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X-treme Wrestling Federation BOARDS » Savage Boards » "Savage Saturday Night" RP Board
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Lacklan Offline
Low Effort



XWF FanBase:
The 'cool' kliq fans

(booed by casual fans; opportunistic; often plays dirty while setting the trends)


Post: #1
09-06-2019 08:45 AM


Sulfur.

Smoke.

Thick in the air.

Thick in the nostrils.

Heavy coughing.

Blurry eyes.

When it finally subsides, the oddly red eyes of Sarah Grey-Lacklan look through tears to the burned ground before them. A massive dark patch of scorched earth takes up a hillside and dares to swallow up what remains of a house with white foundation. Blackened boards litter the dark ground and a soft wind blows up dust, the embers long since died from their fleeting, yet destructive, life from a few days ago.

“...I can’t believe it…”

Sarah’s high Londoner voice is scratchy, her throat filled with smoke. She tries to clear it, but every action seems to make it worse, and it pains her. The vlogging wrestler reaches into her bag, a dark affair that matches the black and grey pantsuit she wears in place of her usual dress, and pulls out a bottle of water, the name of Fiji and its bright pink hibiscus seeming an affront to the devastation surrounding, and takes a swig to help wash away the dust. After pulling from her lips, devoid of any paint today, she hands the bottle over to Kenzi, who takes it with a thankful nod. The caramel-skinned starlet, also dressed darkly to deal with the burning ash, has her microbraids pulled back away from her head in a thick tail.

“...its so sad.”

“If there is anything we can do…”

Sarah takes Kenzi’s hand as she directs her voice behind her, and her eyes glisten again with tears.

“...anything at all...you let us know, understand?”

Behind the duo, two men stand huddled together. Thin and muscular, with cheeks sharp and chiseled and with a grey in their unshaven faces showing their age, the men hold one another for support, their bodies shaking slightly, and have haunted eyes which have seen much in a short amount of time.

“...thank you. Thank you both.”

The speaking man, taller than the other, has a high and thin voice, not unlike that of Sarah.

“I just wish I knew what happened! The police are saying arson, but...but...why? Who would DO this?!”

Sarah and Kenzi shoot one another a quick glance, eyes full of worry. And knowing. Kenzi speaks up as she puts on a smile that brightens her face.

“I’m sure the cops will figure it out! That’s what they do! Are you sure you don’t want to stay at our place? We have WAY more room than we need.”

Sarah nods emphatically at Kenzi’s words, but the speaking man shakes his head.

“No! I wouldn’t hear of it! Brenden’s sister Krirsten has a room for us.”

The shorter man nods slowly at this and the taller man smiles.

“And don’t you worry! We’ll be back to beat your booties at Charades before you know it!”

The two couples give a laugh at the declaration, a laugh with far more worry than mirth. Before long, the Grey-Lacklans are making their way to their car, parked out front of what is left of the Winslet Estate, their hands clutched in a death grip.

“...we have to tell them…”

“We can’t, Beloved! WE know that the Hooded Man did this...the dipshit literally admitted to as much live on television...or on whatever shitty stations would axly carry XWF programming...which probs just means 3 AM on Cartoon Central, or something...but its probs a GOOD thing that he torched the completely wrong house!”

“But I feel bad!”

“So do I! I mean, it sucks and all, obvs, but what are we supposed to do? Tell the cops...who are STILL mad at us for a thing or two...that some douchebag who cries about not getting to talk to me on some social media board...while posting fifteen dumb things on a board that can’t be responded to and wondering why people weren’t responding...sweet Baby Jesus, I attract the DUMBEST stalkers...set fire to the WRONG house, even though I have LITERALLY shown what it looks like on television multiple times? They’d never believe us!”

Kenzi shakes her head as she ducks into the passenger side of their car, a sleek black replica of the famous Knight Industries KIT.

“Still...we need to do something for them. Maybe we-”

She screams as she gets jerked backward into her seat when the car takes off without any further warning, Sarah already behind the wheel and speeding forward in her typical reckless fashion.

“Yeah, you’re right. We-”

“JESUS LOOK OUT”

Sarah narrowly avoids the fountain in front of the Winslet Estate, the car careening past with but a few inches to spare on her side, but her words never slow.

“-should probs do something to raise some money or something. Like-”

“HOLY SHIT”

Again, Sarah jerks the car the opposite way with a painful screech of tires as they avoid a city truck parked in the long driveway.

“-remember how you went to that animal banquet with Seb? Which totes should have included bunnies and pigeons and stuff. Maybe we can host something like that for Brenden and Ashton.”

Kenzi forces herself to breathe slower and smoother, forces her fingers to relax as they clutch the seat in desperate panic, as the two of them move from the driveway to the road leading to their own house in the hills of Hollywood. She looks to her right and into her side-view mirror, seeing what was left of their neighbor’s house.

“He got it wrong this time, babe. But he may not next time. We need to do something.”

Sarah sighs deeply as she slows the car upon the approach to their gate. A massive beast of black wrought iron, the central piece featured an ornately written “G-L” and housed a small shack occupied by a man with a buzzed head wearing a black military uniform with silver pins. The man’s face is no-nonsense, the face of a soldier, but he gives the duo a deep bow as the car comes to a stop. Sarah slams her foot on the gas as soon as the gates open enough to permit their car, with Kenzi screaming out and again clutching the seat in near panic, and then finds herself lunging forward as the car comes to a sudden halt before their oddly-shaped house, the screech of tires filling the air.

“That’s what all the extra security is for, Beloved!”

Sarah gives Kenzi her legendary Billion $$$ Smile before exiting the car, though it takes the suddenly pale-faced Kenzi a moment to recover from Sarah’s “perfect” driving. She shakes slightly as she, too, gets out of the car, and is thankful for the helping hand of one of their employees. Four women, each wearing black dresses with the lavender, red, and silver slashes of color which had come to represent the Grey-Lacklan duo, are there to escort them into the house, with one of the women holding a parasol for Sarah to walk underneath. Before long, the two are in the tall white house, with Kenzi giving Sarah a quick peck on the cheek before hurrying towards her small studio, her fingers already flying away on an iPad with instructions for her film crew, and Sarah heading towards the back door.

“I’m coming, my lovelies! Mama has yum-yums!”

As Sarah walks through a sliding glass door and into the back yard, an employee still trailing behind her to hold a parasol above her head to offer the albino’s sensitive skin some protection from the harsh Southern California sun, she carries a small sack of Thicboi pigeon feed in one hand and a tiny bag of cat treats in the other. She pauses as she steps out onto the cemented walk, the odd red eyes behind her thick glasses locking on the burned husk of her closest neighbor’s house a block away, and shakes her head. She breathes in deeply and heads onto a grassy knoll, past a new section of blacktop fresh enough for the stench to sting her nose as much as the fire from a few days before, to where a large bird coop resides.

“Gah!”

She stops suddenly as two feline forms crawl out from under the coop, one black and one white, both with menace in their eyes and tails sticking straight up in the air. She opens the tiny bag of treats and empties the contents onto the ground, little shapes of fish and birds in a variety of colors, and the two nearly-feral cats attack them with a growl. Sarah shivers as she skirts past them, her hands shaking slightly at the sight of the two cats first tearing the tiny heads off the treats before devouring them, and into to the coop she goes. She sighs a long breath of relief and then lets her voice raise into the air.

“Ah Ah AHHHHHHHH…..AHHHHHHHHHH….ahhhh…..ahhhhhhhh”

With a flutter of wings more massive than a hurricane's gust, white shapes fly from all around as Sarah flings out handfuls of birdseed. The albino carrier pigeons, each as pale white as the Anarchy Champion’s hair, descend upon the offers with thankful abandon. Sarah smiles contentedly as she lowers herself to the ground and reaches out her hand for a pigeon to hop atop.

“Bonjour, Penelope. You guys doing okay with all that nasty smoke in the air?”

The pigeon coos in response to Sarah and nuzzles into the crook of her elbow. Sarah sighs as she strokes the pigeon lightly on the head.

“It was a lot of work to install those air filters in your coop, but I’m glad I did! And the water purifier, obvs. Nothing but the best for my babies!”

Sarah sits in quiet contemplation for a moment, enjoying the pecking sounds of her dozen pigeons eating, but then she groans.

“Ugh. Work. I’m pretty tired, Penelope. Wrestled TWICE this weekend! Won them both, obvs, because that’s what mama does. Wins number 80 and 81! Getting closer to that 100! Oh! That reminds me…”

Sarah reaches into her purse and pulls out a pad of paper and one of her quill-and-ink sets. A quick dip of the nib into the ink is followed by her writing tiny script on the paper.

So...you coming back to work or nah? Time is of the essence, padawan

First capping the ink bottle and placing it and the feathered pen back into her purse, she then rips off a slip of paper from the pad, folds it into a tiny star-shape, and attaches it to the pigeon’s foot. She leans in close, whispers into the pigeon’s ear, and gives it a kiss atop the head. Instructions received, the pigeon takes flight out of the coop and heads away from the setting sun.

“No time.”

Sarah’s voice falls and her eyes glaze over, looking at nothing, seeing nothing.

“Never enough time. I can feel it pressing in, kiddos. Time. Death. The Abyss.”

She sits in silence.

“No time.”

She gives herself a shake and her eyes find focus. She smiles as she looks around herself and again sees her flock of pigeons.

“Oh, my babies! Such a GREAT team you all make! Just like your other mama and me!”

She giggles and claps her hands together.

“I TOLD everyone in the XWF...literally just about daily since I first showed up in late February...that I was just the tip of the proverbial iceberg! My Beloved was the REAL star! And everyone got to see that in action as the SWEETEST booty in ALL the land drove some afterthought’s head into the mat while I tripped up Mr. I’m So Original Watch as I Cut a Promo While Sitting in a Chair. EVERYONE saw as the 5’2” Mafia, #TeamKickass, won yet ANOTHER match together!

“Of course, that means that we’re in the semis of this tag tourney we’re in, obvs. And against a team that basically got to walk in for free by getting to face those two CWC dipshits who thought they were special SIMPLY because of their sexual preferences. What dumb shit. Legit, Fuzz has a right to gripe! THEY had to face US! The APEX had to face freakin’ LUX and CENTURION! But Team Oh Shit Can I Get A Replacement?! and that OTHER shitty-as-flame team in the semis got to waltz right in without actual challengers! Lets see dem brackets, bay-bay! But, hey, is what it is!”


She shakes her head slowly and lets out a sigh filled with mirth.

“Sers legit, you know its a shitty situation when my Beloved and I once AGAIN end up facing a bullshit pseudo team in a tag tournament! I mean, its bad enough that the tag champs are doing that lame-as-flame ‘DER HUR YOU NEVER KNOW WHO YOU GONNA FIGHT’ crap from the 70’s, but the fact that their equally lame counterparts in a stable battle that literally no one is paying attention to ALSO get to do that is just lazy. Sure, they are ‘legends’ or whatev, but everyone time jumps onto one of the boards with ‘Why, back in MY day-’ my vagina dries up like a sponge left in Death Valley during a record-setting heat wave! Every time someone is all ‘OH EM GEE! You guy have NO idea!’ Bitch, please. Page and his cronies are so full of cliches and generic insults that the BEST thing they could come up with to shake the company to its core was steal Main’s championship! Legit! STOLEN CHAMPIONSHIP! At least that Soldier dude had the balls to AXLY fight Main for it! And kinda-sorta rape people in a fictitious hallway. Kinda gross, that.”

She shakes her head again as her pigeons gather around her, each cooing in contentment and satisfaction of their dinner and company.

“I mean, honestly, Famine is the kind of guy who just drones on and on without ever actually saying anything that wasn’t covered by Lovecraft eighty years ago. For fuck’s sake, we’re talking about a shadowing figure surrounded by the...and this is fucking legit and I’m not even pulling out my ‘make up a fake summary of your bullshit’ bit that Raven tried to steal from me today...howls of tormented souls. And here I thought that Ashcroft’s Twilight shit was bad! But at least Ol’ 294853300 Year Old Mick didn’t drop eyerollers like telling someone that-”

Sarah lowers her head and drops her jaw, jutting it out so she can push down into bass.

”-you’re going to experience pain and suffering like you’ve never felt before.”

She clears her throat and shakes her head.

“Honestly, who axly SAYS shit like that? Oh, that’s right, old dudes who fought a bajillion years ago and want you to think that taking down freakin’ GILMORE at Leap of Faith is a testament to their legendary badassary. Dipshit losers who have to sit at their televisions, praying and hoping that their opponent is going to produce their promotional video first so that they can watch it and figure out SOMETHING to say because they got NOTHING in the tank without being TOLD how they are supposed to feel about them. Broken down dudes who literally are only in this match because their boss is taking pity on them and letting them have a participation trophy and giving him a do-over. For the love of fuck, I wonder if Page is going to cry to Price or Vinnie to let him have a THIRD shot in the tournament after he loses a SECOND time by becoming a part of Apex! Hell, THAT way he’d have ANOTHER partner that he can’t stand!

“Kenzi and I just beat a team so loosely connected that their only thread was a lame cry for fatherly love and NOW we get to beat up a team that hates one another? Holy Hackneyed Plot Twists, Batman! Its the newest ‘Tag Partners Who Don’t Get Along’ entry over at tvtropes.com! Every single time Ken and I, a well-oiled machine that is a LEGIT 13-3 as a tag team, beat the everloving PISS out of one of them, the announcers are gonna be all ‘ERMAHGERD! IS HE GOING TO HELP HIS PARTNER! OH, HE HATES HIM! HE HATES HIM! HE HATES HIM!’ Just one long match full of Kenzi and I busting out our amazeballs timing and trust, all of our training, in and out of the ring, being put on showcase, and THESE two idiots being too busy being mad about shit from a dozen years go to function in 2019!”


Sarah pauses for a moment and strokes her chin.

“Welp, at least Slater isn’t AS massive as a loser as Famine. I mean, he doesn’t pull that ‘HOLD ON LEMME WATCH YOUR PROMO BEFORE I RECORDS MINE I’M SO FUCKING BRILLIANT !!!!!CLICK!!!!’ pathetic shittiness that his partner does. That’s a LITTLE better, ya konw? I mean, he still does dumb shit like dropping the ‘spoiler’ tag on things and not knowing the difference between your and you’re, but still BETTER than Famine! Well, unless he gets pops for roids...again. And it IS kinda sad that his most important accolade to date since returning is that he’s one of ten names that jobbed the fuck out for Corey’s pretty epic Television Title reign.

“Oh, and another thing! I-”


She cuts off as she hears an orgasmic sigh pierce the air of the coop. Sarah reaches back into her purse and fumbles around until she pulls out the bane of her existence, her matrimonially obligated iPhone. After far too many button presses, she finally remembers how to access her text messages and sees:


Sweetest Booty in ALL the Land!
🍑📞

“Oh snap! Booty call! I gotta go!”

Sarah rushes to her feet, sending her birds flying, but even in her haste, she takes the time to blow them all goodnight kisses before heading back towards the egg-shaped, and still very much hale, house known as “Lacklanland West.”
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"Loverboy" Vinnie Lane (09-06-2019), Corey Smith (09-06-2019)
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