| Looking Forward, Not Back; Showdown #34 - RP #1 | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jul 25 2008, 07:36 AM (128 Views) | |
| The Preacherman | Jul 25 2008, 07:36 AM Post #1 |
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sVo Contender
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The evening air is thick and muggy, garnering the ever-so-slight breeze a wide-armed welcome from all that feel its touch. The thrift store curtain dances in and out as if enchanted by some magical mamba off in the distance, but in reality, it is just the aforementioned breeze blowing in through the wide open apartment window. The inside of the cramped apartment isn’t much to look at, as the pale orange glow of the street light outside makes visible the beverage cans strewn across the floor, and the numerous half eaten microwaveable dinners piled up on the makeshift coffee table. At the moment, the apartment is empty, but that soon changes as the arrival of the apartments owner is announced by the creaking of the front door as it opens. The scene shifts across the room to the door, and in walks Billy Jacobs. He is dressed in his normal out-of-ring attire, except that he doesn’t seem to be wearing his usual religious themed T-shirt. Instead, he has on a plain black collared golf shirt to go along with his grungy, faded blue jeans. Jacobs walks into his home away from home, looking around in disgust. This isn’t exactly his idea of high standard living, but it’s the best he can afford as he does the Lord’s work in the wrestling industry. Jacobs gently closes the door behind him, then makes his way over to his refrigerator; grocery bag in hand. The ancient looking appliance looks to be on its last legs as it clunks and groans; trying to keep what little food is kept inside cool. Jacobs carefully opens up the freezer door, and starts to pile in more microwaveable dinners, grumbling to himself as he does so. Billy Jacobs: “I can’t believe I work in Las Vegas, and these so-called ‘Hungry Man’ dinners are the best food I can afford.” The thought of his current situation runs circles in Jacobs’ head, causing him to slam the door shut in a sudden fit of rage. The entire fridge shakes, and momentarily loses power. However, a swift kick to the side finds it in full operation once more. With his weeks worth of dinners properly stored, Jacobs makes his way through the pale orange garbage heap, and slumps down on his couch. The 'Brown Beast', as he calls it, had belonged to his parents for as long as he could remember. They had let him take it with him when he moved away, much to his delight. He had always found it more comfortable to sleep on than any bed he had ever owned. As he sits there on the couch, he scans the room slowly, make small mental notes of things he should do to spruce the place up. However, with all the recent events in his life, home repairs were the least of his concerns. With a sudden burst of interest and inspiration, Jacobs leans over and grabs what must be the most expensive item in the apartment… his laptop computer. With haste, he opens it up and taps the power button. The insides whirl with power and noise as the contraption comes to life, but the load time is almost unbearable for Jacobs, who is in a rush for some reason. Finally, the desktop appears, and Jacobs goes right for hi Internet browser. He slides his finger across the scroll pad, clicking on the ‘Favorites’ tab, and scrolls down to none other than the official sVo fan site. His eyes widen and grow with intrigue as he finds an article about his soon-to-be opponent, Nathan Paradine. Jacobs quickly goes to the article and begins to read it. As he scans down through the article, he finds several comments made in reference to him. The look on Jacobs face says it all, but he can’t contain himself. Billy Jacobs: “Nathan Paradine thinks I’m too concerned with the International Title? He thinks that I will overlook and underestimate him? Poor Paradine… he truly does not know what he is in for. Granted, the International Title is high on my priority list, and it is true that Kaden Alonzo has had me off my game the past few weeks… but right now, I believe I am thinkin’ clearer than ever.” Jacobs stops reading for a moment, and sets the laptop down beside him. He reaches forward and picks up a half finished cup of coffee from the table in front of him. He holds it up to his lips, but before a single drop of the day-old, room temperature brew can touch his lips, he pulls it away. The mere scent of the long past refreshing beverage is enough to turn his stomach. Shaking his head, Jacobs then tosses the cup over his shoulder, letting it smash against wall. Billy Jacobs: “Ever since I woke up in that pitch black room after Countdown to Violence, I knew that I’d been going about things the wrong way. I was so busy abidin’ by the Will of God, that I didn’t stop to realize that takin’ care of myself was part-and-parcel to takin’ care of the Lord’s work. Treat your body as a temple to the Lord. What kind of a temple gets kidnapped, locked away, and ransomed?” Jacobs looks down at the laptop beside him, and picks it up once again. Billy Jacobs: “That is why I’ve decided to put the Lord’s work on hold for the time bein’, and take care of myself. With this new focus, I can look forward to each week, and prepare for what lies ahead of me. I know Kaden Alonzo will always be there, waitin’ for his chance to wreck havoc on my soul, but I also know that there will always be someone in the ring, waitin’ to take me on. This week, that person is Nathan Paradine. Now I find it funny that he says I’m not focusin’ on him. Rest assured Nathan, you are my foremost concern this Sunday. I have a plan set in motion to alleviate me from such worries as Alonzo, or any titles. Trust me, you have my utmost attention. But you Paradine… are you certain you are ready for me. It seems that I’m not the only man on your mind these days. Does the name Cody Ross ring a bell? I’m sure it does. He’s the man you’ll be facin’ at Shadows of Power. He’s the man that has found himself bound to you for the past… oh… I don’t know how long. The history between you too… it’s enough to fill at least two Bibles.” As Jacobs continues to talk, he splits his attention between his words and the laptop. He moves the cursor down to the task bar at the bottom, clicking on his AIM application. The program’s login script appears in the middle of the screen, and Jacobs turns his attention away from his current thought processes, and concentrates to remember his login information, as it’s been a long time since he has used the program. Billy Jacobs: “Username… lets see… ah yes… preacher6669.” He types in the username, but is momentarily stumped when it comes to the password. Billy Jacobs: “Son-of-a… I can never remember… oh wait… I use the same password for everythin’.” This time, Jacobs says the password to himself, as you never know who may be listening. Jacobs types in the password, crossing his fingers in hopes that he has got it right on the first try. After a moment, the computer begins to whirl and calculate… SUCCESS… login accepted. Billy Jacobs: “I wonder if Mom is online… haven’t talked to her in ages…” Jacobs waits in anticipation as his buddy list loads. However, to his dismay, his mother is not online. Billy Jacobs: “Oh well… now where was I?” Jacobs thinks back to his thoughts before the whole AIM login predicament. Nathan Paradine… Cody Williams… the other feud involved in his match this coming Sunday. Billy Jacobs: “If this match took place last week, I would say that you and I had a lot in common, Nathan. Both of us preoccupied with other agendas… not givin’ each other the attention we should. Alas, this week that is not the case. My mind is on nothin’ but the future, and you my friend are a part of that future. While you’ll be lookin’ over your shoulder at every turn, my sights will be set straight ahead. Nothin’ will stand in my way… nothin’ will diminish the fact that I am the future of the sVo… nay… the world. Whether your defeat is the Will of the Lord, or of my own is of no consequence of mine. Either way, this Sunday… Cody Williams and the hatred between the two of you will be the least of your worries. That’s all there is to it.” With that being said, Jacobs, once again, sets the laptop down beside him. For the first time since he arrived home, Jacobs notices the unbearable humidity in the apartment, and wipes a tiny bead of sweat from his brow. Looking over at the wide-open window, he realizes the cool breeze coming in is of little solace in this time of overwhelming heat. Jacobs quickly hops to his feet, nearly knocking his prized computer to the floor. With a look of worry, he watches as the laptop teeters on the edge of the couch, finally finding its balance, and sliding safely back onto the couch. With yet another crisis adverted, Jacobs makes his way through the livingroom area, and clambers into his small, yet manageable bathroom. From this angle, Jacobs can’t be seen directly, but his reflection is visible in the small medicine cabinet mirror above the sink. As he pulls his collared shirt up over his head, bruises and scraps can be seen covering his back; a painful reminder of his chosen profession, and the recent actions of his would-be captors. The sound of running water can be heard moments before Jacobs finally closes the bathroom door behind him. Soon enough, steam begins to trail out from under the door, accompanied by the scent of Old Spice body wash. Across the room, a small message window appears on Jacobs computer screen. Agent009 has sent you an IM Agent009: hey rev, you there? Agent009: listen man, i know you’ve been bummed out ever since the kaden alonzo thing started, and i just want you to know that I have faith in you man, so keep up that faith of yours! Agent009: just wanted to know if we’re still on for that thing this sunday… you know what i’m talking about. so don’t worry about kaden… just meet me before the show and we’ll talk things over. Agent009: see you backstage man The IM notification continues to flash, awaiting Jacobs return to the computer, but for now, Jacobs continues to stand in his shower stall, head leaning against the wall… thinking about Sunday, and what lies ahead. Fade To Black (P.S: I only edited this piece due to found typos and improper coding. I didn't change anything along the lines of content.) Edited by The Preacherman, Jul 25 2008, 07:42 AM.
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![]() "I just kick back and keep warm on the cold days, and laugh cuz it ain't like it was in the old days." - "Wicked & Weird" by Buck 65 | |
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12:55 AM Jul 11