|PAGES: «prev 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 next»||REPLY TO THIS THREAD QUICK REPLY START NEW THREAD|
total posts: 6187
since: Jun 2004
Apr 9, 13 at 9:12am ^re: Total Championship Wrestling: Roleplay Thread II
Log in to remove this advertisement
Ladies and Gentleman, Cornette Face Productions proudly presents:
"HEHEHEHE: a 4-4-2 of Doom Story"
Gimmick: The Super Beast
Recent Events/History: At King of the Ring, Brock Lesnar shocked the world with his return. He seemingly came from nowhere to interfere in the Main Event, and his actions directly had an impact on Dean Ambrose retaining his World Heavyweight Championship. A plethora of questions need to be answered. Why has he returned? What are his intentions for TCW? Why did he savagely attack THE Brian Kendrick and Ryback, apparently turning his back on Paul Heyman in doing so? Why here, and why now?
TCW cameras pick up live at ringside with the announcing trio of Michael Cole, Booker T, and Tazz. There is a noticeably somber expression adoring each of their faces during this segway from the previous segment on this special Fallout edition of Warzone. The fans in attendance who are seated behind the announce booth immediately begin taunting towards the direction of the camera, each trying to appear on TV if only for a moment for their one second of face time.
Cole: Well, it was quite the scene last night at King the Ring in the main event where Dean Ambrose as we all know was crowned the new Heavyweight Champion, thanks in large part to the actions of Brock Lesnar.
Tazz: Yeah you said it, Brock Lesna’ appeared from out of no where and wreaked havoc on THE Brian Kendrick and took out Ryback as well!
Booker: I still cain’t believe what we witnessed last night, yall. That was a serious beat down that Brock Lesnar delivered last night!
Cole: Indeed it was Booker, and right now we want to recap the events of King of the Ring for those of you who didn’t get a chance to see it live.
The TCW cameras cut away to footage from last nights main event:
quoteThe camera feed then cuts back to the arena, specifically to the top of the entrance ramp as the crowd pops at the footage they just witnessed. The reshowing of the chaotic events that transpired not twenty four hours ago has fired up this capacity crowd to a fever pitch.
At first there is silence, but within moments there is a deafening roar of the crowd as the sound system booms with the iconic opening sustained guitar chords of ”Next Big Thing”. However, unlike the previous night, there is something distinctly different as the lights suddenly dim to pitch black, before a plethora of bright neon greens, purples, oranges, and reds begin strobing across the arena. As the crowd pops and reign heat down at the top of the ramp, a very different tune begins playing.
Spoiler:Brock's Superbeast Entrance
Here's how I envision Brock's Entrance theme.
First three seconds of this:
Followed by the 12 second mark of super beast.
Cole: Oh my!
Booker: Aw no!
Tazz: Aww yeah! Looks like we didn’t have to wait long for some answers. Here comes the pain!
Here it comes indeed. As the bright strobe lights continue to circle throughout the arena, Brock Lesnar makes his way from behind the curtain to a genuinely mixed reaction. A large part of the crowd cheer for him simply because he is a heel, but the slight majority give him the boos his character deserves. He is dressed in his full UFC attire, with red and white trunks overtop of his black ring boots. He goes to the top of the ramp and performs his signature entrance warm up, bouncing on the balls of his heels several times before bringing his arms over top of his head and then powerfully stamping down. “Superbeast” continues to dominate the arena as the hulking mountain of a man powerfully ambles down to the ring. He stops as he gets to the ring apron, and in one powerful jump, leaps to the top and enters the ring.
Cole: We are in for some dark days ahead with this..this…this monster running lose in TCW. Brock Lesnar is the same man he was when he debuted in this business so many years ago. The man is a psychopath. He’s an animal!
Tazz: Now hold on Girlpants, don’t soil your diapers just yet. Lets here what the man has to say first before you start slandering him like that. Besides, I wouldn’t want him to hear that if I were you.
There is a very creepy smile on the face of Lesnar as he walks over to the announcer’s side of the ring, extending his arm to ask for a mic. from Lillian Garcia. She trembles as she steps toward the behemoth that is Lesnar, and he violently rips the microphone from her hand before turning back to the ring. The lighting returns when he reaches the center of the ring. The mixed reaction he has been receiving up till this point continues as he looks around the arena. That smile, that creepy sinister smile continues to adorn his face as chants of “Lesnar, Lesnar, Lesnar” start to build. These just make him laugh, which in turn draws the ire of the crowd. He knows he’s done a dastardly dead, and he’s clearly satisfied with his work. He goes to speak.
Lesnar:…Why Brock? Why?...That’s what you people want to know right? Why would Brock Lesnar interfere in a match he had no business being involved in? Why would I help screw Brian Kendrick out of a title? Why did I turn my back on Paul Heyman? Why? Why? Why? You know what-SHUT UP!
This was directed at some fans that started to audibly boo Lesnar. He instantly gets some vicious cheap heat from this capacity crowd.
Lesnar:You people make me sick! All my life, you people have been nothing but rude and disrespectful to Brock Lesnar. All my life, since I was a little boy, all you’ve done is label me things like “Monster” or “Freak” simply because of my size, and my power! You people chose to label me as an animal, so what do you expect? So then when I choose to use my power, and my ability for my own needs, you people then have the gall to boo me? Well *BEEP* YOU!
Cole: Folks we apologize for the language.
Tazz: Yeah, hopefully the censor was paying attention. This is a family show Brock.
Like he cares. Brock gives this crowd a cold death glare as showers of boos and heat rain down upon him from all corners of the arena. A small asshole chant tries to build, but its quelled when Lesnar lifts the microphone back up to his mouth.
Lesnar: Brock Lesnar doesn’t owe anyone here an explanation for anything. Hell, I don’t even know why I’m wasting my words on you ingrates. But as for why did I beat the hell out of Brian Kendrick and Ryback last night? Why? Why? Why? Its simple…because I can.
Another sadistic smile forms on the face of Brock as he continues to speak, in spite of the heat from the crowd.
Lesnar: Like I said, you people have always labeled me a “Monster” or a “Freak.” Why? Because that’s exactly what I am. My entire life, all I’ve ever done is hurt people. All I’ve ever done, is fight. I’ve been winning fights and hurting people since I was a child, and over the years I’ve become very…very good at it. I have won EVERY SINGLE major title in every single division I have ever competed in. I am not in TCW anymore to win belts. I’ve done that. The TCW Heavyweight Title? I couldn’t give a rats ass about that. All I’m here to do, is to do what I love…and that is hurt people, and make them suffer.
He smiles and chuckles evilly to himself as he lets that sink in. He paces around the ring as he transitions.
Lesnar: So when Paul Heyman asked me to come back into TCW to screw Dean Ambrose? I jumped at the chance. I WANTED the opportunity to cause someone pain. What I did last night, when I tasted Kendrick and Ryback’s blood? That was the best feeling I’ve had in a loooong ass time. But why Brock? Why did Brock Lesnar turn his back on Paul Heyman? I was asked to screw Dean Ambrose over, not Brian Kendrick! Again. Why? Because I can. You see Paul Heyman is one of the lowest, sorriest excuses for a human being I have ever met in my life. But for everything that you aren’t Paul, I’ll give you credit, you are a master negotiator. You see Paul was able to negotiate a contract that allows me, to do whatever I want, to WHOMEVER I WANT, and not be held responsible for any injuries or damages that anyone sustains at my hands. That’s exactly right, Brock Lesnar can do anything he wants to anyone he wants…and there’s not a damn thing anyone can do to stop me! I can’t be fired, I can’t be sued, I can’t be arrested, NOTHING! Its not my problem. So Paul, I know you’re back there, have you figured it out yet? Why I did what I did last night? You dumb son of a bitch?
He takes several steps toward the camera, grabbing it by the lens, and pointing it right up at his face.
Lesnar: I-USED-YOU-PAUL! I used your sorry pathetic ass to get this contract and get myself in a position where I could do whatever I wanted to whomever I wanted, without having to worry about the consequences. And now that I’ve gotten what I want from you? Well Brock Lesnar says GO TO HELL PAUL HEYMAN! You can join the rest of these ridiculous people who’ve done nothing but label me and tell me what I am! NOBODY CONTROLS BROCK LESNAR! NOBODY! I answer to ME! ME! You people understand? I DO WHAT I WANT, WHEN I WANT, AND HOW I WANT IT! And I swear to god, before I am finished…I am going to make every single last *beeping* one of you suffer. And I am going to enjoy every last second of it…
Booker:…Tell me…he did NOT…just say that.
Cole: Lesnar’s insane. He’s not right in the head…listening to him speak…there’s something really wrong with him…he’s actually manipulated Paul Heyman, a man who helped him get into this business just so he could…hurt people?
Tazz: I don’t know think you may be right, Cole. I…I don’t know what to think.
This crowd’s reaction has been toned down by Lesnar’s rhetoric. There is a shocked air of silence hanging over the crowd as Lesnar backs away from the camera, circling the ring and pacing back and forth. Its almost like he is a caged animal, like a lion looking out at a sea of onlookers through his ringed prison.
Lesnar: And as for Dean Ambrose? He gets it. Ambrose is a guy who realizes that he only wants one thing. He just wants to keep his Title, and he doesn’t care what he has to do to keep it around his waist. I…respect…Dean Ambrose. He’s not like you people. He doesn’t judge me for who I am, he doesn’t reduce me to some circus FREAK! He wants to keep that title around his waist, he’s not getting in my way, I don’t mind helping him in anyway that I can…are you bastards getting the point yet? Cause if not, I’m going to bottom line it for you right now. Here’s how it’s going to be from now on.
He briefly pauses again, letting his words sink into the minds of everyone in attendance or watching at home around the world.
Lesnar: I don’t care…if you are an old man…a small child…if you are male or female…as long as Brock Lesnar is in TCW, no one is safe from me. I am here to do one thing, and that is hurt you. I am here to hurt you, and you, and you! I’m here to hurt you Michael Cole, I’m here to hurt you Tazz, I’m here to hurt the douche bag working the ring bell, EVERYONE! You see my entrance music says it all. You people have been calling me a Monster all my life. You’ve made me this way. I AM the one that you wanted. I AM the Super Beast! Dammit, I AM BROCK LESNAR! I AM THE FEAR BRINGER! I am the most dominant athlete ever to step into a ring. I am the best fighter in the world. You people should’ve been careful what you’ve wished for. Because I swear to god, I will stop at nothing to make every single one of your lives a perpetual, living, hellllll. So on behalf of every career that I’m going to end, and every body I’m going to put in a hospital, I’d like to officially welcome you to the beginning of your worst *beeping* nightmare…here comes the pain! Hahaha…
He just smiles and begins cackling wildly, dropping the microphone as he exits the ring. He is peppered with boos, yet the atmosphere in the ring remains one of shocked silence. The tirade Lesnar just went on was deeply disturbing. Threatening innocent women and children? What kind of destructive force has been unleashed upon this world? The last image we see before the cameras cut to a commercial is a close up shot of Lesnar’s face walking up the entrance ramp, smiling sadistically and still cackling to himself. That laugh, that eerie, haunting, psychotic laugh is picked up by the camera’s microphone. As the feed fades to black, the announce team is speechless. May heaven help us all.
|posts in thread|
Apr 13, 13 at 12:28pm ^re: Total Championship Wrestling: Roleplay Thread II
Dean Ambrose vs. Antonio Cesaro
The screen opens up with a small video package, highlighting all of the matches for tonight's event. As the video package ends, we are taken backstage where there is already an interview set prepared. Welcoming us to the show is none other than TCW resident interviewer, Todd Grisham. With a microphone in his hand, Todd Grisham would waste no time in kicking off this exclusive.
|posts in thread|
Apr 14, 13 at 2:51pm ^re: Total Championship Wrestling: Roleplay Thread II
"Sir" William Regal
Finishers: Power of the Punch, Regal Plex.
The camera cuts to the outside of the familiar "summer house" of "Sir" William Regal, the camera then cuts to a large gym. We see Matt Striker standing by a wrestling ring currently being used by "Sir" William Regal and Dave Taylor.
We see Regal and Taylor exchanging holds and reversals, each groaning as each new hold is locked in on one another, the sweat dripping from their faces. Classic mat wrestling from the pair who have been in this game for well over 60 years between them. They then stop as they see Matt Striker and the cameras standing there at ring side, Regal calls for a brake from the mat session ,grabs his water and towel and heads out of the ring and towards an eager Matt Striker.
Matt Striker: Hello ladies and gentlemen, I'm Matt Striker and I'm at the gym of the British Blue Blood "Sir" William regal. Thank you for allowing us into your home for this interview.
Regal: Anytime Mr Striker but please be quick I don't want to cramp up.
Matt Striker: Sure, i'll make this as quick as I can, Last week we witnessed a new you, starting to eat healthy, more time at the gym and from what we've seen here today even greater focus on your craft, mat wrestling. How are you finding this new you now your into your second week?
Regal: Well I'd be lie'ing if I said it was easy, if it was easy I wouldn't of been trying hard enough. At no other time in the last 20 years have I ached as much I have been these two weeks, so I must be doing something right. I've had the urge to have a cheeky class of Brandy and the odd chip butty but I resisted and feel better for it. I've always kept my mat skills sharp by training over the years but not as regularly and with as much drive and intensity as I have been these last 2 weeks. I even called Dave to help me keep focused and push me to the limit, I wouldn't trust many other people in this world as much as trust my good friend Dave Taylor. There's no other person in this day and age who can match me move for move like he can and he holds no quarter when we practice.
Matt Striker: We haven't seen Dave Taylor in years, he looks like he can go with the best of them, is helping you train giving him idea's about coming back?
Regal: I would be as pleased as anyone to see Dave Taylor compete in the US again but I think he's in a happy place at the moment. He helps the new generation in the UK train and has the occasional match, he's with his family and seems happy enough not having a punishing schedule.
Matt Striker: Do you think the amount of training your doing and the aches and pains it brings will help you in your upcoming match against a legend of the business, The "Sultan of Sleaze" Alex Shelly?
Regal: Yes, If I don't plan my training right or push it too hard then there is always the risk it will effect my performance. My performance can be nothing but spot on in the match against Mr Shelly if I'm to get a win. Lets not forget, he himself has his own issues to deal with and with the lack of information about his terrible shoulder injury, that kept him out for 2 years, we have no idea if he's perfectly fit and able or if he's fighting through the pain. I intent to work on that shoulder, put it and him to the test, is he ready to come back and challenge for titles or is he only back because he misses the fame and adulation of the fans, that special feeling when you win a match, that can keep some people in the ring that really shouldn't be there. I don't have the superb CV of Shelly or the athleticism but what I do have in an arsenal of holds, reversals and punishing locks to apply to whatever part of the body I choose. It's not a question of if I'll be able to apply a hold or two to his shoulder, it's a question of if he can withstand the pain long enough to defeat me. Only he knows if he's fit and able enough to stand it or not, this could be the last time we see Shelly in a match, so make them most of it boys and girls.
After his statement Regal heads out of the gym with the viewers and Alex Shelly under no illusion of what he plans to do this week at the War Zone.
Matt Striker: Well there you have it ladies and gentlemmm....
Matt Striker gets cut off from Dave Taylor who appears next to him.
Dave Taylor: Shelly better beware this week, I've known Regal well since 1985, toured Germany, Italy, Japan, South Africa and various other places worldwide with him and I've never known him be so focused. He smells blood, smells weakness in Shelly that he'll latch onto like a dog and will not let go. I ask you Shelly, are you prepared for the pain you'll suffer, the stretching your shoulder will face at the hands of Regal?
Dave Taylor eyes the camera, lets out a small laugh then walks out of the gym.
Matt Striker: That was "Sir" William Regal and Dave Taylor with a few words for "The Sultan of Sleaze". I've been Matt Striker see you next time.
|posts in thread|
Apr 14, 13 at 3:00pm ^re: Total Championship Wrestling: Roleplay Thread II
1 x TCW Television Champion
Finisher: Apocalypse Rising (Double Arm Underhook DDT)
The Following Roleplay Takes Place Immediately After The Tv Title Match At King Of The Ring-
The crowd are on their feet. They just witnessed a classic encounter between two awesome competitors with Damien Sandow coming out on top over Drew McIntyre and claiming the TCW Television Title. The camera is focused upon Damien Sandow who is parading around the ring, his new prize lofted high above his head, beaming with pride. The loser of the match was still lying on the canvass. Neck throbbing from where it collided with the floor. The camera cuts to the announce table and then to a backstage segment with Alex Shelly
The cameras stop rolling as the crowd turn and watch the interview with Shelly. No one notices McIntyre rolling out the ring and drops onto the cold protective mat on the outside. He looked to the sky as if seeking guidance. But there was nothing. Gingerly getting to his feet, clutching his neck he slowly begins to walk up the steel ramp towards the locker room. A few of the fans were pointing and laughing at the former champion giving him abuse and slating him for his loss. Keeping his head down and clutching his neck McIntyre couldn't even bare to look them in their faces. He had no anger towards them. No smirking as if he was better than them. All he felt was alone and empty inside. Abandoned by faith. As McIntyre pushed through the black curtain he slumped down into a corner. He sat there for several minutes wondering what went wrong. Had he been so consumed by The Darkness that he was blinded by his own propaganda. Was it simply just an off night? Or was it something more serious for him, Was he alone?
Sitting on the cold concrete floor Drew began reflecting upon the match. He just lost to a man who already had a gruelling battle royal match. That same man kicked out of his Apocalypse Rising finisher. He knew deep down in his heart, Sandow beat him fair and square. Pulling himself up using anything within arms length McIntyre struggled to his feet. He had never felt pain like this. Not the physical pain, he endured that everyday, but the pain in the pit of his stomach. The mental pain of losing when HE was supposed to win. Rubbing his neck, which had now went numb, McIntyre pushed his way through the busy corridor taking no time to move out the way of other talent. The pain from his neck had traveled to his head and the pain was white hot and unbearable. Eventually he crashed through his locker room floor and threw himself down on the floor.
Two hours past before McIntyre resurfaced. He pulled himself from the floor to an upright position. The room was in darkness. The hot pain had left his head and had been replaced with rage and hate. Hate for a cracked up junkie called Damien Sandow. A man with a darkened pure evil soul of McIntyre's calibre should not be getting beat by some wannabe shrink with a smack addiction. It didn't add up. McIntyre knew he had some soul searching to do. He had to get away. He packed his bag and called a taxi to the airport where he would find a hotel to stay in till he got a flight. He was going home.......
The rain fell hard and fast on his face as McIntyre walked out of Glasgow Airport. After a flight which seemed to take forever he was finally home in Scotland. No matter where he traveled with TCW the longest trip always seemed to be that trip home. Two days had past since The King Of The Ring and McIntyre was still fuming. He had considered many times slapping the shit out a fat guy on the plane who was crunching his crisps to loud but he refrained. Everything must be kept for Sandow. That is why he returned to Scotland. To refocus. To reconnect with himself. To prepare. With his rematch scheduled for the next Warzone McIntyre knew he would have to be both physically and mentally ready for the enigma that was Damien Sandow. As McIntyre flagged down a taxi and muttered some destination all that was on his mind was his last match. How it had ended, him lying on the canvass. His neck throbbing in pain. Unable to kick out from the terminus. How Sandow put his hands on HIS Television Title and hoisted it up in the air in celebration. The thought of that junkies grubby little hands on his belt made him sick to his stomach.
Drew McIntyre: Pull over here driver.....
As the car came to a stop McIntyre tossed some money at the old driver and stepped out the car and grabbed his rucksack from the backseat. The rain was alot heavier and a gusty wind was blowing the nearby trees so much that it looked like they may collapse at anytime. Undeterred McIntyre began to walk towards the trees and the wooded area they guarded. McIntyre knew the road well as it was the one he used to walk going home from school. The same path he walked the night he was attacked and left for dead, the night The Darkness had saved him. That was over ten years ago now, but McIntyre knew to understand his defeat he must revisit the source of where his journey began. As he reached the spot of where he was jumped Drew sat on a large rock and thought about his attack. The pain he suffered. The fear of death. As the relentless rain continued its assault on his bearded face he also thought of the pain and punishment he had been inflicting on people. El Generico, Mr Kennedy, Daniel Bryan to name a few. He wondered if they too had been affraid. Scared for the lives, their souls. He pictured them crying after he had destroyed them. Shattered their bodies and left their lives in pieces.
Drew McIntyre: Everything iv done, was it worth it? Worth having evil in my veins to punish the world for the mistakes of 3 kids in my past?
Standing up from the rock, soaking from head to toe Drew made his way through the thick trails of mud and fallen leaves to the park where he had gotten his revenge by using a brick and where two other boys lost their lives. Straining to keep his eyes open as the rain lashed down, he came through a clearing and made his way toward the swings. As he gripped the cold steel chain and once more sat down he thought once more about that night. How he heard the whispering from the woods. How the boys stopped in the road as they were knocked down. That voice had promised to be with him forever. To aid and guide him. Drew shut his eyes and could still see himself holding that brick. How he caved another persons skull in with it. How the blood poured and the feeling it sent through his body.
Drew McIntyre: It began here, so it's only right it ends here. My loss to Sandow was a wake up call. I can't keep going on living my life like this.
Gripping the chain of the swings harder till he could no longer feel where his hands ended and chain began, more visions of victims flashed through Drew's mind, he closed his eyes and looked to the sky as the cold rain battered down on his face. He felt at peace. He felt that everything in his life had been building up to show him to forgive those three boys who savagely beat him. After all, they made him who he was and what he was about to become. He repeated his question once more
Drew McIntyre: Everything iv done, was it worth it? Worth having evil in my veins to punish the world for the mistakes of 3 kids in my past? [A smirk crossed the lips of the former Television champion and his eyes lit up] YOU BET YOUR ARSE IT WAS WORTH IT! The only thing is I didn't push hard enough. I showed compassion and mercy at points in my life I shouldn't. Sandow, you get high off drugs like cocaine. My drug is hurting people. My drug is pain! I'm coming to claim back what is mine. Your time is up....
Walking over and perching on the near by roundabout, throwing his head back McIntyre laughs hysterically as thunder rumbles through the park. Visions of the people McIntyre had hurt over the years raced through his mind. The way body's had been twisted and mangled by his hand. A sick deranged smile crosses the Scotsman's face as the rain bounces off the cars on the road next to the park setting off one alarm. A dog barks somewhere in the distance but all that can be heard right now is the sounds of McIntyre's maniacal laugh. He had returned....
|posts in thread|
|Smell The Chiken||
Apr 14, 13 at 9:15pm ^re: Total Championship Wrestling: Roleplay Thread II
Jayson Anthony Paul
Finshers: Black Panther (fall forward diving facebuster) | Renegade Neckbreak (spinning sitout sleeper slam)
The Las Vegas crowd is excited yet indignant after seeing heel after heel after heel coming out to address the crowd or talk with an interviewer, then insult them or put up a false front. To boast of how great they are and how nobody in the world deserves to be in the same room as them. Such a phony way to act. Waiting for the next punch, the next man to confront them only to brag, they are treated with a hip-hop song that, while many do not recognize, is almost universally well-received. From behind the curtain comes one of the wrestlers who made their TCW debut last Sunday. JTG. But what could he be carrying with him? It appears to be just a wooden box. Whatever the reason for it, JTG throws it over the top rope and into the ring, then slides in himself. He turns the box upside down and steps onto it to begin his segment.
"It's a soapbox. What I am standing on is a soapbox. In the early decades of the 20th century, men used to stand on soapboxes when they had an important message to tell others. Therefore, you are all probably wondering the same thing. What kind of information does this man have to offer? The first of my proclamations regards my appellation. For years now I have been referred to as JTG.”
Although his select fans cheer at this moniker, the wrestler grimaces with the pronunciation of each letter. He takes off his sunglasses in order to let the crowd know the seriousness of his words.
“JTG. 'Jayson the Gangsta'. They probably list it with an 'a' to make it 'tha' instead of 'the'.”
The superstar in the ring turns ninety degrees to the left to speak to a different section of the audience as many of those seated check the show's program and find that, indeed, they list JTG's initials as 'Jayson tha Gangsta'.
“That name, given to me by corporate execs, to make me out as a hoodlum, to sell to an urban audience that they obviously do not understand. They wanted to give me the image of a thug in order for me to be the role model of young, black wrestling fans. The fact that I must be a degenerate sickens me. My name, my birth name my mother gave to me in the hospital when I was born, is Jayson Anthony Paul, and anything else I will not answer to. For future reference, to all those back behind the curtain, the interviewers and trainers, my fellow wrestlers and you executive suits, if you call me JTG, I will not hesitate to punch you right in the eye. To all my fans, whom I consider my brothers and my sisters, and even to those who despise me, please just call me Jayson Anthony Paul. I would greatly appreciate it.
Now, just simply telling you what I would like to be called does not warrant an address like this. I would like to inform you all of my mission statement, my reason for becoming a more active part of TCW. I have seen as I know we all have seen, even though some would like to omit it, that the state of wrestling, not just this company, is rather disreputable. It is a world in which one's name means more than one's upbringing. Where size means more than talent. Where marketability overrides factors such as respectability. Too many men and women are forced to remain backstage as extras while those the higher-ups prefer (for whatever reason) get to appear in front of the audience. I would know being one of those extras for most of my career. I have been the witness of too many people who could have been great had they been given the chance to perform in front of a live crowd once a week. Likewise, I have seen too many people who have been given that honor from day one that, in all honesty, were not that great. Now I am not here to name names and give a shoot interview. The reason I am here tonight, standing on this soapbox, is to tell you that I will change that. As a boy I was told that the best of men lead by example. I will be the one who changes the industry, not by outside means, but by simply being different and forcing others to notice. I will compete in TCW to the best of my abilities, and then some. I will be the force that will turn heads and show what people who come from rough backgrounds, who do not have famous fathers, who were not trained wrestling legends, deserve at least one chance. If in all of that, I achieve no personal titles, no fame, if I sell no t-shirts, as long as a few wrestlers are given that opportunity that they would have otherwise been denied, then I will be content. If I become so big that it affects other industries, if it gives people like yourselves opportunities to show what you can do, then I will be the happiest man in the world. That, my brothers and my sisters, is my mission statement.”
The men, women, and children in the crowd voice their approval of Jayson Anthony Paul's goal as a TCW wrestler. This warm response causes Paul to pop a smile, like one of the false grins he used to sport as part of his gangster persona, though this one was real. Turning ninety degrees to his left again and putting back on his sunglasses, he speaks to the final section of the arena.
“Normally now would be the time to talk about my opponent for the night. Most men do this when they have nothing to really say, but I will do it to explain my philosophy regarding my opponents in the ring. For the most part, I respect each men that enters this squared circle. I do not necessarily like all of them, but I do respect them. Batista, my opponent for tonight, is no exception. He has wrestled for years now and is a true veteran. Some wrestlers would take a shot at his age right now, but I shall not. He is older than me, but I translate that as having more experience. One thing that I do not agree with is that Batista has been a main eventer, an A-list wrestler if you will, throughout most of his career. While at times he was deserving of this, other times he was just kept at the top for too long, leaving very talented wrestlers stuck in a place known as midcard hell. Could any of them been in a Pay-Per-View main event and compete for the world title, of course. But, Batista had to be on top, be it because he refused to step down or those corporate suits refused for anyone to take his place. Another thing that I disagree with that I can completely blame Batista for is his decision to leave wrestling. He deserted all his fans, all those who paid money to watch him perform, all those who bought his merchandise, and all those who looked up to him, despite everything else, as a hardworking individual. It was his choice to let down so many people, and I cannot grant him any sympathy for that. Tonight, I will defeat Batista, not because of my anger for him, but because of my passion to show those pompous suits that I am every they once saw in him. I will beat him tonight if it will convince those self-important bookers and executives in charge of this company that I am deserving of everything that Batista once had, and that so many others like me are as well. My brothers and my sisters, I thank you for listening to my declaration, especially you watching at home when you could have gotten up for a beer or changed the channel, and I bid you farewell. I hope that the next time I see you is after a victory against the corporate greed that runs this business.”
Jayson Anthony Paul gently hands his microphone over to a TCW who has been used to having them thrown in his face or picking them up after being thrown to the ground. He grabs his soapbox and slides it under the ropes as he leaves the ring. Fans cheer for him and his new change in character. He has gone from a friendly hood meant to sell merchandise to a genre-savvy radical with an industry-changing message. But, most of them ponder, could he deliver on these promises? Would he fall victim to the corruption he preaches against? Would his goals be too much to achieve? Only time would tell, but they sure hope not.
|posts in thread|
Apr 15, 13 at 1:22am ^re: Total Championship Wrestling: Roleplay Thread II
Record - 0/0/0
Finisher's: Ankle Lock, Brainbuster.
The skies are dark, patchy grey clouds loom above as rain pours out of the sky, trickling down the sewers, lashing the city streets as civilisation runs for cover, the cameras pan inside the gym, where a hooded figure is relentlessly kicking away at a heavy punch bag, the thuds echo and fill the room with each kick, harder than the last, then as the figure stops, silence...he slowly pulls his hood down, not even out of breath yet, and turns to the camera, sweat dripping off his forehead.
Kyle O'Reilly: Welcome, to my safe haven, and for those of you that are a little lost, maybe just a little confused, allow me to introduce myself, I am your newest addiction, I am Kyle O'Reilly.
Kyle pauses for a moment as he walks over to the wrestling ring in the gym, sitting on the apron he picks up a bottle of water beside him and takes a sip before placing it beside him.
Kyle O'Reilly: And make no mistake, this is no cliché, I'm not going to be like the thousands of guys before me who say their going to be the next world champion, the next big thing, the new face of wrestling, and they never back it up, they leave the crowd dull, and bored, their name is forgotten within a week, and then it's time for the next one to step up, and for the same thing to happen over, and over again.
But let me make this clear, I am not one of those who will be forgotten, my name will be engraved on that squared circle, and I wont leave any secrets, I will not stop in that ring, no matter how far my opponent may be willing to go, I will always go further, I will sacrifice it all, and I will never, ever hold back.
Kyle jumps up off the apron and walks over to the punch bag, and throws a spin kick at it, sending it swaying erratically back and fourth.
Kyle O'Reilly: See, it doesn't matter, no matter how big a guy is, how strong he is, I'm disciplined, I am a fighting machine, kickboxing, jiu-jitsu, all add more to me than just being a wrestler, I'm a fighter, and I will always fight to win, and I will never back down, because to me, it doesn't matter, a win, is a win. Doesn't matter to me if I have to knock you out, or make you tap out, one way or another, the story will stay the same, with Kyle O'Reilly yet again victorious.
Kyle throws some more kicks and punches at the bag, filling the room with loud thuds with each strike.
Kyle O'Reilly: I am coming to TCW, and I have a saying that I've already used once, but just so everyone gets the message, knock out, or tap out, either way, I advise the TCW roster to invest in some new dental care, because I will not give you another warning, next time, it'll be whoever's in my way picking their teeth up off the mat.
Kyle spins round and kicks the cameraman, sending the camera to the floor, cracking the lens in the process, he pulls the cameraman in front of the camera and crouches down, smirking as he holds a mouth guard to the camera.
Kyle O'Reilly: Guess this one's going to tap out.
Kyle smirks as he puts the mouth guard in and pulls the camera man to his knees, the cameraman begs Kyle to not hurt him but Kyle quickly applies an ankle lock, causing the man to scream out in pain as he begs him to stop, thunderously tapping the mat begging Kyle to let go, eventually Kyle lets go and picks the camera up with a smirk as he pulls out his mouth guard.
Kyle O'Reilly: That, was just a taste of what's to come, TCW, tap out, or get knocked out.
Kyle drops the camera and is seen walking away as the cameraman writhes in agony from the ankle lock.
|posts in thread|
Apr 15, 13 at 6:37am ^You know I've ran out of ideas when...
0 - 0 - 1
So King of the Ring arrived, happened and passed without as much as a note of credit for one Alberto Del Rio. Plans, obviously, fell astray, and he’s given a less than icy reception by the live audience as the cameras find him sat in the locker rooms in front of his VAIO laptop, kitted in his wrestling gear for tonight’s match no doubt. He was giving it the concentration of a code breaker, with fingers working the keys and mouth moving quietly; apparently obliviously to the audience’s presence. Only when the door opened, and one Ricardo Rodriquez sauntered on screen – much to the chagrin of the crowd – did he lift his eyes from the computer.
Ricardo Rodriquez: “Señor, qué estás hacienda?”
Alberto looked at him with the same interest as he had the computer screen. Then reached up and pulled Ricardo down by his sleeve until he was on his knees beside him in front of the computer.
Alberto Del Rio: “Quiet Ricardo, and watch this. This was that, thing, we heard about last week; the American moza.”
Ricardo looked at his master, the man he held in as of yet in exhaustible adulation, to the computer. Almost immediately he shrieked in horror and pulled out a small palm sized crucifix from under shirt, kissed it, and started blessing himself.
Ricardo Rodriquez: “Dios mío! Que es eso!?!”
At first Alberto didn’t answer. He leaned closer to the computer, as if studying it in greater detail, and then all of a sudden recoiled with the same disgust as Ricardo had done. His wiped his hands down his face as if trying to sanitize himself, then grabbed Ricardo by the chain and proceeded to pray himself. All while Ricardo muttered something, frantically, under his breath in Spanish.
Albero Del Rio: “Ricardo, there is something very, very wrong with this country!”
Alberto held up his finger, as if to punctuate the sentence, and released Ricardo. Who fell back on his saggy ass with a whimper as Alberto stormed out of the room, looking as if he were about to be sick. The door slammed and Ricardo, looking helpless and confused, lunged to the table where the laptop rested and slammed it shut. The camera orbits in closer, catching a few pants as Ricardo preciously tucks his crucifix away, but not without one last kiss and prayer, and finally relaxes. With one final, snivelling, sigh he looked back at the laptop and shook his head.
Ricardo Rodriquez: “Giovanna Plowman, dios mío...”
Well, that’s disgusting – a sentiment the entire live audience crowd seemed to agree with – and with that bomb shell the TCW camera faded off to the next piece of action for the night.
|posts in thread|
Apr 15, 13 at 8:51am ^re: Total Championship Wrestling: Roleplay Thread II
- - - - -
The cameras are backstage at TCW WarZone, where Josh Matthews is standing by with CM Punk ready to get an interview started. It’s clear from the scowl on Punk’s face that he isn’t exactly in the best of moods, which is understandable given how things went for him at the pay-pew-view. His plans of leaving the arena as TCW Television champion didn’t quite come off for him, thanks to a timely uppercut from Damien Sandow. Ever the professional though Punk has shown up for tonight’s event, with everything that happened in the pay-per-view put behind him and just one thing on his mind; Redemption. The fans still seem to be behind Punk, as the chanting of his name prior to the start of the interview would indicate. Finally everybody settles, and the interview beings.
Punk glares at Matthews, the reminder of how he didn’t come through on his guarantee wasn’t something that he needed right now. There was pat of what Josh said that seemed to amuse Punk though, as he lets out a brief laugh.
The fans no longer to be on Punk’s side as they begin to boo him, but it only seems lift Punk’s spirits as a smirk creeps across his face. Josh calmly waits for the crowd to die down again, before continuing.
The smirk is quickly gone from the fact of the straight edge superstar who has gone back to staring Matthews down. The fans seemed a little more on board with Matthews’ comments though, as a rare ‘Sandow’ chant breaks out before Punk can respond.
Once again the fans start booing Punk, who appears to have found his old level of intensity and ruthlessness that kept people on edge around him. Something that Josh Matthews definitely is, as he moves away from Punk a little before asking his next question.
Punk again laughs briefly, before weighing up the challenge Cody poses in his mind and responding.
Punk doesn’t even wait for Matthews’ to wrap up the interview, as he pushes him aside and storms off. The cameras fade on a startled looking Matthews’, before returning to ringside.
|posts in thread|
Apr 16, 13 at 12:23pm ^re: Total Championship Wrestling: Roleplay Thread II
The Sultan of $leaze; Alex Shelley
- - - - - -
The arena sits at a standstill as the capacity audience in attendance look on in anticipation, awaiting the next appearence of what is already an incredibly exciting night. Many superstars have come and gone tonight and the audience are extremely pleased with the calibre of person who has performed before them tonight. The noise is progressively getting louder and louder as they await what could possibly be next. Their questions are all eventually answered when a voice suddenly erupts from within the soundsystem, although it's not a song they're familiar with...
The audience erupt with cheers as the name on the titan-tron becomes clear, and they're about to be blessed with the presence of Wrestling Royalty... The Sultan of Sleaze. The lights begin to flash with bursts of purple, pink and gold, as the stage explodes with a sea of dry ice and smoke. Electro music begins to fill the arena as the lights continue to flash, until eventually the man himself steps out from behind the staging, looking out at the audience with delight as they scream with joy at his appearence. After a few moments he quickly dashes back towards the backstage area, before returning a couple of moments later with not one, but both of the Bella Twins beside him, one on each arm. He smirks as he looks around him at the staging which even he appears to think is a little bit elaborate, but begins to walk down the ramp as the audience chant his name. He slides into the ring beneath the bottom rope, holding his RayBan shades onto his face as he does so, before holding the ropes apart and allowing his two escorts to step into the ring. He stands in the centre of the ring, before dropping onto his knees and holding both arms out as wide as he can, which causes cannonsworth of gold and purple ticker-tape to blast out from within the turnbuckles. The audience continue to chant his name as some of the younger fans scramble around on the ground to get some ticker-tape to take home with them, as Shelley walks across to the ring announcer and takes the microphone from him. He stands in the middle of the ring as his music slowly fades out and the lighting returns to normal, and looks around at the fans before slowly raising the microphone to his mouth.
Shelley lowers the microphone before strolling around the ring, exchanging a few words with the Bella twins as he does so. He looks out at the audience who once again begin to chant his name, and he raises his hand so as to stop them. They duly oblige, wanting to hear more from the Sultan, and he once again raises the microphone to his mouth.
Out of nowhere, the opening riffs of ‘Cult of Personality’ begin resonating around the arena, and the instinctive reaction of the fans in attendance is to boo wildly, whether or not they have a problem with CM Punk at this moment is completely irrelevant, Jesus Christ himself could have interrupted Alex Shelley and he’d be booed. Slowly, the self proclaimed ‘Best in the World’ steps out from behind the staging, and looks out at the audience with a stern look on his face. His eyebrow crinkles as he glares down towards the ring at Alex Shelley, before he pulls the zip on his ‘GTS’ hoody up a little bit tighter, and sets off towards the ring. He looks from side to side in disdain, clearly not impressed with the lack of respect shown to him by the patrons of tonight’s show, and eventually he reaches the ring, looking inside for a few moments before making his way into the squared-circle via the steel steps. He walks straight across the ring, refusing to make eye contact with Shelley, before snatching a microphone from a stagehand who offers it to him from ringside. He turns back around and this time glares directly into the eyes of Shelley from a few meters away, before turning his glance to the Bella twins and shaking his head dismissively. He once again looks at Shelley, before lifting the microphone slowly up to his mouth.
Shelley smirks, looking across at Punk, glaring dead into his eyes as he finishes speaking. As Punk lowers his microphone, Shelley looks out at the audience, taking in the negative reaction that Punk’s words have brought on. He lets out a sigh, shaking his head in disbelief that somebody actually has the audacity to interrupt one of his promos, before lifting the microphone up to his mouth once again with a smirk.
The crowd instantly cheer Shelley’s rebuttal, as Punk just glares at him hardly moving an inch. Shelley lowers the microphone and looks on at Punk, willing him to give some sort of response. The straight edge superstar just stand stoic though, calmly taking his time as he rises the microphone to his mouth and waits for a little bit of quiet before answering back.
Shelley continues to smirk as he looks across at Punk, although the Bellas look suitably insulted by the words spoken towards them. The Sultan lifts his hand up towards them, insisting they quieten down and don’t make the situation any worse, before he once again raises the microphone to his mouth. He pauses for a few seconds, before lowering it and looking Punk up and down, shaking his head in faux disappointment as he looks towards his face once more. Again, he lifts the microphone up, this time speaking quickly.
This time it’s Punk smirking at Alex, as the crowd again erupt at the end of his sentence. Shelley’s hard hitting speech doesn’t seem to have phased Punk even slightly though, as he still stands as calm as ever taking his time to give some form of reply.
Shelley smirks at Punk, who looks right back at him, clearly expecting some kind of response, and Shelley slowly lifts the microphone up to his mouth, before opening his mouth to speak. After a few moments however, he closes his mouth, and drops the microphone on the floor, before simply raising his hand towards Punk and flipping him the bird! Punk’s eyes widen in disgust at the lack of respect, and Shelley simply smirks at the offence he’s clearly caused him, before his music hits the arena soundsystem and he backs away from ‘The Best in the World’. Still grinning, he drops down to his knees and slides out of the ring to the sound of fans chanting his name, leaving Punk stood in the ring, disgusted at what has just been done to him.
|posts in thread|
Apr 16, 13 at 2:16pm ^re: Total Championship Wrestling: Roleplay Thread II
Damien Sandow with Percy 'Dr Watson' Watson
TCW Television Champion
The Addiction in the High-Fyler (and it isn't altitude)
I couldn't help but stare in amazement as he towel dried his long mane of hair. He did it. He actually did. Sandow is now the TCW Television Champion. I glanced for the umpteenth time at the glistening gold title that lay atop his duffel bag, which while it still read 'Drew McIntyre' due to the recentness with which it changed ownership, it was his. Ours. He'd proved the doubters, me included, wrong. It was by no means an underdog story and wouldn't be remembered as the David vs Goliath of Professional Wrestling, but Sandow had shown that he could back up his brains with brawn.
"Have you got your notepad, Watson?" he asked, his voice muffled by the towel.
"Wh - " I stopped myself mid inquiry, one of Sandow's rules was I delete the Americanisms he has such a detest for himself that he, in his words 'retrained' himself to a higher etiquette. "Pardon?"
I wasn't quite sure what I needed a notepad for, this was our first time not travelling since King Of The Ring, for Sandow had a 'unfondness' of airplanes, as we stand in the City of Sin, surely there is no better time than to celebrate the immediate success found in TCW?
Before he could even answer, there was a knock on the door. One of the perks of being a title holder is your own personal lockeroom, which was just as well because I can't imagine Sandow being a fellow all too accustomed to the principal of sharing living space with anyone, nevermind 220lb wrestlers.
He glances me a look of misunderstanding as he hastily pulls on a plain black ribbed t-shirt.
"No nootebook?" he asks, but then shrugs his shoulders. "No bother really, I just thought it would have been nice for you to feel like you were helping. Come in!"
Helping what? I tried to work out exactly what he meant, something that was happening more and more often as I spent more time with
The situation becomes even more confusing as rather than Josh Matthews or Matt Striker, which would have been perfectly understood, it was Jeff Hardy who sauntered in the lockeroom door.
Jeff looks around the place as Sandow ushers him to a seat, a metal fold up chair, and places one opposite him and places himself upon it.
And now everything makes sense.
A therapy session.
Jeff looks around the lockeroom, and Sandow simply observes, as always, for a few moments, before breaking the silence.
Jeff looks at Sandow and answers immediately, "No thanks, man."
Jeff is not dressed in his usual wrestling attire, but in a Carolina Panthers zip up jacket. Damien nods his head but never breaks eye contact with Jeff.
"How are you feeling, Jeff?"
"Good, man, good," he responded, just as before, this time with a sniff, his throat a little deeper than usual, clearly suffering from some sort of cold.
Damien nodded again.
"And, remind me, you're here because of your cocaine addiction, yes?"
"Yeah. Well, no, I mean, it was an addiction. But I'm clean now. Have been for a month. "
"Ah, I see...and how has that been?"
"Way easier than I thought, man," Jeff answered with a cough.
I studied him myself for a moment, trying to work out things the way Sandow does, as their conversation went on. He asked him another few questions but I was too busy concentration to every word. I could hear the tick tock of the clock behind me as time passed.
Nothing. His hair was brown rather than multicoloured, but that was the only damn thing I noticed.
"Hey, how about that coffee, man?"
It took me a few moments to realise Jeff was talking to me, not Sandow, and I rose from my seat, despite having no idea we had a coffee pot. The perks of the title, I reminded myself.
"Don't bother, Watson," Sandow said, motioning with his hand for me to take a seat again.
Jeff looked at him with confusion, as did I, except I was aware what was coming. Sandow took a deep breath, as he always does before explaining a deduction.
"I said cocaine addiction, Jeff, because that's what you have. First of all, Jeff, you are rather dressed down for a man who worked for a dozen years in the wrestling business. Of course, that could just be for comfort reasons, but that it is not what a man who has just kicked an addiction dresses like. No, he feels an air of invincibility, of being new and fresh and clean, they do not dress in slacks like you have but rather in something fresh, new and well fitting, you dress like a man who has spent a lot of his money on cocaine. Of course, that could put down to years of addiction which you claimed to have kicked. But you do not wear your usual sleeveless attire, because cocaine erodes muscle and fat, and as such you have covered yourself head to prevent me, or anyone, from seeing your scrawny, nutrition devoid arms. You have also sniffed and coughed throughout the duration of our session together, which of course you could put down to a common cold but I'm aware you currently reside in this very state of Las Vegas and it is mid-April, it is incredibly unlikely you have a cold but rather the drip commonly associated with substance sniffing."
Jeff is speechless but Sandow, as ever, is not, and simply takes a breath before continuing.
"You also rejected a caffeine in a coffee, something someone who has just defeated a cocaine habit would never do, rather they would crave the buzz that their life is lacking. But if you are addicted to cocaine why would you not want the offered buzz of coffee? Simple - you're high right now, and while you are an incredibly foolish man you were aware that drinking coffee while suffering the heart palpations you are currenltly feeling was indeed a fatal move. But just under thirty minutes later, the average length of a cocaine trip before needing 'topped up', you asked for coffee and caffeine, because the buzz had worn off and you needed more. Bearing in mind the distance from my lockeroom to the exit, the business of the carpark, I imagine you took some moments before you left your hotel room or slum or whatever you live. But don't worry, Jeff, you are a waste of my time and can now leave and be back in your home in about fifteen minutes. I suggest you call a cab as on your comedown you really aren't fit to drive."
A humbled and speechless Jeff Hardy stood up, slack jawed at the power of the deduction, which I still do myself occasionally but after two weeks together you get used to it, and left the lockeroom door.
I began to wonder if Sandow had missed the point about the hair dye, or if I was simply wrong - but I did not mention it for fear of it being the latter, and kept my mouth shut.
|posts in thread|
Apr 16, 13 at 2:24pm ^re: Total Championship Wrestling: Roleplay Thread II
Ric Flair’s door stood alone in the view of the camera. The light above it was merely flickering, and it showed just how desolate the area around the ex-Interim General Manager’s room was. Of course, the emptiness in the hall was courtesy of Cody Rhodes. Ric Flair’s reign was over, and there wasn’t a thing anyone in the world could do about it. TCW interviewer, Maria Kanellis, enters into the shot, a big cardboard box in hand, as she pulled open the door. She had volunteered to clean out his things. He didn’t need to step backstage and risk Rhodes doing something heinous…
She shuts the door behind her, and gasps. In front of her, is a cameraman, the light on his camera distracting her eyes for a brief second, while a second figure in the room shoots across and grabs her by the wrist, pulling her away from the door, before shoving a chair hard underneath the handle to prevent anyone from entering…
The camera comes into focus on Maria, as she finally grasps the situation in the room. If front of her stands Cody Rhodes, blocking her way to the door. He has a sinister smile on his face – Maria, a look of sheer terror on hers.
Cody Rhodes chuckles, and takes a step closer. He isn’t coming off as intimidating, as we had seen him the week before when he attacked Lillian Garcia and put Flair out of the business, but instead as an alluring Casanova. He places the back of his hand on Maria’s face, and seems to admire her beautiful complexion and running her hair out of her face.
His voice was thick with an attempt at sounding suave, and he was damn good at that. But in the context of the situation, with him standing before a horrified Maria after just having assaulted the ring announcer a week prior, and being locked in this room alone with him, came off as utterly horrifying. Many feared for Maria’s safety at the moment, but there was no way she could be helped. Rhodes spoke again, taking her silence for what it was.
She shifts her weight between her feet and looks to the door. There’s no escape, and absolutely no reason to piss Rhodes off. She must have shown some sort of adherence, as Rhodes smiled at her and pulled a microphone from behind his back to hand to her. The interview would begin now, it would seem.
Cody Rhodes: “NO! When did it become proper not to introduce your interviewee Maria? Do you think I deserve to go unannounced Maria?”
He’s mumbles under his breath what sounds like a dastardly insult at Maria, and waits until she continues. She puts a false smile on her face, one that is easily noted as being phony, and looks into the camera.
Suddenly, his hand flew across her mouth, stopping her flow of words. He is squeezing her cheeks together and tears spring to her eyes. He pulls her close in to his face, eyes staring into hers, as he pulls her hand with the microphone to his own face. His eyes are intense with something that looks an awful lot like complete hatred.
He doesn’t let off on exactly what this threat entails, but when he lets go of her cheeks, she straightens up right away, and pulls the microphone back to her mouth. She’s fighting back tears, as she attempts to deliver the first bit of her introduction for the third time.
Maria’s head drooped as she thought, again, about the severity of what Rhodes had done the night before. In a single night, he had changed the makeup of the entire business.
Cody Rhodes’ brow furrowed as he looked into the microphone that Maria was holding in front of his face.
Rhodes paused simply to breathe. He took a few deep breaths, and when Maria went to pull the microphone back, he grabbed her wrist hard, causing her to drop the microphone. Useless bitch. He put her hand up to her face and shoved her backwards into the wall! She slid down the wall, seemingly knocked unconscious by the force she had been pushed with. Just as the camera man went towards her, Rhodes stepped in front of her body.
CM Punk, in this business, you live climb through your actions. Every single person I came up against, I’ve put out of this business. Alex Riley and Ric Flair, for example. Come to think of it, Heath Slater. I defeated that ugly red head, and he’s went and quit the business. I slaughtered William Regal, and look where he is now. He’s in the purgatory of the wrestling business. Wade Barrett, the only man to ever beat me, realized that he wasn’t cut out for this business, even after defeating me. And, Punk, that’s what’s going to happen to you. You win or lose, and you’re still going to realize that your time, and the time of everyone like you, is over. The evolution of the wrestling business has led directly to me, and your time is over. The time of men climbing to the top with rungs made from their words is over. I climb to the top over the bodies of the men I destroy. And you’re simply the next step, Punk.”
Cody Rhodes dropped the microphone, and stepped over Maria’s body to pull the chair from under the door. He left, without taking so much of a glance back.
|posts in thread|
Apr 16, 13 at 3:41pm ^re: Total Championship Wrestling: Roleplay Thread II
1 x TCW Television Champion
Finisher: Apocalypse Rising (Double Arm Underhook DDT)
The scene opens in a medium sized room. The wallpaper is a disgusting brown color with rips in several areas. There are rusty steel barrels stacked up high in the left corner and old rotten wooden pallets carelessly strewed across the room. In the centre of the room a sits a man cross legged, shirtless with black jeans on, however his face concealed by a black executioner style mask. Only the eyes of the person are visible. The masked figure sits rocking back and forth as if to song no one else can hear. There is a knock on the door of the room and in steps Josh Mathews, clearly reluctant and scared of the scene that's greeted him. Shuffling round, hands firmly on the wall, Josh clears his throat nervously before asking his first question.
Josh Mathews: Em, hello? I'm looking for Drew McIntyre?
The masked man didn't responded or even look up. He sat and continued as if he had not heard the question.
Josh Mathews: Hey, look I'm not wanting to bother you. Just looking for an interview with the former Television Champion. No one has saw him since he lost to Sandow, hoping to get an exclusive from him. If you can't help me then.....
He was cut short from finishing his sentence as the masked man stopped rocking. He sat still for a moment before raising his head to look Josh in the face. As fear set in and the color drained from the interviewers face, he realised he had overstayed his welcome and said too much. Backing slowly away towards the door, Josh had every intention of making a run for safety but he stopped when he heard a familiar hoarse raspy voice.
Drew McIntyre: Why do you seek to find me Josh? Do you not think I would be more pissed off than usual after last week? Do you not think seeking me out would be a hazard for you health?
McIntyre stood up from his cross legged position slowly. Josh immediately felt a new powerful energy in the room radiating from McIntyre as The Sinister Scotsman took a few steps toward him, His muscular frame towering over him. A cold shiver ran through Josh's spine as he tried to back away but stumbled and fell over. Sliding along using his hands on the floor he backed himself against a rough, jagged wall.
Drew McIntyre: The mask I wear is symbolic. It's dark in here Josh and you know how iv got a thing for darkness. [McIntyre snorts out a short laugh before quickly grabbing Josh's face with two hands] The reason you haven't saw me is because I went home to reflect upon my standing in TCW and in my life in general, I realised I was too soft at times, lacked a certain killer instinct if you will, but I revisited certain places in my past and iv been reborn. Reborn with more hate in my blood. Reborn with more blackness in my heart and fire in my belly. I'm here to unleash the gates of hell upon every single individual in this company. I beg someone to try and stop me.
As he let go of Josh's face he felt something wet on his hand. He looked to Josh's eyes and saw tears of fear streaming down his face. McIntyre was utterly disgusted with the pathetic man infront of him.
Drew McIntyre: You make me sick! You stand here a grown man crying! You disgrace my skin with your tears of weakness! The tears will continue to flow for you and every wrestler on the roster here. One by one I will pick you off like bugs. Anytime I want, anywhere I want. I am above every single last one of you. I am your judge, jury and executioner. No one will be spared. There will be no mercy granted. Only carnage, destruction, pain and chaos. There will be no survivors. Only lost souls left to wander the planet. Flesh will rot and the world will burn. Amidst the smoke, flames and devastation I will stand. A new leader of the world. A God to walk amongst men. My new world, will be born!
Grabbing Josh by his shirt collar McIntyre launched him six feet across the room and josh landed with a crash through one of the wooden pallets. The noise of the crash was sickening, what was worse was the shrill high screams of the TCW interviewer as the wood shattered and pierced the neck, back and legs of Josh. As he lay there, bleeding and crying, McIntyre got down on his knees and removed his black mask. His eyes were bloodshot red and he had several cuts and lacerations over his face. He wiped his hand over the bleeding back of Mathews before rubbing the blood on his own face. Smirking and laughing he walked off leaving one broken body in his wake.
|posts in thread|
|Smell The Chiken||
Apr 16, 13 at 8:04pm ^re: Total Championship Wrestling: Roleplay Thread II
- - - - - - -
Taz: We are just days removed from what many consider the most electrifying Pay-Per-View in the history of TCW!
Booker T: That's right dawg, and tonight you will witness the fallout from King of the Ring. In the main event, Dean Ambrose will face the tournament's loser, Antonio Cesaro, in a non-title match.
Cole: Also coming up, Drew McIntyre will face Damien Sandow in an attempt to win back the Television Championship.
Booker T: But first we have Brock Lesnar in action.
Cole: Brock Lesnar is definitely a man to be feared in TCW.
Taz: In my days as a wrestler, I have never seen a beating after a match that vicious.
Cole: As our TCW medical staff tend to Zack Ryder, we will continue on with our next scheduled match.
We are brought to the Roulette Wheel to decide the stipulation of Daniel Bryan vs. Alberto Del Rio! The lovely female spinning the wheel gives a cute smile, and a spin! Round and round it goes! What will this match become?
It lands on “Bull Rope Match!” The two competitors will have to wrestle the entire match linked together by the wrist!
Bull Rope Match
Daniel Bryan vs. Alberto Del Rio
Bryan and Del Rio allow the referee to attach the rope to their wrist, and the bell rings. Just how will the rope’s attachment to the wrist affect the match? Will it ease either man in for the Cross Arm Breaker or Yes! Lock? Del Rio sends a hard punch towards Bryan, and it’s ducked. Bryan goes to send a punch back in response, but he swings with his roped hand! Del Rio easily avoids this attack by pulling his own wrist down hard, yanking Bryan to the mat! He uses the rope to pull Bryan’s arm directly into the air, and begins stomping away at his exposed arm! With the rope attached, Del Rio has a much easier time getting Bryan’s arm exactly where he wants it, and is stomping away at his shoulder! He drags Bryan across the mat by his arm and gets out of the ring… what’s he doing? He pulls Bryan, who is lying on his back in the ring, towards the metal ring post and… wraps his arm around it, holding it in place by the rope! He wouldn’t! He does! He sends a hard boot into the arm of Daniel Bryan, slamming it into the ringpost! Bryan is rolling around in pain, trying hard to escape from Del Rio, but not making it far at all. Del Rio pulls his arm down over the apron, bending it at a weird angle, and sends a boot hard at Bryan’s exposed arm again! The referee seems to be considering calling the match, but not before Del Rio slides into the ring and locks in the Cross Arm Breaker! Daniel Bryan taps immediately, and Del Rio is declared the winner!
Booker T: While I wouldn't say it was an ass-beating, that was a dominant victory.
Cole: I only hope Del Rio will go on to do greater things after this match.
Booker T: You know, you would.
Backstage, Alex Shelley spins the roulette wheel as William Regal stands by. Slowly the roulette wheel lands on...Bra and Panties Match. Regal and Shelley look at each other with shocked expressions before Regal moves the wheel so it reads Normal Match.
Alex Shelley vs. William Regal
Before the match starts, Shelley offers a handshake to Regal. He seemingly accepts it, but once the bell sounds he uses it to whip Shelley into the corner turnbuckle. Eyeing his opponent, Regal runs in for a corner splash followed by a chop to the chest. Shelley cries out in pain as a red handprint starts to form on his left pectoral muscle. Licking his lips while looking at the opposite corner, Regal grabs Shelley's hand and goes for another Irish whip. But wait! The Sultan of Sleaze is quick to hop onto the top ropes. Regal runs his hands through his hair and goes after his opponent. Alex Shelley sees this also and performs a magnificent backflip to avoid William Regal's attack. The Englishman turns around and is met with a high kick to the face followed with quicker shots to the gut. With his opponent leaning on the ropes for support, Shelley bounces off the opposite side of the ring and comes back to hit a hurricanrana. After following up with a double foot stomp, the Sultan of Sleaze turns to face a crowd chanting his name. He smiles, taking it in, and takes a walk around the ring to gaze at all those in attendance. Shelley starts to pull his opponent to the center of the ring, but Regal starts to fight back by raking the front of Alex Shelley's torso. He falls to his knees as Regal maneuvers behind him to strike a big kick to the back of his skull. Shelley falls facedown on the mat while Regal poses for the crowd, who instantly boo him. Regal glances to the spectators on his left, then his right, questioning to himself why they are against him. Seemingly deciding that the only way to change their minds is to destroy the other man in the ring, Regal lifts Shelley onto his shoulders. He spins around for the crowd before slamming Shelley on his back. Regal also drops a knee onto his opponent's stomach before going for a cover. 1...2.kick! Shelley pops up, vexing Regal greatly. The Englishman whips him into the ropes and prepares himself to hit the suplex. Shelley stops short of his opponent and delivers a kick to the face that can be picked up over the announcers' microphones. After causing his opponent to stumble backwards, Shelley follows up with a dropkick that sends both men down. Alex Shelley runs at the kneeing Regal, but with a shot below the belt the Englishman regains the upper hand. He tosses Shelley into a corner, looks around at the crowd, and comes running in with a big boot...no! Shelley ducks under it and Regal gets his leg caught in the ropes. He grabs Regal from behind and hits a neckbreaker. As his opponent crawls for a few moments before collapsing for a quick rest, Shelley climbs the corner turnbuckle. With the crowd cheering him on, the Sultan of Sleeze hits the Frog Splash! He grabs Regal's leg and pins him. 1...2...3! Alex Shelley wins in his Warzone debut!
Cole: Really, because I was perfectly fine when he was gone for the last two years.
Taz: Close your jaw before I break it.
Booker T: And Warzone will return shortly after this commercial break.
The show returns live on air, with the crowd cheering and waving their hand made signs up in the air for all of the viewers at home to see them. Some people returning from their seats from bathroom breaks and getting food. Soon awhile the crowd begins to quite down a old theme hits over the PA System inside the arena.
"I'M HERE TO SHOW THE WORLD!"
Dolph Zigglers theme song comes over the speakers and the crowd erupts into loud roars and chorus of boos. As they are booing him the camera points at the titantron and out from behind it comes AJ Lee skipping out in shorts and a cut up Dolph Ziggler shirt. As she is skipping around in circles on the stage from behind her comes a man in a black hooded sleeveless jacket with the hoodie up and turns around putting his back towards the crowd and pulls the hood down and turns around slicking his hair back and flicking the left over gel from his blonde hair towards the crowd then kissing AJ on the lips. AJ and Dolph then begin walking down to the ring as the crowd is still booing them. AJ walks up the steel steps and gets into the ring as Ziggler walks then leaps up onto the apron sliding into the ring then climbing the turnbuckle and taunting the crowd as they still boo him and some fans even telling him to "Shut up" and "You suck" Ziggler request a microphone and is handed one.
"Did you miss me?"
Ziggler says into the microphone smiling then laughs with AJ.
The crowd boos and says no.
"Its been awhile since you have seen me on tv since I left the last promotion I was at.But none of the matters here, does it. No this is TCW! The new Wrestling promotion the greatest promotion in Wrestling History never the less. Everyone comes here. we have CM Punk here, Daniel Bryan, Batista even came back to wrestling, hell even The Undertaker is here. And know TCW can add two more names to the list! AJ and Dolph Ziggler! My time is now in TCW! I am not going to be the same Dolph you saw last time in you know where. Out with the old and into the new! TCW will never forget the name! Dolph Ziggler!"
With that Ziggler drops the microphone and grabs AJ by the head and kisses her on the lips as the crowd boos and AJ and Dolph make there way to the back.
Booker T: The kid has talent, but I just don't know about him.
Taz: Well, we should see him in action next week. Right now we have another match.
We are, again, brought backstage to the pretty girl spinning the roulette wheel. The next match to be decided is JTG… er… Jayson Anthony Paul vs. Batista! Both men stand on either side of the wheel. The wheel spins, and when it comes to a stop, it reads “Blindfold Match!” Both men will be blindfolded! Both men grab blindfolds and head to the entrance.
Jayson Anthony Paul vs. Batista
Jayson Anthony Paul stands across from Dave Batista, and both men place the blindfold over their eyes. When the bell rings, both men creep towards each other, feeling for one another. When Batista reaches the opposing corner and realizes Paul wasn’t in it, he slams his hand onto the corner hard. Bad choice. Paul hears the impact, and knows where to go! He jumps on Batista’s back, and starts slamming fists into his skull! Batista reaches upwards and grabs Paul’s neck before spinning him hard onto his back! He drops an elbow on Paul before he can so much as move! He stands up, not letting a hand off of Paul at any point, and lifts him up onto his feet, before swinging a hard clothesline at him! He taunts for a split second, and in that second, he loses place of Paul. Jayson Anthony Paul crawls out of the way, listening and feeling where Batista was in the ring. Being a large man was definitely a disadvantage in a Blindfold Match. He gets to where Batista is and sends a hard punch, and connects to Batista’s skull! Shot after shot, he’s knocking the larger man back! Batista falls back into the corner and Paul follows him, jumping into the corner and sends hard punches down on Batista’s skull! Then he falls back and pulls Batista’s head onto the mat between his knees! He then lifts Batista up… and he hits the Renegade Neckbreak! Wow! The entire crowd explodes at the feat, as Jayson Anthony Paul makes the pin! One-Two-Three!
After the match the cameras cut to ringside where Michael Cole, Booker T and Taz are sat ready to take over.
Cole: Well ladies and gentlemen we’d like to take a second here to talk about a respected member of the wrestling community, Paul Bearer. As most of you know Paul passed away recently, and he was a great friend to us all. As such we’d like to take a moment to remember him now.
Taz: No doubt Cole, he was a great guy a great manager, and he’ll be sorely missed.
Booker T: Yeah there wont be another like him, it’s definitely a great loss right there.
A video package then begins to play depicting Bearer’s career, along with some touching music. The mood in the arena it’s noticeably lowered, with everybody seemingly feeling the loss of Bearer quite vividly as the tribute video players. The video ends with a picture of Bearer, and the letters R.I.P displayed across him. Before the cameras cut back to the commentators something happens though…
ONE MAN BANNNDDDDD!
Much to the anger of the crowd Heath Slater comes out from backstage, and begins to make his way down towards the ring.
Taz: This son of a bitch, how disrespectful can a human get?
Cole: I’m honestly lost for words right now, this is just so wrong.
Slater makes his way into the ring, jogs across to a ring worker and demands a mic. He then takes his position in the middle of the ring, and address’ the crowd.
Slater: Oh boo hoo, some fat oaf died. Look at all of you acting like it’s a tragedy, that’s not a tragedy. No, the real tragedy around here is the way I’m being treated! I got left off of the pay-per-view, and left off of this show. Yet we can spare time for some obese idiot who didn’t even work here? That is not acceptable, I am the one man band and I deserve more than I’m currently being given…
There’s a huge explosion from the top of the ramp that cut’s Heath off, nothing seems to follow from it though as everyone watches on wondering what exactly happened.
Cole: Well it looks like we had a technical mishap there I apologise for that, and for what you’re having to hear right now.
Heath shrugs off the pyro going off, and gets ready to continue bashing Bearer. He lifts the mic to his mouth and…
Dead Man Walking!
The arena erupt into cheers as the entrance music of The Undertaker booms throughout the arena.
Taz: You don’t think it could be them do you Cole?
Cole: I don’t know Taz, we haven’t seem them together in years!
The cheering gets even louder as Kane and The Undertaker make their way out from backstage, and stand tall at the top of the entrance ramp.
Booker T: Oh my the Brother’s of Destruction, business is about to pick up right here.
Taker and Kane look down at Slater, before looking at each other and with a slight nod the two begin to make their way down to the ring. Heath Slater stands frozen in fear, as the two monsters climb onto the ring apron and enter into the squared circle. Slater holds his hands up begging for forgiveness. Taker just shakes his head though, and Kane watches on as his big brother floors Slater with one shot. Slater struggles to his feet, only to have Kane drop him this time. The two brothers then both start to throw bombs at Slater, beating him down to the ground and continuing with the assault. They then both grip him by the throat and pull him to his feet, and with almost no effort hoist him into the air and slam him down with a brutal double chokeslam. Kane then raises his arms into the air and drops them, setting off his pyro. The Brother’s of Destruction then turn to face the titantron where a picture of Bearer is showing. Each then takes their famous pose, and extend hand to Bearer on honour of his memory.
Cole: What a moment!
Taz: Yeah, thank God for Kane and The Undertaker being here tonight.
Taker and Kane then make there way backstage, as the show cuts to a commercial.
After the break, we come backstage, where CM Punk is standing near the Roulette Wheel, a smirk on his face. When he gets the go-ahead, he makes the spin, and round and round it goes! It lands on “Tables Match” and the crowd erupts! That’s one hell of a match type!
CM Punk vs. Cody Rhodes
CM Punk stands across from Cody Rhodes, the two looking very heated after some of the words said this night. All along the arena floor sit wooden tables. That is the only way this match can be completed. None of the tables are set up, implying that that is the job of the competitors. The bell rings, and the two lock up. CM Punk and Cody Rhodes in a match of strength – Cody Rhodes is the one to shove his opponent across the ring, but upon hitting the turnbuckle, Punk swivels on his heel and Rhodes is the one in the corner! He drives knee after knee into the gut of Rhodes, before slapping the taste out of his mouth with a vicious chop! Rhodes is infuriated, and sends a hart punch to the chest of Punk, before knocking him off his feet with a clothesline! He drives stomp after stomp on Punk’s chest, before standing on him with his boot, pressing down hard on his chest, leaning on the ropes for support. Punk sends punches into Rhodes’ thigh, eventually getting him off of his chest. Punk rolls directly out of the ring, and catches his breath. Rhodes follows him out, and is met with a bit roundhouse kick to the head! Rhodes is on the ground, and Punk goes about setting up the table. Is he going to put him through already? He lifts Rhodes up and is caught with a punch to the face! Punk falls back and leans against the table! Rhodes is on him and throws punch after punch at his face, before lying him on the table! Could this be the end? Rhodes jumps up to the apron and runs to jump on Punk! But he rolls out of the way, and Rhodes flies right towards the table! But he noticed Punk moving just in time, and he merely steps on the table and continues in a run and simply runs off the table, leaving it completely intact, amazingly. Punk though, catches him right off of it with a hard clothesline! He lifts up a second table, and slides it into the ring, before tossing Rhodes in right after. When Punk enters the ring, Rhodes is on his feet and hits the Beautiful Disaster Kick! CM Punk is down! He puts the table up himself, and places it near the corner. He picks Punk up and places him in the corner! He sets up the Superplex! CM Punk sends hard shots into Rhodes’ ribs, trying to avoid the Superplex, and he is able to put Rhodes onto his shoulders! He hits it! The GTS on the top rope, and Rhodes is sent backwards off the turnbuckles and falls outside the ring onto the table previously set up! Rhodes crashes through the table, ending the match!
Cole: Too bad. I like Punk, but I've been watching Rhodes for the last few months and I've come to like him.
Taz: I've come to like his in-ring ability, not the way he treats everyone not named Cody Rhodes.
Cole: Booker, what do you think of Cody Rhodes?
Booker T: I think he just lost a spot in my Fav Five to CM Punk.
Damien spins the roulette wheel and walks away before it stops, showing self-assurance that he can win in any situation. The wheel starts to slow down before finally landing on Steel Cage match.
Steel Cage Match for the TCW Television Champinonship
Damien Sandow© vs. Drew McIntyre
With the cage locked into place, the bell sounds. The fiery eyes of Drew McIntyre, desperately wanting the championship that was taken from him last Sunday. In contrast, the new champion looks calm and relaxed, brimming with confidence. McIntyre lunges at Sandow, who ducks and grabs the former champ around the neck. Smiling, the new TV Champ hits the neckbreaker. Both men arise, with Sandow grabbing McIntyre and delivering a few shots to the ribs before tossing him into the cage door. It does not budge, but Sandow's plan on victory has become apparent to everyone in the arena, including Drew McIntyre. The challenger tries to prevent this by hopping to the opposite end of the ring and forcing Sandow to come to him. Seeing that McIntyre will not budge, the TV Champ eyes his opponent, then the door, and decides to use this time to make his escape. He starts furiously kicking out the steel cage door as McIntyre returns to the corner to pry Sandow away. He grabs him by the throat and holds him on the ground, which is completely legal in a No Disqualification match like this. This clutch appears to be quite effective as Sandow struggles on the ground, but he manages to get a few punches to McIntyre's temple to loosen the hold and break free. As he rises to his feet, Sandow receives a kick to the head. McIntyre has that look in his eyes, the look of a man completely consumed by some kind of darkness. The pupils in his eyes roll to the back of his head as he stares horrifically at the current TV Champ. He grabs Sandow by his beard and slams his head into the cage wall. He even goes as far as to grate it on the metal cage before slamming it down on the ground with a basic DDT. With his opponent momentarily stunned, McIntyre tries to quickly climb the cage and win back his title. He moves up like an expert at first, but near the top he loses his footing and his right hand slips off the cage. As he struggles to regain his grip, Sandow makes it back to his feet and climbs up after him. Just as McIntyre clings back onto the cage, Sandow grabs his trunks and causes him to tumble back into the ring. Seeing is opponent on the ground and himself in an elevated position, Sandow waves his arm like a lord in days of lore. He looks down at McIntyre again before hitting him with an elavated Cubito Aequet! A diving Elbow of Disdain! He shouts, “You're welcome!” to the crowd that boos him through the metal cage. Once again, Sandow examines the door to the cage, and finds that more pressure will be needed to open the door. He runs his hand over his beard and ponders for a moment before looking back to Drew McIntyre, who remains motionless on the ground. The TV Champ brings his opponent to his feet and goes for an Irish Whip into the door...but McIntyre reverses it! With his last bit of strength, he throws Sandow into the door skull first. Both men fall to the ground in exhaustion, but the door opens! Sandow crawls towards the opening as McIntyre lies on the ground, seemingly knocked out. He places his hands on the ropes and still McIntyre has not budged. Sandow grabs the edge of the ring and somersaults out, waving his hands to the crowd as the bell sounds. McIntyre finally looks up to see Damien Sandow hold up the Television Championship, victorious.
Before he can truly celebrate, CM Punk comes out from backstage to seemingly congratulate the winner. While the TV Champ is obviously confused, he shakes Punk's hand. The man who held the WWE Title for over 400 days cannot hold back the giggles of what he is about to do. Still holding onto the TV Champ's hand, he kicks him once in the gut and lifts him on his shoulders. Turning to the ring, he hits the GTS on the Champ before scampering away.
Taz: Damien Sandow won the match cleanly, but Punk still felt the need to attack the TV Champ.
Booker T: I was starting to like Punk, but now I don't know, dawg.
Taz: As much as I don't like these two men, this little rivalry is starting to heat up nicely.
Cole: I know, right?
Taz: Shut up, Cole.
On each side of the roulette wheel stands Antonio Cesaro and Dean Ambrose. The lovely woman in between them spins the wheel for the last time tonight before quickly running off-screen, away from these two dangerous men. The wheel slows down and finally lands on Falls-Count-Anywhere. Both men grin at the result before walking away in opposite directions.
Falls-Count-Anywhere Non-Title Match
Dean Ambrose vs. Antonio Cesaro
Antonio Cesaro, the runner-up in the King of the Ring tournament, and Dean Ambrose, the man Cesaro would have faced, enter the ring for tonight's main event. From behind the curtain comes Santino Marella, the tournament's winner. The King of the Ring sits on his throne near the entrance ramp, wishing to watch the battle in its entirety. At the beginning of the match, Ambrose lifts his arm and sways his hand toward himself, beckoning Cesaro to attack him. Angered by this lack of fear, Cesaro rushes at his opponent. Ambrose drops to the ground, tripping Cesaro, and proceeds to pound his opponent's right calf in an attempt to bruise the muscle. He gets up and watches Cesaro grab his leg in pain before stomping on the other one. Cesaro kicks Ambrose in the shin, causing the Champ to hobble backwards. Antonio uses the ropes to stand back up. Ambrose bounces back and hits Cesaro with a clothesline that sends both men toppling out of the ring. Being the quicker of the two to get back up, Ambrose checks under the ring for a weapon. Taking a moment to deliberate, he finally decides on a push broom. An odd choice, but Ambrose quickly puts it to use on Cesaro's back. Antonio is able to stand up somehow and rips the broom from his opponent's grasp before snapping it in half. Tossing it aside, he lifts up Ambrose and turns to drop him onto the barricade, his head taking in most of the punishment. The fans sitting in the front row of that section appear to want the Champ to win this match as they stand up to yell at Cesaro inches away from his face. Antonio, knowing that a confrontation with a spectator could jeopardize his career, just stares at him coldly before looking back down at Ambrose. Once again he lifts up the Champ, and this time, while looking directly at the heckler, powerslams Ambrose onto the arena floor. While facedown on the cold ground Ambrose scurries around and appears to grab something. Cesaro does not notice as he pumps his arms up and down like machine parts, a signature move of his, while looking around at the crowd. He turns back to Ambrose, still lying on the ground, and puts him into position for the Neutralizer! Cesaro manages to get his arms around his opponent's leg before Ambrose lifts himself up and starts stabbing Antonio with something. He is stabbing Cesaro with the broken end of the wooden broom! Antonio drops his opponent and falls to the ground himself, covering up his face. When he drops his hands he reveals blood coming out of a cut above his left eyebrow. Ambrose drops his bloody weapon at Cesaro's feet and knees him right on his open wound. Although in much pain, Cesaro is able to catch one of these strikes and manages to lift Ambrose off of his feet. He stands up and, using the adrenaline he received from seeing his own blood and his natural strength, throws the Champ behind him, behind the barricade, and into the crowd. The loss of blood starts to affect Cesaro as he stumbles trying to find Ambrose on the other side of the barrier. His chest starts to become a crimson red as his head wound drips down, covering his face. He finally finds his opponent and grabs him from behind. He places Ambrose in a headlock and lifts him up in the air, bringing him back over the fan barricade. Cesaro grips harder in an attempt to make the Champ tap out. Ambrose, unable to grab ahold of anything, reaches behind himself and rakes Cesaro's open wound. The immense pain he experiences causes Antonio to let go of the Champ and drop to one knee. Ambrose takes a few steps away from Cesaro, all the while laughing at the work he has done. Out of nowhere, Ambrose takes off toward Cesaro and hits the Shining Wizard! He does not even bother to grab the leg for support as he drapes himself over the bloody Antinio Cesaro. 1...2...3!
The bell sounds and Ambrose has been declared the winner. At the top of the stage sits the King in his throne. Several servants are moving around the magnificent chair, one of the servants is even being used a foot rest, all getting King Santino whatever his heart desires. Santino looks down to the ring with a smile on his face and a shine in his crown. The new king barks a couple orders at some servants and before you can even blink Santino is being picked up by two on each side and carried to the center of the aisle way while another carries a golden microphone. King Santino takes the microphone from a servant who bows as they hand it to him. Dean Ambrose notices the commotion and looks at the top of the stage where Santino stands and stares at him.
Santino: Congratulations Deany boy. You’ve picked up yet another victory over another peasant. That seems to be all you can beat.
You can read the lips of Dean when he says “I beat you”. King Santino brushes it off and doesn’t even acknowledge what Dean has said.
Santino: You aren’t going to be able to skate by, beating peasants every night for very much longer. You are now dealing with me, your King, and I am not one of these ragged old men trying to reclaim some glory they once had in the indy’s. I am here to claim what is rightfully mine, my birthright if you will, and that’s the World Heavyweight Championship!
Dean Ambrose sits on the middle rope, lifts the top rope up a little, and motions for Santino to make his way to the ring. Santino however doesn’t go anywhere and stays firmly planted where he is.
Santino: A King doesn’t go into battle unprepared you wretched little heathen. I am going to come down to that ring when I am good and ready and take that title from around your waist and place it where it rightfully belongs.
Ambrose walks across to the technical area and barks at the ringside staff for a microphone, with Justin Roberts hastily obliging. Ambrose sighs audibly and then sweeps his sweaty hair out of his face. He grins for a moment, and then looks up to the stage where Santino is.
Dean Ambrose: Santino, I don't really know how to break this to you, but..your crown means nothing to me. The only difference that crown makes to you is that you look even more ridiculous than before. And yet...yet I've heard it puts you in the history books? People have told me that you'll go down in history? Let me break it you now - you won't. You and Antonio Cesaro went to war last week, but I'm just beat him without breaking a sweat. And in just under a month I'll do the same to you, spit on your crown and erase your name from the history books.
Santino: You would need an army to defeat me, Dean, and the last time I checked you don’t have one.
Suddenly, Brock Lensar's music begins! And the fans are on their feet! Santino quickly turns around and throws the microphone aside just as Brock appears from behind the curtain with the sadistic grin we saw earlier across his face. Brock takes a few steps toward Santino, but it doesn’t look like King Santino is scared and charges right at him! Brock ducks the first few shots and tackles him to the ground. Santino reaches out with his legs and trips Brock as he tries to stand. King Santino is back to his feet before Brock can get to his and grabs the mountain of a man by his head and tries to throw him into part of the stage, but is so strong that he reverses it and slams Santino into the cold steel! Brock kneels over top of King Santino and begins to unload on him with lefts rights and elbows! Santino is now busted open and blood is pouring out of the side of his head, as referees swarm the scene trying to separate the two, but to no avail. Brock gets off of Santino and turns his attention to the referees, grabbing one and tossing him to the ground. The other two learn their lesson and swiftly leave The SuperBeast alone, but Santino is back to his feet and lowblows Brock with a soccer kick! .Brock feels that one and drops to his knees, and Santino grabs the three foot scepter from beside the throne. Santino holds it up in the light and stares at for a moment, then turns to face Lesnar, who is on one knee. Santino taunts Lesnar to his feet, and when he makes it up, Santino swings for Brock's head...but Lesnar ducks! And spinebusters Santino right on the steel stage! Brock picks up the scepter, looks at it for a moment, then snaps it in half over his knee! Brock stares at the fallen King, and then realises he has the royal blood on his hand, and licks it off while Marella writhes in pain. He doesn't seem to be done yet, dragging King Santino to his feet, and propels him onto his shoulders...then powerbombs him straight through the Golden Throne, smashing it into pieces! Brock does not relinquish his grip and lifts Santino again, landing another powerbomb! And then a third time! Triple powerbomb! Ambrose, title draped over his shoulder, is grinning in the right as he watches The Superbeast stand over the fallen King, laughing.
Taz: Nothing good can come from that. I fear for every wrestler on the roster.
Booker T: Poor King Santino couldn't even enjoy his throne for one night.
Taz: And he's going to have to face Ambrose and Lesnar at the next Pay-Per-View.
Cole: That does it for us. We at Warzone wish all of you a good night.
|posts in thread|
|Smell The Chiken||
Apr 17, 13 at 6:30pm ^re: Total Championship Wrestling: Roleplay Thread II
- - - - - - -
Fireworks ignite near the entrance ramp as this week's episode of Warzone begins. The fans pop as the camera pans over the crowd, each individual hoping to be picked up on camera, those who made signs flaunting them proudly. The shot then cuts to the TCW announcing crew.
Immediately Michael Cole is cut off by one man's entrance music. Could it be Brock Lesnar? Alex Shelley? The Champ Dean Ambrose? Nobody can tell who it is at first, but then he comes from behind the curtain. It is Paul Heyman! What is he doing here? Lesnar turned him down. Even CM Punk turned him down. He struts into the ring smiling that devilish grin, obviously satisfied with whatever position he found for himself now. Who could it be? Damien Sandow? Antonio Cesaro? As the boos die down, the “E-C-W!” chants start. Heyman waits for these old-school fans to quiet down before he begins.
“I know the question on your minds. What could I be doing here? Brock Lesnar has turned against me, CM Punk refused my allegiance, and The Brian Kendrick has not been seen in TCW for weeks. If any of you had any common sense in your thick, empty skulls, then you wouldn't be questioning yourselves. Because, even though I am still here, there is one man who is not. His name is Ric Flair.”
The crowd pops at the mention of the wrestling legend, but Heyman continues.
“I wholeheartedly respect the man, but it is apparent that he can no longer wrestle. That is why he lost to Cody Rhodes at King of the Ring and that is why he is no longer a member of the TCW family. He lost his match and therefore had to step down as General Manager of TCW. With that vacancy looming as we continue on to the next pay-per-view, Vincent Kennedy McMahon realized that he needed someone with a good background in running a wrestling promotion. When that phone call came, and he offered me the job, I gladly accepted because Vince McMahon is someone who I will always cherish and care for, and I will always be there for him when he needs me.
As GM of TCW, I found something that I disapproved of pretty quickly. As I have watched your World Heavyweight Champion, Dean Ambrose, physically demolish his opponents in the ring, I found that he was basically facing the same people for the World Heavyweight Title. I wouldn't usually have a problem with this, because it means the top wrestlers are just doing there job. However, his next opponent for the TCW World Heavyweight Championship, Santino Marella, has already faced Dean Ambrose before for the title. To me, this is just getting repetitive. So, I decided to shake it up a bit. At the next pay-per-view, three Sundays from now, there will be a ladder match in which the prize is a contract for the World Heavyweight Championship. When it is used will be completely up to the winner. That's right, it is an old fashioned Money In The Bank ladder match! And what better way to decide the first entrant than using tonight's main event. Antonio Cesaro, Alex Shelley, whichever one of you comes out on top will be the first man to gain entry into the Money In The Bank match. Good luck men. And to the TCW fans in this building and watching at home, I'll be seeing you around.”
Giving off one last grin, Heyman exits the ring. The reaction is mixed, with the smarks and old-school fans cheering him on while the younger, more impressionable fans boo him as he walks backstage. The camera pans over to the announcers and each one of them is speechless. Paul Heyman is the new GM? There will be a Money In The Bank Match at the next pay-per-view? The winner of tonight's man event will gain a spot in that ladder match? So much has happened over these first few minutes of Warzone that the show takes a commercial break.
|posts in thread|
Apr 18, 13 at 2:49am ^re: Total Championship Wrestling: Roleplay Thread II
Record - 0/0/0
Finisher's: Ankle Lock, Brainbuster.
The cameras are rolling outside of the arena, the nights sky is filled with thick grey clouds as rain trickles from above onto the street, not a sound is to be heard from the eerie streets, lifeless apart from the wind and rain, in the distance however a faint sound of what sounds like a motorbike can be heard, the whirring sound gets louder, as if the bike is getting closer, the cameras pan left and right, looking for any visual images to match the expanding sounds of the bike's engine revving, suddenly the camera spins to the left as a black Yamaha R1 motorbike turns round the corner from behind the building, slowing down in front of the camera, a black clad figure with a rucksack on his shoulders kicks the kick stool out on the bike, continuing to rev the engine two more times before turning the engine off, sending the sounds back to just the wind and rain.
The figure steps off the bike, pulling the black rucksack on his back onto his right should and wiping the rain spitting onto his black helmet off as he approaches the camera, the camerman backs off a step as the figure stops, and turns back to his bike, he lowers his head as he pulls the black helmet off his head, turning around he reveals himself to be the newest addition to the TCW roster, Kyle O'Reilly.
Kyle approachs the camera, smirking as he wipes his gloved hand over the lens, removing the droplets of rain.
Kyle O'Reilly: Surprise, expecting someone else perhaps? He grins.
Sorry to dissapoint you if you were, but, as you may already be aware, tonights a big night, because tonight, Kyle O'Reilly makes his debut, and by the end of tonight, some unfortune members of the TCW roster are going to be introduced to either the knock out, or the tapout.
Kyle steps underneath the roof of the arena to shelter himself from the rain and wind that whistles in the air as it continues to get heavier
Kyle O'Reilly: See, even the elements are excited for tonight, because they know tonight, someone special is going to compete in his first match, and by the end of it, everyone, and I mean everyone, will be talking about one name and one name only, and that name will be Kyle O'Reilly. They'll be texting, calling their friends, 'Hey, Kyle O'Reilly's on TV, you've gotta see it!' they'll be tweeting, putting status' on facebook, everyone in the world by the end of tonight will know my name, and that's not bragging, that's just the cold hard truth.
You see, I don't think I'm better than anyone, I know, no matter who's champion, no matter who sells the most merchandise, the fact of the matter is, I'm going to prove from tonight, that I am here to be best wrestler in this company, I will rise up that ladder, and every opponent I face, will fall off the ladder into the abyss beneath me, because I will stand on top of this company, fallen opponents laying at my feet with their broken spirits and broken bones, every match the crowd will be mesmerized, and no matter what your opinion of me as a person, you will not be able to deny my dedication, and I will become the crowds addiction, every time Kyle O'Reilly's name is seen on the match card, they will be thinking 'that's a match I've got to see'.
Kyle looks out at the sky, the rain becoming more fierce as it lashes the ground, the sky reflecting in the small pools forming on the ground.
Kyle O'Reilly: See, I'm not about gimmicks, I'm straight forward, honest, I've already told you, it's get knocked out or tap out, many may consider that a weakness, but I disagree with that, I will put my life on the line to win, and I will always be training to become even better, to come up with new ways to win, add new strategies to my game, new moves, new ways to win, new ways to leave my mark on not just the ring, but the crowd, so they always leave talking about the match that Kyle O'Reilly had.
Tonight, is the perfect start on my climb to the top of this company, a four corners match, three opponents, and three men to knock out, or make tap out.
Will it be difficult? Of course, no match is easy, but that's why I put myself under the strictest training regimes, and I can't think of a better way to leave my name on the lips of the crowd tonight, by making my debut match a victory over not just one superstar, but three.
Kyle grins as he rubs his hand over his head and clenches his right hand, pointing to it with his left index finger.
Kyle O'Reilly: Knock out, or tap out, either way it's my victory, but, I'm not one dimensional, far from it, no matter how I win, a victory is all that matters to me, and making sure I leave my name on that ring as well as the crowd, my opponents, Daniel Bryan, Randy Orton and Dolph Ziggler, I may have never faced any of you in the ring before, but that just adds to my advantage. Kyle looks out at the sky as rumblings of thunder roar over the arena.
As I said previously, the elements can tell something big is going to happen tonight, but all I can say to my opponents is that I hope you've done some research and studied some tapes, but even if you have, it's not going to matter, because tonight, is the night of Kyle O'Reilly, I'll see you all in the ring, I advise you all to ring up your health insurance, just to make sure you're all covered, because tonight, it begins. Knock out, or tap out, it's your choice.
Kyle raises his right knuckle to his cheek and grins as he pulls his bag over his shoulder and heads into the arena as the cameras watch him enter before fading to black.
|posts in thread|
|[All dates in (PST) time]||Threads List « Next Newest Next Oldest »|
|REPLY TO THIS THREAD QUICK REPLY START NEW THREAD||PAGES: «prev 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 next»|
Powered by neoforums v2.3.9b (Bolieve)
Copyright Neo Era Media, Inc. 1999-2016