Post by america on Aug 16, 2020 22:28:04 GMT -5
Things fall apart.
America could see the cracks in the lining. Where a month ago he’d felt invincible, he was now starting to wonder when the structure of his life would collapse around him. He was starting to get comfortable in the world of professional wrestling. The schedule was tough and he certainly didn’t feel enough time to recover, but he found the aches lightening with each week, though he was sure his first time working both AW and APW would lead to stiffness from the travel if nothing else. Still he was comfortable because he was good at it. Despite two losses behind him, he had yet to suffer a fall himself in APW. He had the American Title and enough money to keep his mother and home well taken care of.
And yet.
Zaigon was unravelling.
He could see it. Of course, he could see it. He owed his life to Zaigon Carter. He trusted and respected him. He would fight for Zaigon Carter with blood and bone if the situation demanded it. After all, fighting for Zaigon Carter was fighting for his house and home, for his family, for his whole damn life. He wouldn’t let himself be stopped now that he was so close to putting everything together.
But Zaigon was unravelling.
The euphoria of winning the title had been short lived. A chance at greatness and greatness achieved so soon was elating, but they had let themselves think the worst was behind them. Assured of their success, they got complacent. That had meant their first loss as a team and for Zaigon, the first several losses of his run. The first wasn’t much. A disputable technical submission against one of the reigning tag champs. The second, another technical submission to a barrage from two opponents at once while America was indisposed. No one could fault him those.
But Cray Mitchell.
America had beaten Cray Mitchell in his first singles match ever. He knew the worth of Cray Mitchell as a competitor. On one level, he respected the heart of the man, stepping in there and fighting with all he was worth. But he wasn’t fighting at the level of the Storm. What should have been a clear victory for the APW Champion turned into an embarrassing defeat.
Convinced of enemies on all sides, Zaigon had been harder and harder to reach in the past month. Not in the sense of contacting him. America could call any time or set up a meeting and Zaigon would join him like he had before. But there was an emptiness to him. A hungry void demanding to be filled. America had seen it before when they were lining up their respective title shots. He thought the victory would fill it. But being champion did nothing to sate Zaigon Carter. Instead it fuelled a paranoid spiral which caused him to make mistakes America would have thought impossible beforehand.
America could feel the pressure falling upon him.
When Zaigon Carter found him, he’d been on the verge of washing out of MMA, a fledgling career which was only barely paying the bills. He loved to fight. He’d been a competitor all his life. More than that though, America needed to make sure the money kept coming so that he could make sure his mom, his home, his everything stayed together.
If the Storm fell, Zaigon Carter could go back to his business and continue being a rich man.
If the Storm fell, America Jackson’s world ended.
So America taped his fists and prepared himself. If he had to be great enough to carry the whole show, he would be. If he had to find a way to beat the Man Made Gods by himself so they could finally hold the tag titles, he’d find a way to do it. He couldn’t falter. He needed to make sure that Zaigon Carter’s slip wouldn’t lead to America’s fall. He owed Zaigon more than he could ever say, but…he wouldn’t die for him. He wouldn’t sacrifice his mom for him. America hated himself for thinking it, but there was the very real possibility that if Zaigon Carter lost the APW Title, he could end the whole initiative.
If that happened…
If the Storm fell…
America Jackson would need to be a man who could not be replaced on his own merits.
He needed to stay unbeaten.
He needed to stay the American Champion.
And if…
If Zaigon Carter couldn’t retain the APW World Championship at Showdown.
America Jackson would have to win it.
This week, America Jackson faces obsolescence.
Sorry DVD, but Blu-Ray already won that war.
Jokes aside, this match is almost unfair. A tag specialist who’s had an absence of luck so far in his time here against the unbeaten champion of America himself, America Jackson. It’s a match which would have made a great warm up in that first month, but now that he’s got the gold around his waist and the wins at his back, I do have to wonder if management has an issue with you Dave. You can come on out to prove yourself and make your argument for a shot against him, but I assure you, despite Sarah Lacklan’s annoying ability to sneak wins out from under him without ever beating him, America Jackson is every bit the champion his record would suggest.
I can understand it though. The desire to prove yourself. You even started on a similar foot to the Storm, defeating the Very Big Supervillains. Sure your method of victory was…questionable, but we’re men of results after all. You pulled it off. But then you fail to conquer a broken, makeshift team of enemies? Your partner abandons you to the wind? It’s all so pathetic I may well be pitying you.
Your career here in APW has become stillborn. A gasp of air choked into oblivion. With no partner and no momentum, all you have is a hope and a prayer that you can fight against the odds and be the first to pin or submit one of the best athletes and toughest champions this company has ever had. You’ll put it all on the line…and then you’ll fade back into obscurity, humbled and conquered because America Jackson has been better than you from the starting line.
You’ll be beaten, tossed, and all around victimized into submission. You’ll leave APW a shell, knowing you failed to achieve your dreams not because of chance or because of opportunity, but because you looked in the eyes of the truly great, touched something beyond you, and were torn asunder by its brilliance.
A hope and a prayer, Dave.
But what weapon is a hope and a prayer against a man of god?
So you will be left broken.
Shattered in the wake of the Storm.
Your hopes and dreams, meaningless.
For there is only one dream that matters in this company anymore.
The American Dream.
The Storm lives, eats, and breathes that dream.
America Jackson embodies it.
When you fall.
When it hurts.
Take solace in that.
In understanding that your defeat?
Helps keep APW…Great.
America could see the cracks in the lining. Where a month ago he’d felt invincible, he was now starting to wonder when the structure of his life would collapse around him. He was starting to get comfortable in the world of professional wrestling. The schedule was tough and he certainly didn’t feel enough time to recover, but he found the aches lightening with each week, though he was sure his first time working both AW and APW would lead to stiffness from the travel if nothing else. Still he was comfortable because he was good at it. Despite two losses behind him, he had yet to suffer a fall himself in APW. He had the American Title and enough money to keep his mother and home well taken care of.
And yet.
Zaigon was unravelling.
He could see it. Of course, he could see it. He owed his life to Zaigon Carter. He trusted and respected him. He would fight for Zaigon Carter with blood and bone if the situation demanded it. After all, fighting for Zaigon Carter was fighting for his house and home, for his family, for his whole damn life. He wouldn’t let himself be stopped now that he was so close to putting everything together.
But Zaigon was unravelling.
The euphoria of winning the title had been short lived. A chance at greatness and greatness achieved so soon was elating, but they had let themselves think the worst was behind them. Assured of their success, they got complacent. That had meant their first loss as a team and for Zaigon, the first several losses of his run. The first wasn’t much. A disputable technical submission against one of the reigning tag champs. The second, another technical submission to a barrage from two opponents at once while America was indisposed. No one could fault him those.
But Cray Mitchell.
America had beaten Cray Mitchell in his first singles match ever. He knew the worth of Cray Mitchell as a competitor. On one level, he respected the heart of the man, stepping in there and fighting with all he was worth. But he wasn’t fighting at the level of the Storm. What should have been a clear victory for the APW Champion turned into an embarrassing defeat.
Convinced of enemies on all sides, Zaigon had been harder and harder to reach in the past month. Not in the sense of contacting him. America could call any time or set up a meeting and Zaigon would join him like he had before. But there was an emptiness to him. A hungry void demanding to be filled. America had seen it before when they were lining up their respective title shots. He thought the victory would fill it. But being champion did nothing to sate Zaigon Carter. Instead it fuelled a paranoid spiral which caused him to make mistakes America would have thought impossible beforehand.
America could feel the pressure falling upon him.
When Zaigon Carter found him, he’d been on the verge of washing out of MMA, a fledgling career which was only barely paying the bills. He loved to fight. He’d been a competitor all his life. More than that though, America needed to make sure the money kept coming so that he could make sure his mom, his home, his everything stayed together.
If the Storm fell, Zaigon Carter could go back to his business and continue being a rich man.
If the Storm fell, America Jackson’s world ended.
So America taped his fists and prepared himself. If he had to be great enough to carry the whole show, he would be. If he had to find a way to beat the Man Made Gods by himself so they could finally hold the tag titles, he’d find a way to do it. He couldn’t falter. He needed to make sure that Zaigon Carter’s slip wouldn’t lead to America’s fall. He owed Zaigon more than he could ever say, but…he wouldn’t die for him. He wouldn’t sacrifice his mom for him. America hated himself for thinking it, but there was the very real possibility that if Zaigon Carter lost the APW Title, he could end the whole initiative.
If that happened…
If the Storm fell…
America Jackson would need to be a man who could not be replaced on his own merits.
He needed to stay unbeaten.
He needed to stay the American Champion.
And if…
If Zaigon Carter couldn’t retain the APW World Championship at Showdown.
America Jackson would have to win it.
This week, America Jackson faces obsolescence.
Sorry DVD, but Blu-Ray already won that war.
Jokes aside, this match is almost unfair. A tag specialist who’s had an absence of luck so far in his time here against the unbeaten champion of America himself, America Jackson. It’s a match which would have made a great warm up in that first month, but now that he’s got the gold around his waist and the wins at his back, I do have to wonder if management has an issue with you Dave. You can come on out to prove yourself and make your argument for a shot against him, but I assure you, despite Sarah Lacklan’s annoying ability to sneak wins out from under him without ever beating him, America Jackson is every bit the champion his record would suggest.
I can understand it though. The desire to prove yourself. You even started on a similar foot to the Storm, defeating the Very Big Supervillains. Sure your method of victory was…questionable, but we’re men of results after all. You pulled it off. But then you fail to conquer a broken, makeshift team of enemies? Your partner abandons you to the wind? It’s all so pathetic I may well be pitying you.
Your career here in APW has become stillborn. A gasp of air choked into oblivion. With no partner and no momentum, all you have is a hope and a prayer that you can fight against the odds and be the first to pin or submit one of the best athletes and toughest champions this company has ever had. You’ll put it all on the line…and then you’ll fade back into obscurity, humbled and conquered because America Jackson has been better than you from the starting line.
You’ll be beaten, tossed, and all around victimized into submission. You’ll leave APW a shell, knowing you failed to achieve your dreams not because of chance or because of opportunity, but because you looked in the eyes of the truly great, touched something beyond you, and were torn asunder by its brilliance.
A hope and a prayer, Dave.
But what weapon is a hope and a prayer against a man of god?
So you will be left broken.
Shattered in the wake of the Storm.
Your hopes and dreams, meaningless.
For there is only one dream that matters in this company anymore.
The American Dream.
The Storm lives, eats, and breathes that dream.
America Jackson embodies it.
When you fall.
When it hurts.
Take solace in that.
In understanding that your defeat?
Helps keep APW…Great.
