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X-treme Wrestling Federation »   » Archives » Leap of Faith 2019 RP Board
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En el borde del acantilado
Author Message
Hanari Carnes 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
07-20-2019, 07:35 PM

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‘Have you ever stood on the edge of a cliff or the balcony of a high rise building when you’ve suddenly had the thought ‘what if I jump’?

How did you feel? Did you ever think that you would actually jump? Did you know that you were in control over whether you jumped or not? Most people experience a surge of anxiety but know that they would never jump.

He stood at the edge of the cliff. All he needed was a push. A mental push.

The water below looked blue. Crystal clear.

He mentally calculated the distance to the rocks below. If he would have been in his swanky office complex now, he would probably have been standing on the balcony of the third floor.

The only difference was that this was not his office and there was no balcony here.

---His life was in shambles. His wife hated him and his kids didn't respect him. His boss expected too much of him, and his peers thought he needed to talk to someone. He had screwed over more people than he had helped, all because he felt too much pressure. He felt the need to impress at all times, even when his family was on vacation. He had often left them at the beach, left them at the dinner table, left them at the bus stop--all to be on the conference call with his boss which he wasn't even required to be on.

The water rushed below him. There was something peaceful and serene about water, but also something terrifying. Something fierce, uncontrollable. Something majestic.

He inched closer to the ledge, he couldn't really do this, could he?


---He reminded himself that he had quit his job sometime ago. He had a menial job slogging on his workstation for some client whose only reasons of hiring people in India were that labor and real estate were cheap. He was paid, but not much. He used his brains while working, but not much. In a nutshell, his life was like most of the white collared, educated, salaried labor class that this country specializes in producing. No, his work life was not the problem. The problem was something else. Something more profound. Something whose roots lay deeper. His life appeared pointless. His money appeared worthless. His clothes, his shoes, his watch and all his material belongings seemed pathetic. His life was not so bad a couple of months ago.

He remembered kissing his wife, kissing his kid, rolling over in the morning and feeling happy. He wasn't rich, but they weren't poor. He had provided for them the way a breadwinner should provide. He had given them a roof over their head, they weren't hungry, and his wife wasn't the subject of gossip at church or her book club meetings because she wore the same clothes every day.

They had what any middle class family could ask for, and yet they always seemed to want more.

They were sucked in by the materialism that capitalism brings. They had nice things, but they wanted nicer things. Kids in school had iPhones, iPad, iEverythings. They had damn near designer shoes. They wore clothes from their favorite brands. His kids didn't look shabby but they were the subject of a few jabs at school. Kids can be ruthless. He took this to the chin, he felt like it was his fault.

Kids can be ruthless.

---The commute to his office was mostly uneventful. He had to endure the typical sights and sounds of the torture chamber called the “public transport” every morning. Every neatly ironed shirt got hopelessly crumpled within the first ten minutes of the journey. Weird smelling hair oils on random heads chocked his nostrils everyday. And the shoes. He had the habit of polishing his shoes everyday till he had started working. The commute to office changed all that.

He had never had road rage before, but all of the frustration his family brought him came out. Yelling, punching the wheel, pressing the breaks down until his feet hurt and holding the horn until he was certain it would break.

The train was no better. People in general sucked. He looked around at them and all he could think of were how much better they were than him.....their families probably weren't disappointed him them. They probably gave their kids whatever they wanted.

He inched closer to the ledge. Why couldn't he do it? He was such a failure he couldn't even kill himself.......

---On normal days, the number of feet that may have left their mark on his shoes could be somewhere around ten. On some days, it went up to twenty. Hopelessly, he had given up polishing before he left for his work resorting to using the services of the poor boy near his office who worked in a makeshift arrangement where he not only mended shoes but also polished and shone them. He was a person he met daily. He had dirty hair and probably two sets of tattered clothes which he wore on alternate days. His lips were dry and his finger nails were dirty. He looked no different than any rag-picker. He had big brown eyes though. Those eyes were beautiful.

The boy reminded him so much of his son. He thought about that boy as he stood there, listening to the water roll underneath him. Listened to it growl and watched it sparkle. The boy, despite being dirty, had brown eyes, just like his son. He remembered when his son was born, how beautiful his eyes were. What had be become? The last words his son said to him before he left the house were how bad of a dad he is, and his friends dads are so much cooler.

Kids can be ruthless.

---Their initial interaction remained strictly business related. The boy polished his shoes and he paid him. Not a word was exchanged for the first couple of months. Gradually, their meetings got informal. It took some time but smiles were followed by occasional chit-chat. The duration of their interaction still remained limited to those five minutes per day only partly because of the fact that he had a habit of reaching his workplace right before his shift was about to start. Two weeks ago, for the first time, the boy had a request to make. By then, their occasional chit-chat had turned into crisp conversations with more meaningful sharing of information. At the outset, his request seemed strange. This conversation was different. It had money involved.

The boy had requested him to lend him some money.


His own family had their hands in his pockets enough. He put one foot over the ledge and closed his eyes. Was this boy who he became so close with just using him like all the rest? Goddamn why was he so naive, so stupid, and most of all so caring? As he prepared to jump, he thought to himself, 'maybe nice guys really do finish last'. He took a deep breath...bracing himself for the fall. Would it hurt?

Was it bad that he wished it did?

---He had promised to return it though. “Why do you need the money?” he asked the boy.

The boy had not replied but he had probably seen a tear drop at the edge of his eye waiting to gain in volume and roll down his cheek. The boy had wiped his eyes with his dirty hands before that could happen.

“I think I have to go see the doctor.”, the boy had said.

“I have been coughing a lot of late. There is a lot of blood. I am scared.”, the boy had said crying.

He had stood there unmoved. He was not sure he believed the story. A lot of similar stories from a lot of urchins he had met on the roads had an almost similar, albeit slightly tweaked, theme. “Bullshit", he had thought to himself. All these kids were the same. No matter what amount he gave him it wouldn't be enough.

“I shiver at night too. I have no one in this world who I can call my own. I am lonely. And scared. Please help me sir. I have no money.”, the boy had continued.

“Yeah right! As if this was the first time I am hearing something of this sort from someone of your social standing.”, he had thought to himself.

“Let me see what I can do for you. Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be fine. I am there for you. I will take you to the doctor tomorrow.”, he had told the boy softly caressing his hair.

His words had seemed to calm the boy. He thought he had taken care of the matter.

He had it all figured out. He would not break the boy’s heart right away by showing that he did not believe in his story but there was no way that he was falling into his trap and letting him get away with what he considered blatant extortion. From the next day onwards, he had started using the second entrance to his office, the one on the other side of the building.

He had started a practice of packing his neatly polished pair of shoes in a plastic bag and carrying them while his commute to work, which he suffered wearing a pair of sandals and then changing into his shoes before he entered his workplace. He avoided the first gate even at the end of his shift, even though he was pretty sure that the boy would not be there then, just to be sure that the boy could never see him again. He thought that he had done pretty well in his attempts at avoiding the boy.


OH SHIT!!!!!!!


He had never checked in on the boy. Albeit, on purpose, but right as he stepped off the ledge the boys big brown eyes came rushing back into his sight-line. Its all he could see. He opened his eyes with a rush and took off towards his normal spot. The boy was nowhere to be found.

His wife pestered him about not answering his phone. She didn't know he was up on a ledge, planning to end it all. His kids wanted to go to the mall, and they demanded--not asked for--demanded his credit card because they wanted to 'dress like the cool kids'. When he explained to them his card was maxed, they called him a loser. His own kids, called him a loser. He found himself crying while cutting the grass, wishing the little boy he had intentionally blown off was his son, anything he gave that boy he would be grateful for.

Kids could be ruthless.....

---Today had been a different day than all the previous days though. He was just about to enter his office building through the second gate in a slight hurry since he had to change into his shoes before entering the office and he was running out of time. It was then that he saw the crowd near the first gate. It seemed odd. There appeared to be some police-men and what looked like an ambulance from the pre – independence era. He walked towards the crowd partly out of curiosity and partly because he felt a gentle force pulling him towards the scene.

What he saw, froze the world around him. There was the boy on the ground, covered in blood. There was blood all over his tattered shirt, around his lips and on his chin. There were open wounds in his body. Blood had oozed out of them and had coagulated. He appeared skinnier than when he had last seen him two weeks ago. He looked pale and dead. He walked away, as if in a trance.

He quit his job that afternoon and jumped from the edge of the cliff that evening.




Hanari sat in the now emptying bar, swirling his glass. This was the biggest opportunity of his entire life. This was the match that would define him and his 'legacy'. His return match didn't go as he planned, but that didn't matter to him. He wouldn't dwell on it. Couldn't. This was leap of faith, this was his time.

His eyes caught the front door as it swung open.

The glass dropped, shattered on the bar, mixing with his ice and whiskey.

Before he knew what happened, he was on the ground.




"Missa Santos.....

Chu has been quite de competitor, mang. Chu has been taking the XWF by storm. Hanari appreciate that. Chu has been campeón de televisión, campeón extremo n now de Hart. Star of de month twice. Shit, chu es probably not worried about little old Hanari Carnes.

..........Chu should be.

Before ya begin going on and on about Lacklan, chu can save it. She cash in on the ref distracting Hanari and she roll him up. Twas a hell of a match, so much so that XWF brass decided Hanari deserve a title shot. They could have put a returning Hanari agains' anyone, but dey chose you, mang. They want to test chu. Did chu forget, Hanari won a belt in his second ever match here? He now have a chance to win one in his second match back.

Chu is being regarded as a "dominant" champ one of de best in recent memory. Chu has defended that belt agains' good talent, but chu es in for something totally different this time, chico. Dis time, chu has the mos' stubborn competitor in de world across from chu. Hanari will never quit, chi es gon' have to kill him first. If chu es gon' hit de king, chu better kill de king.

Chor Hairline es a straight as James Charles, and Which one of your eyebrows pays child support? Chu es an ugly bastard. Hanari would be glad to knock a few more teeth out cha mouth, mang. For real, chico, chu look like chu drowned in de gene pool.

But, insults aside, do chu really think Hanari es afraid of you mang? Do chu think Hanari is afraid of dis opportunity? When Hanari first get here, he was put up against a campeón that had all de allure, all de recognition, a campeón that many had tried and failed to beat in the months prior. Hanari was de new guy, an nobody really give him a chance. He prove everybody wrong, chico, and when Hanari sees chu, he see's a lot of de same. He see's Mastermind, he sees a campeón that has been dominant. Hanari knows dis no gon' be easy, he would be a fool to think it is. Estúpido. But Hanari know who he is inside, mang. Hanari knows the fight he es capable of, and he knows that he never quit, even when he dead.

He stood eye to eye with greatness, and he overcame. Chu think Hanari can't do that again? NOBODY is giving Hanari a chance in dis match, mang, so he es jus' gon' have to believe in hisself. He know that dis es de toughest challenge he will eva have.....but he also know that et es de toughest challenge CHU whill ever face as well. Hanari has stand up to the face of adversity before, dis es nothing new. Chu aren't some god figure, mang, chu es jus' a guy in Hanari eyes. Times has change aroun' here. Chu no longer see Massamind as "great", and that es ya own perogative but when Hanari beat him, he was top tier. Hanari has been in dis situation before, and he es goin' to be ready mang.

Hell, even da XWF website listed a win over Hanari Carnes as a signature victory. Fo' someone with seven matches here, chico, someone' in de back see Hanari's value.

Hanari es not goin' to sit here an' say chu es no talented, because you is. Chu is de campeón for a reason, an has defend it successfully for a reason. Hell, even Hanari failed to hold his belt, but chu has fended off all opposition until now. Hanari es not going to sit here and tell chu that chu suck......cuz chu don't. BUT Hanari WILL say dat he is the one member of dis roster that chu has never seen the likes of. Hanari es bred different, Hanari es about survival. Hanari no quit, and Hanari keep coming. Passion, mang. Tenacity. XWF mean so much to Hanari because of de chance dey gave him, and he no want to disappoint. He want to be a campeón, and de fact that Hanari was given a title match at one of de bigger pay per views of de year es an honor, yo. He could be in some regular match, but no, he has a chance for a reputatble title with clout behind his name, and Hanari no take that lightly. Hanari also know he no going to get too many chances. Dis is as close to a must win for Hanari as he has ever been in. A vic'tory here, mang, will elevate Hanari to heights that he has never been before. Will bring Hanari to the limelight he deserve. A win over chu, Tony Santos, will put Hanari on de map for good. A victory over Tony Santos will go down in de history books, and Hanari Carnes es destined to be something major here.

He has, Hart, if chu will.


Viva el dominicano!

Viva el Savage!

Viva el Hanari Carnes!


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[-] The following 2 users Like Hanari Carnes's post:
Darius Xavier (07-21-2019), Tony Santos (07-20-2019)




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