Jubei and Spartan and Kennedy and More Shit
Sept 20, 2019 19:24:39 GMT -5
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Post by Jaice Wilds on Sept 20, 2019 19:24:39 GMT -5
So this is usually where I put some more cool CD type shit. But, see, I wrote this part of my roleplay last. So I'm entirely lost here. I mean, I essentially addressed #AllTheThings during my shoot and other CD, so…
Maybe… here's a picture of a unicorn. Cuz why not?
-------------------------
The following is a letter addressed to Spartan; intercepted and published to the Alpha Pro Wrestling website.
It has been a trying few weeks. After my tumultuous victory over Allen Anderson at Ascension, I fought injured against a worthy foe in the form of Noris Cranley. Follow that up with a handicap match against Charmaine DaGawd and the Hardcore Champion? Well… let's just say I'm not feeling like the unhinged warrior I usually am.
But if I know anything about warriors, it's that we never let the circumstances keep us down for long. You would know about that, Spartan. After all; you already have a loss notched into your belt at my hands, yet you refuse to lie down. No; it's quite the opposite, in fact. That's one of the things I respect most about you, man. You and I have another bout this week, and you are no doubt preparing yourself for the fight of your life. Broken, bruised and battered, you come out to the ring week after week after week and put out a championship effort. And that is why, Spartan, I have nothing but the utmost respect for you. Why I have been one of your biggest supporters since you stepped foot through APW's doors. You are a warrior, a leader, a symbol of what this business is about.
And I honestly believe that. However, I stand at the precipice of a career renewal. Last week, I was slated to team up with Masuda Jubei in a match that would have been the epitome of this business. Alas; the Master expired at XIII, leaving me to my own devices against two very worthy adversaries. The thing is, I was entirely fractured on having to work with our departed World Champion. As a wrestler, I had nothing but the utmost respect for Jubei. However, there were things he was doing as of late with the Masuda Corp that- for the sake of not speaking ill of the dead- didn't live up to the glory of his legend. And with that division in my mind, I went into Metal heavy of heart. A man who held my respect in one hand, and my growing doubt in the other; suddenly unable to fulfill his part in our conjoined efforts.
But you… you don't care much for all that. Whether alone or in tag matches, whether having to abide by the rules or having the book thrown out; you're concerned only about making a name for yourself. Your only worry is that you trample a path of victory and respect on your way to championship gold and a place in the annals of wrestling history. I'm dealing with maintaining my place in these hallowed halls, personal drama, professional standings… And you're simply doing you. I admire that, Spartan. Hell, I almost envy you.
Except that I've been there already. I've paved my way to the proverbial mountain top. I've played the lone wolf card, blazing trails and cementing myself in the history books. At this point, I'm practically a shoo-in for any one of multiple Hall of Fames once I finally retire. But I am not there yet. I still have one more road to follow before I even begin to fathom my misty fadeaway. And my road to placing my name beside the greats is born anew as I face you this week.
Two championship level competitors. One with an opportunity at Supremacy. The other… making his mark as next in line after Smith Jones does battle with whomever wins this week's main event. You have proven your worth as a competitor, my friend; and I will shake your hand when this bout has ended. I have no doubts that you will bring the fight to me this week, and that you'll give Road Dawg hell at Supremacy. But at the end of the day, I am the Last General for a reason. I am referred to as a Living Legend for a purpose. As good as you- or anyone else in this business, for that matter- may be, I am the epitome to whom all others aspire to be. I am the measuring stick to which all others are compared; and though you may come close, you still falter like all the others. All your brawn, all your mettle, all your will to carry on will no doubt result in a match that will steal the show. But when the dust settles, there can be no other end. When the final bell tolls, it will be the hand of the Xtreme Aerialist raised high in victory, you regaining consciousness and hoping to learn from the intense battle you just went through.
It will be a war, my friend. I will not be so foolish as to underestimate what it is you bring to the table. But I will bring the full force of my innovative arsenal into this match and once again leave it all between the ropes. My only hope is that, as battered and bruised as we both inevitably will be, we will still have a mutual respect between us when the night is over.
I'll see you at Metal, Spartan. Until then… be well.
------------------------
Jaice runs a hand through his locks, inhaling deeply. He shakes his head, unsure how to answer the question.
Troy Butler:
I mean, one would think it complicates things, right?
Wilds shakes his head, throwing his arms up in bewilderment.
Jaice Wilds:
I mean, I can separate my business and personal life without an issue. If she wanted to boost herself into Alpha, she could have easily told me about the miscarriage and I would have helped her slide in. But to lie to me like that?? To use me, like these last few months meant nothing to her…
Wilds slumps into a chair, placing his right palm over his face. The APW interviewer places his notepad on the table, walking over and taking a seat beside the Xtreme Aerialist.
Troy Butler:
Completely off the record. Are you gonna be okay??
Wilds looks up, sighing as he looks into a pair of concerned eyes. He feigns a grin, placing a hand on Troy's shoulder.
Jaice Wilds:
I appreciate your concern, Mr Butler. I'm going to have to think about this for a few days; the last thing I want to do is make a rash decision with heightened emotions. I still love Kennedy… but this…
Troy places a hand on Wilds' shoulder, standing. He nods a deep sigh escapes his nostrils.
Troy Butler:
Why don't I give you a few days to ponder, and you call me up when you're ready for a proper interview? You deserve to have a clear mind when giving a word to the fans.
Jaice nods, standing. He offers a hand to Troy, who eagerly shakes it. Troy heads off, grabbing his notebook as he exits. Jaice sits back in his chair, pulling his phone out. He starts pulling a number up, staring at the screen for a few moments. He violently throws the phone, shaking his head as he walks off. Were anyone present, they could make out the face of Kennedy Matthews on the cracked screen…
Maybe… here's a picture of a unicorn. Cuz why not?
-------------------------
The following is a letter addressed to Spartan; intercepted and published to the Alpha Pro Wrestling website.
It has been a trying few weeks. After my tumultuous victory over Allen Anderson at Ascension, I fought injured against a worthy foe in the form of Noris Cranley. Follow that up with a handicap match against Charmaine DaGawd and the Hardcore Champion? Well… let's just say I'm not feeling like the unhinged warrior I usually am.
But if I know anything about warriors, it's that we never let the circumstances keep us down for long. You would know about that, Spartan. After all; you already have a loss notched into your belt at my hands, yet you refuse to lie down. No; it's quite the opposite, in fact. That's one of the things I respect most about you, man. You and I have another bout this week, and you are no doubt preparing yourself for the fight of your life. Broken, bruised and battered, you come out to the ring week after week after week and put out a championship effort. And that is why, Spartan, I have nothing but the utmost respect for you. Why I have been one of your biggest supporters since you stepped foot through APW's doors. You are a warrior, a leader, a symbol of what this business is about.
And I honestly believe that. However, I stand at the precipice of a career renewal. Last week, I was slated to team up with Masuda Jubei in a match that would have been the epitome of this business. Alas; the Master expired at XIII, leaving me to my own devices against two very worthy adversaries. The thing is, I was entirely fractured on having to work with our departed World Champion. As a wrestler, I had nothing but the utmost respect for Jubei. However, there were things he was doing as of late with the Masuda Corp that- for the sake of not speaking ill of the dead- didn't live up to the glory of his legend. And with that division in my mind, I went into Metal heavy of heart. A man who held my respect in one hand, and my growing doubt in the other; suddenly unable to fulfill his part in our conjoined efforts.
But you… you don't care much for all that. Whether alone or in tag matches, whether having to abide by the rules or having the book thrown out; you're concerned only about making a name for yourself. Your only worry is that you trample a path of victory and respect on your way to championship gold and a place in the annals of wrestling history. I'm dealing with maintaining my place in these hallowed halls, personal drama, professional standings… And you're simply doing you. I admire that, Spartan. Hell, I almost envy you.
Except that I've been there already. I've paved my way to the proverbial mountain top. I've played the lone wolf card, blazing trails and cementing myself in the history books. At this point, I'm practically a shoo-in for any one of multiple Hall of Fames once I finally retire. But I am not there yet. I still have one more road to follow before I even begin to fathom my misty fadeaway. And my road to placing my name beside the greats is born anew as I face you this week.
Two championship level competitors. One with an opportunity at Supremacy. The other… making his mark as next in line after Smith Jones does battle with whomever wins this week's main event. You have proven your worth as a competitor, my friend; and I will shake your hand when this bout has ended. I have no doubts that you will bring the fight to me this week, and that you'll give Road Dawg hell at Supremacy. But at the end of the day, I am the Last General for a reason. I am referred to as a Living Legend for a purpose. As good as you- or anyone else in this business, for that matter- may be, I am the epitome to whom all others aspire to be. I am the measuring stick to which all others are compared; and though you may come close, you still falter like all the others. All your brawn, all your mettle, all your will to carry on will no doubt result in a match that will steal the show. But when the dust settles, there can be no other end. When the final bell tolls, it will be the hand of the Xtreme Aerialist raised high in victory, you regaining consciousness and hoping to learn from the intense battle you just went through.
It will be a war, my friend. I will not be so foolish as to underestimate what it is you bring to the table. But I will bring the full force of my innovative arsenal into this match and once again leave it all between the ropes. My only hope is that, as battered and bruised as we both inevitably will be, we will still have a mutual respect between us when the night is over.
I'll see you at Metal, Spartan. Until then… be well.
------------------------
Jaice runs a hand through his locks, inhaling deeply. He shakes his head, unsure how to answer the question.
Troy Butler:
I mean, one would think it complicates things, right?
Wilds shakes his head, throwing his arms up in bewilderment.
Jaice Wilds:
I mean, I can separate my business and personal life without an issue. If she wanted to boost herself into Alpha, she could have easily told me about the miscarriage and I would have helped her slide in. But to lie to me like that?? To use me, like these last few months meant nothing to her…
Wilds slumps into a chair, placing his right palm over his face. The APW interviewer places his notepad on the table, walking over and taking a seat beside the Xtreme Aerialist.
Troy Butler:
Completely off the record. Are you gonna be okay??
Wilds looks up, sighing as he looks into a pair of concerned eyes. He feigns a grin, placing a hand on Troy's shoulder.
Jaice Wilds:
I appreciate your concern, Mr Butler. I'm going to have to think about this for a few days; the last thing I want to do is make a rash decision with heightened emotions. I still love Kennedy… but this…
Troy places a hand on Wilds' shoulder, standing. He nods a deep sigh escapes his nostrils.
Troy Butler:
Why don't I give you a few days to ponder, and you call me up when you're ready for a proper interview? You deserve to have a clear mind when giving a word to the fans.
Jaice nods, standing. He offers a hand to Troy, who eagerly shakes it. Troy heads off, grabbing his notebook as he exits. Jaice sits back in his chair, pulling his phone out. He starts pulling a number up, staring at the screen for a few moments. He violently throws the phone, shaking his head as he walks off. Were anyone present, they could make out the face of Kennedy Matthews on the cracked screen…
