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Sylo v. Leyenda de Ocho v. Christopher Ryan Eagles v. Xoesh the Zith

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fugginVOSS

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Intergalactic Championship Qualifying Match

Tables, Ladders, Chairs Match


Hanging thirty feet above the ground, beside the ring, is a briefcase containing the contract to face the Intergalactic Champion at V for Victoralicious.

Sylo
versus
Leyenda de Ocho
versus
Christopher Ryan Eagles
versus
Xoesh the Zith




RP Deadline: November 4th, 2012 @ Midnight Los Angeles time
RP Limit: 3 RPs maximum - no word limit!!


All roleplays to be posted in this thread!!
 

J The Ripper

FWrestling's Reckoning
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Count the Bodies:

Aria Murphy came skipping down the set of stairs that led to the personal gym that was now her and Sylo’s home. She carried a piece of paper, a protein shake, and a digital camera as she entered the massive gym. Sylo, coincidently, was racking up a bar from bench pressing and sitting up as Aria popped up right in front of him. Sylo cocked an eyebrow as his fiancée stared down at him, rap music blaring in the background, as she shouted out at Sylo.

“THEY ANNOUNCED YOUR MATCH FOR THE INTERGALTIC TITLE! WELL RATHER FOR YOUR SHOT AT IT!” Aria yelled over the music.

“WHAT?” Sylo yelled.

“I SAID,” Aria took a deep breath and almost knocked Sylo back. “THEY ANNOUNCED YOUR MATCH FOR YOUR CHANCE AT THE INTERGALACTIC TITLE!” Sylo roared a little as it felt like his ear drum exploded. He grabbed the controller and turned the music off.

“Okay, there, now maybe I won’t go deaf. So, what’s the deal?” Sylo reached out and took the protein shake from Aria as he looked up at her.

“Okay well it’s a table, ladders, and chairs match. The contract to face the champion will be hanging above the ring in a briefcase ” Aria smiled. “Which shouldn’t be a problem because you proved you can climb a ladder and win. You did it against SVJ for the Legacy title just months ago. Plus this is the environment fit for the “King of the Underground” isn’t it?” Aria smirked but Sylo just glared up at her.

“And who do I have to tear through to get to this contract?” Sylo was all business now.

“Leyenda de Ocho Christopher Ryan Eagles and Xoesh the Zith” Aria stated, all business herself now.

Sylo paused for a long moment in quiet contemplation.

“Who?”

Aria almost fell over. She sat down at the edge of the bench and stared at Sylo as he wiped sweat away with a nearby towel. Aria stared at Sylo with a stern look only she could get away with.

“You really should keep up with the wrestling world more.” She scolded Sylo.

“Okay then Ms. Wrestling, you tell me who they are.” Sylo quipped back.

“That’s not important! They’re not my opponents they’re yours!” Aria crossed her arms, obviously defensive.

“Okay let’s see we have a guy with the last name Ocho so it’s either a relative of Chad Johnson and decided to change his name to something stupid or he’s a lucha. Christopher Ryan Eagles, uh, possibly half man half bird? I’d DNA test Big Bird.” Aria giggled a little as Sylo continued. “And Xoesh the Zith, it sounds like I’ll be fighting the living embodiment of an STD so maybe I should let the other two fight him. I don’t want to catch whatever that asshole has.” Aria laughed again and then looked at Sylo again.

“Either way, we need to do a video.” She informed her fiancée.

“Why?”

“Because people want to see you say the things you just said to me. They want to see the SuperBeast proclaim his intentions and let them know he still runs his kingdom from his throne of skulls.” Aria stared at Sylo again.

“Yeah but can’t I do the same exact thing by just beating the shit out of these three nobodies? I mean that’s the equivalent of “proving I have control of my kingdom” isn’t it?” Sylo cocked an eyebrow again.

Aria sighed and stood up.

“No. It isn’t. Now, we’re doing this so bring the pain…sweetheart.”

Sylo moved over to where his original titles were mounted. On the wall were the PIW Heavyweight title, the original Legacy Title and Underground Titles he won in LoC. The jOlt championship rested in the center of them plus the specialty made “Unified” championship that Legacy gave him when he won both titles and the three original titles from jOlt that he won since the originals were in the jOlt hall of fame. Pictures lined the wall as well, various moments of his career, as well as three giant banners: PIW, LoC, and jOlt.

Aria opened the camera and pointed at Sylo as the light went on.

“So, you want the SuperBeast you’ve got the SuperBeast. You want destruction? You now have the definition of destruction. Now you want The overall King, The King of the Underground, the man that was bathed in the Underground in the ways of extreme to step into a table, ladders, and chairs match against three plebeians? I hope you know you’re sending these pariah’s to their untimely demise.” Sylo rolled his neck, all the bones and tendons creaked and cracked as he did so, and the intensity began to rise.

“I don’t know any of you and honestly? I don’t care to know any of you because you can run the simulations and every.single.time it’ll come out the same. The SuperBeast wins by a land slide after he’s knocked all three of you right the fuck out! So, allow me to introduce you to your executioner. You’re looking at a multi-time champion in federations bigger than the ones you dream of being in. You’re looking at the living embodiment of a nuclear bomb and that bomb? It’ll go off on all three of you until you’re pissing yourself and begging for mercy but if you expect to find mercy from The Human Natural Disaster you’re even dumber than you all look.” Sylo snarled before rubbing his hands together.

“I’m an artist where you’re just….wrestlers. My canvas is 24x24 and I love to use the color red. Violence, intensity, and a ruthless aggression unmatched by anyone that’s ever stepped into the ring is my art. I’m the master designer and you’re all just tools for me to paint yet another master piece. You’re just three more bodies to add to the giant pile I’ve accumulated in a career that’s landed me in two hall of fames and when I’m done it’ll be three. What have you three done? Because if it was worth a damn I would know you.” Sylo laughed a little to himself. It was a deep sinister laugh.

“All you are to me? Targets. Because the three of you stand in the way of MY title shot. You should feel lucky though because even though I’ll probably end your career you’ll be able to say you stepped into the ring with the SuperBeast and walked away, well, maybe not walked, but you lived to say it and just like that you’ll be an instant legend just because of me. Don’t get it twisted, I’m one dangerous man, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes to get that briefcase. So if you do show up I recommend just laying down and playing dead that way you can at least carry on with your pathetic attempt to be somebody because in a land of giants, monsters, and everything that goes bump in the night you’re looking at the King. The three of you are privileged because you’re three little ants looking up at the face of God. Flock to me sheep.” Sylo closed his eyes for a moment before staring directly into the camera.

And I shall slaughter you all.”

F/O
 
Last edited:

J The Ripper

FWrestling's Reckoning
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What Dreams may Come pt. 1:
The Land of Intergalacticus

And Sylo dreamed:

---
Intergalacticus was a land divided. It was a continent conflicted with dissension and strife. Each kingdom around had house representatives but each claimed to be king but there were actual kings. The king of Intergalacticus was none other than lord Atken. He lived in the center, in the biggest palace, and had the biggest army. Many had tried to invade and take the crown but they always fell short by the might of the king’s army.

To the east you had the kingdom lead by house Ocho who claimed not only were they the kings of the east but also the true and rightful heir to the throne of Intergalacticus. They lived across the sea and mainly dealt in silk trade. Many of the cut throat pirates hailed from the east, across the dead man’s sea which gained its name from pirates killing and pillaging ships before throwing the crew’s dead bodies overboard.

To the South West was the kingdom of Xoesh the Zith. Xoesh lead a kingdom of necromancer who dealt in the dark arts. It was said their army would rise from the dead to keep fighting due to being imbued with dark magic. Xoesh had schemed to take the throne for some time and scouts from every kingdom that had actually made it back with their life reported that Xoesh’s undead army was growing every day.

To the very south you had the Eagles led by son of lord Edward Reginald Eagles who died in a glorious battle to try to usurp the throne. It’s said that lord Atken himself was the one that separated his head from his neck and placed it on a pike. Years after lord Christopher Ryan Eagles had became obsessed with avenging his father and taking the throne as his own.

The other kingdoms of the Harmon’s, the Thompsons, as well as the Destructo’s all had been fighting one another before moving upon the throne. That left only the north lands. No one ever stepped foot in the northern mountains unless it was very carefully because the northern tribes all bended knee to lord Sylo who had taken all barbarian tribes and brought them under one banner. Lord Sylo was called The SuperBeast because it was said that he one time ran through an army of fifty men with just his legendary sword: The Legacy. The Legacy was a beautiful blade and could split a hair in half.

Lord Sylo sat upon a throne made of bones from more of his worthy adversaries. At his side always sat Lady Aria whose throne was made of pure gold but designed with razor sharp edges. Just like her it was beautiful but deadly. No one had ever been foolish enough to attack the north. The mountain ridges made it almost impossible for an army to attack with full strength which allowed the armies of the north to just pick their opponents off one by one until there was nothing but a huge stack of burning bodies. Plus, the North Mountains contained an abundance of gems and diamonds making them one of the richest regions in Intergalacticus. Add in the fact that if somehow an army made it to the summit they’d find themselves staring at one of the most unassailable structures known to man.

The walls stood so high it was as if they softly kissed the sky. Inside, villagers lived on the lower level and had plenty of room to grow crops and harvest live stock. The second tier was an abundance of shops where most of the commoners congregated during the day. The third tier was reserved for the meat of the troops and their personal housing for them and their family. Two sets of barracks lined the sides making it a simple and rapid process to be armored up and ready to fight at a moment’s notice. Finally, at the very top, was the pinnacle of it all. The palace had been deemed “Death’s door” because anyone that made it to that point was usually dead before they were drug before the King. It was made by one of the best stone masons to ever live many centuries past and the structure had more than withstood the test of time. The inside was decorated with blue tapestries with golden borders with the king’s personal sigil embroidered in the center. Along various columns and the smoky gray walls hung trophies of various battles that the king himself had claimed in times of war.

And the king could feel that war was in the air.

The smell of death was prominent.

Violence was inevitable.

The king of the Northern Barbarian Tribes, King Sylo, sat upon his throne of the dead and beside him sat his beautiful and deadly queen. The two giant double iron doors swung open as two guards drug a cloaked individual in. He wasn’t harmed, just roughed up a bit, as they dropped him at the steps leading up to the king. King Sylo just stared down at the cloaked individual with a look of boredom and apathy.

“My liege” One of the guards said as they both knelt. “This man asked for an audience and said that he had a message to deliver but he wouldn’t tell anyone but you what it was.”

King Sylo stood up and slowly made his way down the steps. Legacy was firmly planted in one hand as he put the tip of the blade on the hood of the cloak and threw it off the man’s head. He was pale and reeked of blood and death. Sylo eyed the individual a moment before squatting eye level and staring into the eyes of the messenger. He had pearl white pupils which meant either he had experimented in the dark arts or someone had tortured him. Either way, King Sylo had never feared magic and believed only fools and cowards would resort to such measures.

“You come to my kingdom with the mark of death upon you. That was your first mistake. You refuse orders from my guards and demand a personal audience with me without my approval. That was your second mistake. I suggest that you choose your next words wisely and make sure this message is worth your life. Otherwise, Legacy will taste blood and trust me;” King Sylo stared with pure malice “Legacy yearns for the taste of blood.” King Sylo stood once more and the messenger quickly stood staring at the king.

“My Lord,” The messenger’s chest rose and fell quickly as his frail body trembled. “I was but a simple farmer until the necromancers took my family and I. They did wicked things to us all. They turned everyone I loved into monsters. I escaped but not before finding out very urgent information. I come to you seeking refuge in exchange for this information.” The informant slowly looked up before looking quickly at the floor.

The guards just laughed.

Sylo pointed the blade of Legacy under the man’s chin and lifted his head making him stare into the cold blue eyes of winter itself.

“You dare try to bargain? Your life is forfeit in this palace. You will receive whatever I decide your information is worth. Pray that at the very least it’s your meaningless life.” The King snarled.

“Yes my lord, sorry my lord. I heard the necromancers’ talk of Xoesh the Zith and his plans to try to take the North. It also seems that House Eagles as well as House Ocho have the same designs but that means they’ll be at war with one another as well unless an alliance is made. Xoesh has planted spies inside both House Eagles as well as House Ocho. They’ve tried to plant spies inside the North but it seems all northerners have the ability to smell death and kill them on site.” The messenger trembled.

King Sylo moved back to his throne and sat down, propping up on one elbow, and stared down at the messenger. He eyed him for a solid minute not moving at all as the poor man just shook like a hairless dog in a snow storm. His icy gaze seemed to pierce is soul and his head swirled with darkness until finally the king spoke again.

“Do you know why that is, Southerner? Do you know why we can smell death?” Sylo asked.

“N-No my lord.”

“Because every man that serves under my banner and I have seen death. We have lived inside death itself and walked back out the other side. We’ve seen death himself look at us in the eyes of our enemies as well as in the eyes of our fallen comrades. We do not fear death, no, we embrace him like a brother and that is why we can smell death.” Sylo stared into the eyes of the messenger as he spoke.

“Y…You’ve seen death?” The messenger asked, eyes wide, and mouth half slack.

“More times than any man alive could count. Not even the God’s know how many times we’ve seen him. Now, I’m curious about something.”

“Y…Yes, my lord?”

“How do I know you’re not a different kind of spy? How do I know this isn’t a trap and you’d see my empire fall here and now? I know how we can tell.” Sylo nodded to one of the guards who gave a scroll of parchment to the messenger along with a dagger.

“Read those words. Swear fealty to my kingdom and then cut your own palm. At that point you will have sworn, in blood, to me, my queen, my guards, and the entire God’s watching that you are what you say you are. If you’re lying the wound on your hand will never close and you will slowly bleed to death. It’s a very painful way to die and it takes days sometimes. So think carefully before you do so.” Sylo leveled his gaze on the messenger and without hesitation he read the oath and slit the palm of his hand. Bright red droplets of blood stained the pledge turning to a dark brownish-red on the paper.

Everyone sat in silence until the messenger finally held up his palm and showed the King where the wound had healed. Sylo nodded.

“Now, you are one of us. Tell me what more you know.” Sylo propped on one hand again as he stared at the messenger.

“I know a small scouting party from each region is headed to the North. They’re about a day’s travel away. I also know that King Atken wishes for you to swear fealty to him. According to what I heard if you do so he’ll give you complete control of the north and the full backing of his army. He’s extending this deal to everyone whether they’re a king or just the head of a house.”

Sylo rose from his throne with a tidal wave of rage crashing down on him.

“I kneel to no man! I bend no knee, I kiss no ring, and I wipe no ass for some would be kings pathetic army. Tell me, has King Atken ever fought beside the “might” of his great army? No! He hides behind iron doors and boys, letting the innocent be slaughtered like sheep and he wants me to swear fealty? Here’s my answer.”

Sylo spit to the side.

“Marcus!” Sylo shouted as a large man, not nearly as large as Sylo but still large, came into the throne room. “Send 100 of our best men to take out this scouting party and get the troops ready! Tell them we’re about to seize more than just the north! We’re taking all of Intergalacticus as our own! Legacy will finally taste blood again! TO ARMS!” King Sylo roared.

---

“Justin….Juuustin…JUSTIN!” Aria yelled.

“Huh, what?” Sylo looked around half asleep.

“You were talking in your sleep again. Mind keeping it down?” Aria looked mad enough, Sylo decided not to provoke the vicious vixen anymore.

“Sorry. Goodnight.”

The two kissed and Sylo slipped back…back into the same exact dream.

TO BE CONTINUED….
 

brusch

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“…when did I become the most reasonable voice in the room?”

(The camera opens to gameplay of Legend of Zelda: Majora’s Mask. The screen is paused on a shot of Link’s inventory; specifically, the four transformation masks a player can hold at a given time. Leyenda de Ocho provides the voice over.)

Ocho: “I am the first to admit that I’m a wrestler who comes with a few…quirks. I’ve always felt a close bond with Link; his adventuring spirit, the way he defies odds, the way he crusades against evil and topples giants. Whenever I’m upset or I need to look within myself, I find myself plugging into any number of games from the series. However, it may be this specific game - Majora’s Mask - that may be the best way to explain who I am to a man as ignorant as Sylo.

In this particular game, Link can wear many masks. Some are funny, some are bizarre - some manifest genuine physical change in him. And I get it…I do. People may call it obsessive or neurotic or something else entirely (and believe me, I’ve heard it all before), but masks do the same to me. When I wear a Pac Man mask, his mentality becomes mine; when I wore a Triforce mask in the first-ever Intergalactic Championship match, it was to embody my quest for the ultimate honor.”

(On screen, Ocho selects the Deku Mask and has Link put it on; a moderately horrifying transformation, complete with screams of confusion and possible anguish, is shown. Completed, Link now resembles a small creature made of wood with an enormous trunk/snout on his face. Deku Link scurries around quickly, stopping occasionally to shoot projectiles out of his face at smaller enemies.)

Ocho: “Sylo asks a good question - who am I? And the truth is, sometimes I don’t know the answer either. However, no matter what - whether I’m attuned to Mario or Sonic or Ness - I am the heart. The pumping, ever-beating heart that will climb any obstacle, face any challenge, and throw all of myself into the fire because it’s the only way I know how to live.

Sometimes it doesn’t work out the way I want; just ask Phil Atken. But after you ask him that, ask the fans…ask the boys in the back…ask anyone you like whether or not I belonged in that moment. Ask them if they think I’ll get there sooner rather than later. Chances are, you’ll get a lot of yesses.”

(On screen, Ocho switches Link to the Goron Mask. Another similarly horrifying transformation sequence - screams, darkness, a body being warped. Link stands, a bit taller and more muscular - a veritable stone-man. Goron Link powers through enemies with great strength and power as Ocho continues to speak.)

Ocho: “Being over 7 feet tall and a heaping mountain of muscles with the ability to crush men like grapes and the accolades to back up his legacy does make you a tough man, Sylo. But, I think being a 5’8” and 188 pounds dripping wet, stepping into a ring with that same tough blue-haired SuperBeast and two other men who will certainly fight their hardest makes me tough too.

You may call yourself an artist…I’m a gamer. You may paint the mat with our blood…but I understand what it takes to win.

I will never deny your strength or your size; frankly, it’s pretty intidimating. But, I have strengths too. Speed, agility, my brain and my heart; these will certainly come in handy in this type of match. This is TLC rules, fellas. Fortunately for someone like me, I don’t need to make a real-life hill troll tap out. It is a matter of finding my moment and climbing that ladder - and I guarantee you, I’m a fast climber.”

(Link switches masks a third time, putting on the Zora Mask to an all-too-familiar scene of temporary horror. Zora link is much taller, much more graceful than in his other forms. He fights fluidly, progressing through the late stages of the game. He works his way to the surface of the Moon - the ever-present danger that may destroy the world of Majora’s Mask.)

Ocho: “I am very excited about a few things, though. For that precious Space Invader belt, we have a genuine Space Invader competing! Xoesh, after our match, I would love to spend some time with you and ask you some questions; specifically to see if Motherships are real, and if they all make that same annoying sound from the arcade game. Maybe we can watch Coneheads together, too. Coneheads is a movie. Movies are long stories told on a screen. Stories are…nevermind. This could go on for a while.

And, Christopher Ryan Eagles. In the sea of insanity that the IGC has created where the famous names are off their rocker and the less-famous ones still have names like Magnus Destructo, I see a bit of a kindred spirit. Christopher has fought for the Intergalactic Championship. He, like me, knows how important this title truly is. He, like me, won’t stand for people who have never heard of the IGC title or the men who have given everything in their body simply for a chance at gold trying to puff out their chests, play out Game Of Thrones fantasies, and declare blind superiority over the world simply because ‘nickname’.

I may not be the biggest or the strongest. I may have been defeated by Phil Atken. But I will never stop in my pursuit of the Intergalactic Championship. There’s even a brand new mask for the occasion…”

(Link has one more mask to put on - the Fierce Deity Mask. The mask is a face with a wide blue V that comes down the forehead and three red stripes that wrap around each eye. Pointed earts and pointed white hair stick out from an ethereal blue glowing hood. Link puts on the mask and transforms. He stands as a mighty warrior, wielding a massive two-handed helix sword with glowing eyes and all the power in the world. Link’s ultimate form.)

Ocho: “Will you be ready?”

(Fierce Deity Link enters the Moon dungeon, preparing for the final confrontation with the game’s boss as the camera fades to black.)
 

brusch

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(Sunrise, Lake Michigan, Rogers Park, Chicago. Leyenda de Ocho stands, facing the crashing waves on top of a rocky shore as he basks in the sunlight and the cold breeze coming in. His usual pink hoodie has been replaced by something unusual; a white, knee-length cloak with blue and red lines wrapping around his body. In his hands he holds a mask; a blue cap with a white face. Multiple red lines outline the eyes and a blue V on the forehead completes the intense expression. The camera slowly approaches Ocho from behind, showing his wildly twirling dirty blonde hair as he speaks.)

Ocho: “…I am risking much by doing this.

I risk losing myself entirely. I risk entering a part of my psyche that I don’t know if I can escape.

Zelda purists have many theories about the Fierce Deity mask; some have said it is simply a source of Link’s great power, others have said it is a symbol of Link sacrificing his soul to defeat his enemy. But, even that would be a noble fate; sacrificing oneself to save the world from destruction.

The scary part is nobody knows. Nobody knows why the mask was created, why the ability to transform into a demigod with near limitless power was simply gifted to The Hero. Was it earned, a reward? Was it fate?

…Was it something sinister?”

(Waves crash against the stony blocks beneath him as a gust of wind sends ripples throughout his cloak. Ocho stands his ground as he looks down as the mask in his hands.)

Ocho: “’But Ocho, it’s just a game. You can always flip the switch and turn it off. You can always start over, start something new. It is just…a game.’

Is it?

Is this all just a game?

I latch. I am a latcher. Ideas, symbols, metaphors…some people don’t get it. That’s fine. That’s them. I know what this mask means, what it represents to me. I put this on, and there may be no going back. What happens if I put this on, and I don’t want to take it off?

…Ever?”

(Ocho slowly, slowly raises the mask to his head. He puts it over his face and calmly lowers his arms, looking up at the bright Chicago sky. The camera pans around Ocho and eventually reaches to his face, his eyes closed. They slowly open and seem to be set ablaze in the reflection of the sun. In this moment, his voice seems slightly deeper than before.)

Ocho: “I am willing to go to that level. I am willing to find that part of my heart that is all-powerful, all-encompassing…indomitable.

One by one, you will fall before me. One by one, I will overwhelm each of you in ways you may be unable to comprehend as your subconscious feels a truly ominous sense of foreboding.

Nothing…and I mean NOTHING…will stand in my way. The Intergalactic Championship …this is all that matters to me. I have found my key. I have found my ultimate form.

Cancer of TWOStars…Champion of Saedomoe…Superbeast…prepare to face the Fierce Deity, if you dare.”

(The camera fades to black as Ocho speaks a final line.)

“…Is this all just a game?”
 

Mad Dog

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(FADEIN to the set of Intergalactic Championship Insider. The set consists of two chairs on a red carpeted stage. The host is seated in one seat as the camera zooms in on him.)

GREG TOMLIN: Hello ladies and gentlemen. My name is Greg Tomlin and I am a backstage reporter for IGC. Tonight I have secured an interview with an individual of much mystery surrounding him. He showed up out of the blue and has been granted entry into a qualifying match for the Intergalactic Championship. The video he submitted for consideration has raised many questions and I plan on getting those answers with this face to face meeting.

(The camera changes angles on Greg Tomlin with a small screen superimposed next to the interviewer with a still image retrieved from the video message of Xoesh the Zith. A faint question mark is over the picture.)

Its name is Xoesh the Zith, Champion of Saedomoe. I say “its name” because we are unsure exactly what we are dealing with here. Xoesh claims to be some sort of extraterrestrial being. But is this legitimate? Is he truly from another planet or is Xoesh some lunatic that was hit on the head and assumed a new persona upon his awakening? Multiple sources are speculating it to be the latter, but who’s to say what the truth is?

Tonight, I intend to get more information on Xoesh and enlighten our audience into the type of thing the IGC competitors will be facing on the next card.

(The camera angle switches back to the wide shot of the stage. A high definition television slides down from the ceiling across from Greg Tomlin. Xoesh the Zith appears on the screen in what seems to be a pale green fleshy mask with large eyes and antennas protruding out from the top. Xoesh has a black cloak covering his body. The background behind Xoesh is a star field.)

GREG TOMLIN: Joining us now is the being in question. Xoesh the Zith. Thank you for this interview.

XOESH THE ZITH: (Speaking in a distorted voice, which sounds as if it is doubled over with both a deep and high voice track.) Do not thank me. You humans are weak and giving me such salutation further exemplifies the feeble mindedness of your species.

GREG TOMLIN: Forgive me for what we call on Earth as manners. But I guess asking for forgiveness is more of a sign of weakness…so lets just move on. The viewing public is eager to hear from you and what you have to say.

XOESH THE ZITH: As I am eager to pounce on your inferior human race and destroy it in the name of Saedomoe and Oxuzi.

GREG TOMLIN: This is an excellent way to being this interview. What is Saedomoe and what is Oxuzi?

XOESH THE ZITH: Saedomoe is the planet I hail from. It is many light years away from your solar system and is home of the mighty breed of individuals you may refer to as Saedomites. Oxuzi is the ruler of our planet and all of the kingdoms within our atmosphere. You should familiarize yourself with that name…as he will soon be the ruler of Earth and all of the cultures within your minuet solar system. All hail Oxuzi!

GREG TOMLIN: Interesting. And now I must ask the obvious question, how did you learn of Earth?

XOESH THE ZITH: Many eons ago, the citizens of Saedomoe took pity on your natives. They built great pyramids in our honor and sacrificed virgins to appease us for our assistance. Since we gave them the tools to succeed in building the civilization as you know it today, we have kept tabs on your planet with occasional visits. We have monitored your progression and realized that you people have no clue how to sustain life on your planet.

The pollution, overpopulation, diseases that spread and kill your kind…these are just a few examples of how you have ruined your planet and threatened your own humans from expanding life on Earth beyond the near future. The damage you have done is irreversible. You can attempt to correct your actions now, but it is out of your control. The Saedomites can restore order, but why would we do that and let you organisms ruin what we built once again? You must be foolish to think this.

All but two men on Earth may possibly be spared, but only because we wish to learn more from them. One of those men is Phil Atken. We crave to probe him, learn from him, and see what makes him tick.

GREG TOMLIN: Are you saying that Phil Atken holds the fate of the planet? That he is the only man that is capable of saving Earth? That he is somehow the Golden Child and can save Earth from extinction.

XOESH THE ZITH: You are jumping to conclusions. I was sent here to study him and assist in determining the fate of your planet. So far my research has led me to believe that Earth cannot be spared. That you people must suffer the consequences of your actions before your planet is obliterated.

GREG TOMLIN: What exactly brings you back to Earth from when you were here “many eons ago”, as you put it?

XOESH THE ZITH: We received what you genotypes refer to as a space probe. The label on the container stated it was called Voyager. Inside the probe, there were pictures and audio from Earth. The Saedomites discovered how simple minded you humans were and the only redeeming quality that you have were the songs on a golden record that was sent along with a phonograph.

Mozart and the human we believed that was running your planet, Chuck Berry. However, once Zoesh arrived on your planet, I learned that this was not the case. The assumption was that Chuck Berry was under the tutelage of this Mozart. I discovered that hypothesis was not correct. Oxuzi has ordered me to procure Chuck Berry and bring him to Saedomoe so that he can play his object with strings for all of the citizens there.

GREG TOMLIN: Chuck Berry? Are you being serious?

XOESH THE ZITH: How dare you doubt my sincerity? You people do not respect this man. If you worshipped him, perhaps this planet would not be in such disarray as it is now. You can study from him and learn from his teachings of Johnny B. Goode.

GREG TOMLIN: I did not mean to be disrespectful, but the human race does not view Chuck Berry as a man that can lead our people. He is an excellent musician, but that’s about it.

XOESH THE ZITH: He was emblazoned on the golden record that was sent. My people hold him in high regard. It was our belief that Chuck Berry was a man that many here respected and admired, as if he were the ruler of Earth.

GREG TOMLIN: This is going to an odd place. Let’s switch topics and learn more about you. Many people are wondering what the mask is for or is it not a mask?

XOESH THE ZITH: Oxuzi instructed me to come to your planet in human form so that I did not cause any further chaos than what has already been done. A new species to your planet may be met with hostility and violence. So in order to blend in, I morphed into a human male. Because we find your faces to be hideous and grotesque, the decision was made to don a mask that represented the citizens of Saedomoe.

GREG TOMLIN: So you are not a human, you have just taken shape as one? And you wear the mask so that people do not grow overly concerned by your presence? Interesting indeed. One of the theories being floated around was that you are a human and just bumped your head or took a lot of hallucinogenic drugs. So now you believe yourself to be an extraterrestrial. What do you say to that?

XOESH THE ZITH: Preposterous. You humans that believe this are not intelligent and perhaps you are on these hallucinogenic drugs that you speak of.

GREG TOMLIN: Folks…we are going to take a break right now and return after a few messages. Please stay tuned for PART TWO of the exclusive interview with Xoesh the Zith!

(FADE TO BLACK…TO BE CONTINUED)
 

J The Ripper

FWrestling's Reckoning
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“No seriously, watch…aaaaand he goes limp.” Both Sylo and Jimmy sat on a couch watching a huge LED TV which, currently, played reruns of Grendel going limp as Sylo choked him out. Both had laughed over and over at the fact until Sylo’s phone began to ring. He looked over at Jimmy and held the phone up, his pupil just shrugged, and Sylo answered anyway.

“Hello?”

Sylo sighed heavily and mouthed “I’m putting this on speaker.”

With a push of a button the conversation could be heard on both sides.

“You still there? It’s Max. Max Hopper?” It was everyone’s favorite paranormal investigator or residential pain in the ass however you wanted to view it.

“Yeah Max, I’m here. How’d you get my number this time?” Sylo sighed again. By this point Aria had walked in and was leaning over Sylo shoulder. She nudged him and winked playfully as Sylo just scowled.

“I’m the world’s leading expert on all things paranormal plus an investigator so you should know—“ Sylo cut him off.

“Know that you called jOlt headquarters and since you were a former wrestler there you were able to get my number…yet again.” Jimmy and Aria both put their hand over their mouths chuckling.

“So what do you want, Max?”

“Okay well I think I’m on to something huge. I’m talking the Titanic hitting an iceberg huge, I’m talking Pluto becoming a pissed off comet because they said it wasn’t a planet huge, I’m talking Justin Bieber as President—“ Sylo cut him off again.

“Just get to the point.” Sylo snarled a little, annoyed by the fact he was even letting Hopper waste his time.

“Okay well your first interview for the IGC. The Protein shake that was in it sat there untouched and I’m glad it was. I believe inside that shake contained the ghost of none other than Adolph Hitler’s ghost who is working with extraterrestrials to start an intergalactic war with earth being the first of many planets hit!” By this point Aria and Jimmy were burying their faces in the couch.

“Uh huh. So the Ghost of Adolph Hitler just happened to be in my protein shake. I’ll bite, why?” Sylo leaned back and scowled and both Jimmy and Aria.

“No NO! It’s the GHOST of the ghost of Adolph Hitler! Isn’t it obvious? You were built in a lab, as I’ve said for years, so your advanced body could contain his ghost and you’d be a suitable host.” Max spoke excitedly.

“So you’re saying I’d be some sort of super Hitler?” Sylo spoke apathetically.

“I’m not positive but I’ll update you with any results I find.”

“Yeah, don’t do that, bye Max,” Sylo went to hang up.

“Wait!”

It was too late. Sylo had already hit end as he turned on Aria and Jimmy.

“I’m glad you two find that shit funny. I swear the guy is straight loony toons. Aria, you ended up drinking the thing, maybe you have the ghost of Hitler inside you,” Sylo wiggled his fingers at Aria who popped him on the arm.

“Alright hot shot, when are you coming to bed?” Aria stared down the mammoth of a man.

“In a few, Jimmy and I were just about to go over Ocho’s promo.” Sylo replied as he switched DVD’s to Ocho’s promos.

“You have five minutes.” Aria smiled and walked off. Jimmy looked at Sylo a bit confused.

“I’ll explain the birds and the bees when you’re older, kiddo,” He smirked at Jimmy. Jimmy just shot him a bird in response.

“So this Ocho guy, he’s pretty serious about this, eh?” Jimmy looked over to Sylo.

“As serious as a heart attack. He seems to be the only guy coming out with both guns blazing besides myself. I got to give it to him, I’ve done some research, he’s a hell of a competitor but people expect me to be the big dumb brute that attacks everyone and goes all rawr smash. Their downfall is the fact that I can change strategies mid match. I proved that with Grendel.” Sylo fast forwarded the video a bit.

“He’s the type of guy I could sit down and play video games with. Too bad he’s on the opposite side of the ring from me. That’s not some where you want to be. Anyway, we’ll watch more tomorrow, plus I’m upping your training so get some sleep, man.” Sylo stood and stretched. Jimmy did the same. The two slapped hands and went their separate ways.

After some pillow talk with Aria the two finally drifted off to sleep.

And for Sylo he would enter that dream world again:

What Dreams May Come pt. 2
The battle for control.

A messenger in tattered clothing ran into the royal tent, kneeling as he did so. The guards unsheathed their blades but their king, Sylo, held up a hand. He looked intently at the messenger before allowing him to rise and bring whatever news he had found.

“My liege, it seems King Atken would like to see a resolve to this war because it’s spilling over into other kingdoms. He proposes a duel between you, House Ocho, House Eagles, as well as the Necromancer Xoesh the Zith.” The messenger only looked up for a brief moment before shifting his gaze.

“Just like Atken. He feels he controls us all. I swore no fealty to the so called “king” yet he thinks he can call the shots in this battle? We’re already winning. We’ve sank most of House Ocho’s ships, House Eagles are running around blind because we’ve taken most of their strong holds, and the Necromancers are becoming corpses themselves. The North is winning this war and he wants this?! What are his terms?” Sylo sat on a throne next to Queen Aria.

“He has said that anyone that wins this battle shall have the right to challenge for the true throne.”

Sylo spat to the side out of disgust.

“The true throne? What would he know of a true throne? Tell Atken I plan to march on and my march will end when I arrive at his door step and remove his head placing it on a pike for the world to see. Everyone mount up but remember if we see any colors but our own we take their heads,” Sylo ordered as a roar from his troops went out.

The battle raged on. Many good, solid, strong men lost their lives in the name of their country but in the end the sea ran red with the blood as the roar of King Sylo and his men could be heard from every corner. It was always the same, every battle, Sylo was at the front lines fighting shoulder to shoulder with men that would die to protect him and he would do the same. Their battle cry would inflict nightmares on the impending doom that was about to come crashing down like a raging tidal wave upon their weak armies.

The house of Eagles were the first to fall. Their strategy had been weak and they thought that stone walls crafted by men could keep them safe but that wasn’t so. As House Eagles fell their “king” was taken as a captive as well as a trophy, yet King Atken had not intervened. The next to fall was the necromancers and their leader Xoesh was bonded in chain and his mouth was gagged so that none of his dark sorcery could infect the mighty army of the North. By the time the battle was over there were burning piles of corpses everywhere that lit up the night sky like an artificial sun. As the last of the necromancers fell there were more corpses than those that could control them. It was easy because the North didn’t fear their darkness, they had seen death, and had embraced him as a brother.

The last to fall was House Ocho which had proven to be more of a fight. Even without most of their fleet they still had enough land troops to bring quite the battle but the army of Sylo and the legendary blade Legacy drank it’s fill in blood. Ultimately, Ocho delivered himself as a prisoner so no more of his people would fall. King Sylo had done it, he had conquered all his rival kingdoms but kept his head on straight and his ears open for other houses looking to rebel. He wasn’t even sure of his alliance with King Aran and his house though they had worked together for generations.

Two months later the armies of Sylo and those that joined the ranks found themselves outside the gates of none other than King Atken. If he would ignore Sylo’s claim then Sylo would bring it to his front door. All three of his prisoners were on their knees in the mud as Sylo paced back and forth with Legacy drawn and in hand.

“King Atken! Coward! You hide behind your walls even as I bring oblivion to your door! I bring you but a taste of the hell I’ve spread just to prove a point and now, on your ground, on your hands, I will spill the blood of these would be kings.

One precise slice and off went the Necromancer, Xoesh, rolling in the mud and muck.

“I bring you death while you hide on a throne!”

Slice and off went Eagles head.

“And if anyone dare stand in the way of me taking the throne let this be a lesson to them. Let this be a warning to all houses and a call to you, Atken, for the throne you claim is false! I claim these kingdoms and yours in the name of King Sylo and THE NORTH!”

Slice.

Ocho’s head fell to the ground as the skies became gray and rain began to trickle from the sky. It seemed as if the sky had begun to weep for all those that would be lost under its sight as Sylo continued his warpath.

To be continued…
 

Mad Dog

Original Gangsta
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(FADEIN to the set of Intergalactic Championship Insider. Where Greg Tomlin is seated opposite a high definition television broadcasting via satellite with Xoesh the Zith.)

GREG TOMLIN: Welcome back to the show. Greg Tomlin here with my exclusive one on one with Xoesh the Zith.

When we last left you, I was questioning Xoesh about his origins and whether or not he was truly a human that had lost his mind. This seems to have angered him, so let me move on to my next subject. You claim to be the Grand Champion of Saedomoe and that you are the representative of those people for the Intergalactic Championship. So what is your fight record and what have you done to have this title bestowed to you?

XOESH THE ZITH: We do not keep track of wins and losses. All you need to know is that I am the Grand Champion of Saedomoe and I defeated many worthy competitors to capture this illustrious title. From the caverns of Auravores, I was the only one to slay the Spherekin beast and save my sector from extinction.

I competed against the Nodetors in the Battle of Achenmar and saved countless lives in the process. To citizens of Saedomoe…I am a savior. I can spout off numerous encounters that have built me to the champion I am today, but none of it would mean anything to humans. The Saedomites are the superior celestial beings in the universe and we will stake our claim on your planet as well.

GREG TOMLIN: Fair enough. Can you explain to us why you choose to enter the sport of wrestling to stake this claim? Why not explore another avenue to reach your objectives?

XOESH THE ZITH: What drew us to wrestling? It’s simple…the Intergalactic Championship is the sole reason why. It allows us to display our physical dominance. And if humans are going to make outlandish declarations that you are the
Champion of this or any other galaxy, we must prove you wrong. You have no right to that distinction and my purpose here is to rectify the situation.

GREG TOMLIN: There are many people that will state otherwise. Humans are proud people, we stand up for ourselves against enemies foreign and domestic…even against a race not of this Earth. Some of the people that you must defeat have their own agendas and despite what you wish to achieve, these men may disrupt your plan and…

XOESH THE ZITH: Do not be foolish. These men that you reference have never faced a force quite like Xoesh. They do not realize the power and intelligence that they are up against. Who are these men that you speak of?

GREG TOMLIN: What about Sylo? The man has done it all in this business.

XOESH THE ZITH: (Gives off an evil laugh.) I have picked up the signals this man has transmitted. These fairly tales of nonexistent kingdoms and using my name to legitimize his fables. His imagination will be his downfall. He may be a veteran in your sport, but I have downloaded all of his matches. I have studied his moves, his mannerisms, and I know how to defeat him.

GREG TOMLIN: And what about Leyenda de Ocho? He has come on strong as of late and many feel he is the man that truly deserves the match with Phil Atken.

XOESH THE ZITH: Leyenda is a weak minded individual. His questions about the mothership further illustrate his lack of intellect. Much like Sylo, I have reviewed his matches and know all of the key points to his attack. Perhaps I will distract him with some flashing lights that will cause him confusion into thinking there is an arcade game in the arena for him to play. This is war, not a game. Leyenda de Ocho will suffer a fate that no video game will save him from.

GREG TOMLIN: And Christopher Ryan Eagles?

XOESH THE ZITH: While I am somewhat sympathetic of the plight of his people, dealing with a similar situation in my lifetime within the Quastar Constellation many eons ago…unfortunately for him, he will walk an entirely different Trail of Tears once I defeat him in this match.

GREG TOMLIN: Xoesh, what is your strategy? You stated that you “downloaded” some of your competitor’s matches…what does that mean?

XOESH THE ZITH: I uploaded the information into my brain and have stored it for future reference. Similar to how I learned to speak your language in a matter of minutes on your planet. When I debut on this show, you will all learn the power you are dealing with. If you wish to be spared, you must bow down to me in the name of Oxuzi and declare allegiance to Saedomoe.

I must now communicate with my planet, so I will end this discussion now. You have all been warned. Do as I say or suffer the wrath of Xoesh. All hail Oxuzi!

(The satellite feed ends and Greg Tomlin turn his attention to the camera.)

GREG TOMLIN: Tonight we learned more about this man of mystery, but did he reveal enough? Will his proclamations come to pass or will one of the other hopeful Intergalactic Championship contenders prove him otherwise. Time will tell. Stay tuned to ESEN and see how this situation develops. Good night everybody!

(FADE TO BLACK)





OOC: Sorry for not putting out more RP. I had a few things I was working on during this RP period. This may be my last post before the deadline because of football. I still need to finish my bio too. I will get that out as soon as I can.
 

brusch

Main Event Caliber
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Apr 16, 2012
Messages
832
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Location
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(In the middle of a strange, oddly-lit room. Mostly blue walls glow with pockets of green, purple, gold. A dark purple heart-shaped tribal mask on the wall. Leyenda de Ocho stands in the middle of the room, wearing his new cloak and Fierce Deity mask as the camera approaches.)

Ocho: “I have learned much in the time since I made the decision to wear this mask. Much about the depths I hold within my heart.

How power is attained – no, how power is corrupted. The blackness one can accept and embrace in moments of doubt that can turn even the purest of intentions into indomitable wrath and ruthlessness.

It is terrifying.

And it is appealing.

I understand why one would accept it. I understand it now more than ever. To let the darkness overwhelm you…to embrace within every fiber of your being that you are no longer the child your family loved, but the monster who is ravenous and all-consuming.

That darkness has tried to reach out to me in the time since I put on this mask. The Apple of Truth dangling on the branch of my soul that will open terrifying new heights and lows within me.”

(Ocho approaches the mask on the wall. He picks it up, examines it thoughtfully, and begins to speak to it.)

Ocho: “Thankfully, I have been able to resist to this point. I believe I have found that balance – that new gear I did not have against Phil Atken at Survivalism, without losing myself.

Yet.”

(Ocho gently sets the mask on the ground in the middle of the room and looks up at the camera.)

Ocho: “I have learned even more about my opponents. Enough to know that they will each fall.

Christopher Ryan Eagles will fall because he is not the kindred spirit I once thought he was. My kindred spirit would fight. My kindred spirit would pour every bit of himself into the Intergalactic Championship and risk not being able to recover it all in the end. What he has done is proven himself unworthy…and in the end, I can accept this. Not everyone deserves this revered championship.

Xoesh the Zith will fall because of his delusions of grandeur. He speaks of the opponents he has conquered to become champion of his native land with the notion that we could not possibly fathom the power he brings. What Xoesh fails to comprehend is that he also cannot fathom the power we bring. You can watch, memorize, and replay every match of my life all you want – if there’s one thing he cannot do, it is enter my mind.

Even I don’t fully understand my own mind…”

(Ocho thinks long on his last line. Shaking his head, a fire lights behind his eyes.)

Ocho: “Sylo the SuperBeast…a special specimen. A freak of nature. He, too…he will fall. And it will be more astounding than all the rest…and for reasons that I understand more than anyone.

Sylo is a man who lives inside his own head. He dreams of his empire, his rule atop a throne in a fantastical realm of armies and sorcery. He is a mountain of a man, to be sure, but he also scratches the surface of becoming something more cerebral, something more than himself.

And that is his weakness – the dreaming, the surface scratching.”

(Ocho stomps on the mask on the floor, shattering it. He kicks the larger pieces out of the way as he slowly walks towards the camera.)

Ocho: “I don’t dream, Sylo. I live it. I take that next step that others, like you, are too scared to take…others who may believe they’d look foolish, or that it’s silly, or that it’s all games and stories.

You dream of becoming the emperor of this little wrestling world, but until you take the next step to embody it, you will find yourself falling short. I don’t see you as a man capable of it, a man who is willing to go to the places I am, to journey into the psychology and true essence of another realm.

And I understand why. It’s scary. The things this mask shows me…they terrify. They have opened my eyes to a potential path of my life that would certainly lead me to wrestling greatness and soulless treachery. And it is so. Damn. Tempting.

But I am unafraid of the approach. I am unafraid to go further than anyone else into their heart and mind.”

(Ocho turns his back to the camera and begins to walk away.)

Ocho: “All the world’s a game…the men and women, merely players…”

(Fade to black.)
 
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