Upcoming Match: Nathan Kennedy - vs - JACK - "That's It, I'm Done!" Match
What Happened Last Time?: I, uh... might have spilled the beans on some of the things I said in regards to my past at Joachim Bright's behest. When we stepped into the ring, however, the kid surprised me and actually got a win over on me. Good on him.
Current Goal?: As I'm slowly learning more and more about this crazy place, it's time we notch up a couple of wins. Plus, I gotta look somewhat credible for when I challenge for the tag titles with Azreal, am I right?
The Shit List: No one yet. Whoever is unlucky enough to end up on here better fuckin' pray, 'cause I'm not stopping until I bash their fuckin' heads in.
Date: 21 June 2018
Time: 2 AM BST
Location: The Last Drop - Edinburgh, Scotland, United Kingdom
Here we are. Same opening, different time though. Instead of Calum and I watching on the tele, Pete was enjoying a tall, large stout brew of his own as he took a deep drink, both him and Calum watching impatiently.
"Come on, Nate! Fuck 'im up already!" Pete shouted at the tele, clapping his hands in his drunken stupor to try and cheer me on.
(06-20-2018, 08:49 PM)Jefferson Jackson Said: Bright quickly gets back up to his feet and pulls Kennedy backup to a standing position as well, folding him over, Bright double underhooks the arms and goes to lift him up into the air. Kennedy is able to counter this by dropping to a knee and sandbagging him. Bright lets go of the double underhook and instead opts for a quick kick right into the gut of Kennedy in response, Bright again goes for the double underhook, but this time Kennedy drops Bright back first onto the ring with a double leg takedown! Kennedy leaps over the top of Bright holding onto his legs in a pinning position… the referee dives in as Kennedy tries to get in a fast one…
One!
Tw-KICKOUT!
"Ah, for fuck's sake..."Pete cursed under his breath, praying for me to get back into things. Calum sighed, his brow furrowed as he studied what was going on extensively. Pete turned to him, his own eyebrow raised. "You alright, kiddo?"
"Hm? Oh, yeah... yeah, I'm fine," Calum responded, brushing aside Pete with a wave of his hand. Pete, for what it was worth, responded with a small chuckle.
"Admit it: you underestimated the little squirt, didn't ya?"
(06-20-2018, 08:49 PM)Jefferson Jackson Said: Letting Kennedy work his way back up to his feet, a smirk forms on his face as Kennedy wobbles and walks forward in a daze, clearly having trouble getting his bearings under him. Giving him a few steps to get closer.
Joachim Bright smells the blood in the water!
Bright whips Kennedy into the turnbuckle where he hits hard and slinks into the corner. Bright rushes into the adjacent corner and perches himself up top, waiting for Kennedy to show signs of life.
Looks like Joachim is about to walk the Razor's Edge!
Kennedy tries to shake the cobwebs as he pulls himself out of the corner, unaware of Bright’s position in the ring. Bright quickly walks the top rope as the crowd oohs and awes. Kennedy, noticing the fans reaction, looks up just in time to see Bright propel himself into a Dragonrana pin!
Calum sighed, downing his glass of beer and bowing his head low enough to the point where it was nearly touching the mahogany counter. "I guess so..." he muttered.
(06-20-2018, 08:49 PM)Jefferson Jackson Said: One!
Two!
THREE!
Incredible!
Joachim Bright is quite remarkable, as he has shown tonight with his victory over Nathan Kennedy!
Here is your winner...............Joachim Brighttttt!
Winner: Joachim Bright!
"Well... that's that, I suppose."Pete leaned back in his seat, scratching his chin as Joachim Bright celebrated, rolling out of the ring and heading up the ramp to backstage. "Ah well. You win some and you lose some in this wacky game called life, and your brother needed to learn that sooner rather than later."
"Yeah..." Calum was quiet, intensely studying his own reflections in his beer glass. A long, awkward silence hung between the two, as meanwhile on the tele, Eddy was helping me roll out of the ring and helping me get up the ramp to backstage after that damned Dragonrana had me out of it for a long while. "...I think I'm gonna go out and get some fresh air finally," Calum said finally, getting out of his seat with a grunt. "I think all the alcohol is gettin' to me."
"Fair enough," Pete yawned as he stretched his back out into the seat. "Take your time. I might need a smoke myself after that match."
Calum silently nodded, shuffling his feet across the polished wooden floor as he hesitantly opened the door. A gust of warm nighttime air cut through inside the air conditioned bar as Calum shut the door behind him. His vision getting slightly woozy, he leaned on a nearby wall for support. An endless void of infinite shadows cut through this ghost town, with nary a soul to be seen walking down Edinburgh at this time of night. Calum sighed, again, taking his phone out of his pocket as he played with the screen button. No doubt, he was hesitating on whether or not he should call me and check up on me.
Right, so I figure I should explain this scenario before people chastise me for making Calum worry, or alternatively - and more likely - call my brother a little worry wart. Calum may have heard of my exploits in fights, but I always made sure he never saw me in one. Even after I left my parents, I always made sure that he could cling to whatever shreds of innocence he might have. Even with most of it in tatters, he's never seen me like this. Getting dropped on my ass unexpectedly, I suppose. I feel for him, but there was nothing I could do for him at that moment.
A sharp exhale could be heard from his nostrils as he eventually turned the screen off again, deciding I had better things to worry about, no doubt. "Nate..." Calum said to himself, looking up at the night sky. "I hope you're alright."
Don't worry, little brother. You may not be able to hear me saying this, at least for now (who knows if/when these ramblings are getting put over a promo for the XWF site), but after this little setback, I promise I won't make you worry like that again.
Date: 26 June 2018
Time: 3 AM EST
Location: Richmond International Airport - Richmond, Virginia, United States of America
Ba-thump.
Ba-thump.
Ba-thump.
Annoying little sound, isn't it? That's what I had to deal with, echoing in my ears as the wheels of my suitcase rolled around on the airport floor as Eddy and I neared an escalator. I rubbed my tired eyes - I was unable to get any sleep, as Eddy the mad lad decided it would be absolutely wonderful if he could keep me up all ride long as we watched old footage from back in the day on my next XWF opponent, a man making his return to the company - JACK, I think his name was.
We stepped on, a silence between the two of us as we were both tired. We were just eager to get to a nearby hotel, check in with reservations for the night, and crash until Warfare was over and it was onto the next joint. I tapped my foot on the step, a small attempt to keep myself from passing out and keeping myself busy. "You owe me for forcin' me to sit through that crap," I muttered at Eddy as we were nearing the top. "I can't even begin to tell you how borin' that was."
As we reached the top, we continued to walk as briskly as our tired husks could. We were just another step to calling this marathon of a day to a finish. Eddy shot me a small glance as he spoke back at me. "Me? Owe you?" he asked in disbelief. "Please, after the show you put on last week, you need all the help you can get. Daddy's Boy may have gotten one on you, but this time, you'll be pinning that JACK guy to the floor as you beat him in this... wacky fucking match management has planned for you."
"Well..." I admitted as I stretched my neck out, "You're right in that it is a wacky fuckin' match, but I think you're overthinkin' things a bit. I mean... how many wins did we see that guy get? Maybe three? Five at the most? All littered in between... dozens of matches... I'm not one for underestimatin' guys, but Eddy, I think you're overestimatin' what this guy is capable of, and-"
"Excuse me? Mister Kennedy! Please wait up!"
A new voice hushed mine and Eddy's conversation as we stopped in our tracks. We grimaced together, as we weren't in the mood to deal with any bullshit at this hour. Slowly, we turned around... to see a middle-aged, balding, scrawny man huffing and puffing by the escalator as it's clear he had to run up the steps to keep pace with me and Eddy.
"Uhhh... Eddy, who's that bloke?" I whispered, pointing at the man as he slowly managed to hustle his way towards us, breaking out into a tired jog as pools of sweat became noticeable through his clothing.
"I... think that's..." Just as Eddy was about to whisper me back his thoughts, we were cut off by another voice. One we didn't expect.
"Oh, hey Steve!" the camera man - yes, the camera man you might have seen a couple times by now as he was lugging his expensive piece of technology as he filmed me. Both me and Eddy jolted our necks towards him, the both of us equally shocked.
"Holy hell!" I exclaimed, jaw slightly agape. "You can talk?! And... you know this bloke?"
"Oh, yeah. That's Steve Sayors. We first met when I was getting into this job, he's a really swell guy. As for me not talking before, well... it's kinda in the contract that I'm not supposed to ta-" the camera man paused, gasping mid-sentence as he knew he just fucked up. "...Crap. Well, here's hoping they don't dock my pay..." Though it was hard to see, considering he was behind the camera, he hung his head to the ground, clearly in shame. Eddy facepalmed, disgusted at the camera man's behavior as the man named Steve Sayors finally finished jogging up to us.
"Oh, hey Jack. Anyway, hello Mister Kennedy, I'm Steven Sayors from the XWF. I'm kind of an interviewer... some might say broadcaster... I'm also kind of a journalist for the XWF official site... it's a complicated role. Anyway, I was wondering if I could ask you a couple questions regarding your match with JACK on this upcoming Warfare?" Sayors flashed an excited, exuberant smile- surely a smile I wouldn't be able to muster given the circumstances.
I rubbed my tired eyes again, weighing my options. I really didn't want to waste time with this, but at the same time, I didn't want to be a fuckin' douche to Sayors either... I looked up, and over to Eddy, who seemed to echo what I was thinking as he stared straight into my eyes. He was practically shouting at me, Let me take the fucking mic for once!... without actually talking, of course.
I sighed loudly. I suppose I didn't have a real option here. I shrugged, turning towards the exit. "Don't say anything that'll get me in trouble." With that, I started walking as Eddy chuckled to himself, no doubt disregarding my warning.
"Uhm..." Sayors stammered, clearly not expecting me to just up and leave him as he adjusted his shirt collar. "W-well... Edward Osborne, is that right? Can I get your thoughts on-"
Eddy quickly silenced Sayors with a raise of his hand, taking the lead. "With all due respect, Mister Sayors, I got this. Let me be among the first to congratulate Joachim Bright for a stunning, well-fought victory on Warfare. Indeed, you were able to show you're more than just a stupid youngster in today's climate with daddy issues. I know you and my client built a bit of a rapport together, but in all fairness... I don't know if he really needs you anymore. Granted, I may not be the man himself, so I'll let him speak fully on his thoughts regarding last Warfare. But I think I can speak for the lion's share of the fans when I can say that was a fluke. A stroke of luck, beginner's luck at that. Who knows if Joachim Bright will be as lucky next time? I'm willing to bet that'll be a no-go. But my client's stock will continue to rise, and he'll be raking me in more and more money. That's what matters at the end of the day, Mister Sayors- money. It's what makes the world go round, after all."
"Uhm... that may be the case, Mister Osborne, but I also had questions regarding-"
Again, Eddy cut off Sayors. "Let me guess: you're going to ask about JACK. I'll tell you something right now, and you can echo this around the world for all I care: JACK is a joke. He, she, they, whatever. They're fighting for a lost cause. There's no redeeming this wasteland. There's no redeeming a place where felons are accepted with open arms, where aliens can thrive, hell, a place where sixteen-bit video game characters can win titles. His silence up to this match speaks volumes regarding to how this is going to go. You know what I think, Sayors? I think JACK is scared. He knows that when he steps into the ring with the Scottish Spitfire, he's entering himself for a world of hurt, and a world of hurt he will get when my client will get the one-two-three. He's faced far worse than the likes of JACK, and he will continue to face far worse than the likes of JACK. Daddy's Boy may have been a small bump in the road, but trust me when I say he'll be successful here, and go on to successfully team with Azreal Erebus on the next episode of Warfare. Now, I should go- time is money, after all."
Without even giving Sayors a chance to talk, Eddy faced towards the exit and briskly walked to catch up with me as Sayors looked flabbergasted. "But... what about my questions?"
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