Post by Thunder on Dec 4, 2013 23:19:16 GMT -5
---OOC Note: This RP is intended for the International Title Match and should be read AFTER my other RP, as these events take place afterwards.---
Michael could not be believe that he was doing this.
"I can't believe I'm doing this."
Hey, I already said that.
"This will be good for you," Robin said, only moments after the plane took off.
"You're probably right about that, but you understand that this is one of the worst times possible, right? Not only is this one of the biggest shows of my life at Scars and Stripes, but it's actually in Pittsburgh. For once in my life, I had the benefit of being at home for a major show. There would be no jetlag at all. And now that advantage is gone."
He turned to see her response, but much to his consternation, she had already fallen asleep. How she had done so that quickly, and in the middle of conversation, made no sense to him.
Michael tried to pass the time with a book, but he found himself unable to focus on it, and that wasn't just because it was some awful Dan Brown nonsense. He had a lot to think about after all that had gone on in the past day, and in a major switch, for once it wasn't negative thoughts. More than an anything else, he found himself relieved to a large degree. And he sure felt a lot better now.
It was amazing how right Robin had been about the whole entire thing. Every single thing she told him had been right thus far. Although talking with Kurt turned out to be something that ever got off the ground, the talks with both Shawn and Henry went the way she pretty much said it would go. It wasn't just a case of neither one of them hating him, which he thought was possible. Not only were they both okay with him, but they both "got" what he was like, and understood his situation long before he did himself. They also gave him much better insight into how to go forward.
All he had to do was connect with the people who cared about him with using them, and to just make an attempt to be happy. He was pretty sure he could do that. And if he could, everything would be alright.
And maybe Robin was right about this trip as well, as crazy as it seemed. Right now he was batting a thousand with mending his burned bridges, so he had every reason to believe this would work out as well. In fairness, his brother clearly had greater disdain for him than anyone else he talked to.
He was prepared to wake Robin up and tell her she was right when he also suddenly dropped to sleep.
Both of them slept the rest of the flight, and were a little groggy as they began walking the streets of Paris. Although neither one of them really knew where they were, Robin was the one with the info on where his brother lived, so he was relying on her for all the necessary info.
"You know where we're going?" he asked.
"More or less."
"That doesn't sound too confident to me."
"Oh come on now," Robin said. "We'll be alright."
"Why did he move over here anyway?"
"Who knows the full story. It was something about wanting to study abroad instead of in the U.S."
"But he's got two degrees now! He can't just live on in a fantasy world like this forever."
"I'm pretty sure he's been happier in this fantasy world than the world you've been in," she said.
"Oh, I can't deny that. Speaking of him, though, I did want to say that I think you're probably right about doing this too. The experiences so far have been good, so it does seem worth it to give this a shot too. And that whole jetlag thing was a stupid excuse by me anyway. I've competed for years coming off of flights and I've been fine.
"That's just an excuse I was trying to make for not going, and to cover myself if I don't do well at the show. But there's going to be no excuses for me going into Scars and Stripes. Everything is on the table for me to win. I feel better professionally and personally than I have a long, long time. I know I can win both the battle royal and the International Title, and if I don't, no excuses. For once."
"It's refreshing to hear you talk like this for once. You're a lot more introspective now, and that's a good thing."
"Thanks. I'm hoping this is all a change for the better for me. I'm open to letting more people in, and I think I stand a decent chance of being able to move on from Stacy now."
"That's good. You want to get something to eat before we go see him?" Robin asked.
"I'm not that hungry, but I'll split something with you."
Robin stopped at the first place she saw and stared very blankly at the menu, as her French skills were non existent.
"You took French in college, right?"
"For one semester. And I learned nothing from it except that I should have avoided dating the girl I met in that class."
"Well, I'll just pick something then."
Robin pointed to some seemingly random item and was told to pay whatever the hell the cashier decided to scam her out of. In return, she was handed a very long and hard (insert your own penis joke here, everybody) piece of bread. Dumbfounded, Robin started to walk away with it.
"Nice choice," Michael said. "If we're accosted by any mimes I'm pretty sure the blunt force of that will he able to kill the guy."
"What am I supposed to do with this?"
"I don't know. Stick it in your purse or something or just pitch it."
"I'll just throw it out. Let's wait to get something until we see him, on second thought. Maybe he'll tell us what to get."
Robin got lost more than once on the way to the apartment, but she eventually located what she was sure was exactly where he lived at.
"Why don't you just call him and double check before we go knocking on the door?"
"Well, I kind of didn't tell him we were coming."
"Oh, this is gonna go well," Michael said.
"Don't get so negative here. Let's just see what happens."
Robin knocked, and Michael backed up behind as she did so. It seemed liked a better idea to have her be the first face she saw instead of his. At lead he had some fondness for her.
No answer.
"He better be home," she said as she knocked a few more times.
This time the door swung open, practically flying off its hinges in the process, or so it seemed. For the first time since their mother's funeral, Michael found himself looking into the eyes of his brother.
No one on either side of the door said or did anything at first. And then, his brother let out one long sigh and slammed the door right in their faces. Robin was not satisfied with that being the end of it.
She banged on the door a little bit harder this time, using both hands.
"Come on, please don't do this! We just want to talk to you and catch up. Let's try to get along again."
"I want nothing to do with him," he shouted from behind the door.
Robin turned her attention back to Michael.
"Why don't you head back outside the apartment building and I'll see if I can talk to him about seeing you by himself."
Michael had no objections to this at all. If he could avoid a screaming match that was fine by him. And if his neither didn't want to talk, then so be it. He still felt bad that they weren't on speaking terms, but it wasn't like they were ever incredibly close to begin with.
The most important thing of these couple of days wasn't the potential failure of reconnecting with his brother. This was just something extra they were trying. The vital revelations had already taken place and he felt confident he would be better moving forward. It seemed like he grasped himself and his nature going forward, and knew how to better himself.
This was actually turning into a great time for him instead of an awful time, or at least had the potential to. The revelations of his personal life had already started to work similarly longer in WFWF. Step by step, his confidence had been growing in himself in the WFWF, leading to this one show on his one turf where he could cap off his comeback.
The renaissance had been growing with each successive win, as well as his confidence. Now more than ever, he believed in himself and his abilities to win at a high level of the WFWF. The time to prove himself to everyone was here. In one day, the chance to get both the International Title and win the WFWF Rumble. And now he knew more than ever that had the capability to be that good once again.
It was shaping up to be a very good time to be him. For once, all was pointing in his favor.
Well, all was in his favor except for meeting his brother.
"He won't do it," Robin said upon returning to meet Michael outside. "I'm sorry, but it's just not happening. Maybe if you try emailing or calling later he'll be more open to that."
"I guess, maybe."
"I'm really sorry again," she said. "I thought this would have gone better."
"It's alright, not your fault. Let's attempt to get something to eat now."
Michael turned the corner and crashed right into another pedestrian, a young lady probably roughly around his age. All of Michael’s belongings were in a messenger bag over his shoulder, so he didn't lose any of stuff in the collision. But for the woman he ran into, all of the papers and other items she was holding went flying.
"I'm so sorry," Michael said in English, since he had no idea how to say it in French. He bent down to help her gather her stuff, continuing to apologize. Once that was done, the woman still remained in her spot, reorganizing the items she was holding.
"You know," Michael said in a low voice to Robin. "If this were a movie, running into a cute girl like that would lead to a date, but we know I'll never do that. And I don't know French anyway."
Michael and Robin started to walk away, when they were stopped by a sudden voice.
"I speak English you know," a French sounding voice said in English.
Michael turned around and saw the woman he just ran into offer a sly smile.
"I'm Stacey," she said as she offered her hand to shake. "Nice to meet you."
Just hearing that name made him smile. He returned the handshake and they began to talk.
Any WFWF viewer knows that there have been a lot of titles in this company's history. Within the sheer number of them, most have completely and totally useless. Nobody is really clambering for the return of the Young Gunn Title or the Internet Title, for instance, because those belts never meant anything to begin with. And apparently the tag titles don't any more, either.
There are only a few select titles in the history of this company that have truly meant a lot. And through an evolution of sorts, only those truly important titles remain. There's a very select few and they don't have demeaning names like the Ham Shank Title or focus on a useless niche like the Hardcore X Title. All that's left is the National, International and WFWF Title.
I've actually never held the National Title before, one of the few titles I've never even fought for in my grand slam career. And that's because I, well to be honest, catapulted myself so far up the card that I just skipped that step entirely.
But for a lot of guys, that is an important step. For the up and coming stars of the WFWF, the National is of great importance. Right there is a step to rise above the pack and get your fist taste of gold. Future legends like Master of Destruction and Trace Demon. If you want to know who might be a big star some day, it's a pretty safe bet to take a look at the National Title scene for some answers.
But as important as that title is, the International Title is so much bigger. To reach that level, you must be an elite wrestler in this company. To hold that title means that you have made it and, more often that not, there are bigger things ahead of you. The number of guys who have gone from holding this title to the World Title is immense, including yours truly.
So it should come as no surprise that this International Title Tournament has been so hard fought with so much competition. Everyone was willing to do anything to get this title and fight with all they had to make it to the finals. And now, at Scars & Stripes, we've reached that point finally.
From the start, I was the odd man out in this tournament. Every other guy was following the typical path to the International Title. They were all making their way up to heights they had never been to before, to reach an ever higher level. And that's the way it goes for most of these International Title winners.
And then there's me, a guy who's done it all, scratching and crawling his way back to a title and a level he once passed by. Most people would tell you I deserve to have to earn that spot again, since my time has passed me by and I'm just running on fumes.
You know what? I'm goddamn sick and tired of being treated like a fossil and people acting like I have nothing left. Since the day I came back, no matter how many people I beat, I'm still looked down on. How much more do I need to do to get the respect I deserve, and to show all you people just how good I am?
The time to shut everyone up is right here in front of us. I plan on winning both matches that night, earning myself both the International Title and the main event of Superbrawl. And I can't wait for you all to see how easy it's gonna be. As a matter of fact, this might my easiest match in quite some time.
At least the other guys I had to face in the tournament actually had an original thought in their head. They weren't mindless sheep brainwashed to do whatever they were told. That's the kind of guy I'm facing in the finals, in the form of Mr. Demento.
What exactly do I have to be afraid of, pray tell? Why should I be the least bit worried about facing a guy who is nothing more than a weak coward? I don't care how you explain it or justify it, anyone that allows themselves to be completely brainwashed is an empty vessel that is incredibly weak.
There's nothing to fear in a person that has no backbone whatsoever can be exploited any way someone else sees fit. And Demento, that's precisely what you are. There's nothing in there any more, and there sure as hell is nothing there that I can't combat.
I've made some important revelations about myself recently, and not all of them are things I'm proud of. One of those things is how often and how well I can exploit people. It's how I made my life and my career.
And while I'm not planning on doing that to people in my life any more, I have no problems doing so in the ring. That's where exploitation has some value.
My whole career has been spent exploiting weaknesses in that ring to get wins and obtain titles. And Demento, it's been against a lot tougher than you. It's not even a level of talent, either. Those guys weren't effectively brain dead. You're already being exploited right now, Demento. And you have no idea how easy it will be for me to exploit someone as weak an empty as you. Tie one arm behind my back and I'll still do it.
For all of you doubters about how much I have left, you all better take notice at Scars & Stripes. What I'm about to do shouldn't be a surprise to any of you. I'm going to do what I always have done. I'm going to exploit the weak, win a title and seen myself the main event spot at Superbrawl.
I'm going to show all of you that I'm still the best.
Michael could not be believe that he was doing this.
"I can't believe I'm doing this."
Hey, I already said that.
"This will be good for you," Robin said, only moments after the plane took off.
"You're probably right about that, but you understand that this is one of the worst times possible, right? Not only is this one of the biggest shows of my life at Scars and Stripes, but it's actually in Pittsburgh. For once in my life, I had the benefit of being at home for a major show. There would be no jetlag at all. And now that advantage is gone."
He turned to see her response, but much to his consternation, she had already fallen asleep. How she had done so that quickly, and in the middle of conversation, made no sense to him.
Michael tried to pass the time with a book, but he found himself unable to focus on it, and that wasn't just because it was some awful Dan Brown nonsense. He had a lot to think about after all that had gone on in the past day, and in a major switch, for once it wasn't negative thoughts. More than an anything else, he found himself relieved to a large degree. And he sure felt a lot better now.
It was amazing how right Robin had been about the whole entire thing. Every single thing she told him had been right thus far. Although talking with Kurt turned out to be something that ever got off the ground, the talks with both Shawn and Henry went the way she pretty much said it would go. It wasn't just a case of neither one of them hating him, which he thought was possible. Not only were they both okay with him, but they both "got" what he was like, and understood his situation long before he did himself. They also gave him much better insight into how to go forward.
All he had to do was connect with the people who cared about him with using them, and to just make an attempt to be happy. He was pretty sure he could do that. And if he could, everything would be alright.
And maybe Robin was right about this trip as well, as crazy as it seemed. Right now he was batting a thousand with mending his burned bridges, so he had every reason to believe this would work out as well. In fairness, his brother clearly had greater disdain for him than anyone else he talked to.
He was prepared to wake Robin up and tell her she was right when he also suddenly dropped to sleep.
~ ~
Both of them slept the rest of the flight, and were a little groggy as they began walking the streets of Paris. Although neither one of them really knew where they were, Robin was the one with the info on where his brother lived, so he was relying on her for all the necessary info.
"You know where we're going?" he asked.
"More or less."
"That doesn't sound too confident to me."
"Oh come on now," Robin said. "We'll be alright."
"Why did he move over here anyway?"
"Who knows the full story. It was something about wanting to study abroad instead of in the U.S."
"But he's got two degrees now! He can't just live on in a fantasy world like this forever."
"I'm pretty sure he's been happier in this fantasy world than the world you've been in," she said.
"Oh, I can't deny that. Speaking of him, though, I did want to say that I think you're probably right about doing this too. The experiences so far have been good, so it does seem worth it to give this a shot too. And that whole jetlag thing was a stupid excuse by me anyway. I've competed for years coming off of flights and I've been fine.
"That's just an excuse I was trying to make for not going, and to cover myself if I don't do well at the show. But there's going to be no excuses for me going into Scars and Stripes. Everything is on the table for me to win. I feel better professionally and personally than I have a long, long time. I know I can win both the battle royal and the International Title, and if I don't, no excuses. For once."
"It's refreshing to hear you talk like this for once. You're a lot more introspective now, and that's a good thing."
"Thanks. I'm hoping this is all a change for the better for me. I'm open to letting more people in, and I think I stand a decent chance of being able to move on from Stacy now."
"That's good. You want to get something to eat before we go see him?" Robin asked.
"I'm not that hungry, but I'll split something with you."
Robin stopped at the first place she saw and stared very blankly at the menu, as her French skills were non existent.
"You took French in college, right?"
"For one semester. And I learned nothing from it except that I should have avoided dating the girl I met in that class."
"Well, I'll just pick something then."
Robin pointed to some seemingly random item and was told to pay whatever the hell the cashier decided to scam her out of. In return, she was handed a very long and hard (insert your own penis joke here, everybody) piece of bread. Dumbfounded, Robin started to walk away with it.
"Nice choice," Michael said. "If we're accosted by any mimes I'm pretty sure the blunt force of that will he able to kill the guy."
"What am I supposed to do with this?"
"I don't know. Stick it in your purse or something or just pitch it."
"I'll just throw it out. Let's wait to get something until we see him, on second thought. Maybe he'll tell us what to get."
Robin got lost more than once on the way to the apartment, but she eventually located what she was sure was exactly where he lived at.
"Why don't you just call him and double check before we go knocking on the door?"
"Well, I kind of didn't tell him we were coming."
"Oh, this is gonna go well," Michael said.
"Don't get so negative here. Let's just see what happens."
Robin knocked, and Michael backed up behind as she did so. It seemed liked a better idea to have her be the first face she saw instead of his. At lead he had some fondness for her.
No answer.
"He better be home," she said as she knocked a few more times.
This time the door swung open, practically flying off its hinges in the process, or so it seemed. For the first time since their mother's funeral, Michael found himself looking into the eyes of his brother.
No one on either side of the door said or did anything at first. And then, his brother let out one long sigh and slammed the door right in their faces. Robin was not satisfied with that being the end of it.
She banged on the door a little bit harder this time, using both hands.
"Come on, please don't do this! We just want to talk to you and catch up. Let's try to get along again."
"I want nothing to do with him," he shouted from behind the door.
Robin turned her attention back to Michael.
"Why don't you head back outside the apartment building and I'll see if I can talk to him about seeing you by himself."
Michael had no objections to this at all. If he could avoid a screaming match that was fine by him. And if his neither didn't want to talk, then so be it. He still felt bad that they weren't on speaking terms, but it wasn't like they were ever incredibly close to begin with.
The most important thing of these couple of days wasn't the potential failure of reconnecting with his brother. This was just something extra they were trying. The vital revelations had already taken place and he felt confident he would be better moving forward. It seemed like he grasped himself and his nature going forward, and knew how to better himself.
This was actually turning into a great time for him instead of an awful time, or at least had the potential to. The revelations of his personal life had already started to work similarly longer in WFWF. Step by step, his confidence had been growing in himself in the WFWF, leading to this one show on his one turf where he could cap off his comeback.
The renaissance had been growing with each successive win, as well as his confidence. Now more than ever, he believed in himself and his abilities to win at a high level of the WFWF. The time to prove himself to everyone was here. In one day, the chance to get both the International Title and win the WFWF Rumble. And now he knew more than ever that had the capability to be that good once again.
It was shaping up to be a very good time to be him. For once, all was pointing in his favor.
Well, all was in his favor except for meeting his brother.
"He won't do it," Robin said upon returning to meet Michael outside. "I'm sorry, but it's just not happening. Maybe if you try emailing or calling later he'll be more open to that."
"I guess, maybe."
"I'm really sorry again," she said. "I thought this would have gone better."
"It's alright, not your fault. Let's attempt to get something to eat now."
Michael turned the corner and crashed right into another pedestrian, a young lady probably roughly around his age. All of Michael’s belongings were in a messenger bag over his shoulder, so he didn't lose any of stuff in the collision. But for the woman he ran into, all of the papers and other items she was holding went flying.
"I'm so sorry," Michael said in English, since he had no idea how to say it in French. He bent down to help her gather her stuff, continuing to apologize. Once that was done, the woman still remained in her spot, reorganizing the items she was holding.
"You know," Michael said in a low voice to Robin. "If this were a movie, running into a cute girl like that would lead to a date, but we know I'll never do that. And I don't know French anyway."
Michael and Robin started to walk away, when they were stopped by a sudden voice.
"I speak English you know," a French sounding voice said in English.
Michael turned around and saw the woman he just ran into offer a sly smile.
"I'm Stacey," she said as she offered her hand to shake. "Nice to meet you."
Just hearing that name made him smile. He returned the handshake and they began to talk.
~ ~
Any WFWF viewer knows that there have been a lot of titles in this company's history. Within the sheer number of them, most have completely and totally useless. Nobody is really clambering for the return of the Young Gunn Title or the Internet Title, for instance, because those belts never meant anything to begin with. And apparently the tag titles don't any more, either.
There are only a few select titles in the history of this company that have truly meant a lot. And through an evolution of sorts, only those truly important titles remain. There's a very select few and they don't have demeaning names like the Ham Shank Title or focus on a useless niche like the Hardcore X Title. All that's left is the National, International and WFWF Title.
I've actually never held the National Title before, one of the few titles I've never even fought for in my grand slam career. And that's because I, well to be honest, catapulted myself so far up the card that I just skipped that step entirely.
But for a lot of guys, that is an important step. For the up and coming stars of the WFWF, the National is of great importance. Right there is a step to rise above the pack and get your fist taste of gold. Future legends like Master of Destruction and Trace Demon. If you want to know who might be a big star some day, it's a pretty safe bet to take a look at the National Title scene for some answers.
But as important as that title is, the International Title is so much bigger. To reach that level, you must be an elite wrestler in this company. To hold that title means that you have made it and, more often that not, there are bigger things ahead of you. The number of guys who have gone from holding this title to the World Title is immense, including yours truly.
So it should come as no surprise that this International Title Tournament has been so hard fought with so much competition. Everyone was willing to do anything to get this title and fight with all they had to make it to the finals. And now, at Scars & Stripes, we've reached that point finally.
From the start, I was the odd man out in this tournament. Every other guy was following the typical path to the International Title. They were all making their way up to heights they had never been to before, to reach an ever higher level. And that's the way it goes for most of these International Title winners.
And then there's me, a guy who's done it all, scratching and crawling his way back to a title and a level he once passed by. Most people would tell you I deserve to have to earn that spot again, since my time has passed me by and I'm just running on fumes.
You know what? I'm goddamn sick and tired of being treated like a fossil and people acting like I have nothing left. Since the day I came back, no matter how many people I beat, I'm still looked down on. How much more do I need to do to get the respect I deserve, and to show all you people just how good I am?
The time to shut everyone up is right here in front of us. I plan on winning both matches that night, earning myself both the International Title and the main event of Superbrawl. And I can't wait for you all to see how easy it's gonna be. As a matter of fact, this might my easiest match in quite some time.
At least the other guys I had to face in the tournament actually had an original thought in their head. They weren't mindless sheep brainwashed to do whatever they were told. That's the kind of guy I'm facing in the finals, in the form of Mr. Demento.
What exactly do I have to be afraid of, pray tell? Why should I be the least bit worried about facing a guy who is nothing more than a weak coward? I don't care how you explain it or justify it, anyone that allows themselves to be completely brainwashed is an empty vessel that is incredibly weak.
There's nothing to fear in a person that has no backbone whatsoever can be exploited any way someone else sees fit. And Demento, that's precisely what you are. There's nothing in there any more, and there sure as hell is nothing there that I can't combat.
I've made some important revelations about myself recently, and not all of them are things I'm proud of. One of those things is how often and how well I can exploit people. It's how I made my life and my career.
And while I'm not planning on doing that to people in my life any more, I have no problems doing so in the ring. That's where exploitation has some value.
My whole career has been spent exploiting weaknesses in that ring to get wins and obtain titles. And Demento, it's been against a lot tougher than you. It's not even a level of talent, either. Those guys weren't effectively brain dead. You're already being exploited right now, Demento. And you have no idea how easy it will be for me to exploit someone as weak an empty as you. Tie one arm behind my back and I'll still do it.
For all of you doubters about how much I have left, you all better take notice at Scars & Stripes. What I'm about to do shouldn't be a surprise to any of you. I'm going to do what I always have done. I'm going to exploit the weak, win a title and seen myself the main event spot at Superbrawl.
I'm going to show all of you that I'm still the best.
