Post by Corey Black on Mar 15, 2020 13:01:40 GMT -5
Backstage at XIII in Chicago, Illinois at the House of Blues. Corey Black and FPV are sitting there after their main event win, clearly beat up and demoralized after what happened. Corey peels himself off the couch in the Man Made Gods locker room, walking over to the fridge and grabbing a Diet Coke. He places it on his cheek to give the swelling a bit of a relief before cracking the bottle open and taking a long drink. He looks over to Frank.
"So we're doing this again this weekend, this time against a couple of fresh guys? God man, I'm getting too old for this shit. We're in the middle of a worldwide pandemic and I'm out here in tag title tournaments, Battlebowls, XIII shows."
Frank laughs and stretches his arms a bit. "You'll be alright man, we got this. It's Masuda Teijin and Aaron Blaze."
"THAT Teijin?!" Corey asks, nearly spitting out a bunch of Diet Coke.
"Yeah, that one," Frank responds with a grin.
"The nephew of Jubei, the man Jay Price basically fucking killed at XIII last year?" Corey is pacing now.
Frank puts his hand up, "Yes, but look. This is precisely what you wanted, isn't it? You and I sent RJ Collins to Japan to learn the mystic ways, and now here it is in your front yard. Jubei's spirit is held within the mask Masuda carries and wears, there's something to this."
"Something sinister, like a spirit trying to inhabit a body. Yeah I'm familiar. His family lineage is the stuff of legend in Japan. When I'd go over there I'd always hear the rumblings of the Masuda, their ferocity and determination were apparently second to none. It was said that I would have matches well with any of them!" Corey heads over and sits next to Frank, waiting for a story like a little kid at school.
Frank obliges, he turns and faces Corey. "Now, this is where it gets really interesting. Jubei was like the catalyst here. His death sent this entire Masuda story into a tailspin. If you're to believe he inhabits the skull mask - then you believe it gives Teijin direction. It gives him a purpose in life. Kind of like the Genie's lamp and Jafar from Aladdin, or the Heart of the Ocean in Titanic."
Corey rubs his chin and strokes his beard. "Well, we have to destroy it, right?"
Frank nearly leaps out of his skin. "GOD NO what if Jubei is released onto the world again?! You basically had a hand in his death, you're probably just as cursed! No, the plan of action here is attack and win. I know Teijin like he's my own flesh, you know the Japanese style and traditions. I think if we can heal up enough to get into the ring, then our chances go through the roof. Teijin is still trying to find his place in this world and Alpha Pro. Our place is running the show."
"Fair, we can handle those matters. But.. what about his partner? I know a little, give me the historical rundown." Corey quizzically looks around the room as if asking everyone and nobody at all. The only one there is Frank.
"Who, Aaron Blaze? Everything he loves is an accident. I saw an interview once where he said he fell in love with wrestling after going to a show with his dad - a show he didn't even want to go to. Then when he finally made his goal of becoming a wrestler, he was introduced to skating - again, by pure accident, by a few guys in his training class. He even accidentally got his last name by crashing and burning so bad they ended up calling him Aaron Blaze." Frank somehow manages to spurt all this out without laughing.
Corey isn't impressed. "God, what is fuckin' with these APW people. It's like I'm back in 2002 with a bunch of goddamn nobodies stacking up. Body after body I'd throw to the ground and they just kept coming. This Blaze dude calls himself the Prince of Pain, right? Someone with such a regal name shouldn't be losing Hardcore Title matches. Ya see, this guy can be the prince of anything but at the end of it all, no matter how much pain he thinks he can handle, there's nobody better than The King. The King of All Wrestlers, longest reigning champion in Action Wrestling. Current, reigning and ALWAYS defending Hardcore Champion - I even beat Alpha Pro's resident horrorkore icon. If the Prince of Pain thinks he can step up and play with the big dogs finally, well, little Blaze is about to get snuffed out."
Frank laughs and pats Corey on the back. "Come on man, let's get out of here. We have some research and planning to do."
Corey nods, they stand up and grab their bags, heading out of the locker room and into the hallway.
We open back up to a dark and story night, lightning crashes in the distance. We're inside an apartment though, Corey Black's apartment. At the top of the tallest building in Minneapolis, floor to ceiling windows, Corey stands in front of them looking out over the city and taking in the storm's glory. He has a fancy glass, one of those short circular ones that you'd put whisky in. No doubt, there's Diet Coke in this one. Corey takes a small sip, turning to the camera which he must have paid for to be there because that's weird otherwise.
"Tsukumogami. Odd, I know. It's Japanese. It's meaning is simple, 'tool kami.' Or, even more simple, spirit tool. The Japanese believe that is you have something in your family for more than one hundred years, it is open to be inhabited by a lost spirit. This is where you'd get the swords with names, it would be grandfathers' spirit that inhabits the blade and gives it mystical powers. Now, in recent time this legend of folklore has faded but it still lingers in the minds of many. Such as Masuda Teijin. His skull mask is the vessel in which his uncle's spirit resides. To some that would be insanity. So many, they'd dispel this as a fairy tale and laugh off the concept.
But to me - to a man that has deep roots in the Japanese way.. and has been inhabited by a spirit myself, I know this to be possible. And I know the Masuda name is spoken with high regard within the professional wrestling circles. But you know what other name rings throughout the world as one to fear?
Corey Black.
I don't have a legacy to uphold, I don't have a name to make proud - I've made it all on my own. I've done this, just me, from the second I stepped foot into the business.
Or.. was it just me?
Because that spirit that was within me, the Creeping Death - it changed me. I wasn't always in control. Am I.. tsukumogami? Was I cursed with a spirit that was trying to inhabit an object, but got me instead?"
Corey looks out into the fierce storm again. Lightning crashes but a few feet from his apartment, the white light envelops the darkness of his apartment, shining it's glorious light upon nearly every inch - and Corey budges not. Deep in thought, his eyes closed. Suddenly open, staring deep into the camera.
"The past is the past, I don't see why I should dwell on the why. It happened and all I can do now is move forward. My body has been through more than this entire roster combined and yet here I stand. Masuda Teijin, I welcome the challenge you pose. I welcome your legacy and your family name as I respect and honor those which came before you. But know this, I will not relent. I will not allow easy passage to the next round of the Tag Title Tournament, as I want those belts more than I want my own livelihood. I will travel anywhere on this planet and wrestle any man, woman or being to achieve my goal. New York is my destination, the final resting place for Bad Boy Energy."
Another sip of the Diet Coke, Corey takes a seat on his couch and looks out into the vast darkness that is the skyline now. The storm rages on, obscuring any view thanks to the rain and clouds.
"Aaron ... Alstead, is it? Yeah, Frank told me about you and I did what legends fuckin' do, son - I did my due diligence. Your career has taken you to the fringes of pro wrestling. The lighttubes and flame, the barbed wire and salt. Yet when you arrived in Alpha Pro it was like you were born again. Expelled was the deathmatch syndrome and monotony you'd been living with, thrust into a minefield of actual professional wrestlers and talent unlike anything you've ever seen. You were overwhelmed time and time again, your lack of knowledge exposed as the weeks went on. It has been a month now, Aaron. And everything you have ever done has led you to where you will be in New York. Across the ring from the King of All Wrestlers. A man you may have never heard of.. but a name you will never forget, as I am going to tattoo your fucking face with my elbow and give you the best lesson you'll ever receive. Every time you look into the mirror and see what I am going to do with you, I wand you to drop to your knees and thanks whatever deity you believe in that this God didn't rip your head clean off for the fun of it.
It doesn't matter if you know who you are going against or not - goddamn kid, I didn't even know your name until two days ago - but now I know your entire life story. I know your birthday, your parent's names and what you ate for fucking breakfast. That's what makes me - me and what makes you - a footnote. A footnote in the book of the Man Made Gods' rise to glory and prominence in professional wrestling. I've carried that name for the better part of fifteen years and bestowed it upon only the very best this business has ever offered. Frank Patrick Venable has earned the right to be called a God. He will smite you with his foot and scream in pleasure 'BOOM! HEADSHOT!'
It just goes to show that no matter how respected you are, it is the company you keep that shows what kind of person you truly are. Teijin should be on his knees asking for forgiveness, yet Aaron Blaze is brash and unapologetic in a sport where the hierarchy is clearly known throughout the different companies. I may be a visitor here but fear not, it is all the same. It matters not what company name is on the banner, as soon as I step into that ring it becomes something else entirely. No longer is it an Alpha Pro Wrestling show, no no, I am above that. I am above Action Wrestling, or UCI, or hell even WCF. I am the fucking show now. And this show is coming to take the Tag Team Titles. It's not a threat, it's not a prediction, it's written in the stars."
Corey steps away from the window as the storm begins to clear. The clouds all shift and travel faster and faster until they're out of view. The night sky is illuminated by the moon and the stars above. Corey returns to frame with a blue marker. The camera zooms in on the sky, the stars twinkling. The market covers a star and begins moving upward to another star. And then down to another. Corey is tracing the stars in the sky on his own apartment window. When he is finishes the blue marker has drawn a crown. A crown.. fit for a King.
"So we're doing this again this weekend, this time against a couple of fresh guys? God man, I'm getting too old for this shit. We're in the middle of a worldwide pandemic and I'm out here in tag title tournaments, Battlebowls, XIII shows."
Frank laughs and stretches his arms a bit. "You'll be alright man, we got this. It's Masuda Teijin and Aaron Blaze."
"THAT Teijin?!" Corey asks, nearly spitting out a bunch of Diet Coke.
"Yeah, that one," Frank responds with a grin.
"The nephew of Jubei, the man Jay Price basically fucking killed at XIII last year?" Corey is pacing now.
Frank puts his hand up, "Yes, but look. This is precisely what you wanted, isn't it? You and I sent RJ Collins to Japan to learn the mystic ways, and now here it is in your front yard. Jubei's spirit is held within the mask Masuda carries and wears, there's something to this."
"Something sinister, like a spirit trying to inhabit a body. Yeah I'm familiar. His family lineage is the stuff of legend in Japan. When I'd go over there I'd always hear the rumblings of the Masuda, their ferocity and determination were apparently second to none. It was said that I would have matches well with any of them!" Corey heads over and sits next to Frank, waiting for a story like a little kid at school.
Frank obliges, he turns and faces Corey. "Now, this is where it gets really interesting. Jubei was like the catalyst here. His death sent this entire Masuda story into a tailspin. If you're to believe he inhabits the skull mask - then you believe it gives Teijin direction. It gives him a purpose in life. Kind of like the Genie's lamp and Jafar from Aladdin, or the Heart of the Ocean in Titanic."
Corey rubs his chin and strokes his beard. "Well, we have to destroy it, right?"
Frank nearly leaps out of his skin. "GOD NO what if Jubei is released onto the world again?! You basically had a hand in his death, you're probably just as cursed! No, the plan of action here is attack and win. I know Teijin like he's my own flesh, you know the Japanese style and traditions. I think if we can heal up enough to get into the ring, then our chances go through the roof. Teijin is still trying to find his place in this world and Alpha Pro. Our place is running the show."
"Fair, we can handle those matters. But.. what about his partner? I know a little, give me the historical rundown." Corey quizzically looks around the room as if asking everyone and nobody at all. The only one there is Frank.
"Who, Aaron Blaze? Everything he loves is an accident. I saw an interview once where he said he fell in love with wrestling after going to a show with his dad - a show he didn't even want to go to. Then when he finally made his goal of becoming a wrestler, he was introduced to skating - again, by pure accident, by a few guys in his training class. He even accidentally got his last name by crashing and burning so bad they ended up calling him Aaron Blaze." Frank somehow manages to spurt all this out without laughing.
Corey isn't impressed. "God, what is fuckin' with these APW people. It's like I'm back in 2002 with a bunch of goddamn nobodies stacking up. Body after body I'd throw to the ground and they just kept coming. This Blaze dude calls himself the Prince of Pain, right? Someone with such a regal name shouldn't be losing Hardcore Title matches. Ya see, this guy can be the prince of anything but at the end of it all, no matter how much pain he thinks he can handle, there's nobody better than The King. The King of All Wrestlers, longest reigning champion in Action Wrestling. Current, reigning and ALWAYS defending Hardcore Champion - I even beat Alpha Pro's resident horrorkore icon. If the Prince of Pain thinks he can step up and play with the big dogs finally, well, little Blaze is about to get snuffed out."
Frank laughs and pats Corey on the back. "Come on man, let's get out of here. We have some research and planning to do."
Corey nods, they stand up and grab their bags, heading out of the locker room and into the hallway.
We open back up to a dark and story night, lightning crashes in the distance. We're inside an apartment though, Corey Black's apartment. At the top of the tallest building in Minneapolis, floor to ceiling windows, Corey stands in front of them looking out over the city and taking in the storm's glory. He has a fancy glass, one of those short circular ones that you'd put whisky in. No doubt, there's Diet Coke in this one. Corey takes a small sip, turning to the camera which he must have paid for to be there because that's weird otherwise.
"Tsukumogami. Odd, I know. It's Japanese. It's meaning is simple, 'tool kami.' Or, even more simple, spirit tool. The Japanese believe that is you have something in your family for more than one hundred years, it is open to be inhabited by a lost spirit. This is where you'd get the swords with names, it would be grandfathers' spirit that inhabits the blade and gives it mystical powers. Now, in recent time this legend of folklore has faded but it still lingers in the minds of many. Such as Masuda Teijin. His skull mask is the vessel in which his uncle's spirit resides. To some that would be insanity. So many, they'd dispel this as a fairy tale and laugh off the concept.
But to me - to a man that has deep roots in the Japanese way.. and has been inhabited by a spirit myself, I know this to be possible. And I know the Masuda name is spoken with high regard within the professional wrestling circles. But you know what other name rings throughout the world as one to fear?
Corey Black.
I don't have a legacy to uphold, I don't have a name to make proud - I've made it all on my own. I've done this, just me, from the second I stepped foot into the business.
Or.. was it just me?
Because that spirit that was within me, the Creeping Death - it changed me. I wasn't always in control. Am I.. tsukumogami? Was I cursed with a spirit that was trying to inhabit an object, but got me instead?"
Corey looks out into the fierce storm again. Lightning crashes but a few feet from his apartment, the white light envelops the darkness of his apartment, shining it's glorious light upon nearly every inch - and Corey budges not. Deep in thought, his eyes closed. Suddenly open, staring deep into the camera.
"The past is the past, I don't see why I should dwell on the why. It happened and all I can do now is move forward. My body has been through more than this entire roster combined and yet here I stand. Masuda Teijin, I welcome the challenge you pose. I welcome your legacy and your family name as I respect and honor those which came before you. But know this, I will not relent. I will not allow easy passage to the next round of the Tag Title Tournament, as I want those belts more than I want my own livelihood. I will travel anywhere on this planet and wrestle any man, woman or being to achieve my goal. New York is my destination, the final resting place for Bad Boy Energy."
Another sip of the Diet Coke, Corey takes a seat on his couch and looks out into the vast darkness that is the skyline now. The storm rages on, obscuring any view thanks to the rain and clouds.
"Aaron ... Alstead, is it? Yeah, Frank told me about you and I did what legends fuckin' do, son - I did my due diligence. Your career has taken you to the fringes of pro wrestling. The lighttubes and flame, the barbed wire and salt. Yet when you arrived in Alpha Pro it was like you were born again. Expelled was the deathmatch syndrome and monotony you'd been living with, thrust into a minefield of actual professional wrestlers and talent unlike anything you've ever seen. You were overwhelmed time and time again, your lack of knowledge exposed as the weeks went on. It has been a month now, Aaron. And everything you have ever done has led you to where you will be in New York. Across the ring from the King of All Wrestlers. A man you may have never heard of.. but a name you will never forget, as I am going to tattoo your fucking face with my elbow and give you the best lesson you'll ever receive. Every time you look into the mirror and see what I am going to do with you, I wand you to drop to your knees and thanks whatever deity you believe in that this God didn't rip your head clean off for the fun of it.
It doesn't matter if you know who you are going against or not - goddamn kid, I didn't even know your name until two days ago - but now I know your entire life story. I know your birthday, your parent's names and what you ate for fucking breakfast. That's what makes me - me and what makes you - a footnote. A footnote in the book of the Man Made Gods' rise to glory and prominence in professional wrestling. I've carried that name for the better part of fifteen years and bestowed it upon only the very best this business has ever offered. Frank Patrick Venable has earned the right to be called a God. He will smite you with his foot and scream in pleasure 'BOOM! HEADSHOT!'
It just goes to show that no matter how respected you are, it is the company you keep that shows what kind of person you truly are. Teijin should be on his knees asking for forgiveness, yet Aaron Blaze is brash and unapologetic in a sport where the hierarchy is clearly known throughout the different companies. I may be a visitor here but fear not, it is all the same. It matters not what company name is on the banner, as soon as I step into that ring it becomes something else entirely. No longer is it an Alpha Pro Wrestling show, no no, I am above that. I am above Action Wrestling, or UCI, or hell even WCF. I am the fucking show now. And this show is coming to take the Tag Team Titles. It's not a threat, it's not a prediction, it's written in the stars."
Corey steps away from the window as the storm begins to clear. The clouds all shift and travel faster and faster until they're out of view. The night sky is illuminated by the moon and the stars above. Corey returns to frame with a blue marker. The camera zooms in on the sky, the stars twinkling. The market covers a star and begins moving upward to another star. And then down to another. Corey is tracing the stars in the sky on his own apartment window. When he is finishes the blue marker has drawn a crown. A crown.. fit for a King.
