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Author Topic: Three's a Crowd? (Maya/Zex/O2 Vs Loco/Anarchy) Joint RP.  (Read 337 times)

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Three's a Crowd? (Maya/Zex/O2 Vs Loco/Anarchy) Joint RP.
« on: October 26, 2014, 08:22:54 PM »


It had been a long time since Maya took a drag from a cigarette, but he could feel it filling him up inside and just washing his whole body with a calm he was in desperate need of. He used to smoke packs of these things in a week when he was on tour with Shinya, they never thought much about it. But when they got into wrestling, when they got really serious about it, it was the first thing to go.

It was just some shitty back alley near the shitty little liquor store he bought the pack from. He didn't bring the SHOOT Project World Title to scummy little places like this, something so honorable didn't deserve to see a den this dark.

With everything that had been going on, Maya didn't know what to think anymore. A part of him wanted to believe Loco, that there was no way he could have played a role in all of this. But no matter how hard he tried, no matter what he tried to convince himself of... there was no one else. No one else had a reason to do any of it. Isaac had saved Maya every chance he had, and Maya could see honest to God change in him. But Loco...

He had every reason in the world, and Maya knew he was capable of such malice.



It wasn’t like Zex to feel like this, he was known throughout his wrestling career for being a good guy, trustworthy and honest; welcoming to all those around him and always willing to offer the benefit of the doubt. He’d been called naive a few times, stupid a hell of a lot more; but always shrugged it off with a “no skin off my nose” attitude.

But, this had changed somewhat in recent weeks. He could sense something was wrong, that the winds of change were on their way. If his sense of humour hadn’t been dampened by a hellacious chair shot; he may have made a Game of Thrones “winter is coming” joke, but didn’t…Even feeling a little grossed out; when a thought came to him, suggesting that this particular phrase could almost belong to SHOOT Project’s own “Billy Winter” while he was in the thralls of passion.

Maybe, just maybe that was the problem? The way in which Anarchy had acted during their match… He wasn’t one to study tape, but he’d seen a few Anarchy matches here and there; and to his knowledge they were not the sort of team to relentlessly beat on a guy and then use a weapon when the tide was turned on them.

Zex had foolishly taken them lightly. He had come into the match expecting to wrestle and was instead flung into something resembling a bar fight… He thought there was a level of respect there; that Anarchy, much like he and Omar wanted to go out there and put on a tag team clinic…But he was wrong, his opinion of Anarchy and their current mind-set had changed.

Having the ever loving piss kicked out of you will do that.

With his foot down on the pedal, tattooed hands resting on the steering wheel and the night sky spreading out above his head, “The Artist” lost in thought stares out onto the road before him, the white lines in the centre blending into one, flickering before him like the markings on a sports field.

He’s traveling alone tonight; Rain was hanging out with Auryn at the uncomfortably clinical house she was sitting for and Zex needed to clear his mind…Though as the watery and dreamlike sounds of “Into Black” by Blouse accompanied his journey; he couldn’t help but wonder if all this was futile?

This is not a “wean” on his passion for the sport of professional wrestling; but rather those who seem to sour the sport with their insidious nature. Since joining SHOOT; Zex has found himself on the receiving end of a beat-down more than once; if it wasn’t Jacob Mephisto and a motley crew it was T-Rex clubbing him in the skull. And endless cycle that had plagued his career… Zex rises and some douchebag will attack him…

He smiles to himself, he’s not sure why…Hell, he’s even laughing a little at the thought of it all…And then it hit him, the answer to his musings. Whether they know it or not; Anarchy had done him a favour.

He now knew what to expect from them, knew that their brand of comedy or playfulness was merely a front for the Douchbaggery within.

He also knew that he’d taken their best shot and despite being laid out cold; he survived, he got back up and had dusted himself down… A notion that reminded him of something he said to his mother when he was a child…

His childhood home was situated at the top of a steep hill, the road surrounded by one story ranch houses and parked cars on either side of the asphalt. When he stood at his front door and looked forward, it felt like he was looking down at giant’s waterslide...And he knew he’d simply have to skate it.

One unusually quiet morning, he and his brother were skating around the top of the hill and Zex felt pretty confident with his ability, he’d mastered both the Ollie and Kickflip and was tempted to try and leap the stairwell at school…But not as tempted as he was to ride this hill, to go as fast as he possibly could, to feel the wind whoosh through his hair and to watch the parked cars wiz by.

And so, he turned to his older brother and said “Hey Bobby…Watch this!”

He pushed off the ground and rolled forward, glancing behind at Bobby’s dumbfounded face and flipped him the bird for good measure before beginning his descent. It didn’t take long for him to pick up speed, mere seconds if he were counting…But he wasn’t, the thrill of the speed and the rhythmic flapping of his baggy Ninja Turtles T-Shirt against his skin seemed to have put him in a trance.

In that moment Zex felt invincible, even to this day he still cannot understand what happened next…Or why he closed his eyes to begin with? it was in that moment, with eyes closed gently that something crashed into his legs, hitting him around the shins and sending him hurtling off of his Skateboard and into the air. As Zex remembers this now, it’s like suspended animation and he can almost see his skinny eleven year old body floating through the air like Christopher Reeve in Superman.

He thought he was going to die…But instead found himself landing…No…buried in the back of his neighbour Mr Thomson’s pick-up truck, smothered in leaves, branches, mud and what smelt a hell of a lot like dog shit. A young Zex just laid there, unable to speak, winded by what felt like a tree stump resting against is stomach. Thorns had ripped his skin on his arms and legs and he could tell that his T-Shirt and shorts were ruined.

Later; once his brother had snitched to their mother…She gave him a stern telling off adding the words “YOU COULD HAVE DIED!”

He smirked in his seated position in the car, just as he had back then…

Zex: Yeah…But I didn’t. *He said, reciting his famous old lines once again.*

He had been this way ever since; Leaping off ladders, throwing himself over balcony edges, dangling from stage trussing… “You could have died!” friends had screamed at him just like his mother…And his answer never changed…In all those years.

He knew now what he needed to do in his next match, a match that pitted himself, Omar Owens and SHOOT Project Heavyweight Champion Maya Nakashima; against Anarchy and Number One Contender Loco Martinez; Zex needed to defy death one more time.

It was here, as his confidence and swagger slowly returned like a rush of blood that his phone began to buzz and light up from it’s dock near the gear stick; reading the name “Maya.”



There was a time when Maya would have been deeply troubled by fighting Loco and ANARCHY, it would have cut him to his core to have to take up arms against them. It wasn't that he thought they couldn't have a good fight, winning the SHOOT Project World Title against Loco was one of his fondest memories because it was with Loco. But it was like fighting his brother, as amazing as the match would be... who enjoys fighting their own blood?

But now, it didn't feel like that.

Somewhere along the line the bond of brotherhood he thought he had with Loco was shattered to pieces. With everything Maya knew, KNEW, that Loco had done to him these past few months... there would be no sympathy for Loco at the end of the fight. There would be no shaking hands and hugging it out as brothers would. This would not end with smiles and a Kodak moment.

Whether Loco liked it or not, it would end the same way it WILL end at Master of the Mat.

With Maya standing tall, still champion.

Maya took another long drag from his cigarette, he could feel droplets of rain start to cascade on him. He saw some people in the streets start to run for shelter. Maya was never really one of those people, he liked the rain. Something about the smell of it and coolness that followed always brought him comfort.

Sometimes he wished it would never stop raining.

He flipped out his phone and looked at the numbers in his address book, Zex had been in there ever since their first fight together. Zex had taken Maya to a limit he didn't even know he had and made Maya move a finisher he wasn't even sure he could execute. He knew that with Zex and Omar he'd have partners he could rely on, that wouldn't stab him in the back, but now... now he worried that he was dragging Zex and Omar into his problems. Worried that somewhere down the line Loco would book them in a 10-on-2 handicap match to send Maya a message.

Maya sighed and clicked on Zex's name and waited for an answer.


O2


The “vintage” Mazda Protégé that recently came into the SHOOT zeitgeist as Freak Nasty 1’s pride and joy is making its way down a street set back from Las Vegas Boulevard.  Despite having been in Vegas for a few months now, our heroes Omar and Freak still use the strip as their compass when trying to get around, despite being told numerous times that the locals never venture towards the tourist traps.  Intensity seems to be the theme of the week and the atmosphere is no different inside this car, at least on the part of Freak, who seems obsessed with his phone right now.  He’s intently pushing buttons with an air of frustration, obviously failing to accomplish whatever it is he has set out to do on it.  Omar, for his part, doesn’t seem to have a dark cloud hanging over him, as his other friends do.

O2:  This whole time, I kinda thought Maya was overreacting to Loco.  I’ve seen it a thousand times in this business where all the cards line up to make you think one thing and then *BAM* you find out your preconceived notions were wrong all the time.

The car rolls down the road at a reasonable pace, the hot midday sun counteracted by the comfortable climate control of the car.  The even-keeled Omar seems unaffected by the chairshot he received at the hands of Anarchy at Revolution just a few short days ago, both physically and mentally.

O2: But with the way Anarchy just snapped and ruined a perfectly good match really makes you wonder.  The three of them are pretty good buds, but I just don’t get what the payoff was.  They were pretending to be bastions of truth, justice, and the American way for so long just to lay Zex and me out with chairs in our first ever meeting with them?

Whether that question was rhetorical or not, Omar is not getting a response from Freak, who still is fiddling with his phone, muttering coarse language under his breath.

O2:  And what was the point of taking so much time off to work their way down to fighting shape if they were just going to use chairs?  Fat guys can swing chairs just fine.

FN1:  This damn thing.  I can never figure out the 3-way calling…

As if on queue, Zex’s voice can be heard emanating from the speaker of the phone, but he’s not speaking to Omar and Freak.  He seems to be speaking to someone else and it’s quickly apparent to whom he’s talking by the responding voice, which happens to belong to SHOOT World Champion Maya Nakashima

Maya: Hey, I... umm... look I'm sorry to bother you at this hour, I just... needed to talk, I guess.

Maya lets the smoke seep from his lungs and out through his teeth, like a long sigh that never ends and tastes like  wood fire. He sometimes questioned why he ever quit.

Maya: Look, I know doing this sorta thing over the phone is informal I just... my head is all over the place right now and I feel like I don't know what I'm doing anymore. Everything that's happened with Loco, I wish it would all just go away and none of us would have to deal with any of it. But that's a childish mindset, naive, and... I know I'll have to face him sooner or later.

Maya heaves out another cloud of smoke, this time through his nostrils... it felt like it was a cloud coming from his head.

Maya: Listen, when we do our thing at Revolution... just leave Loco to me. These last few months he's tried to take everything I love from me; My health, my career, and my title. He's sent every thug he could muster at me, even his own boys in ANARCHY. He took everything I trusted about him and threw it out the damn window for a chance at what I had... to become the man I am now.

Maya shouts at the top of his lungs into the cold night air, little droplets of rain drip drop into his mouth and taste like nothing. He tries to take another drag, but the rain stamped out his light. He let out a rare curse as he flung the cigarette butt into a puddle, watching it shrivel up.

Maya: Sorry... I just...

Maya lets out a heavy sigh, hoping for the calming fire in his lungs... but his mouth just drips rain drops.

Maya:I want to be the one to put him down, you know? I know that sounds hideous and grotesque, but I want to be the one that lays him down on the canvas and knocks him out. Because of everything we've been through and everything I thought our friendship meant... it's gotta be me... I have to do it. I can't put that burden on you guys.

Back in the car, Freak holds the phone away at arm’s length and grimaces after the pained howl from Maya.

FN1: Damn, Maya…Get control of yourself.

O2:  No, it’s all right.  I’ve been where he is before.  I’ve had people I’ve trusted completely turn their backs on me…or worse, turn their teeth on me.  Sometimes you get so twisted inside that all you can do is scream.
   
FN1:  I remember those nights.  I could hear you through the walls.  That was before Beats by Dre had been invented.  If I had mine back then, I could’ve put them on and drowned you out.

O2:  Listen, Maya, you shouldn’t feel like you dragged Zex and me into anything.  We have our sights set on those tag titles and making the tag division in SHOOT prestigious again.  The only way to do that is to go through Anarchy and after last week, we’ve got our own bone to pick with them.  But, I have to say, only in an ideal world would Zex and I get a chance at Anarchy and you get Loco all to yourself.  It’s going to get messy and there’s no telling who’s going to be there to take the final shot.  If it’s there for me and Loco happens to be the man in my way, I won’t hesitate to take it.  Nothing against you, but you’ll have your chance at Master of the Mat.  Zex and I don’t know if we’ll get another chance to prove we belong with the elite tag teams in SHOOT.

FN1:  And I’m sure Zex feels the same way.

O2:  Besides, you never know what else Loco has planned.  You might end up being really happy Zex and I are there to help you out of a situation where the odds are stacked against you.  It’s happened before, remember?

Maya's stomach churns just thinking about what that could entail, with all the handicaps matches he's been put in lately... what if Loco goes for that play again? What if Loco sends another ten man armada down for the three of them? Maya rests his palm against his forehead.

Maya:] Listen to me, if it comes to that... if this is all just Loco looking to get me into a ring so he can send out another squad of men... maybe I'm just being paranoid, maybe nothing will come of it. If it's just us against them then we'll fight with everything we've got. I have no doubt you'll prove to the world that you're serious contenders for the tag team titles. We'll fight, just like you said, with whoever we're in there with. If I get Loco, great, if not... it's whatever, I still owe ANARCHY for the 2-on-1 match. But listen to me, and I'm being serious, if this thing turns upside down and it's just a way for Loco to get me in the ring... to make me a target for another onslaught from ten guys, where you two are just collateral damage to him?

Maya pauses for a moment, knowing it was possible, he just sort of listens to the raindrops trickle on his head.

Maya: Don't stay there for me.

Before anything can be said in response, Maya continues.

Maya: You both get out of there as fast as you can, do you hear me? I'm a big boy, SHOOT Project World Champion, I can take care of myself. But I will be damned if I endanger your future, the brightest of futures, because Loco painted a target on my back. If it's a fair fight there aren't any other guys I'd rather have on my side... but if it hits the fan and this is turns into lambs to the slaughter?

Maya takes a deep breath.

Maya: Don't stay for me.

Zex had been quite, quieter than usual, partly due to his current feelings, a lot to do with his late night drive and maybe, just maybe the hot chick on the roadside had caught his eye.

Despite these distractions he had been listening to his partners; he wanted to get a feel of what this team’s mind set was, soak in their opinions and allow their emotions to fill his mind…Simply waiting for the right time to speak or at the very least, find the right words to say.

The sound of his music quietens and he clears his throat.

Zex: I’ve always liked that about you Maya, your ability to empathize with those around you, from everyone in the locker room to the fans at ringside or watching at home.

He pauses for a moment the lyrics “And when your tears fall…You never really see them when they hit the ground” fill the airwaves in his absence.

Zex I’ve known Omar, for what? Ten years now?

Omar agrees with a simple “About that” as The Artist continues.

Zex: We couldn’t just leave you there man. Not just you…We couldn’t leave anyone there like that, you know? I couldn’t live with myself if I saved my own ass and watched you burn. I feel the way you do, I’d rather sacrifice myself to save someone else. Hell, I’ve sacrificed myself for a lot less.

He chuckles.

Zex: Times like this, they are trying…Fuck. They suck, man. But how you deal with them and whose by your side you when you do, it defines you more than their antagonistic actions. If we stay focused, we’ll get there man. I believe in you, I believe in Omar and I believe in myself.

He can hear the crack in Maya’s voice, as if he is about to speak up.

Zex I guess. What I’m trying to say is, man. We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. And, you know? I go down swinging, always have.

Maya just looks straight up at the dark clouds hanging above him, drenching him.

Maya: Look, I appreciate you saying that and I know you mean what you say, that you'd stay there and fight for me, regardless of the odds. God knows I hope that doesn't happen and God knows I hope that it's just a clean fight. We all get what we want, the fans get a match they'll never forget, and nothing comes of it. I hope we can go out there and have a match that sends up soaring into Master of the Mat, where I can finally put Loco in his place.

The bitter cold of the rain makes Maya's breathing visible, like a hazy mist.

Maya: But if it isn't, then I'm telling you, don't let some heroic bravado or honor code ruin your lives. SHOOT Project needs people like you, SHOOT Project needs people to stand up for her in the future and that can't happen  if you go down swinging in a fight you can't win.

Maya shakes his head, hesitant and nervous.

Maya: I won't say it again, if this devolves into some sort of plot for Loco to try to brutalize me with another onslaught... I'm not going to put you two in that position. You don't stay for me, you get out through the crowd as fast as you can and you live to fight another day, you hear me?

Maya closes his eyes.

Maya: You saves yourselves and you leave me, period.

Maya clicks off the phone before another word of argument can be spoken…

Back in his car, The Artist looks down at his phone; the glow slowly dying as his song comes to an end. He looks up to the road, the rain that had been falling on the SHOOT Project Heavyweight Champion has now found it’s way to him…

Fin.



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