Lookin for a fed

[AC Blood]

Hey... lookin' for a fed to get into. Hopefully something that's already runnin' and stuff. Someone holler at me on AIM AC Blood xXx or email me at acblood@gmail.com or send me a PM here.

Post a sample RP from jWo soon.


Regards, Clint.

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NAME: A.C. Blood

NICKNAMES: the Broken Mould, the Original Blood Duster

HEIGHT: 6'3"

WEIGHT: 284 lbs

HOMETOWN: Bethlehem, PA

PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION: He's not your stereotypical physique for a superstar. He looks a little overweight. Buzz cut to cover up the start of baldness and goatee to help compensate for the lack of her up front. Wears a sleeveless flannel shirt with a black t-shirt to the ring. Pair of baggy knee length shorts and military style boots. Skin is pale white. Plain looks, nothing that makes him stand out from the crowd. His hair is a mousey brown colour and his eyes are green.

ENTRANCE MUSIC: "Drink, Fight, F**k" by Bloodduster

ENTRANCE DESCRIPTION: "Drink, Fight, F**k" hits the PA system and AC Blood emerges from the backstage area. His intensity is prominent as he pumps his fists by his sides to psyche himself up. Throwing his fists above his head he then makes his way down to the ring. Ignoring the fans he makes it straight down to the ring steps, storming up those and through the ropes and climbs the closest turn buckle and pounds his chest with his fist. Psyching himself up further as he talks himself up to the fans and whoever else will listen.

WRESTLING STYLE: Power based high-spot brawler

FINISHER: Blood Duster - double underhook DDT

OTHER MOVES: Full Nelsom slam, powerbomb, top rope elbow drop, 3/4 turn neckbreaker, atomic drop.

MAJOR STRENGTH: He has a high level of intensity and a great heart. What he lacks in style, natural ability and looks he makes up for with courage and stamina. Willing to do the high spots to go the extra mile.

MAJOR WEAKNESS: His courage can be confused for stupidity as it doesn't always work to his advantage.

ALIGNMENT: Heel

QUOTES: "They broke the mould when they made me. I'm an original blood duster!"

TITLE HISTORY/AWARDS WON: None

HISTORY: A.C. Blood was always pushed around as a kid. He always thought that the old saying was "nice guys finish last" was just cliche and that he could get ahead in life being nice.

He wrestled on the high school and college team. Well, fielded as an emergency coz he just let the others guys take his spot. He thought that it'd earn him respect to give others a chance.

But he never got any. Not an ounce. They tread all over him, using AC as a door mat. But not anymore.

AC Blood has grown tired of the nice-guy image and wants to take his life by the scruff of the neck and show them all that you don't NEED natural ability and looks to get ahead in this buisness. That his hard work and perseverence would pay off. That his guts would get the flory.

Its time for the Original Blood Duster to take his crown.

 

[AC Blood]

http://fwrestling.com/fwc/showthread.php?p=55700#post55700

(FADE IN: luverlee bluish/white haze of flourescene and that fried chicken sweat smell)

The gym was practically empty aside from a skin and bones geek trying his best to press 10kg above his head, the trainer issuing him some advice as to what he should do in the proximity of "Growing some balls". The other patron heaved 50kg dumbells in reps of ten, breaking into somewhat of a sweat.

He wasn't the peak of physical perfection, he had somewhat of a belly on him but he seemed to be able to get those 50kg dumbells up without too much of a struggle. He wore a sleeveless black t-shirt which read "the Original Blood Duster" written in a blood red font, which had little drips running down the front of the shirt. His baggy black shorts and military styled boots looked out of place in a place where skin tight was the G-O.

Finally, as the camera swooped closer toward him he noticed the crew and put down the weights. He snatched up a towel and mopped at his brow as he prepared to speak to the crew.

"I bet you're lookin' at me and thinkin' 'what the Hell has a schlub like this got to do with Jenkin's World Order? Why would the jWo be filmin' this jellatinous Flubber stunt double?' And to your thoughts I say f*ck you and the horse you rode in on. ES.PESH.SHUL.LEE the horse you rode in on," said the man.

He leant down and snatched up a bottle of grape flavoured sports drink (not wanting to promote the fat cats ya see =>;P ) and after downing a quarter of it he tossed it down along with his towel.

"You're lookin' at me thinkin' 'wrestlers don't look like that. They look like pin-up boys for girls magazines. Not pin-up boys for Beer Drinkers Weekly'. I may not have..." he dropped the ol' finger quotation marks "...''look'' some of you are used to. I may not have that chiselled physique but what I don't have make up for with this..."

The man prodded his chest where his heart might be, obviously referring to it.

"I make up for with heart. With courage. With a big hairy set of these..."

He grabbed at his crotch and nodded without any remorse for making the viewer stare at his crotch. Bastard.

"My name is AC Blood. I'm the Original Blood Duster. I'm the Broken Mould. I'm everythin' they say you shouldn't be too make it far in this biz and I'm a little more of it. I'm the guy they use as a step ladder to push those pretty faces. I'm the squash to put over them chumps. Well, least that's what they ALL thought.

"The Jenkin's World Order is gunna have its eyes pulled wide open and stapled to its forehead so I can show all of you that I'm a new breed of superstar. I'm the guy that does whatever it takes to get whatever it takes. I'm the dude that says 'yes' when the others say 'no' and does what what needs to be done... to get the job done."

The camera zoomed in on his face as he pointed to one of his eyes. The one on the left for those of you keeping score at home.

"I got my eye on the prize. I'm gonna show the jWo, no... the WORLD a whole new breed of superstar. Show you all they broke the mould when they made me. You wait and see. Line 'em up and I'll knock 'em down. Just watch me."

The camera panned out again as AC Blood nodded with an intensity that could be felt beyond the lens of a television camera.

"Just. Watch. Me!"

Fade... to... black...