Post by Pax Stormcrow on May 25, 2018 4:37:53 GMT
Pax is standing near a table it a densely packed club. The music is a loud thumping noise, barely recognizable beyond the bass line. Colored lights flash and pulse in time to the music. Pax has a bottle of beer in front of him, picking at the label while looking miserable. Dressed in a simple pair of jeans and a red tank top, he still manages to look just slightly out of place. Suddenly, Nate Harris appears next to him. He wears a white a-frame undershirt and a pair of white shorts. Glow sticks of various colors hang from his clothes as he sways to the music. He leans over towards Pax, shouting to be heard.
“Hooker, get out there a dance. You about to put down roots.”
Pax takes a nervous drink from his beer, still picking at the label.
“I don’t really dance Nate, I told you that.”
“Bitch, almost none of these people can dance. Go out there and pop them hips around. I seen you do that. Just this time you aren’t throwing people into the ground. Would I lie?”
Pax considers for a moment.
“I mean, if you thought it would be good for me, ya you would.”
“In a second but what’s that got to do with now?”
Pax shifts uncomfortably at the table as Nate crosses his arms, tapping his foot impatiently.
“Well, I keep getting approached by guys and they are super aggressive when I try to dance.”
“Whoa. Don’t hate Pax. You cute as fuck and we in a gay bar so that’s bound to happen.”
“I mean sure. That makes sense. But like, I’m not gay.”
The two of them exchange a look.
“Wait, you aren’t?”
“No! What would give you the idea that I was?”
“I mean, you all but ran away from all the women at the last club.”
“Ya, and I ran away from all the dudes that approached me here.”
There is a long pause and Nate looks down at Pax with concern.
“Bro, do you just not like sex?”
“Well. I mean. Sure. It’s fine or whatever. I just don’t like getting approached like that. It’s just off putting.”
Pax’s cheeks flush, hard to tell under the colored lights and against his bronze skin. Nate stares at him for a moment before his eyes bug out.
“Yooo…. Are you still packing your V card?”
“What? What does that have to do with this conversation?”
“Oh man. Boo what are we goin do with you?”
“Let me go back to hide in my hotel room until Night of the Immortals?”
“Shit no hooker. You need any help with that? Cause we in Nevada after all…”
Pax flushes even brighter, somehow. He shakes his head emphatically.
“Alright, don’t worry. We are only stretching your comfort zone. You adorable Boo.”
“I should be training. So should you.”
“Pax, babe. This is training. When you win that Joker in the Pack and take the belt off one of those delusional white boys that I am gonna throw around? You are gonna need people skills. The people goin wanna see their champ. Trust.”
Pax sighs and empties his bottle of beer.
“Come on Booboo. I am gonna introduce you to the wonders of gay bartenders and they ya won’t care how many bears try to roll up on you while we shakin it.”
“I dunno, that doesn’t sound like a good time.”
“Shut up, you’ll love it.”
____________________
The camera opens on Pax, perched on top of a ladder. He grins down at the camera for a moment before looking upwards.
“Night of the Immortals. The biggest night in professional wrestling. This the night were legacies are built. Where legends are made. What happens on Monday will shape the IWF for the next year. Maybe forever.”
He looks back down at the camera with a wide grin.
“And I have earned my place in it. Not just a regular match. Not something to open things up and hype the crowd.”
He shakes his head.
“No, I am in Joker in the Pack. Whoever wins that has a title shot for any belt they want, whenever they want it. The winner has always made a name for themselves. That could be me.”
He looks up again for a moment before he stands. His arm reaches up into the air for a moment, before he takes a step off the ladder. He falls down, landing on his feet on the stone floor. He lowers his head to the camera with a wide grin.
“Nah. Not could be. It WILL be me. I am gonna scale that ladder and take my place in history. I deserve it. I work harder than any of my opponents. I want it more. Now let me tell you why.”
He crosses his arms in front of him, a look of disappointment on his face.
“So we all know who we gotta start with. Hey Thaddeus. What’s up?”
He smirks at the camera slightly.
“You and I have gone back and forth. We started in the company at the same time. We’ve had a few matches between the two of us. But you haven’t accomplished much. Your big claim to fame is taking the spot of the other Thaddeus. So like, are you from this past, or like an alternate timeline? What wacky sci-fi shenanigans is this? Either way, you are a walking 1950’s pulp paradox waiting to happen. You got bigger problems to deal with.”
He laughs with a shake of his head.
“Meanwhile? I’ve had to title shots since I’ve been here. Ya, I fell short. But it’s an opportunity you have never had. You are a joke Thaddeus. You aren’t going nowhere. Speaking of Jokes? Let’s deal with you Ulf.”
He shakes his head slowly.
“You come back from your break with a bunch of masked goons and you beat your way through the low carders. But the second someone higher on the card notices you? The moment you get brought up on the card? You quit.”
He shakes his head slowly
“So the bully work didn’t go for you. Now you are trying to be the good guy. The noble viking hero. Like we are all supposed to forget what a bully you were. That now you are throwing down with Dean and that’s supposed to make you a good guy.”
He scoffs and shakes his head.
“You like to think you run with wolves but you know nothing about them and I’ve read Germanic epics. The hero always meets tragedy. That’s what is on the line for you. On the subject of Tragedies, let's move on to Xavier Cross.”
He rolls his eyes with a sigh.
“Like, you are turning over a new leaf. Let’s forget what a dick you were. Now you come out here talking about how you are Prometheus. You are going to defy the gods and bring fire down to mankind. You talk some good shit. But let’s be real for a moment. You are focused on that goofy Nunehei. You got a match before hand. Say what you will about Redcap and his weirdness, he is no slouch in the ring. You are gonna be walking in tired, and hurting. I appreciate the steps you are taking. But the truth is everyone else is fresh in this match. But you aren’t. In this match man, that’s gonna be the end of you.”
He shrugs his shoulders. He takes a deep breath and shakes himself.
“So AJ. This is tough man. I respect you, but I gotta say some things to you. Ya, whenever the two of us get into the ring together, it seems like Spike or God have to stick their damn nose into things. It sucks that we haven’t had a clean finish to any of our matches. I’d like to see who would come out on top.”
He sighs and grins at the camera.
“But thing is, it’ll be me. I want the win more than you do. I want the belt more. I want the responsibility more. I mean look at you. Longest reigning IWF champion. You are set for the legends. But I don’t think you can take it anymore. Spike Kane broke you when he helped God get his win. Never mind the fact that neither of them alone could accomplish that task. But you haven’t been the same sense. You hold your head low. I see it, your spirit is broken man. That sucks. But it’s not going to change that I am winning this match. You got to fix your spirit on your own time Jacobson. Until you do that? You aren’t ready.”
He shakes his head with another sigh. He is silent for a long moment, looking over his hands.
“Harper, how’s it going? Been feeling real good since that cult put the White Devil in you huh? Got that chance to live out the dark impulses inside of you and you have reveled in it. I’m not like the rest of the people around here. I don’t think you are just a good kid that got wrapped up in a lot of poison. I don’t think an exorcism will cure you.”
He looks into the camera and taps his fingers to his temple.
“I am of your Mama’s people Dean. We don’t make excuses for the evil that exist in the hearts of men. It’s a constant struggle to make sure you don’t let that evil win. It’s an awful white washed story. I really dislike it, but in the case of you Dean, the metaphor is accurate. You picked which wolf to feed and you never looked back. You are rotten inside.”
He shrugs his shoulders.
“So, it’s up to good men to stop you. Not save you, nah. You made your choices. There is no saving you. I’m gonna beat you Harper. I’m gonna kick you back down the ladder and keep you there.”
He looks up the ladder and starts to slowly climb it.
“Thaddeus, you are a joke. Ulf, you are a flake. Xavier, you don’t deserve this. Andrew, you aren’t ready. Dean, you will be struck down.”
He takes a seat at the top of the ladder. This time, the camera has followed him up. It zooms into her face slowly until only his eyes are seen.
“Stromcrow will rise ascended on Night of the Immortals. It is my time. This is where I will build my legacy. This is where I go to war. To coin a phrase, Trust.”
He smirks as the camera zooms back. He pounds his fist against his chest and flashes two fingers.
“Peace Out boys. I’ll tell ya what the view looks like from the top.”
“Hooker, get out there a dance. You about to put down roots.”
Pax takes a nervous drink from his beer, still picking at the label.
“I don’t really dance Nate, I told you that.”
“Bitch, almost none of these people can dance. Go out there and pop them hips around. I seen you do that. Just this time you aren’t throwing people into the ground. Would I lie?”
Pax considers for a moment.
“I mean, if you thought it would be good for me, ya you would.”
“In a second but what’s that got to do with now?”
Pax shifts uncomfortably at the table as Nate crosses his arms, tapping his foot impatiently.
“Well, I keep getting approached by guys and they are super aggressive when I try to dance.”
“Whoa. Don’t hate Pax. You cute as fuck and we in a gay bar so that’s bound to happen.”
“I mean sure. That makes sense. But like, I’m not gay.”
The two of them exchange a look.
“Wait, you aren’t?”
“No! What would give you the idea that I was?”
“I mean, you all but ran away from all the women at the last club.”
“Ya, and I ran away from all the dudes that approached me here.”
There is a long pause and Nate looks down at Pax with concern.
“Bro, do you just not like sex?”
“Well. I mean. Sure. It’s fine or whatever. I just don’t like getting approached like that. It’s just off putting.”
Pax’s cheeks flush, hard to tell under the colored lights and against his bronze skin. Nate stares at him for a moment before his eyes bug out.
“Yooo…. Are you still packing your V card?”
“What? What does that have to do with this conversation?”
“Oh man. Boo what are we goin do with you?”
“Let me go back to hide in my hotel room until Night of the Immortals?”
“Shit no hooker. You need any help with that? Cause we in Nevada after all…”
Pax flushes even brighter, somehow. He shakes his head emphatically.
“Alright, don’t worry. We are only stretching your comfort zone. You adorable Boo.”
“I should be training. So should you.”
“Pax, babe. This is training. When you win that Joker in the Pack and take the belt off one of those delusional white boys that I am gonna throw around? You are gonna need people skills. The people goin wanna see their champ. Trust.”
Pax sighs and empties his bottle of beer.
“Come on Booboo. I am gonna introduce you to the wonders of gay bartenders and they ya won’t care how many bears try to roll up on you while we shakin it.”
“I dunno, that doesn’t sound like a good time.”
“Shut up, you’ll love it.”
____________________
The camera opens on Pax, perched on top of a ladder. He grins down at the camera for a moment before looking upwards.
“Night of the Immortals. The biggest night in professional wrestling. This the night were legacies are built. Where legends are made. What happens on Monday will shape the IWF for the next year. Maybe forever.”
He looks back down at the camera with a wide grin.
“And I have earned my place in it. Not just a regular match. Not something to open things up and hype the crowd.”
He shakes his head.
“No, I am in Joker in the Pack. Whoever wins that has a title shot for any belt they want, whenever they want it. The winner has always made a name for themselves. That could be me.”
He looks up again for a moment before he stands. His arm reaches up into the air for a moment, before he takes a step off the ladder. He falls down, landing on his feet on the stone floor. He lowers his head to the camera with a wide grin.
“Nah. Not could be. It WILL be me. I am gonna scale that ladder and take my place in history. I deserve it. I work harder than any of my opponents. I want it more. Now let me tell you why.”
He crosses his arms in front of him, a look of disappointment on his face.
“So we all know who we gotta start with. Hey Thaddeus. What’s up?”
He smirks at the camera slightly.
“You and I have gone back and forth. We started in the company at the same time. We’ve had a few matches between the two of us. But you haven’t accomplished much. Your big claim to fame is taking the spot of the other Thaddeus. So like, are you from this past, or like an alternate timeline? What wacky sci-fi shenanigans is this? Either way, you are a walking 1950’s pulp paradox waiting to happen. You got bigger problems to deal with.”
He laughs with a shake of his head.
“Meanwhile? I’ve had to title shots since I’ve been here. Ya, I fell short. But it’s an opportunity you have never had. You are a joke Thaddeus. You aren’t going nowhere. Speaking of Jokes? Let’s deal with you Ulf.”
He shakes his head slowly.
“You come back from your break with a bunch of masked goons and you beat your way through the low carders. But the second someone higher on the card notices you? The moment you get brought up on the card? You quit.”
He shakes his head slowly
“So the bully work didn’t go for you. Now you are trying to be the good guy. The noble viking hero. Like we are all supposed to forget what a bully you were. That now you are throwing down with Dean and that’s supposed to make you a good guy.”
He scoffs and shakes his head.
“You like to think you run with wolves but you know nothing about them and I’ve read Germanic epics. The hero always meets tragedy. That’s what is on the line for you. On the subject of Tragedies, let's move on to Xavier Cross.”
He rolls his eyes with a sigh.
“Like, you are turning over a new leaf. Let’s forget what a dick you were. Now you come out here talking about how you are Prometheus. You are going to defy the gods and bring fire down to mankind. You talk some good shit. But let’s be real for a moment. You are focused on that goofy Nunehei. You got a match before hand. Say what you will about Redcap and his weirdness, he is no slouch in the ring. You are gonna be walking in tired, and hurting. I appreciate the steps you are taking. But the truth is everyone else is fresh in this match. But you aren’t. In this match man, that’s gonna be the end of you.”
He shrugs his shoulders. He takes a deep breath and shakes himself.
“So AJ. This is tough man. I respect you, but I gotta say some things to you. Ya, whenever the two of us get into the ring together, it seems like Spike or God have to stick their damn nose into things. It sucks that we haven’t had a clean finish to any of our matches. I’d like to see who would come out on top.”
He sighs and grins at the camera.
“But thing is, it’ll be me. I want the win more than you do. I want the belt more. I want the responsibility more. I mean look at you. Longest reigning IWF champion. You are set for the legends. But I don’t think you can take it anymore. Spike Kane broke you when he helped God get his win. Never mind the fact that neither of them alone could accomplish that task. But you haven’t been the same sense. You hold your head low. I see it, your spirit is broken man. That sucks. But it’s not going to change that I am winning this match. You got to fix your spirit on your own time Jacobson. Until you do that? You aren’t ready.”
He shakes his head with another sigh. He is silent for a long moment, looking over his hands.
“Harper, how’s it going? Been feeling real good since that cult put the White Devil in you huh? Got that chance to live out the dark impulses inside of you and you have reveled in it. I’m not like the rest of the people around here. I don’t think you are just a good kid that got wrapped up in a lot of poison. I don’t think an exorcism will cure you.”
He looks into the camera and taps his fingers to his temple.
“I am of your Mama’s people Dean. We don’t make excuses for the evil that exist in the hearts of men. It’s a constant struggle to make sure you don’t let that evil win. It’s an awful white washed story. I really dislike it, but in the case of you Dean, the metaphor is accurate. You picked which wolf to feed and you never looked back. You are rotten inside.”
He shrugs his shoulders.
“So, it’s up to good men to stop you. Not save you, nah. You made your choices. There is no saving you. I’m gonna beat you Harper. I’m gonna kick you back down the ladder and keep you there.”
He looks up the ladder and starts to slowly climb it.
“Thaddeus, you are a joke. Ulf, you are a flake. Xavier, you don’t deserve this. Andrew, you aren’t ready. Dean, you will be struck down.”
He takes a seat at the top of the ladder. This time, the camera has followed him up. It zooms into her face slowly until only his eyes are seen.
“Stromcrow will rise ascended on Night of the Immortals. It is my time. This is where I will build my legacy. This is where I go to war. To coin a phrase, Trust.”
He smirks as the camera zooms back. He pounds his fist against his chest and flashes two fingers.
“Peace Out boys. I’ll tell ya what the view looks like from the top.”
Well howdy there pardner.