wcf leading into 'ONE', two matches written by myself

[THE Mac Bry v2]

The Road to ONE [C.D. Series -- pt.1]
-------------------------------------

[NOTE 2 EVERYONE: The following series of roleplays is compiled and edited from posts I made on the fed where raYne was killed... after being raped... after being called a 'worthless shemale'. I wanted to tell his story, and these are a few of the building blocks. I took out all the match / fed specific material, and am posting these STRICTLY as C.D. pieces, to tell a story. I'll be posting these leading into ONE. I will also be editing many parts to update them for WCF. And the part below, where raYne speaks directly to Mod, has been, for the most part, written JUST now, before I posted this. And I'll be adding completely new, fresh material after the initial posts are made. Truly hoping this is all ok.]

[SIDE-NOTE: When I begin writing my new work, I will be cutting down DRASTICALLY on ellipses [...] and I will also be sticking to a more 'novel' writing style, like a book would be written. So trust me, by now, I've realized the way I've always written doesn't cut it. I'll be working on that.]


~ ? ~





"The clouds are dark.
Won’t go away...
I need some light,
On this rainy day.
The falling rain...
Releasing drops.
Drops of pain,
That won’t go away."


Saturday -- Nov. 23rd, 2013 -- 3:33am [CST]


December... it was the month he'd been waiting for. The month where it would all begin... again. For three--long--years, he'd been away from the game... but no more. He looked at himself in the mirror each day... he loved who he'd become... but he despised what he'd been doing for the past few years--

Nothing.

It bothered him to no end... for ten, glorious years, he'd seen so many things... BEEN THROUGH so many things... but then, suddenly... it all dissapeared. But... he was ready. Ready to return to that which had made him what he is today. To return... to the game.

Our scene opens... upon a forest. The raYne Forest. His safe haven-- his home away from home. All of the times he spent here... passing through the trees, on the way to the River raYne... up the mountain's peak, to rest in his cabin... the cabin he called his "True Home". The one place he knew he was safe from the hatred of the outside world...

... that is. Until that fateful day... oh so long ago...


"I am the Blood God. Believe in me...
and be led down the path to immortality...
... See you in your dreams."


Sitting alone in his cabin... visions of Vlad shimmered through the back of his mind. Vlad, the 'Blood God' of the long-ago, original stomping grounds of 'The Storm'. XAW. From time to time, raYne sees all the images rushing through his mind, of these bygone years... leaving him clutching at his multi-colored hair... weeping, smearing his make-up... he remembered oh so many things. The past... was frightening. But it was also glorious...

... without looking at the camera... raYne spoke, "Do you know... how difficult it is... to change what you've always been...," Suddenly, raYne rips his head from his palms, and stares into the camera... cold... a look betraying his sparkling outward appearance... "Do you KNOW how much hatred I've had to overcome? Since the day I was BORN? My father... my high school sweetheart, Alexis... "The Deite's Dragon", Javex Valerius... and the list goes on and on. I see so many people... spewing forth all of this shallow-minded drivel... do you REALIZE...

"... do you realize what I could do to you? No, LOOK AT ME... do you KNOW what I could do to you? Each and every last one of you hateful, spiteful people. Simply for declaring me and my kind 'inferior'... You're not superior. You're all the same. And do you know how I KNOW you are?"

The anger slowly fades away from his demeanor, as he looks down at the log cabin floor. "... it's because you're all looked down upon. In one way or another, we're ALL the same..."

raYne looks away for a second... before returning his gaze... only, this time? A beaming smile has replaced the fury and sadness that stood there before. He giggles.

"Regardless of all of this hate you feel toward ME? And others like me... I feel none for you. Because I know you.

"... iAm you. The same hate you have for me... is the same hate others have for you. For one reason or another... there's always someone out there that WILL hate us.

"The only thing I hate? Is hate itself.

"And... that's why I've come here.

"i_Wish to cleanse this company of all the hate that fills it to the brim, like the beer in Doc Henry's mug... he seems like a beer drinker to me.

"But-- I know, deep within my heart of hearts... that you WILL BELiEVE... in me. As I Believe in each and every one of you.

"You see... infections MUST be dealt with. Swiftly... and efficiently.

"And iAm here... to wipe out the disease that is hate.


"See you soon, darlingz.

"Sooner than you think."

raYne smiles at the camera... eyelids bedazzld with glitter... wearing a shredded pair of jeans, a purple tee with the word 'Believe' written across the front in white... and a dragon pendant around his throat. He blows a kiss, before motioning his hands into the heart symbol... before, once again, giggling. He walks toward the camera... and turns it off.


~ ? ~


wcfwrestling.proboards.com/thread/18225/get-off-truck
-- a C.D. piece by Moddie & my replies. Relevant to the following.


"I hear The Storm...
Coming close to me.
I know it’s here,
Oh, don’t you see?
I'm stuck in the rain,
I need to leave.
But I gotta stay...

"For it's symphony."


Saturday -- Nov. 23rd, 2013 -- 4:44pm [CST]


The scene re-opens, this time, outside of the log cabin, upon a mountain in the core of the raYne Forest. It is evening... and the sun is slowly setting. raYne stands upon the peak of the mountain, which isn't an entirely tall mount. ... more like a hill. But it is at a level from which he can see all things transpiring below... he smiles unto himself. Still wearing the purple shirt with sparkling text declaring "BELiEVE". Memories begin to dance their way through his head... though, these ones are far more precious to him... unlike the scars left by Vlad... the Dhampir that at one time, long ago, did something so terrible... that it almost led raYne to end it all. But he didn't. He stood tall. Believed in himself... and returned. Just as he always does. Just as the rain from the heavens... always coming back. It never fails.

These memories that reach into his mind and pull him back in time... they bring him back to his childhood hero... XAW legend, Javex Valerius. The Deite's Dragon. He thinks of all those times he looked up to him... then, he thinks about how JVX was the first male celeb $hane had ever had a crush on... he thinks to himself... about that day...


"I am... I Am... I AM... the Deite's Dragon
... and Reeve? You sicken me."


Suddenly, raYne's eye begins to twitch...
... that one memory... that day he told Javex the truth...


raYne turns an eye to the camera... and now, the smile has vanished. Replaced by a more serious expression. "Exactly twelve hours ago. 4:44am, Central Standard Time. I sent a message to ModDeuce. The first of MANY. WCF... I'm here. I'm queer. And if you fuck with me? I WILL break you in half. Believe it."

raYne looks away for a second... down at the river below... the River raYne. He speaks without glancing in the camera's direction, "Moddie... I know what you'll say. That your comments had nothing to do with me. That they were mere jabs at a couple of no-talent, 'nerd smashing' hacks." raYne looks back toward the camera... and this time? His face is awash with pure malice... he speaks. "Moddie, you do not realize how impactful words can be. What if a young boy or gal were watching you speak? What if they were just begin to discover themselves, they heard your words, and they felt like you were no better than the bullies at school? Some hero you turned out to be."

raYne shakes his head solemnly, before looking back toward the river. He sighs, and then slowly sits down, resting with his legs dangling over the edge. His gaze cast out upon the far reaches of his jungle home, he continues. "You don't understand, Mod. When a person uses the 'N' word? It's obviously going to be looked down upon by others. When someone makes fun of a mentally challenged person, they're chastised. When women are looked down upon, religions are ridiculed, and our elders are disrespected, people see all of these things as wrong. And yes, there will still be those who believe it's fine to do so... but never so many as when it's the degredation of the LGBT community. We're expected to take it, and move along."

raYne eyes the camera. "But Mod... I will NOT take it. I will not move along. You may figure that I'll simply verbally lambaste you about it. But... no. That's not who iAm. I'm here for one thing. To take action. For my community... but not with protests. Not with words. With battles in-ring, my fists, my feet, my BODY as my weapon. But some of my own people may not agree with me being their chosen warrior. Yes, I'm not homosexual. I'm bi, and I prefer gals. Why? Because most men are jerks... like you, Moddie."

raYne lifts up, and begins to pace toward the camera. "And you may say, with an attitude like mine, I very well could have deserved the treatment I've been dealt in life. But let me ask you this... did I DESERVE to have my father beat my mother? No. But, every once in a while, I'll give a guy a chance. For I know... no man is created equal. And when I say that? I don't mean one person, or one group of people, is superior to one another. I mean what one person does..."

raYne then locks his vison on the camera. "... DOESN'T dictate the actions of an entire group. Yes, my father was a dirt bag. But that holds no account for others of his gender. He is one in a line of billions... MANY who are wonderful people. Just like there are gals who are absolute mooks. Such as Sarah Twilight." raYne chuckles lightly to himself at this, but presses on. The serious expression returning to his face.

"My father... he didn't just stop at beating my mother. He slept with my babysitter... do I deserve the MEMORY of my mother leaving me at the age of eight because she could no longer endure that chaos? I don't think so. But I'm sure you would disagree. As is your won't. But I will have you know, good sir...

"... I am bi. I am androgynous. I am straight edge. And?
... iAm better than you. But... I still love you."

raYne looks back toward the river below... the madness in his expression and vocal demeanor slowly dissipating... he continues to speak... "You speak of an 'Upgrade'?", raYne then looks directly into the camera's lens, with a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth... the sound of thunder can be heard in the distance... "Oh, there's an 'Upgrade' on its way. An evolution. From of a world, a DESERT of hate... the hate that SO MANY are buried within... far, far too many...

"... the evolution from this desert of hatred and anger... into a whole new world. Soaked in the refreshing relief of love."

The thunder gives way to lightning... which gives way to rain. Pouring steadily from the heavens above... cleansing the fury within raYne... replacing it with a calm... he moves forward with his speech.

"For FAR too long... hate has spread through this planet at every turn. It is disheartening. It saps away at the soul. It begins wars. It leaves family's broken. It leads people to become criminals, and drug addicts... and suicide statistics.

"... no more. I, dear friend... am here to make a change. To bring a difference. To PROVE that love... not hate... is the answer.

"Look into my eyes. Do you truly see someone below you? Or... do you see someone on equal ground?

"Moddie, there is a revolution on the horizon. And it begins on 12.22.13. Three days before Christmas, a day which was once the very EMBODIMENT of love... now drenched in hate, thanks to marketing, thanks to jealousy, thanks to greed. This hatred MUST end. And beginning soon, VERY soon...

"iAm beginning a Revolution.
An era... of Love.

"Believe...
Or BeLeft BeHind."

As the rain continues to fall and soak $hane-o-mac 3ry, he looks down at the raging river... filling with pure drops of beautiful water...

... raYne dives from the cliff's edge... and down into the depths below.

As our camera pans to catch a glimpse of the sight... we see one word... burning in the river...

- BELiEVE -

#rUready?
#bPrepared.

#12.22.13
#let_freedom_ring
#stayTuned


"I am sick and tired of playing this silly game...
... I can't stop the raYne."


- - - - -

note ~ the following is from modDeuce's C.D. rp, 'get the fuck off my truck',
which is, again, located @ wcfwrestling.proboards.com/thread/18225/get-off-truck

Nov 26, 2013 3:42:42 GMT -6 @rayne said:

"My name... is raYne. The Storm. But I go by another...

"... Shane-o-mac Bry. And soon... the entirety of the WCF SHALL know all three. Very, VERY well...

"... beginning with one particular individual. ... It's showtime, folks."


*open to the inside of a truck... outside a gas station somewhere*

A figure is seen inside the truck, but it's hard to tell who it is due to the angle of the camera... but the person has a pair of pliers. They use the tool to break into a mechanical device... which appears to be some sort of tracking device. The figure reaches in, yanks out cable after cable, making a complete mess of things... before pulling a bottle of ketchup out... and POURING it inside. He then re-attaches the front of the contraption, but ketchup oozes out, and the machine is obviously left in a state of disarray. The person speaks... never looking into the camera, or allowing it to see much of his features...


"... Moddie. Babe. ... I heard your promo. I listened to your words.

"... and you upset me. GREATLY. And thus, I have chosen you as a beginning point. The first in a line of many... You speak as though you have something against my community...

"... the LGBT community. I can sense it in your choice of phrase. And it sickens me... and that is why I have chosen YOU... to make my mark.

"The name is raYne. Remember it. Keep it locked within the inner-most sanctum of that techie mind of yours. Because it is going to be the name that lies beside yours... an 'L' next to 'ModDouche'...

"... and a 'W' next to mine.

"Be prepared, Moddie...
... and Believe."

This figure... raYne... opens the truck door, and departs. Leaving behind the wrecked device...

... and a written message. A piece of paper, with a note, written in hot pink --


"One week... it begins."


'Thunder rumbling
Castle's crumbling
iAm trying to hold on.
God knows that I tried
Seeing the bright side
I'm not blind anymore.'


#storm_warning

|to be continued|

=============================================================================

============================
"Hatred Overflowing", by Moddie
============================

Talk about a bittersweet moment...

So there he was, in the ring, after making immensely short work of his competition, and he has to watch his Peterbilt be destroyed by raYne. Years of hard work went into buying that vehicle. It was his livelihood, his transportation, and his home all in one, and that total cunt stain ruined it!

He tried to find raYne to make "it" pay for what it had done, to no avail. That coward had already bailed out. Afraid of what was probably going to happen once Deuce got his hands around his scrawny throat. Despair started to set in. How could he allow something like this to happen? How could he not see that raYne was capable of such an act? Did "it" not have any morals? There's only a few things that you NEVER fuck with that belongs to a man. Those things are his woman, his home, and his ride. Two out of three makes for one dead motherfucker.

The insurance covered everything in the truck, to include his electronics, but it didn't make any of this right. This "thing" had been nothing but a thorn in his side since he set foot in this company. All this over a rant against a few thick-headed jocks. Well, this self-serving, pretentious cunt is about to get a hole punched through him the next time he sees this cowardly excuse of a person.

His victory over well-established veterans was ruined. And there wasn't anything that could console him. Not the caress of a thousand red-headed whores, nor gallons of Jack Daniels, and not even the greatest of great kine bud could snap this anger that he had.

No.

The only cure for this is to punch a hole through this fucker, rip out his internal organs, and take a shit all over them before setting this worthless fuck on fire, just like he did to the Peterbilt.

===========================================

Two days later, he finds himself at Sheri's Ranch as part of what he considers a "consolation package" from the fine staff of WCF. Probably just a ploy to keep him out of their hair. Throughout the entire time at the "resort", he had drank himself through a case of Jack Daniels and had fucked at least half the whores in the entire place. Whatever. He's not picking up the bill.

All he could think about while he drank and plowed his way through the resort was how to kill this little fucker that had inserted himself into his life. Who was this fuck to think he could get away with something like this? With any luck, the insurance agents and lawyers are making life difficult for this asshole, but that brought little solace to MD.

It wasn't until after his most recent romp with three red-headed women in a sauna that he saw that he had missed a call from Tom Matuzcak, his old boss from his repo days. Mod picks up the phone and calls back. After a few rings, he hears...

Tom: If I had known you didn't like the truck, I would've let you trade it in for another one.

Mod: Very funny. I'm gonna kill that little fucker!

Tom: Well, I got good news. The insurance is paying for a new truck and all of your equipment in the truck. I'll be driving it down to the LV personally. I just need the address.

Mod: I'm at some whorehouse in Pahrump. I forget which one. Hey Sarah, which whorehouse am I at?

Sarah?

All the whores from earlier are gone, and he is now alone in the sauna. He was calling every whore in the place "Sarah", though even if she herself laid hands on him, THAT probably wouldn't make him feel any better about his situation. If he was in a better mood, he might find the irony in the fact that she is probably paying for all of this with WCF funds. Its not like he had broadcasted his feelings about the boss lady.

Anyways, as he looks around, Deuce says...

Mod: I have no clue which whorehouse I'm in. But get your ass down here! There's whores a plenty for everybody, I got a shitload of Jack Daniels, and I'm sure I can scare up some blow and green somewhere around here.

Tom: I'm good on all fronts. My old lady would kill me if she heard I was in a cathouse. I can only drop the stuff off and then I'm back on the road again.

Mod: On the road again... Just can't wait to get on the road again...

Tom: Okay, Willie. I'll see you down there in a few days. Later...

MD keeps singing, as Tom hangs up the phone...

Mod: Goin' places that I've never been, seeing things that I may never see again. I can't wait to get on the road again...

===========================================

Old Man: Hearing you've had quite the fucking bender! How them whores treating you out there?

Mod: Its alright. I'm just trying to let go of the fact that my shit was destroyed by this vindictive faggot. I mean, I say a few things not even in the context of calling these dudes faggots, yet this uppity fucker gets in my shit. I apologized, and this Dr. Frankenfruter motherfucker goes and fucks my livelihood and my home all up! How else do I answer that other than murder him in front of the entire world?

Old Man: Yeah, that little fruit took things too far and made them personal. If I were you, I'd take that big lug wrench of yours and cram that fucking thing down his damn throat. Hell, WCF ain't got no rules anymore, anyways, right? So beat that fucker to death in the middle of that ring, and really make him regret he ever so much as even looked at a picture of you, let alone crossed you. Your time to make it known you are not to be fucked with is at hand. Make an example of this faggot and be done with it! Feel free to embarrass the hell out of him while you do so.

Mod: Oh, I know what I need to fuckin' do. And that shit is going to go down probably at the awards dinner. Supposedly this fruitcake is going to host a show, after it has been put off for God knows how long.

Old Man: I hope you fuck his shit up. All the guys here are rooting for you. Even the openly gay guys think what that fruit did was unforgivable. Make him pay.

Mod: He's as good as fucking dead. I may be in there with you when all this shit is said and done.

===========================================

Hank: This is Hank Brown. I need to get a hold of you for an interview regarding your latest match, the incident with raYne, and how you feel about the upcoming WAR match. Call me back.

Mod listens to the recorded message on his phone yet again. It was probably the third or fourth time he'd called for an interview. God knows what that fairy had already said about the incident. Like it fucking mattered at this point. He could give him millions of dollars at this point, and it still wouldn't satisfy him. The bottom like was that he felt disrespected, and nothing short of raYne killing himself, or herself, or whatever the fuck raYne is, would ever make this whole situation right. How could he tell Hank Brown that without facing some sort of ridicule? He would probably say the wrong thing, and regardless of the fact that this person did what they did, some other asshole from the LGBT community would probably take offense to it...

Or would they?

Mod picks up his new Dell and goes to the blog pages on WCF, and starts pounding away at the keyboard at a furious pace. When he had finished his piece, it stated this...

I've grown up around all sorts of different people in my life. Different backgrounds, ethnicities, religions, and yes, sexual orientation. There have been many people that I have had the displeasure of meeting. That would include other white people, black people, Asians, and whatever ethnic background they come from. They were of several different religious backgrounds, and even sexual orientation. But never, have I ever been so disrespected by anybody in my entire life like I have on Sunday. Not even when I was shot, or stabbed and left for dead have I ever been so disrespected. At least on both of those occasions they were occupational hazards that I knew came with the job.

However, when raYne destroyed my truck, raYne crossed a line. That line crosses everything that I may or may not have liked about raYne, to include, yes, "Its" sexual orientation. That is not the bottom line here. The bottom line is that I was grossly disrespected. raYne had no cause or reason to do what "it" did. And yes, I put "it" in quotations because raYne may have been born a man, and plays at being a woman from time to time, but from here on in, raYne is no longer a person to me. You have lost any and all respect you may have been able to garner from me. You no longer register as a Native American, who worships a Goddess rather than a traditional god, who swings for either side. You are now and forever registered in my mind as an enemy. An enemy who will receive no quarter from me.

Furthermore, as one of my old friends said, you are now and forever a faggot. I say that to you specifically with the greatest amount of disrespect that I can muster. Just like there are good white people, and then there are honky motherfuckers, just like there are good, decent black people and there are niggers, and just like there are good Hispanic folks, and there are spics, you are no longer associated with the good people of the LGBT community. You are now and forever to be known as a faggot. FAGGOT! FAGGOT!!! And when our match comes at ONE, you had better have said your prayers to whatever Gods you worship, and you better settle up on whatever deals with the Devil you make. Because through Hell or high water, I'm going to fuck you up, bottom line.

As for this WAR match, well, needless to say that after I'm done with raYne, consider yourselves on fucking notice from here on out. I will face each and every one of you motherfuckers like a man. I may win, and I may lose, but if you EVER fucking disrespect me, you will pay with gallons of blood. raYne will be the first example of just what will happen when you fuck with me.

SCORCHED EARTH, MOTHERFUCKERS!!! THERE WILL BE NO UPGRADING OF YOU! AT ONE, YOU WILL BECOME OBSOLETE, AND I WILL TEAR YOU DOWN WITH GREAT PREJUDICE!!! #BELIEVEINTHATMOTHERFUCKERS!!!

The rage poured out as easily as the booze poured out of his body. He was completely drenched in sweat as he hit enter and poured his absolute hatred for raYne out into the Internet. In hindsight, he may have went overboard with the derogatory comments, but it made his point quite clear. He was a piece of shit, and should be associated as a piece of shit in his own community.

He raised a bottle of Jack Daniels to his lips, and took a tremendous pull from the bottle, finishing the last quarter of the bottle, before falling backwards into the bed, stone drunk, in the middle of two bleach-skinned, freckle-accentuated, redheads.

= = = = = = = = = = = = =
Mod -- The Response
[c.d. vid in reply 2 mine]
= = = = = = = = = = = = =

As "ONE" draws closer, WCF finds a package in the mail sent by Mod Deuce, with the words "To Be Played IMMEDIATELY" on the package. The AV guys are kicked the video, and they play it. Some don't know what to make of it.

After all, its got decent production value...

It's got a Marlon Brandoesque feel to it...

It makes the blood run cold...

Seriously, this is some Col. Kurtz shit right here...

If you do not get the reference, you totally need to get your cracker asses out there and watch Apocalypse Now.

Or you can just watch this video of MD possibly bombed off his ass while he rambles into a computer screen camera.

Well, anyways. Without further ado, I give you Deuce's response to raYne's own video.

Feel free to take a shower after watching this video.




=============================================================================

Road to ONE, Pt.2 -- City of Angels 1&2
--------------------------------------------------------

(EDiT: At first, I posted the second part of this as a match rp, but I don't want to enter pre-written material into my match work. So, I edited the first part of this, and deleted the second, then posted it as a reply. These two parts are extremely important to my plans for ONE, so I decided to post them together as my last C.D. piece for a couple of weeks. I'm really hoping it's ok that I post these, due to the significance they have pertaining to my role at ONE, my future... and hers. I'll try to pm Seth to make sure this is ok, but for now... here they are.)


[NOTE 2 EVERYONE: The following series of roleplays is compiled and edited from posts I made on the fed where raYne was killed... after being raped... after being called a 'worthless shemale'. I wanted to tell his story, and these are a few of the building blocks. I took out all the match / fed specific material, and am posting these STRICTLY as C.D. pieces, to tell a story. I'll be posting these leading into ONE. I will also be editing many parts to update them for WCF. The parts where raYne addresses Mod have JUST NOW been written, before I posted this. And I'll be adding completely new, fresh material after the initial posts are made. Truly hoping this is all ok.]

[SIDE-NOTE: When I begin writing my new work, I will be cutting down DRASTICALLY on ellipses (...) and I will also be sticking to a more 'novel' writing style, like a book would be written. So trust me, by now, I've realized the way I've always written doesn't cut it. I'll be working on that.]





PART ONE -- Like A Phoenix

=========================

"...i fell apart--
but got back up again..."
~ 30 Seconds To Mars

=========================


ooc -- the following... is raYne's last match.
... from xwf. the fed that killed him.
before calling me a 'worthless shemale'...

I felt it would be the perfect way to begin this piece.

Read on.

~ $hane


------------------------
-- xwf shove-it:
vive la revolution
9.22.13 --
-----------------------

- Christine Nash vs raYne -


Night fell on Chateau Bonaguil and pyros shot off from the top of the castle, the townsfolk and entertainers had come to the Castle on the hill for what was promised to be an amazing night. A camera panned in on Alexandra who was sitting on a throne, in the courtyard where a makeshift ring had been set up. She smiled evilly, and turned to Joy and Payne her special guests for the evening. They smiled back and she stood, lifting the microphone to her lips.

"Welcome everyone to Chateau Bonaguil. I promised everyone a night they wouldn't forget and I intend on giving it to you all. On with the show!"

The crowd went wild, cheering for her. She waved her hands and the first event went underway, as she returned to her throne, knowing what was coming next. She smiled up at Mystica who stood next to her, taking his hand. The woman and the she/he/thing circle each other as the flames roar at ringside. They are about to lock up when the man/lady holds his hand out in front of him as if to stop Nash. He reaches for a microphone, which is thrown towards him over the flames. He wipes his already sweating brow and lifts the mic to his lips.

RAYNE: Stop, Christie sweetheart, and hear me out! You may hate me, but iAm Rayne, and iAm going to fill you with happiness through the power of song!

With that, Rayne opens his mouth and begins to sing, Nash immediately hits a superkick, sending Rayne crashing to the floor! Before another word can be said, the lights suddenly go out, and a video plays on the XTron. The lights return to the arena, and in the ring stands Casey Jones, accompanied by Michael River! The flames have disappeared, and the eyes of everyone are on the four people inside the ring! River immediately lifts Rayne to his feet……..and delivers the Decisive Blow! Suddenly the entire XWF roster pours out of the locker room in a straight single file line! Into the ring slides Elisha, who, along with River, lifts Rayne to his feet, holding his arms back. Jones removes the glasses from his face, takes a step back………………………….AND STRIKES! JONES JUST HOOKED RAYNE IN THE GABBER M8! RAYNE FALLS LIKE A SACK OF SHIT! Jones and River silently exit the ring as Nathaniel Adolph Zachary Idenhaus slides in! He reaches into his pocket….AND TAKES OUT A MOTHERFUCKING STUN GUN! He immediately shocks Rayne to the floor, who twitches like a half-dead rabbit. NAZI IS IN THE MOTHERFUCKING ZONE TONIGHT! He bounces off the ropes before delivering THE FUHRER’S ELBOW! HE DAMN NEAR KILLED HIM! Now Archie Lawson has entered the ring and is accompanied by Smoke Man! Smoke Man lights a match while Archie sprays the deodorant can, creating a flame thrower-esque tool that burns the shit out of Rayne!

DID SOMEBODY ORDER BARBEQUED SHEMALE?!

Rayne screams in agony as the TIGRIS CORPORATION make their way to the ring. The roster parts as two masked men storm the ring and beat the living shite out of Rayne with nightsticks! They halt the beating momentarily as another man enters the ring and stands over the fallen Rayne…..before STABBING HIM IN THE NECK WITH A SYRINGE! Rayne froths at the mouth and convulses as the others look on gleefully! NAZI in particular stares with a fondness as the unnamed man continues the work of the famous Dr Joseph Mengele! WHAT THE ABSOLUTE FUCK?!?!?!?! HULK HOGAN IS HERE! HULK HOGAN! HULK HOGAN! HOGAN RUSHES INTO THE RING AND NAILS THE TWITCHING RAYNE WITH A BIG BOOT! WHAT’S THIS?! NAZI HAS ENTERED THE RING AS WELL! HOGAN AND NAZI BOTH HIT THE ROPES………………….. AND NAIL A DOUBLE LEG DROP! AS GOD AS MY WITNESS RAYNE IS BROKEN IN HALF! Hogan and Nazi exit the ring…as JOHN BLACK ENTERS! He straps a rucksack to Rayne’s leg and exits the ring. Well that didn’t seem very violent. What a let down. Wait a minute…WHAT’S THAT?! It’s J.I.H.A.D.!

JIHAD: DEATH TO THE INFIDELS!

JIHAD pushes a button on his wrist….AND TAKES RAYNE’S LEG CLEAN OFF! The man-lady howls in pain, crying like a little bitch! We look to the left and HERE THEY COME! IT’S THE DREAM TEAM! BARNEY MOTHERFUCKING GREEN IS BACK, AND HE’S WITH CRIMSON DONG! Green wastes no time in entering the ring, and he puts RAYNE IN THE ANAL SEX CAMEL CLUTCH! Rayne starts to scream in pain, but he is soon silenced… BY CRIMSON DONG’S MASSIVE SCHLONG! Dong cockslaps Rayne into the next motherfucking century! Holy shit! The two are really going at it, before they leave to go and fuck some trannies, yo’. Micah and Zak Misery enter the ring and push Rayne out, blood dripping from gaping hole where his leg should be. They drag him slowly, agonisingly to the top of the stage where Alexandra has stepped down off her throne, removing the cover from the Guillotine, as if she was channeling King Madison. HOLY SHIT! IT’S ALEXANDRA CALLAWAY! AND SHE HAS THE GUILLOTINE! Rayne’s head is placed slowly into the guillotine as Callaway looks on with a smile. He looks up helplessly and opens his mouth. Callaway listens carefully for an apology.

RAYNE: iAm who iAm honey, iWas born this way!

"And I am who I am!"

He tries to make a heart symbol with his fingers, but Callaway pulls the lever! The guillotine blade slams down and takes Rayne’s head clean off! Archie Lawson runs up and kicks Rayne’s head to Smoke Man, who passes it to John Black. They’re using it like a soccer ball! Everyone at ringside cheers, as the screen fades to black…

WINNER:
Everyone in the fed.

= = = = = = = = = =





'There was truth.
There was consequence.
Against you... a weak defense.

'...Then there's me.
I'm seventeen...
Looking for a fight.'


He woke up. Sweat pouring down his face. Every night, for the past three months-- the same dream. A vision of an ending. A gruesome, violent ending. It haunted him. Face buried in the palms of his hands, he breathed rapidly, feeling every part of his body tense up. He couldn't calm down. He couldn't slow the beating of his own heart. His mouth was dry. His stomach churned. He felt dizzy.

He collapsed to the side of the bed.


'All my life I was never there...
Just a ghost running scared.
Here our dreams aren't made–

'They're won.'


He woke up. Again. But this time, his eyes darted around the room... and he found himself on a couch. Blanket drawn across his chest, and a hand holding a warm rag to his forehead. He slowly regained his full vision, through a haze, he saw him. His long time companion--

Tony Spaghetti.


"Reeve, ya GOTTA start takin' care ah yah-self, bro. You're seriously lettin' yah-self go, ovah here. I don't wanna lose you, Reevie. Not after thirteen years together."


"Tony...", raYne licked his lips, trying desperately to reduce the dryness in his throat. "Tony, you KNOW I hate that name... 'Reeve'." Hearing himself utter this name, he shudders. The past still etched in the back of his mind.

"I know. I know ya do... I'm sorry. '$hane', I am. But the fact remains. You're killin' yah-self. And I don't just mean physically. Emotionally. Spiritually. You're neglecting yourself. And you're tearin' yah-self down. And I fucking hate to see this, $hane. I seriously do. I dunno if I can handle seeing you slowly creep closer and closer to death. I just--"


"Tony..." raYne looks up at his companion. Gazing lovingly into his eyes, and trying his best to muster up a reassuring smile. He whispers. "...I know." raYne nods his head, taking Tony's hand, weakly. He then slowly shakes his head. "Don't worry. I'm not done yet. No matter what brings me down... even if it's the person staring back at me in my reflection...

"... I always rise back up.
Better than ever before.
And ready for a fight."


'Bought my fate straight from hell.
Second sight has paid off well.
For a mother, a brother, and me.

'The silver of a lake at night...
The hills of Hollywood on fire...
A boulevard of hope and dreams.

'Streets made of desire.'


~ ? ~

Nov 30, 2013 15:46:48 GMT -6 @doc said:

@southernrogue

Ya know, I'm beginning to like this new guy raYne... Now let's see what he can do in the ring...

Saturday -- Nov. 30th, 2013 -- 5:55pm [CST]
Nowhere, Oklahoma


The scene opens... to the Apollo. Yes, THAT 'Apollo'. THE Apollo. raYne is standing outside, trying to get in... his hair is straightened, he's wearing a pair of shredded jeans, a dark brown shirt with the 'Anarchy' symbol emblazoned across the front in white stitching... and he wears a spiked choker. As well as a pair of dirty black & white sneakers. He looks much less feminine this go 'round... playing toward his masculine side. He steps up to the bouncer...

"Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, YO! Wassup homie! Wassup G-Dawg?! Wassup mah NIGGA'?!"

At this, the bouncer's eyes become as wide as saucers, and he heaves raYne to the cement on his ass. "GET THE FUCK OUTTA HERE, WHITE BOY!!!", screams the bouncer.

raYne is left in a crumpled heap. He looks slowly toward the camera... "Moddie-- does that prove anything to you? I hope it does... cuz that shit hurt." After a few moments of introducing himself to the sidewalk, face to... gravel... he begins to pick himself back up to his feet. He dusts himself off, before shoving his hands into his pockets, and then begins trekking along the path. As he walks, he speaks, "Mod? Words hurt. Maybe-- NOT as much as getting your body driven into concrete..." raYne stops, and turns his eye to the camera, his expression becoming much more serious "...but they do. You may claim that it's nothing more than whining over the little things. But it's the little things that matter. They're the things that alter a person's mindset. What's small to you, can mean the WORLD to another." raYne's eyes burn with intensity, as he shakes his head, looking back down at the sidewalk below. "You just don't get it. But you will... soon enough."

raYne reaches the end of the sidewalk, and looks across the street-- he finds a woman, struggling to get a hefty load of groceries into her car. She is a bit of a plain jane... but she seems kind, sweet, and gentle-hearted. In her late 20's, and with a bit of a nerdy appearance... $hane smiles to himself. He begins to walk in her direction, speaking while he makes his way.

"By the way? I see how you're confused. Referring to me as a he/she, and 'it'. I am androgynous. I am both femme... and masculine. My gender changes just as quickly as my mood does-- like the wind. Prior to this promo, I've shown mostly my feminine side. But that, dear Moddie..." raYne peers off to the side, at the camera "...is only one side of the coin. So, you refer to me as an 'it'... Moddie, I am much more than a 'he/she'. Or a 'shemale'.

"... iAm an entity. All that you can imagine, rolled into One. iAm The Storm. I am The Show. I am darkness and light. Wrong and right. Saint and sin. Beginning and end. Every color of the spectrum. You can hurl your names, your insults... but I shall take them, I shall plant them, and they shall grow. And they shall become fuel. For that eventual moment, where I stand across from you, as you underestimate me. As you DOUBT me. As oh so many have done before you. The thing is... I'll be honest.

"I always lived up to their doubt.
... but no more."

$hane sighs, before continuing to walk. He eventually reaches the woman, and smiles at her... nodding toward the bags of groceries. The gal gives a warm smile, and the two begin to pack the bags into the back of the car. After a few moments of working together, the two have completed the task, and the gal asks $hane if there's anything she could do for him in return. "Well," responds $hane, "I'm free tomorrow-- Sunday night. I'd love someone to have dinner with. I've been awfully lonely lately... I could use a friend."

The woman nods her head, the smile beaming brightly, as she speaks, "Not a problem. I'm new in town."

$hane chuckles lightly. "So, in need of a tour guide, eh? It'd be an honor."

The woman's smile becomes even more radiant. "I'm sure you know all of the best spots in town. I could really go for some Italian."

$hane giggles at this, shaking his head, a grin spread across his face. He bites his lip, thinking about how ironic that statement is, given his long-time 'companion'. He speaks. "... Believe it or not, I was thinking the exact same thing."

The gal smiles. She writes down her name, and tells $hane to look for her on Skype... they could continue the conversation as soon as they both arrived home. $hane takes the slip of paper, and tells the lady, "I'd like nothing more. Thank you, darlin'." The woman blushes, but only a bit... before waving, and taking to her vehicle. As she drives off toward home, $hane looks off in her direction... then at the camera. "Mod... seriously. You know NOTHING about me.

"But you will."

raYne continues to smile, before heading down the block... towards his home. Not the cabin, seen in his previous promo... for that, as well as the raYne Forest, is far behind him now... and there's no telling when he'll return once again. For now... he's heading toward Mac Manor.

~ ? ~


*30 minutes later*

We find $hane standing within the confines of his personal library, somewhere inside the inner sanctum of 'Mac Manor'. Over his ten+ years in the business, $hane has amassed a decent amount of cash. And with it, he's managed to make a nice home for himself. A place that many could only dream of. The economy took a toll on his bank account, as well as his lifestyle... but he's made do. And by "make do"... I mean the guy's got a damned Church inside his house. Yes... a Church. And I don't just mean a room with a couple of benches, a podium, and a tray with crackers & grape juice... But that's a story for another time.

raYne rifles through a few books upon one of the shelves... before coming upon one book in particular. The title reads, "The NeverEnding Epic"... he flips through the pages, but after only a handful... the pages run blank. He speaks without turning toward the camera. "Mod. In my career, I've managed to make a rewarding life for myself. And when I look through history, there are many others, just like me, that have carved their names into the books of time. They were idols. Not quitters", at this raYne turns a vile eye toward the camera. The hate burns within, despite The Storm battling to rid it from himself... It still remains.

"Maurice Sendak. Dorothy Allison. Gregory Maguire. Harvey Fierstein. Bret Easton Ellis. Truman Capote. Virginia Woolf. All authors. All members of the LGBT community. All icons. As are countless more... one of my GREATEST passions is reading. And writing. And this book I hold within my hands is a testament to that. And yet," raYne glances toward the plethora of empty pages held within his hands, "It is also a testament to my loss of passion...", he looks back into the camera's lens. "... but that is all coming to an end. For you see... that fire that once burned inside of me? It's been reignited... and I will NOT allow it to diminish this time. It will only burn brighter, and more brilliantly by the day. Action. That is my new motto. I've always lived by the word 'Believe'. But, there is more to it than that. Believe it...

"... and BE it."

raYne's eyes seemingly burn a hole through the camera, as he takes a deep breath-- before releasing. "iAm pure for iAm void of hate... and iAm strong BECAUSE of my weaknesses. And the mere fact I've overcome them," raYne slams the book shut, and glares into the camera.

"Soon... you will have a new name to refer to me as.
Victor.
And I don't mean Hugo."

raYne places the book down upon the surface of a table. He runs his fingers alongside the table's edge, as he slowly walks, speaking all the while, anger brimming in his tone "I see a match between the two of us on the horizon. It is inevitable. It is unavoidable."

raYne stops pacing. And turns an eye to the camera.

"... A Storm is Brewing.
And you BETTER be prepared."

With this, raYne brushes past the camera, which pans down upon the book's cover, resting upon the table.

The NeverEnding Epic
by Reeve Gordon


= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

"Why is it that a raven is like a writing desk?
The Truth is... while the raven soars...
... the desk allows one's imagination to do the same."

~ Lewis Carrol... as answered by me.
But of course... it's only an opinion.

=============================================================================

(NOTE #ONE: Ok... first off, I'm posting this as a match rp. But, I was just about to post this, then I realized, that if it isn't posted as a C.D. piece, then it might be against the rules that I post it, seeing as it's something I've written in the past... This is a very crucial piece, so I'm hoping it can either be ok to post this as a C.D. work, or maybe it can be judged merely for the new parts [the edited parts are 1) the one that's been quoted and 2) the ones from Dec 1st -- 5:43pm & 9:32pm] ... this will be the ONLY even remotely C.D. piece I'll post for at least the next week or perhaps two, if need be.

(... I was even afraid to post any tweets, but I'm hoping those are ok. I don't want to go against any rules. I want to prove myself to you all, that I can be a beneficial member to the community. I simply want to post this roleplay, as it has a great bearing on raYne's future. If all else fails, I'm more than willing to delete it, I just seriously believe this to be an important part leading into the PPV... But as long as this one is ok, I can hold off on continuing the 'Road to ONE' series till a week or two from now, with an obvious change in name... I hope this is all ok with you guys. And I truly hope you enjoy... thank you for having me back. There are a few more notes I wrote prior to realizing the 'pre-written work' problem...


(NOTE#2: I originally had Hannah post this as a C.D. roleplay, in continuation of my 'Road to ONE' character development series. Since I was told to cut out the C.D. posts for a week or two, I decided to post this as the first of my [possible] two match roleplays against Mod [though this may be the only one]. It sets up what I'm hoping to go down at ONE... so it needed to be posted. Moddie... best of luck, man. I read your work... and it is fucking stellar. Now that I'm back, I am happy to have you as the first match I get to have here. I thought I'd screwed everything up and lost it all... but now, just like Hannah gave me a third chance, Seth is as well. And just like with Hanny? I'm not blowin' it. Best of luck to everyone on the card, I hope both Jeff Purse & Jack Happy enjoy the match I wrote... and Merry Christma-hannu-kwanza-kah Soltice, WCF~!!1one <3)


(NOTE #3: The first part of 'City of Angels - pt.1' was entirely new material. Not the match from XWF, but the part where raYne woke up, and then ended up talking to Tony. That was entirely fresh, written the other day. And the same holds true for the first section of this piece, where he has the dream again, and then speaks with...someone...on Skype. Along with the part proceeding the 'date', where he once again talks to the 'mustery gal', and then the blog... Again, this is a very important piece of 'Road to ONE'. I've been told that others have posted much better introductory pieces than mine. That's fine. This isn't theirs. This is mine. And I'm writing it for two people. Me... and her. And she loves my writing. That's good enough for me.)


~ ? ~






PART TWO -- End of the Beginning


=========================


'it's the place where i came...
and the dreams DID come true.'

'i love this city... i love it with all my heart.'

'the city of angels is where i was able to find myself again.
... the real me.'

'i wouldn't have anything if it weren't for this city'

'i thought it was the most magical place i'd ever been...
... it's the promised land.'



'... land of the stars.

'my star.
my shining beacon.
many people speak about a land of a billion lights.

'... i only need one.

'many dream of heading out west... i dream of heading north.

'my city doesn't need "angels"
just one.
and i'm comin' for her...


'i'm comin' home.'


~ ? ~


Sunday -- Dec. 08th, 2013 -- 5:55am [CST]
Nowhere, Oklahoma


That night. It would be his first in-ring battle as a part of the WCF. Or at least, that's what was promised. He was set to take on three other men-- Mr. Wrestling. Chris Davidson. And Chino. But none of these names were on his mind. No... right before his eyes drifted to a close that past night, there was only one man that he had focused his attention on. He thought about everything he'd went through so far in his return to the game. And all of it, every bit of it, had centered around that one man.

Mod Deuce.

His eyes felt heavy. Anger began to subside, giving way to a cool, calm, sleepiness. His eyes fluttered to a close. He slept.


And he dreamed.
And it was the same.

raYne's eyes opened with a start. The same moment they alway did. When that guillotine blade dropped. People cheering. From the rafters to the front row, and every man and woman on the roster. It was now 8:53am, and he knew he could no longer sleep. Not after that vision... he felt tiny beads of sweat dripping down his forehead. He was frightened. And he knew Tony was at work.

He had one person on his mind now.

The gal.

= = =

Sunday -- Dec. 08th, 2013 -- 9:32am [CST]
Nowhere, Oklahoma


They had spoken to one another for forty minutes or so, and it was exactly what $hane had needed. Seeing her gorgeous face on his smart phone, as they talked to one another on Skype. He saw her as a work of art. Her dazzling hair, often dyed in brilliant hues. Her rosy cheeks. Her beautiful curves. Her perfect lips. Her eyes... like grey skies. Grey eyes. Grey... yet so, so radiant. Seeing her eyes, her smile... no matter how he felt, sad, angry, depressed, it didn't matter. Seeing her... hearing her. That was the magic. The spell that broke any darkness in his heart, soul, mind and body. She was his key. His reason. The key to his heart... and his only reason for refusing to give up.


She spoke.

"BUBBY!"

He was snapped from his trance back into reality. She'd been talking to him, but all he could do was feel himself, lost in her eyes. As he always was. His heart raced, but this time? He enjoyed it. It wasn't the same as when he woke in the middle of the night from that dream. His pulse was frantic... yet jubilent. Like drums. Playing to the beat of her beauty. He smiled.

"Yes, Sissy?"

"You were staring again, weren't you? :3 "

"... I can't help it. >.< "

"Remember, $hane... we're taking things slow."

"I know... I do. I'm sorry, Hanny..."

"And DAMMIT, stop apologizing every other sentence! Remember the deal?"

"... I do. If I work on myself, take care of myself, be the $hane you know I can be, and stop being paranoid, and assuming, and depressing..."

"... then we'll see where it goes. Right?"

$hane gazed into her eyes, through the screen. He wanted to see her up close. Face to face. Standing before him, in all her enchanting glory. But, he knew, they were seperated... the entire state of Kansas standing between them. But he was willing to do whatever it took to be there. With her. Even if it meant finally getting his act together, and --

"MAKE IT HAPPEN, GODAMMIT!!"

He blinked. Before smiling. The passion in her voice. The realization, that regardless of how anybody else felt about him... she gave a damn. He fought back a tear. Sometimes he loved being emotional.

"...yes, mommy."

A pause. And then--

"...good boy."


He beamed. For the first time in what seemed like ages...

He was happy.
Truly happy.


~ ? ~


Saturday -- Nov. 30th, 2013 -- 5:55pm [CST]
Nowhere, Oklahoma


wcfwrestling.proboards.com/thread/18615/road-pt-city-angels-phoenix

Dec 15, 2013 15:12:41 GMT -6 @rayne said:

raYne reaches the end of the sidewalk, and looks across the street-- he finds a woman, struggling to get a hefty load of groceries into her car. She is a bit of a plain jane... but she seems kind, sweet, and gentle-hearted. In her late 20s, and with a bit of a nerdy appearance... $hane smiles to himself. He begins to walk in her direction...  He eventually reaches the woman, and smiles at her... nodding toward the bags of groceries. The gal gives a warm smile, and the two begin to pack the bags into the back of the car. After a few moments of working together, the two have completed the task, and the gal asks $hane if there's anything she could do for him in return.

"Well," responds $hane, "I'm free tomorrow-- Sunday night. I'd love someone to have dinner with. I've been awfully lonely lately... I could use a friend."

The woman nods her head, the smile beaming brightly, as she speaks, "Not a problem. I'm new in town."

$hane chuckles lightly. "So, in need of a tour guide, eh? It'd be an honor."

The woman's smile becomes even more radiant. "I'm sure you know all of the best spots in town. I could really go for some Italian."

$hane giggles at this, shaking his head, a grin spread across his face. He bites his lip, thinking about how ironic that statement is, given his long-time 'companion'. He speaks. "... Believe it or not, I was thinking the exact same thing."

The gal smiles. She writes down her name, and tells $hane to look for her on Skype... they could continue the conversation as soon as they both arrived home. $hane takes the slip of paper, and tells the lady, "I'd like nothing more. Thank you, darlin'." The woman blushes, but only a bit... before waving, and taking to her vehicle. As she drives off toward home, $hane looks off in her direction... then at the camera. "Mod... seriously. You know NOTHING about me.

"But you will."

Sunday -- Dec. 01st, 2013 -- 9:32pm [CST]
Nowhere, Oklahoma


He lay alone, resting upon his bed. Staring up at the ceiling, thoughts racing through his head... of that very afternoon.


He thought of all the feelings that swelled within him that day. So many emotions-- Hope... love... romance... happiness. He had imagined all of these things they would do together. Spending time together, listening to music, seeing films and concerts... she was a gamer. He just knew they would play together, he felt it in his heart... Feelings he'd only ever had around one other gal... but she was miles away. This gal lived right there, in his hometown, only a few blocks away from his 'Mac Manor'. It had to be... 'the one'. The one person that truly understood him, and that he had an honest to goodness connection with. Someone who would accept him for him, and love him for each and every last bit of him. And someone he wouldn't have to leave everything for... He had felt it deep within his bones.

"... Moddie.", raYne uttered, without looking in the camera's direction. His gaze cast solidly upon the shadows on the ceiling... speaking aloud. "Mod... do you know how it feels to be alone? No... I don't mean alone in the sense that you have nobody to talk to... but I mean truly alone. You know. When you're surrounded by people, you have every chance in the world to meet new people, you LIVE with people... you have a gal you speak with every day... look FORWARD to speaking with every day...

"... and yet? Still alone. Why? Because of who you are. All our lives we're told to love ourselves, and to accept ourselves for who we are... to "just be you". But the Truth is? When you're different... TRULY unique... all of those lovely phrases are cast aside. When you're different... Nobody understands you. Nobody accepts you. Nobody wants you. They're there... yet they're not. You speak to them-- yet you feel like you're speaking to a brick wall. Or you feel their eyes, glaring at you, glaring THROUGH you. You want them to like you. To care about you, to LOVE you. And, sometimes? They do.

"But you don't believe it.

"And why is that, you may ask? The answer is simple.

"Why should you believe it? Time after time... the same re-occuring pattern. And it never fails. So when that one person out of many comes along that truly loves you... it is hard to accept. Because you are so used to rejection... It is hard to trust people...

"... after everything I've been through. Yes. I know. You think you know me oh so well, EVERYONE does... but you don't. I can try and try to explain till I'm blue in the face, but when I first stepped into that lockeroom? When I first arrived on the scene... I knew. I just knew. I can try to escape it, I can try to keep peace within my heart and allow their looks and laughs and ridicule... and try my DAMNDEST to allow it to roll off my back. Pay no heed. Believe in me, regardless of what they may say. I can try.", raYne pauses for a moment. Then, he shifts himself upon his bed, so he now sits upon its edge. He wears a long, glowing, elegant, golden night gown. Feathers dangling from the cuffs and down the front... His hair, slicked back into a pony tail, dyed bright red in color. His face, adorned with make-up, eye shadow, crimson lipstick, and glitter... and around his throat is a necklace. Carrying a sparkling, jewel-encrusted dragon pendant. "... I can try. And I have. Time, and again. But always-- ALWAYS... I return to the same position I left in the first place. I run and I run... but I realize. I'm running on a track. And there is no destination."

$hane begins to look down at the floor... he begins to think to himself, once again... back to that day. That afternoon...

~ ~ ~

~ 5:43pm ~

Her name was Crystal. She & $hane had spoken for what seemed like the entire day... on Skype, over the phone, through text. They had seemingly fallen in love with one another in the span of 24 hours. He loved her giggle... her eyes, her hair, her smile. He loved the way she seemed so shy, but when she opened up? He could literally listen to her for hours. Just listen. And not be bored once. He took in everything she said... and she did likewise. She told him to meet her at an Italian resteraunt she'd discovered on her grocery trip. Nowhere, OK was new to her, but he vowed to introduce her to every last sight and sound-- together.

He arrived at 5:43pm. But... the clothes he wore on this occasion were unlike those he had worn when they first met. Nor were they anything like the ones he wore while they spoke via webcam. He wanted to see... to just make sure, though he was almost certain in his heart... but he just wanted to know for sure. To find out for himself, that she truly would accept him... no matter what.

His legs were slipped into a pair of tight leather pants. He wore a pair of jet black, lether boots, spiked along the sides. With spiked heels. His hands were fit into a pair of long, black satin gloves... his eyelids? Bedazzled in shimmering glitter. His lips, glowing radiantly from a coat of sharp red lipstick. His hair flowed down his shoulders like a waterfall, in dazzling hues of red, green, blue and violet. And his shirt-- black, with one word written across the front in rhinestones ; "BELiEVE". Walking to the resteraunt, he felt giddy... proud... and excited. Because he felt, within his heart of hearts, that this gal... she would understand. She wouldn't care. If the entire resteraunt full of patrons stared at him, he just KNEW she would tell each and every one of them off. She was his knight in shining armor.

He stepped through the door... and just as he had imagined, all eyes turned to him. With looks of disgust, hatred, and shock. He expected this.

What he didn't expect? Was her reaction.

"No... Shane? That can't be you... PLEASE don't tell me that's you. This must be some kind of mistake..." Crystal let out her verbal dismay. She couldn't believer her eyes. And she didn't want to. The grungey, rough-and-tumble looking punker she had met just the other day... this couldn't be him... could it? ... But it was. Just as he had told ModDeuce, his gender was fluid. One moment, he felt masculine. The next... he felt sparkling. Shimmering. Like a diamond. And just as he had felt from Mod... he felt that feeling from her... that hate. Just as he did from everyone else in the bulding. She shook her head. This wasn't the Shane she had agreed to go on a date with. For all intents and purposes... she was dating a drag queen. And she couldn't commit to this. She couldn't accept this. So she left.

And he stood there... as Crystal brushed past him, and departed through the doorway... never for him to see again. He stood there... as every last person in the eatery glared at him with disbelief. He felt ashamed. He felt horrified. All of the joy that coursed through his veins had suddenly run cold. He began to tremble. He felt tears welling up, but he couldn't allow them to flow... he couldn't allow them to see that. He had already embarrased himself enough... he rushed out the door. He hoped that MAYBE he could catch her... but she was gone. He fell to his knees, barely having the strength to remain at this position without crumpling to the cement sidewalk.

He began to weep. Holding his face in his palms, he knew he was there. Again. In that same cycle he'd been trapped within for years. Years which seemed like eons. And which seemed like they would last into eternity.

~ ~ ~

...

"Moddie...
You don't know.
You don't know a THING about me.

"None of you do.

"But soon... sooner than you can imagine.

"You will.

"Be prepared.
And Believe."

$hane, still sitting upon the edge of the bed... he begins to remove the pendant from around his throat.

And he places it upon his nightstand... right next to a picture of what appers to be a professional wrestler...

... wearing a mask. And holding a World Title. A World Title with the letters 'XAW' carved across the front.

The picture is signed... and it reads --

'Dear Reeve--

I know we've had our ups and downs, holmes... but for whatever it's worth?
You've got potential, mi amigo. Mucho potential.

Kill that attitude, essa? And you will fly. You will SOAR.
Just as I, the Deite's Dragon.

Keep Believing, mein. And never, ever give up.'

~ "The Deite's Dragon", Javex Valerius
'I am...'


~ ? ~





Sunday -- Dec. 10th, 2013 -- 11:40pm [CST]
Nowhere, Oklahoma


Three hours.

Three full hours.

That's how long they spent speaking to one another. And not a single moment of dead air.

When he spoke to Crystal, he thought it was fine that they spent so much time on the phone not saying anything. Just knowing the other was on the line seemed like it was enough...

They say it's funny how you don't realize how much you miss something till it's gone.

For raYne... it was the opposite.
He didn't realize how much he yearned for something...
Till he finally had her before his eyes.

"Bubby... I think I love you."

And with those words... the entire landscape changed. He gazed into her eyes for a few seconds... lost in the moment. LOVING the moment. A smile spread across his face. He beamed. After the hell he'd been through with Crys... this was the moment he'd been waiting for. Yes, she lived far away, compared to a gal that lived right there in his hometown...


... but some things are worth the distance. The patience. The effort. The sacrifice.

Some things are worth everything. Whatever it takes.


"You... really? But... what about my girly-ness? I mean... you can't POSSIBLY--"

"$HANE! What do you think is one of my absolute FAVORITE things about you?"

"... really?"

"DUH! Yes, really, ya big dummy! $hane... if I could? I would give you a makeover. A DRAG makeover. Because you would look hot as a gal. You really would."

"... really?"

"STOP SAYING REALLY!! $hane, I'm bi. And just like you can be girly, I can be like a guy. $hane... you're awesome. Why do you think I've been spending all of these months, ever since MARCH, talking to you constantly?"

"...well..."

"$hane... if you were to stop it with the negativity, and get some damned confidence, you would be fucking stellar. And all of these people that hate on you? They'd have no choice but to fall in LOVE with you... just as I have."

"Hannah... I know. I do... I read Mod's blog. He was right. Even people in our community, the LGBT community... even they hate me. Not because I blew up his stupid truck... but because of my attitude. White people hate me, black people hate, even the straight edge community..."

"I can't believe he thought you were Native American..."

"Yeah, I know. I have no idea where he got that from, but hey, he's clearly judgemental, so he must've seen my skin color, and assumed. Just like he does with everything else. But like I was saying, pretty much everyone I've ever met has ended up despising me, hating me... but there's one person that loves me. And I'm looking right at her."

There is a pause. The gal on the other end smiles.

"You know I do, $hane. For now, I want to keep it as 'Bubby' and 'Sissy''... but there's always a possibility. Down the road. You just have to focus on yourself, get to where you need to be with your mind frame, and taking care of yourself..."

"... I know."

"You know a lot of things, Bubby. The problem is actually DOING them."

"... I... I know. >.< "

The gal sighs.

"This is going to take a lot of effort..."

"... but you're worth it."

The gal smiles.

"And so are you."

They smile at one another... as the scene fades.


~ ? ~


The following blog was posted on 'rayne-bow.cjb.net'. It reads --


Dear Mod Douche.

First thing's first.

You're right.

People in the LGBT community? They hate me. But it isn't for the reason you believe. No, it's due to many other things... just as whites hate me, blacks, even the straight edge community I'm so very proud to be a part of. Virtually every person that's ever walked into my life, even those whom at one point loved me... have grown to hate me. The reason? Well, it's simple... my attitude. My self-deprecating negativity. My short-fused temper. And most of all... my lack of confidence. You wanna know why I look up to so many people in the LGBT community? It's because they are confident. Ellen, Elton, RuPaul, and the list goes on and on... they're fierce. What they're not? Is constantly belittling themselves, CONSTANTLY playing the 'woe-is-me' game... they are who they are. They live as they live. And they make an impact. That is who I strive to be. Yet all of my life... I've always returned to the same sea of sorrow.

I've been told before, that if a person stays true to themself, LOVES themself, and doesn't give a damn what the haters think? Then, sure, there will be people that do everything they can to cut them down. But there will always be those that can't help but love them. But... when a person hates themself, spends all of their time cutting themselves down, throwing pity-party after pity-party, finding every little thing that's wrong with the person in the mirror... when they do nothing but hate themselves? Everyone else will follow suit. And before long... nobody will want to be around them.

I'm tired of this. I'm tired of traveling the same road, and ending up at the same destination. Nowhere.

Ten days ago, I spoke of heading down a track... and always ending up at the same place. No destination. Just a continuous track that leads to the very same place I began...

No more.

I've been waiting my whole life... to live. And finally? I'm going Somewhere. And I'm never looking back.

BTW, Moddie... in your blog, you mentioned something about my being 'Native American'... my godmother is Cheyenne & Arapahoe. But she is not my blood relative. I have not a drop of Indian ancestry in me. My mother was white... and my father was black. I could fill an entire book with the story of my folks... but that will have to wait for another time. Eventually? I'll go into great detail about them, as well as my entire past. My history. But now is not the time. Just wait... and you will see.

I'm bi-racial... bi-sexual... bi-polar...
And bi-winning. iAm bi-squared.

^___^


Though there may be MANY people who despise me... there is one person that loves me. And I live for her. I breathe for her. And I would LITERALLY die for her. When I entered this company, I was the voice of the voiceless. Now? iAm... her knight in shining armor. And she is mine. You speak of my unconventional Goddess... well, Moddie. Thy name be Hannah. And Believe me... you will know her. You all will. With the passing of time, all things shall come. Yes, at this point... I can't truly focus. I am not where I need to be. But... I Believe. That in time, I will be.


Hannah Jo, if you read this? I love you, little girl.

And thank you.

For everything.


~ r.

'bubby'


~ ? ~




"Don't be afraid to be weak.
Don't be too proud to be strong.
Just look into your heart my friend,
That will be the return to yourself.
The return to innocence...
If you want? Then start to laugh.
If you must? Then start to cry.
Be yourself-- don't hide.
Just believe in destiny.
Don't care what people say...
Just follow your own way.
Don't give up and lose the chance...
To return to innocence."
~ ENiGMA


"This is not the beginning of the end.
This is but the end of the beginning."
~ Reeve. Fucking. Gordon.


"I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood-- and I?
I took the one less traveled by.
And that has made all the difference."
~ Robert Frost


“Every act of creation--
is first an act of destruction.”
~ Pablo Picasso


"Do I think I'm gonna make it in the industry?
As long as I keep Believing...
It WILL happen."
-- 'Superman'


"Lost in the city of angels
Down in the comfort of strangers
I found myself in the fire burnt hills
In the land of a billion lights

"One life,
One love left.

"The city of angels...

"... iAm home."

~ Thirty Seconds To Mars





#ONE_Direction
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
==================================
"(Holding Out For a) Hero?", by Moddie
==================================

We now find the so-called "hero" of this story now in Los Angeles. He got himself a new truck, a white Volvo, but it wasn't the same. The cab was smaller, the storage was totally different, and the previous owner had left stains all over the cab from whatever the fuck he did inside of the truck. It wasn't the same as his old Peterbilt, so he made a few calls in an effort to get something as close to possible to what he used to have. Not that he would have to if a certain person could let bygones be bygones. Now this fucker is going to pay with blood, teeth, and hopefully a visit to the nearest ER...

It was funny that after putting out the video, raYne fell dead silent. Maybe raYne has figured out that he indeed fucked with the wrong trucker. MD was ready to tear the eyes out of his head and piss in his dead skull. He had never been more ready for anything in his life. Not even when he knew his mom was terminal and he had to watch for four agonizing months as cancer took her piece by piece. In the end, she didn't know who she was, let alone anybody else. That was painful to watch.

But a week and a half at the Ranch provided wonders that most wouldn't know about, such as their state-of-the-art gym, the saunas, and everything else that catered to whatever the guest would desire. All that cake and pudding he was putting away on the road was melted off, and he was back to his fighting weight. His confidence was growing, and he felt the strength in the air as he drew nearer and nearer, while he felt raYne's confidence wane in the coming days. His show failed to materialize, which didn't hurt Mod's feelings in the least. That windbag has already said too much, and now his ass wrote a check that will be paid in full, with buckets of blood.

The final "fuck you" to raYne has already been put in place. Needless to say, it was a busy week of filming for Mod Deuce. At least this other film was filled with laughs. And with any luck, this video would make raYne's blood boil with rage. Good. Makes the blood flow faster when it starts to run.

But now is not the time to think about such things. Instead, MD is saddled up to a bar, a scotch in hand, as he watches everyone coming to and from the bathroom like there's a carnival going on in there he didn't know about. Los Angeles. Strange place. Only in LA do people go to the clubs to do drugs rather than drink. His companion for the evening, a gentleman by the name of Roger Niles, noticed the same thing, and both have made a game of figuring out what drug everyone coming out of the bathroom is on. Roger, in a heavy Scottish accent, says...

Roger: Check out those tarts over there. I'm going to go with "E" for this one.

MD: I'll buy that for a dollar. All touchy-feeley with each other. But they could possibly be lesbos.

Roger: No fucking way. Those chicks want the dick. Too bad they're too fucked up to even score a decent fuck in a place like this.

MD: Dude coming out is totally on meth.

Roger: No fair! Bastard's grill is more fucked than my own. Oh God, he's walking over this way...

The guy walks by, and he wreaks of the ammonia smell that is associated with the drug. Mod nods his head, while Roger shakes his, throwing back his 21 year-old Glenfiddich. He sets the glass down on the bar, as he says...

Roger: Another one, mate?

MD: Of course...

Roger: Barkeep!

A rather disinterested young man comes over and pours them another scotch. He then walks away briskly, before zooming in on the three girls that both men noticed were probably on ecstacy. The three girls order drinks, before the bartender starts making them. It was at this time that Mod noticed him slip his hands into his skinny jeans, pulling out God knows what. The kid dusts the glasses, before making whatever concoction these girls were aching for at this time. It was sad, because these girls probably didn't need any more chemical courage to sleep with the next thing that presented itself. Mod drains the glass of scotch, and abruptly gets to his feet. The drinks had taken some effect, but his judgement was sound on what he was going to do next. At least, until Roger grabs his shoulder. Mod turns around to an astounded Roger...

Roger: Where the hell you taking off to?

MD: I think I got a chance with these chicks. You want in?

Roger: Personally, I think a cheese grater would have something more interesting to show me than those tarts, but...

MD: They're about to get drugged, and I have a way to stop this.

Roger sighs, as he says...

Roger: And who's to say that they don't want that?

MD: It's a hunch I have. Come with me.

Roger scowls, but he downs his scotch and and says...

Roger: Lead the way, Superman...

Mod and Roger approach the ladies as the bartender finishes up with the drinks. Deuce gets up close with the nearest girl, a blonde with a body that didn't look like it was going to quit anytime soon. He slightly nudges her, as some of her drink spills. She looks over at Deuce and says...

Blondie: Watch it, King Kong!

Mod: Sorry. What you drinking there?

Blondie: Fuzzy Navel...

Mod grabs the drink from her and throws it over the bar. Roger does the same with the other two ladies, as Mod says in his most boistrous voice...

Mod: Unacceptable! Honeys as fine as you three totally need the royal treatment. How's about a few bottles of Cristal, or some Dom P?

Blondie: With you two losers? I mean, what are you, a trucker? And what's snaggle-tooth over there?

Roger: I've banged hotter in the back of a livery, so don't flatter yourself, honey.

Blondie: You're British?

Roger: Banged smarter in the loo, as well...

Her face crinkles, as she slowly figures out that he caller her both ugly and dumb. Before she can connect all the dots, Mod says...

Mod: Hey you, with the face behind the bar! I want a couple bottles of Cristal! Make it snappy...

The bartender gives both men the stink eye, as he makes his way to the cooler. He pulls out two bottles of Cristal, and starts working at opening the bottles. Deuce says...

Mod: Just give me the bottles, I'll open them myself.

Bartender: I've got to open the bottles...

Mod: Bullshit. Give me the fucking bottles. Last thing I want to get is a mickey from you, fuck-face.

Bartender: What did you call me?

Mod: I called you fuck-face, fuck-face.

Blondie: What are these two talking about?

Roger: Something about Mickey and drinks.

This other, smoldering beauty in the group finally puts it together, as she says...

Smoky: That guy spiked our drinks!

Curly: That dick!

It was at this point that Deuce reaches over the bar and grabs him by the shirt, dragging him over the bar and slamming him down to the ground. One of the bottles in his hand explodes open, the cork flying upwards into the club, landing God knows where. Meanwhile, Deuce slams himself into the bartender, before gaining the mount and slamming his ham-like fists into the gaping maw of this sleazy barkeep. Satisfied that his point was made, he pulls the scumbag to his feet, picking him up overhead, before flinging him back over the bar, smashing him into several overhead glasses. Mod then pulls out his billfold, while Roger comes from behind the bar with an armful of bottles, to include an unopened bottle of Glenfiddich and three bottles of Cristal. Mod drops a wad of bills on the bartender, as he says...

Mod: This should cover everything, but if you even bother reporting this, I will find where you live, and I'll destroy you and everything you own. It'll be like you never fucking existed! You understand, fuck-face?

He got no response, not even movement. Dude was out cold or worse. He didn't care.

He signals for the others to start leaving, and nobody gives them any static as they left. Everyone was too stoned to care, and this wasn't the type of place that had bouncers. As he made his way to his truck, to which Blondie finally felt smart, noting earlier how she called him a trucker, he got to thinking about what raYne had said before.

Mod never considered himself a hero. He was just another working stiff getting up and earning a paycheck anyway and everyway he knew how to. But maybe there was something there...

Perhaps because of the time we all live in, doing the right thing constitutes being a hero. It used to be something that was expected of everyone. Now everyone just keeps their heads down in fear of reprisal from bad people. Mod remembered his grandfather talking about how in his day, if someone was known to be bad, they did something about it. No fear of the police protecting their so-called "rights". Hell, the Nazi's were crushed by the entire WORLD because everyone knew just how bad they truly were.

Well, if that's the case, then I guess "The Upgrade" Mod Deuce is a bona fide hero. A blue-collared, hard-talking, even harder-drinking, whore-chasing, cake-eating, pudding-pounding hero.

God help us all...

____________________________________________________


Mod: I really have nothing to say to you, about you, or anything at all...

A camera is fixated on Mod. Only a profile view of his head and part of his shoulders is seen in the shot. He's in his wrestling attire, with his trucker hat fixed backwards on his head, as he continues to speak...

Mod: Seriously, you've got nothing else to say, windbag? I'm shocked. I'm even hurt that you can't come up with anything else to say. You have SOOOOOOOOO much to say about everybody else here, I was certain you were going to say something derrogatory about what I've said so far. Maybe another round of calling me "Mod Douche". You're such an original guy coming up with something like that. I'm sure you're not the first person ever to spell your name with a random capital letter in your name. You're something else, I say...

The camera pans out even more, and we see that Mod is talking to what appears to be a sex doll, dressed like raYne. The weirdest part is that in the pants of raYne is an obvious poking implement coming from the crotch area. Mod continues to talk to the doll...

Mod: I know you've got a little hard-on for me. That was painfully obvious from the very first day you arrived here. I just don't dig you like that. And I don't dig whiny little bitches that get up in my shit. From the very moment you arrived here, you've just stirred up shit left and right. Its amazing you're still drawing breath. Oh, don't worry. I'll save your execution for out there. I want the whole world to see just what I'm going to do to you.

The doll just stands there, as the camera pans in on it. The face is obviously from a sex doll. There's no definition whatsoever, just a big "O" where the mouth is...

Mod: I know, I know, you're scared. I see the look on your face. But don't worry. Rape will NOT be involved in this match, just a brutal beating where copious amounts of blood loss and a potential trip to the ER. I wouldn't think of touching your sanctimonious ass with ANY part of my body, with the exception of my foot. You're on a whole different level than I am sexually. I'll just have to stick to what I know, while your "evolved" self goes and pollutes both the male and female population. Dr. Frank N. Furter would be so proud.

Anyways, if you got something else to say, I'll be around. But seriously, that look on your face is so PRICELESS! I don't know whether to unzip or bust your lip. I'll see you around...

Mod turns around slowly, before he fakes like he's about to hit the doll. The doll doesn't move, because its just a doll. Mod walks away after the show, keeping an eye on the doll as the scene fades out...
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
====================================================
"Road to ONE, pt.3 -- The New Shit [Match RP#1]", by raYne
====================================================


NOTE: unlike the preceding parts of 'road to one', these last three are all match roleplays. odin... break out the template.




the following blog post was obtained from rayne-bow.cjb.net on the date of Wednesday, December 11th, 2013 @ 3:16pm --


Dear WCF,

Last night was the most remarkable, spectacular night of my life.

For on that night, the person that means more to me than anything or anyone on this earth made me the happiest person alive-- her vision met mine, she gazed straight into my heart and soul, with those gorgeous, beautiful grey eyes... and she told me she loved me.

For the past several hours, my life has been heaven.

But in eleven days?
I march into hell.
My head held high...
And one thing on my mind.



Her.


Yes, Moddie... that's right. You'd expect me to be focused squarely on you, right? You'd expect that my sights would be locked on your big, fat, bald head... right? That, if I want to win, if I wish to emerge victorious, the ONLY thing on my mind should be the man that's seething with rage after I DESTROYED his precious peterbilt pick-up... Right?

... Wrong. You couldn't be further from the truth.


You see Modster, buddy, in the past? I lacked true motivation. Sure, when I faced the Dhampir, Vlad, I sought revenge. He burned down my home, my jungle, the raYne Forest.

Mod, after I wrecked your vehicle, I brought forth your fury. Your wrath. After I took away the truck you spent every night passed out in after an all-day bender...

... that man set flame to an entire forest. A vast stretch of land, burnt to a crisp. Torn asunder, and he didn't think TWICE about it. People talk about how I bitch, moan and complain. Moddie... you may believe I don't know real pain... but I do.

When I faced Javex Valerius, my childhood hero, the Deite's Dragon... I was a rookie. And he was the XAW World Heavyweight Champion. And ever since I was a young boy, I held a secret I couldn't share with anyone.

JVX was my first male crush. And I fell hard. I didn't understand WHY I felt that way, I just did. I felt the same way about Javex that all my friends did about Pamela Anderson, or Angelina Jolie, or the local weather gal. The difference between my story and most that start out that way, is that I felt that way about the weather gal as well. But with Javex, I knew there just had to be something wrong. While I shared that same feeling that many of my guy pals did about female celebs... I knew none of them had those same feelings when it came to the men. That was a feeling that was supposed to be reserved for girls, with their Barbie dolls and EZ-Bake ovens and all those other tired cliches.

But when I saw Javex, with his wind-swept hair, and his glistening abs-- and the way he would soar through the air. He was always cool. Always calm. Always collected. His personality shone through in each and every last performance he gave. And when he spoke, I was captivated. Just like I am when I hear the gal's voice over Skype... in absolute awe. Star-struck. I longed to meet him in person, to know that MAYBE, in some small way, a guy like that could give a damn about me...

And so, years later, before I faced him in one of my first in-ring encounters, I saw him. Backstage. And my eyes widened. My pulse raced. My heart seemed like it could beat through my chest at any moment. I felt beads of sweat forming along my brow, and my hands began to shake. My nerves were shot. And he was coming my way.

I opened my mouth.
I told him I loved him.
And he laughed in my face.

...I felt like I could die.
Like I would be willing to make it so.
To never open my eyes again.
To never feel another pulse.
To never take another breath.

To rip my heart out of my own chest...
Though I felt as if he'd already done it for me.

I wanted to break down in tears. I wanted to bury my face in my hands, take off, and never let anyone see me again.

But as he passed right by me, brushed my shoulder as if I wasn't even there... I felt something in my heart.

After it broke, shattering into a thousand pieces and scattering across the floor... it began to reassemble.

Only, the jagged pieces were all that remained. It didn't feel like it was whole, some pieces were missing and what was left, fit to one another, but barely. Held together by the cheapest of glue.

And all of it blackened. Twisted.

That was the night I gave into the hate.
The night Reeve Gordon was born... again.

You may believe that words don't hurt, Moddie. But they do. Sometimes, though, silence hurts worse. It can cut like a knife. And while my heart, mind and spirit lie there, a bloody mess... my body walked through the curtains. I marched toward the ring, a ring encased by three or four tons of steel... a triple decker cell. We fought. For his World Title. He had chosen me as a warm-up, for his upcoming pay-per-view main event against Steven A. Kult. And he thought I'd be a pushover.

But I gave him more than he could ever imagine.

Every time he brought me down, I fought back. I rose up. And I kept on him, and I kept on him, and we battled from the bottom of the structure to the very top of that three-tiered cage. The title hung high above, and I should have been focused on it. I should have had my eye on my reason for fighting. Or at least, what SHOULD have been my reason for fighting. It was right there, within my grasp. I could have reached out, pulled it down, and won the greatest prize that company had to offer, in what was only my fifth or sixth televised contest.

But instead? All I could see, in my mind's eye, was what had taken place a handful of minutes before. The person I'd idolized, the first man to capture my heart... as he virtually spat in my eye and said everything you've said about me... without saying a word.

I was consumed.
I saw him climbing up the cage wall...
And I walked right past the title...

...Reaching down, grabbing him by the wrists, and forcing him off the top of the cell. Tossing JVX to the ramp below. He left a permanent dent that remained for a year. A reminder.

I felt a darkness creep into every facet of my being. An unexplainable, unshakable evil... My eyes stared down at his motionless body. And I loved what I saw. The man I'd looked up to for so many years, I now looked down upon. For he fell...

... hard.

I finally turned my gaze back to the belt above. But just as I did, Javex's best friend, Leary Garcia, stepped in front off me. While my focus had been trained on the carcass of the Dragon, Leary had scaled the cell. He had grabbed the belt, and proceeded to bludgeon me in the skull with it. And I fell. Not quite the fall Javex had taken, but I did drop to the roof of the second cage, and the match was ruled a no contest.


Mod, in all of that, one thing remains perfectly clear.
I was driven by fury. Anger. Contempt. Rage.

Revenge.

When I faced Javex, I had it all within my grasp. The opportunity to climb to the top of the heap in a matter of weeks, just as I'd stepped foot into the industry for the first time. But I let it slip through my fingers. Instead, I chose vengeance. And in the end? I was left with nothing. Just as when I faced Vlad, after he'd brought my raYne forest down to smoldering ash. I had chance after chance to claim something of his-- the Cruiserweight title. And yet? Every single time, I was overcome with a madenning hatred... and it tripped me up, again and again. I am straight edge, have been since birth. But for years, far, FAR too long, I've been addicted to one thing.

Revenge.

The insatiable desire to take the pain I've felt all my life, and to unleash it upon the world from whence it came.

And that same anger, Mod, is the same I see in you.



...And I couldn't be happpier.
For that anger shall prove to be your undoing.

Mod. Let me ask you a question.
What do you think I really looked to gain from blowing up your truck?
Hint-- it's the exact same thing Vladdy-kins hoped to achieve by burning down my Forest.

And he did
...And iAm.

You're pissed off.
You're ticked off.
And you're consumed by anger.

Just as I was.
And your judgement is clouded.
Just as mine was.
And you will slip up. Make a fatal mistake. And you will fall before me.

Just as I did before the Dhampir.

Every day, my phone rings off the hook, 24/7. My door has people banging on it from morning well into the evening. And I receive email affter email. Lawyers. Yours, WCF's... I can't escape them.

And that, Moddie? That's just fine. I've got cash. I've spent over a decade in this business, saving wisely each year. And at this point, I have enough cash to keep those jackyls at bay for eons to come, and then some.

But more importantly, come the 22nd? ONE, live from the Staples Center in L.A. The endless barrage of attorneys, the names you've hurled in my direction, every last pitfall I've had to cross along my 10+ year journey...

It will all be worth it.

Every drop of sweat, every ounce of blood, every tear I've shed from physical pain, emotional agony, spiritual suffering and mental torment... it's all going to pay off.

Why?


Because for years, revenge has been my only motive. To seek retirbution for the pain I've been dealt. To make others suffer as I have suffered.

No more.

Now?

SHE... is my motive. My reason. My reason to take care of myself, to become 100% again. My reason to fight, my reason to live. She urges me forward... and I move. And I keep pushing onward, fighting, never giving up, never calling it quits. Making it happen. Because I'm no longer driven by anger.

I'm driven by passion.
Her love.

My Goddess.
My "Sissy".

The only person on the face of the planet that I KNOW, without a shadow of a doubt, would love me, unconditionally, for all that I am. Every last jagged piece. The light and the dark. The day and the night. For better or for worse.

For what seems like ages, I have been lost. Wandering in a sea of spite, and lashing out at any and all that cross my path. Every time I'm within a hair's distance of glory... I have it snatched away. By the person in my reflection. Because all this time, anger, rage and fury have been my reason for fighting.

No.
More.

Now? She is.
She is my guiding light.
While you are driven in the sake of revenge...
iAm driven in the search to prove her right.

She believes in me. And I shall spend every waking moment showing the world why she has a reason to.

I told you three nights ago, at Slam, after I set your truck on fire... that this is personal. And it is. Because there is nothing in this life, that is more personal, than the one we love. And from this point forward? I live for her.

As for you? You are a game piece, Mod. In your quest to prove how different you are from me? You proved yourself to be a spitting image of my past.

A past I have left behind.

And I used the same hatred that once consumed me, to my very own advantage. I realize now why Vlad chose my Forest as his target. Because he knew my emotions would get the best of me. I would swing blindly, strike wildly... and I would fall. And I did. Every time.

And Mod? You will fare no differently. You stand where I once stood. Only the roles have been reversed. And this time... I no longer have a black heart, broken into fragments. Scattered and strewn about, trying oh so desperately to piece myself together again.


Thanks to her...
iAm whole.
iAm new.
iAm better.

Than you...
Than I ever was.

And at ONE?
You will be the one to break.
As I watch you shatter before my eyes.
Forget the umbrella.
Bring a broom.

Hannah Jo...
This ONE's for you, babygurl.


~ r.

<#
'ours'


"Hearts are overrated."
~ HJMMM


|t.b.c.|

#r_u_motherfuckers_ready?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
=====================================================
"Road to ONE, pt.4 -- Fight Like A Girl [Match RP#2]", by raYne
=====================================================



'My heart is a weapon of war.
My voice is my weapon of choice.
An eye for an eye,
A heart for a heart,
A soul for a soul.
We fight for the dream,
We fight to the death,

'We fight for control.'
~ Emilie. Fucking. Autumn.


Friday the 13th, -- Dec. '13 -- 3:13pm [CST]
Nowhere, Oklahoma

"You surround yourself with whores. With booze. With anything to mask the pain inside.

"Mod... I told you.
I know you.
iAm you.

"Or at least... I was."

The scene opens to the inner sanctum of a temple. The church that had been mentioned in a previous raYne promo. The one he erected in his own home, The Mac Manor. A tribute.

To her.

raYne sits upon a pew, his black leather, dirt-encrusted workboots firmly resting on the back of the seat in front of him. He wears a pair of rugged, shredded jeans; his hair is long, flowing, jet black with blood red highlights. Upon his crown, he wears a black baseball cap, pulled backwards, with the 'anarchy' insignia stitched across the front in red. His hands are slipped into a pair of black, leather biker gloves; around his throat, he wears a black choker, lined with red spikes; and his t-shirt is crimson red, with one symbol emblazoned across the front in black--

<#

Below this, in small text, it reads-- 'ours'.

raYne sits, his arms folded behind his head, his eyes staring straight ahead at the pulpit. He looks well-rested. Healthy. And for him, that's an odd sight as of late. For months, years even, raYne had been living in a personal hell. A hell that caused him to neglect himself. To mistreat himself. To hate himself.

But ever since he began to speak with her-- that began to change. It took a while. A LONG while. A change that's still taking place, step by step, day by day. But slowly, surely, he was undergoing a transformation. She pieced him together... making him whole again. He began to eat, every day. To sleep, every night. To take his meds morning, noon, and right before his head hit the pillow. Old habits die hard. Bad habits die harder. But with her help, he was slowly overcoming each obstacle he'd placed in his own path. With her guidance, he broke through all those barriers he'd raised over the years... they all began to crumble & vanish, within a matter of nine months.

She was his miracle worker.
His savior.
His Goddess.

$hane stares ahead, eyes set upon the pulpit at the front of the temple. He chuckles lightly to himself. Facetiously.

"21 years. Twenty-one years, Moddie. That's how long I spent burying myself in my own sorrow. Since age eight. That Halloween, my favorite holiday of the year... ruined. I came home from trick-or-treating, and my reality came crashing down around me as soon as I stepped through the front door.

"You wanna talk family problems?
Moddie... I have no family.
None.

"No blood relatives, anyway. My mother left me that night. She found my father, in bed with my babysitter. After years of putting up with physical abuse, mental, emotional, every kind you can think of... that was the last straw. She packed her things, she told me one day she would come back for me... and she was gone. Haven't seen her since. Lived with that BASTARD till about age thirteen, seeing him fondle my 'sitter on a daily basis. While he called me every name in the book.

"You know what's funny, Mod.. you know what's REALLY fuckin' funny?"

As soon as these words escape raYne's lips, he shifts forward in his seat, placing his feet solidly on the ground. He folds his arms in his lap, gazing down at the floor below... he's seething.

"Every name. EVERY. SINGLE. FUCKING name... that you hurl at me? Came from my father's mouth. 'It'. 'He/she'. 'Faggot'.

"Moddie... you are a lucky, LUCKY son-of-a-bitch. And you wanna know why? Because you HAVE a father. Yes, he's locked in a cage, yes, he only sees you when the guards give the ok, YES it must be hell for you...

"... but you wanna know what true hell is?"

At this, raYne whips his head to the side, glaring into the camera's lens. A fire burns behind his eyes, and his face is twisted into a callous expression.

"True hell, Moddie, TRUE hell... is knowing that the man that gave birth to you. The man that brought you into this world. The ONLY blood family you have left. Doesn't give one. Single. FUCK about you. And would honestly rather see you rot in hell than spend one day tossing around a baseball. Would rather your flesh melt from the bone and have you spend an eternity skewered with pitchforks as you gasp for one drop of water... rather than tell you he loves you.

"That Moddie... that is hell."

raYne stands from his seat, placing a hand on the back of the same pew his feet had been resting on. He lowers his head slightly, his eyes still trained on the camera. He begins to breathe heavily... takes in a long, drawn-out breath through his nose, before releasing through his mouth.

"So, yes, Mod... words hurt. They DAMNED sure hurt. You can mask it behind some explanation of 'bad gay' as opposed to 'good'. You can try and spin it however you wish, to make it appear as if others of my ilk would laugh right beside you.

"But my personal truth. MY BELIEF...
Is that you are a heartless, cold, shallow individual.
Just like my dad.

"And when we step into the ring and square off, face to face, nose to nose? That's what I will see. I will see Frank Gordon, the sorry son-of-a-BITCH that raped my childhood. The man that left me as I was for years... till she sewed me back together. And made me a better person... gave me new life. Reborn. What he made me died the day she came into my life. The 'Reeve Gordon' that was brought forth from that alcoholic, narrow-minded asshole is no more. The old me... the one that was afraid. The one that drifted from federation to federation, in a dire quest for a home he could never find."

raYne gazes off to the side. He speaks, in a hushed tone, without glancing at the camera.

"The past is left behind.
The future begins right here
Right now.

"And now...", raYne turns one eye to the lens, "... I HAVE a family. Not blood. But better. My 'Sissy'. The one and only person I can put my faith in. The person I believe in... and who motivates me to believe in myself.

"...and she's just as fucked up as iAm."

raYne lifts his head, focusing soley on the camera
Before giggling.

"Moddie... I keep telling you.
You don't know me... NONE of you do.
But you will.
You wish to make a statement?
At ONE... a statement will be made.
But it damned sure won't be the one you're expecting.

"Keep your eyes open."

raYne smles. An odd, almost unnerving smile... before brushing past the camera. As the scene fades.


~ ? ~

Nov 27, 2013 4:40:52 GMT -6 @moddeuce said:

And then it dawned on him. This whole "meaning to life" thing. Its just like this travelling thing. It doesn't matter the destination, but rather the journey. How you get there is what counts, and what you did during the journey is what matters the most.

It doesn't matter that he has static with raYne, or that he's facing three guys at the next edition of Slam, or the fact that Sarah Twilight has so much contempt for the members of the roster. Its all about how to handle all of these situations. Just like how he dealt with Detroit by leaving it behind. How he handled college by saving for his return. How he took care of his brother by sending him money from his work while staying in the good graces of his aunt for the time being. That is all this is. A damn test to see how one handles it all.

His first test is three other unproven wrestlers on the main stage. After that, well, who knows? Maybe raYne will face him like a man, or woman, or whatever term the androgynous use to portray their presence. And maybe, just maybe, he'll make some headway into WCF. Win a few titles, make some cash, but more importantly, find out just what kind of man Mark Jorgensen, or better yet, what kind of man Mod Deuce, really is.

"It's all about the climb, y'all..."
~ Miley Montana


'We are under attack...
What is the body count?
I’ve lost track.
If nobody’s mentioned how this will end,
Then I’ll be the first...

'There are more of US than there are of you,
So SHOW ME YOUR WORST.'
~ E.Autumn


Saturday -- Dec. 21st, 2013 -- 4:20pm [CST]
Nowhere, Oklahoma


He stood on a stool, before a bar counter. Inside a bustling club.

HIS club.

Club raYne Dance.

"RAYNE! Babe, how's it hangin', mi amigo?! Long and strong, I imagine!"

He knew this voice. Unfortunately...
It was the voice of World Sports Entertainment Chairman of the Bored-- Jack Hoff.

"raYne-y, baby, cookie, honey, monkey--"

"OH WILL YOU KNOCK IT OFF?!"

raYne shouted at Jack, causing many of his club patrons to turn their attention toward him. He smiles, meekly, waving them off.

"Dammit, Jack, I thought next time you were gonna call first?"

Jack pulls up a seat. He's fat. He's bald. And he looks like Carl from Aqua Teen Hunger Force.





Yip. That's him. Stained wifebeater, dollar store flip-flops and all. 'Cept he's not holding a giant meatball.

"C'mon raYne, ever since ya left WSE, the people have been chantin' ya name, BEGGIN' for ya return! 'raYne! raYne! raYne!' That's what they chant, ever night!"

"Jack."

"Yeah raYne?"

"Nobody watches WSE."

"... Well hell, I know that, but IF we had fans, that's what they'd be chantin'!"

"You're drunk again, aren't you Jack?"

"...lil' bit."

raYne drops his head into his folded arms, atop the counter's surface. Club r.D. is a drug-free bar. No alcohol. No ecstasy or cocaine or even tobacco. But what it does have? Is tons of sweets. And I mean TONS, this place is loaded with chocolate, cookies, cake, donuts, pie, candy corn [yes, some people actually like that crap, hard to believe i know] ... As well as a fully-stocked, old school malt saloon. Not to mention Kool-Aid of every flavor imagineable, including root beer. Plus, they have root beer. Actual root beer, not colored water.

raYne speaks, his voice slightly muffled as his face is buried in his arms. "Jack... what the hell are you here for?"

"raYne, I sold WSE."

"Yay."

"You sound over-joyed, yeesh..."

"Not really. But I am hoping you wrap this up so I can go talk to the gal on Skype..."

"Well, raYne. I've got news for ya."

"You sold WSE to the re-animated corpse of Michael Jackson?"

"Nah, I learned my lesson the first time..."

"The sad thing is, that actually happened."

"Naw, I've got some news for ya that will make you pretty damned happy. Believe me."

raYne lifts his head, and stares at Jack, waiting for him to spill it.

"... I'm the new mayor of Somewhere."

It takes a bit for this to sink in... but suddenly, raYne's eyes widen, and his mouth is left agape.

"Y-Y-You're the MAYOR... of Somewhere? As--As... As in..."

"Yes. Somewhere, Nebraska. As in, the home of Hannah."

raYne's eyes become as wide as saucer plates. He smiles. Wider than he has in years.

"... Jack... I think I love ya, man."

"That's right, raYne-y baby, and I'm in talks with the gal...
... I gotta feelin' things are about to change for ya.
For the better."

raYne grins from ear to ear, actually hugging the man he had just wished death upon within the confines of his mind.

raYne releases his grip, before shaking his head, the smile firmly attached to his face. Not even plastic surgery could remove it.

"Jack... have Tony pack my bags.
We're movin'."


~ ? ~

'It’s so easy to kill,
This I learned by watching you
If I have to, I will,
It’s not pretty but it’s true
I am through lying still,
just a body to be
Beaten, fucked, and if I’m lucky, left for dead,

'So who's scary now?'
~ E.A.


the following blog post was obtained from rayne-bow.cjb.net on the date of Sunday, December 22nd, 2013 @ 4:55pm --


Dear ModDeuce.

you talk about how nobody fights for anything anymore. mod... you're a womanizer. an alcoholic. and you ARE a hero. a hero to drunks. and a hero to misogynistic bastards. bastards like my father. i can tell you right now... he'd be rooting for you. i... i walked into this company fighting for an entire community. i represented them. but now, i realize... iAm not their hero. they detest me just as oh so many others do. for my attitude. my negativity... i bring them down. so i no longer represent them... i represent her. i fight for her. in her name. so that the world may see in me, what she sees every time she turns on her computer.

tonight...
i have one fan
watching at home
cheering me on.

that's the only reason i need.

see you in the ring, moddie.

Believe.

~ r.


~ ? ~


'No mercy, it’s a bit too late,
The game is on
Don't run, don't hide, don't wait
‘Cause if we’ve got no honor,
Then we’ve got no shame,
If it’s in self-defense,
Then we will take no blame

There is no such thing as justice,
All the best that we can hope for is revenge
A hostile takeover,
An absolute rebellion to the end.
This is our battle cry
I'm giving you a head start, you're going to need it,
'Cause I fight like a girl.

I’ll get my revenge on the world or at least 49% of the people in it
And if I end up with blood on my hands
Well, I know, that you’ll understand,
’Cause I fight like a girl.
~ E.A.







1st match --
==========

Kyle Steel: The following contest is scheduled for ONE fall!

"Won't Back Down" by Eminem blares on the PA. On the right side of the stage there is a bike ramp that extends just about to the middle of the Titan Tron. Atop the bike ramp is Jeff Purse. He is sitting on his bike, looking out upon the audience. He throws one hand in the air as the audience cheers.

Kyle Steel: Introducing FIRST, from Venice Beach California! He is a former World Heavyweight Champion, standing six feet, two inches tall, he weighed in tonight at two-hundred and FIFTEEN pounds... he is The Future, JEFF... Puuurse!!

"You can sound the alarm
you can call out your guards
you can fence in your yard
you can pull all the cards
but I won't back down
oh no I wont back down
oh no..."

At this he sets off down the ramp. Directly across is another ramp on the left side of the stage, which Purse heads for.

"Cadillac Sevilles, Coupe Devilles
brain dead rims yeah stupid wheels
girl I'm too for real
lose your tooth and nails
try to fight it, try to deny it
stupid you will feel
what I do, I do it well
shooting from the hip, yeah boy shoot to kill
half a breath left on my death bed
screaming F that yeah super ill"

Purse flies up the other ramp, launching off of it. He pulls off a small back flip, rides down the rest of the ramp, and comes to a screeching halt in the center of the stage. He gets off, kickstands it. He looks out, smiles, and throws his arms in the air. Red and Blue pyros explode behind him

"I cut my toes off and step on the receipt before I foot the bill
listen garden tool, don't make me introduce you to my power tool
...you know the fuckin' drill."

He starts off down the ramp as Kari joins him, slapping five with fans, walking very casually but at a quick pace.

When he gets to the ring he jumps up on the apron and quickly makes his way in through the middle rope, while Kari walks around the outside, pumping up the crowd. Jeff stands in the center of the ring, "air guns" a corner, pyros shoot out of it. He subsequently does that for every other corner, pyros of red and white shooting out every time.

"These other cats ain't metaphorically where I'm at, man
I gave Bruce Wayne a Valium and said --
Settle ya fucking ass down,
... I'm ready for combat, man."

As the music fades out, Jeff anxiously awaits his competition.

Erin Robbins: After watching Jack Happy's promos for this monumental event... I gotta admit. I like the new attitude...

Zach Davis: And we're about to see that new attitude in action, as he's the next man to step through those curtains!


Kyle Steel: And his opponent...

"Confessions of Hatred" by Sevendust blares over the PA as the entrance ramp starts to fog up. Red pyros go off on either side of the stage and other red laser beams begin to shoot through the fog.

Kyle Steel: Hailing from Pittsburgh, PA... he stands at an even and EVIL six feet tall... he weighed in tonight at a simply VILE three hundred and twenty pounds... he is the RingMaster of Mayhem... the nightmare of the big top... the sad clown himself, Mr. Jack... UNHappyyy!!!

As the camera pans towards one of the luxury booths, we see Jessica Alba sitting in it, dressed in black. She stands up and smiles happily towards the fans and gives a thumbs up, nodding as if to say, 'yes.' She then starts to shake her head 'no' as she frowns, turning her thumb down and mocking the audience. As the camera returns to the ramp, we see Mr. UnHappy emerge from the back. Walking to the ring with a bit of a swagger, he slaps food and drinks out of people's hands and even does the 'boo hoo' gesture to any kid he sees in attendance. Sliding into the ring, he finds a corner and intentionally turns his back to Jeff. Looking over his shoulder, he takes a few moments to make derisive comments before finally getting RIGHT UP in Jeff's face to glare at him, giving a menacing grin.

Zach Davis: Jack has turned his back on the fans, and he's made it clear that he's no longer the smiling, happy-go-lucky individual many have come to love. This, sports fans, is a whole new Jack!

Erin Robbins: You're right about that, and it's about damned time! It's about time that clown wisened up and realized that these PEOPLE aren't worth the effort. They don't know a TRUE hero when they see one! They cheer Jeff on like he's the second coming, but he's nothing more than an egotistical PRICK! And Jack is about to put that prick in place!

Zach Davis: But Jeff's accomplishments speak for themself! Hardcore champ, U.S. champ, Tag champ, TWO TIME TV champ, and former WCF World's champion. No matter how you may feel about the man, Erin, it is undeniable that he's earned every one of those accolades!

Erin Robbins: He can have all the accolades in the WORLD, but he isn't dealing with the same Jack we've grown to know here in WCF! This man is reinvigorated, and he's finally focused on what counts... inflicting PAIN! And that's exactly what Jeffrey is about to feel, first hand!

Zach Davis: Well, the bell has sounded, and we'll see just who does rise above by the end of what is sure to be a heated battle!

As the bell sounds, the two men begin to circle one another. Jeff goes in for the hook-up... but Jack rolls out of the ring! He begins pacing ringside.

Zach Davis: This is totally unlike Jack...

Erin Robbins: I told you! This isn't the same Jack, you buffoon, this Jack doesn't foolishly rush in! He's not allowing Jeff to dictate the pace, and he's luring the guy into a more methodical match!

Zach Davis: But Jeff isn't going to have any of it! Purse immediately rushes toward the far ropes, rebounds, and quickly runs across the mat... Jack seemingly doesn't notice as Jeff runs toward the side of the ring near Jack... Jeff SOARS over the ropes!

Erin Robbins: YES! And he CRASHES! Jack DID see it coming, and he stepped right out of the way! I TOLD you he's got this match headed right where he wants it. He's no longer playing to the crowd, he's in control, and I tell ya. As long as he keeps THIS attitude? He's gonna be one to watch out for.

Zach Davis: You may very well be right Erin... Jack walks toward the fallen Jeff, and reaches down, going to rip him off the floor by the head... but Purse is fighting back! 'The Future' delievers right and lefts from a kneeling position, trying to get back into this thing. He hooks his arms around Jack's head, and brings him crashing down with a jawbreaker! Now JACK is reeling!

Erin Robbins: Dammit, he wasn't ready for that! He had this thing set, and now Jeff has to have his moment playing the 'hero'.

Zach Davis: The man is a valiant fighter, and no matter how high the deck is stacked, there is no quit in him. He isn't going to let Jack steam roll him, whether Jack's Happy, or UnHappy, he's gonna get the fight of a lifetime!

Erin Robbins: Jack stumbles back a few steps after that jawbreaker, and now Jeff is bringing a few clubbing blows to the more powerful man's spine. Jack lifts his arms up trying to swat away Jeff's, but Jeff is keeping on him like George! on a nerd.

Zach Davis: ... that's the only metaphor you could think of? Really?

Erin Robbins: Shut up, you NERD!

Zach Davis: Apparently Logan's not the only one who's been hanging around that pair of bullies... but regardless, Jeff uses shot after shot to drive Jack into a corner of the fan barricade... he moves back a few paces... before rushing in, leaping into the air, and clotheslining Jack over the top and into the fans! The ref has reached the five count, and this one could be declared a double count-out!

Erin Robbins: That's what we get for throwing out the No DQ stip for ONE night... I blame Seth.

Zach Davis: ... why?

Erin Robbins: ... And Jeff is slowly returning to the ring!

Zach Davis: Nice save...

Erin Robbins: Jeff is trying desperately to make it back to the ring, and though he's hurt, Jack is still managing to stay hot on his trail. Jeff slides in under the bottom rope, just as Jack clamors to grab him by the leg. Jeff makes it in, and the ref is at the eight count. Jack climbs onto the apron, and begins to climb through the ropes... but JUST as Jack gets his head through the ropes, Jeff catches him with the enziguri! Jack crumples through the ropes, colliding with the canvas!

Zach Davis: Ever since dropping Jack with that jawbreaker, Jeff has maintained control of this bout. And he doesn't look to be slowing down any time soon.

Erin Robbins: Just give it time, Jack has STILL got this match well at hand. It's all part of the new game plan, he's causing Jeff to slowly become overly confident... and any minute now Jack is gonna snap Jeff right back into reality!

Zach Davis: That remains to be seen, Erin... Jack lays on the mat, trying to recoup, while Jeff heads up top. Once he's climbed to the top turnbuckle, Jeff motions toward Jack, waiting for Mr. UnHappy to regain his footing. Jack slowly makes it to his feet, with his back turned to the corner where Jeff looms above. Jack turns around... and Jeff launches himself toward the sad clown...

Erin Robbins: HELL YES! Jack snatched Jeff right out of mid-air, and he's got him trapped in the bearhug! That's what I was talking about all along, Jack was merely picking his spot!

Zach Davis: That may be the case, or perhaps Jack has finally caught a second wind, but either way, Jack is now back in control! And he's slowly wrenching the life out of the much more agile Purse!

Eriin Robbins: He can be 'agile' all he wants, as long as he's locked in that bearhug, it's gonna take a lot more than moonsaults and enziguris to break free!

Zach Davis: But Jeff is giving it all he can. He tries to drive a fist into Jack's masked face, but Jack is hardly affected. Jeff continues to send fist after fist into Jack's mush, but Jack simply squeezes tighter, till Jeff slowly begins to succumb.

Erin Robbins: Squeeze the life out of him, Jack! Show those fans what their hero's made of... FLESH AND BONE, just like any other! He's no SuperMan, he's a human being, and he's getting the air gripped right out of him!

Zach Davis: Jack clamps down harder and harder, till Jeff is seemingly out of it... the ref grabs his hand, and lifts it up... and it drops. The audience is cheering Jeff on, trying to pull him back into this thing, but the ref drops the hand for a second time!

Erin Robbins: This is it! After Jeff made it seem as if Jack was unworthy of standing across the ring from him, Jack is in the middle of that ring, and driving the very life from Jeff's body. For someone that's 'unworthy', Jack is about to become the man that puts down the so-called 'Future' at the biggest event of the year!

Zach Davis: The ref grabs ahold of Jeffs hand one last time, and raises it up high... before releasing...

Erin Robbins: NO!, No, no, no, no, NO! DAMMIT!

Zach Davis: Jeff raises the fist high and proud! He's STILL got life left in him, and his tank hasn't run out of fuel just yet!

Erin Robbins: This is a travesty of justice! Jeff should be laying in a heap on the mat right now, and Jack should be standing tall! You can bet your ass Jack is only gonna make things worse for Jeff after that!

Zach Davis: Jack still has his arms around Jeff's waist, but 'The Future' is now sending elbow after elbow into the side of Jack's skull! Jeff hooks Jack's head underneath his elbow, and DROPS him with a vicious spike ddt!

Erin Robbins: Dammit to hell! Jeff was dead, Zach, he was DEAD! And now the 'hero' is making his BIG comeback. Well, he better relish it, because before long? It's gonna come to and end, and Jeff is going to get EXACTLY what he deserves!

Zach Davis: Now both men are laying flat on their backs in the center of the ring... Jeff is the first to show signs of conciousness, as he turns over on his side, and reaches out for the middle rope. He grabs on, and brings himself back to a verticle base... he turns around-- SAMOAN DROP!

Erin Robbins: There we go! Jeff crashes with the canvas, and Jack has risen once more! He's visibly shaken and running on adrenaline, but he's STILL running, and this one is back in his hands!

Zach Davis: Just as Jeff brought things back around in his control, the RingMaster of Mayhem has turned the tables once again. Jack pounces on the fallen Purse, and begins DRIVING his knuckles into Jeff's face. UnHappy is like a madman possessed!

Erin Robbins: As he should have been a LONG, long time ago. There have been a LOT of men that have gone to the darkside in this sport, and the ones that succeed are always the ones that simply toss out the rule book, turn their backs on these ungrateful fans, and become the MONSTERS they were born to be. This is the Jack that should have stepped into WCF from day one!

Zach Davis: Well, now we ARE at ONE, and we're witnessing a Jack that's been unleashed. He's going wild on Jeff, and is still raining down punch after punch to the cranium. Jeff fights to shove Jack off, but he's taking a beating. Jack sends one more fist, and connects with Jeff's nose... he's been busted open!


= = = = = = =
Jeff's Ending
= = = = = = =

Erin Robbins: HA! Mr. OCD has gotten all dirty! And he's bleeding like a stuffed pig! Try cleaning that one up, Jeffrey!

Zach Davis: Jeff seems as if he's suddenly gained some sort of fury, though... he IMMEDIATELY shoves Jack off, and rolls out of the ring... He stumbles over toward Kari, who quickly attempts to help Jeff by cleaning the blood from his nose and face.

Erin Robbins: NOW who's running from the match?! Mr. 'Hero', Mr. 'Good Guy'. HA! This guy is a bigger joke than Jack is! He's escaping the match just because he got a little bit of blood drawn out of him! Jeff, get back in the ring, and let Jack finish this! Then ya can go back home and clean all you WANT!

Zach Davis: Now Jack rolls out of the ring, and he marches toward Jeff... who reels around and SOCKS Jack right in the face! Jack drops insantaneously! Jeff has a look in his eyes even more dangerous than that of Jack's! Jeff reaches down, grabs Jack by his dreads, and tears him off the floor... Spinning heel kick! Jack falls back again, on his side, and Jeff looks ENRAGED! He pulls Jack back off the floor, and rolls him into the ring!

Erin Robbins: The HELL?! This canNOT be happening! Jeff was dead, AGAIN! It's almost as if Jack woke the bastard up after ruining his face!

Zach Davis: It seems as if that OCD of Jeff's can actually fuel the guy into reaching another level! He's kicked it up to the next gear, and he's not letting up! Jeff slides into the ring... he takes to a corner, and Jack is SLOWLY, very slowly, making it to his feet... he turns around, RIGHT into the Spoke superkick! Jack is down AGAIN, and Jeff stumbles back into the corner. He's suffering, he's hurt, but he is ALIVE and kicking. And he is not done... Jeff climbs up to the top turnbuckle...

Erin Robbins: Oh no... not this... DAMMIT, JACK, ROLL OUT OF THE WAY YOU IDIOT!

Zach Davis: Jeff soars through the air, and hits The Deflator! The five-star frog splash connects, and Jeff holds for the pin...


1...


2...



... 3!!!


Erin Robbins: NO!!! No! ... GAHHH!!! I... I call shenanigans!

Zach Davis: Jeff took this victory fair and square, and you KNOW it Erin! He fought through the pain, the blood, and all the torment, and he's pulled it off!

Erin Robbins: This is the worst moment in ONE history! Jeff should be lying in a pool of his own blood, he should--

Zach Davis: He's celebrating, that's what he's doing! Kari is in the ring, and she's hugging her man, as the audience is raining their support down upon both Jeff, as well as his lovely gal! This isn't the 'worst moment' in ONE history, this is a moment that will be remembered. Jeff has fought through it all, and he's sharing the victory with his beautiful girlfriend! Erin, even YOU have gotta admit this is a MARVELOUS moment!

Erin Robbins: ... I want a burrito.


= = = = = = =
Jack's Ending
= = = = = = =

Erin Robbins: HA! Mr. OCD has gotten all dirty! And he's bleeding like a stuffed pig! Try cleaning that one up, Jeffrey!

Zach Davis: Jeff seems in bad shape... Kari looks on from the outside, and she doesn't like what she sees.

Erin Robbins: GOOD! Serves her right for hooking up with such a NERD!

Zach Davis: Erin, you've been hanging around Kevin and George! far too much... but meanwhile, Jeff is desperately trying to wipe the blood from his nose, focused on cleaning himself... Jack descends upon Jeff... and he's locking in the UnHappy Ending! He's got the modifed camel clutch cinched in!

Erin Robbins: Tap Jeff! Tap like the bitch you are!

Zach Davis: Jeff tries to make it to the ropes, fighting as much as he can... but the more he fights, the more wind he loses... he's out of it! His eyes have shut, and the ref's lifting his hand once again... once... twice...

Erin Robbins: ... YES!! Yes, yes, yes, YES!!! I TOLD YOU! I TOLd you, Zach! Zach... admit it. I told you.

Zach Davis: ... yes, you did Erin. You said Jack was going to take this one, and after Jeff's hand fell for the third time, Jack has been declared the winner...

Erin Robbins: IN YOUR FACE JEFF! You thought he was 'unworthy'?! Ha, and DOUBLE HA! Jack just KILLED Jeff Purse!

Zach Davis: Well, I wouldn't say he 'killed' him... but Jeff is certainly unconcious...

Jack chuckles demonically to himself, before rolling out of the ring. He walks toward the announce table, and motions toward Erin... who hands him a burrito, all too proudly. Jack then YANKS the microphone from Hank, and rolls back into the ring. Microphone in one hand, burrito in the other, Jack lowers to one knee, and speaks in a hushed, sinister voice, glaring at the fallen Jeff Purse...

Mr. Jack UnHappy: Jeffrey... I know you can hear me, Jeffrey. Next time you wanna play 'hero'? Make sure the villain isn't a three-hundred pound clown with a chip on his shoulder. I told you, Jeff... I may be the clown? But YOU'RE the joke. And this? ONE? This was the punchline. Have fun cleaning, Jeffrey... and start with that nose of yours.

Jack drops the microphone, and stands up. He lifts the burrito up to his mouth, takes a HUGE bite, and begins to munch down... before staring down at Jeff... and TOSSING the rest of the burrito down upon the broken body of 'The Future'. Jack smiles, a creepy, demented smirk, before slowly shaking his head... and rolling out of the ring.

Erin Robbins: I fucking LOVE this new Jack! As long as he stays like this? He'll have at least one fan. I need to re-stock on burritos... I'd LOVE to see more of that!

Zach Davis: Erin, that was a disgusting display of poor sportsmanship, and coming from someone once so beloved as Jack... it's very dissapointing.

Erin Robbins: Oh shut your trap, Davis! Jack has been reborn! And this only the beginning!

Jeff slowly regains conciousness, as Kari steps through the ropes, and into the ring. She crouches down to console her boyfriend, holding Jeff close to her, trying to comfort him... but it's clear that Jeff isn't going to be able to get over this defeat so easily...


======================================================================


-- the following is the only match i competed in for wcf, my character was raYne

= = =

Kyle Steel: The following contest is scheduled for ONE fall!

"Space Truckin'" by Deep Purple begins to play, as Mod Deuce steps out onto the ramp, raising his huge wrench in the air, before walking straight to the ring with a scowl on his face. There is no showboating from Mod Deuce this evening, as he methodically makes his way down to the ring.

Zach Davis: Wow. Mod Deuce sure is serious tonight!

Erin Robbins: Despite the fact that he and raYne are both pretty damn new to the company, they've got quite a heated rivalry going on here. These two men do not like each other one bit, and clearly Mod is taking this match on the grandest stage WCF has to offer very seriously.

Deuce gets to the ring and slides in below the bottom rope. He settles himself onto the middle turnbuckle, waiting for raYne to come to the ring...

The lights dim. The tron fills with the sights of a jungle... flashing by, one by one, before we see a river. The River raYne, within the confines of the raYne Forest. The sounds of a marching drum can be heard in the distance, and a figure is seen standing upon the edge of a cliff, overlooking the sprawling sight below. A guitar begins to play... The figure extends his hands to his sides... Words flow from the speakers--

Then the drums are replaced with the sound of Steven Tyler as he begins to sing "Dude looks like a Lady", as the tron shows a man in a stark white background dancing in a Captain Condom outfit, with various types of dildos strapped to his midsection and head. As a close-up with the camera reveals the man in the dildo suit, it is none other than Mod Deuce himself! The fans have a huge laugh at the absurdity of the video and the song, as he walks around in Las Vegas, chasing both men and women, humping the air as he does so.

The cameras pan into the crowd, as several young men are bowled over laughing, while several other fans jaws have hit the floor. Several parents in the crowd cover the eyes of their young children. raYne looks at the tron in absolute disgust, and with rage in his eyes, he charges the ring and attacks Mod Deuce before the bell rings.

~ ~ ~

Zach Davis: raYne is infuriated after the "technical difficulties" his entrance has suffered, and he's slid into the ring!

Erin Robbins: 'The Storm' goes right after Mod, but 'The Upgrade' rolls out of the ring, letting raYne stew in his anger. Deuce is clearly upset as well, after the chaos raYne wrought upon his beloved truck.

Zach Davis: Tensions are running high in this one! After the damage raYne did to Mod Deuce's prized Peterbilt, Mod has one thing in mind-- revenge.

Erin Robbins: This is raYne's debut match, and he's already drawn a wave of hatred upon himself... But hey, he's made an impact. He's made a name for himself, for better or worse. And his debut comes on the grandest stage of them all... and I'll say this. Who the hell cares what everyone else thinks? I don't give a DAMN what anyone says about me, and I do just fine.

Zach Davis: But from my research, I've noticed that pretty much every company raYne has worked for, things have ended the same for him. Sure, it's respectable to not let others' opinions bring you down... but there's gotta be some sort of line. And it's clear raYne's crossed that line when it comes to his opponent tonight, the very first challenge in raYne's stay here in WCF, Mod Deuce.

Erin Robbins: After a handful of seconds, Deuce steps onto the apron and over the top rope... the two stand across the ring from eachother, glaring one another down, and JUST as soon as the bell rings, Mod is all over 'The Storm'! Mod rushes forth with a lariat, which raYne ducks under. raYne runs toward the ropes, springboards off, and flies back toward the ring... only to be LEVELED by a wicked clothesline!

Zach Davis: You can see the rage in Mod's eyes. raYne may have only seen that vehicle as a truck, but to Mod, that was both his livelihood, as WELL as his home. raYne has brought down the wrath of a no-nonsense man on a mission. While raYne certainly made an impact in his debut, setting Mod's truck ablaze, 'The Upgrade' is hell-bent on doing the same here tonight. He wants to send a message, that he isn't one to be taken lightly.

Erin Robbins: Mod begins to drop knee after knee into every corner of raYne's body, making sure raYne feels every blow. Mod then takes a few steps backward, bounces off the ropes, and then comes forth at full speed... DROPPING a knee right into the face of raYne!

Zach Davis: raYne has gotta be in a world of hurt right now. Mod lowers down over raYne, and begins to choke the very life out of him! The referee admonishes Deuce, trying to pry him off, but Mod isn't having any of it! He reels back for one more strike, brings the fist toward raYne... but raYne blocks!

Erin Robbins: I dunno how he did it, but raYne has grabbed Mod's hand RIGHT before it connected! And it's a good thing, cuz that one looked to have some force behind it!

Zach Davis: Mod tries to rip his hand away, but raYne has his brightly colored, glitter-adorned nails DIGGING into Mod's hand, and it doesn't look like he's letting go. raYne uses Mod's own hand and arm to pull himself back to his feet... He then leaps into the air, and connects with a spinning heel kick! Mod stumbles back a few feet, but he isn't going down.
Erin Robbins: Mod is without a shadow of a doubt one of the largest competitors this company has ever witnessed, and it takes a LOT to put this big man down!

Zach Davis: raYne makes it to his feet, before rushing toward the ropes near Mod, leaping onto the middle rope, turning around in mid-air... and he hooks his arm around the head of Mod, bringing him down with a lightning quick tornado ddt! ... but JUST as Mod goes down, he's already sitting back up!

Erin Robbins: This man is a machine! Which is fitting given his background... He's already starting to stand up again, and raYne's eyes widen with shock. raYne begins to deliever straight, precision kicks to Mod's chest as the big man sits upon the mat. But after taking a few blows, Mod manages to grab the leg before it makes impact!

Zach Davis: Mod pulls himself to his feet, with assistance from raYne's own leg... he pulls raYne in, and drops him with a huge spinebuster!! And the ring rattled with that one!

Erin Robbins: Mod goes up top... and drops the diving headbutt!! ... but raYne rolls outta the way! Mod's head connects with nothing but canvas, and raYne is trying to regroup.

Zach Davis: 'The Storm' slowly drags himself over by Mod. When he reaches his foe, raYne begins to wrap his arms around Mod's neck and head... he's got Moddie locked in the crossface clutch!

Erin Robbins: The simply painful submission is cinched in, and raYne has turned this one around in his favor, and in a hurry. Capitalizing on one mistake, and raYne is back in the game!

Zach Davis: But Moddie seems to be stirring... he moves his legs, trying to get up, but it's an uphill struggle. He eventually makes it to a knee... now he's crouching... and before long, OH MY GOD!!

Erin Robbins: SIDEWALK SLAM! Mod Deuce has managed to fight through that hold, grab his bearings, and he's RIGHT back in the thick of things! raYne cannot seem to manage a sustained offense in this, his debut outing here in WCF.

Zach Davis: Whereas, Deuce is putting on QUITE an impressive display here in his debut WCF pay-per-view. And what better event to show what you're really made of, than the biggest show of 'em all?!

Erin Robbins: A great point, Zach. Moddie is bringing the hurt, and almost every fan in the building is 100% behind 'The Upgrade'. Though, I'll admit, there are a few scattered chants urging raYne to get back into this thing.

Zach Davis: Mod reaches down and hooks raYne by the arm... he SLOWLY pulls raYne over to a corner, before heading to the top turnbuckle. Mod lifts up an index finger, and it looks like he could be going for his patented avalanche!

Erin Robbins: Mod's got raYne reeling, and this move very well could be the decisive blow. Mod grabs the ropes, bouncing so as to add momentum to what could be the nail in raYne's coffin... he leaps for the body splash...

Zach Davis: ... raYne rolls out of the way AGAIN!! Every single time Mod tries to fly, raYne has managed to avoid the impact! There's definitely still a few gears moving in raYne's engine.

Erin Robbins: You trying to rub salt in Mod's wound, or what? Watch it with the tech references, or he'll be liable to watch this tape back and drop you on your empty head!

Zach Davis: That may be, but right now, Mod is grabbing at his stomach and chest after missing raYne by a foot. raYne gets to his feet... before leaping onto the middle rope, springboarding off, and hitting the moonsault! He goes for the quick cover, but hardly gets a one.

Erin Robbins: It's gonna take a HELL of a lot more than that to put Deuce down, especially after he's dominated most of this competition thus far. raYne springboards off the ropes once more... elbow drop! Mod visibly feels that one...

Zach Davis: But raYne is seemingly out of breath. He bends at the waist, clutching his gut, sucking in wind... He's taken a beating, but despite it all, he's still hanging in there, and giving it everything he has to reclaim control. As one of his mottos goes-- 'whatever it takes'.

Erin Robbins: And it's gonna take whatever he's GOT to put Mod down for more than a one count. Speaking of whom, Deuce is making his way back to a verticle base... raYne rebounds off the far ropes, leaps into the air, and catches Mod with a flying forearm! But again, it doesn't take 'The Upgrade' down.

Zach Davis: Mod does, however, stumble back a few steps, as raYne leans with his back against the ropes, trying to regain his composure. He's breathing heavily, but it's clear he's still got a lot of fight left in him.

Erin Robbins: raYne shoves off the ropes, rushes toward Mod... but Mod catches him with a boot to the gut!! He lifts raYne up... and OVER, with a perfectly executed gutwrench suplex!

Zach Davis: And here comes another Mod onslaught. Deuce lifts raYne back to his feet... before lifting raYne overhead in a military press... followed by simply dropping raYne behind him, sending 'The Storm' crashing straight to the ring mat. Mod then bounds off the ropes, comes back and leaps into the air, dropping a tree-trunk sized leg right across the back of raYne's neck!

Erin Robbins: And raYne shakes from the effects of that one! Mod stands to his feet, and lets out a hushed yet sadistic laugh, relishing the pain he's bringing to the guy that ruined his most prized possession. Deuce lifts raYne back up by the arm...

Zach Davis: SHORT-ARM CLOTHESLINE!!! And just as Mod brought raYne to his feet, Mod's brought him RIGHT back down to the canvas. But he didn't let go of the arm... Moddie pulls raYne back up once more... he pulls in raYne, the artist also known as '$hane-o-mac 3ry', and LEVELS him with a destructive powerslam!!

Erin Robbins: raYne just hasn't managed to truly get out of the starting gate against this much larger, much more powerful opponent. What a welcoming committee...

Zach Davis: In raYne's first match, he's put in an amazing effort, but he's been matched up against a behemoth of a man in Mod Deuce. And it looks grim for the newcomer...

Erin Robbins: And Mod is right back to pulling raYne to his feet... Mod wrenches the arm, twisting it, and he looks to be going for the hook kick to the face, which he calls the 'Reboot'!

Zach Davis: Mod is about to hit the maneuvre-- MY GOD!!

Erin Robbins: VELVET CUTTER!! raYne just reversed Moddie's signature 'Reboot', right into a signature of his own-- the modified Diamond Cutter! And Mod is suddenly layed out on the mat!

Zach Davis: raYne collapses into a corner... exhausted from everything he's been through. He makes it to his feet... and seems to be motioning for something. Mod gets up from the mat, and turns around-- RAYNE MAKER! The superkick connects! Mod's out like a light!

Erin Robbins: raYne's heading up top! And in a matter of moments, the entire complexion of this contest has changed! raYne stands upon the top turnbuckle, and he blows a kiss to the audience... before SOARING with the Swanton... and CRASHING!

Zach Davis: He went for it all, took the risk, but he crashed and burned! This time it's Moddie's turn to roll out of the way. And raYne is arching his back in pain after that... he's surely gotta be feeling every bit of that missed attempt.

Erin Robbins: Both men are laying on the mat, gasping for air... after a few moments, Mod's making it to his feet, with help from the ropes. He pulls himself up using the ring ropes, and proceeds to rip raYne from the canvas... he's going for the 'Reboot' again!

Zach Davis: But raYne reverses... 'The Storm' reels in 'The Upgrade', and he's going for the-- IT'S HIS MOVE!

Erin Robbins: Oh MAN... not THAT!! The worst move in pro wrestling HISTORY--

Zach Davis: THE GOODNIGHT KISS!! raYne is looking for the dreaded lip lock, a move he's laid on the lips of countless superstars over the years, ever since stepping into the business way back in 2000. But Mod-- HOLY SHIT, Mod just bit raYne's tongue!!

Erin Robbins: The F*CK?!

Zach Davis: Mod has found the only way to counter such a maneuvre, and it's worked DAMNED well!! raYne releases the hold immediately, holding a hand to his mouth, trying desperately to fight the pain.

Erin Robbins: Mod swipes at raYne's cranium with one of those massive hooks he calls hands. The blow strikes hard, and raYne falls against the ropes... Mod whips $hane-o across the ring, into the far ropes.

Zach Davis: Mod goes for a big boot.. but raYne ducks under the incoming foot! raYne rushes off the other set of ropes, speeds toward Mod, who turns around... right into a running european uppercut!

Erin Robbins: That added momentum just knocked Mod right upside the jaw, and he's feeling it! raYne kicks Mod in the gut... Moddie doubles over... and raYne goes for the Vertebreaker, a move he refers to as 'The raYne Drop'...

Zach Davis: ...but Mod is far too heavy to pick up for the finisher! Mod backbody drops raYne up and over... Mod falls into a corner... he heads up top, and he seems to be looking for--AND IT CONNECTS! ModDeuce hits the big body splash from up top, and raYne is FLATTENED!

Erin Robbins: Mod stands up once more, and he's once again heading toward a corner...

Zach Davis: raYne looks out of it...

Erin Robbins: Mod's signaling for something... raYne slowly makes it to his feet... FRAG OUT! The two-handed chokeslam connects!!

Zach Davis: And now Mod is gesturing that this one is over, as he drags his thumb across his throat... he lifts raYne to his feet... COMPLETE OVERHAUL!! The jumping fisherman brain buster hits hard, and Mod goes for the pinfall...



1...
2...



3!!


Erin Robbins: ... and now Mod's got his crescent wrench! He sizes raYne up... 'The Storm' begins to stir... he stands, and-- WHAM!! Right in the face with the wrench! raYne is down, and he's busted wide open!

Zach Davis: Alright, he's taking things a little too far now!

Erin Robbins: After what raYne did to Mod's truck, I don't think he's taking it far enough! but I'm sure he'll handle that... blood is dripping from the open wound on raYne's forehead, and Mod isn't done quite yet! He pulls raYne back to his feet... he shoves $hane-o into a corner, sizes him up, lining him up for another shot from that wrench, and-- WHAT THE HELL?!


Suddenly, the lights cut out...

"Prelude 12/21" by AFi begins to play over the speakers...

An enchanting melody... followed with the words of Davey Havok.

''This is what I brought you this you can keep,
This is what I brought you may forget me.
I promise to depart, just promise one thing,
Kiss my eyes and lay me to sleep...'


The lights begin to flicker with dark hues of crimson red, as a pounding beat begins to echo through the arena...


'This is what I brought you this you can keep,
This is what I brought you may forget me.
I promise you my heart just promise to sing,
Kiss my eyes and lay me to sleep...'

At these words, the tron begins to come to life... displaying one image.


<#

...with the word 'ours' scrawled beneath in blood red.


'...Kiss my eyes and lay me to sleep...'

'This is what I thought,
I thought you need me,
This is what I thought so think me naïve,
I promise you a heart you'd promise to keep,

'Kiss my eyes and lay me to sleep...


The tempo steadily increases, the pace swiftly moving, as the music continues to play... the drums beating harder...

Inside the ring, Mod drops the wrench, looking confused at the display... he drives a few elbows into raYne's head, keeping him in a bad way, before 'The Upgrade' pushes raYne down to the mat. Mod stands tall, glaring out at the stage... preparing for whatever, or whomever, may be coming...

Havok's voice rings out...

'Kiss my eyes and lay me to...
Sleep.'


As soon as this one word filters through the speakers... the lights cease their flickering, cutting out completely. The tron shuts down. And the speakers begin to play a different tune from AFi...

"Miss Murder".


Zach Davis: What on earth...


The lights return, "Miss Murder" continuing to play... as a figure is seen standing on stage. A gal, with hair dyed hot pink, wearing a spiked collar around her throat; a black t-shirt with the ' <# ' symbol emblazoned across the front in red; and a shredded pair of blue jeans. She wears a crimson red, studded belt; a dark orange, tattered hoodie with the hood pulled back; and black leather, fingerless biker gloves. Zach Davis recognizes her from one of raYne's promos.

Zach Davis: Ladies and gentlemen, that's the very same girl raYne has been speaking to via Skype for close to a year now! The two have appeared talking to one another in a few of raYne's videos... and it seems as if they're finally meeting in real life, as opposed to online. And if ever there was a time raYne needed her, that time is now!

Erin Robbins: I'll say! And the chick is holding... is that a CHAINSAW?! Mod may have a crescent wrench, but it's no match for THAT thing!

Zach Davis: raYne's "Sissy" as he calls her is slowly stalking down the ramp, carrying the chainsaw. It's of course not powered on, but it's still a very formidable sight, and she's headed straight for ModDeuce...

The gal makes a beeline for the ring, gripping the chainsaw in her clutches all the way.

Zach Davis: Mod stares the girl down... she looks tough enough to be a combatant herself, as if she could easily stand toe-to-toe with at least half the WCF roster.

Erin Robbins: Moddie glares down at raYne... before turning his sights back to the approaching woman. He gestures for her to 'bring it', and she does!

Zach Davis: Mod calls the gal for a face off, and she obliges, picking up pace, before sliding into the ring, carrying the chainsaw! She swings it right at Moddie, who ducks under...

Erin Robbins: That thing may not be turned on, but you can bet your sweet ass it would hurt if had made contact with Mod's skull!

Zach Davis: The gal drops the chainsaw, and glares at Mod. Mod simply chuckles, eyeing raYne. He then looks back up at the gal and shakes his head, knowing he's gotten the better of 'The Storm' on this night.

Zach Davis: He's got a cocky grin on his face, as he raises both of his fists to the air, and MANY of our fans are showering him with adulation. He sought his revenge, and he captured it, getting a huge win in his WCF PPV debut!

Erin Robbins: A victory in his first big-time bout, at ONE, the most important night on the company calendar! And he did so against the man that cost him his prized Peterbilt. He's sent the message he was after, and he did so loud and clear!

raYne is left a broken mess on the ring canvas, barely concious. His friend lowers down, before carefully rolling him out of the ring, and putting an arm around his shoulder once they're on the outside.

Zach Davis: raYne appears to be half-dead, barely managing to stand... he surely can't realize who's saved him here at ONE.

She places the palm of her hand gently on raYne's bruised side, her other arm wrapped around his shoulder as she looks at him, waiting for him to collect himself. His eyes slowly flutter open... and once he can see again, he looks to his side, his eyes locking with those of the girl... he seems to the mouth the words "you're here..." to which she responds... "iAm". raYne gives a weakened smile, but a twinkle is left in his eye. He's broken... but he knows she can piece him back together.

Erin Robbins: raYne may have lost the match, he may be battered, bloodied and bruised... but he's finally got someone to pick him up when he falls down... which, after tonight's showing, may be often...

Zach Davis: Erin!

Erin Robbins: Hey, I'll admit, the kid put in one helluva effort. Mod walked away with the win... but it looks as if raYne's gonna be walking away with something as well. Or should I say, someONE.

Zach Davis: raYne and his "Sissy" are embracing! raYne almost falls into her arms, after that beatdown at the hands of Deuce. She holds him close, comforting him...

Erin Robbins: And after getting dismantled by 'The Upgrade', he needs all the comforting he can get...

Zach Davis: She wraps her arms around the trembling body of $hane, as some of our fans are actually cheering on the display... the first meeting the two have had in person!

Erin Robbins: It's beautiful...

Zach Davis: ... is that a tear, Erin?

Erin Robbins: NO!! Hell no! ... It's these damn onions...

Zach Davis: What onions... ?

Erin Robbins: ... And the emotional meeting continues, as raYne's gal pal escorts him up the ramp, and to the back, to the ovation of many of our fans!

Zach Davis: ... nice save.

Back in the ring, Moddie motions for a microphone to be handed his way. He lifts it to his mouth and speaks, bellowing with pride.

Mod: Let that be a lesson to anyone in the lockeroom that wants to mess with the biggest dog in the yard! WCF... consider yourself UPGRADED!!

"Space Truckin'" hits on the speakers, as the WCF Galaxy roar their approval. Deuce raises a hand over the top rope, and he's tossed a can of beer. He signals for another, and catches it in his other hand. As "Space Truckin'" blares over the audio system, Moddie takes to the ring post, popping the two cans open, sending suds spraying into the front row. Mod tilts his head back, and downs both cans at once, before hurling both empty cans into the hands of the WCF faithful. Mod pumps his fists in the air, as the scene ends on Moddie celebrating the moment, his first WCF PPV victory, on the most spectacular night of the year.