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Here We Go Again; Showdown RP 1/2
Topic Started: Jul 17 2008, 11:06 PM (233 Views)
Talon
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The Hero
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
It was a sunny Monday morning in Las Vegas, right around breakfast time. A clock on the faded red wall read 10:03, and a very exhausted Talon stepped onto the linoleum floor in his kitchen, yawning and stretching his arms. He smacked his lips a couple of times before lazily looking around. Seated at his kitchen table, with a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios planted in front of him, was a five year-old kid.

The boy ruffled his dirty blond hair and glanced curiously over at the sVo star, who was dressed in a blue set of fine silk pajamas. His hazel eyes shone with the television's reflection. A cheerio slid down to his chin from his mouth as he looked Talon up and down. “Good morning,” he said, before turning his attention back to the television.

“Good morning, Trenton,” Talon said as he sat down and looked at the T.V., reaching for the remote, “I see you found Nickelodeon.”

“Yeah,” the little boy said as he picked up a wrestling action figure, one of Talon, and smacked it against the table, causing the real life edition to cringe.

So I didn't technically have the kid's father's permission to meander off with him from the hospital, Talon thought to himself as he poured a big bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios, Travis Williams is no condition to take care of this child... It would have been horrible for him to see his father like that. It would eat me up inside, at least. And besides, who else would take care of him? Faith Winchester would have just taken him out for some Coyote Ugly action.

To be honest with himself, Talon wasn't really sure why he had signed the child out from the hospital. It was for the child's best interest, sure. And Talon had gone twenty-eight years of his life without meeting 'the one', so he had no real opportunities to create a child of his own. He smirked, taking that back and correcting himself. Marriage wasn't necessary for children. But he did what he felt was right, and he didn't feel it would be right to have a child out of anything other than love. He had always liked hanging out with little kids when he was younger. For some reason it made him feel younger.

He looked back to the little boy. He was half his height, and abusing a miniature version of himself. “So... you like wrestling, right?” he asked, trying desperately to connect with the kid.

“Yeah,” Trenton said, slamming the Talon action figure, “You like wrestling too, right? You said you work with my dad. Are you a wrestler?” Talon felt a cold shiver run down his spine. A lump began to form in his throat, causing him to gulp to clear it.

“Eh... something like that,” he said, smiling. He couldn't bring himself to reveal who he was to this kid. He thought everything was real, that people like him really walked around with their faces painted all day. Also, he wasn't sure he could bring himself to let the kid know that he was the one that defeated his father only a couple of weeks before. He had been watching that one, front row and center.

“But yeah,” he said, running his hand through his hair, “I like wrestling a lot.” He breathed a sigh of relief as Trenton turned back to his cartoons and cheerios.

Talon walked away, before going to his room and changing into his best business-casual attire. He was buttoning up the silky short-sleeved dress shirt as his phone started ringing once again. Looking on the display, he saw that it was from his assistant, Brian.

“Yeah,” he said, flipping it open.

“I saw that you've had a child left in your care,” Brian's voice came through the other end, “How in the hell did someone trust you with their kid?”

“Heh, I don't know man,” Talon said, smiling as he looked at himself in the mirror, “But listen... I kind of forwarded all my calls over to the office, did I get anything?” He could hear Brian shuffling through some papers on the other end and clicking through some files on the computer.

“Actually, you do have a phone call or two,” Brian said as a beeping noise went off on the other side of the phone, “One from this 'Clarence Wedretti' guy about the interview for your little charity today.”

“What did he say?” Talon asked, slightly concerned, “He didn't cancel or anything, did he? I can't be apologizing to the people of Las Vegas for my behavior every week because those uppity conservatives attack my charity.” There was a chuckle on the other end, as Brian had been working on ways to manage his stress. Apparently allowing himself to fully react to his employer was one of them.

“Well, sir, maybe if your charity wasn't for the whores of Vegas...” he said, still chuckling aloud.

“Well then what should it be for, Brian?” Talon asked with a hint of irritation in his voice as he combed his hair back, “People want to do charities for the little guy... well I'm doing a charity for the littlest guy of all. The strippers and prostitutes of Las Vegas, and eventually maybe even the world. Nobody cares about them until you've sat down and actually talked to one of them.”

“Oh, speaking of which,” Brian said, the noise of shuffling papers again coming through the receiver, “Liliana sent a letter, asking how you are and if you could maybe fly her up here. She's been watching you every week, and says that she can't wait to watch you in the main event soon. Also says good luck against Vorheez this week, yadda yadda yadda.”

“Vo-Vorheez?” Talon's mind paused as Brian continued.

“As for your other call...” he said, ignoring his employer for the moment, “Alex Ross called, asking and I quote, where the fuck are you, you always answer your phone what gives, I need to talk to you about something call me back. He sounded a little irritated.”

Talon let it process through his mind. Ross was actually calling him now? Normally it was the other way around.

“Yeah...” he said, “I'll have to call him back later. Anyway, I'm facing who this week?”

“Uhh... let me check,” Brian said, and instantly the sound of a clacking keyboard could be heard, “Uh, yeap. William Vorheez. Kind of scary looking. Looks like it's going to be tough.”

Talon gulped and closed his eyes as Brian continued. “I mean, that being said, last week you fought that guy who was like top ranked or something, and last night you fought that guy with the hair like that little girl from The Ring. This guy can't be too special... I mean, a last name like Vorheez. Guy like scary movies much?” Talon winced as the memories flooded through his head.

He had passed through the green lights, making his entrance onto the stage that had seemed made for him. All butterflies had left his stomach at that moment, replaced by cool cockiness. He had looked down the ramp at his opponent as he swallowed hard and reached up, feeling a bead of sweat trickling from his hair line.

Ding.

Ding.

Ding.

And just like that, it had begun... he had worked as fast as he could, as hard as he could... and still. He leaped into the air, and just like that. A kick to the gut. A ride into the air on the other man's shoulders. A sudden downward movement, followed by a sharp pain and the cold embrace of unconsciousness.

One.

Two.

Three.

And just like that... done. He had lost. He hadn't taken his opponent seriously. He made jokes about his name. He had watched horror movies to prepare for a wrestling match.

“Never again,” he mumbled into the phone as his eyebrows narrowed.

“What? Never again?” Brian said, confusion abound in his voice.

“Hmm... nothing. It's nothing,” Talon said, his voice trailing off, “Just... don't underestimate the guy. He's... dangerous.”

Talon blinked, looking at the television in his room.

“I've been keeping track of the guy, too,” he said, gulping, “He's like the new Satan or something! This shit just got real, Brian.” There was a small pause at the other end.

“What.” That was all Brian could say. Talon supposed that he had literally broken his assistant's will to fight against him.

“Seriously,” Talon said, putting his exaggerated serious voice on display, “He could like, command the demons of hell to kill me, or something. I'm pretty sure that Satan has the power to taint your soul for all time.”

“I... I... yep.” That was the indicator. Talon had successfully broken Brian Snow's mind into two. “I have to go... I'll let you know later if anyone calls.”

“Yeah, take some aspirin,” he said encouragingly, “It'll clear your head and take out the pain that the bad thoughts bring.” He smiled, holding back a chuckle.

“Yeah...” Brian said, his mind seeming to trail off, “Don't forget about that guy coming for the interview... he should be there soon... and good luck with the kid.”

“Yeah, thanks... bye Brian.”

Click.

Just like that, Brian had gone off, hopefully to catch some rest.

Talon smiled, flipping the shiny black phone shut effortlessly, as he sat up off of his bed and walked into the next room.

Trenton was still in the kitchen, his eyes clinging to the latest episode of Spongebob Squarepants. Talon sat down at the stool next to him and watched some animated buffoonery for a moment, before turning to the five year-old and smiling. “So... you like Spongebob, huh?”

“Yeah.” Talon looked around, looking for something.

“And you like wrestling...”

“Yeah.” His eyes hadn't settled on anything yet, and he was starting to get desperate to find something to talk to this little kid about.

“So... who's your favorite wrestler?” he asked, before realizing how dumb the question was.

“My daddy,” Trenton said, his eyes sparkling as he said the obvious answer.

“Do you like any other wrestlers?” Talon asked, nudging the action figure with his namesake.

“Yeah they're okay,” Trenton said as he turned his attention back to the cartoons, “They have some pretty amazing colors, and the moves, and stuff, yeah.”

“Yeah?” Talon asked, “What do you think of that guy who fought your dad a couple weeks ago? Talon?”

“With the green and the jacket?” Trenton asked, his eyes continuing to sparkle with curiosity, “Yeah he's okay. He's not as good as Daddy though.”

Talon smiled. “I'll tell Talon you said that,” he said, a little red tint to his cheeks, “You can have that action figure if you want.”

Trenton dragged the Talon action figure across the table and held it up, pretending to make it fly. “Hey thanks,” he said as he continued to fly the action figure around him.

Suddenly, the doorbell sounded. Talon motioned for Trenton to keep watching his shows as he opened the door.

“Hi!” he heard as he was greeted with the most flamboyant-looking man Talon had ever seen. That was saying a lot, too, as Talon had worked in show business for his whole life, as well as the professional wrestling circuit. One always saw plenty of strange characters, but this guy took the proverbial cake.

He was wearing a silver button-up shirt with long sleeves that were half rolled-up his arms, as well as a shiny pair of black pants that looked very comfortable, yet very tight. Talon was sure that he was looking at a pair of leather pajama pants, as the strange man took a couple more steps into the apartment.

“My name is Clarence Wedretti,” he said, offering a handshake that Talon took slowly, noticing that it was not very firm, “And may I say that I am quite a fan of yours!” He slipped around, admiring the furnishing of the apartment.

“Is that so?” Talon said, motioning to Trenton to get out of the room. He nodded and ran off, Talon action figure in hand. Talon turned to Clarence and smiled as he heard Spongebob Squarepants in his bedroom now, matching the sound of the same show in the kitchen.

“Oh yes,” the other 'man' said as he spun on his heel to face Talon, “I know everything about you, Mr. Rockridge.” Talon's eye twitched a little.

“I... er... it's Talon,” he said through his teeth, “And if you knew everything about me, you'd know how I feel about people calling me by my real name.” Clarence turned to him and tilted his head.

“Oh my god, I'm sorry,” he said, frowning, “I didn't know that, you're right. I am sorry-”

“Say the first name and you're fired immediately, and I throw you out the window,” Talon said, his face indicating that he meant it. Clarence gulped, as a fall down all ten stories of the building would not end particularly well for him.

“So then,” Talon said, putting his hands behind his head and pacing around the living room, “What is it that you think you have that will bring the Talon Vegas Strip Foundation to where it belongs?”

“Well, I love being on top,” Clarence said, winking at a grimacing Talon, “But seriously, I really get what you're doing. Fighting for the littlest guy of all... besides, anyone who's seen Pretty Woman gets that these whores have hearts of gold!” Clarence raised his fist into the air exaggeratedly.

“And strippers, strippers need their healthcare!” he said, “And... and... I was hoping that some of the money from this foundation might benefit the male strippers and the male prostitutes... someone has to look out for them too.” Talon nodded, an amused look in his eyes.

“I see what you're saying...” he said, continuing to nod, “And you certainly seem passionate enough. What the hell... let's try you out. I'll email you some stuff, Mr. Snow got your email address for me. We'll keep in touch, and congratulations.”

He held his hand out, and a visibly excited, yet silent, Clarence Wedretti grasped it loosely, shaking it vigorously.

“You won't be disappointed, Mr...” he paused for a second, remembering the rule, “Mr. Talon!”

And just like that, Clarence Wedretti passed out of the apartment, a skip in his step and, if Talon saw correctly, a tear in his eye.

Shaking his head, Talon turned back toward his bedroom. “You can come back out, Trenton!” he called.

A confused-looking five year-old boy walked back into the kitchen area. Talon looked at him and smiled as he raised a bottle of water to his lips. Setting his new Talon action figure on the table, he turned around.

“Was that...” he started, stammering, his shiny eyes concentrated on the ground, “Was that a faggot?”

Talon promptly spit out all the water that was in his mouth and watched in slow-motion as it flew across the room.

“Trenton,” he said in between coughs, “Don't... don't say that, Trenton.” The frustrated child kicked the table and grunted.

“Fine...” he said as an exasperated Talon struggled to catch his breath between coughing and laughter.

I really need to go back to church... he thought as he looked around him through the tears in his eyes, Might do me some good to get some religious perspective with all this going down.
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Talon
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