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Post by Osh Vaughan on Jun 20, 2023 11:48:25 GMT
Hardrising Title - Xavier Lux vs Trent Darby
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Post by Trent Darby on Jun 26, 2023 12:50:39 GMT
just in case it's unclear: plum is the main attraction, Trent here. orange is our unnamed bartender friend.
“PG-13 did it, Arthur! Just in the nick of time, he stole a third victory, to Trent Darby’s two! And he is THE inaugural male Proving Grounds Champion!”
Civil Unrest had come and gone, but some memories would remain forever. Junko Souma pinning Jasmine Rayne to win the women's title. Xavier Lux once again thwarted the Nightmare Court and defeating not only Jack Tyde, not only Tex Attwater but El Landerson to win the Hard-Rining championship. Crush and Caleb Scott going to war over the top prize of Combat. And of course, the proving grounds match, the one that had the crowd jumping up and screaming that "this was awesome" as five men went to war for thirty minutes. It had been a battle between the five competitors but luck had shown on two of them in particular as out of all five pinfalls in the match they were split between two people with victory being decided at the midnight hour.
There should be some pride. There was a little pride in that fact, but there should have been more because this was not the story of a winner, as judged by his taste in post-show locale. Crammed into a tiny, dimly-lit bar sat a heavily tattooed man with shaggy hair that seemed to be twisted into dreadlocks, a glass sat in front of him having gone untouched as he sat on a stool with his head in his hands. Every so often there was a soft grunt of acknowledgment that served to indicate he was still conscious and had some amount of wherewithal about himself but seldom did he speak or even raise his head.
“You uh…you okay there, buddy?” It was a question designed more to break up the monotonous silence of a mostly empty establishment than out of actual interest, but with very little in the way of much else to do while he finished polishing a rather large stack of used glasses, the older bartender looked on at the mope of a man who sat in front of him with a slightly raised eyebrow. “... Y' want to talk about it, kid? Penny for your thoughts, as they say.”
There were a few things that seemed to strike the tattooed man seated before him funny with that question, as for the first time since he had entered and taken a stool at the bar he raised his head looking at first a bit quizzical and then bemused as something that could have been at the start of a smile if his eyes didn’t look so dour started to form.
“I don't know. It'd be a long story and ain’t nothing I say going to be worth that much tonight.”
The bartender pauses just long enough to shrug and turns to walk away, if this tattooed stranger didn’t want to talk then it wasn’t like he was invested enough to force him, after all, but the moment he turns his back on the other man the stranger speaks up, causing the bartender to quickly roll his eyes at the drama of it all before turning back and propping himself up against the bar.
"I'm pretty good at what I do." The tattooed man pauses just long enough to swipe some long dreadlocks out of his face with a small sigh and raises and lowers one shoulder in a very rapid half-shrug. “I don’t mean to come off as arrogant or anything like that, but I try and keep things as honest as possible and I work hard to be fairly good at what I do for a living man. This past weekend I had what could have been the biggest opportunity of my career and man people were feeling it, and I had a chance man. I mean I had a real chance, it was there, it was feasible, it was right there in front of me and I just…” He trails off again, clenching his teeth in frustration at what was very obviously still a painful memory to recall. It had only been a few days since Civil Unrest at this point so perhaps that was natural that picking at a fresh scab would hurt more than rehashing older wounds. “...I couldn’t do it. Right at the end, the rub was snatched right out from under me and once again I was left with nothing. And brother if that doesn’t sum up how well I’ve done in this company as a whole so far, I can go out and I can give good performances, and at the very end something…something happens, and I end up falling short. It happened Sunday, it happened the Friday before, and it just…”
With all of these pauses the man behind the counter couldn’t help but flick his eyes towards the door, willing someone, anyone to walk through the door and save him from this awkward silence. Salvation that was determined not to arrive just yet no matter how hard he stares at the door, so finally he is forced to give up and turn back to his last only conscious customer. “I’m uh…I’m sorry to he-” “Not only did I not win on Sunday,” Suddenly sparked back to the conversation, conveniently missing the rather irked look on the bartender’s face that he had let that silence hang and only began speaking again when he had tried to interject even if honestly he hadn’t had much to add to this one-way conversation "But this Friday night they’re put me up against one of the top dudes once again. See, there’s this guy in the show, Xavier. Hell of a talented man, there’s no way I could take that away from him. I’ll admit to you and anyone eavesdropping in, I’ve been a fan of his for quite a while. Right now he’s one of the top guys on the brand, who actually managed to win this past Sunday and he’s holding one of the prizes on the show.“ ‘Venom’ Xavier Lux, the man with venom in his veins had been on one hell of a roll; ever since he had appeared on Friday night Combat, having up to this point gone undefeated, thwarting the Nightmare Court’s attempts at making him pay for attacking one of their members unprompted and culminating at Civil Unrest becoming the new HardRising championship by defeating two members of the nightmare court and luchador El Landerson. Not to mention his appearance in war games at World’s Collide where he teamed up with Mecca, it was clear that Xavier’s stock was rising by the day and nobody had managed to stop its accent yet. “...And?” “...Huh?” That one word seems to catch Trent off guard, for a variety of reasons. It was clear that he had not expected to be questioned like this when he had simply been giving a brief explanation of who Xavier Lux had been, and it is apparent that he is momentarily struck dumb as his mind is unable to piece together how he was supposed to respond. “W-What do you mean ‘and? And what, exactly?” “What’s the problem, exactly?” Much like he was talking to a child, the unnamed bartender is trying to lead an answer out of Trent. Lead a horse to water but would he actually drink? “You were talkin' about this dude, what. You scared of him or something?” “Scared.” It was a statement, not a question and at this, Trent had stiffened up and was staring at the other man like he had just sprouted a second head. Clearly, this was not what he had expected the takeaway from the story to be. “Nah. Nah nah nah man, that ain’t it at all. More like…nervous, I suppose. I don’t got a problem with admitting that I’m fighting off some early butterflies in the belly, but it ain’t really because of who he is or that he’s undefeated. It’s something a lot more important than that.” Stopping his train of thought just long enough to tug on the end of his beard as the bartender tried his best to listen while wiping out the same glass he had been cleaning this entire time., Trent sighs and states very matter-of-factly as if it explained everything: “It’s a title match.” The news had come out, this upcoming Friday night on Combat Xavier Lux would defend his newly won hardrising championship against the last honest man in professional wrestling, Trent Darby. The man from Baltimore stares off through the glass window of the entrance door and remains in silence momentarily as he tried to think of a way to make everything make sense to this person before he continues. “There are a small number of people I would say I’m afraid of. Everyone’s got some fears, some more rational than others but Xavier Lux is not on that list, let’s just get that out of the way. I don’t say that to be antagonistic or cut the man down, as stated I’m a bit of a fan of his before we got hired by the same company but I say it more to the point of: I am not afraid of the match itself. Our win-loss totals may be a bit out of balance at the moment but I shall tell you, I shall tell Xavier in a few days when I have to address him directly the same thing I directed at PG-13: I am not afraid of any single wrestler on Combat. Even at Civil Uprising, for all his bravado and the things said leading up to the match, not only did I get the first fall in that match, but I was not pinned. I did not submit to anyone, I wasn’t defeated in any form of the word except for the most important part and even then, PG-13 had to steal a last-second victory from the limp body of a man that I had just elbowed in the head. So really, what did I lose?
.A guaranteed shot at the tv title was the honest answer, but the feeling was that was not the correct thing to say at this moment. Glancing at his watch the tattooed man gets to his feed and fishes around in his pocket for something, first pulling out a small gray phone and secondly some green dollar bills. He had grown tired of hearing himself speak, it seemed. “ It doesn’t matter what I say now, I’ll have more thought up when I address him and people directly. But you don’t need to worry about that much man" ‘I don’t know if we’ll ever meet again anyway.’ went through his head but remained unsaid. Giving a last shake of his head he starts to punch something into his phone, eyes scanning words on the screen and he frowns at whatever was sent back in response. “But, if you’re curious the simple truth is this. It was difficult, being forced to walk out of Civil Unrest without the shot that I should have had; that was snatched away from me unjustly. But walking into Combat with the chance to win the Hardrising championship?” For the first time in a long time that evening, Trent smiles. “Brother, as someone who prides himself as the last honest man in my industry, you can believe it when I say: I’d take that consolation prize any time. Friday night, Charm City will indeed be calling. Who answers we’ll have to wait and see.” With that finally said and without another word to the man who had been subjected to all of this, Trent made his way outside. Stopping underneath a building’s awning just long enough to punch some numbers into his phone and the last thing heard in this scene as the picture slowly fades besides the thudding footsteps in an empty street was a soft click of a phone being answered and three short words.
"We gotta talk.”
google docs clocks it a tick under 2k planned part 1 of 2
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Xavier Lux
New Member
Triple Crown Champion
Posts: 22
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Post by Xavier Lux on Jun 28, 2023 21:31:01 GMT
OOC: Continued from: A Sister's Plan Thwarted.
Two weeks ago. A stocky short man looking to be in his mid-sixties is getting dressed. He already has his black pants on and is putting on a pink long-sleeve shirt on, but before he buttons it, we can see a scar in his back, about six inches long, likely from a knife wound. In his chest, there is another scar, this one from a bullet wound right above where his heart is. As he buttons up the shirt, we see that some of his fingers in his right hand are missing. He puts on a tie as he watches himself in the mirror, and there we see another scar, right next to his right eye which has left his eye socket looking messed up and his iris and pupil white, likely blind. His hair is almost non-existent, but whatever is left he has combed back. He throws on his jacket, and grimaces as he does, feeling the pain from other scars and battle wounds we didn’t get to see. He grabs a frame sitting on his dresser and looks at it, it holds a picture of his young son. There is a knock on the door and he grunts before telling whoever it is to come in. A muscular looking man, casually dressed, comes in. Man: Don Andolini, pardon the interruption. But they’re back. The Don puts the picture down and then looks at the man via the mirror.Don Andolini: And? Did he take the bait? Did he agree to meet me? Man: Well, actually sir… He clears his throat. There was a problem.The Don glares at him, his eyebrows lowering and pulled closer together. Don Andolini: What do you mean there was a problem?Man: We got the boy at the airport as planned, gave Cassandra the message to deliver to Xavier but then… Someone intervened, and they took the boy back to Xavier… so… they’re… not… coming. The Don responds through tighten and curled up lips. Don Andolini: Bring those two cretinos in… NOW. Man: Right away sir.The man leaves and not five seconds later, two other men came in. The driver of the limo and the one who gave the note to Cassandra. Before they can begin explaining to The Don, he has pulled out a silver revolver… He shoots the assistant in the chest, dropping him right away, and the driver, he shoots on his left leg, also dropping him. Don Andolini: He’s dead, but the only reason I don’t kill you is because good drivers are hard to find… The driver goes to answer through teary eyes as he holds his leg in pan but The Don holds his hand up, shushing him.Don Andolini: FIND ME THAT CAGNA CASSANDRA AND BRING HER TO ME!The Don curses in Italian and goes off in a rant, tossing the revolver on the dresser. The driver crawls out of the room, leaving a streak of blood behind.
This past weekend. A sign made up of led lightbulbs in the shape 3 numbers shines brightly in the middle of a humid night in a private island near Miami, Florida. 594 are those three numbers, and for those of you familiar with Xavier’s story know exactly what those numbers mean, and for those not familiar with it, he will soon fill you in… He comes into the picture, sporting a classic weapon wielded by many in our industry: a titanium bat. His is silver in color, and has his logo and name printed on it… Now Xavier has never been a baseball aficionado, wrestling is really his only sport that he practices and watches, but for this occasion, the bat was not only fitting, but necessary. He is all alone at the moment, and he walks around the numbers, as if studying them, contemplating his next move. His gear makes him stick out in the darkness, as he wears an orange jumper suit that makes him look bulkier than he is, tan Timberland boots and wears on his head a nice set of goggles, which he puts on… Hey, safety first… He takes a stance and looks ready to do what we all know he is here to do, but then pauses, puts the goggles back on his forehead and then turns to face us. Xavier: Five hundred and night four days… That is how long it’s been since I’ve held a single championship… If you need to know, that was the OCW Paradigm championship which I did not lose, I forfeited when I left the promotion due to… some creative differences… They called what they did a purge, I disagreed, but that’s a story for another day. I guess I could use the larger number, 616, the date I actually last won said title… Almost two years man, it’s crazy, 2022 did kick my ass hard and even though I had a few chances at gold, I came up short… but this year I told myself it would be different and if it had to be different I knew I had to do it in a promotion where the talent was still top notch, and there wouldn’t be any free rides… Ever since joining IIW I have been working my ass off for this moment, building momentum, remaining undefeated, joining the greatest faction in the wrestling world today, and now, tonight, I’m happy to stand here and say that I have broken the streak… Well, actually, not yet… One moment.He puts the goggles back on and turns to face the numbers. Xavier: Swing away Merrill… Merrill, swing away…He swings the bat with all his might, hitting the nine right in the middle, shattering it to pieces. All the lights in that number go out but the 5 and the 4 remain lit. Xavier then swings at the five and once that one goes out, he takes out the 4. Once all the lights are out, and he is left in almost complete darkness, the lights from a few lamp posts nearby providing visual aid, he continues to smash the sign, until it falls over and even then he continues smashing it to pieces, relieving all the pent up frustration of almost two years without gold. After a few more swings, he stumbles backwards, putting the bat over his shoulder, breathing heavily. Xavier: That line is from the movie Signs... I know, movie sucked but my mom loved it, she would use it to motivate me when I was down in my slumps... So this is dedicated to her... Love you 'ma.... So, consider this curse, streak, whatever, broken. He throws the bat to the side and then proceeds to unzip his jumper suit, kicking off his boots and when he fully removes it, he reveals that he’s wearing black clothes, but what catches your attention are the two championships wrapped around his waist… and now we know why he looked bulkier. He puts his boots back on, adjusts the belts around his torso and as he stands there looking like the champion he is, he says… Xavier: NOW I am happy to stand here as your new Hardcore and Uprising Champion. He pauses a moment, closes his eyes as he lets that sink in, but not for you, ‘the fans’, but for himself… As this moment is still very surreal to him, he drifts away in his mind, to a place he can focus. I almost walked away from the sport at the beginning of the year until Fred Debonair told me to come to IIW…
How one simple decision has changed my life for the better, and now I am no longer the hunter but the hunted as the saying goes…
The first one to come after me is none other than Trent Darby, a name I knew before today... Okay, I’m not going to lie, I have no idea who you are but you are the first of many to come for my titles, and that’s all that really matters to me… I don’t care where you are from, who you roll with, how long you’ve been in IIW or where you were before this… All of that is irrelevant… Sure, I may watch some of your matches to get familiar with your style and what you bring to the table "rassling wise", but at the end of the day you are just a number to me… "One…"
You will try to remove these championships from my grasp but know that I am not going to let go of them that easily, and specially not on my first defense… I'm not known to be a one-and-done type of wrestler. I cannot even contemplate that thought right now, I gotta build a positive streak now… I have been gold-less for far too long for me to go back to that life… I can’t, I won’t…
So Darby, I know you will bring me your best, I know you probably feel like you deserve these just as much as I do if not more but the fact of the matter is these are MY titles. I am building the foundation not only for my IIW career with them, but also the foundation for Mecca in the Combat brand. How can I convince anyone to follow me and join our ranks if I lose them on my first time out? J-Mont has chosen me to be the leader of Mecca-Combat, and what kind of a leader would I be I didn’t lead by example like he is doing? We all know J-Mont talks trash like no other, but unlike most, he can back it up… There is a reason he is the World Champion and I have to be the same way. So far I have backed up my words: I’m undefeated… Now I am validated with two championships... Call me undisputed and nothing will change after I face you on Combat Darby, I guarantee it. He opens his eyes and smiles. Xavier: Now, who’s ready to party? As he finishes that sentence, fireworks go off right above him, having been shot up from a nearby boat. Lights all around the small island come on to reveal a huge party scene. Dozens if not over a hundred people let out a loud cheer and the DJ drops the beat, officially starting the party. There is food and drinks everywhere, a large pool filled with people having a great time with the beach nearby also having people in it, swimming and there is even some skinny-dipping going on. Someone hands Xavier a drink and then he gets greeted and congratulated by a few of his close friends, some wrestlers, some not. J-Mont and his soon to be wife Mia are here, as well as all the members of Team Mecca... Chris Page and CCPE as well... All after congratulating go enjoy the party. People like Paco Perez, his daughter Paula and his nephew Cholo Santana, whom he considers family. Peter Vaughn, his Exiles brother is also here, and after making sure J-Mont is far away, he congratulates Xavier before going off on his own. Xavier chuckles at this, but after finding himself alone, he checks his phone, looking to see if he has any missed calls or texts from his sister… Nothing. He calls her, but it goes straight to voice mail which Xavier finds odd. He doesn’t leave a message, sending a text instead, which he says out loud as he types. Xavier: Where you at Cassandra? And where is my nephew? I haven’t seen you since the pay-per-view, I need you here with me. He hits send and contemplates adding something else before deciding against it. Xavier: I’m sure they’re on their way. Somehow he feels like he is lying to himself, but shifts his focus to his party, taking the belts off and handing them over to a caterer who has no idea what to do with them.
To be continued…
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Post by Trent Darby on Jun 30, 2023 15:08:33 GMT
Everything ends eventually. How soon, well...
The almost overwhelming urge to vomit, the human body’s way of telling you that everything was working out as intended.
There had been so much on his mind lately that the date threatened to slip from his mind for the first time in a while, something that Trent Darby had kicked himself more than once for as he made a quick detour from the planned destination of the next Combat to fly back home to Baltimore. There had been one saving grace in all of this in that so far he had managed to bluff his way through allegations that he had forgotten the date and assured people various times he had been on his way and would be in town for this as he always had been. It wasn’t a lie although he still felt a pang of guilt at the slight misleading, but in the end, he had arrived as promised.
If only it had been under better circumstances. Grimacing for a moment before working hard to appear as neutral and stone-faced as possible, Trent pushes his way forward into the meeting spot, heavy coat out of season for a June afternoon As he walked silently, footsteps crunching softly on a gravel path and occasionally running a hand casually over the etched stone that lined the path before coming to an unannounced stop in front of a small stone that lay underneath the shade of a large tree. “Shit, hard to believe it’s been a year already. Time flies.”
A glance around confirms that nobody else had arrived yet and with a small grunt of effort and age, Trent dropped to a seat beside the stone and ran a hand through his hair as he draws his knees to his chest. An uncomfortable awkward silence fills the air as Darby sits in silence alone sucking on the inside of his cheek thoughtfully before finally casting his gaze down towards the stone nameplate that lay at his feet.
“It’s been just about ten years I’ve been coming up here. For ten years we get together, we remember, we celebrate we memorate, and share stories. memories, we share in grief, and in turn, it gives us a bond. I try and come up here every so often when things get a bit hard to handle and I have a few things I need to get off my chest, and with Combat coming up, and seeing who I have a match against before I even knew what I was doing I was making my way back here. And I gotta be honest with you, even more than usual I wish you were here with me right now because I really wish I could share the news with you, share my concerns, actually have a two-way conversation.”
He sighs and starts to dig in the pockets of his long coat for something but stops moving before re retrieves it from the coat, instead simply pulling his hand out and scratching at the end of his long beard. After another brief moment of silence spent collecting thoughts and making sure nobody else had arrived yet he speaks once again, his voice lowered just in case so only the gravestone could hear as if that was even possible. “See, word got out about some of the things Xavier Lux said about the match we’re booked for this Friday and it’s put some of the usual thoughts in my head. Xavier Lux, member of the CCPE, associate act of Mecca that’s running roughshod over Mayhem, and big-time wrestling star will defend his newly won Hardcore Uprising championships against yours truly, "The last honest man in pro wrestling "Trent Darby.”
Not that it was able to be seen at all, but at the self-introduction of his chosen moniker Trent can’t help but give it a little flourish and gives a slight bow, a small grin in place before it’s quickly replaced with a somber frown and he clasps his hands together, head craned back skyward. “I have to be honest with you for a moment man, as much as I hate to sit here and admit it there are some things that you said that I can’t argue against Xavier. See, big-time wrestlin' star that you were before you came to IIW I don’t expect you, or much of anyone to have taken much notice of me before we get in the ring together. If I want to call myself the last honest man then I have to be honest and say that I was not exactly the biggest star in the world before I came back to this sport. Little successes here and there, but mainly group wins, do you understand me? Sadly never had much luck in the way of winning singles gold on my own, which is one of the reasons I was surprised, happy but surprised that I had been chosen to be your first title defense for this Friday.”
Pausing just long enough to scratch an eyebrow with his thumb, Trent opens his mouth as if he was about to say something, pauses again, and gives a little laugh and a shake of his head, clearly having some second thoughts about whatever he had been about to tack on to the rest of that statement. “So far…my time on IIW has not exactly been the biggest success story there’s ever been. Always close, always competitive but there’s always that one thing, that one little hurdle that seems to cause me to trip and fall at the finish line. Caleb Scott, seemed like I had him beat and then make a mistake that cost me. Civil Unrest should have been my night, the night where everything changed and at the last second it just…all went wrong.” The memory is still a bitter one based on the sour look that comes over his face as he mentions Combat’s last big show, that one it seems like is going to sting for a while. “You, on the other hand, have been the complete opposite. You’ve managed to go undefeated so far on combat, you’ve defeated every enemy the pirates have thrown at you, you won war games and you won the Hardcore and Uprising belts. All very impressive feats, man.” Trent does his best to appear impressed and does give a small golf clap round of applause. If this is sincere or a bit mocking depends on the listener but he knows his true intentions behind it and that’s what matters. “Now with that said, some of what you’ve talked about in the past, things like being CCPE and hanging out with Mecca, and this assignment that the champion over on Mayhem assigned to you, I just have to be honest man: none of that really means anything to me.” It’s stated in a simple matter, like he had just casually stated to a small child that a stove was hot or water was wet, raising and lowering one shoulder in a half-shrug as he did so. “Not trying to be rude or disrespectful or anything like that, but the truth is the truth. The Mecca can ruin all the lives they want on Mayhem but it’s not like I’m that bothered on Combat, you get what I’m sayin’. Mayhem has their business and I have mine, and I got a hard enough time keeping my own affairs in order man.” Sorry Mayhem wrestlers who weren’t members of Mecca, and good luck with all that. “But you are very much right in one thing you said, Xavier: and that is I do want to take those belts from you. In fact, it’s more of a want. to the point that it’s more like” Trent stops in mid-sentence once again and for a moment a quizzical look comes over his features as if he was searching for something in the deepest corners of his mind, trying to find just the right thing to say. “I guess we can go ahead and just say that it’s a need. Even before you had a belt to put on the line, you are exactly the type of guy that deep down I wanted to wrestle Xavier, for all the reasons stated. Big ol wrestling star, name recognition, maybe not the most likable guy if you believe the rumblings,” there was another shrug here, the universal signal of ‘I don’t know but so I’ve heard.’ “But a rising star in the company. CCPE, Mecca, and now Hardcore Uprising champion. You are in fact just the right guy someone like me, someone who already admitted he was not exactly a name-brand superstar just yet needs to fight. And now that you have some belts, and now that Combat has decided to make our match a title match, if I can beat you like I think I can? Like I know that I can...?" He trails off once again, this time lost in a daydream of his somehow defeating Xavier Lux, not only handing Xavier his first IIW loss but handing him his first loss and cutting his title reign short at about five days, before snapping himself back to reality.“I try not to make guarantees. Just a personal rule, because anything can happen in this great sport we compete in, and on any given day anyone can get a victory over anyone. But this being the special occasion that it is, what the hell. I’ll give you two guarantees that you can mark down as facts when it comes to our match this Friday. The first is simple, but it’s the most obvious: I guarantee to you, Xavier Lux that our match this Friday at Combat will be your most challenging one yet. Whatever you want to take away from that, the truth is the truth. And the truth is: I am not Tex Attwater. I am not Ryan McCann. I am not El Landerson. Hell, I don’t think I’m a pirate so I’m not even Jack Tyde. What I am is an annoyed six-foot, two-hundred-pound Baltimore Orioles fan who won’t hesitate to bash someone in the head with my elbow if that’s what it takes to get things done,” There is no aggression to be found in his tone of voice, no malice. It’s almost like he’s saying he was going to go to the store and get a gallon of milk instead of casually speaking of hitting people repeatedly in the head with the point of his elbow. “The second guarantee is not just for you but for anyone who may be watching either inside or outside of IIW, and that is simply this: watch what happens Friday. Watch what I put Xavier through. I’m not the type of wrestler who does a ton of flips or high-flying moves, I don’t lock on a thousand-and-one submission holds, I punch people in the mouth and I’ve gotten damn good at it. So I want the world, I want IIW, I want Combat, and yes, I want you Xavier, I want you all to watch what happens when it's finally time for the two of us to get in that ring. And I guarantee that by the end of our time together, you will know that Trent Darby, the last honest man in pro wrestling is someone you shouldn’t ignore. Someone you should keep an eye out for." Glancing up for the first time in a while, caught up in his own spiel for longer than he would like to admit, the sight of a few approaching bodies causes Trent to shoot up to a standing position, pausing just long enough to once again brush his fingers gingerly over the headstone once again. Before striding over to meet the group halfway, trying to appear like he didn’t have a care in the world. Under his breath, as he starts to leave though, if one strained their ears you could just make out four quiet words.
“Wish me luck, ma.”
google docs clocks it at 2k exactly
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Xavier Lux
New Member
Triple Crown Champion
Posts: 22
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Post by Xavier Lux on Jul 4, 2023 16:46:49 GMT
2 weeks ago… We go 1972 miles west of Miami, Florida, back to Phoenix, site of the Civil Unrest PPV and the last time Xavier saw his ‘sister’ Cassandra and his ‘nephew’ Bray. It’s the day after the event, and they have taken an uber from Phoenix to Maricopa, where the nearest Amtrak train station is. It’s a small station, not much to look at, not historic and not really an attention grabber which is exactly what Cassandra needs now. They have gotten their tickets, destination unknown to us, and are sitting at a nearby picnic table under a canopy, just waiting for their train to arrive and their boarding time. Cassandra has a small carry on piece of luggage with her and Bray only his backpack with a few clothes and his electronics he can’t live without, much like any kid this day and age. Cassandra is looking very nervous but Bray, her 8 year old son, is looking very somber. He finishes a juice box and throws it in a nearby trashcan, when he returns, he doesn’t sit down, instead stands in front of his mom.Casandra: What is it baby?Braylon: I still don’t understand…Casandra: What don’t you understand?Braylon: Everything… Why aren’t with my uncle celebrating? Why aren’t we travelling back to Miami with him? Why aren’t we travelling by plane period… Where are we? Where are we going? Why-Casandra: Okay, okay, okay! I get it, I’m sorry for keeping you in the dark son, but you are too small to understand most of it.Braylon: No I’m not! My uncle Xavier said I was the smartest eight year old he ever met! And he meets tons of kids! You know he does!Casandra: You are very smart, I’m not saying you’re not… It’s just you’re too little to understand this… We just can’t be with him right now, remember the bad men mommy told you about? Braylon: Yes…Casandra: Well they’re back, so just like before, we have to go into hiding. That’s why we can’t travel by plane because they’ll be able to find us that way.Braylon: But why?! You said if we found my uncle, he would help! So why don’t we ask him for help? Casandra: Because baby, it’s complicated… Mommy made a promise she couldn’t keep and now she made matters worst… You uncle won’t be able to help us.Braylon: How do you know that? Did you even try to ask him? Wait, what promise? The promise… she thinks to herself, of trading our safety for your uncle’s life… For the man who is not really your uncle… but the murderer of your real uncle… Casandra: I can’t tell you that baby.Because if she did, she would hate herself for it… She made up this whole story using him, and now, he’s falling in love with his famous uncle, the wrestler, the now champion… The man who now has everything going on for himself and it was the perfect time to take him down… But she blew it and now she knows that her father will not tolerate failure… He wanted revenge and she failed him… Every scar in her uncle’s body are a direct result of Xavier’s father, “The Scorpion”, who turned on him… and instead of killing Xavier, his own son, took down his empire. Xavier thought “The Don” was dead, that chapter of his story was over… and so did Cassandra, but her uncle must have nine lives because he still lives, and it is still hell bent on revenge. Revenge she of course wants herself, but now what? She failed, so the only thing she thought of was to run... from her own father... How messed up has her life gotten.Braylon: What is it mom?Bray brings her back to reality and she sees that the train arrived while she was lost in thought. Casandra: Nothing baby, look you trust me right?Braylon: Yeah…Casandra: Good, let’s go board the train and I’ll tell you more there, okay?Braylon: Okay, but mom… will I be able to see my uncle again? She locks eyes with him and sees the desperation in his eyes, how can she keep lying to him like this she wonders… but she must. Casandra: Of course baby.He smiles and grabs his mom’s hand and they head inside the train station.
Present time It’s the morning after the party, and while crew and staff work hard to clean up the small resort in this island, not many guests are out and about… All had the option to stay for the week, and about half took on the invitation but the other half, having busy lives to get back to, did that in the early hours of the morning. It’s about 10AM, and Xavier Lux finds himself sitting on a beach chair, right at the edge of the water, as the waves clash softly against his feet. He wears nothing but beach shorts and is sipping on a strong bloody Mary. He has an IIW drone flying right in front of him, but ignores it as he is looking at something on his phone. After a few minutes, he puts it away, takes a long sip from his drink and then buries it slightly on the soft sand. He looks up to the drone, without removing his sunglasses, likely covering a helluva hangover. Xavier: Trent Darby, thanks for the Civil Unrest pay-per-view recap, now I don’t have to rewatch a show that clearly only had one highlight: “Venom” Xavier Lux becoming the NEW Hardcore & Uprising champion… I know they want me to call it the Hard-Rising championship, but again, I AIN’T DOING THAT! I worked too hard to get to this spot, and if Sebastian Hamilton got to hold two championships, and walk around with them, then damn it, I AM TOO!
Now Trent, you could have had a highlight of your own, and you were so close to doing it… Both of you had 2 pins a piece, but Parental Guardian Number Thirteen, GREAT NAME, showed the whole world that they wanted it more and you lost your chance to be the inaugural Proving Grounds champion… GOOD! I’m glad you know what the feeling of losing a tile match feels like… That way, when you lose to me at the upcoming Friday Night Combat, the sting of defeat won’t be as bad… Because make no mistake about it Darby, just like you lost that title match, you are going to lose this one, with a few small differences… You don’t have to worry about four opponents kicking your ass, just the ass kicking machine known as Xavier Lux. It will only take me delivering The Toxin and getting one pin to put down. The match itself won’t be so close, I will show you and the rest of the Combat roster why I will be a dominating champion… Lastly, you won’t have four other wrestlers to make you look good... In our match, it’s all on your shoulders to shine and unfortunately for you, I am head and shoulders above you.
How much must it sting to have come so close to be at the top of the mountain only to have someone who is not even rated R kick you off and send you rolling down, swallowed by an avalanche of failures. I wish I could tell you that things are going to get better for you, oh who am I kidding, no I don’t! The snowball is only going to keep rolling faster and getting bigger… Your downward spiral doesn’t end here, it will keep going and who knows when it will come to a stop… I sure as hell don’t, but frankly… who cares? Like I told you in my first promo, I had no idea who you were before getting announced as my first title defense… But now that I do, nothing has changed… I am only worried about one story and it’s mine, and you are not even a chapter in it… You’re not even worth a few pages in the book of Venom… You will be a footnote, along with all the other losers I’ve beaten so far here in Friday Night Combat… I’ve yet to meet the man who has made me even break a sweat one-one-one and after that performance you put on at Civil Unrest, I very much doubt that you will be the one. But I do want to take a moment to thank you, because if there is one ting that your loss has thought me is how much Team Mecca material PG-13 is. So I guess you have your uses after all Darby… Much like El Landerson, Tex Attwater and Jack Tyde… you are meant to make others look good… Thanks in advance for being a great hand Darby. He pauses as he grabs his drink, stands up and begins to walk along the beach. Xavier: Look Darby, let me back track and cut you a little slack… Not too much, just a little, and only because something that you said hit a chord with me as you poured your heart out to that bartender who clearly didn’t give a damn. I stand by what I said, you are going to take this L, there is no doubt about it… and by taking this L, it will be just another in a streak of many… You’re in a funk in IIW, and you’ve looked good in your matches… You’ve come close, but at the end of the night, there you sit, empty handed without a win… without gold… without anything to feel good about.
You are me, in XWF last year…
I don’t know how many loses you have ate here in IIW, but in XWF, I ate over ten… I gave that promotion a whole year of my career, and you know ‘in this business’ we’re in, one whole calendar year is a long time to give a promotion… But I stuck it out, working hard at my craft, hoping to finally be given that big break… Hoping to finally win the big match or earn myself a title… But that never happened… Don’t get me wrong, I won just a bit more than I lost… but it felt as my wins were meaningless, and all the matches that mattered, I lost… and in close fashion… Like you said, “there was always something.”
I hate to relate to my opponents, I really do, because when I came to IIW I promised myself that I would be a different Xavier Lux than what I was in XWF… I was going to go all out, balls to the wall, not give a flying F and just go hard at my opponents regardless of who they were… But here we are, I find myself relating to your situation and the only advise I can give you is this… Don’t wait as long as I did… Sometimes, some places, just aren’t meant for us… There is no point in trying to pound a square peg into a round hole… If it doesn’t fit it doesn’t fit, there is no point in trying the impossible… Like I said, I don’t know how many L’s you’ve taken here, but you are definitely taking at least one more…
But know this, there is no shame in losing to someone like me… I am that damn good and what happened to me in XWF, was an abnormality… Just like what may be happening to you in IIW…. So get out while you can Trent… That’s my advice to you…
Or maybe switch brands, because while I hold these titles, you aren't getting them.He smiles, toasts to the drone and then finishes his drink. He puts the drink down and waves the drone off as he normally does... Our last image is of Xavier going into the water for a swim.
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