| Covering Ground; Talon Showdown RP 1/1 | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jun 6 2008, 04:04 PM (56 Views) | |
| Talon | Jun 6 2008, 04:04 PM Post #1 |
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The Hero
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Talon tried to shake the pain from his head, but it wouldn’t work. He was in the bathroom of his hotel room in Dublin, Ireland, all showered up and ready to train, complete with black sweatpants. He looked around him as he reached in his green duffle bag for a bottle of aspirin and his grey t-shirt. The paint on the wall seemed to be peeling slightly, like a blue onion. He frowned as he grabbed the bottle and effortlessly popped it open. Grabbing a glass of water, he downed two pills and shook his head again, whipping his hair around with it. “You know why it happened,” he said to his reflection, as he looked into the tired eyes, “You know damn well why it happened. You got cocky. You didn’t prepare for your opponent. You spent all your time getting drunk and watching horror movies. And that didn’t work.” He sighed, brushing the hair out of his eyes as he put the grey tee on. “Now you’re fighting, with and for Ross, against the World Champion and the Hardcore Champion... in your second match. If you blow it... you’re letting him down. You have to go in there and show them that you belong in the main event. You have to show them that you can outfight anyone in the sVo. Anyone.” He smiled. This was not a cause for worrying from him. It was a cause for celebration. His second match, and he would be wrestling the sVo World Champion Psyko Stevo. His best friend at his side, he would be wrestling the man currently considered the best in the world. But not for long. That distinction would soon belong to the man who rightfully possessed it: Alex Ross. And Talon would be the one to help him claim his birthright. All Talon. No hired bodyguards to turn on him for no reason, no greedy agents simply out to protect their own asses. Just Ross and Talon. That’s how it always was, and that’s how it always would be. He knew that Ross would fight tooth and nail to help him any way he could if the roles had been switched. Talon owed his life to him, especially his new life. Speaking of which... His cellphone rang. Not the usual tone he was used to... it wasn’t Judas Priest this time. It was his ring tone from the advertising company he normally worked for. It was then that it hit him. He never told anyone at the advertising company that he would be going to Europe. “Ha, ha, whoops,” he said as a sheepish look crossed his face and his cheeks flushed for a moment. He walked across the plush carpet to the bedside table and pressed ‘Ignore’. “I’ll have to call them later,” he made a mental note to himself. He then had an idea, but chose to make a memo rather than immediately acting on it. Pulling his red velvet-covered notebook and a gel pen, Talon scratched a note to himself on an open page. Call work RE: Commercials. He had just found the way for him and maybe even Ross to speak to their future opponents directly. And it wouldn’t cost them a cent. He smiled, flopping back onto the cushy hotel bed, staring at the ceiling. Then something else hit him. “I’m an idiot!” he said aloud as he sprang to his feet, which was not easy with the bed underneath him, and grabbed his sunglasses from the bedside table, “I should be preparing!” Lacing his ring boots on quickly, Talon bolted from the hotel room, slamming the door behind him as he did. ***** When he got to Lansdowne Road, just a few blocks away from the hotel the sVo wrestlers were staying at, he was all warmed up from the run over. He stretched out his arms and legs as he stood outside the old rugby stadium. He made note that the place didn’t even have a roof. “That’s gonna be tricky,” he said mostly to himself as he looked up and down, “Hopefully it doesn’t rain.” He found his way inside by flashing his sVo pass. “Would you like a tour of the stadium?” the security guard at the door asked. Talon grimaced. “Um, no, that’s alright for now, thanks,” he said as he backed into the actual stadium itself. The field was beautiful. “Mom always said that the grass is greener in Ireland,” he mumbled, smiling to himself, “God damn it all, she was right too.” As he walked up to the ring, he noticed that they were still trying to put up the floor over the field, so that they could move seating into the majority of the field without harming the grass. Some foreman was arguing into a radio about it, and Talon could only imagine that President Paige Johnson would be making an appearance at some point. Some of the newer signings were practicing in the ring when Talon dropped his duffle bag next to the nearest ring step and gingerly stepped up. “You boys need any help training?” he asked as he stepped through the ring ropes. “Well, look who it is,” the trainer said, sweat glistening on his face, which was shining more than the whistle he hung around his neck, “Weren’t you the one that was too good to practice with some newbies last week?” “I was, and for all you know I still am,” answered Talon, sunglasses still hiding his eyes from the glaring morning sun, “Why don’t you just count it among your good graces that a bit of humility’s gotten into me this week?” The trainer coughed loudly and obnoxiously. Talon looked the rotund little man up and down, trying to pinpoint a weakness. “Humility in the form of a piledriver, maybe,” the trainer said, and one second later Talon had him by the throat against the ropes. He could sense the trainees coming closer, so he swung his cane around, wavering them off. “I could teach you a little bit of humility,” he said, inching closer, “It’d be easy. But do you really need to be pulverized in front of your students? Is that what you really want? I’m fighting two champions in a few days, I’m sure compared to them you’ll be easy.” There was a seriousness in Talon’s voice. The trainer struggled a little under his grip. Talon dropped the cane and used the now-free hand to remove his sunglasses, so that he was now looking the trainer right in the eyes. “This is really the opportunity of a lifetime for you, isn’t it?” the trainer asked, his tone softening. Talon loosened his hold. “Yes,” he answered, nodding, “It is. And I plan on pouncing on the opportunity.” The trainer smiled as the color returned to his sweaty face. “Well then,” he said, “Let’s get to it. We have a long day ahead of us. Get to the weight training room first, before you practice against a live opponent.” Talon relaxed for a second, releasing the trainer from his grip, before putting his sunglasses back on, picking his cane up’., from the mat, and walking to the weight room, swinging it around in his hand as he walked. ***** One. He brought the dumbbell back down to his chest before raising it again. Two. Again. Thoughts began to cross his mind... a great swirling vortex of purple... a man dressed in gold, carrying a royal flush of playing cards... two great falcons, one the color of the sun, the other of the leaves on the trees, locked in battle with an unseen enemy... Three. Once more. He could see himself now, leaning against the ring ropes. Around him, fans cheered and booed at the same time. Across from him... he didn’t know. An opponent that he did not recognize... or did he? Around his opponent’s waist... the sVo World Heavyweight Championship. He continued doing benchpresses, until he decided enough was enough. He leaned his head back on the comfortable bench and let out a whistle. Stevo... Equinox... You may not know who I am, you may not know what I’m worth. You may not even know you have an opponent this week that isn’t Alex Ross. But I swear... come Showdown... you will know my name. You all will know my name. |
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8:38 AM Jul 11