Post by Jason Long on Feb 23, 2021 23:18:08 GMT -5
KING > TYRANT.
The O2 Arena, London, England -- February 14th, 2021.
Suffice to say, The Crowning didn’t go as intended for a lot of people, and the aftermath of it all proved that point to be true. Many had taken their leave and walked out of the company over not being able to crown themselves the winners, which was quite an irregular reasoning to even begin with, but none of those mattered at the end of the day, the one man who did matter was Jason Long. His very early elimination from the Tyrant Chamber confused a lot of people, even his most loyal of fans who knew that even he could have easily kicked out of the Curb Stomp from Pyro, he could have easily gotten right back up and beat the hell out of him for even trying to do such a thing. But he didn’t. Jason simply escorted himself out of the chamber and made his way to the back, and at that moment, everyone speculated about what happened. Everyone asked the question of if this was it, this was him walking away from his place at Project: Honor after months of building up since Unbreakable Resolution. After passing through that curtain, everyone within The O2 Arena had just watched Long simply quit everything he had. The lead up to the Tyrant Chamber was quiet from The King, but on the night in question, his actions spoke louder than the words he could have said.
Heading through the backstage area of the arena for Jason was intense, a lot of people side-eyed him as he made his way to the locker rooms- the roster, the stage crew, the producers, and even the general managers all looked at Long as he walked past. He didn’t even give them the satisfaction of looking right back at them, he just walked in a straight line and kept his head up, proud of the choice he made on this night, proud of what he had done to piss everyone off backstage. Once he walked into the locker room, he’s greeted with the sight of an old friend of his- Dominic Morrissey. His expression wasn’t the most pleasant to walk in on, but Long was almost surprised to see him backstage, let alone be in the locker room waiting for Long to walk in.
“Close the door,” the sharp tone from Dominic made Long raise his eyebrow but with another glance up at his friend, Long soon shut the door behind him. “So what the hell was that little performance for, mate? I thought that you were working hard on proving a point when being in Project Honor but all you’ve done was make an arse of everything. I thought me and you said earlier today that there’ll be a new Tyrant crowned and it’ll go straight to the man who’s already crowned a fuckin’ King… where did that plan go to, huh?”
Long looked on in silence, choosing not to speak to Dominic- after all, it’s not his opinion on what he wanted to do, it never was, to begin with. His sole purpose was to help him run down each and every single opponent he had, and with fifteen other people in that match, the list was already immensely long to fly through. Dominic waited for an answer from Long, but all that The King could do was pack his bags and head out of the arena- he had better things to be worrying about, he had better things to be doing in his life than to sit around and be lectured by a friend of his.
“Are we not going to say anything now? Are we just going to play the quiet game because you just decided ‘Nah, not tonight’ like this didn’t mean anything to you?” Question after question was flung right into Long’s direction but they just deflected off of him like it was nothing. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you as of the last… eight or so hours… but I need to fuckin’ know right now. I’m sure everyone else would like to know as well but before you even attempt to make any public announcement as to why you did what you did, you need to let me know so I can tell you if you’re fuckin’ thick as pig shit with a petty excuse.”
“I don’t really have an excuse.”
Dominic’s demeanor could tell you how much he just wanted to strangle the life out of Jason right now. “You what? You don’t have an excuse? I’d much appreciate it if you did so I don’t have to fuckin’ murder you out of pure hatred, having an excuse would save your life right now.”
“Eh… I’m sure it would,” the more that Long continued was the more that Dominic’s blood would boil and it was piping hot right now. Jason continued to pack up the bags of his ring gear, slipping out his wrestling boots and into his Green Carbon Nike Air Max 720 sneakers. “Honestly, after everything this morning. I sat back in those empty seats before they opened the doors and the crowd came in, and I started to reflect on myself what this match really meant to me as a person and what benefits it brought me…”
“And those were?”
A shit-eating grin grew on his face as he fixes his posture and slowly turned his head to face Dominic. “That’s the thing. There’s no benefit for me. I just couldn’t give a shit about some name. I know that you wanted to bring me up to that next level and set me onto a strong showing in my first pay-per-view here but be real with me here, Dom. What does being a Tyrant actually mean? What strengths do I get from being called a Tyrant? I’m positive you can name none.”
Dominic drops his head, brushing his hair back with his right hand before letting out a long sigh.
“Well, if you’re going to go by what the word itself means, then being a tyrant would mean having absolute power. Then again, I doubt that you’d want to go down the route of being a cruel and oppressing leader. With some of those that are in that match, they’d seem like they’d love to be a tyrant.” Dominic could have named almost all fifteen of them for this position because their egos were that much inflated heading into the Tyrant Chamber. About ninety-five percent of those were just fitting of that title, and of course, Jason was too. The match was a clusterfuck of the biggest egos on both rosters and at least one was going to just be that bigger when the match was over and done with. “Though, I guess your point could be validated, but to just walk out like that? Probably the most disrespectful thing you could have done about it, you know what I mean? I was hoping to see at least some fight in you but you decided to be the Messiah and take the bullet for your team- and they put the knife in your back.”
“You’re right. They did. But I see this as a win for me,” he spoke as he placed his hands on his chest, keeping that grin on his face and walking closer to Dominic. “See, I don’t have to wait for what could be a long time to take that pinfall back, they’re on the Fallout roster, which means they’re on my roster. I could go right for them whenever I damn well feel like it and will get the upper hand on me this time? Will they be spoonfed the biggest moment of their careers once again? Absolutely fucking not. Pyro got the biggest career-defining moment he’s had… because I gave it to him. Pyro should be thanking me for the favor, Pyro should be shaking my hand and thanking me for saving his god-awful career.”
“Pyro’s career isn’t…” using quotation marks with his hands. “...’god-awful’ in any way. He’s been doing pretty well for himself from what I’ve been able to see so take that with a grain of salt if you do. Also, if I were you, I’d move out of here before a General Manager or even the head boss man himself comes looking for you and asking for an explanation for your actions. You might be a little bit reformed but you’re still the same hated cunt to everyone here, they all know about you and what you’re able to do.”
Long looked to Dominic and took his words as a bit of a threat to himself, to which they partially were but they also served as a warning for any kind of shit storm that was going to hit the fan if Jason was willing to stay around The O2 Arena for the rest of the event. Long took those words of advice from Dominic, pulling out his light grey zip jacket and placing his arms into the sleeves of the jacket. As he does so, he pauses and begins to think to himself as he zipped the gear bag shut. Dominic notices Long frozen in place and raises an eyebrow. “Jason?”
“Maybe there was more to it than just… not caring for the match itself,” his tone took a softer approach than before, grabbing the arms of the bag and placing it down on the floor just beside his feet as he looked over to Dominic. “I felt like that whole thing I declared on my first night was for nothing, when I said I was coming for whichever championships that were on the brand I was drafted to. That promise I made felt like it was worth nothing like they don’t actually see me as someone who’s truly a strong competition for anyone with a title. Like damn, I know it’s only my second night but surely you’d know that even I am better than these people having title shots, right? Like, there’s some of these fuckers that I’ve watched and I’ve done so much to try and convince myself they worked hard for their title shot when they just didn’t.”
“You know better than anyone else here, you can’t be walking into places and expecting a title shot after one night, hell, you even lost in your debut. I understand where your argument is leading but you have to settle yourself in, as did everyone else when they stepped foot into this company.” Dominic exclaimed, placing his hand on Jason’s shoulder. “Do you really think that being a friend was going to help you to a title shot? You’re gonna have to work your fuckin’ way up, mate. You’re no billy big bollocks here, you’re just a pawn on the chessboard and there are kings and queens that control your every fucking move.”
Long once again sighs. “You’re right. Maybe I am a pawn on this massive game of chess. That means that I’m really going to have to bounce back from this and change shit up, aren’t I? Besides, this is still a new beginning for me, and I’m just getting used to it.”
Long just glanced up at Dominic and saw the blank expression on his face.
“So you’re going to tell me that what you pulled out there was the new Jason Long that everyone should be worried about and scared for?” The rhetorical question gave Jason time to answer but before he could open his mouth, Dominic was able to cut him off. “If that’s the Jason Long that everyone should be fearing then fuck me, Daniel Horror is an absolute god amongst men. You’re in denial, Jay. The past you look to continue to retcon because it’s not what you are now… That shit still leaks out of you like a running faucet. You’re the same asshole living in the world where everything he does is perfect, must have learned that from Anthony Caffrey then, did you?”
That backhanded comment began to let Long's blood boil profusely, the look in his eyes was filled with pure rage as he looked to bite back with either his own choice of words or even a punch right to his jaw but he holds back, biting his tongue and choosing to not speak and continue his silence. Long picked up his bag and headed out of the locker room, but before he could leave, he turned his head back to face Dominic, letting out one final sigh to him.
“After tonight, everything changes. I can’t promise them to be some sort of overnight thing that happens but there’s going to be no more of this shit,” a smile slowly began to grow on his face. “What was that thing you said about me that describes how things are going to be from now on? Something about a heart of change…”
Dominic smirked. “A mouth for war, but a heart for change.”
“That’s exactly what they’re going to be expecting.”
Long gave a fist bump to Dominic as he headed out and closed the door behind him, leaving him behind as he began to walk to the parking lot and head out from London City. Tonight might have proven to have been a roadblock in his journey to a new beginning but he wasn’t going to allow it to end the story just yet, there was still more to be added onto it and he was prepared to continue this story for just a little bit longer.
DREAMS FORMED FROM NIGHTMARES.
The King’s Penthouse, Canton, Ohio -- February 24th, 2021.
The familiar backdrop to a scene was The King’s Penthouse, the home that has been the sight of many memories over the past year and a half ever since Long had acquired it from his friend, Jack Diamond. It was handed down to him upon his initial retirement from the sport of professional wrestling in February of 2019, but was more accustomed to the beauty of The Diamond Lounge for the six months he owned it before losing the rights to it in a match. This would mark Project: Honor’s first appearance of the Penthouse home and upon seeing it with the camera’s panned shots, the place was silent, not a sound to have been made from anywhere, and then the camera pans across to the upstairs portion of the home, where we find The King himself standing upon the edge of it’s balcony area that looked down onto most of the downstairs section of the home.
“Hello, boys and girls.”
His grin set the tone for the shot, his soft-spoken speech was something to indulge in as he would lift himself from the wooden bannisters that held himself up against the edge of the balcony. Although just stepping away from the edge for only a few seconds, the camera shot pans downwards and watches Long slowly make his way down the spiral staircase, finally getting a perfect line of sight at his choice of clothing- the black skin-tight ripped jeans and the black on white leather jacket just over a plain white shirt. The King was dressed to impress, and rightfully so, he had the home to himself for up most to an hour with Savannah out doing her own thing and was waiting for her to come back. Jason saw it as a perfect opportunity to finally get the chance to speak to the people of Project: Honor, since his sudden silence to the company before The Crowning and heading into the next Fallout event with a damn well put out match on the cards, he knew that he wasn’t going to just go quietly.
“I feel as if we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot, with the whole The Crowning thing and just… walking away from the match the way I did, you know? I’ve had time to reflect on that night, and I’ve had time to truly think about things and how to handle things like this. Honestly, I think I owe an apology to those who were there to support me and to cheer me on, and with that… I am sorry. I let emotions get the better of me when I shouldn’t have, I let my own ego be the decision maker on that night and let allowed me to think that I had better places to be- I might have had better places to be than that clusterfuck of shit but I realised that the Tyrant Chamber was the one opportunity I had to actually prove myself, prove my name’s worth, prove to everyone who’s completely new to me as to why I am The King of Professional Wrestling. I would love to just get into the details of why I did what I did but I’d be boring you with all of them, and to be frank, I’m just looking to put it behind me because right now, I need to rethink my strategy and rethink about what I need to do here in Project Honor.”
Brushing his hair back with his right hand to take it away from his eyes and gently placing that same hand along under his chin, almost stroking his beard as he does so. Long took a deep breath but kept the smile on his face as he looked back up to the camera.
“So the question is… what now? I’m either asking myself that or someone else is asking me that after every single fucking loss of mine, and considering I’ve taken two heavy losses here already, I’ve really got no roadmap for myself. I’ve got nothing. At this rate, I’m just doing what I’m doing to win and if I do, then I’m sure someone will tell me I’ve done enough to do this or do that. I’m not going to let myself get over hyped and then shoot myself in the fucking foot because I didn’t live up to the hype that I was getting, you know? A lot of people got really excited when they saw me at Unbreakable Resolution, because I watched back the show and heard those crowd reactions- and how extremely fucking loud they were. Same could have been said about the Draft Show, because that reaction was even louder than the one at Unbreakable Resolution. That’s the kind of shit that makes me thrive in this sport, hearing that alone makes me continue to do what I fucking do-- so when I heard complete silence from the crowd when I got eliminated early on in the Tyrant Chamber, you can imagine how much my heart sank. Although I was more overcomed by my own egotistical self appearing once again, I felt that pain in my stomach and I knew I fucked up. One finisher and I was done? That’s not me, that’s not what I do, anyone can agree with that.”
Long slowly made his way into the dining room area of the home, making his way past the large dining table made out of black metal and a glass base at the top, behind him are all of the pictures of his past career-defining wins over the years, including his past World Championship wins and one piece in the middle of all of his framed photo memories is a custom championship he once held at the beginning of last year. It’s remained hung against this wall since the day he officially lost possession to the championship but he’s kept it as a reminder to push himself through anything until he’s that champion again. Long brushes his hand along the championship’s front place and along the lettering around it that read “X*CROWN CHAMPION”, he then turned his head back to the camera after finally falling back into focus on the task he had at hand.
“I’m aware of what pain feels, but that’s a special kind of pain, to feel as if everyone had just given up on you entirely. Those fans that have been there for you since the very beginning, those fans who’ve been there since day one, and they are in silence… a feeling I wouldn’t put on my own worst enemy, even if he asked for it. But I’ve promised myself that I won’t let that happen again, I won’t let myself succumb to my past ways again, I’m just done with that shit- it brought me nothing more than pain and heartbreak for three years and I’m not letting it continue any more. So, now, we move. Onto better things, onto things that are more important than our past selves, to the present day. I’ve been presented with a hell of a challenge here on Fallout, that challenge being one Kayla Richards. Oh, you heartless bitch. I have to say, I was impressed with yourself when the first Fallout event happened, I was intrigued by what you were all about and then I saw you perform in a dark match and it snapped into me that you’re the kind of bitch that takes zero fucking bullshit whatsoever. But then it came to the Tyrant Chamber, and it dawned upon me when I heard all that shit you were fucking talking about me, witty one liners because that’s all you could come up with and calling me by my previous slave name?”
The King simply scoffed, loud enough to be caught on the camera’s microphone. Finding Kayla’s choice of words she used against Jason in the lead up to The Crowning to be hilarious, and they were, because to Jason- it’s the laziest attempt he’s ever heard of to attack him. Long covered his smile from the camera underneath his right hand as he looked away to gain his composure before settling in and bringing a straight face back into the moment.
“Really? If your only way of making some sort of starting insult is to call me by a name I don’t go by anymore, or not here at least, then you need to think of better ways to insult people. Past relationships too, that’s a weak shot for something that lasted as long as a long weekend, like if you wanted to make a point to me, then why don’t you come at other things I’ve done because I’m sure there’s some shit I’ve done that you’d just love to milk the shit out of and get as much use out of it as you can. Kayla, I expected better from you. Maybe you’ll have given better takes on me since it’s just me and you in that ring and nobody else but I can’t help but to think that you’ll spew the same shit as before. I don’t want that, Kayla, because I know you can do better than that. I’m sure of it! Once again, you seem like the kind of person that’s all about taking zero fucking bullshit from anyone, so where do I stand on your views? Pull out whatever you have on me and recycle it over and over again until you get the point across? That’s how it feels like right now, Kayla. Am I mad about it? Fuck no. Am I disappointed in you? Absolutely. Much like your father, I am very disappointed in you and much your father, Kayla, I will beat the fucking shit out of you for it.”
Grinning from ear to ear with shit-eating smug look on his face, Long felt the need to let out a good chuckle at that home run hit into Kayla’s personal life.
“I may not be an alcoholic but hearing you shit on about nothing actually drives me to fucking drink, Kayla. Now I truly understand how your father felt when he backhanded you those amount of times, sadly enough, he didn’t fucking hit you hard enough it seems. If you asked me to run down what is Kayla Richards in a nutshell, i’d tell you to pull up a pie chart and count along with me with about fifteen percent being zero bullshit tolerance, about ten percent of being a bad bitch with a loud mouth, and the rest of it is just ‘I have uncontrollable daddy issues that I reflect on every day because it’s my trauma teehee’ and pulling away that twenty-five percent of Kayla leaves you with some random girl that’s only personality trait is her own little daddy issues and that in itself proves that she’s just as useless as her family. I’d probably have a better fight with her dad than herself, not because I ‘d rather fight a man than a woman, but I’m not going to fight a woman that’ll flinch every time I’m going to swing for her, you know?”
A rhetorical question that Long just threw out of nowhere for the audience watching on whatever device they’re watching on to answer as he shrugged his shoulders and kept that smug look on his face as he leaned in closer onto the table, placing his hands down onto the glass base of the dining table. Long took a deep breath through his nose, and then soon exhaled back out through his mouth as he nodded his head and looked back to the camera.
“You see how easy it is to just milk something for content when you’ve run out of shit to say? I could have gone on an entire barrage of shit about you and your daddy issues but I knew that it’d get boring after a while, and to me, that’s what you’ve become after a while, Kayla. Boring. Loud mouth bitch on repeat saying the same shit over and over again, and hell, I expected to see you come at me sideways on Twitter! Where was that fire you had in you, huh? I wanted to exchange some words with you there, and see how quick I can set that fire and turn it into a blaze that only some mad arsonist could ever indulge in.”
A quick point of his finger to the camera--
“Pyro, I’m watching you.”
--before bringing his finger to the side of his head, gently tapping on it with that smirk all over his face.
“And I know, I’m not going to tell you how shit you are because you made it to the final two of the Tyrant Chamber, Kayla. You did that all by your fucking self, and you even got past the scottish cunt and the daughter of DDLG’s poster boy, so you got somewhere and you proved your point. I can’t speak on it because I walked out of the chamber, took the pin and said ‘fuck it’ but you know and I know fucking well that if I was still in that chamber? Fighting for my fucking life? I’d make the bruises that your dad give you look fucking tame, and I’d be standing tall over you as a Tyrant but you gave the win to Warstein and his ill-fabled little ego of his. You dumb fucking bitch, you had one job and you fucked it.”
Long sighed as he held his head in shame in his right hand, closing his hand and pinching his nose as he lifted his head back up from his hand.
“Here’s the deal, Kayla. What I said would have happened in the chamber if I was still around? That’s exactly what I’m going to do when it comes to tomorrow night, and I’m not saying that for the shits and giggles either, because right now I have a plan set in my mind and if I make it past you then I’m fucking sorted. Set for whatever comes my way next, and I know that you’re no push over, Kayla, I know that you can bring a good fight but just like you were for Shawn Warstein- you’re going to be the stepping stone once again for those who are just that better than you and when the night is done, you can go back to wherever and think about what you need to do, fight someone you know you can beat, I hear Daniel Horror is looking for challengers to his title. Easy win for you, right? Sacrifices need to be made, Kayla. I’m not looking to make any more, but you on the other hand, you look like you can take a few. See, I’m the King of Project Honor, the King of Fallout, and Tyrant Bollocks over on Proving Ground has no fucking power over here, so y’all are going to have to listen to me. It’s like that old saying, Kayla. For when I speak, they listen and for when you speak, your words fall on deaf ears.”
Pulling a chair out from underneath the table, Long finally decides to take a seat at the table and places his feet upon the table, showing off his black and white Air Jordan Ones, freshly bought and just out of the box. Long uses his right hand to dust them off before leaning back into the chair he sits in.
“And that doesn’t go to just you, Kayla. That goes out to the entire fucking Fallout roster. I might have had a rough start, but that doesn’t mean you count me the fuck out, The King is done playing around and it’s about fucking time someone grew a pair and became the leader around here. I may not be a Tyrant nor a champion but you’ll sure as hell fucking listen to me and pay very close attention to what I do. I’ll cut through each and every single one of you until I am given what I am owed and that is championship. I don’t care which it is, Legacy or Prime, it really doesn’t matter to me because either way, I’ll be holding one or the other very soon. That’s a promise I will keep until the fucking moment that bell rings and I am declared the fucking champion. So, Elena and Nathan, I’d tread carefully if I were you two. I really would want to tread carefully around Fallout now. As for you, Kayla…”
Jason brought himself back down to a more appropriate way of sitting in the chair, his legs off of the table and underneath it as he leaned into the table, his arms crossed as he looked directly into the camera.
“I’m going to do what should have been done a very long time ago. I’m going to end your little fantasy, your little happy dream cloud you’ve been sitting on and I’m going to burn it all to ashes. This isn’t the era of the Dreamkiller, no, this is the reign of the fucking King himself. It’s always been that way, but you are the first one on the chopping block, Kayla. You’re going to have to put up or shut the fuck up, and believe me, I’ve every single intention to kick your fucking head off until you stay silent for good.”
Smiling as he pushed the chair back and slowly stood up from his seat, adjusting his leather jacket and then popping the collar as he stared into the camera lens with that same shit-eating smug look on his face.
“Long may The King fucking reign, everyone. And for you, Kayla…”
Raising his hand up close to his face with the smile on his face.
“Dream ended.”
The King clicked his fingers and the camera feed quickly cut to black, ending the scene.
The O2 Arena, London, England -- February 14th, 2021.
Suffice to say, The Crowning didn’t go as intended for a lot of people, and the aftermath of it all proved that point to be true. Many had taken their leave and walked out of the company over not being able to crown themselves the winners, which was quite an irregular reasoning to even begin with, but none of those mattered at the end of the day, the one man who did matter was Jason Long. His very early elimination from the Tyrant Chamber confused a lot of people, even his most loyal of fans who knew that even he could have easily kicked out of the Curb Stomp from Pyro, he could have easily gotten right back up and beat the hell out of him for even trying to do such a thing. But he didn’t. Jason simply escorted himself out of the chamber and made his way to the back, and at that moment, everyone speculated about what happened. Everyone asked the question of if this was it, this was him walking away from his place at Project: Honor after months of building up since Unbreakable Resolution. After passing through that curtain, everyone within The O2 Arena had just watched Long simply quit everything he had. The lead up to the Tyrant Chamber was quiet from The King, but on the night in question, his actions spoke louder than the words he could have said.
Heading through the backstage area of the arena for Jason was intense, a lot of people side-eyed him as he made his way to the locker rooms- the roster, the stage crew, the producers, and even the general managers all looked at Long as he walked past. He didn’t even give them the satisfaction of looking right back at them, he just walked in a straight line and kept his head up, proud of the choice he made on this night, proud of what he had done to piss everyone off backstage. Once he walked into the locker room, he’s greeted with the sight of an old friend of his- Dominic Morrissey. His expression wasn’t the most pleasant to walk in on, but Long was almost surprised to see him backstage, let alone be in the locker room waiting for Long to walk in.
“Close the door,” the sharp tone from Dominic made Long raise his eyebrow but with another glance up at his friend, Long soon shut the door behind him. “So what the hell was that little performance for, mate? I thought that you were working hard on proving a point when being in Project Honor but all you’ve done was make an arse of everything. I thought me and you said earlier today that there’ll be a new Tyrant crowned and it’ll go straight to the man who’s already crowned a fuckin’ King… where did that plan go to, huh?”
Long looked on in silence, choosing not to speak to Dominic- after all, it’s not his opinion on what he wanted to do, it never was, to begin with. His sole purpose was to help him run down each and every single opponent he had, and with fifteen other people in that match, the list was already immensely long to fly through. Dominic waited for an answer from Long, but all that The King could do was pack his bags and head out of the arena- he had better things to be worrying about, he had better things to be doing in his life than to sit around and be lectured by a friend of his.
“Are we not going to say anything now? Are we just going to play the quiet game because you just decided ‘Nah, not tonight’ like this didn’t mean anything to you?” Question after question was flung right into Long’s direction but they just deflected off of him like it was nothing. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you as of the last… eight or so hours… but I need to fuckin’ know right now. I’m sure everyone else would like to know as well but before you even attempt to make any public announcement as to why you did what you did, you need to let me know so I can tell you if you’re fuckin’ thick as pig shit with a petty excuse.”
“I don’t really have an excuse.”
Dominic’s demeanor could tell you how much he just wanted to strangle the life out of Jason right now. “You what? You don’t have an excuse? I’d much appreciate it if you did so I don’t have to fuckin’ murder you out of pure hatred, having an excuse would save your life right now.”
“Eh… I’m sure it would,” the more that Long continued was the more that Dominic’s blood would boil and it was piping hot right now. Jason continued to pack up the bags of his ring gear, slipping out his wrestling boots and into his Green Carbon Nike Air Max 720 sneakers. “Honestly, after everything this morning. I sat back in those empty seats before they opened the doors and the crowd came in, and I started to reflect on myself what this match really meant to me as a person and what benefits it brought me…”
“And those were?”
A shit-eating grin grew on his face as he fixes his posture and slowly turned his head to face Dominic. “That’s the thing. There’s no benefit for me. I just couldn’t give a shit about some name. I know that you wanted to bring me up to that next level and set me onto a strong showing in my first pay-per-view here but be real with me here, Dom. What does being a Tyrant actually mean? What strengths do I get from being called a Tyrant? I’m positive you can name none.”
Dominic drops his head, brushing his hair back with his right hand before letting out a long sigh.
“Well, if you’re going to go by what the word itself means, then being a tyrant would mean having absolute power. Then again, I doubt that you’d want to go down the route of being a cruel and oppressing leader. With some of those that are in that match, they’d seem like they’d love to be a tyrant.” Dominic could have named almost all fifteen of them for this position because their egos were that much inflated heading into the Tyrant Chamber. About ninety-five percent of those were just fitting of that title, and of course, Jason was too. The match was a clusterfuck of the biggest egos on both rosters and at least one was going to just be that bigger when the match was over and done with. “Though, I guess your point could be validated, but to just walk out like that? Probably the most disrespectful thing you could have done about it, you know what I mean? I was hoping to see at least some fight in you but you decided to be the Messiah and take the bullet for your team- and they put the knife in your back.”
“You’re right. They did. But I see this as a win for me,” he spoke as he placed his hands on his chest, keeping that grin on his face and walking closer to Dominic. “See, I don’t have to wait for what could be a long time to take that pinfall back, they’re on the Fallout roster, which means they’re on my roster. I could go right for them whenever I damn well feel like it and will get the upper hand on me this time? Will they be spoonfed the biggest moment of their careers once again? Absolutely fucking not. Pyro got the biggest career-defining moment he’s had… because I gave it to him. Pyro should be thanking me for the favor, Pyro should be shaking my hand and thanking me for saving his god-awful career.”
“Pyro’s career isn’t…” using quotation marks with his hands. “...’god-awful’ in any way. He’s been doing pretty well for himself from what I’ve been able to see so take that with a grain of salt if you do. Also, if I were you, I’d move out of here before a General Manager or even the head boss man himself comes looking for you and asking for an explanation for your actions. You might be a little bit reformed but you’re still the same hated cunt to everyone here, they all know about you and what you’re able to do.”
Long looked to Dominic and took his words as a bit of a threat to himself, to which they partially were but they also served as a warning for any kind of shit storm that was going to hit the fan if Jason was willing to stay around The O2 Arena for the rest of the event. Long took those words of advice from Dominic, pulling out his light grey zip jacket and placing his arms into the sleeves of the jacket. As he does so, he pauses and begins to think to himself as he zipped the gear bag shut. Dominic notices Long frozen in place and raises an eyebrow. “Jason?”
“Maybe there was more to it than just… not caring for the match itself,” his tone took a softer approach than before, grabbing the arms of the bag and placing it down on the floor just beside his feet as he looked over to Dominic. “I felt like that whole thing I declared on my first night was for nothing, when I said I was coming for whichever championships that were on the brand I was drafted to. That promise I made felt like it was worth nothing like they don’t actually see me as someone who’s truly a strong competition for anyone with a title. Like damn, I know it’s only my second night but surely you’d know that even I am better than these people having title shots, right? Like, there’s some of these fuckers that I’ve watched and I’ve done so much to try and convince myself they worked hard for their title shot when they just didn’t.”
“You know better than anyone else here, you can’t be walking into places and expecting a title shot after one night, hell, you even lost in your debut. I understand where your argument is leading but you have to settle yourself in, as did everyone else when they stepped foot into this company.” Dominic exclaimed, placing his hand on Jason’s shoulder. “Do you really think that being a friend was going to help you to a title shot? You’re gonna have to work your fuckin’ way up, mate. You’re no billy big bollocks here, you’re just a pawn on the chessboard and there are kings and queens that control your every fucking move.”
Long once again sighs. “You’re right. Maybe I am a pawn on this massive game of chess. That means that I’m really going to have to bounce back from this and change shit up, aren’t I? Besides, this is still a new beginning for me, and I’m just getting used to it.”
Long just glanced up at Dominic and saw the blank expression on his face.
“So you’re going to tell me that what you pulled out there was the new Jason Long that everyone should be worried about and scared for?” The rhetorical question gave Jason time to answer but before he could open his mouth, Dominic was able to cut him off. “If that’s the Jason Long that everyone should be fearing then fuck me, Daniel Horror is an absolute god amongst men. You’re in denial, Jay. The past you look to continue to retcon because it’s not what you are now… That shit still leaks out of you like a running faucet. You’re the same asshole living in the world where everything he does is perfect, must have learned that from Anthony Caffrey then, did you?”
That backhanded comment began to let Long's blood boil profusely, the look in his eyes was filled with pure rage as he looked to bite back with either his own choice of words or even a punch right to his jaw but he holds back, biting his tongue and choosing to not speak and continue his silence. Long picked up his bag and headed out of the locker room, but before he could leave, he turned his head back to face Dominic, letting out one final sigh to him.
“After tonight, everything changes. I can’t promise them to be some sort of overnight thing that happens but there’s going to be no more of this shit,” a smile slowly began to grow on his face. “What was that thing you said about me that describes how things are going to be from now on? Something about a heart of change…”
Dominic smirked. “A mouth for war, but a heart for change.”
“That’s exactly what they’re going to be expecting.”
Long gave a fist bump to Dominic as he headed out and closed the door behind him, leaving him behind as he began to walk to the parking lot and head out from London City. Tonight might have proven to have been a roadblock in his journey to a new beginning but he wasn’t going to allow it to end the story just yet, there was still more to be added onto it and he was prepared to continue this story for just a little bit longer.
DREAMS FORMED FROM NIGHTMARES.
The King’s Penthouse, Canton, Ohio -- February 24th, 2021.
The familiar backdrop to a scene was The King’s Penthouse, the home that has been the sight of many memories over the past year and a half ever since Long had acquired it from his friend, Jack Diamond. It was handed down to him upon his initial retirement from the sport of professional wrestling in February of 2019, but was more accustomed to the beauty of The Diamond Lounge for the six months he owned it before losing the rights to it in a match. This would mark Project: Honor’s first appearance of the Penthouse home and upon seeing it with the camera’s panned shots, the place was silent, not a sound to have been made from anywhere, and then the camera pans across to the upstairs portion of the home, where we find The King himself standing upon the edge of it’s balcony area that looked down onto most of the downstairs section of the home.
“Hello, boys and girls.”
His grin set the tone for the shot, his soft-spoken speech was something to indulge in as he would lift himself from the wooden bannisters that held himself up against the edge of the balcony. Although just stepping away from the edge for only a few seconds, the camera shot pans downwards and watches Long slowly make his way down the spiral staircase, finally getting a perfect line of sight at his choice of clothing- the black skin-tight ripped jeans and the black on white leather jacket just over a plain white shirt. The King was dressed to impress, and rightfully so, he had the home to himself for up most to an hour with Savannah out doing her own thing and was waiting for her to come back. Jason saw it as a perfect opportunity to finally get the chance to speak to the people of Project: Honor, since his sudden silence to the company before The Crowning and heading into the next Fallout event with a damn well put out match on the cards, he knew that he wasn’t going to just go quietly.
“I feel as if we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot, with the whole The Crowning thing and just… walking away from the match the way I did, you know? I’ve had time to reflect on that night, and I’ve had time to truly think about things and how to handle things like this. Honestly, I think I owe an apology to those who were there to support me and to cheer me on, and with that… I am sorry. I let emotions get the better of me when I shouldn’t have, I let my own ego be the decision maker on that night and let allowed me to think that I had better places to be- I might have had better places to be than that clusterfuck of shit but I realised that the Tyrant Chamber was the one opportunity I had to actually prove myself, prove my name’s worth, prove to everyone who’s completely new to me as to why I am The King of Professional Wrestling. I would love to just get into the details of why I did what I did but I’d be boring you with all of them, and to be frank, I’m just looking to put it behind me because right now, I need to rethink my strategy and rethink about what I need to do here in Project Honor.”
Brushing his hair back with his right hand to take it away from his eyes and gently placing that same hand along under his chin, almost stroking his beard as he does so. Long took a deep breath but kept the smile on his face as he looked back up to the camera.
“So the question is… what now? I’m either asking myself that or someone else is asking me that after every single fucking loss of mine, and considering I’ve taken two heavy losses here already, I’ve really got no roadmap for myself. I’ve got nothing. At this rate, I’m just doing what I’m doing to win and if I do, then I’m sure someone will tell me I’ve done enough to do this or do that. I’m not going to let myself get over hyped and then shoot myself in the fucking foot because I didn’t live up to the hype that I was getting, you know? A lot of people got really excited when they saw me at Unbreakable Resolution, because I watched back the show and heard those crowd reactions- and how extremely fucking loud they were. Same could have been said about the Draft Show, because that reaction was even louder than the one at Unbreakable Resolution. That’s the kind of shit that makes me thrive in this sport, hearing that alone makes me continue to do what I fucking do-- so when I heard complete silence from the crowd when I got eliminated early on in the Tyrant Chamber, you can imagine how much my heart sank. Although I was more overcomed by my own egotistical self appearing once again, I felt that pain in my stomach and I knew I fucked up. One finisher and I was done? That’s not me, that’s not what I do, anyone can agree with that.”
Long slowly made his way into the dining room area of the home, making his way past the large dining table made out of black metal and a glass base at the top, behind him are all of the pictures of his past career-defining wins over the years, including his past World Championship wins and one piece in the middle of all of his framed photo memories is a custom championship he once held at the beginning of last year. It’s remained hung against this wall since the day he officially lost possession to the championship but he’s kept it as a reminder to push himself through anything until he’s that champion again. Long brushes his hand along the championship’s front place and along the lettering around it that read “X*CROWN CHAMPION”, he then turned his head back to the camera after finally falling back into focus on the task he had at hand.
“I’m aware of what pain feels, but that’s a special kind of pain, to feel as if everyone had just given up on you entirely. Those fans that have been there for you since the very beginning, those fans who’ve been there since day one, and they are in silence… a feeling I wouldn’t put on my own worst enemy, even if he asked for it. But I’ve promised myself that I won’t let that happen again, I won’t let myself succumb to my past ways again, I’m just done with that shit- it brought me nothing more than pain and heartbreak for three years and I’m not letting it continue any more. So, now, we move. Onto better things, onto things that are more important than our past selves, to the present day. I’ve been presented with a hell of a challenge here on Fallout, that challenge being one Kayla Richards. Oh, you heartless bitch. I have to say, I was impressed with yourself when the first Fallout event happened, I was intrigued by what you were all about and then I saw you perform in a dark match and it snapped into me that you’re the kind of bitch that takes zero fucking bullshit whatsoever. But then it came to the Tyrant Chamber, and it dawned upon me when I heard all that shit you were fucking talking about me, witty one liners because that’s all you could come up with and calling me by my previous slave name?”
The King simply scoffed, loud enough to be caught on the camera’s microphone. Finding Kayla’s choice of words she used against Jason in the lead up to The Crowning to be hilarious, and they were, because to Jason- it’s the laziest attempt he’s ever heard of to attack him. Long covered his smile from the camera underneath his right hand as he looked away to gain his composure before settling in and bringing a straight face back into the moment.
“Really? If your only way of making some sort of starting insult is to call me by a name I don’t go by anymore, or not here at least, then you need to think of better ways to insult people. Past relationships too, that’s a weak shot for something that lasted as long as a long weekend, like if you wanted to make a point to me, then why don’t you come at other things I’ve done because I’m sure there’s some shit I’ve done that you’d just love to milk the shit out of and get as much use out of it as you can. Kayla, I expected better from you. Maybe you’ll have given better takes on me since it’s just me and you in that ring and nobody else but I can’t help but to think that you’ll spew the same shit as before. I don’t want that, Kayla, because I know you can do better than that. I’m sure of it! Once again, you seem like the kind of person that’s all about taking zero fucking bullshit from anyone, so where do I stand on your views? Pull out whatever you have on me and recycle it over and over again until you get the point across? That’s how it feels like right now, Kayla. Am I mad about it? Fuck no. Am I disappointed in you? Absolutely. Much like your father, I am very disappointed in you and much your father, Kayla, I will beat the fucking shit out of you for it.”
Grinning from ear to ear with shit-eating smug look on his face, Long felt the need to let out a good chuckle at that home run hit into Kayla’s personal life.
“I may not be an alcoholic but hearing you shit on about nothing actually drives me to fucking drink, Kayla. Now I truly understand how your father felt when he backhanded you those amount of times, sadly enough, he didn’t fucking hit you hard enough it seems. If you asked me to run down what is Kayla Richards in a nutshell, i’d tell you to pull up a pie chart and count along with me with about fifteen percent being zero bullshit tolerance, about ten percent of being a bad bitch with a loud mouth, and the rest of it is just ‘I have uncontrollable daddy issues that I reflect on every day because it’s my trauma teehee’ and pulling away that twenty-five percent of Kayla leaves you with some random girl that’s only personality trait is her own little daddy issues and that in itself proves that she’s just as useless as her family. I’d probably have a better fight with her dad than herself, not because I ‘d rather fight a man than a woman, but I’m not going to fight a woman that’ll flinch every time I’m going to swing for her, you know?”
A rhetorical question that Long just threw out of nowhere for the audience watching on whatever device they’re watching on to answer as he shrugged his shoulders and kept that smug look on his face as he leaned in closer onto the table, placing his hands down onto the glass base of the dining table. Long took a deep breath through his nose, and then soon exhaled back out through his mouth as he nodded his head and looked back to the camera.
“You see how easy it is to just milk something for content when you’ve run out of shit to say? I could have gone on an entire barrage of shit about you and your daddy issues but I knew that it’d get boring after a while, and to me, that’s what you’ve become after a while, Kayla. Boring. Loud mouth bitch on repeat saying the same shit over and over again, and hell, I expected to see you come at me sideways on Twitter! Where was that fire you had in you, huh? I wanted to exchange some words with you there, and see how quick I can set that fire and turn it into a blaze that only some mad arsonist could ever indulge in.”
A quick point of his finger to the camera--
“Pyro, I’m watching you.”
--before bringing his finger to the side of his head, gently tapping on it with that smirk all over his face.
“And I know, I’m not going to tell you how shit you are because you made it to the final two of the Tyrant Chamber, Kayla. You did that all by your fucking self, and you even got past the scottish cunt and the daughter of DDLG’s poster boy, so you got somewhere and you proved your point. I can’t speak on it because I walked out of the chamber, took the pin and said ‘fuck it’ but you know and I know fucking well that if I was still in that chamber? Fighting for my fucking life? I’d make the bruises that your dad give you look fucking tame, and I’d be standing tall over you as a Tyrant but you gave the win to Warstein and his ill-fabled little ego of his. You dumb fucking bitch, you had one job and you fucked it.”
Long sighed as he held his head in shame in his right hand, closing his hand and pinching his nose as he lifted his head back up from his hand.
“Here’s the deal, Kayla. What I said would have happened in the chamber if I was still around? That’s exactly what I’m going to do when it comes to tomorrow night, and I’m not saying that for the shits and giggles either, because right now I have a plan set in my mind and if I make it past you then I’m fucking sorted. Set for whatever comes my way next, and I know that you’re no push over, Kayla, I know that you can bring a good fight but just like you were for Shawn Warstein- you’re going to be the stepping stone once again for those who are just that better than you and when the night is done, you can go back to wherever and think about what you need to do, fight someone you know you can beat, I hear Daniel Horror is looking for challengers to his title. Easy win for you, right? Sacrifices need to be made, Kayla. I’m not looking to make any more, but you on the other hand, you look like you can take a few. See, I’m the King of Project Honor, the King of Fallout, and Tyrant Bollocks over on Proving Ground has no fucking power over here, so y’all are going to have to listen to me. It’s like that old saying, Kayla. For when I speak, they listen and for when you speak, your words fall on deaf ears.”
Pulling a chair out from underneath the table, Long finally decides to take a seat at the table and places his feet upon the table, showing off his black and white Air Jordan Ones, freshly bought and just out of the box. Long uses his right hand to dust them off before leaning back into the chair he sits in.
“And that doesn’t go to just you, Kayla. That goes out to the entire fucking Fallout roster. I might have had a rough start, but that doesn’t mean you count me the fuck out, The King is done playing around and it’s about fucking time someone grew a pair and became the leader around here. I may not be a Tyrant nor a champion but you’ll sure as hell fucking listen to me and pay very close attention to what I do. I’ll cut through each and every single one of you until I am given what I am owed and that is championship. I don’t care which it is, Legacy or Prime, it really doesn’t matter to me because either way, I’ll be holding one or the other very soon. That’s a promise I will keep until the fucking moment that bell rings and I am declared the fucking champion. So, Elena and Nathan, I’d tread carefully if I were you two. I really would want to tread carefully around Fallout now. As for you, Kayla…”
Jason brought himself back down to a more appropriate way of sitting in the chair, his legs off of the table and underneath it as he leaned into the table, his arms crossed as he looked directly into the camera.
“I’m going to do what should have been done a very long time ago. I’m going to end your little fantasy, your little happy dream cloud you’ve been sitting on and I’m going to burn it all to ashes. This isn’t the era of the Dreamkiller, no, this is the reign of the fucking King himself. It’s always been that way, but you are the first one on the chopping block, Kayla. You’re going to have to put up or shut the fuck up, and believe me, I’ve every single intention to kick your fucking head off until you stay silent for good.”
Smiling as he pushed the chair back and slowly stood up from his seat, adjusting his leather jacket and then popping the collar as he stared into the camera lens with that same shit-eating smug look on his face.
“Long may The King fucking reign, everyone. And for you, Kayla…”
Raising his hand up close to his face with the smile on his face.
“Dream ended.”
The King clicked his fingers and the camera feed quickly cut to black, ending the scene.
