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X-treme Wrestling Federation » Anarchy Boards » Anarchy RP Board
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Blackout
Author Message
John Grayson Offline
Registered but either hasn't added self to a roster yet or doesn't RP



XWF FanBase:
Mixed

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


#1
01-11-2023, 08:37 PM

The backstage area of Wednesday Night Warfare after everything was all said and done was desolate. With almost everyone having gotten home, Madison Square Garden felt more like a ghost town than a proper wrestling arena. With the haunting ambiance it cast over the area, there were only so many reasons why you’d want to stick around right now.

Of course… we had one of the few reasons to explain our presence in that regard.

“So… this is it, right?” I asked, turning my head and gulping at the man beside me with nervous eyes. Cliff Pettit didn’t even look me in the eyes in response as he merely grunted under his breath, looking straight ahead at the padlock denying entry into the room, and pulled out a bolt cutter from the heavy bag he brought along.

“Stupid-ass security guards…” was one of the many hostile grumbles Cliff gave under his breath, before shaking his head and walking forward. As he unfurled the cutters…

SNAP!

The lock quickly responded, breaking in twain and clattering on the ground. Cliff wasted no time after, rapping on the door with concern in his voice. “John? You in there?”

No response.

“John, it’s Cliff.”

Silence. I awkwardly fidgeted in place, watching the old man ready to just turn into a tomato at this rate with how worked up this entire thing was making him.

Shaking his head, he decided to just go on in. Twisting the handle, the cluttered atmosphere of one locker room of John Grayson made itself known. There was clearly a panic having been present in this room - skid marks were across the floor, heavily present near the door as it looked like he had been trying to throw things from within in order to break the door.

A cracked phone was also nearby - of course, the fact that it was dead would explain why John didn’t even try calling either of us. And finally, the man himself, John Grayson, was lying soundly asleep on top of one of the benches in the locker room.

“Oh, for the love of fuckin’...” Cliff said exasperated, rushing on ahead as I could only watch. He took a nearby water bottle, pried it open, and proceeded to pour some of it on John’s face. The cool water splashed off of him, and with a yelp, he came to a sitting position.

“WOAH! The fuck?!”

“Glad to see you’re awake now,” Cliff said with an eased expression as John was getting up and at ‘em. “You alright?”

John gave Cliff a bewildered look, taking a few moments to connect the dots before grumbling as he wiped some of the dripping water off of his face.

“I feel like the morning after a party with how my head’s killin’ me. What time is it?”

“Past 1 AM,” Cliff said, giving John a paper. “Congratulations - Iunno what the Hell you did as soon as you came in, but Mark Flynn himself locked you from getting out of your room, and screwed you in your first match for the Hell of it.”

A moment of silence passed. John gave the paper a curious eyeball before bringing it off to the side as he responded.

“Who the Hell is Mark Flynn?”

That was what really brought out wide eyes from both myself and from Cliff. I buried my face in my palm in sheer disbelief. “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me…”

John noticed me and gave me a quick nod as Cliff took over once again to try and fill in the dots.

“You know. Mark Flynn.”

“Universal Champion.”

“One of the biggest names in the industry today.”

“Main event star. The man to go after. Y’know. That guy.”


John curiously scratched his chin, before-

“Never heard of him. I don’t give a fuck, though, who the Hell he is - dumbass just wasted an entire night of my life just so he could go play twenty questions with the crowd, it looks like.”

“Something like that…” I responded, stepping further inside the locker room.

“Yeah,” Cliff said, almost talking over me as he continued staring at John. “Well, you can try and get your revenge in the future. Right now, you’re too far away from being able to take on someone like Mark Flynn. You got your next match on the next Anarchy against Jessica Anderson. Go home for now - I’ll meet you back at Next Gear to help you get ready.”

It was coming from a place of genuine concern. After all, who the Hell could have predicted that John’s very own first match could have gotten hijacked like this? After telling him what was going to happen, Cliff nodded and walked off, leaving just me and John.

“Yo,” I nodded to him, parking a seat on the bench beside him. “Sorry I couldn’t get here sooner. If I’d known that shit was going to happen…”

“It is what it is. Thanks for coming anyway, Luke.”

John shrugged before continuing.

“That fucker Flynn’s gonna get his soon for trying to dick me over like that, but right now, I’m just gonna let this come as it goes.”

Amazed at John’s skill at letting things slide off of him, I pointed to the paper. It was none other than the information for the next Anarchy show, coming from the Scotiabank Arena. “You ready for Jess?”

“Never heard of her, either!”

John said it with a smile on his face, but… holy Hell, he was serious. We were going to work on this together.

“Willing to bet though that this is just some piddly fucking match they’re throwing at me to get my feet wet, though. So, who am I to try and disappoint? Dumb bitch is gonna get her head caved in, simple as.”

Riiight. Well, in any event, I nodded to the door. “Let’s get out of here, man.”

And with that, John nodded as the two of us cleaned this place up.
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"Loverboy" Vinnie Lane (01-12-2023), Mark Flynn (01-14-2023), Theo Pryce (01-13-2023)


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Blackout - by John Grayson - 01-11-2023, 08:37 PM



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