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X-treme Wrestling Federation »   » Archives » Relentless Day 3 RP Board 2020
Soft Deadline I Believe in LEGACY (RP 1)
Author Message
James Raven Offline
Registered but either hasn't added self to a roster yet or doesn't RP



XWF FanBase:
Some of everyone

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


#1
09-19-2020, 10:56 PM

[Image: RR-4Tiles.jpg]

Above all else, I believe in LEGACY.

I believe in that which we leave behind when we’re finished. I believe in the actions that we’re remembered for, and the impressions we leave upon the masses. Now to be clear, it doesn’t matter if I believe in LEGACY or not. It doesn’t matter if you do either. It’s here regardless, and everything we do contributes to it. Every title belt we win or pay per view we headline, every tournament we battle through and notch we tally in the win column… LEGACY.

I’m confident in what I’m leaving behind. I’m proud of the memories I’ve left for the fans. I know exactly who I am, and for those of you that might not allow me to fucking tell you; I am James fucking Raven, The People’s G.O.A.T. I’m a Legend, an icon, a national goddamn treasure for multiple countries. I’m your girlfriends favorite wrestler and your child's role model. I’m the top star to ever step foot in this company, the most dedicated, the most passionate.

I have given everything to the XWF.

I. Am. The. XWF.

LEGACY.

That’s mine. Definitive. Ironclad.

Do you know what yours is, Robbie?

Your LEGACY is “what if?”. Match by match, month by month, year by year; what if Robbie actually shows up? What if he puts his best foot forward and finally lives up to his potential? What if he makes a concerted effort to live up to the hype he generates for himself, and fulfills the expectations of the fans and peers that he’s managed to hoodwink into supporting him? What if Robbie lost fifty pounds and could move more nimbly between the ropes? What if he didn’t wipe his ass with every golden opportunity management throws his way, and act like he was above the rest of us?

That's yours. Open ended. Cloudy.

Are you with me so far? Good. We’ve found common ground in the fact that we are not the same, and when the final page is written in each of our careers and the history book closes… the memories we leave behind will not be the same either. We are not on the same level, so that begs a very important question:

Why the fuck am I even here?

Why would I give you the time of day?



LEGACY.

It has been brought to my attention that you feel there is some sort of hole in yours, a void that was caused by me and can only be closed by a second opportunity to beat me clean with the XWF Universe as our witness.

For over two years now I’ve heard the whispers in the locker room when I walk past; “Robbie hates him”. For well over 750 days I’ve had fans at meet and greets tell me all about some article they read online, detailing how salty you were that I didn’t give you the respect you deserved for your win and how I put an asterisk on your Universal title.

Were you expecting some sort of coronation?

Was I supposed to kneel before you and congratulate the blind squirrel for finally finding a nut?

You’re no rookie, Robbie. Don’t make me sit you down on my knee and explain to you how the wrestling business works, because I don’t have the time or crayons that it would take to break things down to your level. I didn’t get any sort of seal of approval from Bruce(tte) Blingsteen when I beat them for the Universal Championship, but do you think I let that bitch put an asterisk on my reign? Do you think anybody else sees my reign as some kind of fluke?

FUCK NO!

I made myself undeniable. It didn’t matter what effort came from the other side of the ring; I knew, the fans knew, and everyone in the locker room knew that I was going to top it. I believed I was the champion with every fibre of my being, and when Blingsteen flew the coop everyone else believed with me.

YOU put an asterisk on your reign, Robbie. Not me. If you’re looked back on as a shitty champion, as someone that was overshadowed by the man he “beat”, it’s because you weren’t able to own your shit and make them believe like I could.

The people will remember that.

LEGACY.

I want to tell you to go fuck yourself, that I’ve moved on from the XWF and you don’t deserve my time… but I believe in LEGACY, and not just my own. I believe everyone deserves the opportunities to better theirs, and some less fortunate like yourself need the icons to throw you a bone. You want a second shot, Robbie? You want a chance to heal your mental wounds and prove to everyone that you can actually beat me when I actually give it some elbow grease? You got it. Steve Jason offered me the same opportunity once, and made me promise to pay it forward.

Debt repaid.

What happens when you lose, though? What happens when we reach the likeliest of outcomes and the ring crew has to peel your body off the floor and wipe your blood from the mat before Lacklan can defend the belt you’re so bent out of shape about? Are you going to admit that you were wrong or something? I mean, I’d certainly appreciate some sort of public statement letting everyone know that I am in fact the superior talent and a Legend for a reason. You know, just verify my win for the audience.

That’s what you wanted from me, right? Seems fair...

Have no fear, Robbie. I AM going to wreck you this time, faster than I wrecked the Mother Fuckers when I joined my Apex brothers. I’m going to leave no doubt in anybody's mind that I’ve been right all this time, and that you caught me on the one night out of one hundred that I wasn’t my full self.

You know, it’s crazy that we’re here all these years later, Robbie. I always thought you’d be thanking me, but to have harbored this sort of resentment? This sort of bitterness? How do you not see it, Bourbon? That lone Universal title you’ve “won” in your career, all but gifted from me on a silver platter? It’s the only reason you’re even a “what if?”... that one glimpse of you atop the mountain is what created the potential people see in you, it sets the expectations you so casually and unremorsefully fall short of, it’s what gives you the legitimacy to run your mouth and hype your overrated ass up with any sort of credibility.

I didn’t just give your ungrateful ass a Universal championship.

I gave you a career.

I gave you a LEGACY.

You wasted it all.

It doesn’t matter, because after this weekend the wrong will be righted. You’ll be peeling your bloody lips from shattered teeth and nobody will remember that you ever beat me to begin with. You think I put an asterisk on your reign before?

You ain’t seen nothing yet.

Fear the Raven… Forevermore...





The Texas sun beats down on my face as I stand outside Shawn Warsteins recently purchased Dallas home, flanked by Shawn and an unfamiliar face to XWF faithful. Jackson Hart, my tag team partner, co-champion, and protege. I’ve been spending a lot of time here the past month or so. My departure from XWF took me to unfamiliar pastures, seemingly greener, with unlikely allies…

Right on cue Shawn offers highball glasses to Jackson and I, Hart taking his with a curious expression on his face.


JACKSON HART: So, who’s this Bourbon guy?

SHAWN WARSTEIN: Some asshole.

JAMES RAVEN: He’s good. He’s a veteran, he’s dangerous.

SHAWN WARSTEIN: Fat slob.

JAMES RAVEN: He’s a former Universal Champion.

SHAWN WARSTEIN: He might be ]

Jackson nods his head slowly, realizing that his answer is somewhere in the middle. I glare at Shawn, his downplaying of Robbie is doing nobody any favors. Hell, Jackson is already starting to overlook most of our opponents, and while it’s not entirely his fault… it’s still a bad precedent to set. Shawn shrugs unapologetically and takes a sip of his drink before turning to survey the Texas sky.

[b]JACKSON HART: So… are we gonna stand out here and keep drinking all day, or are we heading to the airport?


SHAWN WARSTEIN: We’re waiting for Noah. He had some ideas.

JAMES RAVEN: Ideas?

SHAWN WARSTEIN: For you.

Oh fuck. Wildcard, bitches.

We hear the front door burst open, all three of us turning to see Noah stumble onto the porch with a large brown cardboard box in his arms. He turns and kicks at the door angrily, as if it had somehow attacked him and caused him to trip out of the home. As the door swings shut, we notice several dents in the metal. This has happened before. I turn to look at Shawn for confirmation, but he just shrugs. Noah bounds down the steps and across the yard, the cardboard box bouncing from side to side in his grasp with each step as he approaches.


NOAH JACKSON: ‘Sup cunts?!

JACKSON HART: What’s up, Noah?

SHAWN WARSTEIN: What’s in the box?

JAMES RAVEN: Please be Gwyneth Paltrow's head.

Noah drops the box on the ground, opening the flaps and standing back to reveal its contents to the rest of us. He beams proudly in the Texas sun. Noah is the best boy.

JACKSON HART: Are those… CD’s?

NOAH JACKSON: Yup!

JAMES RAVEN: Why were we waiting for you to look for these?

I slowly pull my cell phone from my pocket and hold it up in the air.

JAMES RAVEN: Anything you want to listen to I can just stream.

NOAH JACKSON: Yeah, new stuff, but this is all 90’s music! For Relentless!

JAMES RAVEN: … I can look up ‘90s music, Noah.

His smile softens.

NOAH JACKSON: Alright well you don’t have to be a cunt about it.

SHAWN WARSTEIN: Yeah, James. You don’t have to be a cunt about it.

JACKSON HART: Seriously, man, you don’t have to be-

JAMES RAVEN: So help me God, I will muder you Jackson.

Jackson falls silent. Noah reaches down into the box and pulls out several CD’s, still in their classic jewel cases. He begins to flip through them.

NOAH JACKSON: Hanson. Montel Jordan. Will Smith. Brittney Spears. Nirvana. R.E.M. This is some fantastic stuff, boys.

JAMES RAVEN: What does this have to do with Relentless, though? Besides being 90’s?

SHAWN WARSTEIN: No Dr. Dre?

JACKSON HART: I always pegged you as more of an Eminem fan.

Shawn shrugs. He should trademark that move.

NOAH JACKSON: UGH! I thought you’d never ask! This is a perfect opportunity for you to switch up your ring entrance! A 90’s theme night?! Get creative! Get jiggy with it!

Jackson and Shawn look thoughtfully at each other, and this time it’s Jackson offering up the shrug.

JACKSON HART: You know, it’s not a bad idea. You’ve been using the same theme for a decade, why not do something different?

SHAWN WARSTEIN: I think Alanis Morisette really fits your brand.

JAMES RAVEN: Fuck you.

NOAH JACKSON: You Oughta Know is a jam, though. OOOOH! Ricky Martin! Let’s do Ricky Martin!

Jackson looks at Noah with an arched eyebrow.

NOAH JACKSON: If Raven comes out to Ricky Martin you best believe I’m livin la vida loca down the ramp with him. That’s non negotiable.

I grin and shake my head. I glance at my watch, realizing how quickly the time is slipping away.

JAMES RAVEN: Come on, we have to get going.

I glance at Noah.

JAMES RAVEN: Bring your CD’s. We’ll talk on the way.

Noah snatches up the box and takes off across the yard towards the garage. Shawn, Jackson and I watch him go. It’s only then that I realize we’re all still holding the highball glasses Shawn offered a few minutes ago.

JAMES RAVEN: Wait, who’s driving to the airport?

In unison Shawn and Jackson down the contents of their glasses and point to me. I stand silently as Shawn reaches over and takes my glass.

SHAWN WARSTEIN: I’ll have yours.

He downs the contents.

SHAWN WARSTEIN: On to Leap of Faith.

JAMES RAVEN: Relentless.

SHAWN WARSTEIN: Whatever man.

This is going to be a long three days.




[Image: RavenNameLogo.png]

Oh Robert Burnaby Bourbon, did you think we were finished? I did. I said everything I had to say and I made my point, but then I remembered something.

I believe in LEGACY.

Not the LEGACY we spoke of before, but the most dominant alliance of talent in the industry today. The braintrust that’s rejuvenated me like an adrenaline shot to the heart, and started dragging me back through the years towards the vintage Raven who’s nutsack you’re all still trying to sniff.

I believe in this group, and the tonal shift that they’ve caused in me. LEGACY doesn’t want me to stop, Robbie. LEGACY doesn’t want me to play Mr. Civility and simply speak circles around you. They want me to bare my fangs and tear a few chunks out of you, they want me to shred. Eviscerate. Disembowel.

You can picture Shawn Warstein in the corner, chewing gum like he’s Atara’s “Keep Goin’” GIF.

I tried to go into all of this with a level head, and some objectivity. LEGACY won’t allow that, they poke and they prod and they point out that I’ve been giving you too much credit. I’ve spun this entire fight into a giant storyline of you trying to avenge some perceived wrong, but knowing what an uphill battle you were in for… but you don’t actually realize it, do you? You don’t see this as some epic challenge that will define you at the end of your career.

You-

You actually think you’re going to beat me.

You think you’re going to roll over me, smash through me like a senior citizens car through a CVS storefront. You think you’re going to expose me as some sort of false Legend, and prove that you always had the drop on me.

I’m not gonna lie… I’m a little heated… a little hot under the collar…

[color=#FF0000]SHAWN WARSTEIN: Keep goin’.


One man's dream match is another man's trash, Bourbon. I’m doing this shit as a favor to you, and you don’t even have the decency to acknowledge the horrific mistake you’ve made. Hell, you doubled down! A fucking Street Fight, Robbie? What’s the matter, you didn’t have faith that you could actually pin me like you’ve always maintained you could? You think that just because I’m the greatest technical wrestler you’ve ever had the good fortune to share a ring with, I can’t beat your bitch ass in some sort of straight up brawl?

SHAWN WARSTEIN: Keep goin’.

I will fuck your world up, Robbie, like I’m John Bihl and you’re Chris Chaos. I’m not saying I will beat you. There’s no flash pinfall or submission coming your way. I will maul you like the bear from the fucking Revenant. You want a street fight, Robbie? You got one. I will snap bones without hesitation, I will fracture ribs with glee and listen to the rhythmic gasps as I squeeze every breath from your body.

NOAH JACKSON: Oi! He’s a fat cunt! It might be tough to get through the blubber!

I’ll find a way, even if I have to bend you over the fan barricade and break a sledgehammer across your back to do it. You think you’re walking out of Relentless with some sort of vengeance? You’re not walking out of Relentless at all. I know you think you had an idea of who you were challenging, after all the last XWF saw me I was a very different man… too nice, too quiet, too willing to sit on the backburner and watch everyone else around him do what they wanted while he waited for someone to say his name.

You thought you were getting the cliche. You thought you were going to get the unmotivated and flaky veteran, holding on longer than he should in a company that had passed him by and didn’t want him anymore.

Sorry to burst your bubble.

I have LEGACY now, and above all else…

I believe in LEGACY.




Noah Jackson sits alone in a small, dimly lit room. A laptop is open on the counter in front of him, his eyes sunken deep as he hammers away at the keys. It looks like he hasn’t slept in days, maybe he hasn’t.

NOAH JACKSON: Gotta finish! Gotta finish!

He continues to type as the door to the room opens slowly, and Noahs dad steps inside. Shawn Warstein makes his way over to Noah, looking over his shoulder.

SHAWN WARSTEIN: What are you doing?

NOAH JACKSON: Raven paid me $49.99 to write some short story about him. Crazy right?

SHAWN WARSTEIN: What the hell is it for?

NOAH JACKSON: No idea. Something sick, probably.

Shawn watches as Noah continues to type.

SHAWN WARSTEIN: Are you almost finished? You need to sleep, we have an early day tomorrow.

NOAH JACKSON: Yeah, but I have to write one for Theo Pryce too.

SHAWN WARSTEIN: Why are you talking to Theo Pryce?

NOAH JACKSON: To make $50.

Shawn nods his head. That’s solid reasoning.

SHAWN WARSTEIN: OK, don’t stay up too late though.

NOAH JACKSON: I won’t. Goodnight cunt!

SHAWN WARSTEIN: Goodnight, cunt.

Shawn exits the room, slowly shutting the door behind him.


FADE

TO

BLACK


The People’s G.O.A.T.
120-24-3

3x Universal Champion, 3x World Champion, 9x Xtreme Champion, 1x Hart Champion, 2x Phoenix Champion, 1x Women’s Champion (lol), 1x Federweight Champion, 1x Heavymetalweight Champion, 5x Tag Team Champion
(w/ Aidan Collins, Roxy Nova, Mia Sanchez, Big Shank, Drew Archyle/Robert Main)

XWF Hall of Legends
#4 on XWFs “Top 50” List
2009 Rookie of the Year
2009 Face of the Year
2010 Heel of the Year
8x Star of the Month
2x Star of the Year (2009/‘10)
2x Feud of the Year (2010/‘11 w/ Big Shank)
2017 High Stakes Winner
Former Owner
Lots of other random shit
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(09-22-2020), Dick Powers (09-19-2020), Ned Kaye (09-20-2020), Peter Fn Gilmour (09-20-2020), Robert "The Omega" Main (09-20-2020), Shawn Warstein (09-20-2020), Theo Pryce (09-20-2020), Thunder Knuckles™ (09-20-2020), Unknown Soldier (09-20-2020)




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