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Peter Vaughn · (08-12-2022)

The Road So Far:

The Custodial Coalition is under assault.

Peter Vaughn was in the midst of doing his new duties as the newly appointed Head Custodian of the Coalition, replacing his deceased friend in the leadership role. Vaughn was examining new weapons technology being developed at their headquarters' labs when a sudden explosion ripped through the complex. Soon, Vaughn was avoiding the attacks of a member of the Maintenance Mafia, another dangerous underground organization.

While Vaughn was able to take down that threat, it soon became apparent that an alliance had been formed through many of the smaller consortiums throughout the civil servant underground. These groups, or at least parts of them, had come together with one goal in mind: strike at the Custodial Coalition and its new leader and take it down once and for all.

Vaughn had an opportunity to run, to escape all of the conflict and leave the battles to his underlings. But Vaughn refused, hearing the voice of NKWC taunting him onward. He charged forward, going into the war, fighting level by level in order to get closer to the Security Room on Level C... a room that might be manned by a traitor.

Is Vaughn doing this out of concern for his fellow Custodians, wanting to save their lives? Highly doubtful. Is he doing it to preserve the Custodial Coalition way of life? It's unlikely that he cares about such things. But could it be that Vaughn has pushed forward simply because he's pissed off about being underestimated once again?

That theory appears to be the most believable.

So far, Vaughn has faced members of the Mafia, the Fireman's Brigade, and currently the Police Union. Some of the battles have gone better than others...

~The bullets fly forward, strangely darker than one would expect to see. Really, you wouldn't expect to see them at all, but slow motion is helping bring things into clearer view. As the bullets soar through the air, the camera turns, showing their target up ahead: Peter Vaughn. We see Vaughn slowly sliding backwards, as if to dodge, but even he's not quick enough to avoid a bullet. The first one slams into him chest-high, smashing into him... before rebounding off, out of the camera angle. Another hit nails Vaughn in the side of the leg, ricocheting off towards the wall. Before any others can hit, a seemingly impervious Vaughn dives for the safety of the intersection, sliding out of view. As he skids across the floor, the speed abruptly comes back to normal, so we can hear what's going on.~

Peter Vaughn: God damn it, that hurt!! Son of a bitch!!

~Vaughn rolls in pain, clutching at his bruised leg. He also coughs, feeling the impact to his chest. The police officers can be heard, shouting orders to each other, as they begin to approach.~

Bill: Mr. Vaughn? Are you okay? What's happening??

~Vaughn doesn't answer him. He's too busy trying to get up, rubbing at his sore chest. He looks at the ground, seeing some of the bullets laying there.~

Peter Vaughn: Rubber bullets. I guess that's a lucky break, but damn, that was painful.

Bill: Sir? The police can't discharge their actual firearms without having to fill out paperwork. But they can use rubber bullets without any concerns, and they also have other weapons at their disposal. Be careful!

Peter Vaughn: Other weapons?

~Vaughn glances around the corner, seeing the first officer getting close. The officer, seeing him up, immediately discharges the taser in his hand. Vaughn dives backwards, out of range, as the taser hits the wall, immediately going off and leaving a large scorch mark. Obviously, these tasers have been souped up from the original "non-lethal" variety. Vaughn stumbles back, glancing behind him at the rooms he could try to hide in. He takes a step that direction...~

~He then stops, reaching up behind him to grab the mop he's had attached to his back. As the first officer starts around the corner, Vaughn swings, knocking the weapon from him. Vaughn then steps forward, smashing the mop against the man's head, sending him flying. The other police officers move in.~

Police Officer: Don't let him get away! We need his access!

~The officers charge forward... to be met by Vaughn's own wild charge.~

Peter Vaughn: Time to lay down the law!! YAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!

~Vaughn swings wildly, managing to hit one of the troops, as the others pull either tasers or batons. The fight is on.~

I always knew there was a chance I'd be battling against the police at some point. This isn't exactly what I had in mind.

But as you can see, it doesn't matter what's put in front of me anymore. I'm not backing down. You could say North Korean War Criminal as well as Calypso have ignited a fire underneath me once again. NKWC, he did it by speaking basic truths at the right moment. Calypso? He proved he's more of a believer in the "Fake News" variety.

How else do you explain him suddenly talking about how I was on top of the world when I came to the XWF? That couldn't be a bigger exaggeration. Sure, I had become the OCW World Heavyweight Champion, but at the time I signed on with the XWF, that federation was shrouded in darkness due to the Purge. There wasn't one single wrestler here in the XWF who acknowledged what I had done in that organization, the one that tried to invade the XWF and failed horribly.

All of my other championship victories? Winning the TPW Intercontinental Title, the XWF Universal Title, and the PWV World Title? Those all came after I signed with the XWF, finding that I would have to prove myself once again. Unfortunately, circumstances severely worked against me in that regard. How many people out there can claim that they held three major championships at once, and still have people look at it as a fluke or just being 'lucky'?

And yet that's all I hear from people like Cally, that I don't deserve my place here. That I'm still an outsider. I signed here in 2021, Calypso. It's been nine months. I have fought everyone put in front of me, taking the majority of them down. I have become a multi-time champion here in the XWF. I've shown that Theo Pryce was a genius when he signed me at the Charity Cruise, bringing me on board. So what's it going to take, Cal? Two years? Five years? Fifty championships? How long until I'm no longer seen as the 'outsider', the 'pretender', a man who doesn't 'bleed the XWF' like you do?

You might want to try and staunch some of that bleeding, by the way. It's getting ridiculous.

You talk big about being so great with the XWF, yet what have you done here? You've failed, time and time again. You couldn't succeed at Anarchy. You couldn't ride NKWC's coattails all the way to success at Wargames. You couldn't defeat me the last time when you supposedly had all the momentum.

I don't think the XWF wants to claim you as one of the "true blood", Cal. I think they'd rather refer to you as a distant cousin, at the very least.

The XWF has become my home turf. Some may still doubt my run as a Universal Champion, although I still think that's ridiculous. Maybe I was given the title shot, but I earned that belt by sending Jim Caedus into retirement. But even for those who doubted that reign, I fought my way through an intense tournament to become Supercontinental Champion. In my first defense, I whipped your ass all over the ring and defended my title, proving that I was a better man. If it takes me sending you crashing thirty feet in the air all the way to the concrete below in the Last Man Rising match to make more of a statement, then I'm willing to do it. It's worth it to me to make more people believers.

You don't deserve to be in my home anymore, Cal. It's time for you to get evicted.

~The battle was undeniably violent. The white walls have splatters of red on them now, all delivered due to impact trauma spreading the line of blood across them. The camera zooms down to all of the unconscious officers, male and female, laying on the ground. None are moving. Standing over them, breathing heavily, is Peter Vaughn. His lip appears busted, and there's a contusion on his right arm, but otherwise he still seems to be functional. It's hard to tell from this angle how much internal damage was done, but Vaughn's never been one to show off those kinds of wounds. It makes them too much of a target.~

Bill: Okay, guys, the screaming has stopped. Let's try again. Mr. Vaughn? Sir? Are you there? Hello?

~After a few deep breaths, Vaughn responds, wondering if his own mic survived the chaos.~

Peter Vaughn: I'm here, Bill. Do you read me?

Bill: Thank the janitorial gods! Mr. Vaughn! What happened?

Peter Vaughn: Just had to deal with some injustice. No big deal.

~Vaughn winces as he starts to walk away, his leg still hurting from where the rubber bullet hit earlier. He refuses to let that slow him down, though. He walks forward, leaving the destruction behind him as he makes his way towards the stairway.~

Peter Vaughn: So I can take these stairs to Level C, right?

Bill: The stairs? Oh, no sir, I'm afraid not.

Peter Vaughn: What? What do you mean, you're afraid not?? I just fought through an entire squad of cops to get here! I thought this was supposed to be where I should go!!

Bill: It was, sir, it was! And it still is! It's just... our stairways are all segmented for security purposes.

Peter Vaughn: Segmented? What does that mean?

Bill: It means that these stairs will get you down to Level B, but that's it. You'll have to move towards the other side of Level B in order to find access to Level C.

Peter Vaughn: ... That seems like a major fire escape hazard to me.

Bill: If you wanted a straight escape, you should have used the express elevators like I showed you!

~Vaughn remembers the elevators in the lab, which helped to evacuate most of the staff to the surface. He shrugs, understanding the issue.~

Peter Vaughn: Okay, I get your point. But this gets me to Level B?

Bill: One step closer to the security control room, yes.

Peter Vaughn: Okay, then. Let's keep moving.

~Vaughn takes a step towards the door, as a groan comes from the pile of officers. Vaughn looks back, shaking his head. He reaches down and picks up one of the discarded tasers, considering it for a moment, before shooting it into the pile. At least two officers grimace due to the extended shocks coming their way, causing them to squirm on the floor. Vaughn releases the trigger, but the electrical charge appears to continue. Vaughn, confused, clicks the trigger a few more times without anything changing. He shrugs again and drops the taser, content to walk away and let it do all the work. He heads into the stairway, shutting the door behind him.~

~After a few seconds, the camera angle shifts to a door that reads "Level B". Vaughn walks out of the doorway, looking around at the slightly different paint job on the walls. He starts forward, triggering his mic once again.~

Peter Vaughn: So the stairway to Level C is at the end of the hallway on the other side?

Bill: Sort of. There are a few... twists and turns along the way. But you should be able to get there, as long as there's no resistance.

Peter Vaughn: Yeah, what's the odds of that happening, right? Heh...

~Vaughn walks forward, checking all around him as he walks, expecting an ambush at any moment. As he moves forward, his eyes are drawn to a solid line that's been drawn across the floor in front of him.~

Peter Vaughn: That's strange. Why'd you guys separate this hallway into a highway?

Bill: The line? Oh, that serves a completely different purpose. You'll notice where it changes?

~Confused, Vaughn keeps walking forward, realizing that the solid line is now moving to the left. It seems to drag up the wall at an angle, heading towards the ceiling. Vaughn follows it up to the wall, then tries to continue onwards, only to stagger to the left. He tries to right himself with no success, eventually falling to the side and rolling... up the wall. Vaughn slowly gets up, standing on the wall, struggling to readjust to the new gravity.~

Peter Vaughn: This is a trip...

Bill: I thought you might like it, sir. You see, one of the biggest complaints we've had from the companies we work for is the state of the ceilings in their buildings. It seems unbelievable, but many of them believe a dirty ceiling is the sign of poor workmanship from our custodians. So we were experimenting with a new technology, to allow custodians to reverse the polarity of gravity and allow them to easily mop the ceilings for our clientele. Ultimately, there have been a few too many bugs in the process so far for us to implement the changes anywhere else.

Peter Vaughn: You don't say...

~Vaughn staggers again, this time as he makes the transition to the ceiling of the hallway. For him, it's now the floor, which makes him look basically upside-down for us. Following the line, Vaughn continues forward, stepping around the edges when necessary.~

Peter Vaughn: I don't know how anyone gets much done here on Level B. Is this space completely wasted?

Bill: Oh, no, sir. Quite the opposite. We've had multiple breakthroughs thanks to the gravitational changes in this section of the building. Several of our employees would refuse to work anywhere else.

Peter Vaughn: Hmmm. Would any of those employees be groundskeepers, by any chance?

Bill: Groundskeepers? Inside of the building? No, none of them would be working here. Why do you ask?

Peter Vaughn: No reason, other than that I have a guy standing in front of me. I had a feeling he wasn't with us.

~The camera slowly turns, showing Vaughn from behind as he stares forward. Standing sideways from Vaughn is the groundskeeper, wearing the traditional green overalls that most people have seen. The red-headed greenskeeper smiles darkly at Vaughn, then slowly reaches behind him. He pulls out a pair of hedge shears, grabbing hold of them with both hands. Vaughn nods to him, understanding immediately. He brings out his mop again, swinging it around to face him.~

Bill: What's going on?

Peter Vaughn: Nothing I can't handle.

~The groundskeeper, still smiling, twists both ends of the hedge shears. Multiple blades pop out, joining the already sharp edges on the end. Vaughn takes a deep swallow.~

Peter Vaughn: Then again...

~Sensing Vaughn's sudden trepidation, the groundskeeper steps forward, pressing another button that makes a few of the blades begin to twirl around. Vaughn stares at the blades, then lifts his mop up, pointing it at the groundskeeper... and pressing a button on the back. The mop head instantly erupts in flames, leaving a trail in the air as Vaughn swings it back and forth. The groundskeeper's eyes widen, but he doesn't back down.~

Peter Vaughn: Looks like it's time for a little Inception...

Bill: What? Sir, please be careful...

Peter Vaughn: Sure, Bill... sure...

~Vaughn starts moving forward, making sure to stay on the line, as the groundskeeper begins approaching as well. The two start moving faster and faster, before launching at each other with weapons in hand, each letting out a battle cry as they swing at each other.~

I've always loved defying gravity.

Even back when I was a "happy doofus" back in the day, not realizing my full potential, I still liked to take to the skies and try out new moves. I never worried much about the landing. Either I'd hit what I was aiming for, or I wouldn't. No matter what, I knew the landing would hurt. But that was all part of the game.

It was basically putting full faith in my own abilities, with the hope that it would prove to be successful. Of course, my craft has gotten a hell of a lot better since the old days. I rarely miss my targets now. I've learned to dominate when it's just myself vs. another foe, someone who thinks they can stand on their own against me.

Most of them have left with different beliefs afterwards.

But then there are people like Colonoscopy, who thought that I should be more of a tag-team threat. That's never really been my specialty, because that requires that I trust my partner just as much as I trust myself... and that's never going to be the case, especially when it's someone like Calp.

It's hilarious to hear Calypso now saying stuff like "InVAUGHNcible" is done. You know, it had to actually become a thing for it to be finished, right? He's basically claiming the dissolution of something that never started. It's like you hear that geek in high school proclaiming that he would have never dated the top cheerleader, anyway. Everyone knows the truth, Cal. You weren't good enough to get that prom invite accepted by me.

Did that actually happen to you, Cal? If it did, my apologies for bringing up bad memories. I only want to hurt you in the present, not in the past.

It would certainly help explain the obsession with wearing masks, though, I suppose.

But let's stick to the heart of the matter. InVAUGHNcible isn't done. It never existed other than in the lamest dreams during your fitful nights of sleep. You never got granted that wish. You never earned it. You have to come to terms with your own failure in that regard. Because I started to consider it, I admit it... until you were such a disappointment in our last title match.

You proved to the world that you just weren't good enough to be my partner. You don't deserve to be in the pantheon of Peter Vaughn Tag-Team partners. That area is reserved for great stars like "Chronic" Chris Page. Mark Flynn. SEB. Bam Miller.

Vaughn and Calypso would never have worked, because I have no interest in carrying someone like you to the finish line, time and time again.

Although, to be fair, I definitely plan to carry you in our match on Wednesday. I just plan to drop you as soon as I get you up high enough in altitude. Bet you'll be begging me at that moment to be your partner and 'revive' the team, just so your body is spared the impact.

But as you said... we're done.

~The shot comes back with Vaughn falling upwards. He lands on the ceiling, which is now the floor, rolling for a few meters before coming to a stop. His shirt is slashed open down the front, showing a splash of blood across his chest. The groundskeeper steps forward, still looking like he's having the time of his life, even if he hasn't said a single word. He comes forward, stepping up onto the 'ceiling' as he faces Vaughn, who tries to get up.~

Peter Vaughn: Do you... even... speak English? Because... I feel like... I'm wasting good... quips on you...

~Vaughn struggles to get up, coughing as he leans forward on his mop handle. The base looks badly scarred up, having taken a few blows for Vaughn. The groundskeeper still doesn't speak, although he does seem to understand Vaughn. He just doesn't care to respond. Instead, he comes in, raising up his shears for another swing. Vaughn lifts up his mop, blocking the strike, although the mop itself now has a large crack in it. He stumbles back, almost falling into the wall, as the gravity shifts once again. Sensing it, Vaughn braces his foot against the wall, staying upright. He considers the mop and its decreasing flames, before staring back at the grinning groundskeeper.~

Peter Vaughn: Alright, Willie. It looks like it's time for the final clipping. You ready?

~The groundskeeper seems to sense it as well, as his smile grows larger. He comes in with a sideways swing, with Vaughn managing to avoid it. The groundskeeper then lifts his shears over his head, preparing to swing them straight down into Vaughn. The wrestler brings the mop up in a blocking position, with the groundskeeper locking onto it with the shears... and cutting right through it! As the mop splinters into pieces, Vaughn jumps sideways, up onto the 'wall'. The groundskeeper, thrown off-balance, staggers to the side... as Vaughn plunges the broken end of the mop into his stomach!! The groundskeeper looks up at Vaughn, startled, the grin finally fading. Vaughn nods to him.~

Peter Vaughn: You should have stuck to the sprinklers, boyo.

~Vaughn stumbles away, going back down the hall by way of the 'ceiling', as the groundskeeper slumps onto his side, no longer moving. Vaughn limps along, eventually coming back to the 'floor' level. As he does so, he pushes on his Bluetooth, getting it active once again.~

Bill: ..SIR!! PLEASE RESPOND!! SIR!!!

Peter Vaughn: I'm here, Bill, now shut up for a minute, will you? I had to silence you during the fight, it was way too distracting...

Bill: Are you still... intact?

Peter Vaughn: Nothing cut off that won't grow back...

~Vaughn runs a quick hand through his hair, which does appear to be slightly shorter. At least he wasn't scalped. He moves on, having gotten past the gravity hallway.~

Peter Vaughn: So I've got... a few notes... for you, Bill.

Bill: Of course, sir. I'm listening.

Peter Vaughn: The Inferno Mop? It's got some potential. But you've got to build it out of a firmer material.

Bill: Well, we tried a carbon steel variation, but it seemed to affect the weight too much.

Peter Vaughn: Well, I can tell you in practice that the weight issue should be less of a drawback compared to its structural integrity.

Bill: I'll make a note. Sir? Are you really okay?

Peter Vaughn: I've... been through worse. You should have seen me during the cage wars of OCW. That was some brutal shit.

Bill: You know, sir, you can still break out of there. We have elevators that haven't been used on Level B. I could direct you to them. You can still escape.

Peter Vaughn: Can't you just send me some reinforcements instead? Don't the elevators go both ways?

Bill: No, sir. They're designed to be one way for security reasons. I'm sorry.

Peter Vaughn: Well, I'm not running. I'm not a...

[Image: coward.png]

Peter Vaughn: I'm... I'm going to see this through, Bill. Just give me some room, and it'll all be taken care of.

Bill: Okay, Mr. Vaughn. It's your call.

Peter Vaughn: Damn straight it is.

~Vaughn moves around the corner at the end of the hall, turning to where the stairway should be. It's there, supposedly, although we can't see it that well due to the large board that's been placed in front of it, locking it down. Standing in front of the board are three women. They slowly turn towards Vaughn, having expected him to show up. One smiles, revealing the whip she's got on her side. The older lady steps forward, disconnecting the whip from her belt.~

Woman #1: Finally. I was beginning to think you weren't going to make it for your lesson.

Woman #2: We aren't a fan of tardiness.

Woman #3: Now you're going to have to stay later.

~All three of the women brandish their weapons, as Vaughn lets out a long, heavy sigh. The camera focuses on him as he slumps against the wall for a minute, taking a few seconds to catch his breath after all he's been through.~

Bill: What is it? What's wrong?

Peter Vaughn: ... Teachers. Damn, I hated school, too...

~Vaughn's comments are cut off as the whip flies in, catching him around the neck. Vaughn grabs at the whip, tugging on it, but can't avoid a second whip going around his wrist. He's yanked forward, out of view, as another battle begins.~

A little education can be painful.

Just look at Cal. He surely thinks that he's going to have the upper hand on me after fighting me so many times over the past month. He believes that he can make things different by learning from his past mistakes.

But he forgets that I've learned from my missteps as well, slip-ups that would have ended our contests that much quicker. Cally has a few obvious weaknesses that can be targeted, that maybe I haven't exploited enough in the past. We won't be avoiding those this time, Calp. After all, this is the finale. Everything must go.

It's Clearance Time. Time to throw out all the remaining trash and move forward.

The worst thing for you, Cal, is that everything you might have picked up from me in our regular, rule-abiding wrestling matches will be thrown out in my Last Man Rising match. You see, I deliberately made this one as light on rules as possible. Really, the only instruction that has to be followed is that the first to hang onto the championship is the winner. That means that I can do anything else to you I want, and all the ref will be able to do is shake their head and shrug.

You've never faced me in this kind of match. To my knowledge, you have an extremely low amount of experience fighting in a contest that could have you seeing your own blood pretty early in the night. Are you someone who's squeamish around blood? I'd hate to have you pass out when we're just getting started. Try to control that, okay?

You see, I may not seem like it, but not that long ago, I was known for having the most violent matches around. I've battled in Broom Closet Brawls, in Barbed Wire Broomstick wars, in hellish cells that would slice you open if you so much as touched them. I've proven myself to the world that I can exist in a hardcore environment.

I'm really interested to see what you bring to the table, Cally. This isn't exactly a place where heroes thrive. It's more like vigilante territory. Ever pictured yourself as the Punisher? You might have to do so if you want to survive.

Or, y'know, stick to your beliefs. Think of yourself as honorable and morally strong. We'll see if you still believe that was the right course of action in the end when you're finding yourself taking the Plunge.

Your final lesson is right around the corner, Cal. I hope you're ready to embrace it. I know I am.

~The camera cuts to where Bill is still waiting, hidden away on Level A. He's listening intently, trying to figure out what's going on.

Bill: Sir? Sir, please respond! What's happening?

~The crack of a whip sounds through the speakers, followed by a blast of static. The transmission appears to come to an end.~

Bill: Mr. Vaughn!! PETER!!

~There's no response. Bill sighs and puts his head in his hands for a few seconds, before taking a deep breath and switching channels on his headset.~

Bill: Luke, are you there?

Luke: Affirmative, Bill. We're still waiting. What's the word?

Bill: The word... is given. Send Memphis in.

Luke: Sir... if the Head Custodian is still in there...

Bill: I know, Luke. But the way things sound... we'll need a miracle to get him out of there. Best to put things in motion now.

Luke: If... if you're sure, sir...

Bill: ... Do it.

~Bill clicks off the channel, slumping slightly in his chair.~

Bill: May the Coalition forgive me...

~The picture slowly fades out on a shot of the crushed look on Bill's face.~

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