| Pure Sickness; feat. Maggie McIntyre & Erik Draven | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jun 7 2016, 01:55 PM (25 Views) | |
| Michael Draven | Jun 7 2016, 01:55 PM Post #1 |
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EWA Minority Owner
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i can see inside you the sickness is rising don't try to deny what you feel it seems that all that was good has died and is decaying Monday, June 6, 2016, 5:49PM Boston, MA It had been a stressful seven days since Battlelines XIII. Maggie had been in a daze for most of the time since the event in Cleveland. Alyssa Marie Haven had made a grand return to her life, re-injuring Maggie's knee shortly before her match - thankfully, Doc Furman had examined it and decided it was just some swelling, and would heal with ice and rest. So Maggie had went on to face her fear. The Stranger. Indrid Calder. Michael Draven had done as she'd requested, and stayed in the back - though it killed him to watch Calder slither all over her like some sort of demonic serpent, lathering her with his filthy presence. When HATE had shown up, preparing to take Maggie with them, that was the final straw. He'd rushed out to the ring, only to be ambushed from behind - and now, he was teaming with Willmott against Crippler and Robertson at Battlelines XIV. Clever match, courtesy of Stacy Vandervort, who was faring rather nicely in her new role. Still...Maggie had faced her fear. She'd emerged on the other side, more or less okay... ...so why was she so damned silent? She'd barely spoken over the last week. To her credit, he hadn’t been around much, as he’d been extremely busy at the office - the logistics of putting a show on in Tokyo were maddening, and he, Erik and Stacy had all been putting in large amounts of extra time setting in stone all of the details for the huge one-night-only show in August.. Plus, there was the matter of finalizing the 25% pay increases he'd granted Alexander Haven and Chris Kage shortly before the Cleveland Battlelines.. All part of the plan. He pulled his new burnt orange and black Indian Chief motorcycle into the parking spot in front of his condo. He'd purchased it last week on a whim, after telling Maggie about the one he had when he wrestled in New York fifteen years ago. She'd urged him to go get one, recognizing his love for the open road and encouraging him to recapture that sense of joy. "Besides, you can take me for rides. It'll be fun, Mike. It's okay to have a little fun now and then." It was one of the few moments she’d seemed like herself over the past week. When she was like that...she was perfection, a ray of sunshine in an otherwise gloomy life he’d led.. He dismounted, walking up the steps with the folder containing Haven and Kage's new contracts in hand. The office fax machine was down - again - he'd figured he'd pick Maggie up, and they could ride together to find a fax machine somewhere, to send copies over to the Youth's attorney. All part of the plan. He quickly climbed the steps, unlocking the door and stepping into the living room…. ...and dropped the folder, keys and his helmet on the floor where he stood, as he saw the horror that awaited him. On his brand new enormous flat screen in stunning high definition she watched herself dancing with Calder during their match at Battlelines. Maggie could only sit there, shaking with rage at the images. Unconscious, held against him ever so gently while he whirled her around the ring like a nervous debutante at her first ball to music only he could hear. She didn’t even hear the door open. Maggie didn’t know why this always happened to her, but she knew she’d lost. Because he wasn’t there. He could have-- He was here. The rookie didn’t care. She could only watch, spellbound and brewing to the brim with hatred for the man who called himself Indrid Calder. “...Maggie?” He quickly crossed the room, crouching down next to her, a blank expression on her face. “Talk to me, Maggie.” He had a right to be worried. She’d been here alone for over an hour, watching this shit again and again. Whatever Calder had done to crawl inside of her head had worked, there was no blocking him out now. Particularly as he’d beaten her senseless and left blood on her lips, marking her as his. His own special soul to torment. “You let him do that to me? How could you let him do that to me?” “I...what?” Michael was bewildered - she’d specifically made it clear to him to stay in the back. He’d done so, abiding by her wishes until NOTHING and Lunatikk Crippler had shown up - he wasn’t going to allow her to be triple teamed by HATE. “You said you’d protect me...let me fight on my own, but still protect me.” She couldn’t help the snarl in her tone. “He humiliated me...and so did you. Saying I needed you to look after me because I wasn’t used to this business. I may be a rookie, but I’m not a stupid one. I know what the goddamn business is like.” Maggie curled up on the sofa, retreating into herself. Perhaps it hadn’t been the best idea to move in with Michael after so short a time dating him. He stepped back from her in surprise. The question that Haines had asked him...she’d taken it a completely different way. “You’re joking, right? Is this about what I said to Allison Haines? Because I meant I should’ve ignored your request to stay backstage and been there, so that he couldn’t have done that to you. But I did what you asked me to do, which was let you fight your own battle. How can you be pissed at me for that?” He couldn’t believe what he was hearing from her. Calder was completely ingrained in her now, building a wall between the two of them. She didn’t dignify him with a response. Maggie simply pushed herself up from the couch and headed to the dining nook in his duplex. She couldn’t believe what he was saying. She couldn’t believe what had happened. It had been days ago, but Maggie could still taste Calder’s blood on her lips and it frightened the hell out of her. She gave a noise of frustration, feeling cooped up...trapped in a place she should feel safe. The rookie hadn’t felt safe in her old apartment anymore, that was the whole reason why she moved in here. Now it was-- She looked to the table, the manila envelopes there hadn’t been there before. The names...Chris Kage and Alexander Haven emblazoned across them. She opened up the first and quickly scanned through the top paper. A contract addendum, raising the bastard’s pay. “What the fuck is this?” Draven craned his neck to see what she was looking at. “Oh, that’s the paperwork for the contracts I have to fax over to Haven and Kage’s jackass of an attorney. I was going to see if you wanted to ride down with me to do that, since the fax machine at the office took a sh--” “You’re giving them raises?” She turned, raising an eyebrow. “These assholes keep trying to ruin your life and conspire with a psycho to drug me...and not to mention everyone else...and you’re giving them a raise?” “It’s not as it sounds, Maggie. It’s not like we’re rewarding them for their behavior. They had this clause in their contract that said if anyone was paid higher…” He trailed off, seeing her face darken with anger. “Besides, it actually worked out pretty well. You should’ve seen their faces when I agreed without any complaints, and bumped them 5% above what they were asking for. It definitely got into their heads, and --” “You’re not getting into their heads, Mike. All you’re doing is lining their wallets and rewarding assholes for being assholes.” She frowned, clenching her fist and pushing the folders back across the table. “You own the company, Mike. It’s not like you can’t just fire them.” She didn’t understand how he could do such a thing. Maggie didn’t understand why he couldn’t just let it go and fire them. He didn’t want to let go of his obsession with destroying the Havens, and through her own stupidity, she’d fallen in with it. Alyssa Marie considered her a target now, taking a tire iron to her knee. “His fucking psycho bitch wife took a tire iron to my knee twice...and you call giving them more money getting into their heads? I think you’re fucking delusional if you think you’ve got one over on them.” She shouldn’t be letting her temper loose on him like this, but she couldn’t help it. Maggie was upset and tired of the constant attacks. “You weren’t there, Maggie. You didn’t see it...you don’t know how they operate like I do. They’re not used to having mind games played with them - you saw how they reacted when you exposed Alyssa Marie’s pregnancy scheme. You turn the tables on them, that’s the way to beat him. And I probably could fire them, but that sort of defeats the whole point of what I’m doing, doesn’t it?” He couldn’t comprehend why she didn’t understand. He was closer to getting Haven back into the ring than ever before. Unless… ”Wait a minute. You don’t think I can beat him, do you?” “Straight up in the ring? Yeah, I do.” Maggie’s face crumpled then, pent up emotion pouring out as she turned back to him. “But you’ll never beat him at his own game, Mike. You’re not some cerebral assassin. If you really want to beat him? Fire him. Ignore him. Pretend he never existed, because as long as he’s a monster in your head...he’s got all the power over you that he needs.” "You should take your own advice, Maggie - that's exactly what you've let Calder do!" He regretted the remark instantly - he'd gotten louder than intended, and he could tell that his comment had cut her deeply. The rookie pushed past him, grabbing her jacket and keys before heading for the door. “I’m going to Albany for a few days. I’ll see you at the show.” “Maggie! Wait!” He called out to her, but she was out the door in a flash. He sighed, looking down at the contracts. She just didn’t understand how the game was played, and he wasn’t sure he could make her. She was living in fear of Calder, and that fear had blinded her from seeing the end game. "Well, this is an interesting scenario we've found ourselves in, gentlemen. It seems Stacy Vandervort's got a bit of creativity hidden up her sleeve. And no, before any of you - that includes you, Ray - decide to open your mouths and say it, I had no knowledge of this match prior to it being signed. That being said? I'm in a pretty pissed off mood, and since I can't take it out on the man that deserves the full force of my brutality, you'll all have to do nicely. Martin...this is just the first beating of two that you're going to receive at my hands. Frankly, I'm amazed that your father hasn't beaten the everloving shit out of you yet...but that's for another day. Today, I want to talk about the two veterans in this match...the two arch-rivals - or are they? Ray Willmott. I was honored back in November when you seemingly rose from the grave and appeared in the Manhattan Center in New York. As focused on Chris Kage as I was at the time, I could appreciate the return of one of professional wrestling's finest, especially when it was a man long since presumed dead by the world around him. You cowered away - out of necessity, perhaps, admittedly - but the allure of the ring brought you out of the shadows. You trained for a month, and at Champions Summit, you defeated me. You were the better man that night, and when I first heard about this tag team match, I was honored and thrilled at the thought of teaming up with you. And then I sat down, and started thinking about things. There's been many legendary chapters in the storied history of Ray Willmott, but right now, given the circumstances, one in particular stands out to me, Ray. The chapter of Pure Sickness. "Pure Sickness" Ray Willmott. A member of the organization known only as HATE. A few weeks ago, Ray, you accused Stacy of setting you up. Partnering you with NOTHING against Lunatikk Crippler and a mystery partner, who ended up being Indrid Calder. And Calder, don't think I've forgotten about you. After the shit you pulled with Maggie...you and I are nowhere near finished, Stranger. In any event, Ray...you were right. Not about Stacy setting you up, because really, why in the world would she care enough to do that? But you were right about NOTHING. He always has a plan, and the Three Pillars of HATE were formed that night. But what's more structurally sound than a triangle, Ray? A square. You have history with Prudence Collins. You have history with William West. And you have a history, often times not one of friendliness, with Michael Draven. I respect the man that I think you are, Ray. But if I'm wrong about you, and this is another HATE scheme...if you've somehow been indoctrinated? Then you and I are going to finish what was started in November. I don't want it to come to that, Ray, so you'd better come to Battlelines XIV with your head on straight. As for you, "William"... What's your role in all of this? Recruit Ray to HATE by way of extreme violence? Get to tag with your little buddy Martin once again? Have your ass handed to you by Michael Draven again? You and I have been around the block a few times before, Crip. You took a championship from me in New York. You've bounced around here in the EWA somewhat aimlessly, though, never quite able to recapture your glory. You had a one night stand of sorts with the Network Championship...and since then...nothing. But now, you've found your inner HATE once more. And suddenly, Lunatikk Crippler's been on a winning streak since Asylum de los Muertos. That streak stops here, West. I'm on a mission. I have one goal in life right now. Anyone that gets in my way on the path to that goal of mine? Collateral damage. Stay home, West. This isn't your fight. Your partner isn't even your friend, much less one of your three Pillars. Stay home, West. I won't be held responsible for my actions if you don't." Tuesday, June 7, 2016, 2:44PM Boston, MA Erik Draven had take a car service from his house to Boston. It would have been easier to drive on his own, but there was too much work to be done now and he needed the extra time to get these damn legal agreements sorted. They had a meeting with outside investors in two days for merchandising agreements and it was best if he was there in person. The limousine stopped just outside his brother’s duplex and he sighed. Michael never had a head for business, but he had been making more of an effort lately to take some of the burden off of Stacy. He’d even helped hire several new people for their executive assistant to help her in the running of the everyday tasks of the massive ship that is the EWA. He grabbed his briefcase, smiling as the chauffeur opened the door and hauled his massive frame out of the car. So many hours in a car always did tend to make him stiff. He rolled his shoulders before digging his keys out of his pocket and headed up the steps. Erik made his way inside, raising an eyebrow at the state of the place. His brother was never the cleanest person, but...this was ridiculous. Wasn’t Maggie helping to keep things clean? “Mikey?” He called out, knowing his little brother was somewhere around the house. Erik took a step forward, letting out a noise of frustration as he tripped over some stack of books. “Mikey, where the hell are you?” No response, but he could hear the faint sound...of a crowd cheering? Erik stepped over a pile of unfolded laundry in the hallway, making his way to the bedroom down the hall as the sound increased in volume. One step into the room revealed the source of the noise - Michael’s television, playing his match against Alexander Haven at Asylum de los Muertos. This was not going to be fun. Michael laid on the bed, a bottle of Jameson in his hand. At least two days of stubble growth on his face, Erik’s younger brother looked as though he hadn’t moved in days. Michael looked up, and smiled at Erik, a boyish grin that reminded him of a time long ago...a more innocent time, before their father had met his...end. “Hey, Erik! Look, look, see this part here!” Michael gestured haphazardly toward the screen, his arm shaking in the air. “This is where I could’ve won it, you see? How’s it going...big…” A loud belch from Michael, followed by a laugh. “...big broooother?” The elder Draven heaved another sigh, reaching over to snatch the bottle from his hand and take a swig himself. Just what he needed, a drunk Michael and an absent Maggie. He relished the smile on his little brother’s face, but there was business to attend to. They couldn’t afford this kind of shit right now. “Why didn’t you pick up the phone and why are you drunk at three in the afternoon?” Erik moved, settling down on the foot of the bed before snatching the remote to mute the television. “Where’s Maggie? We have an investor’s meeting day after tomorrow and I was hoping she would tag along with you to do a little meet and greet.” Michael began laughing, which only served to annoy Erik...until the younger Draven began to speak. “Why don’t you ask Indrid? That’s what she’s got on her mind these days, brother...Calder, Calder, CALDER. All my fault! Blame Michael, everyone else does, right? It’s the Draven way! Or something…” He reached his arm out for the bottle, but Erik didn’t budge. Sighing, Michael dropped the remote. “She left, Erik.” “She left?” Erik raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t like the rookie to just pick up and leave, though he knew she’d been having problems with The Stranger. The whole world knew that. “Calder terrifies her, of course he’ll almost constantly be on her mind. Not like it’s much different with you and Haven, the only difference is you’re not scared of him.” He put the bottle well out of reach and caught his brother’s eyes. Erik didn’t want Michael to be unhappy, they were the only family each other had left and he liked how happy and grounded Maggie kept him. “What did you say to her to make her leave?” The younger Draven shook his head quickly, trying to clear the haziness. He looked back up, meeting his older brother’s gaze. “I don’t know, Erik. All I know is I came home, she’s watching Calder dance with her on the TV at Battlelines, ranting about how I didn’t protect her. Even though she told me not to come out there.I tried to explain, then she saw Haven and Kage’s contracts and blew up. You know our hands were tied on that, they had the highest paid wrestler clause in the deals Gates signed them to, so we had to give in to their demands.” He nodded, they hadn’t had a choice in that matter. Still, it wasn’t like Maggie to just up and leave like this. Erik pursed his lips for a moment, letting the briefcase fall onto the floor as he stretched his arms. “Maybe she’s feeling overwhelmed, Mikey.” It wasn’t too hard to fathom. She was still a rookie in the business, despite having the family connections that she had. Calder was stalking her and doing everything in his power to get in her head and after the show, he had succeeded. That was evident now. “I mean, when you called me and told me you were moving her in because she didn’t feel safe at her old apartment...I could see the reasoning behind it, but I told you it wasn’t the brightest move.” He reached over, squeezing his brother’s hand supportively for a brief moment before letting him go. “You guys have been through hell in the last six months and then she moves in and--” Erik made the decision then. “Give her some space until at least after the show. She’s not booked, so I’ll tell her to stay home. I’ll go talk to her, see if I can’t help in some way. I don’t want to see either of you this damn unhappy, you’re perfect for each other.” “Erik, you don’t need to get involved in th--” “No, Mikey, it’s all right. I’m willing to get involved in a few things on your behalf, especially like this. You’re my baby brother. You talked me into starting up this goddamn company again, I can at least talk to your girlfriend and see what I can do to help.” Erik pushed himself up to his feet, frowning at the state of the room. It too was a mess. “And I’m going to hire you a goddamn maid. I think we’ve got the budget for one.” Michael’s drunken laughter filled the room, as he wadded a cheeseburger wrapper up and launched it at his brother. |
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10:51 AM Jul 11