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X-treme Wrestling Federation »   » Archives » High Stakes Battle Royale RP Board
The Ares Project: Doris Jenkins
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Thaddeus Duke Offline
Lionhearted
Management Lv. 2


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(cheered; very rarely plays dirty but isn't lame either; many likable qualities)


#1
11-14-2020, 10:01 PM


On Board Illuminatus Two || Killeen, Texas


The plane jostles me in my seat as the rubber meets the asphalt runway with a screech. The flight was a long one. Jumping the pond always is. Normally, like any person on the fucking planet, I’d get some sleep but… I didn’t feel much like sleeping. My thoughts are haunted by the face of Harold Jenkins. My memories plagued by my actions. When I close my eyes, I see the hole I put in his head and his life blood leaking from the wound. When it’s all quiet, I hear his well spoken southern drawl. When I look into a mirror, its not me that I see staring back at me, but Harold Jenkins and his lifeless eyes.

”We’re here mate,” Jim says as he nudges my shoulder. I guess I dozed off for a few minutes on the plane on our way down the runway after all.

”Am I doing the right thing?” I ask of him after a yawn.

”As Thaddeus Duke the Illuminatus leader, no certainly not,” he answers honestly. ”As Thaddeus the man… my best friend… the person. It’s exactly what I’d expect you to do.”

”How...” I pause, clearing my throat. ”How do you think she’ll receive me?”

”Well… you put a bullet in her sons brain, how do you think she’ll receive you?”

I sigh deeply. ”I think I liked you better when you were in the background,” I joke with a light sigh.

”Ouch! That stings!”

Gathering myself quickly, Jim follows me toward the back of the plane, its large cargo door already opened and my Illuminatus Honor Guard already standing beside the casket of Harold Jenkins.

”Where’s the flag?” I ask as I turn to Jim.

”What flag?” he asks in response, a bit puzzled. ”He’s American, yes, but he’s not American military.”

”See to it that a flag drapes his casket,” I instruct him as I proceed down the cargo ramp to the awaiting car. ”Stand down gentlemen,” I say as I pass by the Honor Guard. Harold Jenkins doesn’t leave this plane until his mother is here.

On the car ride over to Doris Jenkins’ home, I dozed off again and once more, Jim nudges me. Part of me wants to kill him for that.

”How long has it been since you slept more than ten minutes?” he asks as I look out the window at Doris’s little house. Old Glory flapping in the breeze.

”I don’t know, what day is it?”

”Thursday.”

”Sunday. Sunday I slept three hours before you woke me up to tell me the base was under attack,” I inform him as I step out of the car and onto the sidewalk.

Starting up the walk toward the porch of this little ranch style house, I hesitate about midway as I seek my courage. Courage is a tricky thing. It’s one thing to be brave and courageous on a battlefield, its either them or you. Kill or be killed. It’s another thing all together, summoning the courage to face someone in circumstances such as this.

Behind me, Jim places his right hand on my trap muscle and gives a light squeeze before patting me on the shoulder. Once on the porch, I hesitate again before knocking, but only for a second. The door opens after several seconds.

”Can I help you?” the woman asks politely in a very thick southern accent, her eyes red and puffy. Looking passed me towards the street at my head of state armored limousine, she clearly sees the little flags on the fenders. If she wasn’t sure who I was before, she knows now.

”Mrs. Jenkins?” I say, again clearing my throat.

Her demeanor turns to steel.

”Yes.”

”Ma’am, my name is...”

”I know who you are,” she interrupts curtly. ”It didn’t register at first, but as soon as I saw that car I knew. Your face is all over my television.

“A constant reminder of why my son is with the lord.”


”Actually ma’am, that’s exactly why I’m here.”

She looks me up and down for several seconds. Jim pats me on the back and retreats toward the car.

”Where are my manners? Do come in son,” she offers as she steps aside. I nod and force a smile. ”Have a seat in that chair if you like,” Doris says as she closes the front door behind us. ”Would you like some iced tea?”

”Uhhh… no. Thank you though, Mrs. Jenkins,” I answer her as I sit on the chair she offered up.

”Mr. Duke, please just call me Doris.”

”Yes ma’am, and just call me Thad,” I reply with a less than forced smile. Charming woman with her southern hospitality. ”Doris, if you don’t mind, I think will take that iced tea.”

”Of course,” she replies as she disappears around the corner and into her kitchen.

As I wait for her to return, I nervously gather my thoughts and look around the small living room. The walls are decorated with dozens of pictures of Harold at varying ages. I’m drawn to what I assume was his senior picture. His pose was similar to my own. Harold even wore a similar sweater.

”Senior year,” Doris says from behind me as she hands me the tall glass of iced tea. We look at his picture together. ”He wanted to join the Air Force and become a fighter pilot, but his eyes were too bad.

“He joined the Army right outta school, but they discharged him after failing a conditioning test. It broke his heart. He fell in with some other Army rejects and they turned him on to the Ares Project.

“I tried tellin’ him the Ares Project wasn’t no good. Just some fringe alt-right group ya know?”


”Fighter pilot huh?”

”Oh honey, he was a big fan of Top Gun. Wanted to be just like Maverick.”

”That’s my field,” I say with a smile before taking a sip of the iced tea and OH MY FUCKING GOD. That’s the most delicious god damn drink I’ve ever tasted. ”Doris, this is delicious.”

”You Yankees don’t got real iced tea up north,” she says with a nod as we take our seats.

”No,” I agree with her after taking a swallow. ”Nothing like this.” Reaching into my jacket, I retrieve Harold’s journal.

”You flew all the way to the heart of Texas to give me a notebook?” she asks as she twirls the crucifix hanging from her neck.

”Harold’s journal, ma’am. I thought he might want you to have it.”

”Do you know who done it?” she asks, her voice beginning to waver.

I nod in response.

”Was it painless, do you know?”

”It was for him, ma’am.”

She sighs and wipes a tear as she takes the journal from me.

”They was sayin’ on the news that you were burying the dead. That true?”

”Yes ma’am,” I answer her. ”We might be enemies on the field, but they’re still soldiers. They’re still afforded respect and dignity. At least on my end.”

”Were they all buried?”

I nod my head again. ”All but one.”

”Why the one?”

”Ma’am… I brought Harold home to his mother,” I reply as tears well up in my eyes.

She sobs quietly for a few moments.

”But why just him?”

With a single, simple question, my courage flew right out the damn window.

”It was you,” Doris answers on her own with simple deduction. ”Your guilt brought you here to his home, to face his mother, to bring him home to me,” she says through sobs.

I nod slowly. ”Yes ma’am.”

”Well what is it you’re after then? You tryin’ to get right with the Lord?”

”No ma’am. I just wanted to express my regret and let you know how sorry I am for pulling that trigger.”

”You’re no different than that McGovern clown,” she says with subdued anger.

”You’re wrong on that one ma’am. No matter how many lives are lost, McGovern doesn’t lose a moments sleep over it.

“I lose plenty of sleep.”


”Why Mr. Duke? Why keep up the fight then?”

”Because its them or us. I do it because I have to,” I answer her as honestly as I can. ”I’d be much happier not seeing anymore death or pain, Mrs. Jenkins. Fact is, the Ares Project chose me and made me a target.

“I’m just trying to survive, ma’am.”


”If you’re seekin’ my forgiveness...”

Quickly I shake my head.

”Then what?”

”I just needed you to know how much I regret doing what I did. You don’t know about, nor should you care about my lost sleep over the decisions I have made and the actions I have taken.

“I needed you to know that despite how things might look, that there are stark contrasts to General McGovern and myself. Boys like yours, they’re just meat for his army. One falls, another takes his place. Then another, and so on.

“Ma’am, I don’t expect you to offer me your forgiveness and I surely don’t deserve it.

“But I’m not like McGovern. I agonize over the deaths of my people… and his.”


She sobs into one of those little lace things that old people put on the arms of their chairs. I pull her to me. Doris resists at first, but succumbs to the desire for comfort.

”Did he have any last words?” she asks through sobs on my chest. ”Was he defiant? Respectful? Please tell me.”

”He was respectful,” I answer her honestly, entirely glazing over the ‘his final words’ part of her inquiry. I’d love to tell her that he said to tell his mom that he loved her but the fact is, I don’t think Harold truly expected to die then. He spent his final words trying to reason with me.

”Son, I think its best you leave now,” Doris says as she peels herself away from my chest and hastily makes her way to the door.

As I reach the doorway, I remove Harold’s dogtags from around my neck and offer them to her.

”Your prize for killin’ my boy?”

”They’re yours if you want them. And no, I don’t wear them as a prize. I wear them as a reminder of the cost of war, ma’am.”

”Keep ‘em.

“Maybe you’ll think twice about killin’ another womans baby boy.

“I will pray for you, Mr. Duke. I’ll pray for your safety, the safety of your loved ones and your people. Most of all, I’ll pray for the swift end of this ugly conflict.”


”Thank you ma’am,” I say as I replace Harold’s tags around my neck. ”Your son is waiting for you at the airport, Mrs. Jenkins. I wouldn’t let my men take him from the plane until you were present.”

”I’ll be along.”



I watch from my position leaning against the side of my limo as Doris slows her car to a stop about a hundred feet from the plane. The back door of the hearse is already open and I notice Doris hesitant to exit her car. Once she does, she approaches the end of the cargo ramp and my Honor Guard lifts Harold’s flag draped casket and slowly, in lockstep, make their way down the ramp to the tarmac. They pause momentarily, giving Doris Jenkins a few moments to grieve for her son at the head of his casket. Suddenly I have an urge to run and comfort her and even begin to do so, but Jim grabs my shoulder and shakes his head. Moments later, Private First Class Harold Jenkins is loaded into the hearse for his last ride with his grieving mother by his side.





Let me make one thing abundantly clear: in the bromance of Corey and Thad while people start to question which one is Bert and which one is Ernie… I am definitely the Bert of that relationship. No matter how gay I might be, nothing is going in my ass. Not now. Not ever. No matter how much I love him, not even Corey is going in my ass.

Also, I am clearly the big spoon.

In a not at all unrelated note I watched Alias’s latest promo and I actually had to watch it back a few times because it seems to me that his whole divide and conquer strategy, which was never going to work anyway, has gone away in favor of this “ok let’s try and make Thad jealous” strategy.

Again, that’s not gonna work either.

I mean, if you’re attracted to Corey Smith, I don’t blame you. He’s cute. He’s funny. Definitely got the twunk thing goin’ on so we’re all in agreement there. Fact is though, Corey is straight. Or at least that’s what he keeps telling himself. And I’ll never tell anyone that he got hard when he pinned me down in that tent.

I might be lying though. Only we know for sure. Anyhow, Corey is free to date and fuck whomever he wants. So Alias, go for it man. Shoot your shot.

Bro you accused me of cherry picking facts but denying reality. Maybe you didn’t catch Warfare, and… if you don’t know its the flagship show around here. It might have actually been a thing still way back when you were still irrelevant but here more regularly. Doesn’t matter, point is… even the Warfare General Manager agrees that I should be the real number one contender.

That’s reality.

So sorry you missed it.

About Corey not wrestling regularly? Dude had a stroke, what’s your excuse?

Hindsight is 20/20 right Alias? Maybe beating the drum of ‘reality’ isn’t your thing either. Keep trying to throw wet spaghetti at the wall man. Sooner or later you might get one that finally sticks.

Sayy my naaame say my nammme.

Listen Champ, I’m flattered that you know I matter but if that wasn’t already a foregone conclusion by the sheer amount of verbal dog shit being figuratively flung at me by these perpetual wastes of space that I keep fucking avoiding like I’m in the god damn Matrix, then I can’t help you. You asked, so you shall receive some attention from the Gold Standard.

This isn’t fourth and goal and there’s not two seconds left on the clock and you’re not down by six. It’s not the bottom of the ninth with two outs with a man on and you’re up to bat and down a run. This is a fucking blood sport, Champ. It’s not what you see on TNT or USA Network. There’s no TV timeouts, there’s no seventh inning stretch. There’s no cheerleaders to suck you off after a tough loss… I mean, unless you count Roxy but that’s another story. Nobody fucking cares that you’re good at other sports. I’m good at other sports. You don’t see me cryin’ about them not taking me seriously. The fact that they talk about me, that’s what tells me they take me seriously as a competitor despite their hyperbolic statements to the contrary.

This is professional wrestling in its purest form so you have to do things in order to be taken seriously and to be perceived as a threat. Do things that matter, then you’ll matter.

Witness, you boring insignificant piece of dog shit. Yes, I realize I said you were entertaining, but I was just being nice. You’re not, really. Back to the dog shit. You’re not even the dog shit in a yard that people step in. You’re that piece that gets stuck to the dogs ass hair and dangles there for days just waiting and praying that someone will notice and release you from that death grip you have on it so you don’t just fall and roll into a corner never to be seen again.

I’ll never measure up to my father he says. I got news for you, while my resume hasn’t reached what his was just yet, I’m far and away more talented than he ever was. While I’m sure he’d thank you for your kind words in his direction, you’re not gonna be in the ring with him. You’ll be in there with me and you say I’m less than he was, but my work in the ring tells a different story that doesn’t quite fit into your Newsmax narrative.

While it’s true that I have not doubted for a second that my ability will get me to the very end of this battle royal, you also neglect to mention the fact that I’ve pointed out more than once that battle royals are a crapshoot and you don’t have to be the best to walk out victorious.

“Oh my god all these guys are gonna eliminate me!”

Seems like a real winning strategy that y’all want me to use. I thank you all for the advice but something tells me it’s a trap.

Chris Page. My friend. My buddy. My pal… actually he’s none of those things. Your time is yet to come. When I fucking choose it.

Marf is right. I have an ego, a big mouth and a giant chip on my shoulder.

I’m like Ricky Bobby. I piss excellence and when you piss excellence, everyone wants to shut you the fuck up but I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news: y’all can team up and try and take me out but the fact will remain that regardless of the outcome and whether or not this 21 year old kid with an ego and a huge fuckin’ blue chip on his shoulder walks out with Universal title or not, when Sunday night turns to Monday morning, I’mma still piss excellence and most of you will be riding your asses right the fuck back out of town to the next opportunity you’ll fail miserably at.

That’s right. Fucking Blue Chip.

[Image: wgqr9W2.png]
74-31-1
Semi-Retired


1x  XWF Universal Champion || 3x  XWF Xtreme Champion || 1x  XWF Supercontinental Champion (First)
1x  XWF Hart Champion (Last) || 2x  XWF Television Champion || 1x  XWF Tag Team Champion
1x  OCW Savage Champion || 1x IIW Tag Team Champion  || 2x  SOTM (9/20, 7/21)
2021 Male Wrestler of the Year (shared w/ Alias) || XWF Hall of Legends
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"Loverboy" Vinnie Lane (11-29-2020), Barney Green (11-14-2020), Corey Smith (11-15-2020), Doctor Louis D'Ville (11-15-2020), HeavensToBetsy (11-19-2020), Marf (11-14-2020)




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