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X-treme Wrestling Federation »   » Archives » "WAR GAMES 2015" RP Board
Bourbon for 2016(Collab with Robbie Bourbon)
Author Message
Alexander Aries Offline
Registered but either hasn't added self to a roster yet or doesn't RP



XWF FanBase:
Mixed reactions

(cheered heavily at home; hated by some; dips between clean/dirty)


#1
09-11-2015, 03:32 AM

A hulking figure of a man crosses under the street lamps in the middle of the night up in Washington, DC. The man is dressed in an XXL Trenchcoat with an XXL Armani suit, big and tall style, underneath it. Some may call him fat but we all know better. We all know that this man is built like a tank and his name? Robbie Bourbon.

Scene changes to a dark alley where we find a young man dressed in blue jeans and a black hoodie, the hood pulled up over his head. He watches the hulking giant from the shadows, completely silent. Concealed by shadow. This man is built like a sleek killing machine and is name is Alexander Aries. He is the epitome of the word "assassin".

Robbie walks along for a few moments before he stops, thinking he's heard footsteps in a puddle. He looks around for a moment. Noone there. Apparently his imagination is running away with him, right? The large man is startled by a voice coming from his right.


"Robbie Bourbon?"

He narrows his eyes, face covered by the mask he perpetually wears.

"Move along kid, I don't do autographs at-" -looks at his rolex-"-eleven o'clock at night."

Alexander smirks under his hood. Robbie can see him reaching into the pocket of his hooded sweatshirt. Of course, Robbie assumes he his getting out his pen and autograph pad. How wrong could he be?

"Look, I *said* no autographs. I'm tired, it's been a long d-WHAT THE HELL?!"

Pow! A gunshot rang out on the empty street as a bullet sped toward Robbie's stomach, however everything seems to be moving in slow motion, inching forward as time takes a drastic turn for the strange and bizarre. Robbie's eyes go wide in this slowed state, as the crook of Alexander's smirk twitches upward ever so higher. The bullet hits Bourbon in the stomach, which causes a ripple much like this.



Robbie grabs his stomach and stands upright after dropping to a knee as Alexander lets out a laugh. Bourbon is wide eyed.

"Shit, alright, alright, I'll sign your damn autograph, you don't gotta be a dick!"

Alexander removes his hood as Robbie's face settles. Robbie rolls his eyes and lets out a laugh, picks the bullet off of his stomach, and flicks it back at Aries, who catches it.

"Well, damn, that's a relief. Well if it isn't he crack shot, the man who needs only that window of opportunity to end someone, Alexander Aries, as I live and breath. Well, nice to meet you and all. Hey, you know what? This gives me a great idea! How about I just grab dudes in a bearhug and you just up and put a few rounds in them? I mean, no harm, no foul on my behalf, but hell, I reckon they'll just snap and crackle and buckle each sinew with a few slugs driving right through them into me while I put a squeeze on them. And that's just the small dudes. Shit, dude, I'm in on whatever plan you got to shoot Morbid Angel in the dick. Seriously, anything. How's about I inject him with a high dose of intravenous Viagra? I mean, yeah, his testosterone will blow through the roof, and even I'd be in serious danger of a rageboner toting neo-Nazi ex-Russian spec-ops giant, but hell, this is war, stud, and I say beating the living fuck out of a rageboner toting neo-Nazi ex-Russian spec-ops giant sounds fucking awesome, and the people deserve to see that shit, so I'm packing my dart gun to the fight if you've got your gun, broski. I've got tranquilizer darts, acid darts, ooh, do you think I could get me some biological weapons in time? I think I can! God damn it's great to be in the XWF, you know?"

Alexander is taken aback with the vigor that Robbie displays in thinking of regarding War Games, considering he was just shot in the belly.

"So, on a more somber note, you and I are the Allied Powers in this here war. Me, the big ole' American bullet sponge, half-a-mutt made of scratch and spare parts with more mouth than sense and more balls than reservations when the chips are down, you, the sophisticated British killing machine, honed and fine tuned to lethal precision, going up against something that was fucking eradicated, or at least fucking should have been, seventy fucking years ago. Morbid Angel, the fucking neo-Nazi scumbag that wants to pursue and instigate the hatred and disgusting cruelty of a new fucking fourth reich, stepping on the necks of good men, women, and children along the way, even having gone so far as to have taken his choice of an actual American city. This is an embarrassment to me. This fucker dicks around with people like they're cattle, simple fucking beasts to be led to and fro with lies, deciete, and fallacy, leaving truth to be sacrificed in the name of his own self-relevance and percieved dignity. Shit, I've been buried in shit that's better company than that rotten, gutless, spineless, isolationist worm, and it's high time something happened and the people got what they deserved, and Morbid Angel were destroyed. Well, decocked, but still, you are the man with the plan. I suggest leather gloves for the job, no idea where that guy's been."

Robbie points to Alexander.

"You call your shots, stud, and you call them loud and make them hit their mark: I'ma drop a bomb in that very ring. THE bomb. Robbiebombs falling here, Robbiebombs falling there, my Robbiebombs will blot out the sun, and if they think they can fight in the shade, then they're just standing in ground zero."

Alexander stared for a moment at the boisterous big man standing before him. First, he'd laughed off a shot from one of Aries' best guns, well, not laughed it off but it didn't faze the giant Robbie Bourbon. His face twisted into a wicked grin and he applauded.

Aries' Thoughts Said:Well, well, well. Al's intelligence was correct. Not only is this man a good "promo", but he's bullet proof? He'll make an excellent ally. Not to sure about Isles yet...he's a pothead...perhaps I shall meet him after Bourbon...oh god. He's looking at me like he wants to eat me.

"Well? You gonna say anything or you gonna stand there lookin' like Damien from the Omen on steroids?

Aries extended his right hand.

"Put er' there, mate."

"I don't know..."

Robbie was actually a bit hesitant. Why? Because he knew nothing of the personality of Aries. You couldn't blame the big man, after all. Aries knew he'd have to convince Bourbon to trust him. He knew what big men respected. They respected strength. So this is when he started his own monologue.

"Mister Bourbon, I assure you that I, Alexander Aries will cover your back as you drop your Robbiebombs all over Team Victory Not Ever! Yes, it was Victory Forever last year, but what we have now is an amazing group of amazing athletes...even that Abigail bird...but mostly you and I Robbie! I mean...look at you, sir. You are essentially a fucking tank and bullets just bounce off of ya like yer name was Superman!"He then pointed at himself. "And me? Well, I am the World's Greatest Assassin. I am the Walking Shadow of Death, big man. You and I? We could take down that team of rubbish by ourselves..."

Bourbon listened intently to the man from Canada, the sophisticated British Assassin. But he still wasn't quite convinced. Aries could see it in the giant's eyes.

"So you don't believe me? You don't believe that I am just as formidable as you are? Very well then. Allow me to prove it to you."

He handed his pistol to Robbie, who looked shocked. He stepped back ten paces as Robbie looked down at the pistol, a bit confused. I mean, he knew what Aries more than likely wanted but was skeptical. He still saw Aries as just a regular human. But little did he know, this genetically enhanced being had his own set of powers.

"Shoot me."

Robbie blinked.

"Are you insane, Alex?! You'll die!"

"Oh, just do it ya big lug! I won't die!"

Robbie sighed now and hesitantly raised the pistol. He'd aimed perfectly, pistol trained between the eyes. Of course the sights on said pistol were strange compared to any he'd ever seen before. It showed everything. Brain waves, oxygen level, breathing pattern, heart rate.

He pulled the trigger and there was no way he could have missed. Aries just stood there, or so he thought. The monitors all read zero, as if Aries wasn't there yet he was seemingly there, clear as day. Robbie, still staring at Alex, felt a tap on his shoulder.


"See? I'm special too, Robbie. Faster than the human eye. So fast I left that little after image. Plus I saw your finger the instant your muscles began to flex to squeeze it. My speed and senses aren't like normal humans, thanks to Project Phoenix!"

Robbie starts to chuckle.

"Helluva parlor trick, stud. You are definitely going places around here. It's a damned shame we aren't facing a firing line at War Games, else we'd be set. Shit, to think when I got here, Game Girl was the only metahuman running around the XWF, and she's not even human. Well, I've seen your work, and I know mine, so even if there isn't a literal firefight happening come Sunday, we're definitely going to be hard to take down, and that's just the two of us! Speaking of which, don't sweat Chris. He's got a full plate, he comes from a place we just don't; I mean, that scrappy little bastard went out and won the Intercontinental Title without the gifts either of us possess off of someone who has gifts neither of us could come close to having."

Robbie points to the bridge of his nose, which crooks slightly to the left.

"This right here kind of makes me happy he's on my side of things, he contributed to this with his bare damned hands, stud. I felt like King Hippo afterward. I put him through a glass table over it. We're cool now. Oddly enough, Isles is probably one of the few people I trust around here, besides Trax, and I'm skittish about that guy because I just know we'll be crossing each other's paths eventually, Dim, and only because I know his behavior is so sickeningly reliable that he won't deviate from it, and, well, I guess you too now. I mean, we're bullet dodgers, boyo, nice to know that when hellfire rains down on us I'll have someone else to stand with. Oh, shit, Dim. Man, as an American, I apologize. Dim really does a number of representing the worst of America; hate, laziness, cruelty, and ignorance. The dude is a complete poster child of everything that I wake up every day scheming and plotting of ways to eradicate. Allied powers we may be, but we're facing threats both foreign and domestic as far as I'm concerned. I just shuffle his dumb ass in as a modern day Martin James Monti. He might be signing up to fight for the Stars and Stripes, but this shithead's defected to the Nazis already and the shitty thing is he doesn't even know it."

Alexander looks puzzled at Robbie. Robbie rolls his eyes.

"Sorry. Martin James Monti defected to Germany near the end of World War 2. I know this fighting for the stars and stripes thing might not be your bag, because it really doesn't seem to be anybody's anymore. It's a damned shame to me, you know? The U.S. used to mean something, something good, something decent, something pure. It used to mean progress, and unity, and freedom. Nowadays, all it means to most people is diabetes, debt, and mass murders in public places. I'm telling you this as a fair warning, because I respect you, but I am on that crusade to make my country a better place, to make it respectable, to make it the America I grew up expecting, to make it the place all us Americans deserve. Tearing down Dim and Morbid Angel, and Bjorn, who keeps spreading the notion that there is no hope for America, in public, in front of the whole world to see, well, that won't make a huge difference over night. But if the right people see it, they'll be inspired, and they'll drive for change, and they'll inspire more, and if I can be the one to knock over that first domino and watch them all fall into place, watch America become great and relevant again, then I'll take it. On that note, just bear in mind that we're all going to be pushing the front at War Games, and I've been honed in Warfare, and that is why I wage war, but I am completely beholden to you and the rest of 7h3 H4rdc0r3 F0rc3."

Aries stands there for a moment before beginning a round of slow applause for Robbie, which soon turns into a round of loud applause. He even throws in a whistle. He is quite impressed with the first teammate he's met. He suddenly laughs. Robbie tilts his head.

"Did I say something that amuses you, assassin?"

Aries shakes his head and then shakes hands with Robbie.

"No, not at all! Just you're long winded like a politician, Bourbon. I'll say this though, you've got my vote if you decide to run. Now, since you and I are properly acquainted, why don't we go meet the captain? Seems like a good idea, right?"

"Good idea. We should go see Isles. Maybe grab something to eat along the way."

And so two members of Th3 H4rdc0r3 F0rc3 meet for the first time, two very different men who are more alike than either of them realize. What kind of misadventures will these two get into? Tune in next time, same straight edge time, same straight edge channel!

[Image: Vct9GC9.jpg]
Win-Loss: 5-0
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