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X-treme Wrestling Federation » Warfare Boards » Warfare RP Board
Soft Deadline Flames From The Wick
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Thrax Offline
Registered but either hasn't added self to a roster yet or doesn't RP



XWF FanBase:
Drug addicts, rebels, weirdos

(the villain you love to hate; has cult following; may deal drugs on side)


#1
06-29-2021, 11:01 PM




We open with a close up shot of a candle burning. The flames from the wick dance alone amidst a sea of darkness. An ever present melody harmonizes in the background as a harrowed voice ripples over top of the instrumental.

The flame still burns.

After all this time, after all the doubts, after all the harsh winds.

The flame still burns.

Hot wax pools inside the candle’s cradle as the flames from the wick slowly erode their own foundation. The candle’s fire flickers from side to side as the man’s voice takes on a more somber inflection.

After all this time I thought it was finally over. I thought I could finally rest, for one eternal night, in peace. I was ready to atone for my sins with blood and pay for my crimes in agony.

I thought the dark father had finally come to cut me down and take me away from the heartbreak. To take me away from the false promises and impossible dreams. My hands have been calloused and my ego bruised for decades now. I have poured my sweat, soul, and heart out inside that ring….only for it to never be enough. Not enough for my opponents, not enough for the fans, and never enough for myself.

It was only ever enough for the promoters….who always need more bodies for the meat grinder.

My record setting reign as the XWF Television champion felt like a fever dream. The world was flipped upside down. My name was in lights, emblazoned on the gold. I was THE man on Saturday Nights.

But even the sunniest Saturday will eventually end as the light of the Lord’s day comes next.

My world was flipped upside down once more when I smelled the smoke coming off my smoldering soul. I thought my Saturdays were over when I fell. In truth, they are. But I expected the abyss to take their place: yet here I am, scheduled for an appearance next Wednesday night.

They say the Lord works in mysterious ways……

But the Dark Father makes his intention so much more clear.

It looks like I’m supposed to send you down to meet him for yourself this coming Wednesday.

The camera pans out to show the silhouette of a heavyset man seated in front of a table, crouching over the candle as the flames from the wick nearly nip his bushy beard.

I thought my flame had been put out long ago. It had been doused time and time again by friend and foe alike…..but douse a candle, and you may just create an explosion you can’t contain.

The wicks from my flame may appear small. They may appear insignificant, non-threatening….but things are not always as they appear, are they, Caedus?

You know this oh so well. Too well, in fact. Your very words are not always as they appear, now isn’t that right? I’ve heard of snakeoil pastors speaking in tongues, but I’ve never heard of phoney jabornis speaking in hidden dialectics. Or perhaps they were just silent claims, maybe it was a whispered proclamation.

Despite the genius of what you said, the way you said it made you fall flat.

You looked at the world around you and used all the facts at your disposal to make an astute observation no one else in the field was able to observe. You had an ace up your sleeve, a homerun waiting to be slammed out of the park, an extra point that you just had to kick through the uprights.

You reached for that ace. You stepped up to the plate and stomped your foot on the mound. You lined up the kick and called for the snap.

You hinted at it. You winked and nudged and pussyfooted around for days about it.

But you refused to say it with your chest like a man. You refused to state your truth to the world, plainly and openly. You chose to hide behind cheap parlor tricks like a gossiping trallop.

When the first bluff came your way you folded that ace like a bitch. After you missed my next curveball you threw your bat to the ground and stomped back to the dugout. As soon as my defense jumped the snap you gave up the play and went back to the bench content to let the score stay the way it was.

A shame, really.

I think we both know you fell just one or two points short of glory in the end. I bet that extra notch in your belt, that special little feather in your hat, may have been all you needed to reach across that finish line and take what you think should have been yours. You would’ve been attuned to the situation like no one else was. You would’ve been going into the fight clear headed and confident.

But your confidence was shattered that night…..

By ME.

I called you a stupid, ignorant little manchild who couldn’t possibly be right: and you knew it was true. I told you to say what you thought with your CHEST, like a MAN. I challenged you to ditch the magic tricks and show the world just how smart you were.

I challenged you to swing for the fences and instead you ran for the hills. You came into the Leap of Faith match with a bruised confidence and a crippling self-awareness.

When I puffed my chest out just a little bit and challenged you to state more openly your suspicion, you went quiet as a mouse. It’s a real shame, truly. I’m sure everyone watching your last promo was waiting for the nail to drop. Waiting for the hammer to hit the anvil.

Leave it to ol’ Jimmers to give up on an open layup as soon as one man heckles him from the stands.

I told you that you were a worthless yesman who was brought back to the company just to suck Vinnie Lane’s cock in public and make Corey look like a top guy. I told you that you more or less had the intelligence of my dirty cum sock. How could YOU have possibly cracked a code that men like Dock couldn’t?

Your inaction speaks louder than your hour long vignettes. You’re an insecure yellow belly, but that’s evident to everyone. It’s always the scared little chihuahuas that bark the loudest and the longest.

It’s a shame that Caedus choked away his final shot at true glory. Caedus may have traveled to the moon, but he was reaching for the stars. It’s oh so unfortunate that Caedus found himself in such a state of asphyxiation: if he had only been able to get my name out of his mouth he may have just been able to walk away with the briefcase after all.

But don’t feel too bad for the ol’ bloke. In the lead-up to Wednesday night Jim Caedus has the chance to atone for his silence. Now Jim Caedus can set the record straight, and show the world he truly is a genius. He can finally answer my challenge, and tell the whole world exactly what was going through his head in those weeks leading up to Leap of Faith.

The hidden messages, the obscured clues: perhaps they can finally be paid off! Tell us all, Jim…..just precisely who did YOU believe Thrax was? And why were you so scared to tell us at the time?

If I can’t get an answer out of you by Wednesday night, Jimmy, I might just have to use enhanced interrogation techniques on you! Theo Pryce’s war buddies taught me a few neat tricks during my little stint in the burning sticks.

I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve, Jim Caedus. And once again, Jim Caedus, you’re going to see them coming: the chairs, the sledgehammers, the baseball bats….they’re going to be coming at you head on. You’re going to see them from a mile away….but you’re still not going to be ready for them. They’re going to cost you yet another match, Caedus.

Unlike you, Jimmy, I don’t toss my hidden aces by the wayside as soon as some schmuck makes me look foolish on TV. I don’t mince my words, I don’t falter when I’m questioned, and I certainly don’t turn tail like a bitch when the first curveball is thrown my way.

Those are all the marks of the coward, Jim Caedus. I have a lot of marks, lashes, and cuts across my body….but I share none of them in common with you…..but next Wednseday night, Caedus, I promise you this: we will finally bear the same marks across our flesh. I will leave the marks of the beast across your bruised body, and then, we may finally find a commonality after all….

The camera continues to zoom out to almost unimaginable proportions. All that can be seen on the screen is the tiny flames from the wick, dancing to the rhythm of the everpresent melody.

Douse my flames the best you can, Jim Caedus. They will still burn forevermore.

[Image: bFUi3wA.png]
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"Loverboy" Vinnie Lane (06-30-2021), Doctor Louis D'Ville (07-07-2021)




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