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X-treme Wrestling Federation » Shove-It! Boards » Shove-It! RP Board
King of the Mountain
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JimCaedus Offline
Trash Talker Skywalker



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(loved by some; hated by some; dips between clean/dirty)


#1
11-23-2017, 11:53 PM

======€@£|)Ų$======


Caedus Rewind: Since coming into physical contact with his doppelganger leading up to King of the Ring, Jim has been psychically coerced to collect mysterious items (the relevance of which he remains ignorant) around the world as XWF tours with it's live Warfare and pay per view events. Thus far he's secured 5 items. Following the Warfare card in Beijing...















"King of the Mountain"



Illuminated via the aircraft's searchlight, I eye the historically and now legally intraversable Himalayan summit above me from the safety of the AC313 chopper I'd chartered (for a hefty sum, given the job) as it descends towards a snow-covered rocky outcropping and I shiver.

The helicopter echoes my dread as the aircraft rumbles, straining to maintain operational status at this staggering elevation of somewhere around twenty-two thousand feet.


--KHAWA KARPO•YUNNAN PROVINCE•CHINA--

--POST WARFARE•NIGHT--


Gotta be freezing out there. It's cold as fuck in _here_.

The pilot hovers, yells something in either Mandarin or Cantonese to my translator who turns to me and nods. I gulp and recheck my jump pack......

Everything seems to be in order. I peer out the window again. The outcropping looks to be around 100 feet down, give or take. I've done my research, I dont think anyone's ever attempted a jump this dangerously meager and certainly not at night.

Well, shit......this is either gonna be an unofficial record setting least distance between points A and B BASE jump or the last few moments of my life. Better get to it.

As my translator slides open the side egress hatch the freezing wind buffets my face, forcing my eyes to tear up before I can slide my goggles into position.

Thank Christ I dressed in layers.

"Courage brother, handle your shit. I'll make sure these guys keep the chopper waiting for your return."

I nod to my Apex teammate, brother and good friend Robert Main (what, you thought I'd do this without backup after Tala left me hanging in Carcross?), we fistbump and I turn to the open hatch.

I take a deep breath.........



and I jump.



All I can see for that first second is the illuminated jutting lip of flat mountainside zooming up to greet me in the frozen night, all I can hear is the roar in my ears, all I can feel is the thin air pounding at me.

I pull the cord.

I'm ripped violently upward as the BASE jump chute deploys and unfurls a fraction of a second later, my velocity. My approach toward the target zone is still frighteningly swift, however, and I find myself bracing for impact two seconds later-


-landing hard on my feet in the shallow snow, so hard in fact I can't believe my ankles didn't explode beneath my weight. I roll with the impact and release my pack as the high altitude wind tugs it and me along with it towards the edge of the outcropping and death beyond. The chute and pack disappear into the darkness. I glance up and wave to the chopper then turn to the short though undoubtedly punishing climb to the peak that lies before me.

I adjust the platinum chain around my neck that lugs my Carcross, Yukon-collected gold nugget I'd had professionally attached before Leap of Faith (and actually worn during the contest, currently hung beneath my layers of clothing) then pull a bit of thick fabric up to cover my nose and mouth as protection against the inhalation of low temperature air.

I then check the single barrel sawn-off pump action shotgun Josh Reno gave me months ago that I'd thought to bring along in lieu of my last violent item collection, removing it from the thigh holster and disarming the safety. From my accompanying 56 shell shoulder bandolier, I load 7 shots and pump once for fire-ready status before returning the weapon to it's holster.

I look to the chopper and wave then set about the task at hand.


FLAG AT THE PEAK


-appears before my mind's eye. Required footwear crunching the snow beneath me, I begin my 45° grade ascent to the summit where apparently the sixth item I'm currently being compelled to collect resides.

After what feels like an hour (though more likely to have been around twenty to thirty minutes) of a stubborn, driving, uphill trek, the spotlight from the AC313 showing me the way, my eyes spy the target flapping in the frigid winds. All that stands between me and destiny is a final, easily traversible expanse of about 50 feet, the snow dipping gently in the center, saucer-like, to the point and flag. I trudge on.

My boots sink a bit further than I'm comfortable with as I approach the snow saucer's center. Obviously the mountain dips inward here...hopefully not too much deepe-


My vision becomes a sudden rush of white followed by black. A feeling of weightlessness.


My feet hit solid rock below, I fall to my ass, as dropping snow piles around me.

What the FUCK!?

I look up...

Judging from the chopper spotlight scanning what looks to be a now open crevasse leading up to the flag's posting point (the item and it's pole now hanging horizontally at that end of the crevasse, at any moment about to tumble free) I've fallen into what I'm assuming is a cave-

I halt with the musing as my eyes begin to adjust to the dark and survey my surroundings...

I'm in some kind of...chamber. Geologically a cave, yes, but from the center positioned stone statue I'm assuming is some deity, the stone carvings and symbols beginning to appear before my eyes, this place is, or at one time was, inhabited. Strike "was"...my eyes are adjusting so quickly because this cavern is being lit by torchlight.

The fuck am I into now?

"你不應該在這裡這是被禁止的."

Though soft in volume, I jump at the sudden voice echoing towards me.

"這是卡瓦格博神廟, 你無權在這裡."

I spy the source...a middle aged adult male of indigenous descent, clad in brown robes, his head clean shaven. He speaks to me from across the chamber, eyes closed in what I'm assuming from 37 years of exposure to cartoons, TV series and movies to be cross-legged meditation. It's then I think to pull my phone free and activate the translator app.

I punch in "Please repeat that" and choose "traditional Chinese", hold my phone out and press the speaker icon.

The phone doesn't vocalize.

Sunuvabitch...

I look to the device to see I'm getting no service in here.

Of course, dumbass.

My musing is cut short when I look back up from the lit screen, returning my phone to my pocket, to see the monk has vanished. I take a moment to blink and rub at my eyes, hoping the fault lies with the transition from bright to dark. Moments later, I see the monk has indeed disappeared.

My inner thoughts reference the most repeated line in the Star Wars universe:

I have a very bad feeling about thi-

"原諒我!"




(mood music)

Whatever the monk shouts, it's punctuated an instant later by an impact that leaves me seeing stars over the embrace of unconscious black reaching out to lull me to sleep.

I stumble back, holding firm to lucidity as the monk lands following his flanking ambush jump kick or punch (I'm unsure which) only to whirl at me and execute a perfect butterfly kick in mid-air with a "WA-TAH!" that connects to my crown.

I crumble and catch myself on one knee, looking up to my attacker once I shake more stars from my vision.

"PLEASE STOP!!"

Before I can finish my plea, he's already spinning with another kick-

-my laughable (in comparison to his own) martial arts training kicks in, along with a frantically strong sense of desperation, and I manage to throw my forearms up in defense, leaning into the hit and giving up my balance in the process.

The force behind the kick keeps me from falling forward and in fact bounces me back to a balanced position! I shoot up, a momentary flash of surprise in the monk's eyes.

He snaps a right kick at me, I step back to avoid it.

He continues swiftly, fluidly flowing through his whiff by jumping off his left foot into a mid-air spinning roundhouse kick.

I raise my arms again and take the hit, stumbling to my right and nearly falling to the floor of the cavern.

He dashes in with unbelievable speed and pulls off a forward somersault to close the distance while dropping his right heel on the revolution across my left shoulder.

I manage to sidestep JUST in time as he lands beside me but I'm too slow to dodge or block as he transitions into a close left backfist strike to my forehead as I turn, followed by a right upward-cannon punch to my jaw.

My head snaps back and I topple backwards, landing with an "OOF!", the pain in my jaw excruciating.

My sight destabilizes, the ceiling of the cavern undulating before my eyes like heat waves, the sounds of shuffling feet and my own heavy breathing picking up in my ears as if their sources are far away.

An odd dark shape descends upon my face and I thankfully have the reactionary instinct to thrust my palms up, crossed together, to block whatever it is.

I feel the shape of the monk's foot stomp onto my palms, forcing them down onto my face.

My fingers ensnare his foot as he raises it, my vision beginning to clear. He pulls back hard but I don't let go. He puts his weight forward into another stomp, trying to break my hold. My knuckles grind into my pecs. I twist to the right with all the might I can muster from my position, looking to snap his ankle or force him over-

-the monk simply follows with the movement, breaking free with a cartwheel then twisting and springing BACK at me with another forward somersault, this time landing in a double stomp at my head.

I roll to the side, he drops to his, lands balanced on his outstretched left palm and pivots into a sweeping kick I manage to block by once more throwing my palms up together. The impact probably should've broken my hands, I'm shocked it didn't. I'm shocked I'm still alive in fact.

The monk is too. Showing the slightest bit of frustration, he follows up with another stomp I roll away from.

And another.

And another.

I take the opportunity on his third to sweep at his feet with my left leg but he deftly back somersaults to safety.

MotherFUCKER!

As quickly as I can, I start to rise only to have the monk dash at me once more before I can fully do so.

I nearly fall backward in leaning back away from a sliding right side thrust kick at my face. He drops his right and instantly uses it to combo and pivot into a left front roundhouse snap kick which I slap at in defense. He combos further with a right hook kick and I slap at THAT as well as I step back.

He crouches slightly and advances off the deflect with a swift succession of: stiff left Crane Beak Strike to my solar plexus, a snapping right backhand slap to my face, a left horn punch to my right armpit as my hands instinctively rise to my nose off the slap afterwhich he steps in, grabs my left arm, pulls and uses his shoulder to flip me-

-but I ground my weight against his considerable strength, pulling with my arm AGAINST his yank and bending the monk over backward as I roar angrily.

He looks up at me with eyes wide in shock.

I wink.

He scowls.

He pushes off the cavern floor with his feet to execute another one of his fucking back somersaults.

I match his movement and with a power I never knew I possessed, I spin and LAUNCH the monk WITH his flip, flinging him across the cavern!

He rockets into the statue of the deity with such force he crashes THROUGH it and hits the floor, the falling rock sounding throughout the chamber like a landslide as it crumbles atop him, leaving only his top half visible.

I stalk over, quite unsure if the monk is truly done or is awaiting a moment to burst forth from the pile of debris.

He coughs, blood launching up to splatter back down onto his chest.

I guess he's done.

I pull my shotgun from the holster and level it at the monk's head. No need to leave him here suffering...







I jump as the primal roar is unleashed from elsewhere in the cavern reverberating painfully with the acoustics.

"What the FUCK," I blurt!?

The monk laughs, or, does his best to with the weight of the smashed statue crushing his lower body.

"他們來懲罰闖入者. 你應該跑步."

The otherworldly roar rips through the cavern again, drawing my wide and fearful eyes to a yawning opening set in the wall beyond the dying monk.

Jesus fucking Christ what the hell IS that...


To Be Continued

□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□




--THANKSGIVING EVENING--

--JIM'S SUITE IN BEIJING--


::FADE IN::


I bitterly pick at the best rendition of a turkey dinner (this ain't turkey, it can't be) the chefs at the Waldorf Astoria in Beijing could pull off, thankful this is at least a better Thanksgiving than previous years' like last November's penniless solo microwave dinner months following the deaths of my wife and daughter or like in 2014 in the wake of the death of my first official growing op or like in 2011 soon after my mother's death or Thanksgiving '09 only WEEKS after my father's death.

Yep, choking down this mystery Asian avian and whatever local veggies they'd prepared (which aren't bad at all, tbh), all alone in a foreign country with over a year's separation from the last tragic loss marking all my loved ones rotting in the ground but now having a swoll' bank account, a home, a business, a wildly successful ongoing career in the XWF and an opportunity to attain whatever reward the legendary one half of the Tag Team Champions Doc D'Ville has in mind for the victor at Shove-It: Where the Sun Don't Shine is definitely better than the previous holiday's events.

Main had prior arrangements for Thanksgiving, ensuring I'd spend this day alone. Not that I blame him of course, I'm happy for my brother, whatever it is he's up to. That small happiness doesn't lessen the anger boiling up within me however...because no matter how I slice it, this fucking sucks and I'm willing to bet most of my _opponents_ for Shove-It are actually enjoying their holiday...hence my bitterness as I stab at my entreé with a surprisingly provided fork.

Floyd isn't here either, he TOO had better things to do for Thanksgiving.

The anger turns to rage.

Childishly I cast aside the table set for me by the hotel wait staff, spilling my dinner across the floor. I pull my phone from my pocket and prepare for promo..................

"Where the _fuck_ IS everyone!? We've only two days to go to Doc's Shove-It and ain't no one but that limey scumbag Scully, The Cuckster, Imperial's pathetic ass and a NEW GUY have hyped the goddamn match! Understandably, there _are_ some of us who had bookings leading up to this moment now, like, ME for example...but the rest of you who've been free, what gives? Lemme guess...family, right?"

I scoff venomously.

"Cocksuckers...enjoy it while it lasts. And while you're all kickin' back with your belts unbuckled, bellies swelling from bird, stuffing, taters and pie, family members gathered around the flatscreen enthralled with whatever dipshit programming you have on to distract from the fact you have business to attend to...I've been upping my game with a little, well, _highly_ unorthodox training and fostering a ravenous desire to drop as many men needed over the top rope onto their skulls to secure whatever reward it is the good doctor has to offer the last man standing.

I'm no stranger to a rumble; in fact, over the course of my 21 years in this industry I've competed in somewhere around 30 such contests...and while it may have taken me 21 years to reach the summit o' success, in this, the pinnacle promotion, I've an excellent record for consistently emerging victorious in this type of scenario. Hell, in the XWF _alone_ I hold a staggering tally for victory in matches featuring three or more opponents. Now, that isn't to say I'm predicting a win again...on the contrary, out of the 21 men signed up to compete, there are several names that swing intimidation as well as the existence of one single fact: anything can happen in the XWF and that can see anyone snatch victory from the jaws of humiliation in this bout.

Robbie Bourbon, weilding his two tons of man titties and another two in ass cheeks, I'm sure is a favorite, despite the fact I've pasted that tub o' lard and sprinkles TWICE. Finn Kühn, no matter what his detractors say, is a definite talent capable of pulling off the win, same goes for Oz. Cuck Chaos I'm sure is looking for a win to revitalize his career as is the man I launched from the rafters at LoF with a Wrexus Plexus, the ever what-the-fuck-is-improvement? Scully. As much as I hate to admit it considering he's so irredeemably something-borrowed, something-stolen with his "style", even Danny Imperial is one to watch...as is BWP who tends to surprise when he switches outta nowhere from the "meh, fuck it, why try, why stick around?" depressive to "now I'm gung-ho and ready to go" manic mindset. I've serious doubts if any of the other names can muster the energy to pull it off...with the exception of the mystery noob Lacertus-"


::KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK::

Who...

"To be continued, dickheads."

I end record.

::STATIC::

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~XWF ALL TIME TOP 50 - #6!!!! <3
~Efed Podcast Top 100 - #74 w/no Twitter (all credit to you, fam, 🙏 <3)
~XWF UNIVERSAL CHAMPION - 2x
~XWF XTREME CHAMPION - 2x
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~XWF 24/7 Briefcase - 3x
~XWF Trio Tag Champion w/Ax3 - 1x
~XWF Television Champion - 1x (undefeated)
~XWF Federweight Champion - 2x
~XWF Triple Title Holder - 1x (TV, Federweight & 24/7 case)
~XWF Double Title Holder - 5x (TV/Fedr, Uni/Trio, Tag/24/7, X/24/7 & Uni/Tag)
~XWF 2017 Lethal Lottery IV Tournament winner!!
~XWF 2017 Leap of Faith Rafter Match winner!!
~XWF 2017 2nd Annual Doc D'Ville Shove-It Rumble Co-Winner w/Chaos!!
~XWF 2017 War Games Co-Winner with Rob Main & Drew Archyle as APEX!!
~XWF Feb. 2017 J. Federweight Scramble Winner!!
~XWF January 2017 RP of the Month!! - "Like a Moth to the Flame"
~XWF February 2017 Star of the Month!!
~XWF March 2017 3-Way Star of the Month!!
~XWF September 2017 RP of the Month!! - "Lions & Tigers & Caedus, Oh Shit"
~XWF July 2021 QOTM!! - line from "Took It All"
~XWF October 2021 RP of the Month!! - "This Just In" audio
~XWF November 2021 Star of the Month!! (3rd time!!!!!!)
~XWF Match of the Year 2021 w/Bourbsy!! - X-Treme, Flynn's Audio Shove-It


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