This is the best rp that this site has ever seen!!
So excited to finally have a match with the one and only Trine Larsen

*The camera comes alive in a darkened gym. 5 wrestling rings set up like the side of a die fill the main space,  around the outside of the room is all of your standard gym equipment for strength training, cardio,  and heavy bags hanging from the rafters. Painted on the wall, barely visible in the dim lighting "Steven James' School of Submission". Over the course of its 15 year history this school has turned out many a great wrestler, even a few champions.  There are no jobbers here,  it says as much over the door to the main office. The camera slowly picks its way through the darkened space, the only light coming from a dimmed spotlight over each mat. As the camera glides forward voices begin to fade in, as the camera moves forwards the sex of the speakers becomes clear if not the identity or exact words. A man and a woman are conversing, there is an excited air to the tone as the voices come into focus. The camera rounds the corner and peers into a locker room. Inside we see 2 people that the fans at home are very familiar with, “The Dark Lunatic” Steven James and the very sexy and the even more scary Kristina Blackwell. The pair are packing gym bags, as they converse.*


Steven: Whose idea was this again?


Kristina: Why yours dear?*snark drips from her lips in lethal doses*


Steven: I don’t think so. This reeks of one of those ideas your brother has, that he sells you like some kind of used car salesman. Come do this 1 show, It’ll be great. You’ll be on the upper mid card, I mean clearly the main event is for me but… nevermind that. Can’t you see it now? Wrestling in a ring with fans, not students  focused on your every move. And think about the publicity you can pull out for the school as you take to the WWG ring one more time, for Honor and Glory and then passes you the joint of that **** he smokes. Next thing you know Sharon Tate is a memory and you’re on the news again. [/Color]


Kristina: I think comparing Trevor and Charlie is like oranges and clementines. They aren’t quite the same thing, if not necessarily in the same family. *She throws him a wolfish grin* You see what i did there. [/Color]


Steven:*looks up at Kristina, and shakes his head* Yeah I see. I also see dark clouds on the horizon.We’re about to go back to work. That means opening certain parts of our personalities that have been locked up for a while. I feel that part of me banging on the door all day, everyday. He demands his freedom. The urge is always there, just below the surface. The need for blood,  like some Bela Lugosi monster. Craving the salt of the sweat as it pours in your eyes, the smell of fear as it seeps out of your opponents pores, the way your conscience just steps backs, hands up like “I have no part of this”, and that iron taste you get when your opponents blood sprays and gets in your mouth. The scar from the bullet I took in the leg has begun to ache again. I guess because the scars remind us that the past is real, and it’s about to be blast from the past time.


Kristina: I can see where your conflict is coming from, I can even if I can’t overly sympathize. I toned it down slightly, but I never could put the crazy away. Not like you. It was like a gift, you could always just tone it down enough to smooth things out with the cops, or teachers, or my old man; well until that was no longer necessary. None of them ever really knew. That you were the craziest **** out of all lof us.


Steven:Hey! I’m not crazy , I’m eccentric. I managed to make enough money over the course of my career that I get to be eccentric.


Kristina: Yeah, sure. I never met you before,clearly your eccentric and not a crazy **** psychopath.[/color]


Steven: You always said my crazy was one of my more endearing traits. And yeah,  I remember sitting with your brother while he pitched this craziness,  and yeah; I remember the blood lust that said yes. My blood,  their blood,  leaving it and everything else you have on the mat,  the floor,  car hoods, and film. Reminding all of those terriers out there that the wolf is still alive inside them. That outside of their comfortable steel coffins viking hordes still roam the land in search of villages to plunder,  and glorious deaths to be had in tribute to the all father.I remember everything. That is the problem I remember. I remember that **** at the bonfire. I remember, I remember the chill of sweat that slowly crawled down my spine as that Nosferatu looking **** held your beautiful face to the flame, like Hera threatening punishment to Medusa by destroying her beauty because she herself could not compare. I remember every word that little voice in my head whispered as I stood there watching the events unfold like spilled laundry and being unable to do anything about it. And believe me if you had ANY idea what words that little voice spoke, my eccentric argument would sink faster than Nick Sadistic’s attempt to jump start his career. The things I thought would make the devil blush. And now, now that the doors are closed, that, that little carnival of freaks had rolled its out of round wooden snake oil cart on to points unfuckincaredabout, now that I have put the crazy away. Now they come rolling back into town. It’s like a day hasn’t passed. Here I am, at the ready. I’m gonna chop that **** tree, of a doppey **** down, I’m gonna cord him up, and I’m gonna use him like firewood for that bonfire. And as whatever Micheal Meyersesk evil seeps out of him, and into those dancing orange flames, so too will my stress seep from my pores. SHEMHAMFORASH. [\color]


*As that last phrase falls from Steven’s lips, as venom from the fangs of a cobra, Kristina’s face clouds for a moment ‘Tis but a second, but had Steven been looking at her as he spoke he would have recognized it immediately. It is a very rare emotion for a Blackwell, fear.[\color]


Kristina: Let’s go home.We’ll finish packing tomorrow.


*Kristina takes her husband's hands and begins to head for the door. Hearing an uncomfortable tone in his wife’s voice Steven allows himself to be led away. He would have to calm down a little he told himself. He didn’t want to scare her, but he definitely wanted to end this.The camera fades black as the two make their way from the room*[\color]


*Static takes the screen as someone hijacks the WWG feed. As the static fades, a picture becomes clear, it is very obviously a security camera feed, not the kind that retail stores use for shoplifters but the kind that people install in their homes so they can check on their cockershitz Muffy from work. The room is dark, with the exception of a solitary flame, as from a fireplace match floating. The flame begins to move then multiply, 1 becomes 2, becomes 3, becomes 4 as they continue until 13 flames exist. That much light shows us a small dark table against a wall, on the wall hangs a banner with an inverted pentagram with a goat’s head staring out. Upon the table are 12 black candles and 1 white, they are tall, glass enclosed, and burning brightly. A voice begins to speak in a singsong tone.*


Voice:  Coraxo chis cormp od chis blans,

           De babage. Aziazior paeb soba lilonon

           Chis virq eophan od raclir maasi

           Bagle iad od noqodi, ds ialpon 

           Dogod basgim, od oxex daziz siatris,

           Od salbrox cynxir faboan. Vnal chi

           Const ds yor eors vohim gizyax

           Od matb cocasg plosi molvi,

           Ds pageip, larag om droln

           Matorb cocasb. Emna l patralx

           Yolci matb Nomigmonons

            Olora gnay angelard. Ohio! ohio! ohio! 

            Ohio! ohio! ohio! Noibohio!

           Bolp idoigo madriax! Bagle iad madrid

            zirop od chiso drilpa.Niiso!

           Crip ip micalz apah


*As the last syllable falls from their lips, the feed dies*[\color]


*The camera comes to life on a large deck attached to a beautiful home. It might look familiar to some of the staff,  the last time Steven was here, he held a huge BBQ for everyone, water balloons were thrown, and a good time was had by all. Now the yard is empty of people, lawn furniture is thoughtfully placed about the meticulously manicured lawn. It's August in New York and the oppressive heat is visible on the screen. The camera turns to the house and out of a set of French doors strolls Kristina Blackwell, cell phone in hand. She is stunning in black jeans and a flowy top that somehow blends classy with dangerous. She walks around the space comfortable and familiar in her home, but with a hint of tiger in a cage. She lifts the phone, dials without thought and touches the speaker button as it rings.


Tony Blackwell: Hey sis,  I was just finishing packing then was gonna call. What's up?

 

Kristina: Just getting ready to head to the airport. Steven is inside finishing up. Lemme ask you a question? Do you still have that blank check Steven gave you?


Tony: The bail fund *he says with a chuckle* Yeah.  Why? 


Kristina: Make sure you pack it. I have a feeling we're gonna need it.  Steven is very pumped about this match. That very violent streak is showing again. Like back in the day when he piñata'd Kenny. He has that same look in his eyes he did after Kenny shot him in the leg.


Tony: Me and me three droogs looking for a bit of the ultra violence. I remember that look. People almost died that round. I don't know how Kenny survived it.


Kristina: Barely. The answer is barely. I don't think Kenny had a career after 6 months when he was done. He was never quite right either. I'm clearly gonna stab this ****, so I'm gonna need the ball.  After what she did to me at that campfire, I owe her a six inch thank you between the fourth and fifth ribs. They were a thorn in the side as the family,  but once they ditched the dead weight and went on as a duet they were down right loathsome.


Tony: I remember. I remember that mountain of a man with no nerve endings, and his faithful chihuahua of a wife. One of those little ankle biters you just want to kick. Always **** yapping never with anything to actuality say. I'm gonna enjoy watching you scalp that ****. Speaking of the dead weight, aren't they on the card tonight too?


Kristina: Yeah. That's why I'm glad you'll be there. In case of a family reunion. We need to be focused,  but if that **** gets involved they can get stabbed too.  We're coming focused, to win and I don't need to be blindsided by the children. Steven opened his WWG career with Nick,  and mopped the ring with him,  he might be looking for a little payback.  This would be his last chance.


Tony: Don't worry sis. I'll babysit.

AHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!! fourygnqowiguromiuqrhmfonugqwefmou!!!!!! I CANT WAIT TO WRITEEEE THISSSSSSS WITH YOUUUUUUUU!!!! 8U <3

It had been a question cemented firmly on every wrestling blog across the internet from the moment it was asked...

"Where Is Jason King?"

Once WWG had trotted out some random look alike on a less than stellar episode of the program it was clear to the world at large that something had happened. It wasn't the first time a company had tried this. Fake Razor and Dopel-Diesel were famous examples of a wrestling promotion trying to keep a character while losing the person. Though this had always been held up as a reason why a company SHOULDN'T do that.

Still from that moment on message boards all over the world had continued to ask the same question.

"Where Is Jason King?"

He never showed up at any other indy promotions, no rival companies, nothing. Every time a federation would announce that there was going to be a "new talent to shake things up" the speculation of whether or not this could finally be the time the Big Black Wolf returned to the squared circle began a new.

But it was never to be. So again the world continued to ask.

"Where Is Jason King?"

It's not every day that one of the most controversial figures in wrestling, certainly one of the most controversial figures in World Wrestling Generations time, would up and vanish without so much of a trace. Former world champions don't just disappear into thin air. It became such a mystery that there were whispers that a criminal investigation had been launched, if you believe that sort of thing. There was even a point where a wrestling insider got their hands on a grainy cell phone video of what looked like two federal agents, one young fit the other older fatter for sure, asking the same question everyone else was.

"Where Is Jason King?"

WWG obviously never admitted to anything nefarious. Thought the rumor mill of the backstage dealings became more and more chilling as the internet began looking into it. Stories surfaced of some of things that went on backstage and to the wrestlers where more and more shocking. One such rumor hit the online news stands stood out particularly. Though the powers that be completely denied this, a paper trail showed that WWG had signed on a known Neo Nazi/White Supremacist with the subtle as a burning semi plan that this person would go after the only black superstar they had on roster at the time, Jason King. While a lot of rumors swirled around in the death throws of WWG this one was truly put gas to the fire to the question...

"Where Is Jason King?"

This recurring question rose quickly into an online crescendo as all over the world black voices began shouting to be heard. With the global epidemic taking away most of the distractions the roar of the oppressed became deafening beyond the ability for anyone to ignore. The professional wrestling world was not immune to this melody and the beat of a very familiar drum began to pound on every message board, every pod cast, and every news speculation piece about the sudden reunion show of the long dead WWG...

"Where Is Jason King?"

That beat continued as the online world exploded when it was announced that Trine Larsen, WWG favorite and first ever woman World Champion, was going to be facing off for the first time in her career against none other than Jason King himself. It was on everyones lips, it was talked about on every forum imaginable. Who would WWG be bringing? Would it be "Fakson King" as the internet had dubbed the imposter WWG had trotted out in vegas all those years ago? Or maybe...just maybe...would the beat of hundreds of thousands of hearts across the world finally be met with the genuine article. Would the people finally get the answer to...

"Where Is Jason King?"

.....Who knows? that's why they bought the live stream pay per view. The mysterious new owner of WWG wouldn't say a word and the people didn't want to miss history. So they paid for the chance to be disappointed but maybe, just maybe, finally vindicated. As the night progressed there wasn't a stage hand, tech crew, or backstage interviewer who wasn't keeping their eyes extra peeled for a chance that they might be the one to break this story to the world. The feeling that would bring.

Well everyone accept one custodial worker, Rory. The copious amount of bills held together by a rubber band was all he needed feel. And he did feel it, constantly, every time he ushered someone way from the broom closet that he was now casually guarding. The broom closet that held may have held a young man, that looked an awful lot like the man who gave Rory the bills in the first place, though not enough to really fool anyone. Why this guy wanted to tie this other guy up and stick in a closet Rory didn't know and didn't care, but he assumed it had something to do with the small blonde girl.

Because for whatever reason, when she saw the many that gave Rory the money, the man holding a crowbar and a smirk on his face...it seemed to matter to her.

It had been a while.

There were parts in Trine Larsen’s life that felt like a bad dream.

It came in odd flashes and sparks of sound- the details blurry and the specifics lost to time. The feeling, however, always stayed. There had been too many moments wandering the halls of the structure in front of her that meant looking over her shoulder, waiting for a tell tale flicker of lights, or trying to shake the feeling that there were eyes trained on her back.

Almedia with a knife in a hallway. Collins haunting her sleep. Tony Mann being attacked and feeling helpless to stop it. Watching a casino shatter from the inside as an explosion wracked through its bones on the news.

Now, she stood in the heat of summer staring at the heavy double doors with a sinking pit in her stomach. There were good moments. She remembered good moments.

Watching Danny poke fun at Bo in developmental. Seeing The Losers win the tag team championship. Having a dodgeball war in the middle of a venue hallway with Kid Genius.

She didn’t know what to expect as she pushed the doors open and felt the wash of air conditioned air pour over her. It felt like jumping off a cliff and waiting for the snap of the bungee chord to stop her from falling.

Trine kept to herself.

It felt like the best way to control the space around her that for so long had been unpredictable. She stayed in the women’s locker room, watched the matches ahead of her on the media cart left in the hallway, and wandered her way towards the curtain to wait.

Trine Larsen vs. Jason King.

The blonde scoffed to herself and crossed her arms in front of her chest. The last time “Jason King” made an appearance she knew all too well it wasn’t him. It was some bizarre stand in and the more she dug- looking through forums and conspiracy theory blogs, the more she’d started to piece together that Jason King wasn’t coming back.

He was always so careful.

If there was anyone that felt super human, anyone that felt untouchable, it was Jason King. Trine didn’t believe someone one-upped him, but what she believed or not didn’t matter. He was gone and he wasn’t coming back….and she had a sinking feeling the whispers that he may have been in that casino were right.

As much as his teasing and smart ass comments made her blood boil….the hallways had gotten quiet.

Eventually moving on to other federations helped to shake things up. There was less worry, less panic, and less of that empty for of quiet- but now they were back.

*Ding Ding Ding* the bell.

She closed her eyes, letting her hip rest against the wall beside her with a quiet sigh, and let herself swim in the white noise of her thoughts. When she opened them again there was a face….

A face Trine Larsen never expected seeing again standing across from her with that same…..****…..smirk……

She could kill him.

She was going. To kill him!

“YOU SONNOFA-!”

The first beat of an old tune hit the speakers, cutting her off, and she could have sworn he wink on his way out.

It's been several years since Joe Lych has been seen or heard from. No one is sure where he has been or what he has been doing since walking away from the ring . His brewery closed down not long after walking away from WWG as did the bar he use to frequent , although rumors started to stir that he had bought a home somewhere in Western Massachusetts and has kept a rather quiet existence far from any kind of spotlight.


However, if anyone would know where to find the man who once took on the moniker of " Masshole " , it would be his old friend and former confidant , Conner Murphy . So, WWG decided to send Conner and a camera crew out to find Lych ahead of their reunion show . After a couple false leads and stops for beer , they finally found what they were looking for.


As the cameras roll they pull up to a small home in the town of Orange Massachusetts . The savvy viewer might recognize the town as the setting for the show " Castle Rock " , but, that's not really important to this story, so we should move on . Conner's  car pulls up in front of the house and stops . He gets out of the car and begins to make his way to the front of the house but stops when he heard music playing in the back yard . Conner follows the sound and when he reaches the corner of the house we see Joe Lych sitting in a chair in front of a fire pit. Conner begins to speak.


Conner :" Hey , long time no see . Mine if I join ya, laddy ? "


Joe doesn't turn around or even look in the direction of his old friend. He sits in silence as Conner moves closer , beer in hand.

Conner : " Mind if I sit and share a pint ? Looks like you could use a bit of company . "

Joe still doesn't look at Conner but he does motion to an empty chair on the other side of the fire pit and Conner takes a seat . The two sit in silence , watching the fire , and drinking a beer. Conner begins to speak again but Joe quickly cuts him off.

Joe : " I know why your here , and I'm not interested. You can stay and finish that beer , but don't ask me about that place. Don't ask me if I'm going to go back , and don't ask me why . I walked away a long time ago and I've made peace with that . Besides , I have better things to do that day . "  


Conner just shoots Joe a confused look . He takes a sip off of his beer before he speaks.

Conner : " What the bloody hell are you talking about ? How do you know what brought me here ? Maybe I just wanted to pay a visit to an old friend . Maybe I came to catch up and talk about old times. Maybe they paid me a nice chunk of money to find you and talk you into making an appearance for one night . Maybe , they are going to pay you a nice chunk to drag your ass out of this self isolation and have one last match ! So what's so bloody important that you're gonna turn that down ? "

Joe " It's D & D night . "


Conner shoots a confused look in Joe's direction .

Conner :" First of all , I know for a fact that you do that on Monday night's . Second of all Barney Green wants in more ' Battle For Boston ' brawls . This is your chance to end that moron once and for all . Think about it , one more chance to beat the living he'll out of Green then you can ride off into the sunset and leave on your own terms . Are you really happy with how your career ended ! Just walking away without saying a word ? You use to be a proud man who wouldn't back down from a fight . Now , when I look at you all I see is a shell of who you used to be . I don't know why I even wasted my time coming all the way down here . "


 Conner stands and begins to walk away . Before he can take a step Joe also stands and speaks .

Joe :" You have no idea what kind of man I am . You have no idea what has been going on inside my head all these years . I'm a 46 year old man who every single day crawls out of his bed feeling every ache and pain that body has ever felt from the years of abuse . Physical and emotional . Now , I could sit here and tell you to go to hell and not feel an ounce of shame for walking away from a fight . I could just beat the living hell out of you right now for sticking your nose in my business after all these years , but , what satisfaction would that bring me ? No , to be honest , it's not you that deserves an ass kicking . Barney Green , Barney Green is the one . Since I've tried to walk away he has hounded me time and time again asking for one more match . No matter how many times I put him down , he just kept asking for one more . "

Joe turns and looks into the camera . A focused look comes across his face.

Joe : " The only way I'm going to finally get the peace I've been searching for us to finally put Barney Green into the ground for good . I need to take that old dog out behind the shed and put a bullet in him . Barney , you and I have been up and down the road as tag team partners , and as enemies , but that's not what this is about . What this is about is putting my past in the past and moving on with my life . If I have to beat you half to death to do that , then so be it. One last match and I can finally have closure .One last match and I can finally rest. "

Lych pushes the camera out of his way and walks off , bringing the scene to a close.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xArmqniFiJ8

"This is my last time in the unemployment line."

Gotta love Styx but how wrong was I to think that. Let's talk about what has gone on over the years. Three long years have passed by in the life of Barney Green. You look at what happened to me. I came back missing an eye. That eye is still gone but what can we do about it? Nothing. Even threw a glass eye in to replace it. Nerve wracking as I thought I was done this year. There was nothing on my schedule. My contract at the XWF ended but I heard talk of a reunion show in WWG so why not come back to Australia for one night only.

I'm getting too old for this sh!t though. I mean, f_ck. That means I gotta start drinking white claw again so I can get back into the best shape of my life. I mean, look at me.



256 pounds of pure Boston Pride. Best shape of my life for this battle against, Joe Lych. Somebody I truly respect. We were partners at one point. This is the true Battle Of Boston. I beat you once before. Let's see how it goes this time around. Nothing personal. Strictly business. I even was willing to invest some of my own money so we can do this one way or another. Batte Of Boston makes no sense in Australia. South Boston vs. Boston.

I may not be able to bust heads like I used to but I can still handle myself in a fight even with one good eye. Tape up that knee and make sure its protected. I know its not gonna provide much support stepping into a warzone but I am ready for it. I considered you a brother at one point but you screwed me over with your greed back then. I can overlook that but just remember, I'm gonna hit you twice as hard as you hit me.

I've been training long and hard for this match. I got a couple tricks of my sleeves for you as well as a few weapons since this is a Battle Of Boston Match. There are no rules so get ready. Woke up with a bit of a murderous side to me. Some might say I am not even human with the number of blows I have received.

"Woke Up This Morning'

Guys like us, Joe. We never change. Growing up on the streets of Boston. We may be succesful but that blue-collar aspect of us never truly fades. I know it didn't for me. I may not have been an athlete but I could throw down no problem. No matter how much money got thrown my way, I was that same person. Maybe I am just some psycho analyst who just wants to stick an ax in your head. I digress though.

I got enough skeletons in my closet. May be 36 but i feel 63 some days. Slam down a shot a vodka to start the morning. Numb the pain a bit. I was truly a trailblazer back in the early 2000's when it came to pro wrestling. Openly bisexual and didn't even act like they expected on screen. What they saw was a guy ready to bleed for a living. Always sinning, but meh. What do we know?

I admit there is way too much violence in society but that was my choice. I had to be different. There was no way I was going to be that dishy guy who flailed around. You throw a drink in my face. You are gonna get punched. End of discussion.

See you in hell, Lych. I'll be waiting with bells on..

The scene opens up inside of a dimly lit gym where we see Barney Green, dressed in blue shorts with a black t-shirt and no shoes, training inside of a ring. He does some quick punches and then stops. John Laurinaitis appears outside of the ring, dressed in navy blue track pants and a jacket that matches. John goes to speak.

John: How do you feel, champ? You feel good for this?

Barney: I am as ready as I am ever gonna be.

Barney takes a swig of water as John goes to speak.

John: You look great. This is the best shape i have ever seen you in.

Barney: Glad you could make it, John.

Barney exits the ring and goes to shake hands with John. John shakes his hand and goes to speak.

John: Of course, I would be here. I also got a flight out to Australia as well. I am gonna be in your corner for this one.

Barney: That means a lot. Wait until you see the entrance I got planned. Its gonna shock everybody.

Barney stops talking and takes a swig of water as John goes to speak.

John: I am sure that it is, champ. You got this match in the bag. Is it your last one?

Barney: For now at least. I can't predict the future but I don't see myself staying active after this reunion show. I need the rest.

John goes to speak.

John: Which is respectable. You are a hall of famer here and its gonna be a one night only return for who wants in.

Barney: Let's get back to work though.

The scene fades to black as both Barney and John continue to talk strategy.