Post by Swindle Shelldrake on Feb 17, 2022 18:31:07 GMT -5
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---| The Crowning II |---
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T h e K r a k e n
S w i n d l e S h e l l d r a k e
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The scene opens with the crackling static and zips of an old television set. Clicks follow that sound like that of a VHS being turned on. The static splits to retro copyright logos and contracts before a low synth plays before a grainy vignette.
---| The Crowning II |---
∞
T h e K r a k e n
S w i n d l e S h e l l d r a k e
---| A i r w a v e s |---
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---| A D i f f e r n t T i m e |---
The scene opens with the crackling static and zips of an old television set. Clicks follow that sound like that of a VHS being turned on. The static splits to retro copyright logos and contracts before a low synth plays before a grainy vignette.
NARRATOR: “War. It is the one constant for mankind. Be it for royalty, alliances, or money….War is always for one thing; Power. Through all their might, humanity will try to withhold its animalistic need for violence. For Bloodshed. For victory….”
“But here, in the gladiator’s arena they call the ring….there is only one battleground that can contain this colossal collision of cataclysmic catastrophes…..”
“WarGames”.
“The Legion of Holt have invaded, looking to cease even more power and influence in the wrestling world. A powerful gathering of some of the most dangerous people to ever step into the ring. The KavalcadeVengers caught in the mix, looking to overturn the tides as an alliance must rise up to combat this vicious threat. And now that Big Van Mandias is AWOL….The Dudes with Drip must call upon a specialist….their very own fearless leader himself to call the banners and unite against the forces of evil! Three teams, but only one can walk out of the cage as the winners of this impending war!"
“It’s WarGames 1995! This time, it’s personal!”
There is a quick scrubbing sound as the video is being put into fast forward. Squealing of the film reel as it gets stretched through, the grainy VHS image quickly showing accelerated viewings of wrestling matches. The mat is a muted gray, with ropes of white. The fans, and the wrestlers, are dressed very much in bright neon and tye-dye colours of the 1990s. The pumping synth bass and drums fire in for the PPV theme as crackles of pyro light up from the stage. The ring announcer dressed in a suit that could hold someone with a torso twice the size bellows down the microphone.
ANNOUNCER: “Ladies and Gentlemen, both watching at home….and here….in Daytoooooooon, Ohiiiiiooooooooo!!”.
The crowd roar into a raucous cheer for their hometown, still somewhat muted reaction to the bigger hotbeds of wrassling as it is still Dayton, Ohio.
ANNOUNCER: “In collaboration with our sponsors of Cocacola, The all-new PH Mastercard, and The Bennett Backwater Auto Showroom….”
“Hollander Irwin Promotions presents…..”
“Pacific Heritage Wrestling!”
“Sizzling Showdown 1995!!”
The ramp and stage of the arena are immediately filled with what could only be described as an indulgent overuse of pyrotechnics. Vastly too expensive for whatever was to follow in the ring that night. The titantron cuts over to a backstage segment with Pacific Heritage Wrestling’s resident interviewer, ‘Harsh” Jimmy Marsh. With a balding egg’s nest of hair on his head and a mustache befitting a 1920s strongman, Marsh is joined by five towering people for an interview, all adorned in matching army camo-inspired wrestling gear.
‘HARSH’ JIMMY MARSH: “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I am joined backstage with five of the brave individuals about to enter the titanic WarGames structure later tonight in the main event. Team Dudes with Drip are here we have the Hipbeast ‘Tenacious’ Thompson J. Thompson, ‘Superstar’ Sheldon Shelldrake, the Television Champion The Magnificent Myojin, one third-of-one-half of the International Territory Tag Team Champions ‘The Forecaster’ Julius Fairweather, and team captain making the last minute substitution after the sudden arrest of Big Van Mandias, ‘Popping’ Peter Savant”.
One-third-of-one-half of the Tag Team Champions steps forward from the crowd, holding what looks like a tiny fragment of a championship center plate in his hand.
‘HARSH’ JIMMY MARSH: “Julius let’s start with you. You’re entering into the perilous WarGames structure with more than just the glory of a championship to uphold, but one where you have to face men that you are more than familiar with”.
‘THE FORECASTER’ JULIUS FAIRWEATHER: “Yeah that’s right, Harsh Marsh, now let me tell you somethin’! I don’t care if the network gotta censor my ass but I gotta get this all off my chest. In that cage I got the biggest fight of ‘em all. It’s more than a title, or revenge or whatever these punk asses are fighting for. My stomach is knots, I haven’t slept, because I have to go out there, and trade fists with two men than I call brothers. Two men that I have known for my entire life. Two men that I would have died for before this day. We could have been the greatest triplet trio going in the territories, The Weather Reporters were destined for greatness”.
“I might be one-third-of-one-half of the Tag Team Champions, but that only means that I got sixteen point six recurring chance to win this fight between the Weather Reporters, they’ve each got that same sixteen point six recurring chance as I do. We know each other too well for it to go any other way. But then my brother of the motherfucking ****weather-”
There is an audible censor beep over Fairweather’s obscenity, but the beep is both too short and mistimed to even censor his language on national closed-circuit PPV. Classic Pacific Heritage. Meanwhile, Peter Savant and Thompson J. Thompson are busy counting out on their fingers to try and find how the math works.
‘THE FORECASTER’ JULIUS FAIRWEATHER: “He’s got The Wall with him. The Castle Wall! That no good criminal Slatehouse Chuck! He’s got the other fifty percent chance of winnin’, and combined with Foulweather, they have sixty-six point six recurring chance of winnin’. That’s a lot of chance, but it doesn’t matter what their chance is. You wanna know why, Harsh Marsh? I’ll tell ya why, Harsh Marsh! The KavalcadeVengers don’t have it, the Legion of Holt don’t have it….they don’t have the *****fucking Dudes with Drip on their side. We’re here to overcome any of the odds right there, brother jack! Let’s fuc*ing go, mot**rfuckers!”
Everyone in the backstage area peer around at each other awkwardly with every bombardment of profanity. But the Forecaster isn’t playing games. After he is finished Harsh Marsh gestures to the Television Champion.
‘HARSH’ JIMMY MARSH: “Myojin you’ve got an extra target on your back heading into the cataclysmic construction tonight as the reigning PH Television Champion. How are you going to overcome the pressure?”.
THE MAGNIFICENT MYOJIN: “Let me tell you something, James. If I couldn’t handle that pressure, I wouldn’t have the….prime time spot airing over my shoulder right now. Because Myojin is more than just a champion. They are prime time. They tune in to see me. They tune in to hear me. They tune in to live vicariously through me because I am the best. The Legion are nothing to worry about. An invasion from them is to front their strength, when they will have to look away when confronted with the shining star that is me. Your television sets might see a snuff film tonight, but it’ll be us surviving at the end. The Vengers and The Legion will no doubt be eyeing up my title, but none of them will have the privilege to challenge my magnificence”.
‘THE HIPBEAST’ ‘TENACIOUS’ THOMPSON J. THOMPSON: “THAT’S RIGHT, BROTHER BROTHER! THE MAGNIFICENT ONE AIN’T TELLIN’ YOU NO LIES TODAY! I HATE RATS!”.
‘HARSH’ JIMMY MARSH: “Gentlemen, Gentlemen. Thompson J. Thompson and Peter Savant, as founding members of the Big Drip Alliance, naturally, there is a lot of weight on your shoulders tonight. Some might even push as far as saying the result affects you the least as you are retirin-”
‘POPPING’ PETER SAVANT: “WHO IS SAYING THAT? You been listening to the wrestling radio, huh? Been reading the blogs on your own personal computer, Harsh Marsh? Got the big money for that computer, huh? On the Apple payroll, Harsh Marsh?.....”
Peter Savant pauses and looks at Thompson J. Thompson, the two of them grinning in the moment of silence as they both get closer to the microphone.
‘POPPING’ PETER SAVANT AND ‘THE HIPBEAST’ ‘TENACIOUS’ THOMPSON J. THOMPSON: “LET US TELL YOU SOMETHIN’, HARSH MARSH!!”
‘POPPING’ PETER SAVANT: “Yeah I’m bowing out, so what? This ain’t some cozy cruise through the greatest hits. This is the celebration of the sauce I’ve brought to Pacific Heritage. To the big man himself Hollander Irwin Productions….THE HIP IF YOU WIIIIILLLLLL. They ain’t gonna reign on our parade tonight, oh no! Not tonight! NOT TONIGHT! OOOOHHH YEAHHHH!! The Dripper Powers are riding high on this tour, we got the wave of energy from all our Drip Dude and Dudettes out there. They’re giving us the energy! The power! The strength to win against the forces that can’t hold a candle or a mic to the Savant!”
‘THE HIPBEAST’ ‘TENACIOUS’ THOMPSON J. THOMPSON: “THE HIIIIIIIPPPPPP! THE DRIIIIIIIPPP! THE HYYYYYYPPEEEE! HARSH MARSH!! YOU AIN’T SEEN NOTHIN’ YET FROM THE BIG DRIP ALLIANCE!”
The rest of Big Drip Alliance are feeling the energy in the air, shouting and hotdogging and grandstanding. They all shuffle off screen to the backstage area, leaving the more understated final member of their troupe and Jimmy Marsh. He is thinner than the rest, but taller than most in the business. Generic red gear, and a leather jacket bearing no markings or logos whatsoever. Boots mismatching with his trunks as they’re in a sparkling white. As if they’ve never been worn before.
‘HARSH’ JIMMY MARSH: “And lastly, we have ‘Superstar’ Sheldon Shelldrake. Sheldon, this is your first time inside such a hellacious holding, and on such a bi stage in your young career. What’s going on inside your head with so many big stars, some of whom ought to be your heroes and icons, in this match?”
In comparison to his highly charismatic teammates for this gigantic match, strangely, almost to a disturbing degree, Shelldrake doesn’t have the conviction and fire. His words are more cookiecutter and hesitant. Lacking. Sounding both overly rehearsed and not at all.
‘SUPERSTAR’ SHELDON SHELLDRAKE: “Let me tell you s-somethin’, Harsh Marsh. All those guys in the ring might be stronger and more experienced than me, but I-I’m not-”
‘HARSH’ JIMMY MARSH: “....Even Habanero Padron?”
‘SUPERSTAR’ SHELDON SHELLDRAKE: “I um….but I’m not gonna give on that, ok!...They might be my heroes in there, but I gotta take this chance and not let the team dow-”
‘HARSH’ JIMMY MARSH: “Just like you did with JÖRMUNGANDR?”
‘SUPERSTAR’ SHELDON SHELLDRAKE: “I…what?”
‘HARSH’ JIMMY MARSH: “Jay is nowhere to be seen and you don’t even call him anymore. What about Kenji or Mark Hunter? Your antics and ambition ended their careers".
‘SUPERSTAR’ SHELDON SHELLDRAKE: “......”
The silence is immensely awkward in the backstage area as there is mumblings from behind the camera, the once steady shot meandering to the side for a moment as both Marsh and Shelldrake are talking to someone off screen. Meanwhile, the advertisement screen behind them rustles for a moment, with a hooked blade cutting its way through the cheap set of PHW. The handle is a bright pink, standing out even in the neon nineties.
The screen gets fuzzier and granier, the static cutting across both men as the footage grinds to a halt. Suddenly, a blade comes crashing through to break the TV screen entirely, cracking through into the sparking innards of the box television. It rests there as the hand leaves its handle, revealing its pink and black handle. Text on the handle written in a pink splatter font reading;
“Die Fallout”
SWINDLE SHELLDRAKE: “Would be nice if that’s how it was, right?”
The Kraken steps into frame, dragging a chair with him infront of the television. He swings it around into position and sits infront of the buzzing static on screen. The VHS stuck on quiet, ever-repeating audio of “war-war-war-war-war-war-war-war”.
SWINDLE SHELLDRAKE: “....Now, let me tell you something….”
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The scene turns to grainy black-and-white. Footage of a squared circle. A handful of hopeful trainees sparing in the ring. They run the ropes, hard cut to grappling drills. The pains looks on their faces when they come crashing down to the mat from a nasty suplex. Over and over. The trainer’s face is never shown in full, always obscured through the lighting and the camera frame, but their presence is large enough to dwarf all the rookies in their care. Five rookies either too dumb or naive to question it or walk away. The barking and degrading grows louder, especially to one particular young hopeful. He’s tall, and nothing to him. Practically a string bean that’s been left to overgrow, while still being as thin as a needle.
TRAINER: “GET UP!”
“GET UP, FOR FUCK SAKE!”
Footage cuts between various sparring and training sessions, all of which involve Swindle struggling against his fellow rookies, and his trainer. His submission skills seem to be lacking, and certainly doesn’t have the physique of his more athletically-minded peers. Between the painful beatings that he goes through, the trainer is growling into the camera.
TRAINER: “SHOW ME”
“SHOW ME THAT YOU REALLY WANT THIS, YOU FUCKING TWIG!”
He slaps Swindle across the face after a sloppy side headlock takeover.
SWINDLE SHELLDRAKE [V.O.]: “It’s not about being a star. It never was really. To reach stage like WarGames. To the main event. It doesn’t even mean being the best. There would be countless guys that could have been the biggest names in this business that didn’t make it out of day one. Nobody bats an eye. Stars could even make it further than that, but still fall short. There is a mindset we have. Stars band together to make their own legacies. True Society. Kadvengers…..Drip Worldwide…..JÖRMUNGANDR….”
TRAINER: “GET THE FUCK UP, SHELLDRAKE!....Fucking hell….Hit the bricks….”
There is a brief cut to footage of Proving Ground XXII, after a hellacious Flight of the Raven, Jason Long pins Swindle Shelldrake to the mat for his first direct loss in Project: Honor.
SWINDLE SHELLDRAKE [V.O.]: “It’s all trying to fill in the gaps that we have. Because we can’t make it on our own. It’s all some big game of chance when you boil it down, and that isn’t anything a cage over two rings will change”.
“There would be a life where I was on Holt’s side. Not for any morality, or self-righteousness….I’m a little too good for that. Wouldn’t be for gold, or his attempt at company. It would simply be if on that fateful day, I said yes. That’s it. Would I be in this match if I had done so? Would we even be here?”
Quick cut to the Collision Course Tag Tournament where Arata and Havoc eliminate Shelldrake and Crowley from their quest for Project: Honor tag team gold.
“We’ll never know”.
“Could be some homeless bum if I didn’t tell that cunt to fuck off with his training”.
Another splice of footage sees the main event of Night of Honor Night One, this time with Shelldrake submitting to the now absent Lazarus Arjen.
TRAINER: “YOU’RE A WORTHLESS FUCK! PACK IT UP AND SAVE YOURSELF THE FUCKING SHAME! You’re only here because you’re dumb enough to keep paying me to train you, for something that you’ll never make a penny from”.
SWINDLE SHELLDRAKE [V.O.]: “I go my own way”.
"This is my third pay-per-view main event for Project: Honor. Now who's laughing?”
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The scene changes again, back to the blackened-studio where Swindle has now stood from his chair, pulling the Kusarigama blade out of the television with a grunt, kicking the ox down to the ground as it smashes and clatters. He turns back to the camera, a wider smile on his face. Not with the visage of inexperience in his past, or in the fictionalized footage of the nineties. Jacket littered with logos of his own making, Project: Honor, Proving Ground, Tetran Kai, JÖRMUNGANDR, and many more. He pulls the Big Drip Worldwide pin off his jacket and looks at it for a moment.
SWINDLE SHELLDRAKE: “I love to see this be your moment, Petey. I really would. Keep things nice and simple, let you have your shine before walking off into the sunset. Would be nice….”
“A lot of things would be nice if they were just left well enough alone….”
“Sadly, not what they, or I, am about”.
“True Society presents something of a new challenge. Decked to the nines with gold. Bennett with a shot on-demand. Tag Team Championships over Castle and Foulweather. Legendary status of Santiago. Syndicate having touched the peak of the mountain already. Kadvengers standing as fodder in the middle of No-man's Land. All on a conquest that could be stopped. If we make it so. It’s all a chance too. They could take over and we bend to their will. If we let it be so”.
“Left well enough alone…..”
“It’s never so simple”.
“This is where it’s all forgotten. True Society. The Lil’ Petey retirement. The pillars that we’re built on here will crumble. Not through our wars of factions. But because I’ll cut down all the strings that are holding them up. It doesn’t matter who you are, or what side. We’re long past all of that….”
The camera changes to watch as Swindle drops the Big Drip pin to the ground, cutting closer as he stamps on it with his boot. A light crunch as it’s only deathrattle while he scrunches it into the floor.
There is a clink and rattling sound of ringing chain that follows, Swindle now holding the Kusarigama, letting it hang and drift in the air ominously. The footage now cuts to a shadow-obscured view of the WarGames cage in question. Flashes of poor-quality VHS footage shows the modern-age wrestlers of Project: Honor waging war inside it. But with a sinister twist of bright red blood across pretty much all the bodies strewn across the twin rings. The Kadvengers lay over the mat, with True Society and Big Drip in full. Swindle grinds the face of Bennett across the chain-link cage, the crimson gushing over her face. An Ink Bomb to MYOJIN. Throwing Castle and Fineweather against the cage. Choking Ratman over the ropes. A Violent Salvage off the top rope through a table to Syndicate.
SWINDLE SHELLDRAKE [V.O.]: “Everyone vying for their own emergence through this. This goes beyond allegiance. If you’re a joke or not, it doesn’t matter. In there….we’re on our own. And I wouldn’t have it any other way. Then, and only then, can we make this bigger than ourselves….”
The scene cuts again to the same motion with everyone in the match. All opponents being brutalized and broken by The Kraken. With no limited usage of the Kusarigama.
SWINDLE SHELLDRAKE [V.O.]: “This is my moment. WarGames won’t be written in the stars of a True Society’s victory. Or in the whimsical stupidity of a Big Drip last ride. Fuck all of that to hell. I’m not walking in there for you. For anyone, but myself. Be you an enemy, a bottomfeeder, a champion, a legend, you’re in my way”.
“And you won’t stop me. I know you won’t. Want to know why?”
Scene transitions again to a flash of Shelldrake locking in a submission on Lil’Petey. Something he’s never used before in Project: Honor.
An Octopus Stretch.
SWINDLE SHELLDRAKE [V.O.]: “I’ve survived much worse than any of you fucks can muster combined”.
A final cut sees Shelldrake now standing on top of the WarGames cage, holding a flag with nothing but a blank black fabric. He looks down to the entrance ramp where a horde of men and women are standing. All with their faces obscured. Some with championship belts, one with a briefcase. Some with tattoos. Some with gold chains around their necks.
Flashes of the horde of 14 falling to just four. All in basic gear, younger guys. Resembling trainees.
Interlacing the two charges, both groups start to run towards the WarGames cage, smash-cutting to the war-torn body count of the VHS WarGames match as they climb the cage. Bodies broken. Tables and weapons brought in, and used to great effect. Champions bleeding over their own title belts in the grizzly brutality.
During the depiction of violence as a rock version of Edwin Starr’s “War” begins to play, the scene splices back to Swindle standing behind the television again. This time with several screens in the background making a wall, much like in the prelude to his match with Johnny Levy. They relive the greatest highs of every person in the match.
War,
What is it good for?
Absolutely nothin’!
Woooohhhh
War,
What is it good for?
Absolutely nothin’!
Say it again, y’all
All their title victories, and their glory. None of them showing Swindle Shelldrake, not until the status starts to snap and fuzz into a sickly pink colour, the screens now starting to drip and bleed a pinkish blood.
War,
What is it good for?
Absolutely nothin’!
Listen to me
The TVs crackle and burst with sparks, some of them even catching fire while the camera focuses down from the smiling grin on Swindle’s face, to the kusarigama dangling from his hand. The handle reading “Die Fallout”. But as more and more of the WarGames vision plays out, the writing changes to be more specific. Eerily changing the words to read more and more of people in the match, on all sides…and beyond….
Die Fallout
Die Holt
Die Castle
Die Santiago
Die Ratman
Die Rapture
Die Foulweather
War, I despise,
‘Cause it means destruction of innocent lives
War means tears to thousands of mother’s eyes
When their sons go off to fight
And lose their lives
Die Bennett
Die Burque
Die Hope
Die Fineweather
Die Fairweather
Die Myojin
Die Thompson
Die Arjen
Die Petey
Die English
Die Asakura
Die DeMarco
War,
What is it good for?
Absolutely nothin’!
Just say it again
War, oh lord
What is it good for?
Absolutely nothin’!
Listen to me
It ain’t nothing but a heart-breaker
Friend only to The Undertaker
Oh, war it’s the enemy to all mankind
The thought of war blows my mind
War caused unrest
Within the younger generation
Induction, then destruction
Who wants to die?
Die Hendrix
Die Crowley
Die Blade
Die Sunshine
Die Grace
Die Havoc
Die Crane
Die Levy
Die Jackson
Die Minj
War,
What is it good for?
Absolutely nothin’!
Say it, say it, say it
War, oh lord
What is it good for?
Absolutely nothin’!
Listen to me
Die Benson
Die Barrick
Die Pyro
Die Ozymandias
Die Emmanuelle
Die Gold
Die Hyde
Die Long
Die Darling
Die Hunter
War, (good god, y’all)
What is it good for?
ABSOLUTELY-
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ROLAND: “You’re good, Swindle. I like your moveset, but you need something else to diversify yourself out there. I take it you didn’t get much real submission training out there in the wild west?”
“Here….I’ll show you my personal favourite”.
Roland Raith proceeds to drill Shelldrake and show him out to apply something he had never done before. An Octopus Stretch. Technique to make it even more effective. Enough to win a match. Enough to make someone quit.
Maybe enough to never come back.
ROLAND: “I call it the Tetran Coil”.
I pray for you
While days go by
While people die
In heaven's gate
I could not bring
Your smile again
My sweety hydra
I stand beneath your eyes
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I pray for you
While days go by
While people die
In heaven's gate
I could not bring
Your smile again
My sweety hydra
I stand beneath your eyes
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