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X-treme Wrestling Federation » Anarchy Boards » Anarchy RP Board
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Risk & Reward
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JohnCaedus
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#1
09-12-2021, 08:42 AM

...."The greater the risk, the greater the reward"....












[Image: yuioPwK.jpg]



Young Duke had received the first WarHammer shipment without incident, production having been handled by the same manufacturer John himself had personally trusted and relied upon for years. The woman in charge was more than good at her job. She was brilliant.


John replies to Thaddeus's elation.


If you’re happy, I’m happy. Meiosis. John was as happy a man as he's capable. Not to mention relieved. He'd have to remember to slide the truck driver a bonus. A happy mule is a loyal mule.


”I’m over the moon happy.”


Good. I’ll be in touch.


John ends the call and turns to the laptop on his desk, accessing his Cook Island offshore APT.


$11,006,230



He refreshes.


$511,006,230



Thaddeus'd been true to his word and John was now sitting on more than a half billion dollars. A nest egg it'd taken him a decade to accumulate and end up with just eleven million, now a half billion with a single transaction. Soon enough that number would be whittled down to somewhere around four-hundred million once all involved on his end were compensated. However, he'd never felt so....free.


As much as he wished to explore the sensation, to throw his wad around and spend, he knew every moment wasted on such trivial pursuits even in thought alone saw that $511,006,230 dwindling to zero.


Zero.


The epiphany sent a jolt through his heart, the same he'd felt throughout his life since high school during rare moments of "dicking around"; that bolt of fear, of dread, at the notion of failing. Being a lower class loser.


Because what they say is a lie. Money can buy happiness.


Money is the only thing that allows for true happiness in fact.


Now was no time to settle. He needed to brainstorm the next ace for Thaddeus, a whale John could and would exclusively focus on and see his ultimate ends accomplished much sooner than he'd ever dared dream.


But how does one top a weapon as ultimate as the WarHammer?


No. No, not a weapon....the soldier. Improve the soldier.


John wouldn't be the first to attempt it but perhaps he could approach the matter in a unique way. He'd look into it while compiling his materials later today for the lecture he had to give Monday, as Lockheed's Chief Engineer, in Los Angeles.


That could wait. For now, he had a match to prepare for; an opportunity to snag a shot at the Anarchy Championship.


He never squandered an opportunity.


Looking to someone far beyond our POV. Isn't that right my friend?


Waste not, want not.


A concept lost on my opponents in our 3-way match last Anarchy....and now....I've claimed my slot in the #1 Contender's gauntlet.


I confess, I'm elated. I stand a chance at being randomly selected first entry. ....Yes, please.


Give me Wish.


One of, if not the, most senior members on the roster and simultaneously one of the least decorated. No surprise coming from a man more familiar with loss than any among the lineup. A man somehow less coherent with speech than a gimp with a ball gag in his mouth. The borderline rapist more fond of sexually assaulting women than taking steps to improve his situation. A lost cause that cannot and will not stand in my way.


Give me LSM.


The young woman masquerading as someone she isn't; including, a contender. Not even her snatching the irrelevant Billion Dollar Championship can scrub the impression she's made clean of the stink of failure. Self sabotage. Lack of focus. An inconsistent amateur who's one true hash mark reads aka G-T. LSM is most often seen not winning matches and lying to her mother about the ones she has. With her record, she's rarely seen exactly where she should be: training, perhaps cutting her teeth in the indies. She has a hard lesson to learn, one I'll enjoy providing as I provide in turn a body for the hospital bed next to her mother's. I was cracking skulls before LSM was born....when I've cloven hers in twain she'll wish she never had been.


Give me Fury.


A tragic monument to loss. Failing in her white-collar schemes. Lewd blackmail material? Such limited scope.... At one time the power over Anarchy, now reduced to usurped. Foiled. And while I enjoyed the punishment she personally inflicted on my worthless little brother, BOB lost to Apex last Warfare. Of BOB itself: creating a glorious organization funded by a billionaire, only to hand it over willingly to another? Her hasty acquiescence makes me sick. She should've sought me out. At this very moment the Brotherhood'd be flush with every active championship in the promotion. Oswald, all of us, wealthier now than even he's ever seen. Dominant. Fat with prestige. Feared. The scent has dissipated as of late. BOB is falling not only to their nemeses but independent competitors on the roster. It won't be long before TNGB are overwhelmed having to defend two sets of championships. BOB has been hemorrhaging members and straps; even now this group of five contends for Oswald's claim. Fury likely intends to help Oswald remain champion but BOB's cause is not my own, so it won't derail my pursuit of victory. I'm afraid Jessica has no inkling what true fury is but she will soon enough should we meet.


Give me Ruby.


Former champ who so pathetically lost the belt to her elder love Centurion even while DeSantis had him so thoroughly distracted. The super hero warding over the people, protecting the consumers from tongue-in-cheek threats both foreign and domestic. Wasting her time, forfeiting her future, her spotlight, to chase a lifestyle better suited to the mysterious Guppy Parsh. Allowing gold....power....to slip through her fingers in the process. I'm not so foolish. So weak.


Still, Ruby is a warrior.


But I....am a warlord....and The BananaLime Blur will be left The BloodRed Streak.


"I was born to murder the world."


You're all next.


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