Post by Ace Bennett on Dec 13, 2010 15:44:56 GMT -5
How stubborn are the scars when they won't fade away? Or just a gentle reminder that now are better days?
Syracuse, New York. A town best known for its college. A typical American city, maybe a little smaller. There aren't too many buildings that are as high as the clouds, as you may see in bigger cities like Los Angeles or New York City. There is still the high population of people in the relatively low amount of space. Apartment buildings are where the majority of the citizens of the city live.
Our focus is on one of these buildings. On one of the apartments in this building. On one of rooms of this apartment. That would be the bedroom of Ace Bennett. A room that has just recently been inhabited. Cardboard boxes of various sizes are still neatly piled on top of each other by the walls. Some of the boxes are opened, and the contents are seemingly jumbled. Black garbage bags with clothes had been ransacked, putting holes in them. The walls and ceiling are a bare, eggshell white with the texture of used sandpaper. On the floor is a tacky red wine colored shag carpet. Clearly, a room not tended to very well. In the far right hand corner was a twin sized bed, the only furniture in the entire room that was set up. Ace Bennett laid on this bed, in full street clothes, throwing a baseball up in the air, and catching it with his bare hand.
"The WFDC, the place where I started my career in the WFWF. A place where I honed my skills in preparation for the so called "big time." A place I have returned to prepare myself for an even bigger time. The WFDC represents the building blocks to my career."
A smirk comes across Ace's lips.
"My first and only match in the WFDC was against Tempest. An XWA veteran. A wrestler with expertise far beyond my years. Simply put, I got my ass handed to me. Now, after some time in the WFWF, I have returned in hopes that learning here will earn me my first gold in the WFWF."
Ace sits up, causing his mattress to moan in distress. He hangs his legs over the bed, putting his feet on the floor.
"My first opponent in my return to the WFDC is none other than Johnny Albright. A member of the so called "Hardcore Horsemen." Its kind of funny, because the most hardcore thing I've ever seen Albright do is take someone's boot straight to the face. Hard(core). Sure, he may be scary, but there's not a thing hardcore about him. You want to see hardcore?"
Ace removes his shirt, revealing his chiseled upper body. He points at his chest, specifically at a scar that runs half way across his right pec.
"You see this? Before I came to the WFWF, i worked for a number of independents. You know, the kind of promotions that would pay you 50 bucks and a crappy meal to work twice as hard as you do in the WFWF. You have to set up the ring and all that good stuff. Anyways, one of the promotions I worked for was a garbage fed called Extreme Warfare Wrestling. In EWW, I worked deathmatches. I was facing this guy named Hardcore Henry, when I was thrown into a plate of glass. The glass impaled my chest, barely missing my heart and killing me. That's what left behind this scar."
Ace runs his finger down the scar. He feels a singeing burn as he does this.
"Albright, I have nothing against you, but you chose the wrong person to face right now. The WFDC was once my stomping grounds, and I plan to have it return to being that way. When we face off, you will truly know what is means to be hardcore."
Ace gets up, and leaves his bedroom.
Syracuse, New York. A town best known for its college. A typical American city, maybe a little smaller. There aren't too many buildings that are as high as the clouds, as you may see in bigger cities like Los Angeles or New York City. There is still the high population of people in the relatively low amount of space. Apartment buildings are where the majority of the citizens of the city live.
Our focus is on one of these buildings. On one of the apartments in this building. On one of rooms of this apartment. That would be the bedroom of Ace Bennett. A room that has just recently been inhabited. Cardboard boxes of various sizes are still neatly piled on top of each other by the walls. Some of the boxes are opened, and the contents are seemingly jumbled. Black garbage bags with clothes had been ransacked, putting holes in them. The walls and ceiling are a bare, eggshell white with the texture of used sandpaper. On the floor is a tacky red wine colored shag carpet. Clearly, a room not tended to very well. In the far right hand corner was a twin sized bed, the only furniture in the entire room that was set up. Ace Bennett laid on this bed, in full street clothes, throwing a baseball up in the air, and catching it with his bare hand.
"The WFDC, the place where I started my career in the WFWF. A place where I honed my skills in preparation for the so called "big time." A place I have returned to prepare myself for an even bigger time. The WFDC represents the building blocks to my career."
A smirk comes across Ace's lips.
"My first and only match in the WFDC was against Tempest. An XWA veteran. A wrestler with expertise far beyond my years. Simply put, I got my ass handed to me. Now, after some time in the WFWF, I have returned in hopes that learning here will earn me my first gold in the WFWF."
Ace sits up, causing his mattress to moan in distress. He hangs his legs over the bed, putting his feet on the floor.
"My first opponent in my return to the WFDC is none other than Johnny Albright. A member of the so called "Hardcore Horsemen." Its kind of funny, because the most hardcore thing I've ever seen Albright do is take someone's boot straight to the face. Hard(core). Sure, he may be scary, but there's not a thing hardcore about him. You want to see hardcore?"
Ace removes his shirt, revealing his chiseled upper body. He points at his chest, specifically at a scar that runs half way across his right pec.
"You see this? Before I came to the WFWF, i worked for a number of independents. You know, the kind of promotions that would pay you 50 bucks and a crappy meal to work twice as hard as you do in the WFWF. You have to set up the ring and all that good stuff. Anyways, one of the promotions I worked for was a garbage fed called Extreme Warfare Wrestling. In EWW, I worked deathmatches. I was facing this guy named Hardcore Henry, when I was thrown into a plate of glass. The glass impaled my chest, barely missing my heart and killing me. That's what left behind this scar."
Ace runs his finger down the scar. He feels a singeing burn as he does this.
"Albright, I have nothing against you, but you chose the wrong person to face right now. The WFDC was once my stomping grounds, and I plan to have it return to being that way. When we face off, you will truly know what is means to be hardcore."
Ace gets up, and leaves his bedroom.
- Ace
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Just an idea I had since I was facing a Hardcore Horseman. I think I got the style correctly, but I'm sure I could use some advice to make it better. I'm not too great at the third person, so that might be why the setting isn't great.
