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


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Some of everyone

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


#1
11-07-2020, 09:15 PM


Asmodeus Illuminatus Air Force Base || Berlin, Germany


I didn’t want to kill him. I don’t want to kill anyone. Fact is, its either them or us and I’d much rather it be them. I didn’t choose this war. They did. It was they that attacked my Compound a year and a half ago. It was they that blew my fucking plane out of the sky. It was they that attacked my base. They slaughtered my people. They butchered my survivors. As the saying goes, all is fair in love and war and this... is fucking war. They want to slaughter my people? Two can play that game.

”Thad,” Jim interrupts my train of thought as I watch the blood trickle from the hole in Harold’s head. ”Was that necessary, mate?”

”Jim,” I say, turning my head to him. ”I can’t just be the nice guy all the time. These mother fuckers have had our backs against the wall for over a fucking year and Tritter sure as hell can’t get a solid fucking lead on them,” I pause. ”I’m going to kill every single one of these sons of bitches that I can find.”

”But this isn’t like you,” he says as I start to walk toward a group of enemy combatants on their knees in surrender to some of my men.

”Maybe it should be,” I reply as we walk.

”You’re not cold blooded, Thad, this is...”

Suddenly I stop in my tracks and grab James by the collar of his flight suit.

”THIS IS FUCKING VENGEANCE, JIM!

“This is me fighting back. This is me taking a stand against those that want us all dead,”
I inform him as I unhand his collar.

”They are the ones who changed the rules of the game, not me. They killed thousands of our men and I’ll be god damned if I don’t repay the favor.”

”Thaddeus… this is genocide,” he pleads.

I stop suddenly again. I don’t grab him this time, only sending him an ice cold stare. Jim holds his hands up in defeat. Without another word, we walk hastily to the gathering of surrendered soldiers.

”Soldiers, my name is Thaddeus Duke. I’m not here to show you mercy. I’m not here to be a nice guy and let you all live. You have a very short window of opportunity to save your own lives but I’m not a patient man.”

I motion toward my soldiers with their weapons locked and loaded, pointed toward the enemies.

”What you have before you is life or death and the choice is yours, but make it a quick one. So y’all need to ask yourself if the Ares Project is worth your very existence.

“Here’s the question: do any of you have any intentions in giving me relevant, important information about your neanderthal General and the Ares Project’s future plans?”


None.

Not a single one speaks up.

”If you don’t care, why should I?” I give a nod to my soldiers and with a ‘rat-a-tat-tat’ the enemies are cut down quickly.

”Thaddeus, I think you...”

”I’ve heard your pleas for my mercy, Jim, but they’re not getting it. They’re getting exactly what our men got and that decision is final and no longer up for discussion.”

”Right mate,” Jim concedes.

”Now relay this order, Jim. All enemy survivors are to be executed. No more talk.”

”Yes sir,” he states begrudgingly.






The Next Morning


Laying here in my bunk, my thoughts race and bounce around hitting the inner walls of my conscience like a pinball machine. From the young man I killed, to wrestling, to Liz, to Garrett, to Frankie. The morning bugle sounds, awakening my brothers and sisters from their slumber, I only now realize I haven’t slept a wink.

TILT

Killing all those Ares Project soldiers… that’s something my father would have done and I can’t help feeling I let myself down. Myself, my men and women, my family. I guess sometimes, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. I’ve predicated my entire life on trying to be what’s right, to do what’s right and I’m not the man I sometimes portray. I’m not cold blooded. My decisions yesterday were contradictory to who I am as a man.

The events of the last couple days have ripped me up. Knowing my people were butchered and I wasn’t here to protect them does something to me that I can’t quite put into words. At least none that would even approach any kind of understandable explanation. Now add to that my decision to execute the Ares Project survivors. I wonder now, if I stand by that decision but even still, I put a bullet in the skull of a man younger than I am. He now has no hope for his future. He now has no prospects of marriage or of fatherhood. He now simply ceases to exist… on my orders… by my own hands.

I haven’t even showered since the battle and there’s still blood spatter from Private Jenkins on my boots. Spending most of yesterday and so far this morning in a complete daze, I wandered off a little while ago. Unlike the Ares Project who promptly incinerated the bodies of my fallen brothers and sisters, my orders this morning were to give the fallen Ares Project soldiers a proper burial with respect and dignity. Honor. Something their leaders couldn’t be bothered with affording to my people. I just needed to be alone for a bit to reflect. Despite my orders yesterday being what they were, I’m not that guy. At least in that regard, Jimmy was right.

Kneeling in the grass by myself, I look over the journal of Harold Jenkins. A bunch of addresses scribbled in the front two or three pages, but glancing through, I notice he cared a lot about his family, mostly his mother. Several entries were addressed to her and how he missed Sunday dinners. Harold aspired to be a photo journalist when he was through with the Ares Project, with a particular interest in nature and wildlife. Scattered throughout the journal were some sketches I can only assume that he drew. They were rather good. Most were animals. Tigers, bears, deer, so on. He didn’t write of the war much, but when he did, he was heaping praise on the fighting spirit of my people while questioning the motives of his own.

Harold Jenkins and I… as it happens, we weren’t so different.

Clenched tight in my right fist is Harold’s dog tags. Opening my hand, I look down at them: PFC Harold R. Jenkins, Killeen, Texas. After staring at them for a few moments, I place them around my neck, dropping the tags down into my t-shirt. This is one set I think I’ll keep. Not as a trophy, but as a reminder. A reminder of the real cost of war. A reminder that despite our differences, these are still human beings with real thoughts and emotions, with hopes and dreams, things they fear, things they love. It’s abundantly clear to me, my calls were the wrong ones to make.

They butchered my people, there’s no denying that. Was it right though, to return the favor? Was it right of me to order their executions? Part of being a soldier, maybe even the biggest part, is knowing your cause and what you’re fighting for is righteous and just. I was neither righteous nor just in giving those orders. If I’m going to give orders like General McGovern, then I’m not different. I’m just more of the same.

”Thaddeus?” comes the call behind me from Jim.

[Image: bf1de0316a62398c0c4306bdd72ff0d8782830cb.gifv]


”You alright, mate?” he asks with a tone mirroring concern.

”I was just thinking about that kid is all,” I reply to him before returning my attention to the journal resting in my hands. Jim saunters over and sits next to me, giving himself a coughing fit in the process.

”Say his name,” he says with a raspy voice.

I pause.

”I mean it mate, say his name.”

”That’s not...”

”Say. It.”

”Harold Jenkins,” I relent, my voice shaky at best.

”Is that his journal?” he asks.

I nod.

”What did you learn about him, mate?”

In response, I look over at him and shrug my shoulders.

”Is uhhh,” I pause, clearing my throat. ”Is Illuminatus Two inbound?”

”She’ll be here momentarily, mate,” he answers. Steadfast in his resolve and undeterred by my deflection, he repeats his line of questioning. ”What did you learn about Harold Jenkins, Thaddeus?”

Before I answer him, I stand up and offer him my hand. He grips and I pull him to his feet. Jim doesn’t let go of my hand though. ”Thaddeus, what did you learn about Ares Project Private First Class Harold Jenkins?”

”That we’re not so different,” I finally reply, but still he won’t let go of my hand.

”I’ll do anything for you, you know that right?”

I only nod.

”That order you gave was pure anger and retribution,” he states. Finally, the real James Edwards has stood up. I can’t help but crack a slight smile.

”Where the hell have you been?” I ask a bit lightheartedly.

”Playing fourth fiddle to your dad, and Liz and Frankie. I’ve been here the whole time though, mate.”

After finally letting go of my hand, he and I start to walk back toward the base. Taps is playing for like the 40th time today.

”Looking at that journal mate, what did you learn about yourself?”

”That I need to be better. That I need to make better decisions.”

”You give an order like that again… bro I’m not relaying it. I shouldn’t have even relayed that one.”

”I know.”

”The one thing you have over McGovern… what makes you different than him, is your humanity. Your ability to see people as humans and not as notches to check off on some sort of kill list. You may have been able to turn a number of those men, including Harold Jenkins before you ended that possibility.”

Saying nothing in response, I pull out my cell and dial up Lincoln Tritter. As it rings, I thumb back to the front of Harold’s journal. ”Yeah Linc… I need you to find an address for me.

“Doris Jenkins….. somewhere in or around Killeen, Texas. Son named Harold.”


”Mate what are you doing?”

I ignore him for the moment.

“Yeah, text me the info as soon as you get it.” I end the call and slide my phone back into my pocket.

”You’re going to meet his mother,” he surmises on his own.

”I need to get right, Jim. I need to face the mother of the young man I shot.”

”You’re not going to find absolution by meeting her, Thad.”

”No,” I reply honesty. ”But I owe it to him to look his mother in the eye and tell her that I’m sorry for taking her son away from her.”

He nods with a slight smile and a cough. I fake fired Jim not long ago because he’d been hacking for weeks. He gave in and finally saw a doctor. Lung infection but Covid free, he says. Antibiotics and a cough suppressant. Though that suppressant doesn’t seem to be working much.

”Alright mate, I’m with you.”

We reach the mess hall, miraculously surviving virtually unscathed from both battles just as Illuminatus Two comes roaring into, then off the screen for its landing.

”Tell the Captain to adjust his flight plan to Killeen, Texas,” I order of Jim just as Tritter’s text comes through. ”And uhhh. Put him on board, Jim,” I command of the best friend in the entire world not named Corey Smith. He smiles in response. Slightly.

”What?”

”This is the Thaddeus Duke that makes people love you. Strong, but merciful. Passion and compassion. Empathy, sympathy...”

”Yeah that’s enough Jim. I’m not doing this to score points, I’m doing this because it’s the right thing to do,” I conclude as I start to head into the mess hall.

”A shower would also be the right thing to do,” he fires back quickly.

”Yeah I’m on it.”



Alias, there’s a reason I refer to myself as the real number one contender and to Chris Chaos as the number one pretender. It isn’t whining, as you call it, if its pointing out factual evidence. Chaos never earned a thing yet was named contender for… I don’t know why, exactly… I guess maybe showing up or something.

Anyway, like two days later, I beat his ass cleanly in the middle of the ring.

Those are facts and not a single soul that pulls all the booking strings around here, has even given that any thought and my friend, if you think for one second that another reign of Chris Chaos as Universal Champion in this company is somehow better than any possible outcome from this battle royal, then you’re definitely not the guy with the ‘vision’ for the future.

It’s not me feeling ‘entitled’ man. It was earned, and I don’t plan on allowing them to forget it. Would you?

I’ve seen guys just like you before. I’m not gonna sit here and say I know your real identity, I don’t and I don’t even care. Guys like you, they come swirling around like vultures in moments such as this, trying to stake their claim as the best of the best. If they win, they do whatever is in their power to run off the talent crop that had been there, busting their asses, keeping the company running only for people like you to “grow bored” and suddenly disappear in the dead of night… if you lose… ‘ah well, I tried, guess I’ll just go do something else somewhere else.’

People like you, are a fucking cancer on this industry. People like you are why good people leave it.

And your little divide and conquer strategy? Not gonna work. Corey and I are tight and if you think saying something you can’t possibly know like ‘Corey is better than you Thad’ is gonna somehow get me all worked up and set out to prove you right or wrong, you’re sadly mistaken.

Gave it the ole college try though, didn’t ya?

Witness will have you believe in… whatever is in that Jonestown kool-aid he’s drinking. I mean, no one else is buying it, but at least its entertaining to watch. He’s like the Donald Trump of these proceedings: all show, no substance.

Corey Smith will have you believe that he’ll simply eliminate himself from contention when it comes down to he and I, and god dammit Corey, I’m not about to give credence to assholes like Alias. If you see an opportunity, you better throw my ass over the top fucking rope otherwise what the fuck did we go through all that rehab for?

Asshole.

Love you though.

We’ll party after.

Marf will have you believe he’s actually talented. I’ll save you the clicks on his promos: he’s not particularly well-versed in that area. Granted, promo ability doesn’t equate to in-ring ability, but all the same, Marf is like a dead deer on the side of the highway. Mangled, grotesque, and was really no match for anyone on the highway.

Doc D’Ville will have you believe he is this unbeatable entity but I assure you, he’s beatable. Done it. Proud of it. Not particularly in a hurry to try it again, but he’s in and so am I so… I’mma have to toss his old ass over the top and he can morph into some intergalactic goo and slink his way back into the sewers, or the depths of hell, or wherever the fuck he’s from.

Barney god damn Green is coming on strong… Okay so strong is a strong word… obviously, but he’s coming at least. Barney my hat is off to you because god damn if you’re not the big ole’ engine that could but probably really shouldn’t. Unfortunately man, there’s no participation trophies for you when you come in 7th. It’s the XWF bro, you can beat the number one pretender and not even get a mention from the bookerman.

You can’t point it out though because then it’s “whining.”

James Evans will have you believe that this time, THIS TIME... this particular ‘mockery’ of a roster is ripe for the picking because his last stint here, it was also a mockery of a roster yet he couldn’t really find any success… or something like that.

I’m glad I caught your attention though, Mr. Evans. It pleases me a great deal that the best fucking star on this roster has entered your learned mind. You can say whatever you like about me James, you won’t convince me or anyone else on this roster that I’m suddenly ‘less than’ since now you’re here.

In full disclosure, I don’t care if you stay or go, but the thread of this story here is real simple that even you can follow along. I’m sure it’ll be a recurring theme. You come on in acting like a big fucking deal, realize there’s a whole lot of men and women that are better, faster, stronger, smarter than you, lose, then you’re gone again because big fucking deals can’t handle losing to those they’ve already gone on record as saying they’re ‘less than’ while still saving any shred of dignity or credibility.

Tune into High Stakes where James Evans repeats history, loses, and leaves again.

I will spend some time on Chris Page at another time but for now, I will agree with Alias on one point he made: the future of the XWF, has no Chris Page chapter. One way or a god damn other, his ass is getting bounced if I have to take myself out in order to do it.

[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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