Post by Jaice Wilds on Oct 29, 2019 22:26:35 GMT -5
Wilds shakes his head in disbelief as he rifles through the folder.
Jaice Wilds:
How? How… how could he possibly know this? I don't even…
Kalis places his glass of Cognac on the table, looking to his friend. His tone is serious, but he has a sympathetic look on his face.
Aaron Simon Kalis:
Jubei had the best geneticists and historians on hand. He traced some roots back hundreds, even thousands of years. Some of the science is a bit iffy, but...
Wilds picks up a small stack, looking over the pages.
Jaice Wilds:
Montezuma… Ramses II… Attila the Hun… Alexander the Great…
Kalis nods, taking a swig of his drink. Wilds pauses, holding up a sheet of paper.
Jaice Wilds:
Wait… I know this guy! This… he's the head of the Ikeda Clan. What is he doing in this group??
Kalis places his place on the table, circling around. He looks at some of the paperwork, cross-referencing the data.
Aaron Simon Kalis:
Tan Da Mao. According to this, he's a descendant of the royal bloodline from the Ming Dynasty. Looks like Jubei scooped him up early.
Jaice Wilds:
If he already had his… royal heir… why involve me in this whole damn thing?
Kalis sighs, pulling a USB from his inner jacket pocket. He walks over to where Jaice has his laptop set up, sliding it into the port and clicking a few buttons. Kalis explains as everything begins to light up on the screen.
Aaron Simon Kalis:
Masuda had the idea to use ancient bloodlines to stake claims to major countries. By using multiple lineages, he claims more land and usurps power faster. He takes enough political power, he reforms the world in his image.
Wilds glances between the paperwork and the laptop screen, a deep sigh.
Jaice Wilds:
I need to talk to Tan. Try and get some answers. I'll hit you up later on a secure line.
Kalis nods, giving Wilds a word of caution before he slips out. Jaice looks over all the information around him, shaking his head as he looks to the door between his room and the arena corridors…
-------------------------
The following is a letter addressed to Tsukiko; intercepted and published to the Alpha Pro Wrestling website.
Perseverance. The apparent title of my storied career. There are no excuses to my recent string of losses; I haven't been focused and my opponents have been wise enough to take advantage. After years on the circuit, it only makes sense that I would still have my off days- even if it is a few at a time.
But it's much like I told Stephen Osbourne last week; my legacy is one of perseverance. And whilst he laughed at such a notion, he now has to focus a claim to another title, while your Junior Heavyweight Championship lies squarely on my shoulder.
It only takes one opportunity. One well-timed maneuver. One second to flip the proverbial script and begin climbing the ladder again. Management saw fit to give me that chance to prove myself, and I toppled the dual-persona Osbourne for a title win. And to make it even more challenging, my very next contest is a title defense.
At HorrorKore.
In a Buried Alive in a Casket Match.
Well; I can't say I'm not surprised. I've made a large part of my career based on off-the-wall stipulation matches. One should only think that my most recent gains should be defended in such a way that defines who I am. And so, here we are.
Tsukiko, this will be the… second time? That we have squared off. Granted, the first round saw each of us saddled with a partner; and I trusted mine about as much as the common people trust their government. But facts are facts: you proved yourself worthy competition, and Sparto's pinfall over Kylie Moore solidified a victory over myself as well.
I already had respect for Spartan; but you earned it from me as well that night. You pulled your own weight, and demonstrated a level of skill that showed me why you've held this very strap before. And I would be a fool to think HorrorKore is going to be an easy test. But that stands for both of us, no? A former champion looking to regain her crown, versus a new champion eager to face down any opposition placed before him.
And this match… these grounds…
This is my world, Tsukiko. The chaos, the destruction, the mayhem; I am most at home when the rules are thrown out the window. The stench of death is just another flower in my garden; the taste of blood, another spice to my tongue. Disregard my career for a moment; my entire life has been a succession of adapting, changing and surviving. I have lived in the very bowels of devastation and made it my personal haven; so a match of this caliber is, as the saying goes, right in my wheelhouse.
I don't know what your limits are, Tsuki; nor do I hazard to guess. What I do know, however, is that I have no limits. I also rely entirely on instinct during a match. Add to that how I am prone to put myself at risk in an effort to give nothing less than my absolute best in every match… this match isn't a danger to me; I am the danger. It's not hazardous to you, my dear; it's a near-death experience. A one-way ticket to the River Styxx- and I will be certain to leave the fare for you.
I still hold you in the highest regards; don't get me wrong. However, this is HorrorKore. This is the Junior Heavyweight Championship. And when I finally find myself with everything to lose, I will be damned if I hold back in the slightest and allow you to halt my momentum. Like hell am I going to lose my first APW Title in my first defense. I will bring the full fury of Hades itself to ensure victory, no matter what the cost.
What are you willing to risk, Tsukiko? Buried Alive. In a Casket. Are you ready to look death in the face? Are you ready to face your deepest fears?? Do you have what it takes to look the devil in the face and walk away? I've already achieved all of the above; so where do you stand??
When the dust has settled, I can only think of one place- the back of the line.
I'll see you at HorrorKore.
------------------------
The smirk on his face is enough to make Jaice puke. Nonetheless, Wilds approaches Tan, determined.
Jaice Wilds:
Tan. A moment of your time?
Tan Da Mao chuckles a bit, turning to face Wilds.
Tan Da Mao:
If you know that name, then you've finally learned your purpose here. So what is it you need, General?
The condescending tone in Mao's voice puts Jaice off, his eye twitching a bit. He breathes, responding.
Jaice Wilds:
I assume, by the attitude, that you know about… all of us. So why the tournament? Why do we need to battle each other for position?
Mao chuckles, starting to walk off. Wilds scoffs, Tan waving for Jaice to follow. Tan speaks as they walk.
Tan Da Mao:
Do you know how difficult it is to get people to accept their lineage? In an age where Americans are all over genetic testing, and the world couldn't give a damn less about whether they're peasants or ancient royalty. Ridiculous.
Mao turns a corner, Wilds in tow. A few doors down the hall, Tan pulls a card from a pocket on his gi. He swipes the card, opening the door. As they step in, Jaice is taken aback by the images of Jubei and each tournament fighter on the far wall. He surveys the brackets and various mini-files as Tan continues.
Tan Da Mao:
Then, there are those like you. No aspirations to greatness, but touting a bloodline to Montezuma. For Jubei's sake; such an amazing lineage, and you're mucking about in the world of… professional wrestling. Almost happy those damn poachers screwed the job up.
Jaice stops, twisting his head ever so slightly.
Jaice Wilds:
What do you mean, screwed it up?
Mao shakes his head, heading for a filing cabinet. He enters a code on the lock, rifling through the contents. He finds a folder, throwing it at Wilds' feet.
Tan Da Mao:
They were supposed to bring you to New Orleans. Jubei had operatives there who were going to smuggle you into a plane and bring you to Japan. You were going to be trained here, with us. But something happened in the States, and you went missing. Until you popped up in the South Pacific, Masuda believed we had lost you to the great beyond. Too bad.
Jaice looks over the paperwork in the folder, shaking his head. He looks up, annoyed.
Jaice Wilds:
Yeah. I could have gone the rest of my life not knowing some manipulative power monger had tried to abduct me for some twisted world domination plot. Now I'm supposed to fight to head up his army?
Tan laughs, shaking his head.
Tan Da Mao:
Oh, General. You aren't going to win. Your lineage simply presents necessity for inclusion. The Masuda Corp, the Ikeda Clan… it's my birthright. I'm going to win this tournament, and everyone else will lie at my feet as followers in Masuda's vision to reimagine this wretched planet.
Wilds chuckles, walking over and placing the folder atop the cabinet. He stares down Mao, a slight grin.
Jaice Wilds:
First of all, what makes you think you can defeat a General of the Order? Masuda couldn't defeat us. And now I'm in the damn tourney.
Tan slaps the cabinet, turning around. He takes a deep breath, walking towards a cushion on the floor.
Tan Da Mao:
Do you know why Kalis recruited you? Why that one-eyed negroid scooped you up out of nowhere when Jubei was an arm's reach away from nabbing you up?
Wilds takes on a look of confusion, looking at the tournament brackets and then back to Tan.
Tan Da Mao:
Despite training my ass off at his side, Master Masuda always had a place for his little Mexican mongoloid. Masuda Corp should have been handed to me on a silver platter. But no! I run interference, make you disappear from a lack of wrestling employers. And yet, you always pop back up!! I had no choice. You had to fall into enemy hands. I had to be rid of you by any means necessary...
Wilds shakes his head… then looks at the filing cabinet. He picks up the folder, everything clicking together in his head.
Jaice Wilds:
You? You leaked the files! You got the information to Simon… to get rid of me?
An evil grin forms on Tan's face.
Tan Da Mao:
With you under Kalis' tutelage, Master Jubei would have no choice but to let you go. Give you up like the trash you are. I would finally gain the power and position I had trained so hard for. But no. The Order has to fall back into the shadows, meaning Kalis was no longer in the business. And once again, the only threat to my power is within Masuda's reach...
Jaice Wilds:
I never wanted any of this!! Why the hell am I such a big deal to you? To Masuda?
Tan Da Mao:
YOU'RE NOT LIKE THE REST OF US!!
Tan and Wilds breathe heavily, glaring at each other. A few moments later, Tan regains his faculties, massaging his temple as he speaks.
Tan Da Mao:
You were battle tested. You grew up training in ways we never thought relevant. And yet, here you are. Jaisinder Montez: Xtreme Aerialist, General, Innovator of Aerial Combat. You did things that Masuda couldn't help but revel at… And every passing moment he spent watching you defy the odds and come back for more punishment was another moment stolen from me!
Wilds sighs, shaking his head.
Jaice Wilds:
I'm out. I'm done. You can have the tournament; it's just not important enough for me. Have fun with the Corp.
Jaice heads for the door, grabbing the handle. Tan steps up, slamming his hand against it.
Tan Da Mao:
No, no, no. You don't get off that easily. Whether intentional or ignorant to the facts, you stole the Master's attention. And by that line, you stole my place as the heir to his throne. So you're going to compete. You're going to meet me in the finals, and you will fall at my hand and only at my hand. I will restore my honor and earn the place Jubei should have handed me years ago. Then, and only then, can you leave this tournament.
Wilds drops his head, a sigh. He looks to Mao, shaking his head.
Jaice Wilds:
And why should I give a damn about indulging your self-inflicted need for some imaginary vengeance?
Wilds opens the door, stepping out. He makes it halfway down the hall.
Tan Da Mao:
Because I know who killed your mother. And I know where to find him.
Jaice Wilds:
How? How… how could he possibly know this? I don't even…
Kalis places his glass of Cognac on the table, looking to his friend. His tone is serious, but he has a sympathetic look on his face.
Aaron Simon Kalis:
Jubei had the best geneticists and historians on hand. He traced some roots back hundreds, even thousands of years. Some of the science is a bit iffy, but...
Wilds picks up a small stack, looking over the pages.
Jaice Wilds:
Montezuma… Ramses II… Attila the Hun… Alexander the Great…
Kalis nods, taking a swig of his drink. Wilds pauses, holding up a sheet of paper.
Jaice Wilds:
Wait… I know this guy! This… he's the head of the Ikeda Clan. What is he doing in this group??
Kalis places his place on the table, circling around. He looks at some of the paperwork, cross-referencing the data.
Aaron Simon Kalis:
Tan Da Mao. According to this, he's a descendant of the royal bloodline from the Ming Dynasty. Looks like Jubei scooped him up early.
Jaice Wilds:
If he already had his… royal heir… why involve me in this whole damn thing?
Kalis sighs, pulling a USB from his inner jacket pocket. He walks over to where Jaice has his laptop set up, sliding it into the port and clicking a few buttons. Kalis explains as everything begins to light up on the screen.
Aaron Simon Kalis:
Masuda had the idea to use ancient bloodlines to stake claims to major countries. By using multiple lineages, he claims more land and usurps power faster. He takes enough political power, he reforms the world in his image.
Wilds glances between the paperwork and the laptop screen, a deep sigh.
Jaice Wilds:
I need to talk to Tan. Try and get some answers. I'll hit you up later on a secure line.
Kalis nods, giving Wilds a word of caution before he slips out. Jaice looks over all the information around him, shaking his head as he looks to the door between his room and the arena corridors…
-------------------------
The following is a letter addressed to Tsukiko; intercepted and published to the Alpha Pro Wrestling website.
Perseverance. The apparent title of my storied career. There are no excuses to my recent string of losses; I haven't been focused and my opponents have been wise enough to take advantage. After years on the circuit, it only makes sense that I would still have my off days- even if it is a few at a time.
But it's much like I told Stephen Osbourne last week; my legacy is one of perseverance. And whilst he laughed at such a notion, he now has to focus a claim to another title, while your Junior Heavyweight Championship lies squarely on my shoulder.
It only takes one opportunity. One well-timed maneuver. One second to flip the proverbial script and begin climbing the ladder again. Management saw fit to give me that chance to prove myself, and I toppled the dual-persona Osbourne for a title win. And to make it even more challenging, my very next contest is a title defense.
At HorrorKore.
In a Buried Alive in a Casket Match.
Well; I can't say I'm not surprised. I've made a large part of my career based on off-the-wall stipulation matches. One should only think that my most recent gains should be defended in such a way that defines who I am. And so, here we are.
Tsukiko, this will be the… second time? That we have squared off. Granted, the first round saw each of us saddled with a partner; and I trusted mine about as much as the common people trust their government. But facts are facts: you proved yourself worthy competition, and Sparto's pinfall over Kylie Moore solidified a victory over myself as well.
I already had respect for Spartan; but you earned it from me as well that night. You pulled your own weight, and demonstrated a level of skill that showed me why you've held this very strap before. And I would be a fool to think HorrorKore is going to be an easy test. But that stands for both of us, no? A former champion looking to regain her crown, versus a new champion eager to face down any opposition placed before him.
And this match… these grounds…
This is my world, Tsukiko. The chaos, the destruction, the mayhem; I am most at home when the rules are thrown out the window. The stench of death is just another flower in my garden; the taste of blood, another spice to my tongue. Disregard my career for a moment; my entire life has been a succession of adapting, changing and surviving. I have lived in the very bowels of devastation and made it my personal haven; so a match of this caliber is, as the saying goes, right in my wheelhouse.
I don't know what your limits are, Tsuki; nor do I hazard to guess. What I do know, however, is that I have no limits. I also rely entirely on instinct during a match. Add to that how I am prone to put myself at risk in an effort to give nothing less than my absolute best in every match… this match isn't a danger to me; I am the danger. It's not hazardous to you, my dear; it's a near-death experience. A one-way ticket to the River Styxx- and I will be certain to leave the fare for you.
I still hold you in the highest regards; don't get me wrong. However, this is HorrorKore. This is the Junior Heavyweight Championship. And when I finally find myself with everything to lose, I will be damned if I hold back in the slightest and allow you to halt my momentum. Like hell am I going to lose my first APW Title in my first defense. I will bring the full fury of Hades itself to ensure victory, no matter what the cost.
What are you willing to risk, Tsukiko? Buried Alive. In a Casket. Are you ready to look death in the face? Are you ready to face your deepest fears?? Do you have what it takes to look the devil in the face and walk away? I've already achieved all of the above; so where do you stand??
When the dust has settled, I can only think of one place- the back of the line.
I'll see you at HorrorKore.
------------------------
The smirk on his face is enough to make Jaice puke. Nonetheless, Wilds approaches Tan, determined.
Jaice Wilds:
Tan. A moment of your time?
Tan Da Mao chuckles a bit, turning to face Wilds.
Tan Da Mao:
If you know that name, then you've finally learned your purpose here. So what is it you need, General?
The condescending tone in Mao's voice puts Jaice off, his eye twitching a bit. He breathes, responding.
Jaice Wilds:
I assume, by the attitude, that you know about… all of us. So why the tournament? Why do we need to battle each other for position?
Mao chuckles, starting to walk off. Wilds scoffs, Tan waving for Jaice to follow. Tan speaks as they walk.
Tan Da Mao:
Do you know how difficult it is to get people to accept their lineage? In an age where Americans are all over genetic testing, and the world couldn't give a damn less about whether they're peasants or ancient royalty. Ridiculous.
Mao turns a corner, Wilds in tow. A few doors down the hall, Tan pulls a card from a pocket on his gi. He swipes the card, opening the door. As they step in, Jaice is taken aback by the images of Jubei and each tournament fighter on the far wall. He surveys the brackets and various mini-files as Tan continues.
Tan Da Mao:
Then, there are those like you. No aspirations to greatness, but touting a bloodline to Montezuma. For Jubei's sake; such an amazing lineage, and you're mucking about in the world of… professional wrestling. Almost happy those damn poachers screwed the job up.
Jaice stops, twisting his head ever so slightly.
Jaice Wilds:
What do you mean, screwed it up?
Mao shakes his head, heading for a filing cabinet. He enters a code on the lock, rifling through the contents. He finds a folder, throwing it at Wilds' feet.
Tan Da Mao:
They were supposed to bring you to New Orleans. Jubei had operatives there who were going to smuggle you into a plane and bring you to Japan. You were going to be trained here, with us. But something happened in the States, and you went missing. Until you popped up in the South Pacific, Masuda believed we had lost you to the great beyond. Too bad.
Jaice looks over the paperwork in the folder, shaking his head. He looks up, annoyed.
Jaice Wilds:
Yeah. I could have gone the rest of my life not knowing some manipulative power monger had tried to abduct me for some twisted world domination plot. Now I'm supposed to fight to head up his army?
Tan laughs, shaking his head.
Tan Da Mao:
Oh, General. You aren't going to win. Your lineage simply presents necessity for inclusion. The Masuda Corp, the Ikeda Clan… it's my birthright. I'm going to win this tournament, and everyone else will lie at my feet as followers in Masuda's vision to reimagine this wretched planet.
Wilds chuckles, walking over and placing the folder atop the cabinet. He stares down Mao, a slight grin.
Jaice Wilds:
First of all, what makes you think you can defeat a General of the Order? Masuda couldn't defeat us. And now I'm in the damn tourney.
Tan slaps the cabinet, turning around. He takes a deep breath, walking towards a cushion on the floor.
Tan Da Mao:
Do you know why Kalis recruited you? Why that one-eyed negroid scooped you up out of nowhere when Jubei was an arm's reach away from nabbing you up?
Wilds takes on a look of confusion, looking at the tournament brackets and then back to Tan.
Tan Da Mao:
Despite training my ass off at his side, Master Masuda always had a place for his little Mexican mongoloid. Masuda Corp should have been handed to me on a silver platter. But no! I run interference, make you disappear from a lack of wrestling employers. And yet, you always pop back up!! I had no choice. You had to fall into enemy hands. I had to be rid of you by any means necessary...
Wilds shakes his head… then looks at the filing cabinet. He picks up the folder, everything clicking together in his head.
Jaice Wilds:
You? You leaked the files! You got the information to Simon… to get rid of me?
An evil grin forms on Tan's face.
Tan Da Mao:
With you under Kalis' tutelage, Master Jubei would have no choice but to let you go. Give you up like the trash you are. I would finally gain the power and position I had trained so hard for. But no. The Order has to fall back into the shadows, meaning Kalis was no longer in the business. And once again, the only threat to my power is within Masuda's reach...
Jaice Wilds:
I never wanted any of this!! Why the hell am I such a big deal to you? To Masuda?
Tan Da Mao:
YOU'RE NOT LIKE THE REST OF US!!
Tan and Wilds breathe heavily, glaring at each other. A few moments later, Tan regains his faculties, massaging his temple as he speaks.
Tan Da Mao:
You were battle tested. You grew up training in ways we never thought relevant. And yet, here you are. Jaisinder Montez: Xtreme Aerialist, General, Innovator of Aerial Combat. You did things that Masuda couldn't help but revel at… And every passing moment he spent watching you defy the odds and come back for more punishment was another moment stolen from me!
Wilds sighs, shaking his head.
Jaice Wilds:
I'm out. I'm done. You can have the tournament; it's just not important enough for me. Have fun with the Corp.
Jaice heads for the door, grabbing the handle. Tan steps up, slamming his hand against it.
Tan Da Mao:
No, no, no. You don't get off that easily. Whether intentional or ignorant to the facts, you stole the Master's attention. And by that line, you stole my place as the heir to his throne. So you're going to compete. You're going to meet me in the finals, and you will fall at my hand and only at my hand. I will restore my honor and earn the place Jubei should have handed me years ago. Then, and only then, can you leave this tournament.
Wilds drops his head, a sigh. He looks to Mao, shaking his head.
Jaice Wilds:
And why should I give a damn about indulging your self-inflicted need for some imaginary vengeance?
Wilds opens the door, stepping out. He makes it halfway down the hall.
Tan Da Mao:
Because I know who killed your mother. And I know where to find him.
