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Chris Richards

Brock

League Member
Joined
Jun 2, 2013
Messages
7
Points
1
Handler Information
-
Name: Brock
Email Address: bestell04@gmail.com
Best Way to Contact You:(Forum PM/AIM/Facebook/Email/other) discord? I go by Brock in the efed podcast discord
eWrestling Experience:(What have you done? Where?) fWo, tA, PIW, LoC, I was around the block a lot in the 2000's. Been on and off with a number of Dan's reboot attempts, or failed projects by other people. Currently active in EWC.
How did you find DEFIANCE? Talked to Tom, Roland, and Lindz about it over the years. I've been on and off with reading shows.
Are you willing to write matches? Yes.

Writing Sample

I'm going to use some more recent work from a role-play federation I am currently in. Most of my match writing/segment/angle fed material has been lost to the bowels of the internet and the wayback machine. (PS if anyone can find Rana vs Token Weed from some point in fWo it'd be great, or old tA main events.) This roleplay will include a lot of character shoot, but hopefully shows some character development.
The roar of the F250's motor had gone quiet. Clay stared at the home in front of him. He had grown up on this land, a year ago he had come home from a successful career in Japan to work this land and care for his aging father. Clay could picture the home just inside the doorway, Robert Byrd in his chair, the television blaring so Robert could make out half of what the characters were saying…

Clay swallowed hard, how many times had he sat here in this spot, dreading what would be said on the other side of that door? He couldn't count them, but he could remember the worst of them. The sting of the last one, what had transpired, it was inexcusable for both men. They loved each other, but both of them being stubborn had escalated the situation.

———————————
3/12/2019
Byrd Ranch

Clay threw the door open angrily and tossed his bag across the hardwood floor. Before Clay had finished slamming the door Robert was already on him.

"What in the hell is that all 'bout!" Robert shouted as loud as his labored breathing would let him. Clay turned towards the old man, fire in his eyes.

"I FUCKING LOST!" Clay roared, but he wasn't done. "I lost my fuckin' chance at that piece of fuckin' tin again Pa!"

"Well if ya…" Robert started in, but Clay wasn't having it.

"I ain't gettin' 'nother look at that title for 'least four or five months! Shots like that don't come up every day Pa, and I ain't gettin' any younger!" Robert smirked as Clay was ranting. He knew he had to knock Clay down a peg, he was already acting entitled. Like he deserved a shot at the title because his career was hypothetically shorter.

"Clay, you're right. Ya ain't gettin' any younger, but them brass ain't out there passin' out title shots to every wrestler on the roster over 30 years old. Ya got beat, and ya got beat because ya didn't fuckin' listen," Robert slid the last shot in, but he had the upper hand in the argument.

"If ya wouldn't of been so god damned stubborn, read the damn scouting report, did the damn work, Cyrus Black wouldn't of dropped you like a sack of shit with that kick to the back of the melon. I told ya, in the report, he could strike, especially when ya weren't expectin' it. I said he was smart, knew how ta play possum, instead he made you look fuckin' stupid," Robert was seething. He was mad for Clay, at Clay, and his son had to learn this lesson.

"Then, goin' out there and sayin' you weren't doin' the studyin' on that damn podcast? The hell was that all 'bout? No son of mine acts that way," Robert said the last line to drive the point home. He could see the daggers rip through Clay. Each word laced with a little bit of venom, and as Clay turned towards him Robert could see the fire in Clay's eyes.

"No son of yours? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Clay stared at his old man, he hadn't felt this way towards his father in years, the anger, the resentment.

"What the fuck do you think it means?" Robert said back coldly. Clay paused for a second, wringing his hands together before looking up into Robert's eyes.

"Fuck you." It was the first thing that came to Clay's mind, and it summed up his feelings pretty well. Robert went to respond, but Clay held one finger up and continued. "I come back home, I leave a career, a life, I left my world to come home to take care of you, and that's your response? Yeah, that's how I feel. Fuck. You." Clay said, his words now coated with venom. They were aimed to bite back at Robert, he couldn't get physical with his old man, but he could do the next best thing. Attack his pride.

"Ya think I need ya? Boy, ya need me more than ya even know. Hell I'm halfway runnin' your damn career out here, and have been since day fucking one. Ya wouldn't have that truck, ya wouldn't of had that damn career in Japan, and you sure as hell wouldn't of managed to get yourself this far in the EWC!" Robert shouted at him, he had instigated the argument, and he was going to finish it. Clay walked over to his bag and tossed it back over his shoulder.

Robert realized in that moment that he had gone too far. Clay marched back to the door and opened it. He turned around and looked coldly at his father, his stare said everything that Robert needed to hear. Robert tried to speak, but Clay stopped him, "I'm fuckin' done."

The door slammed as Robert tried to stammer an apology… He angrily turned his television off, and strained to hear the start of Clay's truck. The truck started and Robert shifted in his chair uncomfortably, as his son tore down the driveway he sat his head into his hands. As the seconds turned into minutes, and the minutes turned into hours Robert sat quietly thinking. As the reality of the situation began to set in, Robert Byrd began to cry.
—————————————

With the memory playing back through Clay's thoughts, he sat with the driver side door propped open. His cowboy hat sat in the passenger seat, one hand held his head, the other his phone. Clay scrolled through the contacts and finally landed on the one he was looking for. He pressed the call icon, and quickly ended the call as fast as he started it. His phone immediately started to ring, he hadn't stopped the call quite fast enough.

'Chucky W' was the name that popped up across Clay's phone, he silenced the call at first. The second call in a row he paused for a moment and answered.

"Ya," Clay said into the phone as he finally moved away from the truck.

"Whatcha need?" Clay sighed, half of it was the relief of what he was about to do, the other half was the dread.

"Come up to the ranch,"

"I can't just drop everything and come to the ranch…" Chuck interjected, Clay responded sternly.

"I'm ready ta talk, 'bout everythin' Chucky," Chuck paused for a second before answering.

"I'll be up," the call ended, and Clay slowly slid his phone in his pocket. Finally he mustered up the will to stand up, eyes still on the barn. Clay finally moseyed towards it. Clay unlocked and unwrapped the familiar chain around the handle, and slid in through a small gap.

The familiar smell of sweat hung in the air, the smell had now combined with the smell of must and dust. Clay crinkled his nose as he flipped the large power switch for the lights. He could see the layer of dust caked on the table, and on the ring. None of the equipment had been used since March.

Clay took his Carhartt off, and began to work on cleaning his surroundings. As a few moments turned into hours. It was a six hour drive from Austin to Plainview, and there was only so much cleaning that could be done in the barn. He walked over and spread himself out on the bench of the picnic table. Slowly, but surely, the giant Texan drifted off.
—————————————

The door to the barn opened, and Robert Byrd stepped through. Clay was at work on the heavy bag, running through his normal drills. The barn door interrupted the sounds of taped fists smacking leather. Clay pivoted and acknowledged his fathers presence.

"Hittin' that bag ain't gonna get ya everythin' ya need before Monday," Robert said as Clay finally stopped, running his hands through his long hair.

"Well Pa, I reckon I gotta practice doin' somethin' till ya finished up with that scoutin' report," Clay said with a grin. Robert held up his iPad, letting Clay know it was finished.

"Got what yer lookin' fer right here," Robert said with a bit of a grin. Clay walked over to the table and sat quietly. The two Byrd men began to digest the information.

"Gabby V… She's a tough one Clay, hard as nails, has a lot of fight in her. She's been rounds with Cyrus a few times, got a bit of a rivalry there. Prolly wanna let her get isolated in this 4 way dance, let a few of the other fellers pound on her and slow her up a bit. She's quick, but Black's really got her number," Robert said as he continued through the profile he worked up.

"Black's got just about erryone's number Pa," Clay mumbled as Robert continued.

"She's one o' them jumpers Clay, errything's in this kinda match I don't think thats really where ya wanna be… Between the potential of you swingin' a lariat at her while she's divin' on someone, and Scorps bein' able to hit that AGR cutter… Just doesn't suit her style," Robert said confidently.

"Ya Pa, I get it. She's prolly gettin' some advice from her Pops as well. Plus she's got that sicko Tommy Love followin' her 'round. Prolly figurin' he can make a difference out there, specially in this settin'. Lot of chaos goin' round in that ring. Figure that lil sicko will make his presence known somehow… Well besides tryin' ta figure out how ta seed that Creme feller or somethin'," Clay continued. "I figure the he'll be out there ta be a distraction, plus he hates himself some kiltbros. Looks like a bit of an alliance to mess with Cyrus, which only benefits me."

Robert nodded, "Plus, who the hell calls themselves a gremlin?"

"I figure as long as we ain't out there with a firehose, and we don't feed her after midnight we should be good, long as she doesn't turn into one of those creepy fuckin' things we'll be alright," Clay and Robert shared a chuckle.

"Now ol' Scorps, boy done lost his mind," Robert said scrolling on the ipad.

"Ya act like he really had it in the first place," Clay said shaking his head, he continued on. "I mean, who's weapon of choice is really a damn hair dryer? They weigh what? Like two fuckin' pounds? Lemme get out their and hit a guy with a finely molded plastic fuckin' hair dryer. Hell, even if the damn thing was stainless, it'd weigh what? Like five pounds? Hell, pick up the fuckin' ring bell and hit someone with that, hit that Ace feller with my fuckin' work boot. Them steel toes gotta at least weigh five pounds, and I bet it would hurt like a bitch."

Clay continued to shake his head, "Seriously though Pa, a fuckin' hair dryer?"

"I'm with ya on that one, I mean he's another lil one Clay. Dangerous as hell in that ring though, he ain't gonna be slammin' your big ass anytime soon. He's another one with a bone to pick with Cyrus. He sure has managed to piss em' off on his way to the top hasn't he?" Robert said as he continued to focus on his iPad.

"I don't think ya get there by makin' friends Pa," Clay chimed in.

"You're right on that one son, really I think you're gonna be the grizzly bear in that ring. If you can keep 'em from focusin' on ya and teamin' up, ya should be able to handle what's goin on in that ring," Robert stated confidently.

"I mean, Cyrus is the feller with the target on his back. Havin' two belts tends ta do that to ya," Clay said while nodding.

"Ya, and he's the one ya gotta watch the closest," Robert added sternly.

"I know Pa, I ain't gettin' kicked in the fuckin' head again," Clay looked at his father, assuring him.

"Luckily, Cyrus is in there fightin' for pride," Robert said as he continued to go through the scouting report.

"He ain't in there fightin' for his life, just like for Scorpio, they already got this all figured out, goin' ta wrestlefest with title matches on their minds," Clay said with a slight smile.

"Ya don't think their proud?" Robert asked, trying to bring Clay back to earth.

"I didn't say that Pa, I'm just sayin' they got somethin' else on their mind. Cyrus is out there lookin' over his shoulder, wonderin' when his lady is gonna stick him in the back with that knife. Scorps is tryin' ta figure out which lady Ace King is dressin' up like this week to try to kick his ass, Gabby's got her own set of problems tryin' ta keep ol' Tommy's hands to his damn self," Clay smirked as he made the comment.

"But they'll wanna kick yer ass," Robert assured Clay.

"They will Pa, but it don't mean as much to them as it does ta me, I'm gonna kick their asses, and I'm gonna make a real nice visual out of it, just like I did to ol' Gooey last week," Clay said with a snarl. "Ya think Cyrus got the message?"

"Son, that feller is a hell of a wrestler, but he's thicker than a milkshake left in the freezer for a few hours," Robert chuckled to himself. He loved watching Cyrus in the ring, but his statement had a lot of truth behind it.

"Yer right, prolly didn't think twice about me tryin' to rip Kyle's head off. Turns out I was doin' Kyle a favor by givin' him head trauma, had ta check out all three of them lil legs of Cyrus' last week," Clay said as he continued to laugh.

"Three of 'em?" Robert asked, slightly confused and concerned.

"Gooey walked in on a real awkward situation Pa, said the boy had to bulk up, comin' from all 195 pounds of Gooey that's sayin' somethin" The two Byrd men roared in laughter. After a few moments of silence they finally acknowledged each other again.

"Feel's good doin' this with ya again…" Robert said to Clay

"Sure as hell does Pa, sure does," Clay said back…

"Clay,"

"Clay,"
——————————

"CLAY! I DIDN'T DRIVE SIX HOURS FROM FUCKIN' AUSTIN TO WAKE YOUR ASS UP!"

Clay was startled so badly he almost rolled off the bench. Quickly reality began to set back in for him, it was cold in the barn, and he had fallen asleep after cleaning the barn. Now, he was borderline freezing. Clay rushed over to his Carhartt, pulling it on quickly and zipping it up, jamming his hands in his pocket.

Chuck laughed at the entire thing, the giant man looked ridiculous being startled and running across the barn, and throwing on a jacket like a little kid. "Clay I ain't seen ya move like that since drills your Freshman year."

"It's fuckin' cold out here Chuck, I walked in, and this place looked like a shit hole, had ta give it a good scrub. If Pa was here he'd a been all horns and rattles," Clay and Chuck laughed for a second before Chuck brought them back to the sober reality of the situation.

"So, why in the hell did you have me come all the way up here?" Chuck said as he walked over and clapped Clay on his shoulder.

"I want ya to be the first ta report it, none of them smart writers have reported anythin' yet," Clay said somberly.

"What are you talking about Clay?" Chuck asked, he was as confused as he could be.

"Let's head over to the house Chucky, I need some help walkin' in there," Clay said as he shut off the lights to the barn and the two longtime friends strolled across the driveway. They walked up onto the porch, and Chuck started to analyze the situation. Clay pulled out his key, and stuck it in the lock. Chuck stopped him for a second.

"What the hell happened Clay?" Chuck asked as the two stood at the entrance to the house.

"I… I… I just need ta go in here Chucky, let's talk inside," Clay said as he twisted the knob. Once again the smell of dust hit the two friends right in the face. The room was dark, the television turned off. Robert's chair sat empty, and the house was silent.

"Clay…" Chuck was stunned. He had never seen that chair empty, especially never in the middle of the day.

"He's gone," Clay said as he stood in the walkway, staring into the living room. Clay reached behind Chuck and pushed the door shut. Chuck stood in shock at the doorway for a moment.

"He's gone? Like did you have to put him in a home?" Chuck asked confused. Clay just looked at the hardwood floor, he was analyzing the wear of years and years of shoes and boots leaving behind scuff marks.

"Naa," Clay said, he couldn't bring himself to look at the green recliner in the corner. Chuck was finally starting to pick up the gravity of the situation. He left Clay at the doorway as he entered a little bit further into the house.

"When's the last time anyone was here?" Chuck asked, he was going to try to be as useful to his friend as he could be.

"I walked in for about three minutes back in April, ta grab some clothes," Clay said. It hurt to walk into the home his father had owned, had lived in, and had raised Clay in. It hurt just to stand there, the flood of memories washing over him.

"I'm going to run some water on the faucets, leave a slow drip running," Chuck said as he went around the house making sure things were still working. He turned the heat on, making sure the home was at least not totally going to hell.

"Thanks Chucky," Clay said with a nod. Chuck came back from the few sinks in the home, and Clay still hadn't moved from the doorway.

"You need anything else in here?" Chuck asked, he could feel the hurt coming off of Clay. It emanated from him, the pain, Chuck couldn't even imagine.

"Naa," Clay said as the two stepped back outside.

"You alright?" Chuck asked as the two men made it back to the porch.

"I will be, I need ya ta come on a ride with me too," Clay said as he took a deep breath.

"Anything you need Clay, lets go…" Chuck said as the two walked towards the truck. "You haven't been sleeping in the barn this whole time or something… right?"

Chuck always could make Clay crack a smile, and this time was no different. "No Chucky, I ain't been sleepin' in the barn. I got a damn hotel." Clay said shaking his head with the smile on his face. The two hopped up into Clay's F250 and headed down the road.
————————————

The two stood in Plainview Memorial Park. The Robert and Martha Byrd's headstone sat in front of them. The wind was blowing and the sun was starting to set as the two friends stood over the grave. Clay's face was red, and Chuck wasn't sure it was from the wind, or if his friend had been crying. He wasn't sure how long the two had stood there, but he'd be by his friends side through whatever he needed.

"So, you want me to report it?" Chuck said, finally breaking the ice. The two hadn't talked since they left the driveway for the ranch.

"Ya, yer the only one o' them reporters that really knew him, he talked about some asshole up in Greensboro every once in awhile. Was gonna have that feller do it, but he was a bit of an asshole. Plus, you knew Robert Byrd, not Big Texas… I mean ya know what Pa did, but he wasn't one of them wrestlers to ya, he was yer friends Pa," Clay said as he nodded.

"Ya, that's how I want it done, I want ya to write about Pa as a man first, then I want ya to tell his story Chucky," Chuck nodded in return.

"I can make sure it happens that way, anything else?" Chuck asked as Clay finally stood and strode back towards the truck from the grave.

"Naa Chucky, that's what I need done. I know ya didn't know Ma, but make sure ya put in there he loved his wife. As much as the old man said she gave him a ton of shit, he did really love her, and he missed her like hell. Ya could tell every time he talked 'bout her," Clay made sure Chuck understood the importance of it by grabbing his hand for a handshake.

"I can do that, Clay, I'm going to need to know what happened…" Chuck asked as the two started to hop up into Clay's F250.

"Well, I was in Japan at Stranglemania when it started. Turned out the ol' man got the pneumonia, the docs told me it was a complication of his emphysema. I thought it was 'cause we got into it the week before after the Cyrus debacle… but that wasn't it. 'Parently he was sick anyway, so I rush back from Tokyo, spend the next few days takin' care of 'em in the hospital. He didn't have the strength no more ta fight it, and he passed away," Clay finished still nodding his head.

"It's weird Chucky," Clay stated, but continued. "I feel like the weight of the world is off my shoulders now, I was carryin' this 'round, tryin' ta figure out how ta handle the public side of it all. Feels a hell of a lot better ta have it fuckin' done," Clay said with a big grin on his face.

"Now it's my problem, and if I don't do it right I have to answer to some monster pro-wrestler," Chuck said with a bit of a laugh.

"I got faith in ya Chucky, lets go get a bite ta eat," Clay said as the two men finally got up into the truck.

————————————

I've had a lot on my mind since Stranglemania, I've been out there grindin' with the weight of the world on my shoulders, tryin' ta forget about the responsibilities I took on bein' the son of a great man. Now? Now that's all behind me.

What's in front of me is what's important.

What's in front of me is Gabby, she's had more chances ta take out Cyrus than anyone runnin' 'round here. Well… maybe besides California. The point's still made, ya keep gettin' ta this point sugar, but ya can't seem ta break through. Can't get through to that elite level. Ya had yer shots, and ya can beat up on all of them other fellers. But they put ya up against the elite, them ladies and fellers who have that next gear, and ya ain't got it sweetie.

I weigh more than two of you, I'm a foot and a half taller and I got a motor that doesn't quit. Gabby, ya can call yerself whatever 80's movie character ya want, try to be as wacky and weird as ya want. None of it's gonna matter in that ring, ya can come out there with Tommy dressed as Howard the fuckin' Duck, and you dressed like a neon pink Gizmo. Yer still gonna be at a physical disadvantage, and if I catch ya in that ring, yer gonna get folded in half.

What else is in front of me: 'The Bitch' Scorpio. THE BITCH IS BACK, great catchphrase. I'm sure it took ya and Creme awhile to come up with that one. Figured ya both were gettin' yer nails done, havin' a pedicure and it suddenly struck ya.

Lemme tell ya somethin' about bein' 'The Bitch.' Bein' 'The Bitch' means ya whine, ya make up bullshit lung issues so ya don't have ta go out there and wrestle Cyrus and Ace. Cause ya ain't got enough faith in yerself ta get it done. Bein' 'The Bitch' means ya go out there and run away from Ace in a dress… I mean if I saw Ace in a dress I'd of been a bit worried, but really, runnin' away? Bein' 'The Bitch' means ya were out there kissin' babies and tryin' ta be cool with Georgie a couple months back, bein' 'The Bitch' means ya can turn it on and off whenever ya want.

I can't turn it off Scorp, I ain't got it in me. I'm a son of a bitch, I'm a mean ol' cuss with a fuckin' rope. I'll choke the shit out of ya, I'll smash yer fuckin' melon in with some doorknobs ta make a point, I'll make sure yer boy gets the point by makin' a fuckin' example out of ya. I'll crawl through whatever ya put in front of me ta try ta get after ya, that's bein' a son of a bitch.

But yer 'The Bitch.' Ya sure ain't no son of a bitch.

What's in front of me is a chance at redemption. I started this entire bullshit Summer of Cyrus. I was the first domino to fall and start this whole chain reaction. It's my fault he got the shot at Iggy, it's my fault he got into that Undisputed title match.

Cyrus Black is my fuckin' fault.

And I'm goin' ta set it right. Everyone wants a crack at the man while he's got both of them titles wrapped around his waist, I'm not here just fer that. I'm in this match fer the opportunity. Win, lose, or how most of Cyrus' important matches have ended lately, Draw. I'll be waitin', waitin' ta set this entire thing right. Put that cocky asshole back in his place. I don't need the tin on the line, I don't need nothin' besides Cyrus' confidence on the line.

He's had a hell of a year, a hell of a year that could of been mine. This is a chance fer me to show all of 'em that the first altercation was a fluke. I had ya beat, and I lost my concentration, I didn't see the leg sweep comin' and I deserved the kick in the back of the head for it. I deserved ta get laid out in the middle of that ring in at the Enterprise Center, and I'm gonna deserve standin' over ya in the middle of the ring in Kentucky.

I'm an old dog Cyrus' but I can still learn a new trick or two, and ya don't stay in this business makin' the same mistake twice. What I did to yer friend Gooey on Rampage, that was a message Cyrus, I ain't gonna make the same mistake twice. This time, I'm gonna take yer fuckin' head off with a lariat, and we're gonna put some doubt out there. Were gonna get that one on one showdown I want, were gonna get that rubber match Cyrus. I'll let Mel get that knife in yer back real deep, Wrestlefest will be like watchin' Titanic all over again, it'll be long as hell, we'll watch Mel say she'll never let go while she lets you fuckin' drown with the big ass diamond tucked away.

I'll wait till all that's done Cyrus, I'll wait till yer either at yer lowest because ya had ta do what needed done in that match, or you'll be at yer lowest because ya lost, and I'll be there. I won't be needin' ya ta have the tin 'round yer waist when I come callin'. But believe me, right here, this is the start of it. This is the start of the fall, and I'll be there at the bottom to stamp it all out. Start that second set of dominos.

See ya Monday, I can't wait ta get started with the fall.


------
Edited like Tom asked.


Also adding a link for google doc if the forum is stupid. I do most of my writing from my MacBook so that may have something to do with it.
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1diBuJDC9Pt3e73w0dYAyYj4dZPlnUuT0s6D-iokiuWk/edit?usp=sharing


Wrestler(s) Information

Please take note of a couple things. It is highly likely that a few roster members will critique your moveset. Please don't be offended. We take that seriously here - we don't want a moveset full of finishers and a finisher so ludicrously over-elaborate that it couldn't be done in real life. This goes double if you're applying as a female wrestler. We also check to make sure your finisher(s) and theme song aren't currently being used. It's first come first serve when it comes to those. If you want to get ahead of the game on the finisher and theme song front, take a look at our roster page: http://defiancewrestling.com/roster

And if you're one of those handlers who hates doing movesets, just say so and we'll help you.

Ring Name: Chris Richards
Height: 6'2"
Weight: 240 lbs.

Hailing From:(This is where your character is introduced as being from) Youngstown, Ohio

Alignment:(Heel or Face? You may not play a Tweener without special staff permission) Face

Gimmick:(Describe your gimmick. If your wrestler isn't heavily gimmicked then describe his/her persona.) Young, new, going to develop as the stories dictate. Chris will be beginning his career as a babyface searching for guidance. Will need assistance handling the rigors of professional wrestling. Chris is 23 years old, and gave up a full ride scholarship to Ohio State (linebacker) to move to Japan to become a professional wrestler. Having done all he could as a young boy, Chris has gone on his own to prove himself in America.

Wrestling Style:(Tell us a little bit about what your wrestler does in the ring and the general psychology behind it.) Elite Athlete.

Three Weaknesses: Young, Inexperienced, Risk Taker

Three Strengths: Powerful, Explosive, well trained.

MOVESET

Ten regular moveset moves:

1) Chain Wrestling
2) Snap Suplex
3) Exploder Suplex
4) DDT
5) DDT Variants
6) German Suplex
7) Spear
8) Prefers to strike with forearms or elbows.
9) Pele Kick

2-5 trademark moves:

1) Roaring Elbow
2) Tiger Bomb (difficult situations hitting finisher/worn on/beat down)
3) High Angle Suplex Variations
4) Trading Forearms/elbows in the middle of the ring
5) Rolling/Chaining Suplexes

1 Finishing Move:
High Angle Tiger Suplex that can be performed with a pinning variation

1 "MDK" (murderdeathkill) Finishing Move (Rare Special Occasion Finisher) (Optional) Backdrop Driver

---------------------

Covering this: I'll be asked about my dedication to the hobby. From 14-20 I was a solid workhorse, always ending up on staff or in high visibility roles in places like the Asylum. At that point I would of been vouched in anywhere. Upon my journey, especially with the fWo, I would commit to things I could not follow through with. Which led to some people who may be here having sour tastes in their mouth about me. I understand I'll have to prove myself, however, I'm an old man now who wants to write a story. I've become frustrated with the roleplay side of things, and the lack of character depth I can build. I'd like to work with some of you all again and would appreciate the opportunity.

Thank You,
Brock
 
Last edited:

Roland

OBJECTION!
Joined
May 22, 2017
Messages
181
Points
18
Location
Edinburgh, UK
Hiiiiiiiiiii Brock.

Yes from me...

Conor Fuse can unlock you. >.> <.<

Looks like Mikey isn't the only recruiter anymore... :) :) :)
 

Ford

UTA Hall of Famer and All-Around Nice Guy
Staff member
Joined
Jan 6, 2005
Messages
1,076
Points
36
Age
40
Location
Los Angeles, CA, formerly PA
Website
www.genlmnop.com
Hi Brock,

I like what you've said. I will ask that you re-format your writing sample. It seems FWC may turn " into ? and cause formatting issues with pasting text.

I'll have to reach out to Chad or Pete or Lindz and see what can be done about that for the future.

That being said, if I ask those edits to a submitted app of someone I don't know when they apply, I'll ask that of you when you apply.

Thank you!
 

QueenOfTheRing

AKA Mom
Joined
Jan 1, 2000
Messages
2,625
Points
36
I'll have to reach out to Chad or Pete or Lindz and see what can be done about that for the future.

It either has something to do with where people are copying/pasting from, or it?s a bug in the forums and Chad needs to update them. I?m gonna say the latter because this has been happening more recently, even with people just posting on the forums, and the boards have been outdated for a long time. I don?t talk to Chad anymore so I?ll leave it to you to reach out.

Anyway, Brock gets a yes from me. I?ve read what he?s done in EWC with Byrd and I like this concept. Can see a potential tag team with Declan Alexander in the future, maybe???

EDIT: See what I mean, Ford? I posted this from my phone.
 

Brock

League Member
Joined
Jun 2, 2013
Messages
7
Points
1
Side note: If that happens to anyone else they can come to the forum, type the character the forum uses into a reply window, copy it and do find and replace in google docs for the same character. Seems really dumb, but it fixed it. I think we had that problem with CGI scripts in the early 2000's and it was way worse to figure out lol.

Also for Lindz, I won't be using Clay here. Not yet anyway. Still running him in EWC. This would be a new character created for DEFIANCE. I've tried to run this character one other place, but it closed 2-3 shows in. Whatever Ant's last fed was.

Edit has been made
-Brock
 

Ross

Member
Joined
Jan 17, 2013
Messages
42
Points
8
Aside from the ? which has plagued many posts, my vo?te? i??? ? ?? ????? ...?

Just kidding lol. It's a yes from me as well.
 

Roland

OBJECTION!
Joined
May 22, 2017
Messages
181
Points
18
Location
Edinburgh, UK
This would be a new character created for DEFIANCE. I've tried to run this character one other place, but it closed 2-3 shows in. Whatever Ant's last fed was.

Hmmmm, sounds familiar.

You're just lucky he didn't job TF to LLB.

:)
 

Stalker

I stalk, because I care
Joined
May 2, 2007
Messages
894
Points
18
Age
40
I think this is a pile on vote but.. definite yes!
 

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