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MASS TRANSIT - Main Event - Ivan Dalkichev (c) v. The Second Coming

brusch

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MAIN EVENT
RED CROWN CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH
Roleplaying thread for Ivan Dalkichev (c) v. The Second Coming

NO WORD LIMIT
No stacking allowed whatsoever

Roleplay deadline is Tuesday, June 23 at 11:59pm Central time


 

brusch

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Straw sent this to me in a PM this morning, so below is his first RP for the match:

---

(CUE UP: “Dies Irae”.)

(The scene opens in the regular setting of the Crimson Corporation’s highrise training facility. The spacious room looks a bit more open and vacant than usual, lit beneath only a stark few rows of fluorescent lights. Looming in the dark just beyond the light, we can spy a TITANIC SHADOW. It rumbles like a mountain as it speaks with a slight Eastern European accent.)

”The Last Titan” Ivan Dalkichev
I feel it is no longer necessary in having someone speak for me...

So let’s bring everything out into the open, yes?

(“The Last Titan” IVAN DALKICHEV takes two steps forward, entering the row of the light and casting an epically long shadow across the red emblazoned “CC” insignia across the floor.)

”The Last Titan” Ivan Dalkichev
Mister Fear came to Red Line Wrestling looking for opportunity and publicity...

I came looking for the only thing I’ve ever been interested in finding -- a worthy opponent.

It may have been his plan to use this federation as a step up to something greater… but he forgets that a Russian does not walk away so easily…

Especially when there is work to be done… and you, kroshka... you will be my finest work yet here in Red Line!

(Dalkichev, clad in ruby red XXXL trainers, unslings the Red Crown Championship from his shoulder and holds it out in front of him. His face studies the face for a long and unsettlingly quiet moment… then his cold Siberian blue eyes find the camera.)

”The Last Titan” Ivan Dalkichev
With this title in my hands… what do you see me as, kroshka? Champion? Or imitator?

To be either would only seem to benefit your cause. As a champion, I am something to be beaten… a test to your greatness. As an imitator, I am something to be usurped… to restore a sense of prestige within the federation’s ranks.

But as I said once before… I have no need for crowns. I am more than king or god… I am a TITAN. And at Mass Transit, after the formalities... with the ringing of the bell…

(He sets the strap to the side… on a bench in the shadow.)

”The Last Titan” Ivan Dalkichev
There will be no belts… no titles… no material things by which to be defined…

(He sizes up over the camera, looking down on us with cruel and indifferent intent.)

”The Last Titan” Ivan Dalkichev
Only the monster you see before you…

The monster coming to BREAK YOU, kroshka...

I am not something you can ever imagine beating. I am something you can only hope to survive.

You are skilled, yes… and cunning, I will admit. But these qualities will not save you from what happens when we are in that ring. As an expert in Sambo, I am confident that we are at an equal level of skill. Only I’m much bigger. And much STRONGER.

And, as I personally demonstrated back at Slamtrack 10, I can be quite cunning as well. Not even Mister Fear saw it coming. But while he has wasted these past months keeping me tucked away behind the scenes while spewing nonsense to the cameras, I was watching you, kroshka... studying your every in and out… every strength and every fault.

And I saw much...

You have a terrible anger, do you know? Though you do your best to hide it. But every now and then, I could see it peek through. And I could see the moments when rage made you blind, and you made mistakes.

History has proven that your rage is a burden, kroshka. It nearly cost you against the Koala, who was only playing games. But it will cost you much more against me… because my rage is something else...

(Clenches his MASSIVE, quaking hands…)

”The Last Titan” Ivan Dalkichev
My rage is a WEAPON!

And you have found yourself in the crosshairs of that weapon… doubting my greatness… predicting my fall as “INEVITABLE”!

(Dalkichev SPITS angrily…)

”The Last Titan” Ivan Dalkichev
Foolish child… who are YOU to speak to the LAST TITAN on what is “INEVITABLE”?

The only thing that will be inevitable is that you WILL - FEEL - PAIN… and it will haunt you forever.

(The First Tsar of Red Line takes a couple steps back, out of the light once again…)

”The Last Titan” Ivan Dalkichev
You will be a fitting reminder to this federation of what happens to those who defy my superiority…

And after I’ve BROKEN you, kroshka... after I’ve silenced your arrogance… there will be FURTHER reminders…

Za bazár otvétish, puny child…

(Fade to RED!!)
 
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Inevitable

(FADEIN, black and white, on the Second Coming. The video quality is questionable, but clear. She's sitting in a chair, wearing a black hooded sweatshirt with the hood over her head, baggy combat pants, and combat boots. Her legs are crossed: her booted ankle is resting on her knee.


She isn't wearing a facemask, but her face (other than her mouth, in profile) is obscured.


Somewhere off camera, a muted voice (we can make out the words, but we can't make out if they're old, young, male, female, anything) asks a question.)


"If Ivan Dalkichev was here right now, what would you say to him?"


(The Second Coming laughed.)


2C: "I'd tell him I was sorry."


"Sorry for what?"


2C: "For his misunderstanding. He assumed that my conversation with Stephen Waltz about inevitability was over the fact that I'm going to win the Red Crown at Mass Transit. Because that's not a foregone conclusion."


(Silence.)


"You don't think you'll win?"


2C: "No, I think I'll win. I hope I'll win. I expect to win, because I have confidence in myself. But that's not the inevitability. Ivan has the size and strength and the ability to physically hold that title as long as he wants."


(She laughed again. )


2C: "No, the inevitability is that Ivan is not the man to lead this company."


2C: "Because he has no passion."


(She waited for the interviewer to regain composure.)


2C: "Is that too much? I don't think it's enough. Look at Ivan's rhetoric. He talks about his skills. He talks about the Championship being secondary to finding a warrior to match his skill against. Since, you know, as his top contender that may or may not be me. But how did he win his title?"


2C: "He pinned some dude who hasn't been seen since. They got there by winning a tag match when my partner took a dive. Since then, he's wrestled a pepper and lost to Eric Dane."


"Does that make him less of a Champion?"


2C: "Of a Champion? No. But it goes to show that Ivan views the Red Line as just somewhere to be a wrestler. He has no passion for this company, its Championship, or its fans. While his former associate was ranting and raving about how he should go somewhere else, I was tearing down the house, as well as Kid Koala, in a knock-down drag-out."


2C: "I live and breathe the Red Line. I put this company - not my ego, not my 'warrior's spirit,' not my wallet - first."


2C: "What's truly inevitable... is that this company is mine. These fans are my people... they support me, and I fight for them."


2C: "Do you, Ivan?"


2C: "My rage - like yours - is a weapon, Ivan. My rage saw me through Koala, Waltz, and all the rest. My rage is a tool to be used for the betterment of this company. Yours?"


2C: "Eric Dane took your weapon and smacked you across the face with it."


2C: "You wanna say something like history proving that my rage is a burden, you'd better have something to back it up with besides your own voice. You have the size, the talent, and the experience, Ivan."


2C: "And the dead, vacant eyes."


"Any other thoughts at the moment?"


(The Second Coming laughs.)


2C: "Who am I to speak to the Last Titan as I do?"


2C: "I'm the Second Coming."


2C: "At Mass Transit, you'll understand why."


(FADE)
 

RStrawsma

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Powerless

(CUE UP: Bach’s “Prelude and Fugue in C Minor”.)

(The scene opens in the same location as Promo Number One… Nathan Fear’s private art gallery in the Crimson Corporation’s high-rise office suite-slash-training center. The founder and president of Crimson Corporation himself appears pacing before the camera with a phone pressed to his ear, though gone is the smug and indignant expression in MR. NATHAN FEAR’S face. We can see creases of worry wracking his forehead as he continues a conversation with the person on the other end…)

Nathan Fear
Yes… I realize it’s a problem… and it’s not like I asked for this to happen. But he won’t budge… he insists we finish our business here in Chicago… and without him, there IS no Crimson Corporation, as we know it!

(As he pauses for a moment to listen to the response, a dark twinkle flashes in his eye.)

Nathan Fear
...interesting… hadn’t thought of that before. Maybe you’re onto something… maybe we can turn this back toward our advantage.

In any case, it looks like I’ll be stuck here in the Midwest for a little while longer… at least until this “Mass Transit” ordeal finally passes. We can talk more about it when I get back to Seattle. Just keep up your end of the deal… I WANT that building!

(He ends the call, redirecting his attention to the left. The camera follows him as he walks over to the blow-up Goya print suspended in the middle of the room. Hulking before it is the First Tsar of Red Line Wrestling and Red Crown Champion, “THE LAST TITAN” IVAN DALKICHEV, his cold eyes transfixed on the image of wide-eyed Saturn avidly cannibalizing a child’s body in striking detail.)

(Fear spies the Red Crown Championship slung over the Atlas-sized athlete’s broad shoulder, and grits his teeth with envy.)

Nathan Fear
I seriously hope that cheap strap will be worth all the trouble when all's said and done…

(No response in Ivan, continuing to study Goya’s masterpiece.)

Nathan Fear
All I’m saying is… we could be on a plane right now, flying to a city with a sold-out arena and a mile-long line of people waiting to get in. Instead, we’re wasting precious time stuck in this third-rate league, all so you can snap some stupid girl like a twig over your knee and wear a gaudy crown.

Explain to me again, what do we have to gain from this? Do you think the world will give a damn watching a four-hundred pound mountain of a man completely steamroll a woman less than half his size?

(Ivan, still facing the print, breaths in deep like mighty Vesuvius drawing in a breath.)

“The Last Titan” Ivan Dalkichev
You look with your eyes… and believe what you see is true. But there’s more to it than just that, yes? More beneath the surface.

You look with your eyes and see a meaningless woman. But I listen with my ears… and hear the voice of a defiant usurper.

What is there to gain, you ask?

Satisfaction, Mister Fear. The satisfaction of silencing my doubters… humbling those who refused to show fear… and BREAKING any that should stand in the path of “The Last Titan”...

(Fear shakes his head in surrender.)

Nathan Fear
Sounds crazy if you ask me. You’re stomping on insects to silence a few pointless chirps.

But, do as you will… Crimson Corporation is at your whim, I’m loathed to admit. But I can at least rest easy knowing that it’s all but certain you’ll take care of business at Mass Transit. More than I could say for Stephen, unfortunately…

(The Red Crown champ scoffs.)

“The Last Titan” Ivan Dalkichev
You speak of wasting time in Red Line… yet time is all you waste, using that man as a dog. The attacks… the secret opponent game… all distractions. All failures.

I never asked, nor needed, your meddlesome interventions in order to “take care of business”, as you say. All that was ever required… was a bit of time.

(He swivels his head over and gazes down at the disgraced manager.)

“The Last Titan” Ivan Dalkichev
And the time is nearly upon us...

(Dalkichev slowly turns toward the camera, giving Fear a dismissive wave. Fear immediately flashes the same envious glower he gave the Red Crown Title earlier, clearly miffed at having his spokesperson duties retired. He eventually departs while muttering under his breath, leaving us with the seven-foot monster looking down on us and the equally ghastly painting behind him.)

“The Last Titan” Ivan Dalkichev
Even after ten years of American citizenship… it seems I still have trouble understanding the many twists and turns of the English language.

And yet, perhaps that has more to do with most Americans abuse of that language. I would hear one word, and presume it means what it means… and then later, I am told that I misunderstood that word.

For example, I presumed the word “inevitability” referred to a foregone conclusion… an unavoidable outcome. But you, kroshka... you seem to believe the word “inevitability” refers to a realization… a state of mind. One that boldly states that one to lead Red Line Wrestling is not me… but you.

(The Crimson Colossus lets out an eerie rumble as he slowly shakes his head.)

“The Last Titan” Ivan Dalkichev
There is a term for cattle droppings that has another meaning as well… and I feel it fits your definition perfectly.

The misunderstanding seems to be on your part, kroshka... because while you have wasted your air speaking on trivial matters of passion and who beat who, it does not seem to have occurred to you that I never once claimed I was here to lead this company.

If anything, I am here to conquer it.

(He shifts his gaze briefly to the Red Crown Title over his shoulder, absently running his huge, sausage-sized fingers over the R - L - W engraving.)

“The Last Titan” Ivan Dalkichev
You say I have no passion… but perhaps you simply don’t understand it as I do. Perhaps it is something that can only be understood after thirteen years in this business… and many years before that, growing up in that decaying pisshole back east.

You say you live and breathe these three letters… an admirable claim, yes. One that rallies the people wearing those letters on their shirts and hats to your side.

An empty one, all the same. The fans will not help you in that ring, kroshka. Neither will those three letters.

There was a time long ago when I would have said I lived and breathed for another set of three letters. But over the years, companies closed their doors, and those letters kept changing… until eventually, they lost all meaning. I have seen many federations be born, live, and die in my career… and have watched many idealist and simple-minded heroes such as yourself rise and fall. The harsh lessons of time have taught me that federations come and federations go. This is yet another inevitability.

The reason I see Red Line Wrestling as “just a place to wrestle” is because that is exactly what it is. That is what every federation has ever been.

There will inevitably come a time when, yes, even Red Line will wither and die. Whether it is at Mass Transit, or many years from now… it is bound to happen. And when it does, everything that anybody knew of the tragic fate of “The Second Coming” will just be yet another fading memory. Perhaps this is all for the better…

But I will not fade, kroshka. Like any kaiju, my nature is the same as it ever was: move on to the next city… the next destination… and lay waste to everything.

(The curl in his lower lip could be an evil grin… or then again, he could be pushing something caught in his teeth with his tongue. We can’t exactly be certain he wasn’t snacking on the same thing as Saturn glaring over his shoulder.)

“The Last Titan” Ivan Dalkichev
Ultimately, though… this isn’t about who will be remembered and who will be forgotten. This is not even about passion, or who is fit to lead the company. Regardless of whether or not you think I am fit for the role, you seem to be forgetting that you cannot do anything about it. Because while you live and breathe for three letters, I live and breathe only to dominate. And the difference between how we define our passions is that mine actually applies to what will happen on that canvas.

You will never see the change you wish to bring to Red Line, kroshka… because you lack the ability to make it so. I excel you in all the important categories… strength, skill, experience… and as I have demonstrated many times with the likes of Miss Spectacular and Mister Spackler, and most recently at Slamtrack 10, this company knows well by now the extent of my destructive rage.

But perhaps most important of all advantages, there is my preparation… physically and mentally. Because ever since the night I won this title, I have spent every day putting all of my focus and preparation toward this match... this next battle.

(He gazes down briefly into his quaking palms.)

“The Last Titan” Ivan Dalkichev
Whether it was all the days put into building myself into a seven-foot tall living machine of destruction, or all the hours I sat and watched your matches… your speeches… every moment I lived and breathed since Rush Hour has been dedicated to the domination and demise of the number one contender to my title.

You pride yourself on spending that time “tearing it up” with a buffoon in a koala mask… but from my perspective, you have only foolishly indulged in distractions. Small, hollow victories to give you a sense of pride. Empty victories that put a heavy toll on your body…

All for the sake of crowing over three interchangeable letters.

And my own pointless meanderings with El Habanero and Eric Dane… simply the fulfillment of contract obligations. But otherwise, diversions… because even when I was in the ring on those occasions, my mind was was still on the match that waited at the end… the true inevitability.

Perhaps that would explain my shortcoming against Dane. Perhaps my mind wasn’t focused enough on looking strong against an aging wrestling legend looking for another fifteen minutes of fame. Perhaps I didn’t care enough, because I didn’t feel a TSAR should be treated like the company welcome mat in an effort to draw ratings and make money.

Perhaps I was too busy looking ahead… looking toward the opportunity to make a real statement by crushing this federation’s poster-child beneath my massive feet.

Or, who knows... perhaps it had something to do with that very person unexpectedly being there at ringside at a very pivotal moment.

(Massive shoulders shrug. His muscles ripple like tiny avalanches across a fleshy mountain range.)

“The Last Titan” Ivan Dalkichev
It makes no difference how it happened… I don’t dwell on the outcomes of matches that had no meaning to begin with. A day will come when I will even the score with Dane… but for now, my mind only dwells on the match that matters… the one that awaits us at Mass Transit.

More than simply champion versus contender… but my first true opportunity to remind this company of just who carries the title, and what I am fully capable of. I will overpower you in that ring, as I have overpowered all of Red Line Wrestling since my first day. And those fans… those people you claim to live and breathe for… like you, they will understand the true meaning of futility and heartbreak.

It matters not if you think I am the man to stand at the top of this company... Red Line will ALWAYS quiver beneath the shadow of “The Last Titan”, until somebody comes around who is strong enough to stop me. And you are not that person, kroshka. Simply naming yourself such and backing up that claim by pointing to empty accomplishments does not make it so.

(He unslings the belt from his shoulder, and holds it before the camera. His massive hands tremble and knuckles turn white as his fingers dig into the metal and gold. Over the plate, we can see his blue eyes narrowing into daggers of hate and destruction… and his voice becomes an angry growl.)

“The Last Titan” Ivan Dalkichev
Only true STRENGTH and POWER will take this title from my hands can… you have done and said nothing to convince me you are anything but powerless.

What is “The Second Coming”?

From what I’ve seen, nothing more than second in line.

And ALL who stand in that line, will be broken.

Do svidaniya in advance, little kroshka. I will not miss you...

(Fade to RED!!)
 
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Real Power

(FADEIN: Darkness. A quick burst of static cut through, and The Second Coming's face filled the screen. She wore a plain black facemask, but had foregone the hood. Her black hair framed her face, and we could see her from the shoulders up - she wore a black tank top of some kind.)

The Second Coming: It took me far too long, Ivan - but I figured it out. This whole thing that we're doing? It's meaningless.

(She shrugged.)

2C: We could go back and forth until Mass Transit and beyond, trying to convince each other that we're each the best wrestler in this company, but it doesn't matter. You'll never convince me - and as Champion, you don't have to.

You have the belt - in a real sense, you have nothing to prove.

(The Second Coming shook her head.)

2C: But on the other side, it is impossible to prove anything to you before this match happens.

(She changes her inflection, to do a poor - but recognizable - impression of Ivan.)

2C: "What have you done?"

(And returned to her normal inflection.)

2C: I've never had my shoulders pinned in the Red Line.

2C: "Yes, but what have you done?"

2C: I've fought off multiple opponents and held my own.

2C: "Yes, but what have you done?"

2C: I won the top contendership in a triangle match, and shredded Kid Koala in a no holds barred fight.

2C: "Yes... but what have you done?"

(She locked a thousand - yard stare on the camera, and rolled her eyes.)

2C: The problem is that the only thing that'll impress Ivan is defeating Ivan. Maybe. Maybe I'll defeat you, Ivan - and you'll tell me about how it was a fluke. It was a misstep. It was something unexpected and unorthodox, and if you weren't so distracted by your problems with your management, it would've never happened.

(The camera pulled back a bit, to show her bare arms folded over her chest.)

2C: Fortunately, Ivan... I don't need to convince you that this company is mine. I just need to convince them.

(A sharp pull back combined with a loud cheer and a chant of 'RED LINE WRESTLE! RED LINE WRESTLE!' There were a large number of RLW fans behind the Second Coming, whose presence was obscured by their silence and creative zooming/focusing.)

(She let them chant for several second before holding up a fist - and the fans quieted down.)

2C: This is Red Line Wrestling, Ivan. Not the letters. Not the corporate offices. You talked about how you used to believe in one wrestling company or another, then they shut down and you got cynical and are now just basically looking for a paycheck?

(She shook her head, disapprovingly.)

2C: A wrestling company isn't the office, or the executives, Ivan. It's the people. These are the people I'm proud to represent.

(The fans started to cheer again, with a good number chanting "SE-COND-CO-MING" complete with appropriate claps. She let them chant for several seconds, before holding her hand up again to silence them.)

2C: You're right, Ivan - there will come a day that this company will close its doors. Maybe it'll be tomorrow, or next year, or in a hundred years... but it is inevitable.

But that doesn't mean a thing about what this company means. There's wrestlers out there who still rep the CSWA, or the FWO, or Old School Wrestling or PRIME - because they appreciated what those fans gave them.

These guys behind me are Red Line Wrestling.

(They cheered again at that, but they had the sense to know when to stop.)

2C: I'm Red Line Wrestling.

(More cheers.)

2C: You, Ivan... are not. You're just passing through, remember? By your own admission, remember?

(The fans booed, complete with an "IVAN SUCKS" chant. She let it go for several seconds longer than their chant for her before she cut them off.)

2C: This is why you're destined to lose, Ivan. Whether I leave Mass Transit with the Red Crown or not is immaterial: you're not going to lose, you've already lost.

Because I'm not coming to Mass Transit alone: I'm coming with all of Red Line Wrestling behind me.

(The fans all cheered again.)

2C: BUT...

(She held up her hand again, and the fans quieted.)

2C: But, Ivan... whoever owns this company is only half the story. The fact remains, you're over a foot taller than I am, and you weigh more than twice as much. And you admit to at least thirteen years' experience, which is twelve more than I have. It's entirely possible that you're right when you say that you're going to dominate this match, and there's nothing I can do about it.

(Her head bowed a bit, although she kept her eyes on the camera. The lower half of her face was covered by her mask, but you had the sense that she was smirking.)

2C: Then again... maybe it's out of your hands.

(Silence. She stared down the camera with a look... the phrase 'if looks could kill' was invented for this look. And we held the look for an uncomfortably long time. Fade.)
 

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