famous Mordecai, was in one of the break rooms not paying attention to the screen but rather... reading Entertainment Weekly. Priorities. If she hadn’t started this article, she would be adamant on watching the fight, but her mind was distracted! There was so much juice in the world of the rich and the famous. Plus, her sister most definitely was recording the match and analyzing it to see how Ari, the Queen of the rebels, could improve herself against her competitors. That was not an issue for Alice since she was a valet, not a full time wrestler.
The only matches Alice felt inclined to pay attention to, when the matches were happening, were matches that involved the men Mordecai would go up against. Anything she could do to help her husband climb the ladder was truly all she cared about. While Ajax, or Mikey as she preferred calling him, took care of her sister, Alice would make sure her Hercules, her soulmate, her everything, Benjamin, kept fighting the great fight to make his mark in the AWE universe. His new act was pure gold and she was ecstatic to translate this fantasy into reality. Before they know it people would be wearing merchandise with his face and name on them! Hopefully made by Adriana Elliot (FC: Felice Fawn), the on road graphic designer, who was still flourishing with youth, like her, but also the best designer AWE has ever had. A dark beauty, who worked black just as well as the infamous Morgana did, but was a total animal behind the scenes. Alice would know, she got drunk with the girl on numerous occasions.
But for now… oh my god.
“Can you believe this, honey?!” Alice slapped the magazine on the table, revealing an article about Amity Bellerose, the princess of fashion, daughter of Maxwell Bellerose Sr., multi-billionaire high fashion designer and founder of Velvet Bellerose, VBR, a french multinational luxury goods and high fashion brand. Yet another article about America’s sweetheart, the triple threat idol, and her lover who went by the video game alias, Quantum Reach. “They’re saying that Amie continues to date this ‘nobody’ to rebel against her father. How long have they been dating, two yearish? Why can’t people let her live her life. She’s just a seventeen year old girl, who cares if her love doesn’t have a huge label. Oh! That reminds me, are we still going to see her live? I wouldn’t mind checking her music scene out.”
Here he was. At an actual AWE event, no longer toiling away in developmental. For three long years he’d worked his ass off but nothing had stuck; until he’d decided to try something completely different. Mordecai, the supernatural, mystical, cult of personality character had worked for him. Between that and the help of the newest coach down at the performance center, Kento Nakajima, who taught Benjamin how to make his in-ring work savage and stiff— ‘strong style’ —Benjamin had elevated himself into someone that had star potential.
Oh yeah, and a serious amount of self-discipline and gym obsession to give himself the ‘look,’ so that they’d actually give him a shot. Once a thin, wiry guy, Benjamin was ripped now. ‘You’re lookin’ real jacked, kid,’ Roddy (Yes, Roderick Quinn himself!) had said to him when they’d arrived earlier.
But, they were still backstage. Still not wrestling. Benjamin and his love, who had supported him through every second of the transformation into a star, were just sitting around backstage. It sucked. He hated it. Benjamin had been staring intently at the screen with his arms folded over his chest when Alice had spoke to him, and he looked over at her, with a blank look on his face before she gave him some context, before he started nodding. The secret to marriage? Just agree with her.
“Of course we can still go see her live. I got a raise when they brought me up, you know.”
Alice’s face had brightened with her childish grin. More money meant more spontaneous adventures when they weren’t living the life of a professional wrestler. Sure, it would be hard to find the free time, especially after they made their big debut, but when there was a will, there was a way! Alice absolutely needed to do more things with her life. The only way she could grow as an actress was if she experienced what the world has to offer.
Realizing her husband had other things on his mind, she closed the magazine and leaned closer to him, resting her hand on his, “Soon we’ll be on the big screen too!” She serenely gleamed at him. “Have you heard anything yet? If you want, I can annoy the writers for some answers.”
“No, nothing yet… I think Drayden getting hurt kinda ruined their long term plans. So most everyone is kinda up in the air now. I think sometime after this upcoming show, Sin City Showdown, we’ll all be able to get back into normality.” Benjamin explained as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close to him, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t think you should bother them. If you make them too angry, then they might just fuck me over and give me like… a dancing gimmick. I don’t wanna go down that road again.”
“Okay, okay, if you say so honey bunches of oats.” Alice glanced up at her hero and nestled her face against his muscular physique. All her’s. “And hey, you’re not a bad dancer. I can get down with you all night long.” The platinum blonde teased, as she took in his intoxicating scent. Even after marriage, she was still obsessed with him.
“Dancing wrestlers don’t exactly make for super stars, you know.” Benjamin explained, as she snuggled up into him. Looking down at the smaller girl, Ben furrowed his eyebrows. “Hey, don’t we spend most nights up anyway? ...should probably stop doing that. I don’t wanna look like a zombie on my debut…”
Peeved since her advances flew over his head, AND that he wanted to limit their time together, Alice puckered her lips into a pout, squinting her green eyes up at him, making ‘that face’. Her face where she was trying to understand and be reasonable, but wanted to be selfish and keep him all to herself, “I guess sooooooo. If sleep is what you want, sleep is what you’ll get!”
Damn, he’d said the wrong thing. Silently, Benjamin demeaned himself for making such a rookie mistake, and he opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by the voice of a very familiar writer boy. “Speaking of your debut… it’s the week after Sin City Showdown so… two weeks. In good ol’ Boston, Massachusetts. You’re interfering with Ajax, who you’re going to be feuding with for… I think the next two big shows… Boston is generally pretty smarky so we’re DECENTLY sure they’re gonna pop for you — Heath swears up and down that the internet loves you, so enjoy that. It’s probably the muscles. I don’t know how you did that. Pretty sure you were like, skinny last time I saw you.” Kevin Harrison, AWE writing extraordinaire, took his arm away from his fiancee’s waist and poked Benjamin’s iron corded bicep muscle. “Unreal.”
“Hard work, and determination.” Was Benjamin’s only reply.
“Anyway. I figured it’d be easy for you guys to feud against someone you know so well, since the trust will already be there. But, anyway, you do your thing on the mic and make people believe you’re the antichrist or whatever it is your schtick is and sell t-shirts and you’ve got a long and storied career to look forward to.”
“And maybe as a treat, eat some hot cheetos with your wife and have a night out.” Claire added, having read the emotions on Alice’s face and assuming she wanted to be spoiled to some degree. On the first PPV, Claire had a surprise of her own for her love… hopefully all goes well and he doesn’t get too caught up in after party festivities. He’s a busy man and she missed him.
“Two weeks… this is great, love!” Hearing the news of the debut distracted Alice enough and now she was bouncing in her seat, “We need to make sure we’re ready. Work, work, work, and then play!” She grinned and gave Claire a wink when she said the word ‘play’.
Despite this talk about treats, and cheetos, and play, and work, Kevin was still focused on Benjamin’s physique. “When was the last time you had a carb, man? Eat a donut or something. You make the rest of us look lazy.” Kevin shook his head in disbelief and Benjamin shuffled his feet awkwardly.
“Uh… I’m sorry? Two weeks, huh? Against Ajax… I can work with that. I’ll have a promo ready to run by you guys before the pay-per-view —”
“Oh, uh, we only check certain people’s stuff. You have a greenlight. You don’t have to run anything by us, we trust you.” Kevin explained, and Benjamin’s eyes lit up excitedly. Freedom!? He’d had a degree of it in the developmental brand, but as far as he’d understood, there was only more restraints to come with joining the main touring crew… This was fantastic news, as far as he was concerned.
“That’s fantastic! Thanks. I guess we’ll go out and eat something now…” As Kevin opened his mouth, Benjamin cut him off. “Yes, something with carbs.”
“Good deal.”
“Oh yay! I’m famished.” Alice pounced up from her seat, grabbing the magazine with her.
Claire latched onto her fiance, leaning her head against his shoulder, “I can’t wait to see you two live.”
“You’re gonna look fantastic in HD.” Kevin muttered, before shaking his head and leading Claire off into the darkness to do more important things. Like… have sex in the locker room. Or his office. Or both.
“So, where do you wanna go? I’m thinking Italian food. I like Italian food. And I haven’t had it in like… a year. Almost a year and a half…” Benjamin asked, looking at Alice expectantly. Say Italian.
Rolling her eyes as she smirked, Alice grabbed his hand and interlocked her fingers with his, “Italian sounds delightful. I haven’t had it in ‘almost a year and a half’ too, you know, since I usually always eat with you.”
“I guess that’s undeniably true. Sorry, I had to get in shape… I think it helped me get moved up, don’t you? Plus you shouldn’t care that much. It got me all sexy and stuff.” Benjamin explained, pulling out his phone and dragging Alice along with him. “Let’s go find some delicious food and then later we can text your sister and her boy and let them know we’ll be feuding. That’s kinda cool, right?”
“You are sexy!” Alice’s cheeks flared in defense, “But I loved you even before you got the hot bod. I wasn’t trying to sound all whiny and complainy. I think by now you should assume I’d be happy to do anything with you, even change my diet so we can suffer together.” Hmpf. He was so serious sometimes. A lot of the times. “Yeah, that’s cool. I think that’s a great feud to start with. I’d love to share the ring with my sister.”
“I’m sorry, Ali. I’m just really nervous. So I’m getting all antsy and it’s making me turn off my carefree levels…” Ben frowned and gave his love a kiss on her lips, then nuzzled their noses together. “I love you. Sorry. Let’s go eattttt.” | Daniel “DC” “Don’t Call Me Danny” “Danny” “Danny Church” Church
6’ - 184 lbs | 12
|Birth Name |
» Daniel Church
|Hails From |
» Sacramento, California
» October 9th, 1985 (31)
|Job at AWE |
» He does not work at AWE. However, he is often at their events and is friends with more than a few wrestlers and backstage employees. He is a wrestling journalist and posts stories as they come and go, and reviews the shows and matches. He reacts accordingly based on how he feels the company is performing, and has no qualms calling out a wrestler or wrestlers for having a shit match, cutting a shit promo, or calling out the powers that be for making their fucking look like goddamn geeks.
|Skills |
» Smooth talking
» Tech savvy
» Dadskills
» Radio host-esque silky smooth voice
» Good at ranting
|Reason for being here |
» When he was younger, in 2001, Daniel Church had a brilliant idea in his school computers class: he’d build a fucking website. Now, the first thing you had to do when building a website, was pick something you were passionate about… at the time, Danny Church was only really passionate about one thing: PROFESSIONAL WRESTLING. Even at the young age of fifteen, DC had a brilliant mind for coding and built a website that was grand, even for the times. It gained a following, and the forums on it exploded in popularity as the tape traders and more hardcore fans finally found a place to talk and get their opinions out there.
The Smark Remark, the website is known as, and it’s only grown since its original inception in mid-2001. Danny made friends with the right people, and after high school, he passed the day-to-day management of the website over to a team of administrators and moderators. The man himself began a focus on the content creation for the website. He hosted podcasts with wrestlers from all over the world, and he began to rate matches.
Every show he saw, either live or on a tape he bought, he rated the match. Over time, his ratings and opinions got a little controversial, with people arguing about whether he was right or wrong, but he there was one thing they agreed on: he was consistent. He also wrote reports on rumors that he heard, and posted opinions and frequently participated in conversations on the message boards.
Four years after graduating, when Danny was 22, his then girlfriend, Clarissa Whitaker, gave birth to his two beautiful children. Twins, a boy and a girl. Robert and Cynthia, Bobby and Cyn. His babies and his life — other than work. They are turning ten in January of next year, and attend an online school to make it easier on Daniel to travel around for his job. They haven’t seen their mother since they were two; as it turns out, their mother was… crazy, to say the least. After Daniel discovered her drug habits and realized she was a poison in his life, he cut her out and got full custody of his children.
Since then, the single dad life has been the life for him. Working and taking care of two rascals isn’t exactly the easiest lot in life, but… he makes it work. When he was called up by Walter Durrel, who proposed combining their two mediums a few years ago, DC jumped on the opportunity. Together now, they put out podcasts reviewing AWE mostly, as that’s Walter’s preferred company. In return, Danny Church offers the Smark Remark’s website as a new home for the Wrestling Journal. They make a surprisingly good team so far.
|Looks & Style |
» Decked out from head to toe in wrestling gear, Danny doesn’t give a FUCK about how people think of him in public. He’s a hardworking single father, get bent. He’ll sometimes match or contradict his children when they go to the shows — both of his kids are huge fans too.
|Personality Traits |
» Danny is brutal and quick to be critical. He doesn’t listen to the reasons for things sucking and just accepts that they suck. If a wrestler isn’t working at their full capacity because of injuries? Whatever, stop fucking working. Utilize your roster, people.
He’s fun to talk to, and is good at telling stories and ranting and making other people who agree with him happy. He often gets into long winded debates on his podcast with Walter, but as a person Danny honestly looks forward to it every night.
Deep down, he’s just a mark, dude. He loves wrestling, everything about it from the ground up is amazing, and he can’t get enough. The fact that he built something great out of his love for wrestling amazes him to this day, and the Smark Remark is his baby. He enjoys posting on the message boards to this day, and recording the weekly podcasts is something he lovingly looks forward to every day.
It’s his second baby, the thing he loves most right behind his children.
|Favorite wrestler |
» Caiden goddamn fucking Winters, fuck you Roddy for burying the best wrestler to ever grace this goddamn planet. And Retribution. Excited for him to come, which I'M SURE HE'LL DO EVENTUALLY ONCE RODERICK QUINN PULLS HIS HEAD OUT OF HIS FUCKING ASS. Gethin's a personal favorite too, at least he gets used properly by those idiots.
And fuck you Drayden, I bet you encouraged that shit, didn’t you? Gotta GO OVER EVERYONE. Asshole. And of course, my fucking kid loves you so I have all that stupid merchandise in my fucking HOUSE.
Trinity’s cool too.
And Morgana.
What? I can’t hate the kids’s favorites, I’d be an asshole.
Except for Drayden. Fuck you. And fuck your stupid fat head wall stickers, now you’re stuck to the goddamn wall behind my FUCKING COUCH.
|Rep at AWE |
» Honestly, most people at the AWE don’t really like him. Daniel is loud, brash, and he doesn’t care about calling them out if they do something stupid. If you botch one goddamn move you better believe DC will roast the fuck out of you. You lose a match looking like a geek and hate it? Too goddamn bad, Danny Church knows full well you’re a NERD and you’ll never live it down.
But, he’s undeniably good at the job, and they actually take his ratings seriously. The few wrestlers that Danny fanboys about are quite fond of him, and he does a good podcast that wrestlers try to take advantage of. It can just be hard to deal with someone that’s going to call out every little mistake you make, even when it’s more blamed on the booking team than yourself.
He also has a tendency to post rumors about who’s going to win or lose a match, and rarely checks the validity of his source. Unlike his partner, Walter, Daniel Church is not a journalist. He’s angry millennial who thinks Roderick Quinn is ruining his goddamn favorite thing by blowing Drayden and giving him everything he asks for.
This doesn’t stop every member of the locker room from obsessively checking his reviews, though. Even Roddy does it.
|Other |
» 16a064
» Jensen Ackles. |
49,090 | 1,324 | 63 | 1,373 | 62 | SILAS ARTORIA
- During the Sin City Showdown Go-Home Show -
- With -
His stay at Wyoming was short, but it was enough time to catch up before he started taking the most direct route towards Denver. Weather wasn’t the most pleasant, and almost opted to take a train to his destination, but it would ruin the effect that Michael and the AWE had desired for his debut. He envisioned a true surprise, and thus opted to stay in Buffalo with his parents for a few days to throw off the scent. It had been about two months since he left Japan, his non-compete clause had expired, and he got the call from the guys on the road to be at the Pepsi Centre.
He arrived a few minutes after the show had started as planned and had parked his hired car within the maze of production vehicles that littered the parking lot. There were people waiting at the gates, but the tinted windows would stop any cameras from seeing inside. He got out, grabbed the case containing his gear, and entered the Pepsi Centre as the faint sound of Roddy Quinn buzzed through the foundations.
With the show yet to start for a while, Wade Palmer was there to receive him. Another one of Wade’s ‘pet projects’ as Roddy liked to call them, or his ‘tests’ as Heath called them, Silas was mostly Wade’s responsibility. Which meant he had to meet him at the door, and show him around, and introduce him to everyone and just generally be the guy for the first couple of shows.
Which, to Wade, wasn’t really a big deal. He’d done it before for a few different wrestlers here at AWE, and he’d likely do it to many more as time went on. So, this was easy. Almost immediately after Michael stepped into the building, the unmistakable voice of the AWE filled the air to address him: “Hey, Silas. Welcome to the party, pal. I’m Wade, and I’ll be your guest until showtime, but I’ll hand you over to Kevin or something before that happens.”
Michael met the hand with his own. “Wade? We spoke over the phone, great we finally met,” It was nice to hear the voice that negotiated him to come back to the States for sometime, and to meet them face to face. “And, feel free to call me Michael,” he continued, gripping his case in his left hand.
“Yeah, I’m just not gonna do that. I never call people by anything but their ring name — it breaks kayfabe, dude.” Wade explained, dropping the newcomer’s hand and nodding, “it’s good to meet you too. If you look around you’ll see the usual suspects, and catering. We have like tons of food. As it turns out, a bunch of muscle heads eat a load of food. Who knew?” Wade explained as he led Silas through the halls of the arena, gesturing at catering as they passed by it.
Michael couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. He had maintained kayfabe during his time in public - it was why he decided to travel in secret - but having internal staff maintaining it to each other was fairly fascinating. Guess it was something to keep in mind. Outside he was Michael, inside he was Silas in name. “Can speak from experience,” replied Silas, referring to the time when he arrived at Japan looking like a literal circle. Wasn’t the best of shapes, though he couldn’t help but eat plenty when asked to wait to be called to the gorilla position.
“Anyway, I’d introduce you to Roddy, but he’s kinda busy right now. He always is during shows, so your best bet to find him would be during travel time or at least after the show starts. He tends to calm down, especially when he’s been involved… which he has been lately. I dunno what they’re planning really — I never read the segment list, I like to keep it spoiler free so I react as naturally as possible on commentary. Best way to do things, I think.” Wade explained as they walked through the building together, before he added, “however, somewhere around here is Kevin, Kevin Harrison. He’s the lead in creative here, so if you have any questions about your direction, that’s who you would hit up. He’s a lot easier to find, usually…” Looking around, Wade grinned as he saw someone up ahead slip out of a small room in the building, slightly adjusting his collar. “There’s the man of the hour, actually. Hey, Kev!”
Man, Kevin hated being jumped as soon as he made an appearance, but hey. Whatever, man. Wade was cool, so he spun on his heel and waved to Wade and the new guy… Silas? Michael? Warren? Kevin couldn’t remember. He had a lot going on up in his head, with all the work it took to get everyone booked and relevant. “Hey, Wade. Sup? Who’s your friend?”
Silas smiled and held out his hand. “Silas, pleasure to meet you.” He wanted to make a good impression; this was the guy who would present the tools and the better he presented himself, the better the bullet points he’d get.
Kevin accepted the handshake after walking close enough to and nodded. “Hey. You’re the new guy, yeah? Let me tell you how we do things around here: what I say goes. I’m the boss. You’re all pawns. Or… something like that? Just kidding, man. We’re all pretty chill around here, just don’t be an asshole and we won’t depush you for the most part. Basically, do what you want. We’re pretty relaxed as far as limiting talent goes. There are a few things that are outlawed, but you can talk to a road agent about those. Biggest thing I can think of is chair-shots straight to the dome. That’s a big nono. We basically tell you what we want you to do, if we want you to work heel or face, then you work it out with your opponent down to the letter. Sometimes we want specific finishes, sometimes we don’t. We’re a huge, multi-national company, and we’re ran by me and two other dudes who are equally jackass-y. So, get used to it. Roddy’s approachable if you ever wanna beg for special treatment.”
Silas smiled at Kevin, and replied, “Noted, was never a chairshot guy anyway, so you don’t have to worry about that.” He knew well what those shots felt like. Took one and his head span for a good week. Plus it hurt like the fires of hell. “Thanks for the heads up!”
“Right on, brother, right on. Anyway, we took the notes we have on your character and you’re getting a pretty standard debut match this week. From there, everyone is sorta in limbo until after the PPV… It kinda sucks, but it is what it is. Can’t account for injuries or human error, really.” Kevin shrugged his shoulders. It wasn’t his fault that Drayden had been working hurt for so long — that was all Roddy. Roddy was too reliant on Drayden, so reliant that he didn’t stop to see the future. With him being out for now, it was time to enjoy being in charge without the old man shutting everything down to focus on the old guard. It would be a fun few months.
“Shame, really enjoyed his work,” Silas said back. He was out of the country for most of Drayden’s run, but it was difficult to escape from that name, one of the biggest names in the medium. “Show must go on though...don’t suppose I can take a look at tonight’s line-up?” He wanted to prepare, the outfit took some time to put on, and there was no way in hell he would wear it in public outings outside of booked appearances.
“Yeah, it’s over there,” Kevin pointed off into the distance toward a place where a crowd of wrestlers were gathered, “we always just hang it over there. There are copies if you really want one. Need anything else right now?”
Silas wondered to himself for a brief moment, but said, “Not that I can think of outside of a general induction.” He held his hand out again. “Nice to meet you again.”
He got the sheet, simple but to the point. The match between Sexton and Sparks was well underway, and he could see from the highlighted points that we wasn’t due on stage for some time. Four blocks later to be exact.
When he saw his name and the booking plan, the new guy stopped without warning in bemusement. On one hand, he was elated to see that he was going up against Thunderbird, a lovable character who the fans would be behind, perfect to establish Silas as a villain. On the other hand, Michael watched the recent shows to get him up to speed with what is going on. It was clear that from space that Sexton and Thunderbird were going to collide in one form or another at the PPV, but was confused as to why Silas was to win clean at the go-home show, especially since Thunderbird could look potentially weak ahead of his scheduled rematch.
It needed to be adjusted, not for Silas, but for both Thunderbird and Sexton. Turning around, he marched to find either one of them. | Silas ArtoriaI wouldn't recommend taunting the Bloodletter, otherwise the ring will be painted with your remains
6ft - 225lbs | 10 years experience
|Birth Name |
» Michael Singleton
|Hails From |
» Toronto, Canada
» August 30th, 1990 (26)
|Fighting Style |
» Silas's fighting style emphasizes the speed of his strikes and his ability to adapt to his opponents on the fly. He typically takes punishment from his opponent with the aim to identify weaknesses to exploit. Silas's moveset blends technical and classical together, with the only element of high flying wrestling used in one of his signature moves.
As the Bloodletter, the fighting style is noticeably faster, noticeably louder, and noticeably stiffer to incorporate the unstable and unhinged personality of Silas' "passenger".
In comedy matches, Silas takes the matches very seriously, despite the sometimes ludicrous spots he or his opponent are booked to execute.+
|Signature Moves |
» Black Out (360 face kick)
» Fall of Man (Topé con Hilo)
|Finisher |
» Gurney (Inverted DDT)
» Doom Slayer (Snap Dragon Suplex followed by a running knee strike, used under the Bloodletter persona)
» Emu Strike (Pointed hand face strike, used exclusively in comedy matches]
|Theme |
» Arousal - When normal
» Cyberdemon - When under the Bloodletter persona
|Gimmick |
» Silas Artoria is an upper-class intellectual with a fondness of insulting the intelligence of his opponent and the audience to generate heat. His unnerving approach to his promos, combined with an unstable character, created an unreliable yet compelling element during Elias' time in Japan. Despite his villainous role, Silas sometimes breaks the forth wall to either deliver an address to those watching at home, or to make a point.
The Bloodletter is a voice Silas fears, contained within his body with Silas normally making efforts to contain it, sometimes to no avail when a rivalry gets heated. The Bloodletter is far more ruthless, animalistic, speachless, and won't rest until it gets what it desires. Out of kayfabe, The Bloodletter is exclusively used in blow off matches in intense feuds.
|Face or Heel |
» Heel
|Backstage Rep |
» Despite the character's presentation, Michael is a fun loving individual who relishes in getting along with his co-workers, believing that would develop good chemistry and better matches. He relishes in nerd culture, crediting it when it comes to his character, and has appeared at conventions as his Silas character while maintaining kayfabe.
Despite his personality and his friendly approach, he is dead set on following two rules to protect his character. Rule 1 is that his Doom Slayer finisher is protected, meaning that his opponent can counter it midway through, but the kneestrike guarantees the end of matches. Rule 2 is that under the Bloodletter persona, tapping out wasn't an option, wanting to protect the ruthlessness of his dark side.
Michael had worked for a local promotion before spending seven years in Japan, signing a deal with AWE a month prior when he decided he wanted to be closer to his family.
|Other |
» Anything else you would like us to know?
» Elias Toufexis |
49,091 | 1,324 | 64 | 2,180 | 2,019 | vs
Match 3:Collab with:
The crowd were ready for the next match. The floor and the walls were vibrating from the thunderous applause and stamps of feet against the arena floor. Gethin stood at the gorilla position, watching as the lights went out in anticipation for his entrance through the curtain. As the first few bars of his music began to bleed out across the building and the low pink and blue lights seep through the darkness, he places his signature gumshield into his mouth; feeling every ache and twinge in his body as he did so. The hard hitting, savage style he used was wearing down his body but that wasn’t going to stop him; not by a long shot. He walked through the curtain, morphing into a silhouette seen through the smoke at the top of the entrance ramp.
As the song picked up and the lights flickered to a murderous blood red, Gethin emerged from the smoke and matched down the ramp with purpose. His slow, sinister walk harkened back to a predator of the animal kingdom, it was deliberate and precise, no wasted motion. Once he had reached the ring amid a chorus of boos, he made his way to the far corner, cracking his knuckle and neck joints, preparing himself for war. He locked his steely glare to the top of the stage to await his opponent. He could work magic with Oscar, he knew it. The fans in attendance were in for a show tonight.
And with the rising crescendo, the show had just gotten started, as fireworks and pyrotechnics exploded, turning the ramp into a carnival of light and color, and from the sparksm with his fist raised, and head held high, was Oscar O’Sullivan, who also got boos, but a few cheers, as many fans saw him as the lesser of two evils and chose him as the de-facto face of the match. The brutal, merciless sadist, vs the arrogant, slimy showoff. There were no good guys to be found here. Just two people who had their eyes on the title, and merely saw the other as a man standing in their way.
Then Oscar entered the ring, he smiled mockingly at Gethin, as he paced. Here was a smile that spoke not of mere confidence, but a face that wasn’t even considering the notion of failure. While Gethin was the the corner, as if hiding in the bushes to strike at his prey, Oscar stood in the center of the ring; the place where all eyes were drawn too. Standing there in his eye-catching purple and silver ring gear, he was the center of attention.
Gethin tightened his grip on the ropes as the lights came up from Oscar’s entrance. He had respect for his opponent, no doubt about it. In fact backstage, away from the bright lights of AWE, The One and Only was someone that Gethin held in high regard. He was a veteran of the squared circle, a man who carried himself with the utmost ayr of grace. This needed to be a good match, not only because it’s what the fans deserve but because it was what Oscar deserved for his service to the business and Gethin wanted to give him that.
The bell rang and the welsh wonder moved forward towards his opponent and offered up his left hand; not for a handshake but for a grapple, a test of strength, one of the oldest traditions in professional wrestling, which Oscar immediately accepted The two men jockeyed for position trading hold for hold in an early contest of catch as catch can. The crowd applauded the two of them for their technical ability. Oscar was a crowd pleaser, big spots were his bread and butter but for the most part he was like clay and could adapt to any style, any opponent. It was that which truly adhered him to Rhys, another professional. As they locked up again, Gethin swept his opponent's leg and took him down to the canvass, wrapping his arm up into an armbar.
Oscar treated the armbar as more of an annoyance than a limb-wrenching hold. Not to say he no-sold it, but he had a natural intuition for escalation. You wouldn’t spike for a DDT delivered fifteen seconds into a match. You’d spike for a tornado DDT delivered ten minutes in. Still, he writhed around, not making any move to escape it until he sensed the audience were losing interest. Once he felt that time was coming, he got both of his feet flat on the canvas, then bridged, rolled back, stood up and then executed a crisp front flip. Now Oscar had Gethin’s arm twisted, he gave it a yank for good measure then faced the crowd and bowed in a way that was far too smug for any impressed individuals to decide to cheer him. He got booed for that impressive display.
Gethin rolled his arm free of Oscar’s hold and moved off to the opposite side of the ring only for a second before squaring up to hs opponent, face to face and nose to nose, the brutal artist hissed through his gumshield ”Ready yourself” He gave the man mere milliseconds before he slapped the taste from his mouth with a hard open hand strike. The audience released a shared gasp at the disrespect shown. Gethin quickly followed up with a barrage of similarly strong slaps and chops, driving the eleven year veteran into the corner. He took a slight run up before hitting a stiff knee strike to Oscar’s gut. He then proceeded to brutally kick the purple and silver attack in the chest with hard hitting roundhouse kicks. With each kick, Oscar’s skin became redder and redder. He mounted the lower turnbuckle and mockingly bowed over his opponents head to resounding chorus of boos.
Oscar hadn’t even needed to try and sell the pain of those chops and strikes. They hurt! The warning was definitely appreciated. Oscar made a show of rearing his read and looking around for the ref, just so that the audience's eye (As well as Gethin’s out of kayfabe) could be caught by his movements and realise what he was about to do. For good measure, he spoke quietly the words ‘low blow’, and when the ref wasn’t looking, he low-blowed Gethin as hard as he could, swinging his entire arm right up.
With Gethin reeling from that, Oscar slipped outside through the ropes, climbed the turnbuckle, and then caught Gethin’s head in between his legs and executed a Springboard Frankensteiner, sending Gethin crashing onto the middle of the ring. Now playtime was over, and Oscar wasted no time in marching to middle of the ropes, hopping to the second rope, and moonsaults onto Gethin’s prone body, before trying a cover, which barely made it past the one count. Even so, Oscar had made the first pin attempt. He’d drawn first blood.
Gethin rolled away from the pin attempt to the corner of the ring in order to try and catch his breath. He clutched his nether regions to sell the low blow, his face exasperated in pain. The moonsault had knocked the wind out of him. He growled through his mouthguard as Oscar rushed towards the corner only to be greeted by a strong knee to the jaw as the Welsh dragon sprang to his feet and leapt into the air. He hooked the back of Oscar’s head and proceeded to drill his opponent with several more heavy knee lifts before following with a snap European uppercut that knocked him down to the mat.
Not wasting any time, Rhys jammed his fingers into the roof of Oscar’s mouth and began to physically drag the personification of arrogance across to the corner of the ring. Once there he pulled him to his feet and began to climb the turnbuckle in reverse, wrapping his arm around Oscar’s chin. Gethin locked his fingers together and straightened his back, lifting O’Sullivan from the ground and pulling back, essentially hanging the One and Only right there in the ring. Oscar struggled, writhed, and flopped around, but to no avail, he was caught. The ref began the count to 5 and Gethin of course held on to at least 4 and ¾ before dropping him like a sack of potatoes.
Dropping from the apron, the brutal artist quick dove into a pin attempt only for Oscar to break it at 2. Oscar then sat up, with one hand on his jaw, selling the pain, and wriggling his jaw from side to side, before biting a few times. Content, he lay back down, and then kip-upped back to his feet, staring down Gethin with hate. The time for games and showmanship were over, and Oscar showed this by rebounding off the ropes and running towards Gethin. Gethin hoped to strike his opponent with a spinning backfist but Oscar ducked under the move, rebounded off the other rops, and executed a sliding tackle, knocking Gethin onto his back. Wasting not time, Oscar got to his knees and locked in his submission hold; Over And Out.
All of the sudden, the Cardiff Psycho felt an intense amount of pressure on his body and neck as Oscar locked in a patented submission hold. Despite the pain he was in, Gethin knew that this hold was simply to prolong the match, a rest hold was often used as a way to pan a show run time, give the wrestlers a breather and increase the psychology of the match and if for nothing else, Oscar was a master of in ring psychology. After a few fleeting moments in the hold, Gethin managed to move his long legs to just beneath the bottom rope, there in forcing the ref to break up the submission.
Gethin sold the pain by clutching at his body. He pulled himself up to his feet, as their war raged on he let out a visceral yell, feeding off the pain within his being to fuel his burning thirst for violence. Oscar was not going to give Gethin time to recover or am himself up, though, and turned round to hit the brutal artist with a pele kick. This made his foe reel but didn’t knock him down, so Oscar got back to his feet and followed it up with some quick and desperate looking punches. Gethin began to no sell Oscar’s moves, with every strike just increasing the fury on his face. As Oscar lunged forward for another attempt, Gethin caught his wrist in a double wrist-lock and drilled him with a roundhouse kick to the chest, causing the OAO to fall to his knees. Pulling Oscar into a front facelock, the welsh dragon promptly proceeded to strike him with several rapid fire point elbow shots to the back of the head. This match was intense and the crowd was eating it up but it was time to go home.
Oscar swept the legs out from underneath Gethin, bringing down to the mat beside him as he tried to reach his prone opponent, Gethin dove forward and applied a roll up cover, grabbing onto the ropes as he did so. The referee counted a quick 1 2 3 and the welshman hastily left the ring to a massive amount of boos. The fans had been robbed of a potential classic thanks to Gethin’s underhanded tactics. He pressed a finger to his temple and called out ”I thought you were supposed to be the smart one!” He smugly grinned as he began to walk up the ramp, basking in the hate of the paying fans.
Oscar was still looking down, in disbelief of what just happened. He didn’t see Gethin’s taunt, or if he did, didn’t react to it. The beaten up showoff slid out from under the ropes and hobbled up the ramp, following the path of the victor, Gethin, but didn’t look ahead as he did so. | is no monster under your bed, because I'm right here.
6”8 – 130kg| Eight Years Of Experience
|Birth Name |
»Andrew Gosforth
|Hails From |
»Paisley, Scotland
»April 7th, 1986 (31)
|Fighting Style |
» Hector is a large man, and as such has a large arsenal of power moves, but what sets him apart from other powerhouses is his in-ring psychology, mindgames and theatrics. In his gimmick’s newest incarnation, will sometimes hurt himself just to unnerve his opponent, as well as relish in the pain of his opponent instead of fighting to win quickly. A Hector match can be an uncomfortable watch, and sometimes won’t even feel PG even though it breaks no rules.
|Signature Moves |
» Daddy’s Awake (Spear/Double Leg Takedown hybrid with theatrics)
» Nightmare Drop
» Chokeslam Backbreaker
» Lifting Spinebuster
|Finisher |
» Straightjacket Neckbreaker
» Dreamcatcher
|Theme |
» Old Theme:
» New Theme:
|Backstage Rep |
»’Hector’ had enjoyed success as a big guy with the gimmick of an insane slasher villain, though this translated to cheesy effects, mind games and blackout attacks every other week. He was never a world champion though he did briefly hold the IC belt, and had an upper-card feud with Drayden during one of the rare instances when he wasn’t champion or challenging for the championship. This all came to an end over a year ago when Andrew had to go through a messy divorce, and took time off to return to Scotland and deal with that. He was written off TV by being set of fire from one of the chemicals of Dr. Sinister off the back of a feud with The creation, and then he was gone.
Several months ago, he came back for training, and to people’s surprise, it’s as if he was never gone. She’s the same old chatty, friendly big scot who enjoys a drink, and he had very little ring rust. He fell back into place in the AWE machine and is now ready to return to the ring, though his debut is still being held off until after the tournament. Personally, Andrew isn’t sure his character still fits in with an industry that’s gearing towards a more realistic, MMA style populated by small, fast guys with realistic names and characters, or maybe that just means he’s needed more than ever.
|Gimmick |
» Hector’s new gimmick is far more genuinely scary and intense than his old one. He is now a deranged psychopath, and even though there are still blackout attacks and lighting effects, Hector is framed less of a supernatural monster than he was in his previous run and far more of an ordinary albeit twisted and deranged human, and therefore all the more unsettling for it, as he seems real now. He will wear creepy masks, give nonsensical promos that make the interviewer uncomfortable, stalk his feuding opponents backstage in skits and during their promos, ect. His mindgames are a thing of beauty now. Rather than before, where every opponent would get the same thing (dolls, abandoned asylums, little girls), now each feud’s mindgames are tailored towards the fears and insecurities of his opponents and a big deal will be made of him getting inside their heads.
|Face or Heel |
» Indiscriminate Heel
|Other |
» Face Claim – Rory McCann |
49,092 | 1,324 | 65 | 2,180 | 2,019 | Collab with
The stage was vacant, and the audience was buzzing for what they’d see next. That’s when the lights came back on and an announcer’s voice came through the speakers. “Ladies and gentleman, please welcome your AWE Women’s Champion, Barbie Summers!”
Before her theme even started, the boos began, and they only intensified when she came out, but she wasn’t dressed in ring gear. No. She was dressed in an immodest white beach bikini, wearing Maui Jim designer sunglasses with tinted pink lenses, and a white hibiscus flower in her perfectly-styled wavy blonde hair. Her title belt was around her waist as she strutted barefoot down the ramp, swishing and swaying her hips with every step. In one hand was a mic, and tucked under the other arms was a folding deck chair.
When she arrived at the ring, she took the steps, and slowly got into the ring through the ropes, making damn sure to stick her butt out and point it at camera three as she did so. She then set up her deck stair in the middle of the ring, took of the title belt and placed it down carefully, lay down on the chair, and then clicked her fingers. An official came, holding a typical beach parasol, which he placed to give her shade from the studio lights. All this done, she raised the mic to her lips, and the boos and general chatter of the crowd immediately died to a silence. They wanted to hear this.
"Day one of the Queen’s vacation!” She declared with a wide smirk, as a few people started to boo already. Oh, just wait. I haven’t even gotten to the good stuff. Barbie waited for the few boo-ers to quieten back down, then continues, still smirking. "I defended my title last week, so guess what? I’m taking Sin City Showdown off! Not that I have anything against Vegas besides the dust, the roads, the people, and the cheap, sleazy tackiness of the whole city, but I’m in the mood for some sun, sand and sea with my darling Drayden. One of the other women can entertain you by putting their bodies on the line in a hot, dark arena in cheap, tacky Vegas. I don’t have to!”
As the boos got louder in response to this, a large portion of the crowd started chanting “DEFEND TITLE!” Clap, Clap, Clap Clap Clap, which slowly morphed as new chants broke out, including “YOU’RE A COWARD!” and “SYDNEY ELLIS!”, all of which were clearly audible. Upon the mention of her opponent’s name. Barbie sat up, and her smile vanished.
"I hear you chanting Sydney Ellis up there!” She yelled angrily and shrilly into the mic, before her confident grin reemerged, and she leaned back. "That’s adorable. You still root for your little GI Jane soldier girl even though I beat her! I proved, when I faced her, that he was wrong about me! I’m not a coward, I can fight, and I did. And I kicked your ass! How do you like me now, Sydney? Did you go back to your little bunker to play with your little action figures because you stepped to a real champion and failed? I cut you down to size, Sydney! I proved to the whole world that I was right about you! You’re a nothing! A nobody! Just a short, muscle-bound freak who, despite her freakish muscles, cannot fight. I thought that was what you were all about, Sydney. Fighting? Well, that worked out sooo well for you! You know, it’s actually impressive that a woman with as poor mic skills as you can still manage to be all talk. That’s really impressive!”
Barbie calmed down, and lay back down into the chair, as she raised her bare shapely legs and started to caress her right leg with her left foot idly, yet the effect was tantalisingly sexy. "So, that’s the situation. I’m going on vacation next week, and when I get back, after Sin City Showdown, we’ll see if there are any women in the locker room who are worthy of facing me. Because I really, really doubt there are any of you left.”
As everyone boo’d (and pretty much everyone did boo, for how hot Barbie was, people sure did hate her — blew Roddy’s mind), the TitanTron flickered and the image of Roddy backstage, behind his desk. His fingers were folded on his desk and he was leaning forward toward the camera, looking it dead in the eye. “Now, Barbie, champions don’t get vacations. You’re going to defend your title at Sin City Showdown, whether you like it or not. You may be wondering ‘who’s left?!’ That’s an awesome question. Well… I’ve only been taking it easy on you as a favor to a friend of mine… and he’s gone.” At the thinly veiled mention of Drayden, the crowd cheered for a bit, before it faded into boos. DRAYDEN WANTED THIS BITCH TO BE FRONT AND CENTER? Yeah, he did. Roddy was quick to keep going though, “You know what that means? Means it’s showtime, princess. You are gonna defend that title in a triple threat match against Sydney Ellis and Morgana at the same damn time. No champion’s advantage, no disqualification, no count outs. Figure this one out.” With that, the screen faded and Barbie was left alone to react.
She didn’t. At least not at first. As the crowd cheered, they had time to celebrate without paying attention as Barbie stared at the titantron in shock. Then, with a shaky hand, she took off her sunglasses, and got to her feet. She raised the mic to her mouth. "NO! YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME, YOU SON OF A BI-” She began to scream hysterically, before the mic cut off. At this final straw, she threw the mic to the floor, tore the flower from her hair and threw that to the floor to join the mic, and then returned to the deckchair and flipped it over violently. Seething, in the middle of the ring, in a bikini, her hair now a mess, Barbie continued to scream her protests at the titantron, though nobody could hear a word she was saying. | is no monster under your bed, because I'm right here.
6”8 – 130kg| Eight Years Of Experience
|Birth Name |
»Andrew Gosforth
|Hails From |
»Paisley, Scotland
»April 7th, 1986 (31)
|Fighting Style |
» Hector is a large man, and as such has a large arsenal of power moves, but what sets him apart from other powerhouses is his in-ring psychology, mindgames and theatrics. In his gimmick’s newest incarnation, will sometimes hurt himself just to unnerve his opponent, as well as relish in the pain of his opponent instead of fighting to win quickly. A Hector match can be an uncomfortable watch, and sometimes won’t even feel PG even though it breaks no rules.
|Signature Moves |
» Daddy’s Awake (Spear/Double Leg Takedown hybrid with theatrics)
» Nightmare Drop
» Chokeslam Backbreaker
» Lifting Spinebuster
|Finisher |
» Straightjacket Neckbreaker
» Dreamcatcher
|Theme |
» Old Theme:
» New Theme:
|Backstage Rep |
»’Hector’ had enjoyed success as a big guy with the gimmick of an insane slasher villain, though this translated to cheesy effects, mind games and blackout attacks every other week. He was never a world champion though he did briefly hold the IC belt, and had an upper-card feud with Drayden during one of the rare instances when he wasn’t champion or challenging for the championship. This all came to an end over a year ago when Andrew had to go through a messy divorce, and took time off to return to Scotland and deal with that. He was written off TV by being set of fire from one of the chemicals of Dr. Sinister off the back of a feud with The creation, and then he was gone.
Several months ago, he came back for training, and to people’s surprise, it’s as if he was never gone. She’s the same old chatty, friendly big scot who enjoys a drink, and he had very little ring rust. He fell back into place in the AWE machine and is now ready to return to the ring, though his debut is still being held off until after the tournament. Personally, Andrew isn’t sure his character still fits in with an industry that’s gearing towards a more realistic, MMA style populated by small, fast guys with realistic names and characters, or maybe that just means he’s needed more than ever.
|Gimmick |
» Hector’s new gimmick is far more genuinely scary and intense than his old one. He is now a deranged psychopath, and even though there are still blackout attacks and lighting effects, Hector is framed less of a supernatural monster than he was in his previous run and far more of an ordinary albeit twisted and deranged human, and therefore all the more unsettling for it, as he seems real now. He will wear creepy masks, give nonsensical promos that make the interviewer uncomfortable, stalk his feuding opponents backstage in skits and during their promos, ect. His mindgames are a thing of beauty now. Rather than before, where every opponent would get the same thing (dolls, abandoned asylums, little girls), now each feud’s mindgames are tailored towards the fears and insecurities of his opponents and a big deal will be made of him getting inside their heads.
|Face or Heel |
» Indiscriminate Heel
|Other |
» Face Claim – Rory McCann |
49,093 | 1,325 | 0 | 1,046 | 4,332 | Day One: Welcome to the Sumpter Estate
It is a warm day in Elizabeth, NC. Elizabeth waits for her friends to arrive rather impatiently. The skies are clear blue, the wind gentle and calm. In the center of town there is a farmer's market and the town is bustling, but on the Sumpter Estate, all is calm and quiet, for now. Soon to be arriving will be a good number of Elizabeth's friends to spend the summer. Madam Kleine is walking around the living room, cleaning as she waits for guests to arrive. | "I didn't lose. I just found a million ways that won't work."
Name Lance Aaron Peterson
Age 18
"You mean, you don't love my dance moves? Sad."
Indepth Appearance
Lance is tall, standing at a towering 6'2 and refuses to tell people how much he weighs. "It's all muscle anyway..." he'd say. He has short dark brown hair and dark, almost black, brown eyes. His eyes are spread very far apart and are very narrow. He has a very wide and large smile when he decides to let others see it. His shoulders are wide, like his father and brother like him. He is very well fitted from a lot of exercise and working out and he takes much pride in his body.
He has no scars on his body, something else he also takes pride in. Despite all of the fights he's gotten into, he still hasn't received any scarring. His skin is very soft and porcelain white.
"I'm so afraid of losing something that I love, that I refuse to love anything." - Jonathan Safrantoer
Personality
• Cocky • Playful • Insecure •
Lance is cocky, mean, and playful. He loves messing with people and making them squirm. He doesn't often pick fights with his 'friend group' but isn't opposed to knocking some teeth in when prompted. There are a few people he will not mess with, however. He refuses to mess with Amelia and Marcus. Amelia because he honestly can't bring himself to mess with such a pure person. Most often he just ignores her, but would protect her without a second thought.
Marcus is different. Lance wouldn't exactly call himself a closet gay, but he doesn't exactly broadcast it like Marcus does. In fact, Lance is actually bisexual, very easily swinging it both ways. He still can't bring himself to keep a relationship for more than a few months, however. He always managing to fuck something up and push the other person away. His insecurities are very, very deeply seated and he is so afraid of losing something he loves to the point of not wanting to love anything. Which is why he tends to either mess with others or steer clear of them. The only person he is completely comfortable around is Eva, who often sees the more vulnerable side of him even if she strongly dislikes whenever he does.
Lance is a sweet guy on the inside, but in his attempts to keep people at a distance, he often comes off as the asshole. The thing he fears most in the world is that if he actually starts to become attached to someone they would stab him in the back or worse, something terrible would happen to them. Despite this, Lance has taken a vow for himself to always tell the truth, even if it's the blunt truth (hence why he gets along with Eva so well). It does often bite him in the ass, however. When he doesn't want to tell the truth, he often just shuts up and refuses to speak.
Lance does have a bit of a mean streak, however. And when he goes into a fight, he goes for blood. He's pretty easy to anger, even if he is playful, and often lashes out in ways that he doesn't mean to. He is, however, quick to admit when he's in the wrong, even if he hates doing so.
"Keep the ones that heard you when you never said a word."-Unknown
Backstory
Lance grew up in South Korea, which is why his accent still shines through a bit when he talks with his friends. Being the son of a massive business tycoon meant that Lance had to deal with a lot of pressure being placed on him, from his mother and brothers. His father was always very laid back and smiled whenever he saw him. The only siblings he ever found that he got along with were the outcasts. Henry, the bastard son, and eventually Eva, the daughter switched at birth. He never got along with Ana and loathed ever moment with his other brothers, Adam and Colin. They always fought with him every chance they got, taking every opportunity to prove how much better they were than him at literally everything. Whenever he brought it up to his father, he would simply shrug his shoulders like it wasn't his problem to deal with and smile like it would all be okay. His brothers would often leave bruises on Lance's body and the one day that his mother, Maria, noticed them, she told him to bulk up. He needed to learn to defend himself if he was ever going to live in this business.
When he was in middle school, Lance had the opportunity to handle some of the businesses affairs and blundered it up so badly that his mother decided he would do better if he were on his own. So, Lance was sent to America, to the US branch of their company where he lived with his uncle. Not only had he been abandoned, but he felt so utterly betrayed, especially by his uncle who often stole money from Lance, money Lance had earned on his own. By high school, Lance had had enough and wasn't much one for making friends. He did get close to one person, however. And his name was Ryan. Ryan was Lance's best friend and they did nearly everything together. Things weren't meant to be so peachy keen, however. As their relationship developed from one of friendship to that of something a bit more, Ryan was kidnapped by men from Korea aiming at getting back at Lance's dad by getting his vulnerable son. They'd made a mistake however, and mistook Ryan (who also looked asian) in place of Lance. Ryan nearly lost his life and Lance's father never came to get him despite the ransom calls. Lance fought hard to free Ryan from them, and eventually someone came and called the police but that was after Ryan had been thrown from a car and beaten into a coma. A year later, Ryan passed away in his coma, starting a long, long depression for Lance. Since then, Lance has refused to get close to anyone, for fear of something happening to them because of his family or by betrayal. He's chalk it up to his inability to trust literally anyone at all. Every relationship he's had since that point, he's always pushed the other person away by one means or another. He mostly just can't seem to let himself love anyone.
He'd always been talked at by Elizabeth but never really listened to her. But by senior year, he gave up and spent a few days hanging out with their group. He still doesn't get very close to any of them, but he does like to keep his eyes on Eva, trying to protect her from any attacks.
"It hurt because it mattered."-John Green
Future Plans
- Play baseball professionally
Likes/Dislikes
Action Movies
Spicy Foods
Animals
Sleeping
Rain
Attractive People
Family
Betrayal
Overly Sweet Foods
Bright Lights
Being Unloved
Other
Truthfully - DNCE
Speaking truthfully,
I love you more than you love me.
Colorcode: Orchid
FC: Kim Woo Bin
"Just because my path is different doesn't mean I'm lost."
Alternate Image 1
Alternate Image 2
Name Elizabeth-Rose Kelly Sumpter
Age 19
Indepth Appearance
Petite and small, Elizabeth stands at 5" 5', rather tall for a female, and weighs a nearly weightless 127 pounds. Her high metabolism makes certain that no matter her food consumption, she never gains weight. Her doctor even cheered when she finally hit 100 pounds. Her skin is porcelain and smooth, a product of all the skin care products she's had access to her whole life. She does get the odd pimple or two but she can often use her creme to wipe it out within the week.
Elizabeth's soft pink hair is down to her shoulder blades, and has been dyed pink since she entered high school. She often pulls it into a ponytail when it begins to annoy her, and more often than not it does. Her hair is so light that it knots very easily and she has to make several trips to the bathroom to comb it if it's left down. If she goes outside, it's almost certain her hair is going up.
Her eyes appear almost blue in certain lights, but it's really a very pale shade of brown, hazel even. Around the iris of her eyes, there is a dark brown ring that highlights the color of her eyes. She often puts on mascara and eyeliner to make her eyes appear larger, something the likes about her eyes is their size and she likes to emphasize it.
The one blemish on Elizabeth's face appears in the form of a small black dot, a birthmark, just below her left eye (if looking from the front, it would be on the right). Sometimes, she will even use eyeliner to draw the dot into a heart, as if to say she wears her heart on her cheek. Though she often feels stupid doing so.
Personality
Elizabeth has always grown up getting whatever she wanted, so much so that she often felt badly for her friends who didn't get the same. She often shared her lunches, brought friends on trips overseas, and generally tried to share her good fortunes with them. She tries not to think about whether or not they're friends for her money or her personality, but she can't really ever be certain.
Elizabeth is a warm and soft individual, if soft can even be used to describe someone. She is generally soft spoken and smiles constantly. She's not often found in a bad mood, preferring to see the bright side of literally everything. She'll say whatever needs to be said to cheer up her friends, even if it means blaming herself.
Elizabeth's biggest flaw comes with her parents. They are probably the only people she ever gets upset around. Talks with her mom usually end in yelling matches and chats with her dad never really lasted very long. Whenever topics about parents ever come up, Elizabeth either avoids the conversation or pretends like it doesn't bother her that her parents are never around. After the topic is brought up or she's had a run in with either parent, Elizabeth will usually seclude herself somewhere to cry before emerging later to find solace in her friends. She doesn't share her burdens, rather wishing to deal with them on her own.
In school, Elizabeth is studious and despite her piercings and tattoos and hair she's pretty smart. She was one or two grades away from Salutatorian, and graduated with tons of awards and honors. Despite not making the grade for Salutatorian, Elizabeth still got many offers from many different colleges for mostly full or half rides, not that she needed the help but if she denied the help, her dad would have her hide.
Despite being soft spoken and studious, Elizabeth does have her comedic side and likes to crack jokes and use sarcasm to battle unwanted conversation or to simply cause giggles within the group. She likes to see people happy and will often do whatever she can to make it happen.
Backstory
Elizabeth has grown up with a silver spoon in her mouth, whether she likes it or not. She wasn't a planned child and her mother made certain Elizabeth was aware of it by the time Elizabeth was old enough to even understand. Her parents were never home, always either at work, on vacation, or on business trips. Her dad is an accountant, a shareholder of the firm he'd been working at and her mother was a rather world famous fashion designer, Vivian Rose (her alias, her real name is Margaret Sumpter, and Elizabeth always makes it a point to call her Maggie on the phone since it upsets her so much).
Elizabeth, despite her parent's absence, found joy in her grandfather's presence. She often had the drivers take her to his home, where she would spend weeks before being forced to return. The Sumpter Estate was actually originally his property and when he passed away when Elizabeth was 12 years old, she was given the home in his will, along with a few other knick-knacks and gardening supplies. It was from this man, and his second wife, that Elizabeth found her love for plants and gardens, and crocheting. Since his death, she'd gone to the home every month to check on the garden and green house. Since, she's been studying to become a botanist and work for a science company to improve farms and green houses around the US, as well as own her own.
In school, finding good friends was always hard for Elizabeth. Most people only wanted to befriend her for the money that came with her but there were a few that she found that generally enjoyed being around her as much as she enjoyed being around them.
Future Plans
-Go to Duke University and earn a BA in Botany
-Apply for Masters degree at Princeton in Chemistry
-Join BoTech as a scientist and evaluator of farms and greenhouses.
Likes/Dislikes
Indie/Instrumental/Latin/Oriental Music
Junk Food
Friends
Plants
Flowers
Family
Betrayal
Winter
Squirrels/Raccoons
Metal Genre of Music
Other
There is a pet dog on the estate named Frodo. He is very friendly and loves everyone willing to pet him. He barks at strangers until he realizes they mean no harm but hates children as the neighbor's kids used to terrorize him. Frodo is 6 years old.
"Everything is possible with sunshine and a little pink."
Elizabeth's Relationship Sheet
Elizabeth - "I try to be the best person I can be every day, though I know I'm not perfect. I do try to combat that fact by giving what I can to others." "I met myself when I first saw my reflection! ;)"
1. What are your names?
"Am I suppose to have more than one name? Well, I only have one and it's Elizabeth Rose-Kelly Sumpter."
2. Do you know why you were named that?
"Mom liked it? Dad really didn't have much say in the matter. The only the thing mattered to him was already automatic, so he just let Mom have her way."
3. What are you?
"What an... odd question. I'm me? Do you mean to ask if I'm human? Because I think that's painfully clear when you look at me."
4. What's your gender?
"Female."
5. How old are you?
"Nineteen."
6. What do you think your life expectancy is?
"Another weird question. Probably like 80? My grandfather lived to about 83 before he passed, so I guess that's a good a marker as any."
7. What's your height?
"Pretty average, I'd say. I'm 5 feet, 5 inches tall."
8. What's your eye color?
"Hazel, though they can appear blue in certain lights."
9. How about hair color?
"Blonde but I started dying it pink before high school."
10. Do you think you're attractive?
"I think I am, but I don't spend too much time trying to impress anyone so it's not like I really care. I care more about how other people feel just not necessarily about me."
11. Do you have any features that you want to get rid of, if you could?
"The dot on my face, though I do feel like it's a part of me. But still, it's kind of annoying."
12. How would you introduce yourself? If you are famous in your world, how would you introduce yourself to someone who had never heard of you?
"My world? Famous? ...Okay. Well, I'm Elizabeth and I really like meeting new people."
13. Have any abilities or powers?
"P-Powers? I guess you could say I have a green thumb but I don't think that's a power more of a skill... developed over time. You guys are weird with these odd questions..."
14. Stop being a Mary-sue!
"A mary-what? What the heck is a Mary-Sue? That's not my name."
15. What do you usually wear?
"Clothes? Anything that's comfortable, really. I like wearing t-shirts and long sleeve shirts with jeans, mostly. I'm not really a skirt or dress kind of girl. I like wearing my hair up in a pony-tail too much it often just sort of gets in the way. I wear it down when I want to look cute though."
16. Do you ever walk around naked?
"Sometimes. Depends on who's going to end up seeing me like that and I don't often go full nude."
17. Ever cross-dressed before?
"Not intentionally. I do like men's clothes though, really comfortable."
18. What do you wear to bed?
"These questions are erring on the side of creepy now, to be honest... But I normally wear underwear and a t-shirt to bed."
19. What's in your pockets right now?
"My phone, a pocket knife, and pocket fuzz..."
20. To what social class do you belong?
"...The upper class."
21. What is your job?
"I'm unemployed at the moment."
22. What is your lifelong dream?
"To help as many people as I can in whatever way I can."
23. What is your worst nightmare?
"Being honestly and utterly alone."
24. How honest are you about your thoughts and feelings (i.e. do you hide your true self from others, and in what way)?
"I tend to keep my problems to myself so I don't inconvenience my friends. They don't need to hear about my problems because they have enough of their own."
25. What's one thing you like and one thing you dislike about your personality?
"I guess... I like my friendly nature but I dislike my inability to take care of myself. I foten get caught up in helping others that I forsake my own happiness. Sometimes it gets to the point where I think I might develop depression later, but that's just speculation. Besides, I don't think depression works that way."
26. What do you do on a regular basis?
"Garden, really."
27. Do you have any activities/hobbies that you like to do?
"...Gardening. I also like to crochet and binge watch netflix..."
28. That's cool, I guess. Now tell me something you don't like.
"You're rude... I don't like rude people."
29. What are you most afraid of?
"Being alone."
30. Have any secrets?
"I keep a lot of things secret like my problems and issues, but I guess if I had to say a secret I do keep... Nah. Then it wouldn't be a secret anymore."
31. Name your worst habits?
"Is that a question or a statement? I can't tell... I guess... Well, I eat a lot. Like... all day long, I'm always hungry. Is that a habit? I'm not sure."
32. Any nasty indulgences, like smoking or gambling?
"Uhhh... is chocolate an indulgence? Tumblr? Pinterest? Netflix? If so, yes."
33. Have any of you ever done illegal things knowingly (don't include petty things like jaywalking)? What were they?
"Okay but I'm the only one here... No, I've never done anything illegal."
34. Are you one to hold a grudge?
"No."
35. What do you do when you're upset?
"What kind of upset? Angry upset? Crying upset? Because it's different for each. If I'm angry, I tend to read or color to try and calm myself down. When I'm really sad, I tend to just... sleep it off."
36. What's one thing that could potentially cause you to go into a blind rage?
"Hurt my friends and I might actually murder someone."
37. Is there anything you absolutely refuse to do under any circumstances? Why do you refuse to do it?
"That last question I sort of lied. I would never, ever ever kill any living thing by my own hands. I'm not saying I won't eat a burger, but I won't ever kill a cow with my own hands."
38. What's your preferred weapon of choice?
"Kindness."
39. What is your favorite colour?
"Pink."
40. Favorite drink?
"Sweet tea."
41. Alright. What's your favorite food?
"Watermelon."
42. What are your thoughts on pie?
"Apple or nothin'."
43. What's your favorite ice cream flavor?
"Cookie dough, please."
44. Where are you from?
"North Carolina."
45. What's your favorite place?
"The Sumpter Estate's garden."
46. What's your least favorite place?
"'Home.'"
47. Where do you wish you could be right now, regardless of whether it's real or not?
"That's easy. Hogwarts."
48. What is the first thing you tend to notice when you first meet someone?
"Hair. I don't know why, I just do."
49. What is your favorite season?
"Fall."
50. Do you believe in love at first sight?
"I have no reason not to."
51. Gay, straight, or bi?
"Straight as far as I'm aware. I've never thought of being with girls before..."
52. Are you interested in anyone?
53. What do you look for in a partner?
54. What's your idea of a perfect date?
55. Are you single or taken?
56. Are you a virgin?
57. Have you ever kissed anyone? If so, who was your first? Who was your last?
58. What is your favorite thing to touch?
59. Ever wanna marry and have kids one day?
60. Have any family members?
61. Oh? How about pets?
62. How many friends do you have?
63. If the one you cared most about in your life were to somehow die today, how would you react and what would you do?
64. Do you look up to anyone at all?
65. Do you hate anyone?
66. Who is your worst enemy?
67. Have you ever hurt anyone in anyway before?
68. Ever... killed anyone before?
69. Under what circumstances do you think killing someone justified, in general?
70. Are you wanted for anything?
71. Uh... if you were to get in a fight with a strong wrestler, do you think you'd win?
72. What's one of your fondest childhood memories?
73. If you could go back and change one thing about the past, would you? What would you change?
74. What kind of animal are you most like?
75. Do/did you go to school?
76. Do you have fangirls/fanboys?
77. If you're a girl, what's your cup size? If you're a guy, how big are you?
78. What's one phrase you overuse?
79. Would you rather swim in a lake or the ocean?
80. Have you ever gone skinny dipping?
81. How long can you stay under water?
82. Any fetishes?
83. Seme or uke?
84. Which do you like more, sad stories or happy stories?
85. Camping or indoors?
86. Do you like to sing or dance?
87. To what degree do you avoid risks and danger?
88. What makes you vulnerable?
89. Under what circumstance would you risk your own life for someone else?
90. How would you describe your current adventuring companions to a friend you trust?
91. What do you do to relax?
92. What's the best piece of advice you've ever had?
93. Name three things you consider yourself to be very good at, and three things you consider yourself to be very bad at.
94. If you could choose, how would you want to die?
95. If you knew you were going to die in 24 hours, name three things you would do in the time you had left.
96. What's one word that best describes you?
97. What would you do if you could meet your creator?
98. What are your impressions about the other interviewees?
99. Do you even want to be here?
100. What do you spend most of your time doing?
"Broken crayons still color."-Unknown
Name Geneva Ivy Rose
Age 18
"There is no angry way to say bubbles."-Unknown
Indepth Appearance
Eva is a petite asian female, standing at 5'2", weighing a mere 96 lbs. Her hair is long, soft, and in certain lights appears almost strawberry brown. Her skin is like porcelain and her face is oval in shape. Her face is small but healthy in that it is thin but still full of life. Her smile is small and her expressions soft. (This doesn't mean she always looks as graceful as she does in her photos.)
The one blemish on her skin comes in the form of a scar on the back of her head. The scar has been with her as long as she can remember and was the product of a rather serious accident where she fell from a bridge and her head hit the bottom of the river.
"If there are no ups and downs in your life, it means you're dead."-Unknown
Personality
• Silly • Confident • Blunt •
Eva is a playful girl and likes to laugh and have fun. Summer and Spring are her favorite seasons and people that can match her energy are her favorite kinds of people. She is comfortable in her own skin, though like everyone she has her fair share of insecurities.
Eva fears that she is lost. She fears that when death knocks on her door, she will reflect back on her life and not like it. That she won't accomplish anything worth-while. She fears becoming the kind of people she hates, that is those that do nothing but play around with others.
Eva is also very blunt. She is very much a "Won't take shit." kind of person. This doesn't mean she's no-nonsense. Eva just knows when to stop someone from crossing the line. She believes firmly that if you don't clearly draw the lines for someone, you will never gain respect from them. She doesn't take disrespect very well, be it for herself or for others.
Eva also behaves very much like a vigilante. She loves to be a protector and will often put herself in situations where she becomes the target to protect the little person. She knows that she can handle a beating, when others maybe can't. She is very strong-willed, though she'll cry when alone (something she got from her mother, Maria). Even if it means much more pain later, she'd rather stand tall in front of everyone, and collapse later when alone.
"I must be a mermaid. I have no fear of depths, and a great fear of shallow living."-Anais Nin
Backstory
Eva was born to rich parents but under odd circumstances she was separated from them. When Eva was born, she looked very much like another baby that was also born that day, same time, same weight, everything. They were so identical at birth that when the nurses went to put Eva back in her crib, she accidentally placed her in Eva (Eva's real name is Annalise Peterson). It took a few years for Maria to realize that her daughter looked nothing like her and a quick check confirmed her suspicions.
A year later, Eva was brought to her parents where she would be forced to live. Eva, however, had other ideas. She refused to be called Ana and often ran away from home to go back to who she considered her real family, her grandmother. Eventually, the king and queen decided it was in their daughter's best interest to let her do as she pleased. They would get nowhere confining her. Maria was quoted to have said, "She's so much like me that keeping her without her consent is practically impossible if I want to keep a good relationship with her."
Years later, on Eva's 17th birthday, her grandmother passed away. Since she's been living with her real parents rather reluctantly. Eva had been introduced to Elizabeth via her real parents when she was younger and always held a distaste for the girl until they got to know one another. She soon realized that she and Elizabeth were actually more similar than they were different, Elizabeth just handle the whole 'rich' title better than Eva did. Elizabeth soon included Eva in all of the friend-outings and Eva grew close to them, considering them her new family.
"A lack of boundaries invites a lack of respect."-Unknown
Future Plans
- Eva has no future plans as of right now. She's living job to job, trying to figure it all out.
Likes/Dislikes
Sunshine
Spicy Foods
Movies
Strawberries
Flowers
Books
Disrespect
Animals
Overly Sweet Foods
Grayscale Colors
Family
Being Lost (Fear)
Accomplishing Nothing (Fear)
Water (Fear)
Other
I Ain't Your Momma - J-Lo
When you're gon' get your act together?
I ain't your mama
No, I ain't your mama
No, I ain't your mama, no
Colorcode: Coral
FC: Park Shin Hye
"He offered her the world. She replied, 'I have my own.'"-Unknown
Eva's Relationship Sheet
Eva - "Lack of direction in life, floater, generally doesn't have her shit together. But I make a mean chocolate pancake, so there's that." "I'm pretty sure I still don't know who I am."
Name Sarah Kleine
Age A woman never tells her age!
Indepth Appearance
Madam Kleine is a beautiful woman who holds herself to a certain standard. She often described as someone who is very... soothing. She is comfortable in her skin and it shows. She stands in a relax manner, often holding herself upright and tall, despite her already tall body. She embraces the wrinkles on her skin, calling each one a wonderful and loving memory. She will often joke and say that "this wrinkle represents the day my husband brought home that god-awful puppy." or "This wrinkle is the day my son brought home his first wife. And this one is the second. And this one is the third," all the while grinning and laughing.
Madam Kleine is a well rounded woman, having already seen much of the world in her youth. She loves life and all who live in hers, and it shows. She is often seen is very fashionable clothing, but also always seems to be comfortable in what she wears. It isn't that her clothes are fashionable, it's that she, herself, makes them fashionable in her countenance, in her walk. Never has anyone called her, "Grandma."
Personality
Sweet as can be but tough enough to tell you the truth, Madam Kleine is everyone's grandmother all while never being a grandmother at all. She loves to gossip with the girls but also holds herself to a certain standard. She'll never shy away from playing a game of COD or SSMB with the guys.
Many people would tell you she is a young soul in an older body, but she would gladly disagree with you. She just claims that she just found the secret of life, enjoy it as much as possible and take every opportunity to live your life within reason.
Backstory
A former wife and mother, Madam Kleine has since lost all of her family, saying goodbye to them before their time. Now, she spends her time taking care of the Sumpter family, the family of her sister-in-law. She retired from her job as a fashion designer and became the family's maid.
Future Plans
-Support the Sumpter family for as long as she is able.
Likes/Dislikes
Outdoors
Novels (Romance especially)
Art
Sweet foods
Animals
Cold Temperatures
Water (Swimming)
Spicy foods
Nonfiction
Sewing
Other
"My only advice to you is this... If you want to be a Queen, you must first act like one."
Sarah's Relationship Sheet
Sarah - "I am the queen of my life." "I think I truly met myself when I was forced to live on my own, without my side kicks." |
49,094 | 1,325 | 1 | 1,046 | 4,332 | Humming a random tune, Elizabeth dressed for the day, the light from the sun cascading into her room, casting a warm glow on everything. Her room was pretty simple, for a rich girl, and probably a bit messier than most would expect. Not many of them had been in any of her many rooms, especially this one, which she would probably claim to be her one true room.
There were posters covering nearly every inch of the pale lavender walls, all of them of bands, games, or inspirational phrases. Her bed was pretty normal too, for a rich girl. Most would expect a four post bed with drapes and the whole nine, but nah. Elizabeth had asked for something simple. It was a queen bed and her comforter was yellow and gray and pale, matching her walls. There were clothes strewn about the room, one article of which was draped over the flat screen TV on her dresser, which had knocked over the Wii's sensor bar. She had the Wii up here for her favorite game in the entire world, Twilight Princess (And Harvest Moon but shhh), and the Wii U downstairs for all of the party games.
Finally satisfactorily clothed in jeans and a t-shirt, Elizabeth bounded down the stairs to the second floor. She smiled at the stick-note 'nameplates' on everyone's room. She was hoping the others would be up for decorating their doors. It would be nice to see everyone's personality on the door to their rooms.
After a few minutes of bugging Madam Kleine and sitting around in the living room, her lack of patience got the better of her and she raced down to the garden to work with Henry, the gardener. The garden here had always been something she'd down with her grandfather and since his passing, she spend pretty much any free time she has up-keeping it.
Madam Kleine smirked as she watched the young lady shoot out the door. One day she would be a good hostess, today was not that day. | "I didn't lose. I just found a million ways that won't work."
Name Lance Aaron Peterson
Age 18
"You mean, you don't love my dance moves? Sad."
Indepth Appearance
Lance is tall, standing at a towering 6'2 and refuses to tell people how much he weighs. "It's all muscle anyway..." he'd say. He has short dark brown hair and dark, almost black, brown eyes. His eyes are spread very far apart and are very narrow. He has a very wide and large smile when he decides to let others see it. His shoulders are wide, like his father and brother like him. He is very well fitted from a lot of exercise and working out and he takes much pride in his body.
He has no scars on his body, something else he also takes pride in. Despite all of the fights he's gotten into, he still hasn't received any scarring. His skin is very soft and porcelain white.
"I'm so afraid of losing something that I love, that I refuse to love anything." - Jonathan Safrantoer
Personality
• Cocky • Playful • Insecure •
Lance is cocky, mean, and playful. He loves messing with people and making them squirm. He doesn't often pick fights with his 'friend group' but isn't opposed to knocking some teeth in when prompted. There are a few people he will not mess with, however. He refuses to mess with Amelia and Marcus. Amelia because he honestly can't bring himself to mess with such a pure person. Most often he just ignores her, but would protect her without a second thought.
Marcus is different. Lance wouldn't exactly call himself a closet gay, but he doesn't exactly broadcast it like Marcus does. In fact, Lance is actually bisexual, very easily swinging it both ways. He still can't bring himself to keep a relationship for more than a few months, however. He always managing to fuck something up and push the other person away. His insecurities are very, very deeply seated and he is so afraid of losing something he loves to the point of not wanting to love anything. Which is why he tends to either mess with others or steer clear of them. The only person he is completely comfortable around is Eva, who often sees the more vulnerable side of him even if she strongly dislikes whenever he does.
Lance is a sweet guy on the inside, but in his attempts to keep people at a distance, he often comes off as the asshole. The thing he fears most in the world is that if he actually starts to become attached to someone they would stab him in the back or worse, something terrible would happen to them. Despite this, Lance has taken a vow for himself to always tell the truth, even if it's the blunt truth (hence why he gets along with Eva so well). It does often bite him in the ass, however. When he doesn't want to tell the truth, he often just shuts up and refuses to speak.
Lance does have a bit of a mean streak, however. And when he goes into a fight, he goes for blood. He's pretty easy to anger, even if he is playful, and often lashes out in ways that he doesn't mean to. He is, however, quick to admit when he's in the wrong, even if he hates doing so.
"Keep the ones that heard you when you never said a word."-Unknown
Backstory
Lance grew up in South Korea, which is why his accent still shines through a bit when he talks with his friends. Being the son of a massive business tycoon meant that Lance had to deal with a lot of pressure being placed on him, from his mother and brothers. His father was always very laid back and smiled whenever he saw him. The only siblings he ever found that he got along with were the outcasts. Henry, the bastard son, and eventually Eva, the daughter switched at birth. He never got along with Ana and loathed ever moment with his other brothers, Adam and Colin. They always fought with him every chance they got, taking every opportunity to prove how much better they were than him at literally everything. Whenever he brought it up to his father, he would simply shrug his shoulders like it wasn't his problem to deal with and smile like it would all be okay. His brothers would often leave bruises on Lance's body and the one day that his mother, Maria, noticed them, she told him to bulk up. He needed to learn to defend himself if he was ever going to live in this business.
When he was in middle school, Lance had the opportunity to handle some of the businesses affairs and blundered it up so badly that his mother decided he would do better if he were on his own. So, Lance was sent to America, to the US branch of their company where he lived with his uncle. Not only had he been abandoned, but he felt so utterly betrayed, especially by his uncle who often stole money from Lance, money Lance had earned on his own. By high school, Lance had had enough and wasn't much one for making friends. He did get close to one person, however. And his name was Ryan. Ryan was Lance's best friend and they did nearly everything together. Things weren't meant to be so peachy keen, however. As their relationship developed from one of friendship to that of something a bit more, Ryan was kidnapped by men from Korea aiming at getting back at Lance's dad by getting his vulnerable son. They'd made a mistake however, and mistook Ryan (who also looked asian) in place of Lance. Ryan nearly lost his life and Lance's father never came to get him despite the ransom calls. Lance fought hard to free Ryan from them, and eventually someone came and called the police but that was after Ryan had been thrown from a car and beaten into a coma. A year later, Ryan passed away in his coma, starting a long, long depression for Lance. Since then, Lance has refused to get close to anyone, for fear of something happening to them because of his family or by betrayal. He's chalk it up to his inability to trust literally anyone at all. Every relationship he's had since that point, he's always pushed the other person away by one means or another. He mostly just can't seem to let himself love anyone.
He'd always been talked at by Elizabeth but never really listened to her. But by senior year, he gave up and spent a few days hanging out with their group. He still doesn't get very close to any of them, but he does like to keep his eyes on Eva, trying to protect her from any attacks.
"It hurt because it mattered."-John Green
Future Plans
- Play baseball professionally
Likes/Dislikes
Action Movies
Spicy Foods
Animals
Sleeping
Rain
Attractive People
Family
Betrayal
Overly Sweet Foods
Bright Lights
Being Unloved
Other
Truthfully - DNCE
Speaking truthfully,
I love you more than you love me.
Colorcode: Orchid
FC: Kim Woo Bin
"Just because my path is different doesn't mean I'm lost."
Alternate Image 1
Alternate Image 2
Name Elizabeth-Rose Kelly Sumpter
Age 19
Indepth Appearance
Petite and small, Elizabeth stands at 5" 5', rather tall for a female, and weighs a nearly weightless 127 pounds. Her high metabolism makes certain that no matter her food consumption, she never gains weight. Her doctor even cheered when she finally hit 100 pounds. Her skin is porcelain and smooth, a product of all the skin care products she's had access to her whole life. She does get the odd pimple or two but she can often use her creme to wipe it out within the week.
Elizabeth's soft pink hair is down to her shoulder blades, and has been dyed pink since she entered high school. She often pulls it into a ponytail when it begins to annoy her, and more often than not it does. Her hair is so light that it knots very easily and she has to make several trips to the bathroom to comb it if it's left down. If she goes outside, it's almost certain her hair is going up.
Her eyes appear almost blue in certain lights, but it's really a very pale shade of brown, hazel even. Around the iris of her eyes, there is a dark brown ring that highlights the color of her eyes. She often puts on mascara and eyeliner to make her eyes appear larger, something the likes about her eyes is their size and she likes to emphasize it.
The one blemish on Elizabeth's face appears in the form of a small black dot, a birthmark, just below her left eye (if looking from the front, it would be on the right). Sometimes, she will even use eyeliner to draw the dot into a heart, as if to say she wears her heart on her cheek. Though she often feels stupid doing so.
Personality
Elizabeth has always grown up getting whatever she wanted, so much so that she often felt badly for her friends who didn't get the same. She often shared her lunches, brought friends on trips overseas, and generally tried to share her good fortunes with them. She tries not to think about whether or not they're friends for her money or her personality, but she can't really ever be certain.
Elizabeth is a warm and soft individual, if soft can even be used to describe someone. She is generally soft spoken and smiles constantly. She's not often found in a bad mood, preferring to see the bright side of literally everything. She'll say whatever needs to be said to cheer up her friends, even if it means blaming herself.
Elizabeth's biggest flaw comes with her parents. They are probably the only people she ever gets upset around. Talks with her mom usually end in yelling matches and chats with her dad never really lasted very long. Whenever topics about parents ever come up, Elizabeth either avoids the conversation or pretends like it doesn't bother her that her parents are never around. After the topic is brought up or she's had a run in with either parent, Elizabeth will usually seclude herself somewhere to cry before emerging later to find solace in her friends. She doesn't share her burdens, rather wishing to deal with them on her own.
In school, Elizabeth is studious and despite her piercings and tattoos and hair she's pretty smart. She was one or two grades away from Salutatorian, and graduated with tons of awards and honors. Despite not making the grade for Salutatorian, Elizabeth still got many offers from many different colleges for mostly full or half rides, not that she needed the help but if she denied the help, her dad would have her hide.
Despite being soft spoken and studious, Elizabeth does have her comedic side and likes to crack jokes and use sarcasm to battle unwanted conversation or to simply cause giggles within the group. She likes to see people happy and will often do whatever she can to make it happen.
Backstory
Elizabeth has grown up with a silver spoon in her mouth, whether she likes it or not. She wasn't a planned child and her mother made certain Elizabeth was aware of it by the time Elizabeth was old enough to even understand. Her parents were never home, always either at work, on vacation, or on business trips. Her dad is an accountant, a shareholder of the firm he'd been working at and her mother was a rather world famous fashion designer, Vivian Rose (her alias, her real name is Margaret Sumpter, and Elizabeth always makes it a point to call her Maggie on the phone since it upsets her so much).
Elizabeth, despite her parent's absence, found joy in her grandfather's presence. She often had the drivers take her to his home, where she would spend weeks before being forced to return. The Sumpter Estate was actually originally his property and when he passed away when Elizabeth was 12 years old, she was given the home in his will, along with a few other knick-knacks and gardening supplies. It was from this man, and his second wife, that Elizabeth found her love for plants and gardens, and crocheting. Since his death, she'd gone to the home every month to check on the garden and green house. Since, she's been studying to become a botanist and work for a science company to improve farms and green houses around the US, as well as own her own.
In school, finding good friends was always hard for Elizabeth. Most people only wanted to befriend her for the money that came with her but there were a few that she found that generally enjoyed being around her as much as she enjoyed being around them.
Future Plans
-Go to Duke University and earn a BA in Botany
-Apply for Masters degree at Princeton in Chemistry
-Join BoTech as a scientist and evaluator of farms and greenhouses.
Likes/Dislikes
Indie/Instrumental/Latin/Oriental Music
Junk Food
Friends
Plants
Flowers
Family
Betrayal
Winter
Squirrels/Raccoons
Metal Genre of Music
Other
There is a pet dog on the estate named Frodo. He is very friendly and loves everyone willing to pet him. He barks at strangers until he realizes they mean no harm but hates children as the neighbor's kids used to terrorize him. Frodo is 6 years old.
"Everything is possible with sunshine and a little pink."
Elizabeth's Relationship Sheet
Elizabeth - "I try to be the best person I can be every day, though I know I'm not perfect. I do try to combat that fact by giving what I can to others." "I met myself when I first saw my reflection! ;)"
1. What are your names?
"Am I suppose to have more than one name? Well, I only have one and it's Elizabeth Rose-Kelly Sumpter."
2. Do you know why you were named that?
"Mom liked it? Dad really didn't have much say in the matter. The only the thing mattered to him was already automatic, so he just let Mom have her way."
3. What are you?
"What an... odd question. I'm me? Do you mean to ask if I'm human? Because I think that's painfully clear when you look at me."
4. What's your gender?
"Female."
5. How old are you?
"Nineteen."
6. What do you think your life expectancy is?
"Another weird question. Probably like 80? My grandfather lived to about 83 before he passed, so I guess that's a good a marker as any."
7. What's your height?
"Pretty average, I'd say. I'm 5 feet, 5 inches tall."
8. What's your eye color?
"Hazel, though they can appear blue in certain lights."
9. How about hair color?
"Blonde but I started dying it pink before high school."
10. Do you think you're attractive?
"I think I am, but I don't spend too much time trying to impress anyone so it's not like I really care. I care more about how other people feel just not necessarily about me."
11. Do you have any features that you want to get rid of, if you could?
"The dot on my face, though I do feel like it's a part of me. But still, it's kind of annoying."
12. How would you introduce yourself? If you are famous in your world, how would you introduce yourself to someone who had never heard of you?
"My world? Famous? ...Okay. Well, I'm Elizabeth and I really like meeting new people."
13. Have any abilities or powers?
"P-Powers? I guess you could say I have a green thumb but I don't think that's a power more of a skill... developed over time. You guys are weird with these odd questions..."
14. Stop being a Mary-sue!
"A mary-what? What the heck is a Mary-Sue? That's not my name."
15. What do you usually wear?
"Clothes? Anything that's comfortable, really. I like wearing t-shirts and long sleeve shirts with jeans, mostly. I'm not really a skirt or dress kind of girl. I like wearing my hair up in a pony-tail too much it often just sort of gets in the way. I wear it down when I want to look cute though."
16. Do you ever walk around naked?
"Sometimes. Depends on who's going to end up seeing me like that and I don't often go full nude."
17. Ever cross-dressed before?
"Not intentionally. I do like men's clothes though, really comfortable."
18. What do you wear to bed?
"These questions are erring on the side of creepy now, to be honest... But I normally wear underwear and a t-shirt to bed."
19. What's in your pockets right now?
"My phone, a pocket knife, and pocket fuzz..."
20. To what social class do you belong?
"...The upper class."
21. What is your job?
"I'm unemployed at the moment."
22. What is your lifelong dream?
"To help as many people as I can in whatever way I can."
23. What is your worst nightmare?
"Being honestly and utterly alone."
24. How honest are you about your thoughts and feelings (i.e. do you hide your true self from others, and in what way)?
"I tend to keep my problems to myself so I don't inconvenience my friends. They don't need to hear about my problems because they have enough of their own."
25. What's one thing you like and one thing you dislike about your personality?
"I guess... I like my friendly nature but I dislike my inability to take care of myself. I foten get caught up in helping others that I forsake my own happiness. Sometimes it gets to the point where I think I might develop depression later, but that's just speculation. Besides, I don't think depression works that way."
26. What do you do on a regular basis?
"Garden, really."
27. Do you have any activities/hobbies that you like to do?
"...Gardening. I also like to crochet and binge watch netflix..."
28. That's cool, I guess. Now tell me something you don't like.
"You're rude... I don't like rude people."
29. What are you most afraid of?
"Being alone."
30. Have any secrets?
"I keep a lot of things secret like my problems and issues, but I guess if I had to say a secret I do keep... Nah. Then it wouldn't be a secret anymore."
31. Name your worst habits?
"Is that a question or a statement? I can't tell... I guess... Well, I eat a lot. Like... all day long, I'm always hungry. Is that a habit? I'm not sure."
32. Any nasty indulgences, like smoking or gambling?
"Uhhh... is chocolate an indulgence? Tumblr? Pinterest? Netflix? If so, yes."
33. Have any of you ever done illegal things knowingly (don't include petty things like jaywalking)? What were they?
"Okay but I'm the only one here... No, I've never done anything illegal."
34. Are you one to hold a grudge?
"No."
35. What do you do when you're upset?
"What kind of upset? Angry upset? Crying upset? Because it's different for each. If I'm angry, I tend to read or color to try and calm myself down. When I'm really sad, I tend to just... sleep it off."
36. What's one thing that could potentially cause you to go into a blind rage?
"Hurt my friends and I might actually murder someone."
37. Is there anything you absolutely refuse to do under any circumstances? Why do you refuse to do it?
"That last question I sort of lied. I would never, ever ever kill any living thing by my own hands. I'm not saying I won't eat a burger, but I won't ever kill a cow with my own hands."
38. What's your preferred weapon of choice?
"Kindness."
39. What is your favorite colour?
"Pink."
40. Favorite drink?
"Sweet tea."
41. Alright. What's your favorite food?
"Watermelon."
42. What are your thoughts on pie?
"Apple or nothin'."
43. What's your favorite ice cream flavor?
"Cookie dough, please."
44. Where are you from?
"North Carolina."
45. What's your favorite place?
"The Sumpter Estate's garden."
46. What's your least favorite place?
"'Home.'"
47. Where do you wish you could be right now, regardless of whether it's real or not?
"That's easy. Hogwarts."
48. What is the first thing you tend to notice when you first meet someone?
"Hair. I don't know why, I just do."
49. What is your favorite season?
"Fall."
50. Do you believe in love at first sight?
"I have no reason not to."
51. Gay, straight, or bi?
"Straight as far as I'm aware. I've never thought of being with girls before..."
52. Are you interested in anyone?
53. What do you look for in a partner?
54. What's your idea of a perfect date?
55. Are you single or taken?
56. Are you a virgin?
57. Have you ever kissed anyone? If so, who was your first? Who was your last?
58. What is your favorite thing to touch?
59. Ever wanna marry and have kids one day?
60. Have any family members?
61. Oh? How about pets?
62. How many friends do you have?
63. If the one you cared most about in your life were to somehow die today, how would you react and what would you do?
64. Do you look up to anyone at all?
65. Do you hate anyone?
66. Who is your worst enemy?
67. Have you ever hurt anyone in anyway before?
68. Ever... killed anyone before?
69. Under what circumstances do you think killing someone justified, in general?
70. Are you wanted for anything?
71. Uh... if you were to get in a fight with a strong wrestler, do you think you'd win?
72. What's one of your fondest childhood memories?
73. If you could go back and change one thing about the past, would you? What would you change?
74. What kind of animal are you most like?
75. Do/did you go to school?
76. Do you have fangirls/fanboys?
77. If you're a girl, what's your cup size? If you're a guy, how big are you?
78. What's one phrase you overuse?
79. Would you rather swim in a lake or the ocean?
80. Have you ever gone skinny dipping?
81. How long can you stay under water?
82. Any fetishes?
83. Seme or uke?
84. Which do you like more, sad stories or happy stories?
85. Camping or indoors?
86. Do you like to sing or dance?
87. To what degree do you avoid risks and danger?
88. What makes you vulnerable?
89. Under what circumstance would you risk your own life for someone else?
90. How would you describe your current adventuring companions to a friend you trust?
91. What do you do to relax?
92. What's the best piece of advice you've ever had?
93. Name three things you consider yourself to be very good at, and three things you consider yourself to be very bad at.
94. If you could choose, how would you want to die?
95. If you knew you were going to die in 24 hours, name three things you would do in the time you had left.
96. What's one word that best describes you?
97. What would you do if you could meet your creator?
98. What are your impressions about the other interviewees?
99. Do you even want to be here?
100. What do you spend most of your time doing?
"Broken crayons still color."-Unknown
Name Geneva Ivy Rose
Age 18
"There is no angry way to say bubbles."-Unknown
Indepth Appearance
Eva is a petite asian female, standing at 5'2", weighing a mere 96 lbs. Her hair is long, soft, and in certain lights appears almost strawberry brown. Her skin is like porcelain and her face is oval in shape. Her face is small but healthy in that it is thin but still full of life. Her smile is small and her expressions soft. (This doesn't mean she always looks as graceful as she does in her photos.)
The one blemish on her skin comes in the form of a scar on the back of her head. The scar has been with her as long as she can remember and was the product of a rather serious accident where she fell from a bridge and her head hit the bottom of the river.
"If there are no ups and downs in your life, it means you're dead."-Unknown
Personality
• Silly • Confident • Blunt •
Eva is a playful girl and likes to laugh and have fun. Summer and Spring are her favorite seasons and people that can match her energy are her favorite kinds of people. She is comfortable in her own skin, though like everyone she has her fair share of insecurities.
Eva fears that she is lost. She fears that when death knocks on her door, she will reflect back on her life and not like it. That she won't accomplish anything worth-while. She fears becoming the kind of people she hates, that is those that do nothing but play around with others.
Eva is also very blunt. She is very much a "Won't take shit." kind of person. This doesn't mean she's no-nonsense. Eva just knows when to stop someone from crossing the line. She believes firmly that if you don't clearly draw the lines for someone, you will never gain respect from them. She doesn't take disrespect very well, be it for herself or for others.
Eva also behaves very much like a vigilante. She loves to be a protector and will often put herself in situations where she becomes the target to protect the little person. She knows that she can handle a beating, when others maybe can't. She is very strong-willed, though she'll cry when alone (something she got from her mother, Maria). Even if it means much more pain later, she'd rather stand tall in front of everyone, and collapse later when alone.
"I must be a mermaid. I have no fear of depths, and a great fear of shallow living."-Anais Nin
Backstory
Eva was born to rich parents but under odd circumstances she was separated from them. When Eva was born, she looked very much like another baby that was also born that day, same time, same weight, everything. They were so identical at birth that when the nurses went to put Eva back in her crib, she accidentally placed her in Eva (Eva's real name is Annalise Peterson). It took a few years for Maria to realize that her daughter looked nothing like her and a quick check confirmed her suspicions.
A year later, Eva was brought to her parents where she would be forced to live. Eva, however, had other ideas. She refused to be called Ana and often ran away from home to go back to who she considered her real family, her grandmother. Eventually, the king and queen decided it was in their daughter's best interest to let her do as she pleased. They would get nowhere confining her. Maria was quoted to have said, "She's so much like me that keeping her without her consent is practically impossible if I want to keep a good relationship with her."
Years later, on Eva's 17th birthday, her grandmother passed away. Since she's been living with her real parents rather reluctantly. Eva had been introduced to Elizabeth via her real parents when she was younger and always held a distaste for the girl until they got to know one another. She soon realized that she and Elizabeth were actually more similar than they were different, Elizabeth just handle the whole 'rich' title better than Eva did. Elizabeth soon included Eva in all of the friend-outings and Eva grew close to them, considering them her new family.
"A lack of boundaries invites a lack of respect."-Unknown
Future Plans
- Eva has no future plans as of right now. She's living job to job, trying to figure it all out.
Likes/Dislikes
Sunshine
Spicy Foods
Movies
Strawberries
Flowers
Books
Disrespect
Animals
Overly Sweet Foods
Grayscale Colors
Family
Being Lost (Fear)
Accomplishing Nothing (Fear)
Water (Fear)
Other
I Ain't Your Momma - J-Lo
When you're gon' get your act together?
I ain't your mama
No, I ain't your mama
No, I ain't your mama, no
Colorcode: Coral
FC: Park Shin Hye
"He offered her the world. She replied, 'I have my own.'"-Unknown
Eva's Relationship Sheet
Eva - "Lack of direction in life, floater, generally doesn't have her shit together. But I make a mean chocolate pancake, so there's that." "I'm pretty sure I still don't know who I am."
Name Sarah Kleine
Age A woman never tells her age!
Indepth Appearance
Madam Kleine is a beautiful woman who holds herself to a certain standard. She often described as someone who is very... soothing. She is comfortable in her skin and it shows. She stands in a relax manner, often holding herself upright and tall, despite her already tall body. She embraces the wrinkles on her skin, calling each one a wonderful and loving memory. She will often joke and say that "this wrinkle represents the day my husband brought home that god-awful puppy." or "This wrinkle is the day my son brought home his first wife. And this one is the second. And this one is the third," all the while grinning and laughing.
Madam Kleine is a well rounded woman, having already seen much of the world in her youth. She loves life and all who live in hers, and it shows. She is often seen is very fashionable clothing, but also always seems to be comfortable in what she wears. It isn't that her clothes are fashionable, it's that she, herself, makes them fashionable in her countenance, in her walk. Never has anyone called her, "Grandma."
Personality
Sweet as can be but tough enough to tell you the truth, Madam Kleine is everyone's grandmother all while never being a grandmother at all. She loves to gossip with the girls but also holds herself to a certain standard. She'll never shy away from playing a game of COD or SSMB with the guys.
Many people would tell you she is a young soul in an older body, but she would gladly disagree with you. She just claims that she just found the secret of life, enjoy it as much as possible and take every opportunity to live your life within reason.
Backstory
A former wife and mother, Madam Kleine has since lost all of her family, saying goodbye to them before their time. Now, she spends her time taking care of the Sumpter family, the family of her sister-in-law. She retired from her job as a fashion designer and became the family's maid.
Future Plans
-Support the Sumpter family for as long as she is able.
Likes/Dislikes
Outdoors
Novels (Romance especially)
Art
Sweet foods
Animals
Cold Temperatures
Water (Swimming)
Spicy foods
Nonfiction
Sewing
Other
"My only advice to you is this... If you want to be a Queen, you must first act like one."
Sarah's Relationship Sheet
Sarah - "I am the queen of my life." "I think I truly met myself when I was forced to live on my own, without my side kicks." |
49,095 | 1,325 | 2 | 1,126 | 802 | What am I even doing here?
Brandon had asked himself that question a dozen times on the drive over. The mansion was in an area that Brandon had never really driven to, nor did he have any idea how people could live in houses as large as the ones in this area. Brandon's own home was barely larger than a two-story trailer, and it seemed more than adequate for the six people who lived there, especially now that the other three had either moved out or to college. These last two years were the first time Brandon had ever experienced having a bathroom to himself, and now he was going to spend a summer in an estate that likely held more bathrooms than Brandon had visited in his entire life.
The drive had lasted about a half hour with Brandon's knuckles turning white with trepidation before he was even halfway there. His navy duffel had been carefully packed with everything he could conceivably need, including his laptop and some reading material. He hoped that the stay would be interesting enough that the books would remain unread, but at the very least, his copy of The Lord of the Rings in Spanish would keep him interested if he were ignored by the group. He had no idea how many people would show up or what they were planning, and the unknown both excited and terrified him. His parents had essentially given him a blank check to act as he saw fit for the entire summer, and for the first time, he was alone.
Brandon's first thought was he should get a gift for Elizabeth for inviting them. As he drove through town, a Farmer's Market caught his eye, and he purchased a bundle of a dozen roses, complete with baby's breath and other greenery that he didn't recognize. The flowers seemed fairly expensive to him, but he was unaccustomed to purchasing gifts, especially ones for girls. The florist gave him a wink as he paid with his debit card, and Brandon blushed in response. It might have looked as if he were buying flowers for a girlfriend, if he were only so lucky.
The final leg of the journey brought him to the mansion, and his jaw dropped as he saw the flowers in full bloom in the garden around him. Perhaps his gift was a bit poorly planned out. He didn't even know where he should park his car, as the beat-up blue Focus definitely did not match the decor of its new surroundings. He stopped in front of the main door and sat in the car, trying to calm his nerves for a few moments. Okay. I can do this. These are my friends, after all.
Brandon stepped out of the car before collecting his bag and the new gift, then approached the front door. He looked around at the yard, still in complete awe about the sheer size of the area. He stood there for a couple of minutes, simply taking in his surroundings without knocking on the door, partially out of nervousness, but mostly out of wonder. | I’m not even sure why I came, but since I’m here, better make the most of it. ———————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————
name.
Brandon Scoville.
nicknames.
Bran, B
sex.
Male
age.
18
appearance.
height.
5’11”
weight.
220 lb.
body type.
Chubby.
other/description.
Not being one to care much about sports or other strenuous activity, Brandon is a bit on the chunky side. He typically wears glasses, but during important events (and he considers this summer one), he wears contacts instead. His typical attire includes jeans and a polo collared shirt. His messy brown hair is not noteworthy, but his strongest positive feature is his blue eyes. A girl once complimented his eyes, and he didn’t stop blushing for a week.
personality.
Brandon is a nice enough guy, but he’s never been what one would call a partier. In fact, he wasn’t going to accept the invitation to stay in the mansion for the summer, but his parents insisted. He is the typical nerd: salutatorian of the class and captain of the math team (the only varsity letter he got). He nearly always treats others nicely (unless they’ve been treating someone else poorly), but he often misjudges social situations and says the wrong thing.
That said, Brandon has a heart of gold. Those he considers his friends are the world to him, even if he doubts they feel the same way. He would stand up for anyone who was mistreated, and once got punched in the face defending a friend from a bully (which ironically also got Brandon suspended for the first time in his life).
backstory.
Being the youngest of four children, Brandon always felt as if he were neglected in life. He had two older sisters and an older brother, all of which were very active in sports and other extracurricular activities. Brandon, by contrast, focused more on studies than sports.
Brandon started life as an adorable charismatic kid, but in his tenth year, several major things happened to him. His family moved, forcing him to switch schools; his grandfather died, with whom he was extremely close; and he was subject to abuse from his brother, the effects of which he wouldn’t truly realize until some time passed. With all these things crashing down, Brandon found it hard to cope, withdrawing into video games and anime instead of spending time making friends.
By the time he reached high school, Brandon was already significantly overweight. As such, he never considered himself attractive enough to be worthy of dating, overlooking his other positive traits. Indeed, he has never been in any sort of true relationship, although he has crushed pretty hard on a few of his classmates over the years. He would never admit it to them for fear of (in his eyes, imminent) rejection. He considers himself broken goods, and has essentially consigned himself to a life with little possibility of romance.
Brandon has a habit of avoiding social gatherings, and without his parents’ insistence, he would not be at this summer-long get-together. His parents decided that he needed more social interactions, perhaps looking back on their own youths and wishing they had fewer regrets. Whatever the reason, Brandon approaches the gathering with some trepidation, having no idea what to expect.
future plans.
Brandon was one of ten people in the school to go all four years on the honor roll, and one of two to get all As for all four years. Sadly, one of his college credit classes gave him a bit more trouble than he anticipated, and he slipped to salutatorian instead of valedictorian. The effort was enough to land him with a full scholarship to Virginia Tech on an engineering program. The scholarship has taken the pressure off Brandon to find a job to pay for his classes, and as he is not a partier, he has little need for funding other than snacks and hobbies. However, he laments that he will be leaving his friends behind.
likes/dislikes.
anime, Asians, difficult thought-provoking questions, learning, engineering, video games, and basically every single girl in the high school
complex social situations, prejudice, shallowness, people who aren’t able to listen in a conversation |
49,096 | 1,325 | 3 | 1,159 | 3,529 | Amelia looked out the car window as the she and her brother passed by various building that lined the streets that would lead them to Elizabeth's house. Though, in her mind, domain would probably be the more accurate word, given what she had seen of Elizabeth's other house from the one or two times she had slept over. The thought brought a smile to her face before she stole a glance at her brother, the current driver. Amelia was more then capable of driving herself, she had a license. What she didn't have was a car, since her parents didn't buy her one for reasons they refused to explain to her. So she was stuck with probably one of her least favorite people on the planet as chaperone until she finally got a car of her own.
Eventually, her brother came to a stop, a few yards from their destination.
"Get out." He said, popping the trunk of the car. Not wanting to argue and get in a fight, Amelia got out of the car and went and got her things before closing it. Without even a wave or verbal good-bye, her bother gunned the engine and left her there without any instructions on where to go. Sighing to herself, she shouldered on bag and grabbed her suitcase and began walking. At least he had dropped her off in a shady area.
It would take her another hour to reach Elizabeth's house, which she only found as some communication problems while asking for directions and a lot of walking. Smiling to herself as she reached her destination, Amelia walked down to drive way, eager to get inside. As she made her way to the building, she spotted Brandon, staring around at the mansion as if he was on some sort of alien world. Laughing to herself, she approached him before reaching up and gently tapping in on the shoulder. When he turned around to see who it was, he would find her with her signature white umbrella, open the blocking the rays of the sun leaning against her left shoulder. She was wearing a simple yet elegant white sundress and a pair of sandals for the day. Once she had his attention, she gave him a kind, if slightly tired, smile.
Hello Brandon. How are you today? She signed | Name
Amelia Artemia Averyonna
Age
18
Indepth Appearance
Amelia is a short, petite girl, just barely standing at a full five feet tall and weighting a mere hundred and ten pounds. Her skin is fair and flawless, not marred by any tattoos or piercings, though the occasional bit of acne can show up. Amelia generally does not use make-up but she does use skincare products to keep her skin healthy, preferring to let her natural beauty shine through.
Amelia's gold blonde hair falls down just past her shoulders and is straight until it get's closer to the tips, at which point it begins to curl unless she straightens them. She generally keeps her hair loose and let's it fall naturally, only running a comb or brush through it to get rid of the knots and keep it somewhat neat. The only time Amelia ties her hair up is when she need to concentrate or keep it out of the way, usually when she's working on a project or sketching.
Amelia's eyes are a steely blue, not quite grey but not quite blue either. One odd feature of her eyes is a small ring of what appears to be a shade of orange close to her pupil, which is only noticeable to those who actually examine them closely.
Personality
Amelia is a very shy and reclusive girl, which is not helped by her muteness and fondness for quiet places. Preferring the company of nature to the company of other humans, Amelia tends to shun social gatherings in order to spend time by herself and go for a walk around town, particularly the local parks and gardens. However, she is not completely anti-social. Once one can get out her shy personality and inability to talk, they can find a girl who values the company of others, especially those she counts among her friends. She is willing to listen to them and let them vent their griefs to her and help them get over their problems so long as it is within her ability and she feels that 'helping' will not hurt them more.
Like all people though, she is not without her downsides. Other then her overly shy nature, Amelia lacks any and all traces of self-confidence. She views her sketches and paintings as average or, more often, below average, despite that fact that they are very detailed and realistic works of art. She is also scared that she won't live up to the expectations of others, especially her parents and those she considers friends. To her, disappointing them is tantamount to failing at life. While she is eager the please others, she has a strong sense of right and wrong and will not do anything she views as wrong, even if pressured to do so. If she loses a friend doing something she knows is right, she at least takes solace in doing the right thing, even if she feels terrible afterwards.
When it comes to love, Amelia is inexperienced but knows what she wants. She wants someone who doesn't force her to do things she doesn't want to and will support her, even in the toughest of times, as well being able to accept everything about her, good and bad. However, she doubts anyone would even be interested in her and doesn't have high hopes of finding anyone. This is not helped by her appearance, as she feels vastly underdeveloped compared to some of the other girl's she was around.
Backstory
Born to a middle class family consisting of her father Thomas, a small time business man, her mother Erina, who owned a flower shop, and her older brother Arthur, Amelia has lead a mostly sheltered the protected life. From a very young age, Amelia's health was concerned. The first known problem was her muteness, which was immediately obvious from birth. The second concern was her immune system, which seemed on the weaker side, causing her to get sick quickly and recover slowly.
One of Amelia's favorite activities early on in her life was drawing, something she would spend most of her time doing. By the time she was in second grade, her artistic skills were well beyond those of her peers. She was able to accurately draw the flowers in her mother's shop, albeit without the details needed to be considered truly accurate. Seeing this, her parents signed her up for extra art classes and began pushing her to improve. As time went on, they would become overly critical of her work, to the point that it seemed like nothing would satisfy them.
To make matters worse, her brother wasn't very supportive of her either. Jealous of all the attention his little sister was receiving, the boy began bullying her while they were still young. Taking advantage of her inability to talk, and therefore call for help, and inability to fight back for fear of causing more drama, the boy would pull off various malicious, sometimes cruel, stunts. When Amelia was only six, he locked her out of the house during a thunderstorm while their parents were away, only letting her in in time for her to take a bath and change cloths before their parents came home, leaving the girl traumatized for life. As time went on, he would leave her alone but his attitude towards her is still antagonistic and he often belittles her.
Other then her home life, and the expectations placed upon her, Amelia has lead a rather normal, uneventful life until four years ago. Moving up in the business world, Amelia's father can now afford to send her to more expensive schools and, just after her freshman year began, had his daughter transferred to a new high school. The transition was rough for her, as she quickly became a target for bullying due to her shy nature and inability to talk. It wasn't until Elizabeth stepped in and stood up for her that things began getting better. Elizabeth brought Amelia into her group of friends and helped Amelia come out of her shell a bit as well as get to know everyone. Amelia in return became very loyal to Elizabeth and has done her best to support Elizabeth however she can throughout the years.
Future Plans
Amelia is unsure of what she wants to do. For now, she's just living life and trying to have fun while figuring out what SHE wants to do without her parent's interference.
Likes/Dislikes
Visual art
Nature
Rainy Days
Sweets
Her Friends
Sunny Days
Metal Music
Spicy Food
Bullying of any kind
Her Brother (More of a fear)
Thunder and Lightning (Major Phobia)
Being Unable to Meet Other's Expectation (Fear)
Other
Amelia always has an umbrella on her person to protect her skin from the sun.
Amelia's Answers
1. What are your names?
Amelia, Ame
2. Do you know why you were named that?
Ame is just what people call me when they don't feel like using my full name
3. What are you?
Human
4. What's your gender?
Female
5. How old are you?
18
6. What do you think your life expectancy is?
I'm not sure. Anything can happen in life after all.
7. What's your height?
5'
8. What's your eye color?
Steely Blue
9. How about hair color?
Gold Blond
10. Do you think you're attractive?
People sometimes say I am but I'm not really sure
11. Do you have any features that you want to get rid of, if you could?
Being mute
12. How would you introduce yourself? If you are famous in your world, how would you introduce yourself to someone who had never heard of you?
I'm not really sure. I don't think I'll be famous anyway
13. Have any abilities or powers?
People say I'm good at drawing and painting but I think I could do better.
14. Stop being a Mary-sue!
I-I highly doubt I am.
15. What do you usually wear?
It varies. Somedays I wear simple dresses, others I wear a t-shirt and jeans. But I usually wear white or light colors.
16. Do you ever walk around naked?
NEVER!
17. Ever cross-dressed before?
No!
18. What do you wear to bed?
Why do you want to know?
19. What's in your pockets right now?
Same as above.
20. To what social class do you belong?
Upper class
21. What is your job?
I don't currently have one
22. What is your lifelong dream?
I'm not sure.
23. What is your worst nightmare?
Being stuck with my brother during a storm.
24. How honest are you about your thoughts and feelings (i.e. do you hide your true self from others, and in what way)?
I'm not sure. I guess I am though.
25. What's one thing you like and one thing you dislike about your personality?
I'm not sure there's anything for me to like but I'm not sure I dislike anything either. I'm just me.
26. What do you do on a regular basis?
Draw and Paint
27. Do you have any activities/hobbies that you like to do?
See above.
28. That's cool, I guess. Now tell me something you don't like.
My older brother
29. What are you most afraid of?
Thunder storms.
30. Have any secrets?
That's a secret.
31. Name your worst habits?
Chewing my pencils or paintbrushes when I'm concentrating.
32. Any nasty indulgences, like smoking or gambling? No. Such things would distract me from my art.
33. Have any of you ever done illegal things knowingly (don't include petty things like jaywalking)? What were they?
No.
34. Are you one to hold a grudge?
No, what's the point?
35. What do you do when you're upset?
I just like to be alone and wait for the feeling to pass.
36. What's one thing that could potentially cause you to go into a blind rage?
I rarely get angry but I guess someone destroying my work.
37. Is there anything you absolutely refuse to do under any circumstances? Why do you refuse to do it?
I refuse to hurt others because it's pointless and causes unneeded strife.
38. What's your preferred weapon of choice?
Nothing
39. What is your favorite colour?
Teal.
40. Favorite drink?
Chocolate milk. More chocolate then milk.
41. Alright. What's your favorite food?
Sweets.
42. What are your thoughts on pie?
Chocolate is best.
43. What's your favorite ice cream flavor?
Orange and Cream.
44. Where are you from?
Allentown, Pennsylvania.
45. What's your favorite place?
Anywhere nice and calming.
46. What's your least favorite place?
Anywhere my brother is at.
47. Where do you wish you could be right now, regardless of whether it's real or not?
Paris.
48. What is the first thing you tend to notice when you first meet someone?
How they treat me when they find out I can't talk.
49. What is your favorite season?
Winter. Something about how still it can be is calming.
50. Do you believe in love at first sight?
No, not really.
51. Gay, straight, or bi?
That's really personal.
52. Are you interested in anyone?
Not at the moment
53. What do you look for in a partner?
Someone who respects and accepts me.
54. What's your idea of a perfect date?
I've never thought about it.
55. Are you single or taken?
I don't think you need to know.
56. Are you a virgin?
That is highly personal.
57. Have you ever kissed anyone? If so, who was your first? Who was your last?
The same as above.
58. What is your favorite thing to touch?
Paper and wooden paintbrushes.
59. Ever wanna marry and have kids one day?
I think that would be nice.
60. Have any family members?
My mother, father, and older brother.
61. Oh? How about pets?
None.
62. How many friends do you have?
Six or seven.
63. If the one you cared most about in your life were to somehow die today, how would you react and what would you do?
I Don't know. I don't want to think about it.
64. Do you look up to anyone at all?
Elizabeth I guess.
65. Do you hate anyone?
I don't hate anyone. Fear might be another story.
66. Who is your worst enemy?
My brother.
67. Have you ever hurt anyone in anyway before?
Maybe when I was very little, but never on purpose.
68. Ever... killed anyone before?
NO! And I pray I never do, for any reason, in any circumstance.
69. Under what circumstances do you think killing someone justified, in general?
Life is a precious thing that should never be taken on purpose.
70. Are you wanted for anything?
No.
71. Uh... if you were to get in a fight with a strong wrestler, do you think you'd win?
Never.
72. What's one of your fondest childhood memories?
Spending time in my mother's old flower shop.
73. If you could go back and change one thing about the past, would you? What would you change?
I'm not sure.
74. What kind of animal are you most like?
Cats. Their independent and confident in what they do.
75. Do/did you go to school?
Yes, I went to school.
76. Do you have fangirls/fanboys?
I don't think so.
77. If you're a girl, what's your cup size? If you're a guy, how big are you?
What's with all the very personal questions?!
78. What's one phrase you overuse?
I don't think I have one.
79. Would you rather swim in a lake or the ocean?
The ocean if it was one of the clear ones.
80. Have you ever gone skinny dipping?
Never.
81. How long can you stay under water?
Maybe a minute.
82. Any fetishes?
Another personal one but the answer is no.
83. Seme or uke? I don't know what this means.
84. Which do you like more, sad stories or happy stories? Happy.
85. Camping or indoors?
Both are fine with me but I think I prefer indoors more.
86. Do you like to sing or dance?
I'm completely incapable of singing and I have no interest in dancing.
87. To what degree do you avoid risks and danger?
A very high degree.
88. What makes you vulnerable?
Being unable to talk or call for help.
89. Under what circumstance would you risk your own life for someone else?
If they were someone I really cared about.
90. How would you describe your current adventuring companions to a friend you trust?
A very kind and caring bunch.
91. What do you do to relax?
Paint and draw, though it doesn't always work.
92. What's the best piece of advice you've ever had?
Just be true to yourself, no matter what others say.
93. Name three things you consider yourself to be very good at, and three things you consider yourself to be very bad at.
I guess I'm decent at art, but I'm not that good at it. I'm not really good any thing else but I'm really bad at sports.
94. If you could choose, how would you want to die?
Peacefully and painlessly.
95. If you knew you were going to die in 24 hours, name three things you would do in the time you had left.
All I would want to do is have a good time with my friends, if possible.
96. What's one word that best describes you?
Quiet.
97. What would you do if you could meet your creator?
I'm not really sure.
98. What are your impressions about the other interviewees?
Brandon's the only one to answer and he seems nice.
99. Do you even want to be here?
Yes.
100. What do you spend most of your time doing?
Art or just enjoying my friends company. |
49,097 | 1,325 | 4 | 1,611 | 644 | outfit
Today, like most days, her very first thought was, “I wish I could sleep longer.” For as long as she could remember, Jocelyn had never been a morning person. She never understood people who could jump out of bed, put on a pot of coffee and, in an instant, be ready to face the day. For her, the lure of a cozy bed far outweighed that of a pot of liquid caffeine and morning traffic. See, Jocelyn was the type of girl who set her alarm for six-thirty in the morning planning to get up, maybe go for a quick run, cook breakfast for her parents and still have time to shower and get to where she needed to go on time. But, like all the best laid plans, this one never came to fruition. Inevitably the snooze button was just a groggy swipe of the hand away, giving her relief from facing the reality of the day in 5 minute bursts. After the tenth "burst," however, Jocelyn decided that it was finally time to get out of bed.
After a few hours of moping around the house, tossing articles of clothing, electronics, and a few books into her duffel bags, Jocelyn was finally ready to take the seemingly long drive up town. She'd decided on sticking to wearing a pair of dark skinny jeans, a striped blouse, and black wedges; it was something simple to kick off the Summer. After lugging her bags to the backseat of her 2004 Acura TL and turning the air conditioning on full blast, she began her drive to Elizabeth's house. Having been to the girl's house a couple of times in the past, she knew exactly where she was headed, and got there in a reasonable amount of time. Although she'd seen her house before, she still couldn't help but gape as she pulled into the lot. Hell, before she even met Elizabeth, she'd never seen houses so large and lavish. Well, not in person at least.
Jocelyn pulled her two large duffel bags out of the car and locked it before making her way to the front door of the home. She was simply delighted to see that two of her friends had already arrived, and were holding a conversation in front of the entrance door, bags still in hand. "I don't know about y'all," she said as she stepped past them and knocked twice on the front door, "but if I gotta hold these bags for one more second, my arms are gonna fall off." She set one of the bags on the concrete, chuckling to herself as she turned to face her friends once more. "Glad to see you two. Looking forward to the rest of the Summer?" | {"He who believes is strong; he who doubts is weak. Strong convictions precede great actions."}
- Louisa May Alcott
▾ Name: Jocelyn Nicole Fields
▾ Nickname: "Nickie"
▾ Age: Eighteen
▾ DOB: June Second
▾ In depth Appearance: Jocelyn is a curvaceous, young black woman, standing at five feet six inches tall and weighing in at a little over one-hundred forty pounds. Her skin is beautifully brown. Her soft-curled, shoulder length hair is dense but yielding, and thick enough to lose your fingers in. Although having a head full of gorgeous hair, Jocelyn prefers to wear her hair in protective styles (braids, weaves, wigs), which allow her hair to grow quicker and healthier. There's a certain elegance in the way that Jocelyn holds herself: good posture, long confident strides and head held high. She often looks taller than her height of 5'6, especially since she's always wearing heels whenever she has the chance.
Her eyes are large and almond shaped, the brown of the irises so dark that they almost appear to be black. Her eyes are fringed with long, thick lashes. She has a short, delicate nose and perfectly arched, dark eyebrows. Her face is heart-shaped; she has high cheekbones and a pointed chin. Her lips are full and always covered with a clear lip gloss. When smiling, you can see that she has two rows of perfectly white teeth, a slight overbite present. She has helix piercings, conch piercings, tragus piercings, and lobe piercings in both of her ears. She has a septum piercing, as well. Jocelyn has three tattoos: two on her left thigh and one on the back of her neck. She plans on getting more, despite her parents' disapproval.
When it comes to her fashion sense, Jocelyn always tries her best to "dress to impress." Her wardrobe consists of affordable, yet stunning pantsuits, dresses, blouses, and a wide array of heels, boots, and sneakers. She likes to look her best everyday, and usually spends about an hour each morning making sure that there's nothing out of place. It's rare to see her in a state of disarray, as her mother raised her to believe that she should always look prepared and presentable, especially when she's the most frazzled. When it comes to jewelry, Jocelyn does not like to be flashy. At the most, she'll wear a large pair of hoop earrings and a ring on her index finger. Every now and then, Jocelyn will visit the thrift store to find clothes that she can "revamp."
▾ Ambitious ▾ Stubborn ▾ Confident ▾ Untidy ▾
▾ Personality: The very first word that pops into one's mind when thinking about Jocelyn Fields is determination, and the second, ambitious. Everyone that knows Jocelyn knows that whenever she puts her mind to something, it will get done, regardless of whatever obstacles she has to push through in order to do so. Ever since she was a little girl, she has had a vision of where she is going in life, and will do everything in her power to get there. Despite all the odds, Jocelyn has managed to maintain a solid A average throughout middle and high school. She is intelligent and very articulate, and loves having meaningful conversations and debates with others. Her confidence is shown through her powerful mannerisms. She is, more often than not, very kind and humble, and is well liked by most of her peers. She is generally friendly, unless you give her a reason not to be.
While being confident in both herself and her actions, this is often to a fault. She is very opinionated, has trouble asking for help, and hates admitting when she's wrong. When things don't go as planned or in a positive direction, she can get frustrated very easily. Jocelyn also has a bit of a "potty mouth," and uses profanity even when she isn't trying to. In addition to these shortcomings, Jocelyn is also stubborn and untidy. She has trouble keeping things neat and in order; her book bag and locker all throughout school, for example, were always complete messes. Somehow, however, she always knew exactly where her things were. Despite all of her flaws, there's no denying that Jocelyn is kind and dependable. If you ask her to meet you somewhere, she will be there; if she promises to do something, she will do it; if you ask her for help, she will do everything in her power to assist. Overall, Jocelyn is a kind soul looking to find her place in this world.
▾ Backstory: Jocelyn was born and raised in the "ghetto" slums of Brooklyn, New York. She was an only child, a product of an unexpected and unwanted teen pregnancy. Despite being deemed "not ready" to raise a kid by her family, Jocelyn's mother still brought her "bundle of joy" into this world. After just two long months of motherhood, however, Jocelyn's mother had reached her breaking point. After being forced to move into her baby father's place and fend for herself (and her newborn), her mother had much trouble affording clothes, diapers, and formula for her child. Jocelyn's father dropped out of high school and got a job, but it still wasn't enough to support all three of them. Long story short, the parents decided to put their baby girl up for adoption, and not much later, she was taken in by a beautiful Dominican couple originally from North Carolina.
Growing up, Jocelyn was always very independent and ambitious. In elementary school, she was often recognized and rewarded for her academic and social achievements. Her adoptive parents were both high school teachers, and pushed for their daughter to partake in numerous activities: piano lessons, basketball, spelling bees, volunteer work, etc. From the age of seven, Jocelyn knew that she was adopted as a baby, but had no great desire of meeting her birth parents. However, that did not stop her from figuring out who they were and digging up as much information about them as she could. She took many trips to the area at which she was born, the neighborhood not too far from her own, and even visited the high school she would have attended had the couple decided to keep her.
Before her Sophomore year, Jocelyn's daddy moved the family to a small town in North Carolina because of a job promotion; he would soon become the principal of a local high school. Not being used to living in the country, Jocelyn immediately felt out of place within the town. For a long time she missed the commotion of the city, her friends back home, and even the stray cat she used to feed on her walk to class everyday. This changed as time went on, and she began to make more friends and connections within her new school. She also had the chance to connect with family members she never even knew existed.
▾ Future Plans: After pushing through high school while consistently maintaining an A average, Jocelyn plans to attend Howard University in Washington D.C., and double major in both Psychology and Pre-Med. She plans to minor in African-American Studies so that she can get a better understanding of her history. After Med-School, Jocelyn plans on becoming a licensed Psychiatrist and working until she can open her own private practice. While paying for all of this schooling may prove to be extremely difficult, Jocelyn is confident that her future will pan out the way it's supposed to.
▾ Likes/Dislikes:
▾ Underground Rap/Hip-Hop
▾ Conspiracy Theories
▾ Spicy Foods
▾ Basketball/Football/Baseball
▾ Most Sweets; they make her teeth ache.
▾ Country music
▾ Large insects
▾ Racism, Prejudice, Homophobia, etc.
▾ Other:
It's A Man's Man's Man's World - James Brown
This is a man's world
This is a man's world
But it wouldn't be nothing, nothing
Without a woman or a girl
FC: Yara Shahidi
CC: #404193
1. What are your names? "Jocelyn Nicole Fields. Some call me Nickie, Some call me Lyn. Whatever floats their boat."
2. Do you know why you were named that? "I was named after my grandmother, God rest her soul."
3. What are you? "A young, ambitious, cool ass black woman."
4. What's your gender? "Emphasis on the word woman."
5. How old are you? "Eighteen"
6. What do you think your life expectancy is? "I'll live a long life."
7. What's your height? "Five feet, Six inches without heels."
8. What's your eye color? "Brown"
9. How about hair color? "Dark brown"
10. Do you think you're attractive? "Abso-fucking-lutely."
11. Do you have any features that you want to get rid of, if you could? "Well, I guess I could drop a few dress sizes...."
12. How would you introduce yourself? If you are famous in your world, how would you introduce yourself to someone who had never heard of you? "If things end up going according to plan, everyone will have heard of me."
13. Have any abilities or powers? "The fuck does this look like, Harry Potter? Next."
14. Stop being a Mary-sue! "Excuse you?"
15. What do you usually wear? "Heels, heels, and more heels."
16. Do you ever walk around naked? "When I'm in the comfort of my own home, of course."
17. Ever cross-dressed before? "No."
18. What do you wear to bed? "Depends on the temperature."
19. What's in your pockets right now? "My cell phone, a tube of chapstick and... oooh, gum!"
20. To what social class do you belong? "Middle Class"
21. What is your job? "I don't have a job. My parents want me to 'focus on school.'"
22. What is your lifelong dream? "I want to be a psychiatrist, open up my own practice, write a few books..."
23. What is your worst nightmare? "My family disowning me."
24. How honest are you about your thoughts and feelings (i.e. do you hide your true self from others, and in what way)? "I'm honest about most things. If I feel a certain way, I will express it. I tend to think out loud."
25. What's one thing you like and one thing you dislike about your personality? "I like how I have grown to be more extroverted. I do not like my stubbornness."
26. What do you do on a regular basis? "Wake up. Wash my ass and brush my teeth. Go to school. Come home. Do homework. Repeat. It'll change, occasionally, if I have a club meeting or plan to volunteer at the shelter. Oh, and if my friends want to hang out."
27. Do you have any activities/hobbies that you like to do? "I like listening to music, a lot. Especially Conscious Rap and old R&B jams. I'm in a lot of clubs, too, but I don't think they'd qualify as something I 'like.'"
28. That's cool, I guess. Now tell me something you don't like. "Country music, sweets, large bugs, soccer."
29. What are you most afraid of? "Being a fuck up, disappointing everyone."
30. Have any secrets? "I don't generally tell people that I was adopted, so if you could keep that on the low, that would be dope."
31. Name your worst habits? I say a curse word every other fuckin' word, unless I try my hardest not to."
32. Any nasty indulgences, like smoking or gambling? "I smoke Black & Milds when my parents aren't around. I also smoke weed, but I wouldn't really count that as nasty."
33. Have any of you ever done illegal things knowingly (don't include petty things like jaywalking)? What were they? "Other than underage smoking and drinking? No."
34. Are you one to hold a grudge? "Hell yeah."
35. What do you do when you're upset? "If I'm angry, I'll go the fuck off. If I'm sad, I'll isolate myself until the feeling is gone."
36. What's one thing that could potentially cause you to go into a blind rage? "Racism, Homophobia, Ignorance, Disrespect."
37. Is there anything you absolutely refuse to do under any circumstances? Why do you refuse to do it? "I'm not sure."
38. What's your preferred weapon of choice? "These hands."
39. What is your favorite colour? "Orange."
40. Favorite drink? "Strawberry Soda"
41. Alright. What's your favorite food? "BBQ Chicken wings."
42. What are your thoughts on pie? "I love pie, especially sweet potato."
43. What's your favorite ice cream flavor? "I don't eat ice cream, I eat Sherbet."
44. Where are you from? "Brooklyn."
45. What's your favorite place? "I like visiting the park. It's quiet."
46. What's your least favorite place? "School."
47. Where do you wish you could be right now, regardless of whether it's real or not? "Hogwarts."
48. What is the first thing you tend to notice when you first meet someone? "Their teeth."
49. What is your favorite season? "Autumn."
50. Do you believe in love at first sight? "No, that's idiotic."
51. Gay, straight, or bi? "Bisexual."
52. Are you interested in anyone? "No."
53. What do you look for in a partner? "I look for someone who I can just vibe with. That type of person who can talk about anything and everything, who has an open mind and free spirit."
54. What's your idea of a perfect date? "Laying on the rooftop at midnight, looking at the stars and having a deep conversation."
55. Are you single or taken? "I'm single..."
56. Are you a virgin? "No."
57. Have you ever kissed anyone? If so, who was your first? Who was your last? "My first kiss was my best friend back in third grade. We were young and experimenting. She thought the kiss was gross, and I thought it was fucking fantastic. My last kiss was an ex boyfriend, about a year and a half ago."
58. What is your favorite thing to touch? "What's up with these stupid ass questions, yo?"
59. Ever wanna marry and have kids one day? "Marriage, sure. I want to adopt all of my children."
60. Have any family members? "Too many to count."
61. Oh? How about pets? "As if my pops would ever let an animal into the house."
62. How many friends do you have? "I have many friends, some closer than others."
63. If the one you cared most about in your life were to somehow die today, how would you react and what would you do? "I'd cry for months."
64. Do you look up to anyone at all? "I look up to a lot of inspiring people: Michelle Obama, Viola Davis, Beyonce, Oprah... The list goes on."
65. Do you hate anyone? "Shonda. Fucking. Rhimes. She literally kills off every great character on Grey's Anatomy. That shit is ridiculous!"
66. Who is your worst enemy? "Myself."
67. Have you ever hurt anyone in anyway before? "Everyone has hurt someone, even if it was unintentional. It happens."
68. Ever... killed anyone before? "Who the fuck do you think I am?"
69. Under what circumstances do you think killing someone justified, in general? "If they're like, a child molester or some other sick shit."
70. Are you wanted for anything? "No."
71. Uh... if you were to get in a fight with a strong wrestler, do you think you'd win? "I'm gonna let you look at me... just for a minute. Now, tell me, do you think I could beat up a strong ass wrestler? Yeah, that's what I thought."
72. What's one of your fondest childhood memories? "Back up north, my mom used to take me to see the Rockefeller Center Christmas Tree every Christmas eve."
73. If you could go back and change one thing about the past, would you? What would you change? "I would have introduced myself to my birth mother. Maybe we'd have some kind of relationship."
74. What kind of animal are you most like? "Fox."
75. Do/did you go to school? "Obviously."
76. Do you have fangirls/fanboys? "No?"
77. If you're a girl, what's your cup size? If you're a guy, how big are you? "38, double D."
78. What's one phrase you overuse? "What the fuck?"
79. Would you rather swim in a lake or the ocean? "Neither."
80. Have you ever gone skinny dipping? "Yes."
81. How long can you stay under water? "I don't go under water, my hair will get wet and gross. Do you know how long it takes to wash this stuff?"
82. Any fetishes? "If I did, I would not tell you. I'm not that open."
83. Seme or uke? "What the fuck is that?"
84. Which do you like more, sad stories or happy stories? "Sad stories."
85. Camping or indoors? "Indoors. I'd rather not get eaten alive my bugs.
86. Do you like to sing or dance? "I love to dance. Singing is only done in the shower."
87. To what degree do you avoid risks and danger? "Pretty high degree."
88. What makes you vulnerable? "Sharing my weaknesses, admitting my mistakes, falling in love and trusting someone for the first time."
89. Under what circumstance would you risk your own life for someone else? "I wouldn't unless I was like ninety percent sure that I wouldn't die. Like, yeah I love you, but..."
90. How would you describe your current adventuring companions to a friend you trust? "I love them. They're like a second family."
91. What do you do to relax? "Put on some R&B, roll a spliff, and sit in my beanbag chair."
92. What's the best piece of advice you've ever had? "If you want something, go get it. Period."
93. Name three things you consider yourself to be very good at, and three things you consider yourself to be very bad at. "I'm good at chasing what I want, leading, and helping others. I'm not that great at cooking or holding my tongue."
94. If you could choose, how would you want to die? "I'd die in my sleep. No pain."
95. If you knew you were going to die in 24 hours, name three things you would do in the time you had left. "I'd probably rob a bank and spend all of the money on things for my family and friends."
96. What's one word that best describes you? "Determined."
97. What would you do if you could meet your creator? "I don't know. Tell them thanks, I guess."
98. What are your impressions about the other interviewees? "They're cool people, my best buds. I'd do anything for them. Well, almost anything."
99. Do you even want to be here? "Of course."
100. What do you spend most of your time doing? "Working." |
49,098 | 1,325 | 5 | 1,046 | 4,332 | Mentions:
As if she had been ready the entire time, Madam Kleine was at the door and opening it within minutes of the knock. The mansion was spotless as usual due to Madam Kleine tireless work and tireless she appeared as she opened the door. Her face held a bright smile framed by her wavy gray hair. "Good afternoon, everyone." She spoke with a grace to her voice. "Please, feel free to set your things to the side. The butlers will take them to your rooms." As she spoke, two older gentlemen appeared, smiling and ready to take their things.
"There is tea in the living room and I believe Ms. Elizabeth is in the garden with the gardener. Please, make yourselves at home." She finished, bowing and stepping away to get to work. On what? No one really knew but she kept herself busy.
Mentions:
Outfit
"Don't mind if I do." Eva responded from behind them, slipping past Jocelyn into the house. She didn't have the same react as the others. Her house was technically bigger than Elizabeths, though it wasn't like she wanted it to begin with. She dropped her bags in front of the two bulters and kept walking, ignoring them completely.
"Where's food? I'm starved." Eva asked, making her way for the kitchen already.
She had a long, annoying ride with her... 'body guard' whom she paid to leave her alone for this trip. Even if her mom agreed to let her go, they were both too stubborn for this. Luckily, the guy was pretty easy to pay off. It only took a couple grand to get him gone, better than she'd hoped for honestly. The rest of the trip had been much quicker. If there was one thing Eva wasn't on the road, it was slow. Her black car was parked haphazardly under one of the trees on the property. She wasn't planning on going anywhere anyway. | "I didn't lose. I just found a million ways that won't work."
Name Lance Aaron Peterson
Age 18
"You mean, you don't love my dance moves? Sad."
Indepth Appearance
Lance is tall, standing at a towering 6'2 and refuses to tell people how much he weighs. "It's all muscle anyway..." he'd say. He has short dark brown hair and dark, almost black, brown eyes. His eyes are spread very far apart and are very narrow. He has a very wide and large smile when he decides to let others see it. His shoulders are wide, like his father and brother like him. He is very well fitted from a lot of exercise and working out and he takes much pride in his body.
He has no scars on his body, something else he also takes pride in. Despite all of the fights he's gotten into, he still hasn't received any scarring. His skin is very soft and porcelain white.
"I'm so afraid of losing something that I love, that I refuse to love anything." - Jonathan Safrantoer
Personality
• Cocky • Playful • Insecure •
Lance is cocky, mean, and playful. He loves messing with people and making them squirm. He doesn't often pick fights with his 'friend group' but isn't opposed to knocking some teeth in when prompted. There are a few people he will not mess with, however. He refuses to mess with Amelia and Marcus. Amelia because he honestly can't bring himself to mess with such a pure person. Most often he just ignores her, but would protect her without a second thought.
Marcus is different. Lance wouldn't exactly call himself a closet gay, but he doesn't exactly broadcast it like Marcus does. In fact, Lance is actually bisexual, very easily swinging it both ways. He still can't bring himself to keep a relationship for more than a few months, however. He always managing to fuck something up and push the other person away. His insecurities are very, very deeply seated and he is so afraid of losing something he loves to the point of not wanting to love anything. Which is why he tends to either mess with others or steer clear of them. The only person he is completely comfortable around is Eva, who often sees the more vulnerable side of him even if she strongly dislikes whenever he does.
Lance is a sweet guy on the inside, but in his attempts to keep people at a distance, he often comes off as the asshole. The thing he fears most in the world is that if he actually starts to become attached to someone they would stab him in the back or worse, something terrible would happen to them. Despite this, Lance has taken a vow for himself to always tell the truth, even if it's the blunt truth (hence why he gets along with Eva so well). It does often bite him in the ass, however. When he doesn't want to tell the truth, he often just shuts up and refuses to speak.
Lance does have a bit of a mean streak, however. And when he goes into a fight, he goes for blood. He's pretty easy to anger, even if he is playful, and often lashes out in ways that he doesn't mean to. He is, however, quick to admit when he's in the wrong, even if he hates doing so.
"Keep the ones that heard you when you never said a word."-Unknown
Backstory
Lance grew up in South Korea, which is why his accent still shines through a bit when he talks with his friends. Being the son of a massive business tycoon meant that Lance had to deal with a lot of pressure being placed on him, from his mother and brothers. His father was always very laid back and smiled whenever he saw him. The only siblings he ever found that he got along with were the outcasts. Henry, the bastard son, and eventually Eva, the daughter switched at birth. He never got along with Ana and loathed ever moment with his other brothers, Adam and Colin. They always fought with him every chance they got, taking every opportunity to prove how much better they were than him at literally everything. Whenever he brought it up to his father, he would simply shrug his shoulders like it wasn't his problem to deal with and smile like it would all be okay. His brothers would often leave bruises on Lance's body and the one day that his mother, Maria, noticed them, she told him to bulk up. He needed to learn to defend himself if he was ever going to live in this business.
When he was in middle school, Lance had the opportunity to handle some of the businesses affairs and blundered it up so badly that his mother decided he would do better if he were on his own. So, Lance was sent to America, to the US branch of their company where he lived with his uncle. Not only had he been abandoned, but he felt so utterly betrayed, especially by his uncle who often stole money from Lance, money Lance had earned on his own. By high school, Lance had had enough and wasn't much one for making friends. He did get close to one person, however. And his name was Ryan. Ryan was Lance's best friend and they did nearly everything together. Things weren't meant to be so peachy keen, however. As their relationship developed from one of friendship to that of something a bit more, Ryan was kidnapped by men from Korea aiming at getting back at Lance's dad by getting his vulnerable son. They'd made a mistake however, and mistook Ryan (who also looked asian) in place of Lance. Ryan nearly lost his life and Lance's father never came to get him despite the ransom calls. Lance fought hard to free Ryan from them, and eventually someone came and called the police but that was after Ryan had been thrown from a car and beaten into a coma. A year later, Ryan passed away in his coma, starting a long, long depression for Lance. Since then, Lance has refused to get close to anyone, for fear of something happening to them because of his family or by betrayal. He's chalk it up to his inability to trust literally anyone at all. Every relationship he's had since that point, he's always pushed the other person away by one means or another. He mostly just can't seem to let himself love anyone.
He'd always been talked at by Elizabeth but never really listened to her. But by senior year, he gave up and spent a few days hanging out with their group. He still doesn't get very close to any of them, but he does like to keep his eyes on Eva, trying to protect her from any attacks.
"It hurt because it mattered."-John Green
Future Plans
- Play baseball professionally
Likes/Dislikes
Action Movies
Spicy Foods
Animals
Sleeping
Rain
Attractive People
Family
Betrayal
Overly Sweet Foods
Bright Lights
Being Unloved
Other
Truthfully - DNCE
Speaking truthfully,
I love you more than you love me.
Colorcode: Orchid
FC: Kim Woo Bin
"Just because my path is different doesn't mean I'm lost."
Alternate Image 1
Alternate Image 2
Name Elizabeth-Rose Kelly Sumpter
Age 19
Indepth Appearance
Petite and small, Elizabeth stands at 5" 5', rather tall for a female, and weighs a nearly weightless 127 pounds. Her high metabolism makes certain that no matter her food consumption, she never gains weight. Her doctor even cheered when she finally hit 100 pounds. Her skin is porcelain and smooth, a product of all the skin care products she's had access to her whole life. She does get the odd pimple or two but she can often use her creme to wipe it out within the week.
Elizabeth's soft pink hair is down to her shoulder blades, and has been dyed pink since she entered high school. She often pulls it into a ponytail when it begins to annoy her, and more often than not it does. Her hair is so light that it knots very easily and she has to make several trips to the bathroom to comb it if it's left down. If she goes outside, it's almost certain her hair is going up.
Her eyes appear almost blue in certain lights, but it's really a very pale shade of brown, hazel even. Around the iris of her eyes, there is a dark brown ring that highlights the color of her eyes. She often puts on mascara and eyeliner to make her eyes appear larger, something the likes about her eyes is their size and she likes to emphasize it.
The one blemish on Elizabeth's face appears in the form of a small black dot, a birthmark, just below her left eye (if looking from the front, it would be on the right). Sometimes, she will even use eyeliner to draw the dot into a heart, as if to say she wears her heart on her cheek. Though she often feels stupid doing so.
Personality
Elizabeth has always grown up getting whatever she wanted, so much so that she often felt badly for her friends who didn't get the same. She often shared her lunches, brought friends on trips overseas, and generally tried to share her good fortunes with them. She tries not to think about whether or not they're friends for her money or her personality, but she can't really ever be certain.
Elizabeth is a warm and soft individual, if soft can even be used to describe someone. She is generally soft spoken and smiles constantly. She's not often found in a bad mood, preferring to see the bright side of literally everything. She'll say whatever needs to be said to cheer up her friends, even if it means blaming herself.
Elizabeth's biggest flaw comes with her parents. They are probably the only people she ever gets upset around. Talks with her mom usually end in yelling matches and chats with her dad never really lasted very long. Whenever topics about parents ever come up, Elizabeth either avoids the conversation or pretends like it doesn't bother her that her parents are never around. After the topic is brought up or she's had a run in with either parent, Elizabeth will usually seclude herself somewhere to cry before emerging later to find solace in her friends. She doesn't share her burdens, rather wishing to deal with them on her own.
In school, Elizabeth is studious and despite her piercings and tattoos and hair she's pretty smart. She was one or two grades away from Salutatorian, and graduated with tons of awards and honors. Despite not making the grade for Salutatorian, Elizabeth still got many offers from many different colleges for mostly full or half rides, not that she needed the help but if she denied the help, her dad would have her hide.
Despite being soft spoken and studious, Elizabeth does have her comedic side and likes to crack jokes and use sarcasm to battle unwanted conversation or to simply cause giggles within the group. She likes to see people happy and will often do whatever she can to make it happen.
Backstory
Elizabeth has grown up with a silver spoon in her mouth, whether she likes it or not. She wasn't a planned child and her mother made certain Elizabeth was aware of it by the time Elizabeth was old enough to even understand. Her parents were never home, always either at work, on vacation, or on business trips. Her dad is an accountant, a shareholder of the firm he'd been working at and her mother was a rather world famous fashion designer, Vivian Rose (her alias, her real name is Margaret Sumpter, and Elizabeth always makes it a point to call her Maggie on the phone since it upsets her so much).
Elizabeth, despite her parent's absence, found joy in her grandfather's presence. She often had the drivers take her to his home, where she would spend weeks before being forced to return. The Sumpter Estate was actually originally his property and when he passed away when Elizabeth was 12 years old, she was given the home in his will, along with a few other knick-knacks and gardening supplies. It was from this man, and his second wife, that Elizabeth found her love for plants and gardens, and crocheting. Since his death, she'd gone to the home every month to check on the garden and green house. Since, she's been studying to become a botanist and work for a science company to improve farms and green houses around the US, as well as own her own.
In school, finding good friends was always hard for Elizabeth. Most people only wanted to befriend her for the money that came with her but there were a few that she found that generally enjoyed being around her as much as she enjoyed being around them.
Future Plans
-Go to Duke University and earn a BA in Botany
-Apply for Masters degree at Princeton in Chemistry
-Join BoTech as a scientist and evaluator of farms and greenhouses.
Likes/Dislikes
Indie/Instrumental/Latin/Oriental Music
Junk Food
Friends
Plants
Flowers
Family
Betrayal
Winter
Squirrels/Raccoons
Metal Genre of Music
Other
There is a pet dog on the estate named Frodo. He is very friendly and loves everyone willing to pet him. He barks at strangers until he realizes they mean no harm but hates children as the neighbor's kids used to terrorize him. Frodo is 6 years old.
"Everything is possible with sunshine and a little pink."
Elizabeth's Relationship Sheet
Elizabeth - "I try to be the best person I can be every day, though I know I'm not perfect. I do try to combat that fact by giving what I can to others." "I met myself when I first saw my reflection! ;)"
1. What are your names?
"Am I suppose to have more than one name? Well, I only have one and it's Elizabeth Rose-Kelly Sumpter."
2. Do you know why you were named that?
"Mom liked it? Dad really didn't have much say in the matter. The only the thing mattered to him was already automatic, so he just let Mom have her way."
3. What are you?
"What an... odd question. I'm me? Do you mean to ask if I'm human? Because I think that's painfully clear when you look at me."
4. What's your gender?
"Female."
5. How old are you?
"Nineteen."
6. What do you think your life expectancy is?
"Another weird question. Probably like 80? My grandfather lived to about 83 before he passed, so I guess that's a good a marker as any."
7. What's your height?
"Pretty average, I'd say. I'm 5 feet, 5 inches tall."
8. What's your eye color?
"Hazel, though they can appear blue in certain lights."
9. How about hair color?
"Blonde but I started dying it pink before high school."
10. Do you think you're attractive?
"I think I am, but I don't spend too much time trying to impress anyone so it's not like I really care. I care more about how other people feel just not necessarily about me."
11. Do you have any features that you want to get rid of, if you could?
"The dot on my face, though I do feel like it's a part of me. But still, it's kind of annoying."
12. How would you introduce yourself? If you are famous in your world, how would you introduce yourself to someone who had never heard of you?
"My world? Famous? ...Okay. Well, I'm Elizabeth and I really like meeting new people."
13. Have any abilities or powers?
"P-Powers? I guess you could say I have a green thumb but I don't think that's a power more of a skill... developed over time. You guys are weird with these odd questions..."
14. Stop being a Mary-sue!
"A mary-what? What the heck is a Mary-Sue? That's not my name."
15. What do you usually wear?
"Clothes? Anything that's comfortable, really. I like wearing t-shirts and long sleeve shirts with jeans, mostly. I'm not really a skirt or dress kind of girl. I like wearing my hair up in a pony-tail too much it often just sort of gets in the way. I wear it down when I want to look cute though."
16. Do you ever walk around naked?
"Sometimes. Depends on who's going to end up seeing me like that and I don't often go full nude."
17. Ever cross-dressed before?
"Not intentionally. I do like men's clothes though, really comfortable."
18. What do you wear to bed?
"These questions are erring on the side of creepy now, to be honest... But I normally wear underwear and a t-shirt to bed."
19. What's in your pockets right now?
"My phone, a pocket knife, and pocket fuzz..."
20. To what social class do you belong?
"...The upper class."
21. What is your job?
"I'm unemployed at the moment."
22. What is your lifelong dream?
"To help as many people as I can in whatever way I can."
23. What is your worst nightmare?
"Being honestly and utterly alone."
24. How honest are you about your thoughts and feelings (i.e. do you hide your true self from others, and in what way)?
"I tend to keep my problems to myself so I don't inconvenience my friends. They don't need to hear about my problems because they have enough of their own."
25. What's one thing you like and one thing you dislike about your personality?
"I guess... I like my friendly nature but I dislike my inability to take care of myself. I foten get caught up in helping others that I forsake my own happiness. Sometimes it gets to the point where I think I might develop depression later, but that's just speculation. Besides, I don't think depression works that way."
26. What do you do on a regular basis?
"Garden, really."
27. Do you have any activities/hobbies that you like to do?
"...Gardening. I also like to crochet and binge watch netflix..."
28. That's cool, I guess. Now tell me something you don't like.
"You're rude... I don't like rude people."
29. What are you most afraid of?
"Being alone."
30. Have any secrets?
"I keep a lot of things secret like my problems and issues, but I guess if I had to say a secret I do keep... Nah. Then it wouldn't be a secret anymore."
31. Name your worst habits?
"Is that a question or a statement? I can't tell... I guess... Well, I eat a lot. Like... all day long, I'm always hungry. Is that a habit? I'm not sure."
32. Any nasty indulgences, like smoking or gambling?
"Uhhh... is chocolate an indulgence? Tumblr? Pinterest? Netflix? If so, yes."
33. Have any of you ever done illegal things knowingly (don't include petty things like jaywalking)? What were they?
"Okay but I'm the only one here... No, I've never done anything illegal."
34. Are you one to hold a grudge?
"No."
35. What do you do when you're upset?
"What kind of upset? Angry upset? Crying upset? Because it's different for each. If I'm angry, I tend to read or color to try and calm myself down. When I'm really sad, I tend to just... sleep it off."
36. What's one thing that could potentially cause you to go into a blind rage?
"Hurt my friends and I might actually murder someone."
37. Is there anything you absolutely refuse to do under any circumstances? Why do you refuse to do it?
"That last question I sort of lied. I would never, ever ever kill any living thing by my own hands. I'm not saying I won't eat a burger, but I won't ever kill a cow with my own hands."
38. What's your preferred weapon of choice?
"Kindness."
39. What is your favorite colour?
"Pink."
40. Favorite drink?
"Sweet tea."
41. Alright. What's your favorite food?
"Watermelon."
42. What are your thoughts on pie?
"Apple or nothin'."
43. What's your favorite ice cream flavor?
"Cookie dough, please."
44. Where are you from?
"North Carolina."
45. What's your favorite place?
"The Sumpter Estate's garden."
46. What's your least favorite place?
"'Home.'"
47. Where do you wish you could be right now, regardless of whether it's real or not?
"That's easy. Hogwarts."
48. What is the first thing you tend to notice when you first meet someone?
"Hair. I don't know why, I just do."
49. What is your favorite season?
"Fall."
50. Do you believe in love at first sight?
"I have no reason not to."
51. Gay, straight, or bi?
"Straight as far as I'm aware. I've never thought of being with girls before..."
52. Are you interested in anyone?
53. What do you look for in a partner?
54. What's your idea of a perfect date?
55. Are you single or taken?
56. Are you a virgin?
57. Have you ever kissed anyone? If so, who was your first? Who was your last?
58. What is your favorite thing to touch?
59. Ever wanna marry and have kids one day?
60. Have any family members?
61. Oh? How about pets?
62. How many friends do you have?
63. If the one you cared most about in your life were to somehow die today, how would you react and what would you do?
64. Do you look up to anyone at all?
65. Do you hate anyone?
66. Who is your worst enemy?
67. Have you ever hurt anyone in anyway before?
68. Ever... killed anyone before?
69. Under what circumstances do you think killing someone justified, in general?
70. Are you wanted for anything?
71. Uh... if you were to get in a fight with a strong wrestler, do you think you'd win?
72. What's one of your fondest childhood memories?
73. If you could go back and change one thing about the past, would you? What would you change?
74. What kind of animal are you most like?
75. Do/did you go to school?
76. Do you have fangirls/fanboys?
77. If you're a girl, what's your cup size? If you're a guy, how big are you?
78. What's one phrase you overuse?
79. Would you rather swim in a lake or the ocean?
80. Have you ever gone skinny dipping?
81. How long can you stay under water?
82. Any fetishes?
83. Seme or uke?
84. Which do you like more, sad stories or happy stories?
85. Camping or indoors?
86. Do you like to sing or dance?
87. To what degree do you avoid risks and danger?
88. What makes you vulnerable?
89. Under what circumstance would you risk your own life for someone else?
90. How would you describe your current adventuring companions to a friend you trust?
91. What do you do to relax?
92. What's the best piece of advice you've ever had?
93. Name three things you consider yourself to be very good at, and three things you consider yourself to be very bad at.
94. If you could choose, how would you want to die?
95. If you knew you were going to die in 24 hours, name three things you would do in the time you had left.
96. What's one word that best describes you?
97. What would you do if you could meet your creator?
98. What are your impressions about the other interviewees?
99. Do you even want to be here?
100. What do you spend most of your time doing?
"Broken crayons still color."-Unknown
Name Geneva Ivy Rose
Age 18
"There is no angry way to say bubbles."-Unknown
Indepth Appearance
Eva is a petite asian female, standing at 5'2", weighing a mere 96 lbs. Her hair is long, soft, and in certain lights appears almost strawberry brown. Her skin is like porcelain and her face is oval in shape. Her face is small but healthy in that it is thin but still full of life. Her smile is small and her expressions soft. (This doesn't mean she always looks as graceful as she does in her photos.)
The one blemish on her skin comes in the form of a scar on the back of her head. The scar has been with her as long as she can remember and was the product of a rather serious accident where she fell from a bridge and her head hit the bottom of the river.
"If there are no ups and downs in your life, it means you're dead."-Unknown
Personality
• Silly • Confident • Blunt •
Eva is a playful girl and likes to laugh and have fun. Summer and Spring are her favorite seasons and people that can match her energy are her favorite kinds of people. She is comfortable in her own skin, though like everyone she has her fair share of insecurities.
Eva fears that she is lost. She fears that when death knocks on her door, she will reflect back on her life and not like it. That she won't accomplish anything worth-while. She fears becoming the kind of people she hates, that is those that do nothing but play around with others.
Eva is also very blunt. She is very much a "Won't take shit." kind of person. This doesn't mean she's no-nonsense. Eva just knows when to stop someone from crossing the line. She believes firmly that if you don't clearly draw the lines for someone, you will never gain respect from them. She doesn't take disrespect very well, be it for herself or for others.
Eva also behaves very much like a vigilante. She loves to be a protector and will often put herself in situations where she becomes the target to protect the little person. She knows that she can handle a beating, when others maybe can't. She is very strong-willed, though she'll cry when alone (something she got from her mother, Maria). Even if it means much more pain later, she'd rather stand tall in front of everyone, and collapse later when alone.
"I must be a mermaid. I have no fear of depths, and a great fear of shallow living."-Anais Nin
Backstory
Eva was born to rich parents but under odd circumstances she was separated from them. When Eva was born, she looked very much like another baby that was also born that day, same time, same weight, everything. They were so identical at birth that when the nurses went to put Eva back in her crib, she accidentally placed her in Eva (Eva's real name is Annalise Peterson). It took a few years for Maria to realize that her daughter looked nothing like her and a quick check confirmed her suspicions.
A year later, Eva was brought to her parents where she would be forced to live. Eva, however, had other ideas. She refused to be called Ana and often ran away from home to go back to who she considered her real family, her grandmother. Eventually, the king and queen decided it was in their daughter's best interest to let her do as she pleased. They would get nowhere confining her. Maria was quoted to have said, "She's so much like me that keeping her without her consent is practically impossible if I want to keep a good relationship with her."
Years later, on Eva's 17th birthday, her grandmother passed away. Since she's been living with her real parents rather reluctantly. Eva had been introduced to Elizabeth via her real parents when she was younger and always held a distaste for the girl until they got to know one another. She soon realized that she and Elizabeth were actually more similar than they were different, Elizabeth just handle the whole 'rich' title better than Eva did. Elizabeth soon included Eva in all of the friend-outings and Eva grew close to them, considering them her new family.
"A lack of boundaries invites a lack of respect."-Unknown
Future Plans
- Eva has no future plans as of right now. She's living job to job, trying to figure it all out.
Likes/Dislikes
Sunshine
Spicy Foods
Movies
Strawberries
Flowers
Books
Disrespect
Animals
Overly Sweet Foods
Grayscale Colors
Family
Being Lost (Fear)
Accomplishing Nothing (Fear)
Water (Fear)
Other
I Ain't Your Momma - J-Lo
When you're gon' get your act together?
I ain't your mama
No, I ain't your mama
No, I ain't your mama, no
Colorcode: Coral
FC: Park Shin Hye
"He offered her the world. She replied, 'I have my own.'"-Unknown
Eva's Relationship Sheet
Eva - "Lack of direction in life, floater, generally doesn't have her shit together. But I make a mean chocolate pancake, so there's that." "I'm pretty sure I still don't know who I am."
Name Sarah Kleine
Age A woman never tells her age!
Indepth Appearance
Madam Kleine is a beautiful woman who holds herself to a certain standard. She often described as someone who is very... soothing. She is comfortable in her skin and it shows. She stands in a relax manner, often holding herself upright and tall, despite her already tall body. She embraces the wrinkles on her skin, calling each one a wonderful and loving memory. She will often joke and say that "this wrinkle represents the day my husband brought home that god-awful puppy." or "This wrinkle is the day my son brought home his first wife. And this one is the second. And this one is the third," all the while grinning and laughing.
Madam Kleine is a well rounded woman, having already seen much of the world in her youth. She loves life and all who live in hers, and it shows. She is often seen is very fashionable clothing, but also always seems to be comfortable in what she wears. It isn't that her clothes are fashionable, it's that she, herself, makes them fashionable in her countenance, in her walk. Never has anyone called her, "Grandma."
Personality
Sweet as can be but tough enough to tell you the truth, Madam Kleine is everyone's grandmother all while never being a grandmother at all. She loves to gossip with the girls but also holds herself to a certain standard. She'll never shy away from playing a game of COD or SSMB with the guys.
Many people would tell you she is a young soul in an older body, but she would gladly disagree with you. She just claims that she just found the secret of life, enjoy it as much as possible and take every opportunity to live your life within reason.
Backstory
A former wife and mother, Madam Kleine has since lost all of her family, saying goodbye to them before their time. Now, she spends her time taking care of the Sumpter family, the family of her sister-in-law. She retired from her job as a fashion designer and became the family's maid.
Future Plans
-Support the Sumpter family for as long as she is able.
Likes/Dislikes
Outdoors
Novels (Romance especially)
Art
Sweet foods
Animals
Cold Temperatures
Water (Swimming)
Spicy foods
Nonfiction
Sewing
Other
"My only advice to you is this... If you want to be a Queen, you must first act like one."
Sarah's Relationship Sheet
Sarah - "I am the queen of my life." "I think I truly met myself when I was forced to live on my own, without my side kicks." |
49,099 | 1,325 | 6 | 1,126 | 802 | | |
Brandon stood in awe at the size of the mansion, oblivious to everything else until someone tapped him on the shoulder. Terrified that he had somehow committed a faux pas or perhaps that a policeman had come to cart away someone who was so obviously out of place, Brandon jumped a bit at the touch and turned to see who his potential assailant was with wide eyes betraying his emotions. The sight of Amelia in her white dress assured him there was little to worry about, but it did not slow his panicked heartbeat much.
The small amounts of sign language Brandon had picked up over a few years of chatting with Amelia (and a summer course he had taken between his 7th- and 8th-grade years) helped him understand what Amelia was asking, and he returned her smile with one of his own. "Amelia! I didn't see you drive up!" Out of all of his friends, Brandon had most hoped Amelia would be present. Not sure what else he should say, and feeling like his gift was rather our of place, he held the bouquet of a dozen roses out to Amelia. "Uh... I brought a gift. Do you want one?"
He was still holding the roses towards Amelia when Jocelyn approached. Without even realizing he was doing so, he retracted the flowers. "Oh, I could carry one if you want," Brandon offered. He only had a single bag anyways, and despite not having participated in many sports or other strength-building exercises, he still had a decent amount of natural muscle on his large frame. "Truth is, I don't really know what to expect. I hope it will be pretty fun."
Brandon had barely gotten the words out of his mouth when the door opened and they were welcomed. A peek inside left Brandon completely dumbfounded. He was relatively sure his entire house could fit inside the first room in this estate. He was still gawking when Eva brushed past him and dropped her bags off as if it were just another day for her. He didn't even get a chance to say hello before she was on to the next room.
In all the confusion, one thing stood out in his mind. He had seen Eva, Jocelyn, and Amelia, and the maid had mentioned Elizabeth. That was four girls... and just him? This would either be the most uncomfortable or most fun summer Brandon had ever experienced. He stepped inside the building and briefly set down his own bag. "Uh... nice place?" he offered hesitantly to the butlers standing nearby. | I’m not even sure why I came, but since I’m here, better make the most of it. ———————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————
name.
Brandon Scoville.
nicknames.
Bran, B
sex.
Male
age.
18
appearance.
height.
5’11”
weight.
220 lb.
body type.
Chubby.
other/description.
Not being one to care much about sports or other strenuous activity, Brandon is a bit on the chunky side. He typically wears glasses, but during important events (and he considers this summer one), he wears contacts instead. His typical attire includes jeans and a polo collared shirt. His messy brown hair is not noteworthy, but his strongest positive feature is his blue eyes. A girl once complimented his eyes, and he didn’t stop blushing for a week.
personality.
Brandon is a nice enough guy, but he’s never been what one would call a partier. In fact, he wasn’t going to accept the invitation to stay in the mansion for the summer, but his parents insisted. He is the typical nerd: salutatorian of the class and captain of the math team (the only varsity letter he got). He nearly always treats others nicely (unless they’ve been treating someone else poorly), but he often misjudges social situations and says the wrong thing.
That said, Brandon has a heart of gold. Those he considers his friends are the world to him, even if he doubts they feel the same way. He would stand up for anyone who was mistreated, and once got punched in the face defending a friend from a bully (which ironically also got Brandon suspended for the first time in his life).
backstory.
Being the youngest of four children, Brandon always felt as if he were neglected in life. He had two older sisters and an older brother, all of which were very active in sports and other extracurricular activities. Brandon, by contrast, focused more on studies than sports.
Brandon started life as an adorable charismatic kid, but in his tenth year, several major things happened to him. His family moved, forcing him to switch schools; his grandfather died, with whom he was extremely close; and he was subject to abuse from his brother, the effects of which he wouldn’t truly realize until some time passed. With all these things crashing down, Brandon found it hard to cope, withdrawing into video games and anime instead of spending time making friends.
By the time he reached high school, Brandon was already significantly overweight. As such, he never considered himself attractive enough to be worthy of dating, overlooking his other positive traits. Indeed, he has never been in any sort of true relationship, although he has crushed pretty hard on a few of his classmates over the years. He would never admit it to them for fear of (in his eyes, imminent) rejection. He considers himself broken goods, and has essentially consigned himself to a life with little possibility of romance.
Brandon has a habit of avoiding social gatherings, and without his parents’ insistence, he would not be at this summer-long get-together. His parents decided that he needed more social interactions, perhaps looking back on their own youths and wishing they had fewer regrets. Whatever the reason, Brandon approaches the gathering with some trepidation, having no idea what to expect.
future plans.
Brandon was one of ten people in the school to go all four years on the honor roll, and one of two to get all As for all four years. Sadly, one of his college credit classes gave him a bit more trouble than he anticipated, and he slipped to salutatorian instead of valedictorian. The effort was enough to land him with a full scholarship to Virginia Tech on an engineering program. The scholarship has taken the pressure off Brandon to find a job to pay for his classes, and as he is not a partier, he has little need for funding other than snacks and hobbies. However, he laments that he will be leaving his friends behind.
likes/dislikes.
anime, Asians, difficult thought-provoking questions, learning, engineering, video games, and basically every single girl in the high school
complex social situations, prejudice, shallowness, people who aren’t able to listen in a conversation |
49,100 | 1,325 | 7 | 1,159 | 3,529 | Amelia watched Brandon's demeanor as he spoke to her. It was obvious that he felt a bit nervous, though she noted he was always nervous around girls. When he brought up that he hadn't seen her drive up to the house, her smile faltered and her expression turned to one he was probably all to familiar with. It was one that was a mixture of fear and disappointment, the expression she only had when it came to matters regarding her brother. It probably wouldn't be hard for her friend to figure out what had happened.
When Brandon offered her a flower from the bouquet he was carrying, Amelia smiled again and managed to take out a rose before Brandon withdrew the gift. She watched as both he and Eva entered the house, Brandon once again gaining a dumbstruck look on his face while Eva dropped her stuff off and, in Amelia's opinion, rudely dismissed the servants. Amelia approached the butlers as well, putting down her suitcase but keeping her bag, giving them a kind smile and a wave before leaving to find Elizabeth.
It would take her a few minutes of wondering around the gardens to find the person who was like an older sister to her, working on the flowerbeds. She silently approached and gently tapped Elizabeth on the shoulder. Once she had her friends attention, she gave Elizabeth a kind smile before proceeding to 'talk'.
Hi Elizabeth. Where are the showers? My brother was... well my brother and dropped me off about a mile from here to walk the rest of the way. She signed, knowing Elizabeth was likely the only one in the house she could have a full conversation with that only involved sign language. Elizabeth would probably understand why, since Amelia was not the most athletic girl and would likely need a shower after walking such a distance in this weather. | Name
Amelia Artemia Averyonna
Age
18
Indepth Appearance
Amelia is a short, petite girl, just barely standing at a full five feet tall and weighting a mere hundred and ten pounds. Her skin is fair and flawless, not marred by any tattoos or piercings, though the occasional bit of acne can show up. Amelia generally does not use make-up but she does use skincare products to keep her skin healthy, preferring to let her natural beauty shine through.
Amelia's gold blonde hair falls down just past her shoulders and is straight until it get's closer to the tips, at which point it begins to curl unless she straightens them. She generally keeps her hair loose and let's it fall naturally, only running a comb or brush through it to get rid of the knots and keep it somewhat neat. The only time Amelia ties her hair up is when she need to concentrate or keep it out of the way, usually when she's working on a project or sketching.
Amelia's eyes are a steely blue, not quite grey but not quite blue either. One odd feature of her eyes is a small ring of what appears to be a shade of orange close to her pupil, which is only noticeable to those who actually examine them closely.
Personality
Amelia is a very shy and reclusive girl, which is not helped by her muteness and fondness for quiet places. Preferring the company of nature to the company of other humans, Amelia tends to shun social gatherings in order to spend time by herself and go for a walk around town, particularly the local parks and gardens. However, she is not completely anti-social. Once one can get out her shy personality and inability to talk, they can find a girl who values the company of others, especially those she counts among her friends. She is willing to listen to them and let them vent their griefs to her and help them get over their problems so long as it is within her ability and she feels that 'helping' will not hurt them more.
Like all people though, she is not without her downsides. Other then her overly shy nature, Amelia lacks any and all traces of self-confidence. She views her sketches and paintings as average or, more often, below average, despite that fact that they are very detailed and realistic works of art. She is also scared that she won't live up to the expectations of others, especially her parents and those she considers friends. To her, disappointing them is tantamount to failing at life. While she is eager the please others, she has a strong sense of right and wrong and will not do anything she views as wrong, even if pressured to do so. If she loses a friend doing something she knows is right, she at least takes solace in doing the right thing, even if she feels terrible afterwards.
When it comes to love, Amelia is inexperienced but knows what she wants. She wants someone who doesn't force her to do things she doesn't want to and will support her, even in the toughest of times, as well being able to accept everything about her, good and bad. However, she doubts anyone would even be interested in her and doesn't have high hopes of finding anyone. This is not helped by her appearance, as she feels vastly underdeveloped compared to some of the other girl's she was around.
Backstory
Born to a middle class family consisting of her father Thomas, a small time business man, her mother Erina, who owned a flower shop, and her older brother Arthur, Amelia has lead a mostly sheltered the protected life. From a very young age, Amelia's health was concerned. The first known problem was her muteness, which was immediately obvious from birth. The second concern was her immune system, which seemed on the weaker side, causing her to get sick quickly and recover slowly.
One of Amelia's favorite activities early on in her life was drawing, something she would spend most of her time doing. By the time she was in second grade, her artistic skills were well beyond those of her peers. She was able to accurately draw the flowers in her mother's shop, albeit without the details needed to be considered truly accurate. Seeing this, her parents signed her up for extra art classes and began pushing her to improve. As time went on, they would become overly critical of her work, to the point that it seemed like nothing would satisfy them.
To make matters worse, her brother wasn't very supportive of her either. Jealous of all the attention his little sister was receiving, the boy began bullying her while they were still young. Taking advantage of her inability to talk, and therefore call for help, and inability to fight back for fear of causing more drama, the boy would pull off various malicious, sometimes cruel, stunts. When Amelia was only six, he locked her out of the house during a thunderstorm while their parents were away, only letting her in in time for her to take a bath and change cloths before their parents came home, leaving the girl traumatized for life. As time went on, he would leave her alone but his attitude towards her is still antagonistic and he often belittles her.
Other then her home life, and the expectations placed upon her, Amelia has lead a rather normal, uneventful life until four years ago. Moving up in the business world, Amelia's father can now afford to send her to more expensive schools and, just after her freshman year began, had his daughter transferred to a new high school. The transition was rough for her, as she quickly became a target for bullying due to her shy nature and inability to talk. It wasn't until Elizabeth stepped in and stood up for her that things began getting better. Elizabeth brought Amelia into her group of friends and helped Amelia come out of her shell a bit as well as get to know everyone. Amelia in return became very loyal to Elizabeth and has done her best to support Elizabeth however she can throughout the years.
Future Plans
Amelia is unsure of what she wants to do. For now, she's just living life and trying to have fun while figuring out what SHE wants to do without her parent's interference.
Likes/Dislikes
Visual art
Nature
Rainy Days
Sweets
Her Friends
Sunny Days
Metal Music
Spicy Food
Bullying of any kind
Her Brother (More of a fear)
Thunder and Lightning (Major Phobia)
Being Unable to Meet Other's Expectation (Fear)
Other
Amelia always has an umbrella on her person to protect her skin from the sun.
Amelia's Answers
1. What are your names?
Amelia, Ame
2. Do you know why you were named that?
Ame is just what people call me when they don't feel like using my full name
3. What are you?
Human
4. What's your gender?
Female
5. How old are you?
18
6. What do you think your life expectancy is?
I'm not sure. Anything can happen in life after all.
7. What's your height?
5'
8. What's your eye color?
Steely Blue
9. How about hair color?
Gold Blond
10. Do you think you're attractive?
People sometimes say I am but I'm not really sure
11. Do you have any features that you want to get rid of, if you could?
Being mute
12. How would you introduce yourself? If you are famous in your world, how would you introduce yourself to someone who had never heard of you?
I'm not really sure. I don't think I'll be famous anyway
13. Have any abilities or powers?
People say I'm good at drawing and painting but I think I could do better.
14. Stop being a Mary-sue!
I-I highly doubt I am.
15. What do you usually wear?
It varies. Somedays I wear simple dresses, others I wear a t-shirt and jeans. But I usually wear white or light colors.
16. Do you ever walk around naked?
NEVER!
17. Ever cross-dressed before?
No!
18. What do you wear to bed?
Why do you want to know?
19. What's in your pockets right now?
Same as above.
20. To what social class do you belong?
Upper class
21. What is your job?
I don't currently have one
22. What is your lifelong dream?
I'm not sure.
23. What is your worst nightmare?
Being stuck with my brother during a storm.
24. How honest are you about your thoughts and feelings (i.e. do you hide your true self from others, and in what way)?
I'm not sure. I guess I am though.
25. What's one thing you like and one thing you dislike about your personality?
I'm not sure there's anything for me to like but I'm not sure I dislike anything either. I'm just me.
26. What do you do on a regular basis?
Draw and Paint
27. Do you have any activities/hobbies that you like to do?
See above.
28. That's cool, I guess. Now tell me something you don't like.
My older brother
29. What are you most afraid of?
Thunder storms.
30. Have any secrets?
That's a secret.
31. Name your worst habits?
Chewing my pencils or paintbrushes when I'm concentrating.
32. Any nasty indulgences, like smoking or gambling? No. Such things would distract me from my art.
33. Have any of you ever done illegal things knowingly (don't include petty things like jaywalking)? What were they?
No.
34. Are you one to hold a grudge?
No, what's the point?
35. What do you do when you're upset?
I just like to be alone and wait for the feeling to pass.
36. What's one thing that could potentially cause you to go into a blind rage?
I rarely get angry but I guess someone destroying my work.
37. Is there anything you absolutely refuse to do under any circumstances? Why do you refuse to do it?
I refuse to hurt others because it's pointless and causes unneeded strife.
38. What's your preferred weapon of choice?
Nothing
39. What is your favorite colour?
Teal.
40. Favorite drink?
Chocolate milk. More chocolate then milk.
41. Alright. What's your favorite food?
Sweets.
42. What are your thoughts on pie?
Chocolate is best.
43. What's your favorite ice cream flavor?
Orange and Cream.
44. Where are you from?
Allentown, Pennsylvania.
45. What's your favorite place?
Anywhere nice and calming.
46. What's your least favorite place?
Anywhere my brother is at.
47. Where do you wish you could be right now, regardless of whether it's real or not?
Paris.
48. What is the first thing you tend to notice when you first meet someone?
How they treat me when they find out I can't talk.
49. What is your favorite season?
Winter. Something about how still it can be is calming.
50. Do you believe in love at first sight?
No, not really.
51. Gay, straight, or bi?
That's really personal.
52. Are you interested in anyone?
Not at the moment
53. What do you look for in a partner?
Someone who respects and accepts me.
54. What's your idea of a perfect date?
I've never thought about it.
55. Are you single or taken?
I don't think you need to know.
56. Are you a virgin?
That is highly personal.
57. Have you ever kissed anyone? If so, who was your first? Who was your last?
The same as above.
58. What is your favorite thing to touch?
Paper and wooden paintbrushes.
59. Ever wanna marry and have kids one day?
I think that would be nice.
60. Have any family members?
My mother, father, and older brother.
61. Oh? How about pets?
None.
62. How many friends do you have?
Six or seven.
63. If the one you cared most about in your life were to somehow die today, how would you react and what would you do?
I Don't know. I don't want to think about it.
64. Do you look up to anyone at all?
Elizabeth I guess.
65. Do you hate anyone?
I don't hate anyone. Fear might be another story.
66. Who is your worst enemy?
My brother.
67. Have you ever hurt anyone in anyway before?
Maybe when I was very little, but never on purpose.
68. Ever... killed anyone before?
NO! And I pray I never do, for any reason, in any circumstance.
69. Under what circumstances do you think killing someone justified, in general?
Life is a precious thing that should never be taken on purpose.
70. Are you wanted for anything?
No.
71. Uh... if you were to get in a fight with a strong wrestler, do you think you'd win?
Never.
72. What's one of your fondest childhood memories?
Spending time in my mother's old flower shop.
73. If you could go back and change one thing about the past, would you? What would you change?
I'm not sure.
74. What kind of animal are you most like?
Cats. Their independent and confident in what they do.
75. Do/did you go to school?
Yes, I went to school.
76. Do you have fangirls/fanboys?
I don't think so.
77. If you're a girl, what's your cup size? If you're a guy, how big are you?
What's with all the very personal questions?!
78. What's one phrase you overuse?
I don't think I have one.
79. Would you rather swim in a lake or the ocean?
The ocean if it was one of the clear ones.
80. Have you ever gone skinny dipping?
Never.
81. How long can you stay under water?
Maybe a minute.
82. Any fetishes?
Another personal one but the answer is no.
83. Seme or uke? I don't know what this means.
84. Which do you like more, sad stories or happy stories? Happy.
85. Camping or indoors?
Both are fine with me but I think I prefer indoors more.
86. Do you like to sing or dance?
I'm completely incapable of singing and I have no interest in dancing.
87. To what degree do you avoid risks and danger?
A very high degree.
88. What makes you vulnerable?
Being unable to talk or call for help.
89. Under what circumstance would you risk your own life for someone else?
If they were someone I really cared about.
90. How would you describe your current adventuring companions to a friend you trust?
A very kind and caring bunch.
91. What do you do to relax?
Paint and draw, though it doesn't always work.
92. What's the best piece of advice you've ever had?
Just be true to yourself, no matter what others say.
93. Name three things you consider yourself to be very good at, and three things you consider yourself to be very bad at.
I guess I'm decent at art, but I'm not that good at it. I'm not really good any thing else but I'm really bad at sports.
94. If you could choose, how would you want to die?
Peacefully and painlessly.
95. If you knew you were going to die in 24 hours, name three things you would do in the time you had left.
All I would want to do is have a good time with my friends, if possible.
96. What's one word that best describes you?
Quiet.
97. What would you do if you could meet your creator?
I'm not really sure.
98. What are your impressions about the other interviewees?
Brandon's the only one to answer and he seems nice.
99. Do you even want to be here?
Yes.
100. What do you spend most of your time doing?
Art or just enjoying my friends company. |
49,101 | 1,325 | 8 | 1,611 | 644 | outfit
Jocelyn was about to take Brandon up on his offer of carrying one of her bags, but didn't quite get the chance to say so before the door swung open, Madam Kleine standing in the opening. She smiled brightly and spoke kindly, informing the bunch that Elizabeth in the garden, tea was in the living room, and that they should all leave their bags for the butlers to take up to their rooms. Just a second after Madam Kleine disappeared, however, Eva slipped past Jocelyn and into the house, uttering something about being starved. Shaking her head and smiling to herself, Jocelyn heaved the large bag back onto her shoulder and stepped inside after the girl. Unlike Eva, however, Jocelyn handed her bags to the butlers and thanked them before they left.
"I don't see how you only brought one bag, dude," Jocelyn said, redirecting her gaze towards Brandon, "I mean, we're gonna be here all Summer! You mean to tell me that you packed a hundred days worth of things in one bag?" She was just poking fun, of course. Most of her friends, from past experiences, knew that Jocelyn had a tendency to over-pack. Though, she didn't think of it as over-packing, more so being prepared for anything. It was like she always said, "you never know what might happen or what you'll need." Her parents never seemed to understand this aspect of their child, but chose not to question it. Hell, maybe it was a trait she inherited from her birth mother.
"Do you think we should go to the garden, see what Liz is up to?" Jocelyn took a quick look around, folding her arms across her chest. Apparently, Eva had gone in search of food. She'd join her if it wasn't for the chicken sandwich she'd eaten on the way over. The sound of tea in the living room wasn't all that appealing either, seeing as how she thought the drink was absolutely disgusting unless she filled it with enough sugar to fill a bathtub. | {"He who believes is strong; he who doubts is weak. Strong convictions precede great actions."}
- Louisa May Alcott
▾ Name: Jocelyn Nicole Fields
▾ Nickname: "Nickie"
▾ Age: Eighteen
▾ DOB: June Second
▾ In depth Appearance: Jocelyn is a curvaceous, young black woman, standing at five feet six inches tall and weighing in at a little over one-hundred forty pounds. Her skin is beautifully brown. Her soft-curled, shoulder length hair is dense but yielding, and thick enough to lose your fingers in. Although having a head full of gorgeous hair, Jocelyn prefers to wear her hair in protective styles (braids, weaves, wigs), which allow her hair to grow quicker and healthier. There's a certain elegance in the way that Jocelyn holds herself: good posture, long confident strides and head held high. She often looks taller than her height of 5'6, especially since she's always wearing heels whenever she has the chance.
Her eyes are large and almond shaped, the brown of the irises so dark that they almost appear to be black. Her eyes are fringed with long, thick lashes. She has a short, delicate nose and perfectly arched, dark eyebrows. Her face is heart-shaped; she has high cheekbones and a pointed chin. Her lips are full and always covered with a clear lip gloss. When smiling, you can see that she has two rows of perfectly white teeth, a slight overbite present. She has helix piercings, conch piercings, tragus piercings, and lobe piercings in both of her ears. She has a septum piercing, as well. Jocelyn has three tattoos: two on her left thigh and one on the back of her neck. She plans on getting more, despite her parents' disapproval.
When it comes to her fashion sense, Jocelyn always tries her best to "dress to impress." Her wardrobe consists of affordable, yet stunning pantsuits, dresses, blouses, and a wide array of heels, boots, and sneakers. She likes to look her best everyday, and usually spends about an hour each morning making sure that there's nothing out of place. It's rare to see her in a state of disarray, as her mother raised her to believe that she should always look prepared and presentable, especially when she's the most frazzled. When it comes to jewelry, Jocelyn does not like to be flashy. At the most, she'll wear a large pair of hoop earrings and a ring on her index finger. Every now and then, Jocelyn will visit the thrift store to find clothes that she can "revamp."
▾ Ambitious ▾ Stubborn ▾ Confident ▾ Untidy ▾
▾ Personality: The very first word that pops into one's mind when thinking about Jocelyn Fields is determination, and the second, ambitious. Everyone that knows Jocelyn knows that whenever she puts her mind to something, it will get done, regardless of whatever obstacles she has to push through in order to do so. Ever since she was a little girl, she has had a vision of where she is going in life, and will do everything in her power to get there. Despite all the odds, Jocelyn has managed to maintain a solid A average throughout middle and high school. She is intelligent and very articulate, and loves having meaningful conversations and debates with others. Her confidence is shown through her powerful mannerisms. She is, more often than not, very kind and humble, and is well liked by most of her peers. She is generally friendly, unless you give her a reason not to be.
While being confident in both herself and her actions, this is often to a fault. She is very opinionated, has trouble asking for help, and hates admitting when she's wrong. When things don't go as planned or in a positive direction, she can get frustrated very easily. Jocelyn also has a bit of a "potty mouth," and uses profanity even when she isn't trying to. In addition to these shortcomings, Jocelyn is also stubborn and untidy. She has trouble keeping things neat and in order; her book bag and locker all throughout school, for example, were always complete messes. Somehow, however, she always knew exactly where her things were. Despite all of her flaws, there's no denying that Jocelyn is kind and dependable. If you ask her to meet you somewhere, she will be there; if she promises to do something, she will do it; if you ask her for help, she will do everything in her power to assist. Overall, Jocelyn is a kind soul looking to find her place in this world.
▾ Backstory: Jocelyn was born and raised in the "ghetto" slums of Brooklyn, New York. She was an only child, a product of an unexpected and unwanted teen pregnancy. Despite being deemed "not ready" to raise a kid by her family, Jocelyn's mother still brought her "bundle of joy" into this world. After just two long months of motherhood, however, Jocelyn's mother had reached her breaking point. After being forced to move into her baby father's place and fend for herself (and her newborn), her mother had much trouble affording clothes, diapers, and formula for her child. Jocelyn's father dropped out of high school and got a job, but it still wasn't enough to support all three of them. Long story short, the parents decided to put their baby girl up for adoption, and not much later, she was taken in by a beautiful Dominican couple originally from North Carolina.
Growing up, Jocelyn was always very independent and ambitious. In elementary school, she was often recognized and rewarded for her academic and social achievements. Her adoptive parents were both high school teachers, and pushed for their daughter to partake in numerous activities: piano lessons, basketball, spelling bees, volunteer work, etc. From the age of seven, Jocelyn knew that she was adopted as a baby, but had no great desire of meeting her birth parents. However, that did not stop her from figuring out who they were and digging up as much information about them as she could. She took many trips to the area at which she was born, the neighborhood not too far from her own, and even visited the high school she would have attended had the couple decided to keep her.
Before her Sophomore year, Jocelyn's daddy moved the family to a small town in North Carolina because of a job promotion; he would soon become the principal of a local high school. Not being used to living in the country, Jocelyn immediately felt out of place within the town. For a long time she missed the commotion of the city, her friends back home, and even the stray cat she used to feed on her walk to class everyday. This changed as time went on, and she began to make more friends and connections within her new school. She also had the chance to connect with family members she never even knew existed.
▾ Future Plans: After pushing through high school while consistently maintaining an A average, Jocelyn plans to attend Howard University in Washington D.C., and double major in both Psychology and Pre-Med. She plans to minor in African-American Studies so that she can get a better understanding of her history. After Med-School, Jocelyn plans on becoming a licensed Psychiatrist and working until she can open her own private practice. While paying for all of this schooling may prove to be extremely difficult, Jocelyn is confident that her future will pan out the way it's supposed to.
▾ Likes/Dislikes:
▾ Underground Rap/Hip-Hop
▾ Conspiracy Theories
▾ Spicy Foods
▾ Basketball/Football/Baseball
▾ Most Sweets; they make her teeth ache.
▾ Country music
▾ Large insects
▾ Racism, Prejudice, Homophobia, etc.
▾ Other:
It's A Man's Man's Man's World - James Brown
This is a man's world
This is a man's world
But it wouldn't be nothing, nothing
Without a woman or a girl
FC: Yara Shahidi
CC: #404193
1. What are your names? "Jocelyn Nicole Fields. Some call me Nickie, Some call me Lyn. Whatever floats their boat."
2. Do you know why you were named that? "I was named after my grandmother, God rest her soul."
3. What are you? "A young, ambitious, cool ass black woman."
4. What's your gender? "Emphasis on the word woman."
5. How old are you? "Eighteen"
6. What do you think your life expectancy is? "I'll live a long life."
7. What's your height? "Five feet, Six inches without heels."
8. What's your eye color? "Brown"
9. How about hair color? "Dark brown"
10. Do you think you're attractive? "Abso-fucking-lutely."
11. Do you have any features that you want to get rid of, if you could? "Well, I guess I could drop a few dress sizes...."
12. How would you introduce yourself? If you are famous in your world, how would you introduce yourself to someone who had never heard of you? "If things end up going according to plan, everyone will have heard of me."
13. Have any abilities or powers? "The fuck does this look like, Harry Potter? Next."
14. Stop being a Mary-sue! "Excuse you?"
15. What do you usually wear? "Heels, heels, and more heels."
16. Do you ever walk around naked? "When I'm in the comfort of my own home, of course."
17. Ever cross-dressed before? "No."
18. What do you wear to bed? "Depends on the temperature."
19. What's in your pockets right now? "My cell phone, a tube of chapstick and... oooh, gum!"
20. To what social class do you belong? "Middle Class"
21. What is your job? "I don't have a job. My parents want me to 'focus on school.'"
22. What is your lifelong dream? "I want to be a psychiatrist, open up my own practice, write a few books..."
23. What is your worst nightmare? "My family disowning me."
24. How honest are you about your thoughts and feelings (i.e. do you hide your true self from others, and in what way)? "I'm honest about most things. If I feel a certain way, I will express it. I tend to think out loud."
25. What's one thing you like and one thing you dislike about your personality? "I like how I have grown to be more extroverted. I do not like my stubbornness."
26. What do you do on a regular basis? "Wake up. Wash my ass and brush my teeth. Go to school. Come home. Do homework. Repeat. It'll change, occasionally, if I have a club meeting or plan to volunteer at the shelter. Oh, and if my friends want to hang out."
27. Do you have any activities/hobbies that you like to do? "I like listening to music, a lot. Especially Conscious Rap and old R&B jams. I'm in a lot of clubs, too, but I don't think they'd qualify as something I 'like.'"
28. That's cool, I guess. Now tell me something you don't like. "Country music, sweets, large bugs, soccer."
29. What are you most afraid of? "Being a fuck up, disappointing everyone."
30. Have any secrets? "I don't generally tell people that I was adopted, so if you could keep that on the low, that would be dope."
31. Name your worst habits? I say a curse word every other fuckin' word, unless I try my hardest not to."
32. Any nasty indulgences, like smoking or gambling? "I smoke Black & Milds when my parents aren't around. I also smoke weed, but I wouldn't really count that as nasty."
33. Have any of you ever done illegal things knowingly (don't include petty things like jaywalking)? What were they? "Other than underage smoking and drinking? No."
34. Are you one to hold a grudge? "Hell yeah."
35. What do you do when you're upset? "If I'm angry, I'll go the fuck off. If I'm sad, I'll isolate myself until the feeling is gone."
36. What's one thing that could potentially cause you to go into a blind rage? "Racism, Homophobia, Ignorance, Disrespect."
37. Is there anything you absolutely refuse to do under any circumstances? Why do you refuse to do it? "I'm not sure."
38. What's your preferred weapon of choice? "These hands."
39. What is your favorite colour? "Orange."
40. Favorite drink? "Strawberry Soda"
41. Alright. What's your favorite food? "BBQ Chicken wings."
42. What are your thoughts on pie? "I love pie, especially sweet potato."
43. What's your favorite ice cream flavor? "I don't eat ice cream, I eat Sherbet."
44. Where are you from? "Brooklyn."
45. What's your favorite place? "I like visiting the park. It's quiet."
46. What's your least favorite place? "School."
47. Where do you wish you could be right now, regardless of whether it's real or not? "Hogwarts."
48. What is the first thing you tend to notice when you first meet someone? "Their teeth."
49. What is your favorite season? "Autumn."
50. Do you believe in love at first sight? "No, that's idiotic."
51. Gay, straight, or bi? "Bisexual."
52. Are you interested in anyone? "No."
53. What do you look for in a partner? "I look for someone who I can just vibe with. That type of person who can talk about anything and everything, who has an open mind and free spirit."
54. What's your idea of a perfect date? "Laying on the rooftop at midnight, looking at the stars and having a deep conversation."
55. Are you single or taken? "I'm single..."
56. Are you a virgin? "No."
57. Have you ever kissed anyone? If so, who was your first? Who was your last? "My first kiss was my best friend back in third grade. We were young and experimenting. She thought the kiss was gross, and I thought it was fucking fantastic. My last kiss was an ex boyfriend, about a year and a half ago."
58. What is your favorite thing to touch? "What's up with these stupid ass questions, yo?"
59. Ever wanna marry and have kids one day? "Marriage, sure. I want to adopt all of my children."
60. Have any family members? "Too many to count."
61. Oh? How about pets? "As if my pops would ever let an animal into the house."
62. How many friends do you have? "I have many friends, some closer than others."
63. If the one you cared most about in your life were to somehow die today, how would you react and what would you do? "I'd cry for months."
64. Do you look up to anyone at all? "I look up to a lot of inspiring people: Michelle Obama, Viola Davis, Beyonce, Oprah... The list goes on."
65. Do you hate anyone? "Shonda. Fucking. Rhimes. She literally kills off every great character on Grey's Anatomy. That shit is ridiculous!"
66. Who is your worst enemy? "Myself."
67. Have you ever hurt anyone in anyway before? "Everyone has hurt someone, even if it was unintentional. It happens."
68. Ever... killed anyone before? "Who the fuck do you think I am?"
69. Under what circumstances do you think killing someone justified, in general? "If they're like, a child molester or some other sick shit."
70. Are you wanted for anything? "No."
71. Uh... if you were to get in a fight with a strong wrestler, do you think you'd win? "I'm gonna let you look at me... just for a minute. Now, tell me, do you think I could beat up a strong ass wrestler? Yeah, that's what I thought."
72. What's one of your fondest childhood memories? "Back up north, my mom used to take me to see the Rockefeller Center Christmas Tree every Christmas eve."
73. If you could go back and change one thing about the past, would you? What would you change? "I would have introduced myself to my birth mother. Maybe we'd have some kind of relationship."
74. What kind of animal are you most like? "Fox."
75. Do/did you go to school? "Obviously."
76. Do you have fangirls/fanboys? "No?"
77. If you're a girl, what's your cup size? If you're a guy, how big are you? "38, double D."
78. What's one phrase you overuse? "What the fuck?"
79. Would you rather swim in a lake or the ocean? "Neither."
80. Have you ever gone skinny dipping? "Yes."
81. How long can you stay under water? "I don't go under water, my hair will get wet and gross. Do you know how long it takes to wash this stuff?"
82. Any fetishes? "If I did, I would not tell you. I'm not that open."
83. Seme or uke? "What the fuck is that?"
84. Which do you like more, sad stories or happy stories? "Sad stories."
85. Camping or indoors? "Indoors. I'd rather not get eaten alive my bugs.
86. Do you like to sing or dance? "I love to dance. Singing is only done in the shower."
87. To what degree do you avoid risks and danger? "Pretty high degree."
88. What makes you vulnerable? "Sharing my weaknesses, admitting my mistakes, falling in love and trusting someone for the first time."
89. Under what circumstance would you risk your own life for someone else? "I wouldn't unless I was like ninety percent sure that I wouldn't die. Like, yeah I love you, but..."
90. How would you describe your current adventuring companions to a friend you trust? "I love them. They're like a second family."
91. What do you do to relax? "Put on some R&B, roll a spliff, and sit in my beanbag chair."
92. What's the best piece of advice you've ever had? "If you want something, go get it. Period."
93. Name three things you consider yourself to be very good at, and three things you consider yourself to be very bad at. "I'm good at chasing what I want, leading, and helping others. I'm not that great at cooking or holding my tongue."
94. If you could choose, how would you want to die? "I'd die in my sleep. No pain."
95. If you knew you were going to die in 24 hours, name three things you would do in the time you had left. "I'd probably rob a bank and spend all of the money on things for my family and friends."
96. What's one word that best describes you? "Determined."
97. What would you do if you could meet your creator? "I don't know. Tell them thanks, I guess."
98. What are your impressions about the other interviewees? "They're cool people, my best buds. I'd do anything for them. Well, almost anything."
99. Do you even want to be here? "Of course."
100. What do you spend most of your time doing? "Working." |
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