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RP #1 For Match –
Family Reunion
[RP IN] [PROMO - UNDENIABLE WORDS] I consider myself a fairly tolerant man, ladies and gentlemen. As far as this cut-throat industry goes, anyway. In a world where people try to beat each other to a bloody pulp at the drop of a hat, where careers can be ended over something as simple as a love triangle, where some can try to kill others because they want their success, I dare say I'm probably one of the most tolerant. I don't go out looking for a fight- outside of competition, anyway- and I've been prepared to forgive and turn the cheek a lot. If somebody tries to taunt me into losing my cool, I ignore it and keep walking- or I hold my ground and calmly resolve the situation. Some have mistaken my patience for weakness- a very dire mistake to make. I may have a lot of flaws, but one thing is certain- I have to be pushed pretty far to throw the gloves off. But ladies and gentlemen, there's a certain point where a man has to say 'enough is enough'. There's only so much being pushed around a man can take, only so much harassment he can tolerate. It does take a lot to push me over the line- but James Raven managed to do it. I've got to admit, I think I treated his accusations more kindly than most would- most people would have flipped the bird, and some might have even walked from our fearless leader treating them the way he's treated me, and I think I went far above and beyond the cause to try to reason with him, but it's apparent that not a single word is going through his rock-hard cranium, and it's also apparent that he refuses to let things go. So I'm backed into a corner, it would seem- and backing me into a corner is a bad idea- no matter how much 'power' you claim to wield. And that's the topic I'm going to start with- power. Ultimately, you want to test a man's character, you give him some power- the more the better- and you wait and see what happens. Power's the ultimate definer of men. It's turned equality activists into despots who wreck their entire country, it's turned people who want a free world for everybody into totalitarians, it's turned people who believe they're on a mission from God into people who believe they are God. Robert Mugabe in the first case, the Soviet Union in the second, David Koresh in the third. If a man can stick to his guns when he's given power and not compromise who he is and what he believes in, then that's proof of the strength of his character. Some people might have guessed where I'm going with this- and no, you're wrong. I'm not about to conclude that James Raven's gone utterly corrupt, drunk on his own power. No, not at all. It hasn't come to that yet. But I do see the warning signs there, and I'm concerned that if he doesn't have a good hard look at himself- or if somebody doesn't straighten him out- there's definitely the potential for him to go off his rocker. This match in itself is at least a side product of that, after all- supposedly my very being here in the XWF undermines James' 'authority'. Make of that what you will. Some people call themselves authoritarians, some call them anti-authoritarians. Some will blindly obey law and order even if it's wrong, some will challenge it even if it's right. Me, I'm somewhere in between. I've sided with law and order- in this case, ownership- in the past, and I've gone against it when I honestly believe it's wrong. Hell, in the last month I've gone from arguing with Brian Cady over his rage against the system, to telling James Raven he has no real hold over me. That's because in one case our esteemed leader was in the right, and in another, he was dead wrong. And make no mistake, what I intend to do here, both right now and at Snow Job, is to show 'the boss' the error of his ways. He won't listen to reason, so unfortunately we have to do this the hard way. And so, the gloves are off- both in terms of the match, and in terms of how I intend to address old Jimbo. So we all know James Raven's big beef in all of this. God knows we've heard it ad nauseum so many times that I think it's ingrained in the back of our skulls. James has a serious bee in his bonnet because apparently I forgot to mention his name when listing former World Champions. Yeah, I know, talk about a storm in a teacup. It gets worse though- he then starts ranting about me hijacking 'his' show, stealing 'his' title belts, and then links it to a dismal performance on my part back when I was with the Prophecy- and then he turns it into some grandiose conspiracy theory about me using the Prophecy to launch myself back into fame. Wait a minute, what? I'm trying to get my name back in the spotlight? That's pretty funny coming from the man who pissed all over the unwritten 'no-compete' rule regarding ownership. It's been pretty much an unwritten rule that XWF owners are to take a back seat to the actual wrestlers- and yet we're still seeing James in the ring week in and week out. Hell, the man even put himself in the running for Snow Job voting! Let me ask you this, James- how in the hell can you accuse me of milking the old Steve Jason reunion tour for all it's worth with all of that to your name? You can't! Not without making yourself look like a complete and utter hypocrite. Didn't think I'd throw that back, did you? Rule number one when getting on your high horse regarding me- make damn sure you don't have any ammunition I can throw back at you. Because if I do, by God I will make you look like the biggest idiot in the village, by far. You just learned that lesson the hard way, 'boss'.
By that logic I shouldn't even have to defend myself against such accusations, but you know something, I will. The way James painted my unsuccessful last run made it seem as if I intended to just use the Prophecy to make a little money and fame, then ditch 'em. What I want to know is why James decided to just pull this out of his arse rather than, I don't know, go over to the payroll department and get them to pull up my payment history? Trust me, I don't need any more money. I don't even know what to do with what I've currently got, and I'm not in the game for the money. As for fame... er, James, I hate to burst your bubble, but I've already got plenty of it. Nobody forgot about me. People were talking about me long before I joined you guys. I didn't need you guys, given I could pretty much roll up by myself and get the same attention. I did it because I saw you guys as the future and wanted to help. That, and my friend Centurion put in a good word for you. Yeah, you know, Centurion? Your team-mate, stable-mate and friend who you bagged out on national television for leaving to be in a family emergency? How in God's name can you accuse me of using and abandoning anybody with that on your conscience, James? DATE/TIME: 3:30 PM,
Thursday January 28, 2010 [CAST]
Perhaps the best way of describing the current situation was simply to state that Steve Jason was nervous.
That alone said a lot. Steve wasn't precisely what you would call a man prone to the jitters. Ten years of combat sportsmanship- which alone had seen him face down some absolutely nerve-wracking situations that could shake a man to his foundations-, doubled with some adrenaline-packed side-adventures had made him more or less hardened to most situations that would have people uneasy or tense. It was perhaps this that explained Steve's implacable calm inside the ring during his wrestling tenures. What in the world could have shaken this man to the point where he was a little light-headed, there were butterflies in his stomach and he was breathing a little faster than he should have been?
"Chillax. You're just meeting your kids, SJ..." Douglas... now Sir Douglas Henry Phidippidies McNamara III... boomed out over the low roar of the van engine, after which he directly pointed his head out the side window of the driver's seat to scream, "GET OFF MY ROAD, YOU WANKER!"
They were speeding down a hill- well over the speed limit- in downtown San Francisco, California, where Dougy had just screeched into a mighty swerve along the road, narrowly missing a trolleycar, which proceeded to blast its horn. Despite the fact it was broad daylight, and despite the fact that the busy downhill street was positively choked with vehicles, Dougy continued to hare down the street like a lunatic, decked out in his usual red baseball cap and yellow Hawaiian shirt. Steve himself sat alongside Dougy in the shotgun seat- oddly feeling more at ease with Dougy's insane driving then the looming family reunion awaiting him- dressed much more simply in a black t-shirt and jeans. The last two people in the back of the van, however, didn't appear very much at ease at all. Chloe O'Brien, Steve's confidante and right-hand woman, seemed somewhat rattled, her hazel eyes wide as they sped, glossy brown hair almost flailing backwards from the sudden lurch of acceleration. Decked out in a black cardigan, white blouse and jeans, she finished the trifecta that made up the core of Steve's infamous 'crew'.
The other person, however, was not a regular addition to the crew.
"Jesus fucking Christ, we're going to die..." muttered one Liam Johnston, clinging for dear life to the seatbelt strapping him into the back seat of the van, his green eyes alert and a worried look crossing his lightly-stubbled face. The young man was dressed somewhat more up-market than the others, decked out in a black suit jacket, silk pants and a white business shirt- although he seemed far less refined right now, in fact he seemed terrified out of his wits.
"Hey, you don't like it, you drive!" Dougy yelled.
"I can't! And by your maniacal attempts to kill us all I think I can see why!"
"Put a goddamn sock in it, you two!" Steve shouted, "And for God's sake, Dougy, slow the hell down!"
"Pansies..." Dougy muttered, but nevertheless did what he was told, cutting the speed down as they descended the hill, "How far to the safehouse?"
"Along the right once you hit the bottom of this hill," Chloe answered, "Right on the edge of the beach. Heather's going to meet us there."
"Right-o." With that having been said, Dougy continued to cruise down the bottom of the hill, curving to the right once the blue Pacific came into view, cutting off from the main streets and proceeding along the coastal flats. Soon the pristine white sands of a beach came into view, and the road began to peter out into a black gravel parking lot. With surprising skill given his previous reckless driving, Dougy swung the van into a parking place, then brought the vehicle to a halt.
"And here we are, folks! Everyone out!"
The safehouse itself was located on the very edge of the beach, raised up over pylons to protect it from incoming tides and the crash of the waves on the Pacific. It was somewhat small, but nevertheless had a somewhat cozy, almost chalet-style look to it, painted white and connected to the beach itself by a thick wooden boardwalk. As the group began making their way along the beach, the boardwalk and house gradually getting closer as they moved, Liam fell in behind Steve, speaking up abruptly.
"SJ, you look like you've seen a ghost. What's up?"
"You probably wouldn't understand..." Steve began.
"Nerves?" Liam guessed, "No shame in that, man. I'm all too familiar with them. You're about to encounter something huge and it scares the crap out of you. You're not used to being scared, so that just makes you all the more scared. Trust me, I wrote the book on this. You should have seen this crush I had once at university, it was..."
"It's not just that." Steve cut him off abruptly, "I've got a lot on my mind. This Raven thing's starting to really bother me. And Centurion. One of my friends is in serious strife with his child gone and his wife in danger, the other has lashed out at me despite my best efforts to be reasonable. And that's not even getting into Rhiannon, who now seems hellbent on ruining my life."
"Well, look at it this way. Sure, a few of your friends turned out to be duds. But that just puts things into perspective on who you want to surround yourself with. Sounds to me like you need to cut loose the dead weight, and instead let in the people who've always been there for you- without question, no matter what stupidity you may have been involved with in the past."
Steve turned to the young man, a brow raising. That had seemed almost a little too insightful from him. Running the concept through his head, he nodded.
"You have a point. Maybe it's time to focus on the people that matter. The crew... Cent... Jem and Eve... Heather..." That last name came out almost wistfully.
"Still head over heels for her, eh?" Liam smirked knowingly.
"I guess you could say that. Although damned if I know what I'm going to do. This whole Zachary and Zoe thing has me on edge as it is, and Heather and me have been through one hell of a rocky time. Either one or both of us get broken apart and end up somewhere else. Every time. I don't think either one of us knows where we're at right now."
"Well, seems to me that you have a chance to put all that right, man. You are, after all, about to meet her and the twins that you two had together. If you wanted it to be for life, forever... it could be, you know."
Steve had to laugh at that, shaking his head, "You? Advising that? Aren't you like Bachelor of the Millennium? And proud of it?"
"Oh, I'll make no bones about it, marriage and children aren't my cup of tea. Not right now in my life, anyway. I'm having too much fun. But I'm not you, man. It's clear that the woman means something to you. And you are going to be a prominent part of Zachary and Zoe's lives. Seems like this is a natural progression for you."
"I guess..." The thoughts in Steve's head were rushing almost too fast for him to decipher- the young man had seemingly unknowingly kicked his brain into motion, "I guess I'll think on it. Thanks, LJ."
"Don't mention it, SJ." Liam said in a deprecating fashion, looking up at the boardwalk extending over towards the house, "This is about as far as I go, man. You, Chloe and Dougy have more business up there than I do. Good luck, man."
"Thanks, kid." Steve grinned at the young man, who came to a stop on the very edge of the boardwalk, leaning back and pulling out an iPod Touch before zoning into space, leaving Dougy, Chloe and Steve alone to make the trek along the wooden planks- the last remaining few steps between him and his family.
"What was that all about?" Chloe asked, falling in beside Steve.
"Eh, the kid and I were talking about a few things. He had a few insights."
"Him? Are you serious?"
"Deadly. He knows a lot more than he lets on, I kind of have to wonder about him sometimes. He had some damn good points about my family life. Although my professional still baffles me."
"You still irked about having to fight this match?" Dougy asked.
"A little. But I'm becoming reconciled to it. Whether I like it or not, I'm connected with this place. Maybe it's just my destiny, you know? To remain tied to the industry until the day I die. It's strange, because all the others... Brand, Cooper, STS and the others... people were eventually able to let them go. Hell, even Jonathyn Brown is slipping further and further into the XWF's past. But me..." A dry laugh escaped as he shrugged his shoulders, "They're not letting go of me. I kind of wonder if they ever will."
"Would that be so bad?" Chloe asked.
"Probably not. It hasn't exactly been a bad life with X-Dub. Pretty much every friend I have is either in there, or they're interconnected somehow. For better or for worse, it's always going to be a big part of my life. I suppose I just don't like the idea of being at the beck and call of every superstar who can't deal with their own inadequacies. Why the fuck should I care if James Raven's pissed off that people are comparing him to me? Does it even matter in the grand scale of things? And the problem is, this ain't the first time this has happened. It seems every couple of years somebody wants to drag me out of the woodwork because they can't stand on their own two feet. It's not my problem."
"Why'd you say yes then? You could have just walked away..."
"Because odds are if I didn't, I'd be getting thrown right out that door." Steve replied with a sigh, "Whether I compete in X-Dub or not, I want to keep my ties with the organisation. I want to be able to roll up every holiday season without having to worry about the boss getting his g-string in a knot over it. I don't like him acting like he owns me, Chloe, and the only way I'm going to be able to stop it is to give him what he wants."
"I think you've just answered your own question then, Steve..." Chloe turned her gaze away from the water's surface to look Steve full in the face, "You won't- can't- walk away. It's a part of you to the point where you're basically fighting so you won't be cut off from it. For better or for worse, the XWF's a part of you. Maybe you won't be wrestling, but I don't think you'll ever extract yourself from it- because it's unthinkable to you."
"Girl has a point, Steve," Dougy added, "I mean, think about it. Could you really, honestly, see yourself leaving for good? You're already pissed at Raven trying to tell you where you can go and what you can do. The community's probably in your blood for life, man. And I reckon that's a good thing."
Steve only nodded at that as the three ascended the steps onto the porch of the safehouse, leaving the three in front of the door. Another rush of nerves seized Steve now as he simply stared at the door for several moments. Neither Dougy nor Chloe did anything, standing to one side. After a few moments, he flashed a wan smile at the two of them.
"Here goes nothing, I guess." And with that, he rapped on the door.
It seemed that the prolonged absence over the long months had only served to make Heather Halliwell more beautiful- at least in Steve's eyes, anyway. They were no strangers to each other, but even still he had to doubletake at her standing in the doorway- a moment that was reciprocated, judging by her sudden reaction, aquamarine catlike eyes flashing wide at him for several moments underneath her dark wavy hair. Her white baby-doll t-shirt and jeans covered her fit yet shapely form. Even her skin seemed to be glowing with a kind of radiance- all things considered, given the hell she'd been through, that was quite a feat.
"Heather..." he began, but almost seemed to be unable to get much more out. Whatever traces of the spokesman Steve was in front of the camera had vanished completely.
"Hello, Steve..." she replied warmly, her cheeks flushing and a small smile lighting up her features, "I was starting to wonder if you were ever going to show up."
"Heh, well, we hit a few side-tracks. Namely Dougy driving like an absolute lunatic and nearly killing us all. How that man got his license I'll never know."
"I heard that, SJ... oof! Goddammit Chloe, who lit the fuse on your tampon?!?" Dougy put a hand to his ribs, which Chloe had rather firmly elbowed in the background. If Heather had noticed what was going on, though, she didn't put on much of a show of it- instead her attention was firmly on Steve. And it was at that moment that his attention finally fell down on the two infants in her arms. One boy, one girl- and while they weren't newborn, they seemed so tiny in comparison to the tall Steve- or even the petite Heather for that matter. They lay in their mother's arms, completely content at peace with the world. After almost a year, this moment was finally here, united with son and daughter for the first time. And their mother...
All Steve could do was stand there for several moments, his head a conflicting mash of emotions. Uncertainty, nerves, even a small sense of fear of the unknown flashing through his head. At the same time, a strong sense of happiness flowed through his brain, along with the warm flood he could only recognise as a sense of love- a father's love for his son and daughter. But that wasn't all. Distinctly pulsing and coursing through his body was the sense of love for the woman in front of him- the love of his life, as it were. The advice Liam had given him suddenly seemed to make more and more sense as his ice-blue eyes locked onto her turquoise eyes for what seemed like an eternity.
Then, with a sense of purpose overriding him, he moved forwards with outstretched arms before embracing her- and at the same time, embracing his future.
[PROMO - CONTINUED]
But then again, loyalty isn't exactly your strong suit, is it? You're chasing me because of this insane obsession with people comparing you to me, you've bitched out Centurion because his personal crisis scuppered your precious plans, and hell, you aren't exactly proving all that loyal to your fiancée either. You've got Rhiannon Ramsay whoring it up around you in what's possibly the most obvious 'using sex to get what I want' play since Tyger Lilly boned the entire locker room- and what do you do? Do you do the honorable thing and say 'look, I've got a fiancée, I'm getting married, this isn't right?' No, you lap it up like a testosterone-blinded fool. Even now, when you know it's pissing Mia off, you continue. And you know something, I don't think it's even because you want any tail. I think you just like the attention of having somebody slobbering over you. Makes you feel like some kind of Don Juan. I can't hold that against you too much, I used to like that too- but then I grew up.
Well, Jimbo, I'm only going to tell you once- that woman is poison. You really think she'll keep up this facade forever? Hell no- she'll flirt you dry until you've thrown everything she wants at her, and then she'll knife you in the back. I should know, she did it to me. And if you're really a moron about it, you won't even have your actual fiancée to kiss you better. I doubt you'll listen to me- probably primarily because I'm the one saying it- but don't say I didn't warn you when it inevitably happens. And it will.
But hell, let's examine the whole 'you abandoned me' claim a little bit closer. Yes, James, I'll be the first to admit that I screwed up at Born Arrangement. I'm not going to deny it and I'm not going to make excuses for it. Everybody in that match- even those I despised- deserved better from me. Particularly you. I won't even make an issue out of the fact that you were on your way out yourself before the Universal title miraculously lured you in to 'save the day'. But think about it, James- if I really only cared about myself, if I really only wanted to use the Prophecy for my own ends and leave you in the loop, I'd have walked out of there with the Universal title, even if it meant beating my own teammate down to get it. Think about it, James- you of all people should know what the Universal title means, and that its glory is second to none. If I was using you to relive the glory days, why in the hell would I stop inches short of the greatest glory? It makes no sense. Your logic is completely flawed.
And maybe that's the key to it all, James. You aren't exactly thinking rationally through any of this. None of your accusations make sense, and some of what you say blatantly contradicts your own behavior. I suspect that there's more to this than you're telling me and the fans. I suspect that really, if you look into your soul and be completely honest with yourself, this is less about me 'failing' you or 'using' your or whatever, and more about being overshadowed. In all honesty, I suspect that all the accusations are just your attempts at getting some leverage on moral ground.
My question is James, why
do you even care about what people say? Why does it matter to you
in the slightest if people compare you to me? You don't think I had the
same going on when I came in? I'll give you two words to consider- Sully
Burden. And two more- The Brand. Hell, I'm still being compared to
Brandon, nearly a decade later. That's just the nature of people- they'll
compare you to your predecessors. If you get by me, they'll be calling you
the next Brand- and good luck getting him out of retirement to
prove people wrong. I certainly didn't have any luck.
Weaknesses or not, however, we will fight at Snow Job. It's been written and solidified in stone. You've talked up a pretty big game, James, but ultimately everything you and I've had to say will amount to absolutely nothing when the bell rings and we square off. You've been talking up a fairly aggressive game, but will you actually be able to match that talk? I hope so, James, because if you're just shooting off bluster and hoping I'll stagger into a match that you'll easily win... well, you have another thing coming. You've made this personal, you've held no punches in your words to me. Make no mistake, I intend to hold no punches in my reaction... literally. You wanted this, you've got it- and in the end you've got nobody but yourself to blame.
And that... IS UNDENIABLE!
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