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Team 007 Will007 Johnny Blaine Kat Bob vs Team Dynasty Lance Canada w/ ??? Coren Kayfabe Codek |
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Team 007 vs Team Dynasty |
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Team 007 Will007 Johnny Blaine Kat Bob vs Team Dynasty Lance Canada w/ ??? Coren Kayfabe Codek |
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Re: Team 007 vs Team Dynasty |
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Codek sat in wonder. He had lost, and this one
stung, as it was really his time to shine. Not even an Aztecian god could
help him. |
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Re: Team 007 vs Team Dynasty |
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The airplane slowly takes off on
this chilly night, the engine vibrating the plane as it rolls up and off
the ground, ascending into the sky in short order. Amber watches out the window into the night sky, seeing the stars far above them...she thinks to herself of the consellations, spotting the Belt easily among others. Her head is bandaged around the entire area from the "clipping" Ben had given her...the doctor gave the good news that the hair would grow back (and it had already started to), and there would be no scarring. Will sits on her side, his hand in hers. His head too is ndage, but for different reasons. Earlier that night, the Dynastyhad eliminated him in brutal fashion from the Battle Royale, and it seemed to have a lasting effect on him. Amber: It's quite a beautiful night. She's trying to get his mind on different things that the Dynasty. 007: It certainly is....lovely. Yet all he wants is revenge. Yet he has to work with 3 others he's not even sure he can trust to do so. The plane continues to go off into the night, the animosity still going on in his head. Peachy. |
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Re: Team 007 vs Team Dynasty |
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Survivor |
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Re: Team 007 vs Team Dynasty |
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(??? revealed) |
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Bob meets a fan |
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Calgary..Alberta..Canada |
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Re: Bob meets a fan |
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Codek had gotten back to Chile, if only
for a while... Just long enough to see that his big match was coming up
for the ECF Transcon title. In the meantime, he had been notified of his next 411 show, Survivor Series. Codek hated the idea of being in a team, well- one that wasn't the Aces-- and didn't know what to think of his teammates. He certainly wouldn't trust them until they had proven what they were all about. Of course, he had also been told who his opponents were. Codek: Will? Sounds like a pushover to me..Johnny Blaine? Who the hell are these people? And then he saw it. Two names he knew quite well. Kat and Bob. Kat had handed Codek's first defeat in 411, a wound that still hurt. And Bob... Well, Bob and Codek had some unfinished buisiness from Memphis.. Of course, his opponents would be in Calgary, and his being in Chile didn't help at all. It was time to do some travel again... Aboard a C-5 luxury special, Codek flew to Calagary, leaving his ECF match behind him. It was time to take care of something that had been festering in his gut for a while. As Codek left the airport, he sees Bob-- big as ever, talking to some ring rat holding a bag. Undetected, Codek listens in and hears Tara tell Bob of her aspirations, and sees Bob hurriedly get in his car and begin to leave. That was his cue. Codek, dropiing his bags, quickly runs over to Tara and yells to get her attrntion. She turns, and Codek, with precision and grace, puts her in the "Terrible Tragedy," an STF with a reverse Dragon Sleeper. Tara tries to struggle out of it, but Codek is the veteran here, and knows how to really lock it in, until Tara, riddled with pain, passes out. Bob: TRACEY STOP! But Tracey simply tells Bob that they are late, and keeps driving. Bob saw him there, with that sadistic grin on his face, and for a moment, before Tracey drove them out of view, Bob was looking in the eyes of Codek once again... |
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Re: Bam meets a fan |
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"A doorway. Indistinguishable
from hundreds of others, utterly ordinary, judging sheerly on apperances.
But if you learn one thing in life, it's that outward appearances aren't
necessarily indicitave of anything. Such is the case now. If one were to twist the bare handle of the cold steel door..." One would find much, much more than a man and his title -- not to belittle, of course. But behind this particular door, things were being discussed. Inside the room, a small wooden table, surrounded by small, yet comfortable, chairs, a single, dull bulb the only lighting. It was a regular roundtable of ill repute: At the head of the table, James Brown, the Acid Jackrabbit, recently ejected commissioner of the 411fed, father of the current, Leroy Brown. To his immediate right, once the angry hero, now just angry, Lance Canada. Standing tall -- Six foot nine, if you can believe it -- immediately behind him, Jack (yes, it's just that simple). On Brown's left, an unnamed man, though one who certainly knows how to network. Across from the Jackrabbit was an assassin of the mind, Cerebral Assasin, CA, once commissioner and full owner of the 411fed, now holding 24% of the company. The other stock-holders, "Big" Mike Watters and Michael Joyeux, are noticeably absent, as their presence would surely hinder the scheming efforts of these four men tonight. But both Watters and Joyeux were being carefully watched. In fact, Mjoy, recently awakened from his coma, would be appearing on the upcoming 411fed payperview. Watters, however, would not be afforded such a treat. The decisions made tonight will change carreers, ruin lives, scar reputations, and reward only the most wicked of men; tonight, these men are charting the course of the future. In a few days time, they will lay down their hands, dealing a blow to those who would oppose them. Leroy'll never know what hit him. * * * The next morning, inside one of the Hilton Garden Inn's top luxury suites. A large, black sofa sits in the middle of the room, across from a 51 inch flat screen, multi-disc DVD player, surround sound, and a window overlooking half of Calgary. Paintings hang on all walls, the lighting is superb. It would be a gorgeous room, if not for the mass of fast food garbage laying about, and the large, nearly naked blonde man sprawled out on the sofa. Her funeral is today. A thousand kilometres away. They're likely lowering her body right now; dropping her into a hole, covering her with dirt. He wouldn't be there, In fact, he wouldn't be anywhere near there for a long, long time. The agents are leaving him alone now, a very smart move on their part. One day, he'll have to go back, he'll have to take care of things. He has plans for them, the bastards that put her in the ground. He imagines strangulations -- "No, let go!" Burble!" -- skin turning purple as he locks his hands tighter; breaking necks -- "Who's that behin--" Snap! -- bodies falling to the ground like dropped marionettes; stabbings, oh the stabbings -- "Oh please, fuck, no!" Slice! -- blood oozing out the fresh cuts, staining clothes. He imagines lifting them up high, perhaps even while atop a building, and throwing them down hard -- "Don't let go! NO!" -- limbs flailing as the bodies drop, drop, drop and -- Splat! -- become one with the pavement below. Standing high on scaffolding inside a factory, gears churning, pumps pumping, a few openings, just below, pushing their bodies, bloodied and beaten, off the edge, down into the machinery below, listening to their screams of fear then pain then... silence. The sweet silence of death, the death of his enemies. Those who had little to do with the whole ordeal, those not in the know will suffer the least, maybe only a bullet to the head, or a quick smothering, if there is such a thing. But those who knew, the ones that did this to him, to her, to the beaver, to their little boy, they, they will receive the worst of it all; slow, agonizing, painful, torturous deaths, while he stares right in their faces, explaining to them why this is all happening, how they took a happy couple, nearly a family, and ruined it all, destroyed the only thing he ever truly wanted. Deaths personalized for each one, right up to the top fucking man. They're all going to pay. If only they knew, when all is said and done, he's going to own the fucking world. And if only he knew that his son is still alive. "Get your drunk ass up, boy!" "Hey, B? Go fuck yourself." "Put some pants on. We're goin' drinking." * * * Some hours later, neither man overly drunk, walking away from the bar, down the dark, foggy Albertan street. "Pick one." "Hm. Gotta pick the biggest asshole, eh?" "Your call, bro." "Him." "Check. Now get the hell outta here." "Don't get shot, eh?" As LC takes off into the night, Bam heads over to a cocky-looking older fellow. "Hey, bitch: Say goodnight." Without warning, blood is flying, covering Bam's fist, the building beside him, both men's clothing, the sound of bone breaking bone echos into the empty streets. Deep inside the skull, his fist grabs hold of the brain, squeezing then releasing it, playing a little, all sorts of things running between his fingers. The few bystanders scream in terror, running, one furiously dialing 911 on his cell phone. Perfect. He continues playing with the brain, wearing the gentleman like a glove, swinging him slightly, waiting, savouring the moment. He can smell death, and he likes it. The police arrive, atypically quickly, possibly caused, in part, by their own morbid curiosity -- a tattooted monster punching through someone's skull?? Unbelievable, sure, but there it all is, standing before them in expensive Versaci and leather. As they arrest him, he seems almost happy -- the large grin on his face sort of gives it away -- but they shrug it off as insanity. At least he's going peacefully, they think, because I doubt we could take him down without losing a few. |
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Technical Difficulties . . . . |
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Downtown Calgary ..... Tracey and Bob enter the large office Building, Tracey had managed to get an radio interview with the cities premier sports station. The FAN 960 , for Bob , Survivor series was really starting to create a buzz in the city , and not one to miss an opportunity Tracey had made all the arrangements for an on air radio interview. ..... They enter the main foyer of the building, and after consulting with the concierge for a moment, head off to the elevator and ascend to the 5th floor. Never seing the large man in the immaculately cut grey suit who had been in the foyer, reading a newspaper , as the Elevator doors close on Bob and Tracey , the man folds his newspaper away neatly, calmly gets up, and slowly and casually walks with the gait of a man who had been to this place many times before, pressing the button for the elevator, a few short moments later he too began the ascent to the 5th floor. ..... The elevator opens , and Bob and Tracey exit . walking along the long corridor, to the radio stations front desk ,where a woman sits , taking some phone calls, shuffling some papers, and generally doing every thing she could to look busy. pictures of the stations DJ's with various local sports celebrities Decorate the walls, as well as the logo's of various sport teams. "Im Tracey Macintyre , and this Is my Client Bob , we have an appointment " Tracey states matter of factly "Hmmm one moment please, let me check my list... " The secretary checked her schedule " Ahh here it is, Interview with 411fed Wrestler Bob , I guessing that's you sir ?" she said looking up at the tall form of Bob "Yes ma'amm" Bob responded " But please, call me Bob " he said smiling, extending his hand "Ok.. Bob it is then , Im Diane" she said shaking his hand briefly " Diane , that a pretty name" Bob said amicably " Why thank you " Diane says. Blushing slightly at the compliment, and absentmindedly adjustign her hair , a small smile now on her face "I bet you say that to all the girls" "Just those with pretty names" Bob replies smiling " Can we go in now ?" Tracey says in a somewhat demanding tone , rolling her eyes in annoyance "Of course , See that tinted glass wall over there ?" Diane began that's the DJ'S bullpen , just to the right of that is the door " she said " Please wait for the light above the door to go off before entering , Ill let them know your here " Diane replied as she presses some buttons on her phone. "Was nice meeting you Diane" Bob says politely as he and Tracey made there way to the door. Diane smiles in return as Bob follows Tracey to the door she indicated, and eventually into the bullpen. "Nice to me you too Bob " Diane's replies smiling "Nice guy " Diane thinks to herself smiling " But man, she's a bitch" ..... Just then the Elevator Door opens at the end of the hallway , the soft muted tones of 'Im a little Spanish flea' escape the door briefly as a man, in a grey Immaculately cut suit steps out and makes his way down the hallway towards the Secretaries desk, a Dark aura about him, in stark contrast to the happy tune that was playing in the Elevator. "May I help you ?" Diane asks politely as he approaches "Please , I understand Bob had an appointment today ? if possible Id like to see him I have an important message to deliver "he replies "Im sorry , but he's in with the DJ's right now , but he should be out in a few minutes" " Can I listen in ?" the Man in the suit enquires " Sure I can pipe it in, if you like" she says turning on the radio "Please take a seat and make yourself comfortable" Diane says politely, pointing to one of the chairs in the office, Ill just call into the Bullpen and let them know your waiting, they can tell Bob once they reach a commercial Break" "You can do that without interrupting the show ?" he says as he slowly makes his away to her side of the desk, a curious look on his face as he inspects Diane's phone. "Oh sure, I just press this button here, and I can talk to them without it begin broadcast on the air , and If I want I can also call them and be heard on air " "How would you do that ?" he asks politely "I'd just press this button here... " she's cut's off as the man quickly lays the "Terrible Tragedy" on her , she quickly slips into unconsciousness and the man just pushes her unconscious body onto the floor, sits calmly in her seat and puts his feet up on the desk, making himself comfortable. "Thank you, you've been most helpful" He says winking at her limp form on the floor" I think Ill liste to a little radio.. " he says to himself as he turns the volume up . . . "Your listening to THE FAN AM 640 CALGARY'S NUMBER ONE SOURCE FOR SPORTS " the typical overdramatic voice of a Dj booms over the radio. "This is Stan the man talking to you with my co-host , James "the Mouth" Hightower , and Today we have a very special treat for you , we have one of the newest stars from the world of wrestling , the place of pile drivers, and the squared circle itself , One of 411FED'S newest stars, BOOOOOOOOBBBBBBBBB ! ! " ..... ***** Canned applause is heard Briefly- ***** "Ok Bob it truly is a pleasure to speak to you today , and we'll be taking calls , from you the fans, here at THE FAN, SPORTS Radio, any moment now but first I'd like to ask you a few questions " " Taking calls eh ? ", The Man in the grey says to himself,with a humourless smile he picks up the pone and makes a call. "Please do , Im really happy to be here " Bob says cheerfully "Ok there is one questions that's on the lips of wrestling fans around the world , recently the 411fed held one of their biggest events on the year, Season's Beatings , strangely though you and your partner weren't in attendance , we want to know why Bob , why you and you Partner , the Lovely and Beautiful KAT, werent there? " "Oh well as you probably know , Kat was really hurt Bad at our last match... " "Booooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo" Bob is cut off briefly as the Dj plays a recording of an audience booing , Bob pauses momentarily .. "Please go on " Stan encourages "Well , she wanted some time off , and my parents had just bought a new small house with the money I sent them ,I wanted to spend some time with my Family,so I invited her and her Friend Hiro to join us for the holidays" Bob replies smiling " That's certainly nice thing to do.. but didnt you miss the excitement , the crowds ? the sound of an opponent hitting the canvas hard ? " Stan asks " Well sure , but Family is important to me , and It was Christmas an all , and if you've ever had my mom's Christmas Turkey, with two kinds of stuffing, mashed potatoes, corn, and the best gravy in the world.. oh and Kat made this amazing Japanese christmas cake , with strawberries , trust me its not something you would want to miss " " Sounds Delish , but I have a question for you Bob , a rumour I heard from our sister station in Idaho " James "The Mouth" Hightower pipes in "Ive heard stories that a wrestler living in Idaho , was viciously attacked by wolves ,do you know anything of this " James asks "Wolves ? well we did have some problem with some coyotes , they tried to get into my parents chicken coop a few times , but they ran into fluffy and we havent seen them since" "FLUFFY ?" Both Stan and James ask simultaneously "Yeah, she's my parents cat , she swatted em a few times on their noses with her claws and they ran away yelping, havent seen or heard from em since" " Im sure the fans will want to know then Bob " Stans begins in an Overdramtic tone ".. is Fluffy.. ok ?" "Oh sure she's fine ,just a few scratches , coyotes arent so bad , worst part about them is all the howling, and barking they do, all night , no matter what you do you can't get them to be quiet, they just keep howling, barking , growling all night long , they just go on and on and on .. " "Speaking of not being quiet, I have a question about your last opponents, Lance Canada and Coren , have you heard their comments about you and Kat ?" Stan asks "Im afraid not Stan, again I was with Family over the holidays.." Bob replies "Ok it just so happens we have a clip here now of some of Coren's comments , lets have a listen " " I mean, first there's the not-so-dynamic duo of Bob and Kat. Neither had the courage to join the Battle Royal at Season's Beatings. " The recording of Corens voice "How do you respond to that Bob ? he called both you and Kat cowards ?" Stan asks " Well its not a very nice thing to say, I guess maybe he's mad I didnt invite him over for Christmas ?" Bob respond "It could be Bob , It Could be, if anyone is a grinch, it has to be Coren" Stan replies "Well its time to take some calls from the fans now " James interjects "That's right , we have our First caller now , YOUR ON THE AIR WITH THE FAN AM 640 CALGARY'S NUMBER ONE SOURCE FOR SPORTS ! ! " Stan announces dramatically "Hello Long time listener First Time Caller " a familiar sounding voice answers somewhat flatly "Always good to here from new Fans , do you have a question for Bob ? " Stan Asks "Indeed I do , Stan , Indeed I do , Bob do you remember me ?" " Im not sure ...." Bob begins "OK do you remember then that young girl you met ? at the airport ?" "Who is this... ?" " What was her name again.. oh yeah Tara , Tara nife, she was a very pretty girl " the callers voice continued on, a rather unsettling tone in his voice as he emphasises the word 'was' "Hey who is this. what do you want ?" Stan asks "What do I want ?" The voice replies , chuckling softly "Lets just say I called to reach out and Touch someone" the voice says evily. The sound of shattering Glass is suddenly heard as an office chair is thrown violently through the large glass window, bouncing of the dj's desk and onto the far wall, causing everyone to scatter " We're under attack " Stans voice yells over the air "Please anyone out there listening call the police..." the sound of falling debris cuts him off "CODEK ? What are you doing here ?" Bob's voice suddenly calls out Tracey's screaming is heard momentarily , the sounds of two men, tearing apart the booth can be heard , occasionally interrupting by the Dj's frantic cries of help on air. The sound of something very large and heavey falling over can be heard Following by the sound of more shattering glass The sickening sounds of fists hitting flesh , bodies being thrown against walls.. "OH MY GOD ! ! " STANS VOICE IS SUDDENLY HEARD " DON'T DROP THAT, YOU'LL KILL HIM ! ! ! DON'T DO IT ! STOP ..... " Stan's voice is cut off as the only sound being broadcast is static . . |
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Radio BKAT |
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The Dj's deck landed only inches from
it's intended victims throat, precisely where the well placed kick meant
it to go. The deck crashed into a nearby wall , harming no one , save
Codek. Kat had been listening to her Walkman while at a cafe nearby and had reached the radio station just in time to repay her debt to Bob , and to Codek , who is only now again reaching his feet. Codek charges like a mad bull , Kat avoids the "horns" but just barely. Everyone scrambles for the exit , Bob and Kat bringing up the rear. Neighter spoke. Neighter needed too. They had become too close friends. Too close partners for all that. And now they're partnership would undergo yet another challenge... |
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With who? |
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The Alberta night sky is cool and somewhat
misty, a very nice feel to it after being in some warmish temperatures.
Already leaving the hotel after checking in and dropping off their
supplies, Will and Amber walk along the nearly empty sidewalks hand in
hand on their way to the arena. Will is in a seemingly better mood, a
smile across his face. Amber notices this, turning her head with a
little smirk as well to his. |
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Re: With who? |
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Codek was still in the room where The DJ's and Bob
once were. He had so wanted to kill Bob, the anger overwhelming at times.
Codek was enraged by Bob-- Who was he to have a friendship with a
homosexual? Who did he think he was? That masquerade would surely be
exposed. |
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Rest in Peace |
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.....
The hallways were busy with the all the pre show preparations,
everything from workman rushing back and forth carrying equipment and
tools, to wrestlers who carried chips on their shoulders. ..... Like the inner workings of ant colony, people going to and fro, from one point to another, something all working to one eventual end, the 411fed Survivor Series. ..... There was something else moving throughout the hallways, from person to person, there were rumours floating about, even amongst wrestlers who wouldn't give the time of day to another, the stories spread. ..... One of their own had fallen. ..... But there was one last refuge, one last stronghold for which this news had yet to infiltrate, a Door, with the simple words Team 007 written in Broad letters across it. ..... Inside the Door were 3 wrestlers, Kat and Her partner Bob, and their Team captain Will, discussing their upcoming match and the strategies they would have to employ. "Bob I hope you understand what this match means " Will begins "Lance, Coren, that whole Dynasty ... it has to end, after what they did, I just don't want to win, I want to BEAT them" wills says clenching his fist, Amber looks on putting her hand on his shoulder concerned ,trying to ease his anger. "But is not just about them , we also have to look out for Kayfabe and Codek " Will continues "Well I dont know about Kayfabe, But Ive wrestled Codek before , and , well he's strong . . . and he's crazy like a fox" Bob replies "He's smart is he ?" Will asks "I guess so... can't really say , but I think he's a little crazy" "Like a Fox ?" Will asks , raising his eyebrow dubiously "Yeah , back on our farm we had this little fox who would . . " Bob begins "Bob , another time ok ?, I get it, Codek has a screw loose , lets move on ok ?" "He does ? why doesnt he get a screwdriver then and... " " Bob, lets please discuss what we are going to do in the match ok ?" Will says interupting Bob ,trying to get the conversation back on track , Amber politely covering her mouth trying not to laugh. " We can't trust the Dynasty with anything , we have to watch them every step of the way , they are not going to fight fair , you do remember what they did to Kat ?" " I remember, I won't let it happen again" Bob says , his voice suddenly very serious " Will san , please do not be overly concerned with the Dynasty, we are a team " Kat who had been quiet suddenly says, Will almost jumps in his seat , she had been so quiet he had forgotten she was there " They are like every dynasty that came before them " Kat begins "How so ?' Will asks " They all fall " Kat replies simply |
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Re: Rest in Peace |
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Later. |
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Re: Rest in Peace |
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"... and the deaths
of two wrestlers, the murder allegedly committed by a wrestler, all
three belonging to the 411 Wrestling Federation, as well as rumours of a
buy-out, have prompted the company to announce a press conference before
this Sunday's payperview event, Survivor Series. Back to you,
Susan." The Jackrabbit smiled, his cheecks pushed apart as his mouth grew and grew, his teeth sneaking out, almost looking like fangs. Flicking the television off, he puts his feet up on the desk, looking around Leroy's office. The boy was holed up somewhere -- smart move. Soon, the old man would be back on top, running the show, running the lives of all those around him. Even now, as events were still being set in motion, he could once again feel the power surging through his body. He may not have be the original boss, but he'll be damned (as if he wasn't already) if he didn't deserve it all. Some say he ruled with an iron fist, but who had brought in more money, filled more seats, given out larger pay cheques, put on better shows? No one, that's who! And by God (God?? You really think so??) he'll show all of them that he's right. He wonders if the boy knows what's coming. Part of him hopes so, just to know this is the reason Leroy's hiding, while part of him would rather take the kid completely by surprise... It all depends which will hurt more. Because the kid's going to feel some pain. * * * The snowfall had kept up, thicker and thicker as the day went on, covering the field... and anyone unfortunate enough to be stuck in it. Myow? "Poor little kitten, what's the matt--Oh no!" The others rush over, while one cat brushes snow off the other. Some of the vomit had been washed off by the snow, but most was still frozen to its fur by the same. As was a hand. All six, their genders split equally, furiously brushing the snow off the fallen boy's body. "W-Will san, is he...?" "He's alive, but that's about it." "We'd better get him to a hospital, and fast." Tracey knew he was right, but her frown was almost involunary -- Did he always have to try to be the hero? "Actually, kids, I think we can take it from here." Two blondes and a redhead, all standing over six feet tall, all with smirks on their faces, cocky and menacing. They push past the rest, lifting up the young Kayfabe. Will shakes a little inside, then lets loose; a punch flying towards the back of Lance's head. But his arm is locked into another, stopping the blow abruptly. "I don't think so, bitch." Almost as quickly as Bam appeared, Bob is in his face, not attacking, but ready to fight if he must. Tracey's eyes again enjoy the view of her upper eyelids. "Chill, big guy. If I was lookin' for a fight, I woulda let your boy here land his punch." "He's right. We're just here to take our belongings, eh?" "He's not a belonging, he's a damn person." The Canuck's handgun is out of the holster in a flash, waving around, but not pointing at any of the men or women. Will flinches as Amber digs her nails into his arm, holding him tightly. Tracey's silent prayer may be the only thing holding back Bob. "Relax, eh? I wouldn't dare kill any of you..." Even with the gun away, the tension is strong. Kayfabe's feet drag, leaving a trail through the snow. "We've had enough death lately, eh? Besides, it'll be much more fun to ruin your lives." Hiro steps forward, his foot sinking into the snow, but a small shake of Kat's head prevents him from going any further. They all knew that any fighting here would leave them playing by the Dynasty's rules. At least in the ring, they would have some degree of control. * * * Coren's reflection stares back at him through the bathroom mirror. Leaning down, cool water spashes across his face, running down his cheeks, his neck, into his shirt. Looking back up into the mirror... "Don't think that I can't see you." * * * The inside of the Dynasty's locker room looked to be something out of an old sci-fi movie set: computer equiptment all over, pipes leading from a few machines up along the wall, hanging from the ceiling, all bolted in place. As the boys set things up, Lance stares at a moniter, footage from an old episode of Friction. Will and Amber, together, looking so happy. The jealousy caused bile to bubble up inside him, almost overcoming the rage. Almost. Will has a lot to learn still; Lance thinks himself a more than suiting teacher. If he had to suffer, so did Will. The couple's happiness was no longer acceptable. He would show Will what it means to lose the one you love... "Bro, we're all set. I'm out. Can't let the guards know I've been out past curfew!" "I hate when he disappears like that. Makes me feel uneasy." "I think we have more important things to worry about, eh, Coren?" "Yeah, but this part's fun." The screams coming from Jack are muffled by the pipe hooked up to his face, but his kicks send pieces of wall tile crumbling to the floor. "Hit it." A few switches up, dials turned, gears moving, electricity humming. Jack calming, his body convulsing slightly, but enjoying the rush. Kayfabe watches it all through eyes he can barely keep open. But there is medicine for that... at least when dealing with these doctors. More screams from Jack, blood flying across the room, staining the carpet. Pump up the dosage and he's calm again. Then going farther, making him scream again. Up the dosage. Under the facemask, he cracks a smile, his eyes rolling back, a euphoric look coming over his face. It's not meant to last. More screams. More blood. More drugs. None of these torturers even seem to care -- because they don't. In fact, they enjoy it. The pain that these men are putting Jack through, the things Kayfabe is forced to witness, make him stop believing in God.  |
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The Mounties ALWAYS get there man |
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No one saw the smile on Tracey's face , its not
something that happens often enough to be noticed. Worse yet was the glint
of amusement that flashed in her eyes , a rival executive many years ago
saw that look in her eye's when he tried to climb up the corporate Ladder
over her. |
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Re: The Mounties ALWAYS get there man |
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More than a simple possession charge
was right. He'd been reassigned immediately following a 5 hour interogation. The suits who interrogated him hadn't asked a single question. And so to fill the silence he told them everything. More than he'd ever told anyone. His life, his fears, his hopes, his sins... And all they did was write every word down. He shook the memory away. Alchohol had helped. And now he was coming back home. The first sign that everything had gone to hell was the silence. Sam Steele couldn't stand silence. Not since his wife had taken away his life and replaced it with a few kodak memories. After the divorce he left the TV on all day and came home at night to the sound of laughter. The second sign that everything had gone to hell was the darkness. Normally he left all his house lights on. The lights were all still lit. But only his lights. Even the streetlamps had gone dark. A trickle of fear tickled down his back, playing a wicked symphony. "Ever see X-files?" The voice of reason sneered in the back of his head."Shot not to far from here, wasn't it? Same basic set-up here. You've got a freak occurance, and if you go investigate alone, you'll be the special effect everyone remembers." He had no intention of becoming a viewer hook. No-siree, the idea of living much more appealed to him than cashing in his chips for his 15 minutes of fame. Especially since the COPs guys wouldn't be coming until tomorrow. The cell had net capabilities. Silently, he sent off a message to his daughter's Hotmail, fumbling over the tiny keys as he tried to undo 9 years of nothing in a single night. ***** A bedroom. A woman. An intruder. Sammi Steele was still fighting the webcam, when the first message came. The picture contrast was too intense, making every shadow pitch black, and every light blinding bright. For a moment she saw herself as an angel- Then AOL booted her offline, and the glitch sent the camera picture back to the default settings of safe and softcore. "Goddamn f-" She stopped herself, wondering if her Mom could hear her in her sleep. 'Fucking slut cam' She finished silently, using her older stepsister's name for it. Her tu-tu was getting wrinkled, and her hair was in her eyes. "I must look like a little kid." She thought angrily. "Screw it." She stopped. She'd said that out loud. Her mother's hand clenched into a fist. She couldn't breath. "Please don't hit me, Jon." The older woman whispered. Jon was her stepfather's name. Just a dream. Still, she was wasting time. A tiny red light let her know the camera was shooting. "Hi, daddy, it's your little churchmouse. Squeak. squeak. Guess what?" "What?" Said a bored Gomer Pyle voice from the memories she kept closest inside. Dad always tried really hard to seem too cool for everything, just to see if it really meant anything to anyone else. She could understand that now. Mom did the same thing. That's why it was so frustrating that they wouldn't even talk to each other. They had everything in common... She lowered her voice."I get to be the Nutcracker." Her Mom had been properly horrified of course. "Sean wouldn't sign-up, he was scared all the boys would think he was ...well, liking it when they pat each other after the game, so it's just us girls, and...well, Mig, but you know how he is, he wants to be the rat." Offhandedly, she clicked back on-line as she talked to see if her song was still there... "Welcome! You've got mail!" She almost missed it. Sharpshooter2013. The name she most wanted to see right then... In reply to: It ended there. Like waking from a dream. Only being awake was the dream, because everything was suddenly too vivid. It couldn't be that she was waking up mom at night. It couldn't be that her mom was crying when she hadn't even told her yet. It couldn't be that they hugged each other close. It couldn't be that her mom looked at her and said. "I was dreaming about your dad." Because that only happened in books, and the soap operas. "I was dreaming about Jon." And she was right not to believe, because once again Mom didn't understand. Her tiny fists clenched tight... "Daddy's dead." She said...somehow she knew.... ***** Bob sat by the fireplace, roasting a marshmallow. It was almost golden, just right for a smore's. And then it was black. Just like that. One spark was all it took. Hiro sat down beside him. Bob shivered, though it wasn't from the cold. "Don't worry about it." Hiro said, his cold blue eyes watched the play of light and shadow. "Everyone's nervous around me at first." "Oh, no, I'm not scared!" Bob protested. The big man sat up too fast and hit the ceiling. "Ow." To his surprise, Hiro smiled...but the smile was gone so fast it might have just been a shadow. "Sorry." Hiro said. "I shouldn't laugh." "Why shouldn't you?" Bob said. It seemed to make no sense. Hiro laughed when Kat was around all the time, and he wasn't nearly as scary then. Hiro shook his head. "Don't ask." Bob took a deep breath. Set his jaw. Sometimes a man had to be sensitive. "Hiro, I'm asking." He said, laying a slab of meat larger than the man's head over his shoulder. Bob had his poker face on. Whatever Hiro said... he wouldn't laugh. Hiro took one look into the giant's stone cold stare, weighed his options in a rush and came clean. "I just thought to myself that when you hit your head...that it explained so much." Bob leaned in close, showing good listening skills. Hiro's eyes went wide."Ah! It was just a joke, Bob-san! You're not stupid, really, you just set your own pace when it comes to-" Suddenly Bob got the joke. "Hitting my head!" He slapped a meaty paw over his meaty face. "I am stupid!" "No, Bob-san!" This was a nightmare, somehow he'd not only insulted the man, but he'd crushed his ego completely. Besides the morality of it, Kat's survival was depending on their working as a team together. "Really, you're not...-um...Bob san, why are you laughing?" He'd hear gaijins sometimes liked to be insulted, but- "Good one!" Chuckled Bob as he slammed a mighty hand into the smaller man's back, and left a welt behind. "What's all the noise?" Said a groggy voice. Amber. She squinted at the clock like a naked mole rat."Is Will back yet?" She asked. "Will-san and Kat went to the prison to see if they could get any more information about that boy we saw earlier, we haven't heard anything since." "We should probably put the TV on just in case. It seems like all the news worth reporting is about the fed these days." "Advertising." Hiro handed her a cup of hot chocolate. "Yeah, probably. One thing I have to give the bastards, Acid always knew how to get people talking about us." Suddenly there was the sound of ceramic breaking."Turn up the volume." She said. Her voice was unnaturally calm. Bob shivered. That voice. He'd heard a voice like that only once before.. Will was on the screen, a portrait of light and shadow washed out and pale. Amber's finers touched his lips, but he never raised his head. He looked as though he were a man marching to his funeral. A brief flash of print below the scene. Allegations of abuse, and child endangerment. "No..." She whispered. It couldn't be real... ***** Kayfabe grinned at his tormentors through a mouthful of thick cold blood. He choked it all down, and it came back up, hot and scalding. "Bring it." He said. The glass needle was long and burning from the fire. Bubbles boiled up through the clear liquid inside... "I don't think you can go through with it." He met their eyes. Didn't blink. "I don't believe the hype." The twins laughed to hear their little toy speak. How delightful their first experiment would be. They couldn't wait to watch. "Oh, but you will." They reassured him. "And once it starts, there's no escaping it." ***** Blaine looked at the offer in his hands one last time. In reply to: |
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Re: The Mounties ALWAYS get there man |
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Destiny. Or fate. Whichever you prefer. Regardless, it's the antithisesis of free will. It's the cop-out to every crime, the excuse to every action. It's responsiblity removed. And don't get me started on luck. It goes hand in hand with fate, another tool to disregard the consequences of your behavior. If beaten in a sporting event, your opponent got lucky..you didn't make a mistake, improperly train, or have the lesser amount of skill. This is merely scratching the surface of the lengths people will go to, just to avoid admiting fault. Once I was among their ranks. The perennial loser. The one who couldn't get the job done. Why? I wasn't good enough. I made the stupid mistakes. I got lazy. No more. Bleeder sees to that. And before someone tries to point out the hypocrisy in this, don't. The blood on my hands, the crimes on my soul..these are things I alone must atone for. *The photo within the wallet matches that of the man displaying it. One would assume the identification also matches, making the man Sam Steele, a member of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. The man who scrutinized it ever so carefully nodded briefly to himself, then stepped back a pace. His lean frame looked lose, relaxed. A decieving semblance, and a dangerous one if you were marked as an enemy. At a moment's notice, he could be in action. A sweep kick to the back of the knees of the closest representative of the law, Steele. He'd fall much like a tipped cow, no control for his descent. The sound his head made against the cold concrete would be one to savor at another time. Instead, the next move would be to firmly plant the left foot that had just disconnected Steele and the ground below him. Following the momentum of the kick, he could be directly behind the higher ranking man, Walsh, in just under a second. A quick force executed by both hands would achieve a sound much like that of dried twigs crunching in the forrest. And the Sergeant would be just as dead. Coren shook his head. These violent fanatasies were becoming to commonplace. Too distracting. He'd have to have words about them with his associate later. But for now..* Coren: So, uh..officers. What seems to be the problem? Steele: Nothing to be alarmed about, just a concealed weapon.. Coren: Of course that's nothing to be alarmed about. Are you aware of just how common those things are around here? Walsh: Really? How many people carry guns, would you say? *Guns. Oh hell..Team 007 called the goon squad in. Think fast..think fast..* Coren: G..guns? I was..I was just joking. Yknow, steel pipe, brass knuckles..the whole "wrestling" thing. Steele: I see. Well in that case..could you direct us to where Lance Canada's lockerroom is? Coren: Um..I'm not sure. But I'll bet you that Leroy Brown would Walsh: Where would we find this Mr Brown? Coren: HIs office is down the hall, hang a left. Can't miss it. Steele: Thanks..and should you see anything..suspicious. Coren: I know, I know, I've seen Law and Order. *As the two depart, Coren sighs in relief. The nearest bathroom makes a convenient spot for him to warn Canada. The cellphone's speeddial went to work. Coren's impatience showed as one ring doubled, then became a third* Coren: Come on you dumb Canuck..pick up alread..VOICEMAIL. ARGH. LC. You better get this. Cops are headed your way now. They know about the gun. Just watch out..and for fuckssake get Bam GONE. *He closes the cellphone and hopes that his warning was in time* Flashback ???: Nice speech. The question is, can you back it up? Coren: Now Jack..what have we said about questioning us? *Coren turned from his contemplation of the specks on the wall to look at the man who'd just approached. Eye contact was difficult to achieve, even if Jack's eyes weren't turned down towards his feet. It was a little unnerving to see such a dominating presence so humbled. Coren blinked, then turned away once more.* Coren: Forget about it. Let's walk. *Jack's face, could you see it, lit up like a nightlight in an empty hallway at night. His long strides were more than a match for Coren's, one for every two of the Bleeder Champion's. And yet, he managed to keep pace without looking comical, always one step behind Coren.* Coren: Now, to business. You've scouted the area, correct? Jack: Yeah..utility closet 10 feet down in one direction, an empty lockerroom next door with connected ceiling pannels. Coren: And team 007? Jack: Will and Amber are yet to arrive at the arena, Kat and Bob's flight just arrived. Coren: And Blaine? Jack: Eating in the cafeteria. Alone. Coren: Excellent. Here's the plan... Flashforward *The cellphone chattered at him, informing him of the incoming call. LC was the name on the display pannel, one of the few, numbering exactly seven precise, who could reach him directly.* Coren: You ditch em? LC: Ditched. And payback's going to be a bitch. Coren: Don't I know it. Any clue on the wherabouts of Bob and the rest? LC: Currently, no. Give me an hour and the answer will change. Coren: Done and done. I'll hit you back then. *A flip closes the marvel of modern technology, slim enough to fit back into his pocket without a discernable bulge. Typically, the moment he starts to move down the hall again, the phone attempts to gain his attention again. A sigh escapes his lips. It's the business line yet again. Who knew this would be so time consuming? The phone is at his mouth in moments, the ID unchecked* Coren: What now, slut? Female voice: WHAT?! Coren: Oh hell..sorry..I thought this was someone else..um.. Female voice: Like you ever don't check the caller ID, especially on this line. Who, exactly, are you calling a slut anyway? Coren: Um..it's not what it sounds like..oh hell..can I call you back Brandy? I have some stuff to do.. Flashback *The ceiling pannel fell down, almost out of nowhere. Not nowhere, in the sense that it didn't exist before that moment. Clearly it did, it was part of the ceiling. But nowhere in the sense that it showed no indications that it was prepared to commit a double homicide, it's fall ending two lives. The tile would never again adorn a ceiling, providing a roof over the heads. And Codek, poor Codek. He'd never step into the ring again. Step anywhere, for that matter. Who could forsee that the tile falling down? Such a random circumstance, unpreventable at first glance. Second, third, and fourth glances would provide no further indications. Coren knew pity should fill him. Or sadness. Or some emotion. Sure, he didn't know this guy, this Codek. But nonetheless, he was a part of Team Dynasty. A person. And in his heart..nothing. Coren simply didn't care. The fact that this appaled him was enough, for now. It showed he still retained some semblance of his humanity. Was it Coren's fault? Could one place the blame at his feet, the bringer of misfortune? There was Sane. And Snatcher, and the whole mess that ensued. Mr Beaver didn't survive long after their first contact either. Neither had Codek. A curse then. If you put stock in such nonsense, which Coren didn't. Magic, superstition, karma..mumbo jumbo, the whole 9 yards. Assuming you ignored the ghosts of Blassie and Stasiak, Bam's teleportation, and of course the most damning (pun intended) of them all: Bleeder.* "Think he'll stay dead?" *Someone had to say it. It was on both of their minds, as they lurked in Team 007's lockerroom, waiting for the moment their target arrived.* Meanwhile *Jack waited. The closet was cramped, but that was ok. It was nothing less than he deserved. And he deserved it all. He'd been so bad...* Elsewhere *Blaine finished his lunch in silence. Another poor imitation of kidney pie. Bloody Americans, and their inability to cook. The kidney pie was barely passable, and yet the best they could manage. And their spotted dick..well. It wasn't even worth mentioning. And it wasn't as if he could ask around for help. The few British in the company avoided him like the plague. The Acid Jackrabbit, the man who brough him in, was now the mentor to his rival, Coren. Johnny Morgan was a constant thorn in his side, and mentored another brash youth. No, there was no one he could relate too. Except maybe.. His hand reached into his pocket, reassurance that the invitation was still there. The Cerebral Assassin himself. A man known for his ability to make things happen. And a personal invitation from him could lead to great things. And who knows what else. Maybe the Cerebral Assassin would know where to find some good spotted dick. Blaine, distracted by these thoughts, didn't notice the sign to his team's lockerroom upon the floor. Nor did he notice the broom closet opening behind him. And as we established already, he won't hear the shovel impact upon his skull, as he'll already have lapsed into unconsciousness. But the bruises he's about to recieve? Rest assured he'll feel those come Survivor Series..if he's intact.* |
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The Lion, The Witch and the Broom closet |
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Tracey put down the phone , her expression very much like
a cat curled up in her basket, counting mice , content, amused and with
just a hint of malevolence. She practically purred as she sat down,
making herself comfortable, as the Others continued to talk amongst
themselves. "Who'd ya Call Tracey ?" Bob asked, noticing she was no longer on the phone "Hmmm ? Oh nobody important , just some personal business I had to take care off " Tracey replied casually, Taking out a file to trim her nails. The seeds had been sown , they would have to be watered now and then, and some would take several months to mature. But they were planted, it was only a matter of time now. "Ahh ok Tracey" Bob says turning back to his conversation with the other wrestlers " So when do we get to meet Blaine ? " Bob asks turning to will "Beats me, he's probably wandering around the arena, looking for some kidney pies or kippers or some other british food " Will replies shrugging his shoulders "Kippers ? what are kippers ?" Bob asks " Beats me, and frankly I don't want to know" Will replies " Well shouldnt we try and find him then ?" Bob asks "He's a big Boy, im sure he will be here soon enough " Will replies ,as he does a dull thump can be heard just outside of the locker room door. "What was that ?" Will asks "Sounded like some sort of thump to me" Bob repliesas he gets up to open the locker room door to look. ..... As he does hetakes a step into the hallway, tripping over the prone form of someone lying unconcsious on the floor, luckily though he manages to reach forward to maintain his balance, slamming the open broom closet door shut as he slams into it as he struggles to maintain his balance, the sound of his own body hitting the door muffling the sound of something within the broom closet falling over, as well as the sound of the broom door lock clicking shut. Now regaining his Balance Bob looks Down, and see a man lying unconscious on the floor. "Bob-san are you alright ?" Kat asks appearing at the door , Kat stops dead in her tracks as she sees the unconscious man laying on the floor. "Yeah Im fine Kat, help me get this guy in would ya" Bob replies as they both drag him in, closing the door behind them. "Blaine ? where did you find him ?" Will surprised as they bring him into the locker room, Amber immediately runs to get a damp towel. "Outside , he was just lying there" Bob replies "Well at least we're all together now" Will replies, as Amber's ministrations bring Blaine back to consciousness "Bloody awful kidney pie " Blaine mutters to himself as he recovers "You probably should have had kippers instead " Bob answers, Blaine only reply is a confused look. Meanwhile, back in the hallway, the handle to the broom closet door is being rattled loudly, followed by the steady stream of obscenties from within. |
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