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"Of Meaningless Insects and Men"; Global Tag-Title Three Way Dance RP
Topic Started: Aug 27 2010, 05:53 AM (130 Views)
xShanex
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I usually don't do this. I usually don't go on about my life. explaining every little detail in a third-person view like some dark movie in theaters, but I feel I don't really have a choice. There's no other option I have that can help me describe to you the emotions, the scenes playing in my head than by telling you myself. So I'm going to join the club for this one presentation, and show you my world through my eyes. This is my story, so listen up. I won't repeat myself.

August Twenty-Second, Two-Thousand-Ten, Chicago, Illinois. I felt like I was just in a car crash on the highway. Every inch of my body seemed to be injured in some way or form. I had more bruises covering my body than I had ever had in one time before. The skin on my face and chest had been stained a very fine light red thanks to the blood that ran like water through a crack in a shattered dam holding back a river from the gash in my forehead. Well, to be honest there were multiple lacerations, each one unique in their size and shape, depth and width, but with their spacing and just the way some of them connected with each other, it might as well have been one wound. I thought I was flail-chested. Figured my rib cage had imploded, and within moments I'd take my last breath staring up at the ceiling in the United center. Lucky me, Kerosene's stomp hit me lower in the "guts" so to speak, which was better. I wasn't going to die, but saying that this pain felt better than death would be like saying having a peg-leg is better than having no legs at all. Now any other man, a "normal" man as they would be called, would be crying on the floor. They would be laying in the emergency room in the local hospital, tears welling up in their ducts, praying to whatever god they saw fit to end the pain. I welcomed it. I'm not a "normal" man, we aren't "normal" men. This pain was a small price to pay for the prize we had won that night. It was a pleasureable pain, a..............

A Beautiful Agony, if you will? Hahaha, enough of that though. I stood there in the empty space infront of the mirror that they had placed in every dressing room in the Center, thinking about the events of the day, and their weight they had in changing my life, in changing CZW for the better. The guys had all left, out to whatever they had planned for the night. Jacob and Lauren left almost immediately after the match, probably going out to celebrate in their own way, and why shouldn't they? Jake had just ended a chapter in his life, he found some closure to a challenge life had thrown at him, and that's something we all want in the end, isn't it? I may not see eye to eye with the guy, but if anyone understood the issues jacob had gone through in his life, it was me. I had hoped he was having the time of his life, because he deserved it. He had slayed one of his demons, only wished it was that easy for me, but I came to grips that one victory wouldn't make my past go away. Brian and Mike had left a half-hour earlier. Brian and I met up with Mike back at the locker room, Amber and Britt too. Mike congratulated us for the victory, big smile on his face. He wasn't in the match, but that match mattered just as much to him as it did to us. I never was a close friend with Mike, at one time I couldn't stand the guy, but we all kinda grew closer to each other through this war. We were allies before, but now we were friends. I thanked him, as did Kirkland, then I gave him my congrats on his Intercontinental Title defense. I told him Kimo was a douchebag no matter what "character" he sold, and we all shared a laugh. I would've laughed at that even if I was by myself, I hate Kimo, but I guess you didn't need me to tell you that. Crucifixion did a pretty good job of that earlier this year.

The laughter died down, and as if Mike had just sprung back to life, he extended another congratulations. I had no idea what he was talking about, and asked him what he meant. He informed Brian and Myself that we were added to the Global Tag-Team Championship Three Way Dance at the next Overdrive. Brian seemed estatic in his own way, that smirk creeping onto his face as he and I high-fived. He couldn't have been happier, that night he had grabbed his revenge on those bastards that left him behind, and in the next match, he could add another championship to the list he had been building long before I even showed up in CZW. I could've cared less. This was no shock to be. Of course we were in the match, why wouldn't we be? We had just ripped the champions apart like a wolf pack on an unsuspecting deer, and I've defeated every man in that match except for Joshua Newsome, who I have yet to face. Didn't matter, I didn't care who I was facing. I never had, and never will. Every week I step into the ring with the same faceless victim as the week before, I do my job, and I leave with another pointless victory. This wasn't my receiving a gift, it was getting what I deserved. The group left, Brian told me to call him when I left so I could meet up with them for our celebration dinner. Sounded good to me, and then they disappeared down the hallway, probably heading for the trainer's office.

I decided that I would take a little time to myself. Enjoy the peace and prvacy by continuing my game in Monster Hunter Freedom Unite. I just can't seem to put that PSP down, and I had just forged a new Great Sword, so I wanted to test that bad boy out. A few moments passed by and then the call came. Knox was just as happy as we were, maybe even more so. It was good to hear from him, hadn't seen him since.......well, you know. He told me my new gear was awesome looking, said that the Limit Breaker looked as beautiful in the ring as we had thought when developing it over sessions of Xbox Live. He said to get the 360 hooked up in the Hotel room later, and that Modern Warfare 2 would be waiting. That was going to be my night ender, so I told him I'd let him go, and talk to him later that night.

Guess it was time to get changed into what people outside of the game would call my "Street Clothing". Jeans bored me, so it was time for my Camo cargo shorts, which I hadn't worn since I debuted in CZW a year ago, and what a year it had been. Add that with a black "YA" t-shirt and a fitted August Burns Red cap backwards on my head, and you had the outfit. I turned on my iPod, blasting The Rolling Stones. I finished up combing my hair back so the trainer wouldn't have to work around it so much, that and I was leaving on my bike, full-faced motorcycle helmet plus open wounds never equaled fun. Let's face it, after that fight, if I didn't think I needed stitches I'd be a fool. That's when it all hit me. Every moment from my joining of Youthful Aggression to right then in there crashed into my heart like a Bullet. I did it, we did it. We went from a rag-tag nobody name in this company to the most dominate group they had to offer. In fact, we were the last faction remaining in the group, unless you consider the Fiscus clan a "Faction". Hahaha, Fiscus, talk about poetic justice, but that would be a story for another time. I realized that I was exactly what Kirkland had called me earlier this year, "The deadliest member of Youthful Aggression", and where we stood in the rankings now, that meant a lot. Ten minutes passed by and I eventually snapped out of my hypnotic state. I turned the music off, tossing it in my bag and clicked on my Droid, leaving the room and heading the the trainer while getting the details of our victory celebration from Kirkland.

Time passed by and I had arrived at the location at about 11:43 P.M.. Olive Garden never matched up as a fine dining experience but with the money that we had on us and the hunger from a long night of fighting and victory, a Big Mac could grab five stars from me. I found a parking spot relatively easy, right up in the front so none of these night walkers in this hole of a city would touch my NINJA 250R. It took a big chunk of my pay, that's my mode of travel, and my baby..........next to Selena of course, who had left with the rest of the group earlier on my own request. I didn't want her to see me all ripped up like I was. I walked in, helmet in hand, and asked the hostess where the "Kirkland" party was at, and she escorted me there with a smile. Everyone looked great, dressed to impress I would say. I felt a little out of place, and laughed about it as I sat down next to Selena. The waitress had come over as soon as I sat down and asked us if we'd like to sample their wine of the day. A few evil eyes sent the hint her way that there would be now drinking here, but to save myself from eating body fluids, I told her no with a smile. Tonight wasn't about hate anymore, it was about having fun after the work had been finished. Soup and Salad was a nice touch,and I never saw any of these guys happier. Selena looked gorgeous, I felt great, life was good for at least this one moment. Then I heard it. My name was called.

My silence had to be broken, as I looked up to make eye contact with Brian Kirkland, the man who had scouted me outside of CZW to join his reincarnation of his group, the man who was the reason I was in CZW to begin with. Brian went on to tell me that he made a great choice by picking me to join YA, and that they couldn't have done this with out me. He then raised his glass of water, as did the rest of the table, smiles on their faces, declaring a toast to not only my full-fledge membership of Youthful Aggression, but to our bright future in CZW. The feeling was amazing. I always thought, no matter who I beat, that I was just one of the lackies, one of the muscle to the higher-ups, but now to know that I was seen by the founders, Mike and Brian, as an equal.........that may have been even better than the victory at Hatewave. I was speechless, but in my soul a fire ignited. I was a member of Youthful Aggression, an elite in the Straight Edge movement! From this point on, my force would be doubled, my drive tripled! I wouldn't stop until the entire wrestling world belonged to me, and I would die before I admitted defeat.

Time flies when you're having fun, eh? The meal was over, Mike and Amber had headed off for the night and myself, Selena, Brian and Britt all had decided to head outside for a bit of light conversation before going back to the hotel. The girls went over to one side, I couldn't hear what they were talking about, but Kirkland and I had gone off on how the night had turned out amazing.

"I knew it would. People aren't going to like the change but they'll get used to it. It's tough love, man. There's the symbolism in all of this. Those guys represented everything wrong in the world, and we defeated them with our superior way of life. There's no more reason to explain ourselves, those who don't see it.....well they're just stupid."

Brian agreed, but even he knew there was work to be done. The world isn't going to change itself, and with Beautiful agony out of the way, we could focus on our one main goal, That was until he brought up the factor I wasn't really paying attention to. He asked me what I thought about this "Damage Control" cocept the owner of the company had placed at Hatewave.

"I couldn't care less. Derek Damage is just another zombie waiting to get sent back to the grave. Just give it time, dude, this whole whacked-out idea will come around and bite him in the senial ass."

He asked me if I was worried. Yeah, I was shaking in my god damn boots. I didn't care, I never did. Let the guy take his ragerection and fuck CZW, I'll sit on the sidelines and watch until I can safely continue on my way.

"Hell no. You have to lose to get fired, and I don't know about you Brian, but I haven't really been doing a lot of losing recently. I'd be shocked if I even was put into one of these Damage Control matches, I'm sure Damage knows where his assets are.......and that I carry a Railroad Spike with me at all times, I'm sure that has an edge."

We both laughed, can't believe that joke even got a chuckle. Well, it wasn't a joke, just kind of a strange reality. I checked my watch, saw that sun rise would most likely be hitting in a few hours, so I wanted to get some sleep. Plus I couldn't leave Knox waiting, his mom was probably eating the end of one of his Pancake-fueled tantrums. I was about to leave, then I got another question thrown my way. Brian asked me what I thought of the Tag-title match, and what it could do for YA.

"There's really nothing they won't do. Nice ego boost, nice raise in the paycheck, and a little gold never hurt. Personally, the money's what I like out of it. You can use whatever you get for YA, boost up the Facotry and all that."

Brian asked me what I would do with my cash, like some weird questioning a couple of High School buddies would ask out of sheer boredom. Heh, figured I'd play along.

"Me.......if I ever make it big, I'm buying a fur coat!"

We both laughed but I was dead serious. Something about those duds could make a homeless guy turn classy, and I had a sick design in mind. Some new shades too, the frosted look is cool and all but I had this thought of crosses in........naw you guys don't care. I had to go, it was getting way too late.

"Well Brian, it's been real, but I think I should head out."

I called Selena over, than shook Brian's hand.

"Congrats again, man, we did good tonight. Let's keep it up. Thanks again for everything."

The formalities were over, and both couples headed off in our own separate directions. I tossed Selena her helmet that I had placed In the saddle bags I installed on the bike. It looked weird for a crotch rocket like this but it helped. I went to get on the bike, but was stopped. Selena looked up at me with a gleam in her eye, and she stood up on her toes and gave me that kiss that was like a drug in and of itself to me. The moment had just gotten better, and now I had everything I ever wanted. Tomorrow was a new day, but the outcome would stay the same. Here is your winner, Ryan Shane.





Static took the screen, giving a somewhat nostalgic feeling to the video piece, like a style of taping long lost with the darkness in the world of Ryan Shane. The fleurry of electricity quickly disappeared, as a black screen took it's place. A flash crossed the screen, a symbol materializing behind it as if from thin air. As it finally appeared, we could tell that it was the brand new "RyStation" logo that had been created by Ryan Shane himself, a small group of people sing "Ry-Shane!" as it settled in on the screen. The graphic shattered, bringing us to a new location in the CZW Nation.

The back loading docks of the Acer Arena were pretty much abandoned, the need for shipment gone from the lack of a show booked that day. A few birds flew by overhead, chirping out a lovely song, perhaps about the blue skies and golden sun over Sydney, Australia. With the camera lowering from the heavens above to the concrete slab of nothing that was the loading docks, we come to find the man known as Ryan Shane, here for the Combat Zone Wrestling Australian Tour 2010, a great big deal in the world of Professional wrestling as a whole.

Ryan say on the edge of one of the docks themselves, one leg swinging down over the edge, the other resting in an arch on the edge. A pair of black shades, "frosted" with the "YA" logo on the right lens blocked out the rays from the earlier mentioned sun, a black and red CZW T-shirt and black basketball shorts covering his body. In his right hand, Ryan held a bottle of Aquafina Spring Water, a little something to null the sweltering heat. Ryan took a drink from his bottle before twisting the cap back on it and smacking his lips with a sense of satisfaction a drink of water can give.

"G'day Mates! What, too obvious? I can't help it, that's what you'd expect from this world tour right? I bet you were as excited as I was to get here! I thought "Man, I've never been to Australia before, this trip may be the best trip of my life". That was BEFORE I left for the trip. I don't even know how long I was on the god damn plane, but it felt like a freakin' eternity! Then we finally land after like seventeen hours of a baby crying into my ear because some CEO mom decided to bring her baby on first class with her, I tried to look on the brighter side of things. I've done my research about the Outback, the seemingly endless brutal, strangely beautiful terrain! I couldn't wait to see it, but then I get off the plane and get my first look of Sydney........AND IT LOOKS THE SAME AS CHICAGO DID! I flew for nearly a day straight so I could see the same fucking buildings and the same ugly ass people I could've seen if I would've stayed in the States. The only differences, people in chicago didn't have an accent that made me want to kill myself! But no,no,no,no,no,no, I keep trying to see the bright side, so I figured maybe CZW pulled a rabbit out of the hat, and my first match here in the land down under, where it should stay by the way, would be a winner. You would by right if you guessed I was pumped when I heard that I was getting a title shot! It was about damn time I got another one, I mean what, I've only lost like....”

*Ryan looked up, counting on his fingers while he calculated the numbers in his head.*

"Five times in a year! It was about time I got what I deserved! I was begging for the knowledge of who I was facing! Was it Krimzon Blaze for that Television Title, was it Buzzsaw for the ultraviolent, maybe, just maybe, even "The Shadow" Mortius for the greatest test of my strength and ability!"

*Ryan's fake enthusiasm disappeared faster than a virginity at a whore house. His fake smile reducing to dead level lips, the gleam in his eye leaving behind a cold stare behind the shades he shielded them behind.*

"But no. Not only do I not have my own personal title match, but Derek Damage has decided to place Brian Kirkland and Myself, the Y fuckin' A, World Class atheletes in our own rights against the team we ALREADY beat just last week, and two guys who look like they keep a summer home in a trailer park! Why does YA seem to be out of place in this match? Is it our boyish good looks? Well of course but that was already said, is it our superior talent in the ring, yet again, yes, but to hit the nail on the head, the answer is we were the ONLY men in this match to walk out of Hatewave with a victory! Hatewave, the biggest night in the CZW year, and only Kirkland and I could man up enough to get the job done on the greatest night of them all? It's rediculous! Maybe D-Double brought this Damage Control thing in at the right time, because it seems we have some loose ends we need to remove!"

*Ryan ripped the shades off of his face and slammed them down on the ground next to him, a slight force shy of breaking them. It was obvious by reading his body language that this title shot, that some would see as a great honor, he saw as an insult. Ryan's glare into the camera sealed the knowledge that he was at the end of his rope.*

"I can't escape it though. I can't run from the fact that you idiots who make CZW Overdrive the powerhouse that it is demand to see this abominations of nature! It's air feeders like the people who run the Showtime network that put nobodies like these guys in with top-notch competitors like me to give them a push as we call it in the game! Guys like.......guys like Tim Timmons! Ahhhhh, I die a little inside whenever I say his name, because the fact that this functioning retard even has a job still blows my mind! Who did he have to blow to get this title shot?!?! Why is he in this match?!?! "Hey, congrats on losing........again Tim, here's a title shot!" I've said Title over ten times in this video, and I bet Tim still has no idea this is a championship match! How many times do I have to beat you, Timmons, before you stay the hell out of my life? I guess losing to me in one title match wasn't enough, so perhaps after two you'll get the picture? Got it corky? Now let's disect another man who I don't really know too well, and that's Josh Newsome. Joshua, you and I, we're not really the same, are we? I'm a young, high-flying pretty boy from Las Vegas and you, you're a big bruiser with a ZZ Top tribute on your face! Now I'm not knocking your talent, you may not be victorious as often as logic says you should be, but give it time, I could see you tearing CZW apart. Only problem is you have a big, dumb anchor tied to your leg named Tim Timmons. Maybe after I smack you to the ground, you'll realize the wrong you've made and correct it? You see, Josh, I know you have potential because we both go to the same place to do our favorite hobbies, a small cottage in the woods, but while you go out and whistle while you work while chopping down trees and eating flapjacks, I, on the other hand, escape to that little shack to build bombs out of household appliances and mail them to all of your kids with big bows of them for their birthdays! That's exactly what I'm doing at Overdrive, I'm dropping the bomb, blowing the roof off of the Acer Arena, and when the dust settles, I'll be standing tall, like I always do, while those who stand in my way are burned to cinders on the mat!"

*Ryan adjusted himself over so both of his legs fell over th edge, his body now facing forward to the camera. A laugh escaped his lips, only one. Nothing was funny, it was just reality settling in. He shook his head as if he was amused by a bad joke, then continued.*

"Then we have my favorites, The Spectacle. Brian Blaze and Johnny Kerosene. How ya feelin' boys? How's your foreheads doing? I know mine hurts like hell thanks to being grated like cheese by Kerosene, and I guess you can brag about that Johnathan, being the man that made Ryan Shane bleed, but I got ya beat. Normally when someone hears that they're going against an undefeated tag-team, they'd be worried. Not me, because every threat The Spectacle can throw out is immediately dismissed because as of last night, I know I'm better than them! Johnny made me bleed, sure, but did you watch the match, I sliced ALL THREE OF THEM OPEN! Want to make a joke boys, here's my joke. What's purple, black, red, yellow, and deader than Owen Hart? Beautiful Agony! That's all I need, kids, all I need to help me sleep at night is the fact that I helped kill a staple in this company and brought the CZW Nation one step closer to a better lifestyle, but right now, this week, this isn't about Youthful Aggression. This is about me. I'm the kind of guy that holds a grudge, and Brian Blaze, Kerosene, you two are the targets of the biggest grudge I have! Don't think I forgot that it was you that ruined my perfect record! Two loses are a result of some bullshit tactic by Blaze, and I'm not finished with you yet! Blood was spilled, I killed your "family", crushed all of your friends, and that's just the tip of the iceberg you're about to crash into! Tell me! Tell me everything you love and cherish in this world so I can destroy it and take it from you! Everything you hold dear is going be lost in a hail of gunfire and anarchy! First it was you faction, now it's going to be your Tag-Team championships and YOUR undefeated streak! Eye for an Eye, Tooth for a Tooth, Blood for Blood, Streak for Streak!"

*Emotions raged through Ryan's mind like a bull trying to gore a Matador with a vengeance. A simply stare into his eyes could tell that the wise cracking, layed back RyShane that had come to the fore front of CZW within the last few weeks had been put away for this one match, and that The Spectacle and The Next Generation were the latest victim of a caniverous, pissed off "Curse".*

"I have a name to live up to. I have a seat of power in the power of CZW, and a rank I need to uphold, and to do so, I need to destroy you. All four of you. The Global Tag-Team Championships, their just a nice addition to the Youthful Aggression crown jewels, a fashion accessory to say the most. They mean nothing to me, but to know that taking them would be one step closer to the destruction of the ignorant masses in CZW is more than a prize for me! Hatewave, it may have ended the war, but my issues are not solved. I am the cancer in your brain, the gangreen eating your flesh from the inside out until I eventually consume you, but I won't stop there! I'll eat your soul! Two entities will be cast down into the graves this month, one being that abortion Beautiful Agony, the second it's bastard child The Spectacle! Youthful Aggression will show now tolerance, we will show no mercy! We may not have the belts, but you four, you're the real challengers in this match! You wanna know why? Well I'll tell you why."

*Ryan laughed a bit more before instantly reverting back to the blood thirsty animal he had become in the early wake of this match, his eyes going wild like a mad dog on the hunt, chomping at the throat of it's prey to end it's suffering.*

"WE ARE STRAIGHT EDGE! WE ARE YOUTHFUL AGGRESSION, and after Overdive, we'll be the NEW CZW GLOBAL TAG-TEAM CHAMPIONS.........AND WE'RE BETTER THAN YOU!"

*Ryan slammed his fist down on the cement he sat on in a mixture of anger and adrenaline before jumping off of the edge and walking off-screen to god knows where. The camera, with nothing else to focus on, slowly zoomed out before fading and reducing to a pitch black.*
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