Chapter Seventeen - Tea and Triumph
Jul 22, 2017 5:44:16 GMT -5
Eden Morgan and Lucy Wylde like this
Post by Gabriel Baal on Jul 22, 2017 5:44:16 GMT -5
The party in Gabriel’s locker room had moved on – Quentin and John had persuaded Solomon and Riddick to come and sample some of the delights of New Orleans, whilst Ichabod’s returned had been short lived. He and Quentin merely eyed one another with suspicion, and uncharacteristically, Ichabod pulled Gabriel aside and suggested it may be better that he left. Gabriel had attempted to reason with the both of them but it was to no avail. Ichabod took his leave, and the rest of the beer, and left.
Gabriel was alone – finally giving himself time to think and take everything into perspective. He was still wearing his gear, the paint was pealed off most of his body. He stumbled into the shower and turned it on. It was a few minutes before he realised he was still holding the title. Dropping it on the bench for a moment, he pulled off his clothes.
He wasn’t sure what happened next. Everything seemed to go black – but when he opened his eyes he was sat on the floor of the shower, the water pouring down on him – his eyes stinging with tears.
He’d done it. He’d finally done it.
"What the fuck is this?" Asked Ichabod, his eyes dashing to each of the signs just outside of the World Forestry Center in Portland, Oregon. "You said you were taking me to a festival."
"And?" Said Gabriel removing his sunglasses and tucking them inside his jacket pocket. "I’m not sure I understand what you’re quibbling about this is a festival."
The newly smart-casual Gabriel had forgone the full suit, to replace it with a pair of tapered jeans, boat shoes, a white shirt with a blue paisley pattern and a blue/grey tweed jacket.
"It’s a fucking tea Festival." Said Ichabod, somewhat shocked.
"Well it was either this or the Oregon Bach Festival." Gabriel replied.
"Why? Why did it have to be those two options?" Ichabod asked with a touch of exasperation.
"Because they were the only two festivals that were available in Oregon this week."
"Why did it have to be Oregon at all?" Asked Ichabod, raising his voice now.
"Because that is where the Tea Festival is!" Returning the increase in volume.
Ichabod opened his mouth to speak again, but seemed to choke back his retort.
"You’d better not be taking me to a fucking tea party, Gabriel." Snarled Ichabod as he stepped up the stairs towards the entrance.
"Hardly." Sneered Gabriel. "We Brit’s have a particular disinclination for “tea parties.” "
They reached the doors which were opened by two of the happiest looking individuals that Gabriel had ever seen. He returned an awkward and very British smile.
"Good morning Gentlemen, and welcome to the Portland Tea Festival. Can I take your tickets?" The first woman asked. Gabriel reached into his pocket and then began to look panicked.
"I… I can’t find them…" Gabriel said, his eyes darting from left to right.
"Really?" Said Ichabod hopefully, " because I’m sure there’s a good bar around here somew…"
"Cannot believe you fell for that." Replied Gabriel pulling the two tickets out of my pocket. "Here you are."
"Excellent." Said Ichabod, without a hint of emotion.
"Ohhhh, Mr. Baal – I notice you’ve signed up to all of our classes today." She said looking at the clipboard in her hand. Gabriel beamed and Ichabod rolled his eyes.
"Wonderful, just wonderful." She said ticking their names off. "I just love it when people come to our Festival ready to dive right in. Some people just want to nip in and taste some tea, but when someone signs up to the classes it really makes my kettle boil."
She giggled at her own joke. So did Gabriel. Ichabod? Nope.
"At it makes me feel even happier when couples come to enjoy our festival together. Our ceremony classes are wonderful for couples and we’ve been told it can help improve intimacy."
Gabriel continued to beam, before turning to look at Ichabod whose eyes widened.
"No." Said Ichabod. "Just no…"
Gabriel took a minute to finally realise the reason behind Ichabod’s reaction before turning back to the greeter.
"No." Said Gabriel.
"No." Added Ichabod.
"No, no." Replied Gabriel.
"Definitely no." Ichabod stated.
"100% not." Stuttered Gabriel.
"Not ever." Interjected Ichabod.
"Not on your nelly!" Exclaimed Gabriel.
"Not that there’s anything wrong with that." Said Gabriel and Ichabod together, giving a big thumbs to and grin towards those of us watching the exchange.
"Oh…" Said the woman looking out in the direction that they’re both facing and furrowing her brow. "I’m sorry, I just assumed."
"We’re…" Started Gabriel.
"Brothers." Said Ichabod, with a smile.
"But you have different accents, and look completely different. It is a rare thing for Male Pattern Baldness to strike with just one sibling." She said looking from one to the other.
"We’re brothers in a metaphorical sense." Said Gabriel.
"And I shave my head, you fucking cho…" Began Ichabod, before Gabriel held out a hand.
She looked offended. Very offended. Like, super offended.
"Enjoy your day… "Gentlemen."" She said, slapping the itinery into Gabriel’s hand.
"Brilliant." Said Gabriel with a roll of his eyes. "How we get sneeze tea because you can’t accept you’re a bald eagle."
"What?" Said Ichabod.
"You’re bald, but you sore." Said Gabriel with a smile.
"You’re incredibly giddy. Being the World Champion doesn’t suit you." Ichabod replied. He paused for a moment before continuing. "Wrestlestock was an unmitigated success."
"Well… Except that you lost." Said Gabriel.
"Stepped aside so that fresh blood would have opportunity." Corrected Ichabod. "Besides, there’s a bigger picture here."
"Agreed." Said Gabriel starting to browse the various small stalls.
"Somers, Wallace, King, Scott, Morgan. The last semblance of the Old Guard all felled over the course of four days."
"And fell to the kind of challengers who we hoped would rise from their ashes. JC, Lucy, B-Pac and Jason." Said Gabriel looking at the range antique tea strainers.
"And you my friend." Said Ichabod. "You managed what we’d tried for almost a year – to prove the point that new blood was greater than old. It wasn’t even about the Championship in the end – it was about destroying the she-beast. And creating an uber-beast."
"Isn’t everything?" Mumbled Gabriel.
"What was that?" Asked Ichabod.
"Nothing." Said Gabriel looking at a set of tea cups with ornate serpent handles."Absolutely nothing."
"And now face brings us face to face with Pac and Ingalls." Said Ichabod. "You’ve been hard on him, from what I hear."
"Holden reporting in on me?" Said Gabriel with a smile. "Or have you been speaking to Rogan?"
"Noting of the kind." Said Ichabod. "People talk. A fan told me of your current obsession with his mother’s coital status as concerns a certain Richard Nottingham."
"Pot, Kettle..." Said Gabriel. "Rushing away from the celebration to chase Eden down. Obsessed, much?"
Ichabod watched him for a moment.
"How did you know about that?" He asked.
"People talk." Said Gabriel looking up for a split second.
Ichabod allowed himself a slight smile.
"Fine." He said turning his head away trying to find something… Anything that might interest him. He briefly stopped at a stall selling Beer flavoured Tea before shaking his head.
"Jason is a talented individual, but an annoyance. He currently has more than enough confidence. I feel no reason to coddle him." Said Gabriel looking at a Assam – Earl Grey blend.
"Is this your kind of tough love?" Ichabod asked.
"Hardly scratching the surface of my tough love." Gabriel smiled. "I’m merely trying to teach him a valuable lesson. Don’t ask for respect – take it."
"I doubt anyone would have imagined this time a year ago what we would have accomplished." Said Ichabod. "Save for us of course. We’ve won every Championship in the company. Ushered in a new era of superstar and watched the old guard wither and die. Edwards, Chaos, Roberts, Wallace… Yes we’ve lost some manpower along the way, but each time we’ve evolved into a stronger unit. Now there’s just the two of us."
Gabriel turned his head to eye Ichabod with suspicion.
"There’s something behind that." He said with the hint of a smile. "We never discussed what would have happened if you’d won the Wrestlestock Open."
"I would have chosen the World Heavyweight Championship." Said Ichabod without doubt. "I would have taken the chance that Chaos would have ensued allowing me to be chosen to face you."
"And then?" Asked Gabriel turning to face Ichabod.
"And then…" Said Ichabod. "A battle for the ages, my brother. A battle for the ages."
Gabriel nodded his head.
"Now." Said Ichabod rolling his eyes slightly. "Let’s make some fucking tea."
"You realise it’s been almost two weeks and you haven’t spoken to us once. Once." Said Gabe in frustration. "You don’t get rid of us because you’ve won a damn title."
"It’s THE title, Gabe. Could you be less crass?" Said Daniel admonishingly. "But he has a point. You can’t ignore us for ever."
"I can try." Said Gabriel glancing around the empty departure lounge.
"Here he is!" Said Gabe with a grin. "What’s going on? You trying to block us out."
"If only." Said Gabriel again with an eye roll. "I’ve been busy."
"Too busy to talk to us? You’re not usually too busy to talk to us." Said Daniel defensively.
"You know how busy I’ve been." Gabriel said still checking for prying easy. "I’m sorry."
Daniel and Gabe exchanged a look of surprise. An apology from Gabriel was not what they were expecting.
"You’re… Forgiven?" Said Daniel cautiously.
"Yeah, fuck it." Said Gabe with a grin. "More to celebrate than complain about. We won the World Heavyweight Championship!"
"I won the World Heavyweight Championship." Said Gabriel, cutting across Gabe.
"Excuse me?" Said Daniel. "We worked together."
"This. This right here is why I’ve been ignoring your fucking chattering for the last two weeks because of this fucking conversation. I hoped beyond hope that you’d just move on, forget about it. But no – here you both are, trying to take credit for that which you did not accomplish."
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Said Gabe with a sneer. "We were all there. We all beat that bitch."
"Please don’t call her that Gabe – but he’s right. We were all the - "
"No." Burst Gabriel in anger, the member of airport staff in the distance eyeing him with suspicion.
"No. You were too busy trying to check if she was Ok. And you." He flicked his head in Gabe’s direction. "You were too busy trying to find new and more subtle ways to groper her like a durnk uncle. It was I who took the initiative. It was I who took control. It was I who seized the moment when she thought that danger had been averted and took our victory."
"How can you say that?" Asked Daniel.
"Don’t even consider contradiction. The moment that she defeated Donovan Hastings you’re instinct was to check she was alright." Gabriel said. "It was I who saw and seized opportunity. I won that Championship and don’t think for a second I’d consider an alternative."
Gabe and Daniel looked at one another over Gabriel’s head. He ignored them. They slowly sunk into their seats at either side of him as the door of the Departure Lounge opened, and a suited man walked inside. He immediately set eyes on Gabriel and walked towards him. Gabriel tensed slightly, fearing some kind of altercation and immediately ruing his decision not to go to the bar with Ichabod.
As the man reached him, he smiled.
"Gabriel Baal." He said. It wasn’t a question, it was a statement.
"Whose asking?" He said.
"My name is Griffin. I work in the office of the Father of the Inferno. He’s asked me to deliver a message."
"I want you to be aware, that I may look like a librarian but I could tear your older out of it’s socket and beat you to death with the soggy end." Said Gabriel with a smile.
"This isn’t "that" kind of message, Mr. Baal." He added, extending his hand with a slip of paper in it. Gabriel took the note as Griffin turned and walked away leaving Gabriel alone again.
He opened the note and began to read – it was short and didn’t take long.
"What is it?" Gabe asked. Gabriel ignored him and read the note again.
Gabriel didn’t answer immediately – in fact he glanced at his watch and stood, collecting his things for the flight to Chicago.
"Well?!" Asked Daniel with urgency. "What did it say, Gabriel?"
"It’s from Uriel." Said Gabriel with a smile. "He wants to meet."
This time last year, no-one would have believed where we would all be now. I was the Cross Hemisphere Champion, destined to lose said Championship to Eden Morgan just three weeks later. Ichabod had been one of the men to fall to Rogan MacLean’s first Chaos Championship reign. B-Pac was a name yet to have graced the hallowed halls of UGWC and Jason Ingalls was…
Well. Jason Ingalls.
Don’t get me wrong, Jase – I don’t mean that as an insult. A year ago you weren’t the man you are now – you were lost. You were jumpy and scared. You were beaten and broken – you were an agent of suffering and it was painful to watch. Yes, you had your defiant “go fuck yourself” streak, but the truth was that… Deep down… You were hollow and broken. I can see why you felt your vindication came at the destruction of Chaos – closing a book. But that’s not what happened.
You embraced the Chaos.
No-one expected you to pick at Raenius. Before you defeated him at Battleground. No-one expected you to defeat Holden Orson at New Year Zero. No-one expected you to defeat Rogan at Seven Deadly Sins, no-one expected you to last at the Massive Melee and no-one expected you to be part of the team that toppled Killian and Vain. No-one expected you to do anything of note.
Except us.
You see, despite my outward distain for you on Twitter, the truth is that I’m proud of what you’ve become and I am proud of the choice that Rogan MacLean made and I am proud that when he took his leave of absence we continued to believe in you. I’m proud of everything that Jason Ingalls is. Jason Ingalls is now, more than ever, a genuine competitor. Jason Inaglls is the kind of competitor that we’ve been talking about for the last year. Hungry, motivated and denied opportunity. Willing to fight for what he wants, instead of waiting for it to be spoon fed to him.
Jason Ingalls is an Agent of Chaos.
But he wasn’t the first to embrace our ideals – Ichabod’s choice. You, B-Pac, you were the first to embrace the Chaos. You, B-Pac were the first to truly accept your role as an acolyte. Ichabod was proud, yet I was unsure. I’d seen my choice fail. I’d seen Holden fall before his was revealed. There was something I wasn’t sure about. Yes, you embraced Ichabod’s path, but still you were unchanged… Still… Lost.
Until Wrestlestock.
And then we saw the B-Pac that Ichabod had told us about. The man who could focus into something truly great. You played your part in winning those Championships Pac, you found the fight within you to help Jase to defeat one of the greatest Tag Teams of all time. Yes. I see now what Ichabod saw in you. I see now what it was he wanted to bring out of you. You may not be the biggest or the best but your fight is what counts.
Your heart.
Together you have created something truly great. Casting aside your failures and your misgivings has given you freedom. It has given you the opportunity to show the world they were wrong to doubt you. That they were wrong to believe that our choices were folly. You have succeeded where so many others have failed. You have embraced the Chaos and you have learnt that Chaos gives.
Yes. It will be an honour to defeat you this week.
Despite everything, we will defeat you. Not because of any long-winded or convoluted spiel about how we are the masters of Chaos and how you still have much to learn. Or about how the students still have much to learn from the teacher. It’s more simple than that. Intrinsic. We’re still better than you. Yes, like a veteran watching a rookie having a stellar year, we smile and we clap. We’re happy because it’s good for the business. But we know deep down, you still couldn’t lace our boots.
Not yet anyway.
I respect everything you’ve both done – I respect how much you’ve both changed. I respect the very idea that one day you may have all of the tools to pick up where we leave off but for now you have to understand that defeat to us is no disgrace. We’re no Alan Wallace. We’re no Raenius. We’re no Holden Orson or Rogan MacLean. Ichabod and I are the Engine of Chaos. So you have a choice – a single, simple choice. Stay on board. Or jump off and be consumed.
We will rise.
We will conquer.
We will recycle.
We are Chaos.
Gabriel was alone – finally giving himself time to think and take everything into perspective. He was still wearing his gear, the paint was pealed off most of his body. He stumbled into the shower and turned it on. It was a few minutes before he realised he was still holding the title. Dropping it on the bench for a moment, he pulled off his clothes.
He wasn’t sure what happened next. Everything seemed to go black – but when he opened his eyes he was sat on the floor of the shower, the water pouring down on him – his eyes stinging with tears.
He’d done it. He’d finally done it.
"What the fuck is this?" Asked Ichabod, his eyes dashing to each of the signs just outside of the World Forestry Center in Portland, Oregon. "You said you were taking me to a festival."
"And?" Said Gabriel removing his sunglasses and tucking them inside his jacket pocket. "I’m not sure I understand what you’re quibbling about this is a festival."
The newly smart-casual Gabriel had forgone the full suit, to replace it with a pair of tapered jeans, boat shoes, a white shirt with a blue paisley pattern and a blue/grey tweed jacket.
"It’s a fucking tea Festival." Said Ichabod, somewhat shocked.
"Well it was either this or the Oregon Bach Festival." Gabriel replied.
"Why? Why did it have to be those two options?" Ichabod asked with a touch of exasperation.
"Because they were the only two festivals that were available in Oregon this week."
"Why did it have to be Oregon at all?" Asked Ichabod, raising his voice now.
"Because that is where the Tea Festival is!" Returning the increase in volume.
Ichabod opened his mouth to speak again, but seemed to choke back his retort.
"You’d better not be taking me to a fucking tea party, Gabriel." Snarled Ichabod as he stepped up the stairs towards the entrance.
"Hardly." Sneered Gabriel. "We Brit’s have a particular disinclination for “tea parties.” "
They reached the doors which were opened by two of the happiest looking individuals that Gabriel had ever seen. He returned an awkward and very British smile.
"Good morning Gentlemen, and welcome to the Portland Tea Festival. Can I take your tickets?" The first woman asked. Gabriel reached into his pocket and then began to look panicked.
"I… I can’t find them…" Gabriel said, his eyes darting from left to right.
"Really?" Said Ichabod hopefully, " because I’m sure there’s a good bar around here somew…"
"Cannot believe you fell for that." Replied Gabriel pulling the two tickets out of my pocket. "Here you are."
"Excellent." Said Ichabod, without a hint of emotion.
"Ohhhh, Mr. Baal – I notice you’ve signed up to all of our classes today." She said looking at the clipboard in her hand. Gabriel beamed and Ichabod rolled his eyes.
"Wonderful, just wonderful." She said ticking their names off. "I just love it when people come to our Festival ready to dive right in. Some people just want to nip in and taste some tea, but when someone signs up to the classes it really makes my kettle boil."
She giggled at her own joke. So did Gabriel. Ichabod? Nope.
"At it makes me feel even happier when couples come to enjoy our festival together. Our ceremony classes are wonderful for couples and we’ve been told it can help improve intimacy."
Gabriel continued to beam, before turning to look at Ichabod whose eyes widened.
"No." Said Ichabod. "Just no…"
Gabriel took a minute to finally realise the reason behind Ichabod’s reaction before turning back to the greeter.
"No." Said Gabriel.
"No." Added Ichabod.
"No, no." Replied Gabriel.
"Definitely no." Ichabod stated.
"100% not." Stuttered Gabriel.
"Not ever." Interjected Ichabod.
"Not on your nelly!" Exclaimed Gabriel.
"Not that there’s anything wrong with that." Said Gabriel and Ichabod together, giving a big thumbs to and grin towards those of us watching the exchange.
"Oh…" Said the woman looking out in the direction that they’re both facing and furrowing her brow. "I’m sorry, I just assumed."
"We’re…" Started Gabriel.
"Brothers." Said Ichabod, with a smile.
"But you have different accents, and look completely different. It is a rare thing for Male Pattern Baldness to strike with just one sibling." She said looking from one to the other.
"We’re brothers in a metaphorical sense." Said Gabriel.
"And I shave my head, you fucking cho…" Began Ichabod, before Gabriel held out a hand.
She looked offended. Very offended. Like, super offended.
"Enjoy your day… "Gentlemen."" She said, slapping the itinery into Gabriel’s hand.
"Brilliant." Said Gabriel with a roll of his eyes. "How we get sneeze tea because you can’t accept you’re a bald eagle."
"What?" Said Ichabod.
"You’re bald, but you sore." Said Gabriel with a smile.
"You’re incredibly giddy. Being the World Champion doesn’t suit you." Ichabod replied. He paused for a moment before continuing. "Wrestlestock was an unmitigated success."
"Well… Except that you lost." Said Gabriel.
"Stepped aside so that fresh blood would have opportunity." Corrected Ichabod. "Besides, there’s a bigger picture here."
"Agreed." Said Gabriel starting to browse the various small stalls.
"Somers, Wallace, King, Scott, Morgan. The last semblance of the Old Guard all felled over the course of four days."
"And fell to the kind of challengers who we hoped would rise from their ashes. JC, Lucy, B-Pac and Jason." Said Gabriel looking at the range antique tea strainers.
"And you my friend." Said Ichabod. "You managed what we’d tried for almost a year – to prove the point that new blood was greater than old. It wasn’t even about the Championship in the end – it was about destroying the she-beast. And creating an uber-beast."
"Isn’t everything?" Mumbled Gabriel.
"What was that?" Asked Ichabod.
"Nothing." Said Gabriel looking at a set of tea cups with ornate serpent handles."Absolutely nothing."
"And now face brings us face to face with Pac and Ingalls." Said Ichabod. "You’ve been hard on him, from what I hear."
"Holden reporting in on me?" Said Gabriel with a smile. "Or have you been speaking to Rogan?"
"Noting of the kind." Said Ichabod. "People talk. A fan told me of your current obsession with his mother’s coital status as concerns a certain Richard Nottingham."
"Pot, Kettle..." Said Gabriel. "Rushing away from the celebration to chase Eden down. Obsessed, much?"
Ichabod watched him for a moment.
"How did you know about that?" He asked.
"People talk." Said Gabriel looking up for a split second.
Ichabod allowed himself a slight smile.
"Fine." He said turning his head away trying to find something… Anything that might interest him. He briefly stopped at a stall selling Beer flavoured Tea before shaking his head.
"Jason is a talented individual, but an annoyance. He currently has more than enough confidence. I feel no reason to coddle him." Said Gabriel looking at a Assam – Earl Grey blend.
"Is this your kind of tough love?" Ichabod asked.
"Hardly scratching the surface of my tough love." Gabriel smiled. "I’m merely trying to teach him a valuable lesson. Don’t ask for respect – take it."
"I doubt anyone would have imagined this time a year ago what we would have accomplished." Said Ichabod. "Save for us of course. We’ve won every Championship in the company. Ushered in a new era of superstar and watched the old guard wither and die. Edwards, Chaos, Roberts, Wallace… Yes we’ve lost some manpower along the way, but each time we’ve evolved into a stronger unit. Now there’s just the two of us."
Gabriel turned his head to eye Ichabod with suspicion.
"There’s something behind that." He said with the hint of a smile. "We never discussed what would have happened if you’d won the Wrestlestock Open."
"I would have chosen the World Heavyweight Championship." Said Ichabod without doubt. "I would have taken the chance that Chaos would have ensued allowing me to be chosen to face you."
"And then?" Asked Gabriel turning to face Ichabod.
"And then…" Said Ichabod. "A battle for the ages, my brother. A battle for the ages."
Gabriel nodded his head.
"Now." Said Ichabod rolling his eyes slightly. "Let’s make some fucking tea."
"You realise it’s been almost two weeks and you haven’t spoken to us once. Once." Said Gabe in frustration. "You don’t get rid of us because you’ve won a damn title."
"It’s THE title, Gabe. Could you be less crass?" Said Daniel admonishingly. "But he has a point. You can’t ignore us for ever."
"I can try." Said Gabriel glancing around the empty departure lounge.
"Here he is!" Said Gabe with a grin. "What’s going on? You trying to block us out."
"If only." Said Gabriel again with an eye roll. "I’ve been busy."
"Too busy to talk to us? You’re not usually too busy to talk to us." Said Daniel defensively.
"You know how busy I’ve been." Gabriel said still checking for prying easy. "I’m sorry."
Daniel and Gabe exchanged a look of surprise. An apology from Gabriel was not what they were expecting.
"You’re… Forgiven?" Said Daniel cautiously.
"Yeah, fuck it." Said Gabe with a grin. "More to celebrate than complain about. We won the World Heavyweight Championship!"
"I won the World Heavyweight Championship." Said Gabriel, cutting across Gabe.
"Excuse me?" Said Daniel. "We worked together."
"This. This right here is why I’ve been ignoring your fucking chattering for the last two weeks because of this fucking conversation. I hoped beyond hope that you’d just move on, forget about it. But no – here you both are, trying to take credit for that which you did not accomplish."
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Said Gabe with a sneer. "We were all there. We all beat that bitch."
"Please don’t call her that Gabe – but he’s right. We were all the - "
"No." Burst Gabriel in anger, the member of airport staff in the distance eyeing him with suspicion.
"No. You were too busy trying to check if she was Ok. And you." He flicked his head in Gabe’s direction. "You were too busy trying to find new and more subtle ways to groper her like a durnk uncle. It was I who took the initiative. It was I who took control. It was I who seized the moment when she thought that danger had been averted and took our victory."
"How can you say that?" Asked Daniel.
"Don’t even consider contradiction. The moment that she defeated Donovan Hastings you’re instinct was to check she was alright." Gabriel said. "It was I who saw and seized opportunity. I won that Championship and don’t think for a second I’d consider an alternative."
Gabe and Daniel looked at one another over Gabriel’s head. He ignored them. They slowly sunk into their seats at either side of him as the door of the Departure Lounge opened, and a suited man walked inside. He immediately set eyes on Gabriel and walked towards him. Gabriel tensed slightly, fearing some kind of altercation and immediately ruing his decision not to go to the bar with Ichabod.
As the man reached him, he smiled.
"Gabriel Baal." He said. It wasn’t a question, it was a statement.
"Whose asking?" He said.
"My name is Griffin. I work in the office of the Father of the Inferno. He’s asked me to deliver a message."
"I want you to be aware, that I may look like a librarian but I could tear your older out of it’s socket and beat you to death with the soggy end." Said Gabriel with a smile.
"This isn’t "that" kind of message, Mr. Baal." He added, extending his hand with a slip of paper in it. Gabriel took the note as Griffin turned and walked away leaving Gabriel alone again.
He opened the note and began to read – it was short and didn’t take long.
"What is it?" Gabe asked. Gabriel ignored him and read the note again.
Gabriel didn’t answer immediately – in fact he glanced at his watch and stood, collecting his things for the flight to Chicago.
"Well?!" Asked Daniel with urgency. "What did it say, Gabriel?"
"It’s from Uriel." Said Gabriel with a smile. "He wants to meet."
This time last year, no-one would have believed where we would all be now. I was the Cross Hemisphere Champion, destined to lose said Championship to Eden Morgan just three weeks later. Ichabod had been one of the men to fall to Rogan MacLean’s first Chaos Championship reign. B-Pac was a name yet to have graced the hallowed halls of UGWC and Jason Ingalls was…
Well. Jason Ingalls.
Don’t get me wrong, Jase – I don’t mean that as an insult. A year ago you weren’t the man you are now – you were lost. You were jumpy and scared. You were beaten and broken – you were an agent of suffering and it was painful to watch. Yes, you had your defiant “go fuck yourself” streak, but the truth was that… Deep down… You were hollow and broken. I can see why you felt your vindication came at the destruction of Chaos – closing a book. But that’s not what happened.
You embraced the Chaos.
No-one expected you to pick at Raenius. Before you defeated him at Battleground. No-one expected you to defeat Holden Orson at New Year Zero. No-one expected you to defeat Rogan at Seven Deadly Sins, no-one expected you to last at the Massive Melee and no-one expected you to be part of the team that toppled Killian and Vain. No-one expected you to do anything of note.
Except us.
You see, despite my outward distain for you on Twitter, the truth is that I’m proud of what you’ve become and I am proud of the choice that Rogan MacLean made and I am proud that when he took his leave of absence we continued to believe in you. I’m proud of everything that Jason Ingalls is. Jason Ingalls is now, more than ever, a genuine competitor. Jason Inaglls is the kind of competitor that we’ve been talking about for the last year. Hungry, motivated and denied opportunity. Willing to fight for what he wants, instead of waiting for it to be spoon fed to him.
Jason Ingalls is an Agent of Chaos.
But he wasn’t the first to embrace our ideals – Ichabod’s choice. You, B-Pac, you were the first to embrace the Chaos. You, B-Pac were the first to truly accept your role as an acolyte. Ichabod was proud, yet I was unsure. I’d seen my choice fail. I’d seen Holden fall before his was revealed. There was something I wasn’t sure about. Yes, you embraced Ichabod’s path, but still you were unchanged… Still… Lost.
Until Wrestlestock.
And then we saw the B-Pac that Ichabod had told us about. The man who could focus into something truly great. You played your part in winning those Championships Pac, you found the fight within you to help Jase to defeat one of the greatest Tag Teams of all time. Yes. I see now what Ichabod saw in you. I see now what it was he wanted to bring out of you. You may not be the biggest or the best but your fight is what counts.
Your heart.
Together you have created something truly great. Casting aside your failures and your misgivings has given you freedom. It has given you the opportunity to show the world they were wrong to doubt you. That they were wrong to believe that our choices were folly. You have succeeded where so many others have failed. You have embraced the Chaos and you have learnt that Chaos gives.
Yes. It will be an honour to defeat you this week.
Despite everything, we will defeat you. Not because of any long-winded or convoluted spiel about how we are the masters of Chaos and how you still have much to learn. Or about how the students still have much to learn from the teacher. It’s more simple than that. Intrinsic. We’re still better than you. Yes, like a veteran watching a rookie having a stellar year, we smile and we clap. We’re happy because it’s good for the business. But we know deep down, you still couldn’t lace our boots.
Not yet anyway.
I respect everything you’ve both done – I respect how much you’ve both changed. I respect the very idea that one day you may have all of the tools to pick up where we leave off but for now you have to understand that defeat to us is no disgrace. We’re no Alan Wallace. We’re no Raenius. We’re no Holden Orson or Rogan MacLean. Ichabod and I are the Engine of Chaos. So you have a choice – a single, simple choice. Stay on board. Or jump off and be consumed.
We will rise.
We will conquer.
We will recycle.
We are Chaos.
