Post by Lord Hastings on Aug 15, 2014 7:10:47 GMT -5
Hastings: I’m not joining your fucking team either.
Travis Roberts looks up with jubilation as Donovan steps into his locker room.
Roberts - ‘You came!’
Hastings: Stop it. I know you’ve been begging everybody you can get to listen to you for longer than two seconds to please please please join your team at Outlast. If you really thought you had a shot at me doing it, you’re crazier than I thought.
Roberts - ‘Join...no, of course not. You have to defend your title in the main event, I wouldn’t want you to jeopardize that by having to participate in a qualifier on my behalf.’
Hastings: Then what is this about?
Roberts - ‘I...’
Hastings: You know, you have some ugly ass lamps.
Roberts - ‘I’m not responsible for the decorum of a locker room in the UGWC arena.’
Hastings: That’s another thing, from what I hear, everything I just “I, I, I’ with you now, isn’t it? Before it was just “Blessed One this” and “Headliner that” but now you don’t want to leave any doubt in anybody’s mind that it’s all about you, is that it?
Travis stares at his estranged friend for a moment.
Roberts - ‘What did I do to you?’
Hastings: You were dragging the group down. Dead weight, had to let you go. Good business.
Roberts - ‘No...no. What did I do to you?’
Hastings: You really need me to tell you what you did to me?
Roberts - ‘I think you owe me that.’
Hastings: I don’t owe you a damn thing. You know what happened in my life over a year ago, Travis? My daughters were born. My twins. Do you even know that happened? They were born. We had a coming home part when they left the hospital. You weren’t there. They were baptized. You weren’t there. You haven’t come to see them once. We never even hear from you.
Roberts - ‘Not true, I spoke with Cal yesterday.’
Hastings: You texted her begging her to get me to come meet you here after Synergy. You want to know what you did, Travis? You’re a lousy friend.
Travis - ‘I...’
He hesitates as Donovan glares at him. Travis turns around and produces a wrapped box, which he extends to Donovan.
Roberts - ‘I got you this.’
Donovan stares at it in his hands.
Hastings: You’re unbelievable.
Donovan turns around and leaves. The upper body of Travis Roberts visibly sinks. He starts to sit down, when Donovan barges back into the room, snatches the gift out of his hands, and storms out again.
Travis Roberts sits back down, alone.
It took longer than it should have, but I’m finally the person with the target on my back again. I admit that there were moments that I thought this day would never come.
Nine different people held the World Title ten different times over three and a half years since the previous time it was rightfully around my waist. During that time I endured a war with Alex Kiseragi, educated the next generation of the industry in the Dungeon of Pain, put down the insurrection of Ezekiel Pax, and nearly had my career ended by Zane Scott. I managed to reprioritize my life and find a genuine happiness in places and avenues that I never would have expected.
I deserve this.
Winning the World Heavyweight Title at Infinity was validation for what has become a journey that was years in length. My championship reign has proven to be longer than any in history, with the exception of that bearded jackyl a few years back, and that really was an aberration that should be in another category altogether, stricken from history.
Four times they have tried to take it from me, four times have they failed. That’s more than Deimos in his supposed “Year of Fear” or whatever he called it. More than Somers was able to accomplish in two reigns combined. More than both Morgans combined. More than Zane Scott.
I am the greatest World Heavyweight Champion in history.
So now I’m standing on the seventy-second floor in the Executive Conference Room, I think it’s Room A for Accomplished, with the group of people who are going to keep it that way.
Dirge: Welcome gentlemen. It's a pleasure to have you all here. Even you Mr. Ingalls.
They’re all sitting around the table, Vain, Remi, Ichabod, and for some reason I’ll have to pretend I was listening to when it was explained, the trainer. Dirge reminds us why we’re all here, probably a good idea since I’ve noticed these people seem to have short attention spans.
Damarest pushes Dirge’s button, and we get a picture of Sister Morgan on the screen.
Dirge: Eden.
Ichabod jumps in right away, the first to offer his “insight” on the topic. He’s just happy we finally included him. Personally, I think since I’m the World Champion, my vote should count double. Nah, that probably wouldn’t be fair. It should count triple.
I should probably jump in as soon as his mouth stops moving.
Hastings: She's overrated tripe. She couldn't get the job done last year at Outlast, she couldn't beat me at No Holds Barred, it's time that everybody saw her for the propped-up cardboard that she is.
Vain uses more words than necessary to tell me I amused him. Just laugh like a normal person, you freaking weirdo. I think back on all the time I invested in getting Travis to stop referring to himself in the third person around me, and how that worked out, and I don’t have the time or energy to go through that again with this guy.
Crap, everybody is laughing at something now. Okay, I’ll laugh too.
Dirge: We’re in agreement about Eden and body parts that can be pressed against her. I’ve also got this cane here, and think about what it can do to her end.
Or something like that. I should jump back in here, seems to be getting off-track.
Hastings: Don't forget that she has that drooling puppy dog Pierce following her around, anchored to her leg. That's baggage.
Dirge: Indeed. One of us needs to be the car that hits her new puppy and puts him out of our collective misery. That should send her completely over the edge.
Is Remi playing with a fucking nipple ring?
Remi: Cajun Nonsense.
Dirge: Do explain.
Remi: Lots of Cajun Nonsense.
...what?
Dirge: Yes. Remi has an excellent point.
Oh, fuck you.
Dirge: Every time that Eden gets into trouble, Pierce practices being fruity about it until she has bitten him. Budding love is so useful.
Pierce is Kiseragi? Wait, no, they hated each other. I’m so confused.
Dirge: Moving on from one type of unstable to another...Zane Scott.
Vain: Is he still going by ‘Lord of the Flies’?
Are you shitting me? After everything I had to put up with from Zane last year, he’s stealing the Lord moniker? I mean, when is it going to be enough?
It doesn’t help that Zane managed to win this tournament last year. There is something to be said for that sort of experience. Like he needs that going for him.
Remi: Cajun fire trucks.
Of course, I won this tournament once too. LWF. 2009. Not only did I win the tournament and was the World Champ afterwards, I was also the champion going into it. I’ve retained a title at Outlast. You know who was there, and couldn’t do anything about it? Travis Pierce. Red Fusion. Phrixus Deimos. They all watched it from the back, because they couldn’t even get out of their qualifying rounds. I retained a World Title at Outlast. Nobody has done it since.
Nobody that counts, anyway.
Dirge: We can rectify both what Ichabod said with what you said, David. They are not mutually exclusive.
Shit, I have no idea who we’re talking about.
Dirge: The Legend in his own Mind, Moss Edwards.
Ooh, I got this one.
Hastings: He showed us all he had at Seven Deadly Sins. Edwards is done, he's run out of smoke and mirrors. He's a poor man's puppeteer who has been put to shame by the real thing.
Ichabod: I'm not so sure I agree. This is the man who pulled the wool over all of your eyes as Prince Rudo. A quiet Moss Edwards is a plotting Moss Edwards.
Remi: Cajun Agreement!
Damn straight.
You know what we could probably use? A rally cry. Along the lines of “AVENGERS ASSEMBLE” or something like that, but for the Puppet Masters. So, let’s see...an action verb that starts with P. Plan, we’re sitting here planning. Persuade? We are manipulative bastards, after all. Preserve, we’re all trying to preserve my title reign. Prioritize. Puppetmasters...Prioritize! Probe? It’s Clobbering Time is taken. Twice over. Puppetmasters...PERFORM!!!
That sucks.
Who are we talking about?
Dirge: Somers.
Oh, I have plenty to say here.
Remi: Six Tons of Cajun Nonsense.
Great. I have NO IDEA how to follow that. Way to go, Rems. This is why you got poop diapers launched at your stupid boat.
Dirge: I like where your thought process is.
Of course you do. Dirge mastered comprehending Cajun babble when he was only fifteen, concurrent to his studies on how to decipher the universe by playing a piccallo.
Dirge: Klaus.
Sure, move on from Somers. It’s not like there is anything left to say, really, Remi summed it all up quite nicely. Of course, we could revisit that bullshit stunt he tried to pull a few weeks back, but we all know it was just hot air. Jet Somers is a petulant child that suffers from oppositional defiance combined with zero impulse control. You know, it might actually be worth the accompanying madness to see Jet actually become “the establishment” for a few weeks, if only to see him chase his own tail trying to undermine himself.
I guess it’s possible that Remi actually said some of that.
Dirge: Fusion. Not that I think he's worthy of much discussion.
Now I missed Klaus too. Thanks, REMI.
Vain: The enemy of friends read Fusion’s book.
Hold on, that bastard is published?
Vain: However, he should continue focusing on the Cross-Hemisphere Title, lest he become disappointed when he realizes that he still is not World Title caliber. One day he may be...but Outlast will not be that day.
Hastings: You get too dismissive with Fusion and he'll drop you with that damned Virus of Life. I'm telling you, if we sit here and assume that he's a non-factor that KvK and Somers are going to kick to the curb, it'll bite us in the ass. He's an obsessive idiot with nothing to lose, and we all know how dangerous that can be.
I know better than anyone the threat that Fusion actually represents. Yeah, this guy blows a ton of opportunities, but you know what? He’s STILL held a bunch of championships. He keeps getting himself these opportunities. A stopped clock is still right twice a day. People are going to look at the pairing of Klaus and Jet and assume that one or both of them is going to easily walk on through. Red Fusion has one of the most devastating finishers that I’ve ever had the misfortune of being on the receiving end of, and he can hit it out of nowhere. Is he a child walking around with a loaded handgun? Yeah. And we know how dangerous those can be. You throw in that he’s got Fear in his corner, probably going all Creepy Yoda or something, and that is a wildfire getting ready to spread.
Ichabod: I honestly can't get a handle on him.
That’s what I’m saying, Ichy. See, this is why you’re here.
Oh, they’re talking about Zeke now. Backstabbing shithead.
Remi: Eau de Cajunoise.
Damarest: An excellent suggestion, Remi. I’ll see to it after Outlast.
Stop it, DAVE. You have NO idea what he said either.
Dirge: Roberts.
Wow, everyone got quiet quick.
Vain: Who?
And everybody shares a laugh. I’ll play nice in the sandbox and join in for the sake of unity, but I’m not stupid enough to disregard a man who is a 3-Time former Global Champion, who twice has won Battleground, who just months ago won the Global Challenge.
Who, indeed.
Calypso: It’s a nice gesture.
Donovan and Calypso each carry a baby, both are staring at the wrapped gift sitting on Donovan’s desk.
Calypso: Are you going to open it?
Hastings: I signed off on one of the worst beatings he’s ever gotten in his life.
Calypso: You need to see what it is.
Hastings: ...yeah.
The baby that Donovan cradles starts babbling.
Baby: Duh da DAH da da daa.
Hastings: You think so? I’m pretty sure that’s what Remi said the other day.
He stares at the gift for another moment.
Hastings: Take them out of here. We don’t know what’s in there.
Calypso nods, and extends her free arm towards him.
Calypso: Come here, sweetie. Come to mama.
The child hesitates a moment, looking up at Donovan, but Calypso leans a little further and she reciprocates, reaching back as Calypso takes the infant into her arms, now carrying both babies, one in each arm.
Calypso: Come on, girls. Let’s go see how your Uncle Owen is feeling.
She leaves as Donovan stares at the box, and after a few moments he picks it up and tears the wrapping away. He places the box back on the desk, lifting off the top…
...and revealing two small pairs of aviators.
Travis Roberts looks up with jubilation as Donovan steps into his locker room.
Roberts - ‘You came!’
Hastings: Stop it. I know you’ve been begging everybody you can get to listen to you for longer than two seconds to please please please join your team at Outlast. If you really thought you had a shot at me doing it, you’re crazier than I thought.
Roberts - ‘Join...no, of course not. You have to defend your title in the main event, I wouldn’t want you to jeopardize that by having to participate in a qualifier on my behalf.’
Hastings: Then what is this about?
Roberts - ‘I...’
Hastings: You know, you have some ugly ass lamps.
Roberts - ‘I’m not responsible for the decorum of a locker room in the UGWC arena.’
Hastings: That’s another thing, from what I hear, everything I just “I, I, I’ with you now, isn’t it? Before it was just “Blessed One this” and “Headliner that” but now you don’t want to leave any doubt in anybody’s mind that it’s all about you, is that it?
Travis stares at his estranged friend for a moment.
Roberts - ‘What did I do to you?’
Hastings: You were dragging the group down. Dead weight, had to let you go. Good business.
Roberts - ‘No...no. What did I do to you?’
Hastings: You really need me to tell you what you did to me?
Roberts - ‘I think you owe me that.’
Hastings: I don’t owe you a damn thing. You know what happened in my life over a year ago, Travis? My daughters were born. My twins. Do you even know that happened? They were born. We had a coming home part when they left the hospital. You weren’t there. They were baptized. You weren’t there. You haven’t come to see them once. We never even hear from you.
Roberts - ‘Not true, I spoke with Cal yesterday.’
Hastings: You texted her begging her to get me to come meet you here after Synergy. You want to know what you did, Travis? You’re a lousy friend.
Travis - ‘I...’
He hesitates as Donovan glares at him. Travis turns around and produces a wrapped box, which he extends to Donovan.
Roberts - ‘I got you this.’
Donovan stares at it in his hands.
Hastings: You’re unbelievable.
Donovan turns around and leaves. The upper body of Travis Roberts visibly sinks. He starts to sit down, when Donovan barges back into the room, snatches the gift out of his hands, and storms out again.
Travis Roberts sits back down, alone.
It took longer than it should have, but I’m finally the person with the target on my back again. I admit that there were moments that I thought this day would never come.
Nine different people held the World Title ten different times over three and a half years since the previous time it was rightfully around my waist. During that time I endured a war with Alex Kiseragi, educated the next generation of the industry in the Dungeon of Pain, put down the insurrection of Ezekiel Pax, and nearly had my career ended by Zane Scott. I managed to reprioritize my life and find a genuine happiness in places and avenues that I never would have expected.
I deserve this.
Winning the World Heavyweight Title at Infinity was validation for what has become a journey that was years in length. My championship reign has proven to be longer than any in history, with the exception of that bearded jackyl a few years back, and that really was an aberration that should be in another category altogether, stricken from history.
Four times they have tried to take it from me, four times have they failed. That’s more than Deimos in his supposed “Year of Fear” or whatever he called it. More than Somers was able to accomplish in two reigns combined. More than both Morgans combined. More than Zane Scott.
I am the greatest World Heavyweight Champion in history.
So now I’m standing on the seventy-second floor in the Executive Conference Room, I think it’s Room A for Accomplished, with the group of people who are going to keep it that way.
Dirge: Welcome gentlemen. It's a pleasure to have you all here. Even you Mr. Ingalls.
They’re all sitting around the table, Vain, Remi, Ichabod, and for some reason I’ll have to pretend I was listening to when it was explained, the trainer. Dirge reminds us why we’re all here, probably a good idea since I’ve noticed these people seem to have short attention spans.
Damarest pushes Dirge’s button, and we get a picture of Sister Morgan on the screen.
Dirge: Eden.
Ichabod jumps in right away, the first to offer his “insight” on the topic. He’s just happy we finally included him. Personally, I think since I’m the World Champion, my vote should count double. Nah, that probably wouldn’t be fair. It should count triple.
I should probably jump in as soon as his mouth stops moving.
Hastings: She's overrated tripe. She couldn't get the job done last year at Outlast, she couldn't beat me at No Holds Barred, it's time that everybody saw her for the propped-up cardboard that she is.
Vain uses more words than necessary to tell me I amused him. Just laugh like a normal person, you freaking weirdo. I think back on all the time I invested in getting Travis to stop referring to himself in the third person around me, and how that worked out, and I don’t have the time or energy to go through that again with this guy.
Crap, everybody is laughing at something now. Okay, I’ll laugh too.
Dirge: We’re in agreement about Eden and body parts that can be pressed against her. I’ve also got this cane here, and think about what it can do to her end.
Or something like that. I should jump back in here, seems to be getting off-track.
Hastings: Don't forget that she has that drooling puppy dog Pierce following her around, anchored to her leg. That's baggage.
Dirge: Indeed. One of us needs to be the car that hits her new puppy and puts him out of our collective misery. That should send her completely over the edge.
Is Remi playing with a fucking nipple ring?
Remi: Cajun Nonsense.
Dirge: Do explain.
Remi: Lots of Cajun Nonsense.
...what?
Dirge: Yes. Remi has an excellent point.
Oh, fuck you.
Dirge: Every time that Eden gets into trouble, Pierce practices being fruity about it until she has bitten him. Budding love is so useful.
Pierce is Kiseragi? Wait, no, they hated each other. I’m so confused.
Dirge: Moving on from one type of unstable to another...Zane Scott.
Vain: Is he still going by ‘Lord of the Flies’?
Are you shitting me? After everything I had to put up with from Zane last year, he’s stealing the Lord moniker? I mean, when is it going to be enough?
It doesn’t help that Zane managed to win this tournament last year. There is something to be said for that sort of experience. Like he needs that going for him.
Remi: Cajun fire trucks.
Of course, I won this tournament once too. LWF. 2009. Not only did I win the tournament and was the World Champ afterwards, I was also the champion going into it. I’ve retained a title at Outlast. You know who was there, and couldn’t do anything about it? Travis Pierce. Red Fusion. Phrixus Deimos. They all watched it from the back, because they couldn’t even get out of their qualifying rounds. I retained a World Title at Outlast. Nobody has done it since.
Nobody that counts, anyway.
Dirge: We can rectify both what Ichabod said with what you said, David. They are not mutually exclusive.
Shit, I have no idea who we’re talking about.
Dirge: The Legend in his own Mind, Moss Edwards.
Ooh, I got this one.
Hastings: He showed us all he had at Seven Deadly Sins. Edwards is done, he's run out of smoke and mirrors. He's a poor man's puppeteer who has been put to shame by the real thing.
Ichabod: I'm not so sure I agree. This is the man who pulled the wool over all of your eyes as Prince Rudo. A quiet Moss Edwards is a plotting Moss Edwards.
Remi: Cajun Agreement!
Damn straight.
You know what we could probably use? A rally cry. Along the lines of “AVENGERS ASSEMBLE” or something like that, but for the Puppet Masters. So, let’s see...an action verb that starts with P. Plan, we’re sitting here planning. Persuade? We are manipulative bastards, after all. Preserve, we’re all trying to preserve my title reign. Prioritize. Puppetmasters...Prioritize! Probe? It’s Clobbering Time is taken. Twice over. Puppetmasters...PERFORM!!!
That sucks.
Who are we talking about?
Dirge: Somers.
Oh, I have plenty to say here.
Remi: Six Tons of Cajun Nonsense.
Great. I have NO IDEA how to follow that. Way to go, Rems. This is why you got poop diapers launched at your stupid boat.
Dirge: I like where your thought process is.
Of course you do. Dirge mastered comprehending Cajun babble when he was only fifteen, concurrent to his studies on how to decipher the universe by playing a piccallo.
Dirge: Klaus.
Sure, move on from Somers. It’s not like there is anything left to say, really, Remi summed it all up quite nicely. Of course, we could revisit that bullshit stunt he tried to pull a few weeks back, but we all know it was just hot air. Jet Somers is a petulant child that suffers from oppositional defiance combined with zero impulse control. You know, it might actually be worth the accompanying madness to see Jet actually become “the establishment” for a few weeks, if only to see him chase his own tail trying to undermine himself.
I guess it’s possible that Remi actually said some of that.
Dirge: Fusion. Not that I think he's worthy of much discussion.
Now I missed Klaus too. Thanks, REMI.
Vain: The enemy of friends read Fusion’s book.
Hold on, that bastard is published?
Vain: However, he should continue focusing on the Cross-Hemisphere Title, lest he become disappointed when he realizes that he still is not World Title caliber. One day he may be...but Outlast will not be that day.
Hastings: You get too dismissive with Fusion and he'll drop you with that damned Virus of Life. I'm telling you, if we sit here and assume that he's a non-factor that KvK and Somers are going to kick to the curb, it'll bite us in the ass. He's an obsessive idiot with nothing to lose, and we all know how dangerous that can be.
I know better than anyone the threat that Fusion actually represents. Yeah, this guy blows a ton of opportunities, but you know what? He’s STILL held a bunch of championships. He keeps getting himself these opportunities. A stopped clock is still right twice a day. People are going to look at the pairing of Klaus and Jet and assume that one or both of them is going to easily walk on through. Red Fusion has one of the most devastating finishers that I’ve ever had the misfortune of being on the receiving end of, and he can hit it out of nowhere. Is he a child walking around with a loaded handgun? Yeah. And we know how dangerous those can be. You throw in that he’s got Fear in his corner, probably going all Creepy Yoda or something, and that is a wildfire getting ready to spread.
Ichabod: I honestly can't get a handle on him.
That’s what I’m saying, Ichy. See, this is why you’re here.
Oh, they’re talking about Zeke now. Backstabbing shithead.
Remi: Eau de Cajunoise.
Damarest: An excellent suggestion, Remi. I’ll see to it after Outlast.
Stop it, DAVE. You have NO idea what he said either.
Dirge: Roberts.
Wow, everyone got quiet quick.
Vain: Who?
And everybody shares a laugh. I’ll play nice in the sandbox and join in for the sake of unity, but I’m not stupid enough to disregard a man who is a 3-Time former Global Champion, who twice has won Battleground, who just months ago won the Global Challenge.
Who, indeed.
Calypso: It’s a nice gesture.
Donovan and Calypso each carry a baby, both are staring at the wrapped gift sitting on Donovan’s desk.
Calypso: Are you going to open it?
Hastings: I signed off on one of the worst beatings he’s ever gotten in his life.
Calypso: You need to see what it is.
Hastings: ...yeah.
The baby that Donovan cradles starts babbling.
Baby: Duh da DAH da da daa.
Hastings: You think so? I’m pretty sure that’s what Remi said the other day.
He stares at the gift for another moment.
Hastings: Take them out of here. We don’t know what’s in there.
Calypso nods, and extends her free arm towards him.
Calypso: Come here, sweetie. Come to mama.
The child hesitates a moment, looking up at Donovan, but Calypso leans a little further and she reciprocates, reaching back as Calypso takes the infant into her arms, now carrying both babies, one in each arm.
Calypso: Come on, girls. Let’s go see how your Uncle Owen is feeling.
She leaves as Donovan stares at the box, and after a few moments he picks it up and tears the wrapping away. He places the box back on the desk, lifting off the top…
...and revealing two small pairs of aviators.
