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The Representative; RP #1
Topic Started: Mar 2 2010, 06:16 AM (48 Views)
Joof
sVo Champion
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Could it be true?

That was the thought echoing around in the confines of my skull, tormenting me through the day and keeping me awake at night, responsible for my return to the sand-blasted hell hole known as Las Vegas, Nevada. That thought was the reason I was sitting here now, in the air-conditioned eatery located just off the foyer of the Goodfellas Casino. The remains of a meal (steak, medium-rare, with a side salad and a single baked potato with a glass of red wine to accompany the dish) are scattered across the plate in front of me, however my attention is centered on the papers in my hands, specifically the title.

Sanctioned Violence Organization Talent Application

Hands trembling, I read over the papers with a sort of glee, resisting the urge to shout and whoop at the news. It had been well over a year since the sVo had closed down and in that time I had been very busy. I’d jumped to the Hostility Wrestling Federation and almost immediately claimed the Aversion Championship, solidifying my status as a top competitor. However, over the next ten months, I encountered many bumps in my career, both personal and professional. Perhaps the pinnacle of my success outside the sVo was winning the Hostility World Heavyweight Championship, one of the most prestigious prizes in wrestling at the time. I’d only held the belt for a week before it had been stripped away, but I’d still been on top for a gloriously short time.

It’s a good thing that this happened when it did.

I scowled briefly as that thought crept into my head. Things hadn’t been going exactly, well, well, recently. As soon as Hostility had closed down, I’d promptly gone to DREAM Wrestling to try and negotiate a return. That had fallen through after only a couple of matches and I’d been forced to sell the Japanese dojo I’d inherited from my mentor to pay off several outstanding debts. Then, with barely a penny to my name, no job and a sense of despair sinking in, I’d been invited out here to Vegas for a lunch with a representative of the “new” sVo. We’d dined, we’d spoken and the representative, well-dressed in an Armani suit, had slipped off the sunglasses that had been obscuring his identity throughout lunch and said those words, the words I’d already decided I’d agree to.

“So, Mr. Paradine... Do we have a deal?”

The representative had reacted with pleasure and immediately negotiated the terms of my sVo contract. Accommodation had been taken care of; I’d be housed here, in the Goodfellas Casino, for the time being. The mysterious “company” that the representative worked for would see to all my costs for the time being, something that I was grateful for. However, as he’d stood up to leave, the representative had beckoned me to lean forward. Obliging him, he knelt down and whispered into my ear.

“Nathan... The Company needs you to do something in return for all the kindnesses they’ve shown you. The Company... wants you to win. Do you think you can manage that?”

“Manage to win?” I’d murmured. “Listen to me, friend. I’m Nathan Paradine. I’m the very best in the world at what I do and that is make people tap out from the pain of my submission holds. I was a two time... two-time... Hostility Aversion Champion. The only two-time champion, apart from James Milenko. I trust you know about Hostility, right? Then you’ll know about the kind of talent I beat to win those titles. Cody Williams. Kathryn Velmont-Thomas. I even beat Chris Bond, arrogant wanker that he is, and won one million dollars. Now, I don’t know about you, but I think that my successes speak for themselves. You want me to win? I’m going to do more than that. I’m going to dominate this place.”

The representative had simply chuckled and clapped me on the shoulder, amused by my words. Pulling his fedora hat lower over his face he spoke again in a slow murmur, his eyes unreadable behind tinted sunglasses.

“That’s excellent to hear, Nathan. I’m glad that your competitive drive is still intact, especially over so much... hardship. Losing your parents, sister and ex-wife in less than five years would push most people well and truly over the edge. But you... well, you’re standing here today, healthy and ready for action. The Company... We’d feared that maybe you’d gone soft. You certainly spent a lot of time with your ex-wife before her... *ahem*... accident at the hands of Xander Daniels. Very protective of her.”

His words went unheard as memories flooded back to me, memories I’d done my best to suppress ever since last November. Strands of dark hair splashed across my pillow, a single beam of dawn sunlight illuminated her sleeping face... Smiling at me over a cafe table in Paris, the smile I’d fallen for time and time again, cherry red lips parting to show the whites of her teeth... Hugging close to me as we’d walked down that narrow street, everything else pushed to the back of my mind. There had only been her. There had only been-

“Emily,” I’d said softly. “Her name was Emily. And yes, I was protective of her, more protective than was likely necessary. She was more than capable of handling herself around the louts in the locker room. And yes, for a time I was a little lost. But I’m fine now, really. I’m ready to look forward to the future and a new start with the sVo.”

Of course, I had neglected to mention that “lost” had involved copious amounts of illegal narcotics, a lot of alcohol and several women looking for their fifteen minutes of fame. It had been like that for a month, with the wild binge starting with alcohol in the early evening, moving onto various bright pills and occasionally cocaine around midnight and then wild sex until the early hours of the morning. After that I’d usually kick whichever woman I’d taken to bed with me out, then go and sit in the bath and sob for several hours. The cycle had continued until Christmas Day, when I’d finally gone to visit Emily’s grave. I’d placed flowers on her grave and stood in the chill wind for almost an hour before walking back to my rented apartment and promptly flushing my pills down the toilet and pouring my alcohol down the sink. It had been time to get my life back on track.

“Very good, Nathan. Now, I’m sure you were privy to the unfortunate death of Alex Ross in 2008, right? Such a sad affair, he was a brilliant man. Deranged, but brilliant. Anyway, my bosses have decided to hold a memorial tournament in his memory to determine the new sVo World Heavyweight Champion. As soon as you’ve signed along the dotted line, you’ll be placed into a contender’s bracket against another new sVo signee.”

That was interesting. I’d been well aware of how Alex Ross had ended his life and the circumstances surrounding his suicide. Privately, I had thought it was an affair better left dead and buried, especially since it had involved a young child. But, it wasn’t my place to question how the world title would be decided. No, it wouldn’t be my place until the title belt was safely strapped around my waist. Then I’d have a say in what happened to the belt. I’d smirked at the thought.

“Do you have any ideas of who I’ll be booked against?” I’d wondered and the representative nodded curtly.

“Another guy we’re in negotiations with. His name is Raven and he’s some kind of big deal. Nine year veteran and he likes to make ‘em bleed like a stuck pig. In addition to that, he’s got a bunch of buddies backing him up. The Corporation, that’s what they’re called.” The representative chuckled softly. “Like I said Nathan, don’t focus on who your opponent is. Just focus on beating him, alright? Prove to The Company that they didn’t make a mistake when they took a chance on you.”

And that had been the end of that particular conversation. The representative had left soon afterwards, leaving me with my thoughts and the necessary forms to sign. Once again I read the title, breathing slowly.

Sanctioned Violence Organization Talent Application

“Oh, my dear,” I muttered softly as I searched my jacket for a pen. I pulled a fountain pen out of my pocket and held it up, scrawling my signature across the page. “Nathan Paradine is coming back home... And he’s on the hunt for some title gold!”
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