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Fanatic v Roslov

TheOriginalSE

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Joined
Jan 1, 2000
Messages
2,379
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Age
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Location
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Website
newera.fwrestling.com
Take hold of Greatness; then take it.

* Fanatic RP for C03.


FADE IN.

We are introduced to a park with the sun setting in the distance. Colors in seemingly no particular pattern bleed into one another against the palette of the sky above, making for a unique blend of nature‘s choosing-- oranges, reds, yellows, and a light hue of blues. Nearer to our view, we find the Elite Enigma, Fanatic, involved in some form of stretching exercise. Wearing his black bodysuit and mask, with the gold infinity insignia embedded across the mask, gloves, and boots, he is currently propped up in a handstand… on an oil drum, it appears. Larry Tact, dressed in a pair of grey SilverTab jeans, Calvin Klein ribbed shirt, and Kenneth Cole leather jacket, seems to be providing oversight. As Fanatic lowers himself, his legs spread out to be fully horizontal to his torso. He manages to keep his wrists and arms steady, and lowers each leg on two oil drums to either side of him. Then, Tact removes the drum that was his previous support, leaving him spread across the two drums in a holding position that would probably make any Yogi approve.

Tact, for his part, leaves his younger brother to his seeming meditation and approaches closer to the forefront of our view. He fiddles with a silver Rolex on one wrist, tapping it a couple of times, then flashes a momentary grin and speaks in his typical basso.


LARRY TACT: “Timing can be everything. Last week, the time felt all but ripe for the picking. We had a hold of the fruit of victory, and were just about to drink from its sweet nectar. Unfortunately, sometimes the skin can be deceiving from what you‘ll find within, and we couldn‘t quite break through. You found yourself in the grace of fortune’s smile, E, but I can honestly say… you didn’t really prove your point clearly. You failed to make your point with impact enough to brush us away. See, Fanatic? One loss is hardly going to stop him from reaching the destination he’s headed to. If you’re perfect, you’re obviously not playing the game fairly. And while I believe that there are times you do whatever it takes to win… E, you aren’t worth playing that card. Not yet, maybe not ever.“

“Like it or not, Fanatic is still relatively new here. And while I know EXACTLY where his potential will take him, and where the only place he will truly be able to realize that potential in New Era is… even if the record shows an “L” last Cyberstrike, he stood toe-to-toe with a former Champion of this promotion, and nearly pulled out the win. Who has done that to Mister Entertainment in their first time out? For an opening act, it‘ll do.”

“But now the coin flips just a bit, or at least props on the fence. This week, neither Fanatic nor this Alexander Roslov are particularly known quantities. I realize it won’t be enough to just win the match. But just the same, it might fall short to JUST win the match.”

He smirks.

“I mean, if it were only about wins and losses, then they would have reopened this place with me walking out and just being HANDED the New ERA World Heavyweight Championship. Maybe Marcus would have even toted it on the back of that wench of a former VP, Juliet Marceau, while she CRAWLED to the ring to present it to me. If we went by wins and losses, I would be the TRIUMPHANT VICTOR by default.”

“But it isn’t just about wins and losses. It’s about making statements. See, the “master of Entertainment” knows all about flashy statements and “pizzazz,“ I’ll give him that. Unfortunately, he was too busy just trying to SURVIVE against Fanatic last week, it didn’t leave him a spare breath or moment for making a real statement.“

“We won‘t make that mistake this week. Fanatic is going to show ALL of New ERA what a real statement is. Except it won’t just be any old beat down. That would be pointless. It will be HIS statement, something that will make another mark to remember on his road to the top, where it matters to be.”

Fanatic has begun to shfit again. He bends back over slowly, and with an almost inhuman flexibility, reaches his hands to touch the concrete ground. Then he allows his legs, which were still laterally spread across the drums, to relax and naturally rise up and back in line with the rest of his body, leaving himself in a handstand.

“See, a traditional mauling of this Roslov would be unconventional for my brother. That would be bland and uninspiring… kind of like Chaos. It doesn’t leave an impression of who this is, or what he does. It only gives the thought that the assailant is violent… somewhat mindless, or, one-track minded… bloodlusting… perhaps deranged… really, a dime a dozen in this sport. How many muscle heads are there in wrestling? You may as well gather them all in a ring and let them go blooding each other until only one stands, a real gladiator-style event. And you know, I would even give Chaos a puncher’s chance in that kind of hunt. But in a title hunt? Clearly, we see the reason “wrestling” is not spelled F-I-G-H-T-I-N-G. IT’S WRESTLING.”

“This Alexander Roslov probably doesn’t grasp that concept, either. Not that he’s just some stereotypical big, burly… possibly hair-ridden… maybe drunk more often than sober in his waking hours… generic Russian strong guy…”

He pauses, scratching his clean shaven chin, then shakes his head and waves it off.

“No, of COURSE not! This guy isn’t big enough, burly enough, or drunk enough to possibly be a generic Russian strong guy. And he’s billed as a “technical” wrestler…(laughs incredulously)… I won‘t even get into how insultingly watered-down technical wrestling has become. Shame… but I digress. My point is, Roslov has not shown very much at all, so far-- wrestling, fighting, or otherwise. He probably believes he doesn’t have to, given the wealth he likely accumulated from a trust fund his rich… dead… parents left him. I might even wager his aunt and uncle who raised him may have let him keep the silver spoon in his mouth when he left for this side of the Pacific.”

“Not sure if they‘re dead now, too, but hey… misery loves company, right? And Roslov is about as miserable an heir as you can have in a family.”

“He is, essentially, what some people thought I might become. But I didn’t just rest on my laurels, EXPECTING Greatness to find me and bow at my knees. No one is that good, and too many others are hungry enough to stop it. So I decided to go find Greatness, grab it by the throat, and nail it like a petty, greedy b**ch... until its very core was exposed. And then I took that essence of Greatness from its core, and I wore it like a badge, DARING anyone to come take it.”

“And my brother has every intention of doing just that. As Alexander Roslov will discover… he’s going to be stripped down to his core, as well. Just, in a different way. A way that’s going to make a statement to all of New ERA.”

He chuckles, then looks back at Fanatic. The masked Enigma is still holding in position, except now he has his weight held up by only his thumbs!

“We were trying to think of what would be a good way of making our statement this week. Like I said, beating an unknown like Roslov wouldn’t amount to much. That’s why, this week, Fanatic is not going to wrestle to win…”

“He is going to wrestle until Roslov GIVES HIM the win. At Cyberstrike, Alexander Roslov will admit defeat. And he will not succumb under the threat of pinfall, or submission. He will give in of his own free will.”

“None of you understand the type of POWER Fanatic wields. You don’t have any idea of what he brings to the table. But week by week, we will make it more clear. And eventually, each of you will understand the true threat that lies within the prospect of facing the Elite Enigma.”

He smirks more broadly, turning back to Fanatic and walking over as the Elite Enigma pushes off the ground with his thumbs, and manages to propel himself enough to land on his feet. He stares at the camera through the mesh passages of the mask that obscure his eyes, and speaks in misty, murky tones.

FANATIC
“The core of strength is not in size, or speed, alone. We make use of what we gain … but we all start with the same base. We are all made … of the same elements … and merely manipulate them with altered intentions. Roslov … find your peace with your gifts … so that when they meet my own to clash, in the confines of Cyberstrike … know that those gifts will not be enough. For you meet one who has manipulated his core … to a different standard … with a goal still in the distance … and yet to be reached in the New Era of Wrestling. But before exercising the true talents within this core … you will first be shown the way … of the Craze …”

“… all in a blur.”

FADE OUT.
 

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