Matt Knox Vs. Melificant Lasciel Vs. Mickey the Butcher

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Webmistress Barbie
Administrator

Posts: 221

Matt Knox Vs. Melificant Lasciel Vs. Mickey the Butcher Jul 23, 2020 7:40:53 GMT -5

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Post by Webmistress Barbie on Jul 23, 2020 7:40:53 GMT -5

Triple Threat Match!
Standard Rules!

1 RP Limit
4000 Word Limit

Please check your word count
Via: www.wordcountertool.com/

Deadline: Sunday, August 2nd, 2020 at 11:59pm Eastern

Good Luck!

Last Edit: Jul 24, 2020 20:06:29 GMT -5 by Webmistress Barbie

Matt Knox "The Raven"
Inactive

Posts: 88

Matt Knox Vs. Melificant Lasciel Vs. Mickey the Butcher Jul 24, 2020 21:39:37 GMT -5 Jon Willis likes this

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Post by Matt Knox "The Raven" on Jul 24, 2020 21:39:37 GMT -5

The sound of tearing wrapping paper filled the air. Distant. Laughter, that of a child. Elation hung in the air, filled with the same warmth of a fire on a bitterly cold morning.

“Dad! Come on! You got to see what Santa got me!”

“It’s a right peach, Matthew. Old fella outdone himself this year, he did”

Echos of a memory like fleeting gossamer. Barely there, no longer relevant.

Just as dead and buried as most of those in it.

The ship’s bell tore him from his day dream as it usually did. He inhaled the salt air deeply, as if he had forgotten to breathe in his brief trance like state. The Inner Harbor of Baltimore had grown on Matthew. Considerably so. He was always on the coast. Grew up by it, lived by it his whole life. But the Pacific Ocean, it’s vibe was so different from this side of the states. Here the water, the fog, the air? All felt different. Heavier. Darker. A perpetual twilight.

He inhaled the twilight through his nostrils and into his lungs, before exhaling it back into its universe. His eyes opened, staring out to the water as they had so come accustomed to doing so. The world had shifted again. Gone was the shine of success and rebirth. No longer was he new and pristine again. He had a target, he had ill intent.

No. He WAS ill intent.

Scoring a victory, helping Adrienne Levi hone her raw skill into precise ring work. They were the brightest, purest, happiest feelings he had felt in eons. But of course, right when you shine bright enough for the universe to notice, It shows up to snuff you out. No sooner had the bell rung, than Insidious had gotten in the ring and blind sided them.

Sure, he picked the fight by spitting in the blonde asshole Aaron Freddy something or other. And as he had been apt to do lately, he got caught up in one moment and let his guard down. The beating could have been considerably worse, as evidenced by what The Family had been put through.

His face broke into a small smirk then, lifting to stare at the bright full moon above. What a joke they had turned out to be. He wondered how the attack was carried out, without security stopping it? That much blood, that much brokenness...Doesn’t happen when the numbers are equal. His best guess, someone got their pocket filled with Cult Cash.

It didn’t matter though. The Family were all placed on the injury report, and if he had to guess they’d not be returning any time soon, if ever. People like that. They exist off their mystique and nothing kills mystique quite as quickly as losing back to back contests and getting beaten bloody on top of it.

His train of thought was broken then by the buzz of an incoming phone call. He reached into the pocket of his shirt. A rare occasion, wearing a button up, slacks and loafers. He had intended to celebrate the victory tonight, but got caught up by the harbor, and his own mind. As he was apt to. Thankfully, that was nothing new. He stared at the caller ID, seeing it was Bert after brief consideration, he tapped the green phone symbol and accepted the call.

“Yeah Bert. I’m alive. Just...by the ocean, in my head”

“What else is new? You gonna be up for training and shooting your promo in the morning?”

“Of course. Gotta be, right?”

“Guess so man..Hey, I just wanted to say again. Congratulations on getting the Win man. It was good seeing you get your hand raised again”

A pause, a brief spark of that dying light. He let a half smile break his stone and stoic features “I appreciate it, Bert. Let’s just shoot to keep getting it raised. I’ll see you in the morning”

He cut the call then. He thought he heard Bert start in on another point, but if he was honest he just didn’t feel much like conversation tonight The only dialogue he truly carried for was the noise in his head. Maybe ‘cared for’ wasn't the right term. But it was all he could focus on. He pocketed the phone again, and pushed himself up from the picnic table to a standing position, taking a brief moment to dust himself off. He stared up once more at the moon, before walking away from the harbor and back toward the Hotel

Hours later, he lay awake in bed, eyes fixed on the roof. A glance to the clock on the nightstand informed him it was twenty minutes past two in the morning. He sat up, wiping his face in frustration. He was painfully sober tonight, and with that sobriety came the unending stream of thoughts and self doubt he had done his best to silence and numb for the longest time.

These felt different though. Much deeper than the usual ‘Can I really beat this guy’ bullshit every competitor deals with at some point or another. No, this was to the bone, in the blood and deep in the soul. The kind of existential dread reserved for those who had made the sorts of choices he did.

He throws the blankets off of him as if they’re on fire, swinging his legs over the side of the mattress and pushing off of it to stand to his full height. The moonlight pouring in from the window near reflected off his ghost white skin as he deftly walked across the room to his luggage.

He dug through it feverishly, throwing random articles of clothing over his shoulder as he searched. He knew he had packed it, made a point to do so. He pulls out a full bottle of Oxycontin, prescribed to someone named Arthur Miller. After a moment of consideration, he sets it down on the floor next to him and goes back to searching.

Eventually, he finds what he’s looking for. A photo album. Red leather, with gold flake emboss proudly stating “Precious Memories” on the front. He sat back then, stretching his legs out in front of him. He set the album down momentarily, and stretched back toward his bed. He opened the mini-fridge, grabbing a bottle of Water and a Shot bottle of Jack Daniels before closing it

He returned to his seated position, and cracked the Jack first. He toasted the air wordlessly, and downed the shot. He let out a hiss of breath at the burn as it headed down his throat, to his gullet. He then reached for the Oxycontin, and removed one. He popped it in his mouth, and bit down before washing the foul bitterness down with the water. He let out an exhale, and a small chuckle before stating to the empty room

“Alright demons. Door’s unlocked...come and get me”

With that, he picked the album up once more, scooting so the moonlight would hit it just right, to illuminate it fully. He ran his long, pale fingers over the cover a moment. The chill of nostalgia running up his arm as the warmth of inebriation began to brew deep within his belly. He opened the cover to the first set of photos, and stared blankly

His senior photo. A chuckle escapes him. Class of 1998 and it showed. Flannel, messy hair and staring at the camera like it didn’t get him and never would. Below it, a candid photo taken by someone long forgotten of him standing in the tide, arms outstretched and smiling, from that very summer. He turned the page, eyes glancing over the random candid, and staged shots. Him and Hubert training, his Sensei busting a smart assed fellow student in the face with a roundhouse.

He lifted a hand to his cheek, remembering the one he got for taking the photo. Flash photography was little more than a snitch some days. He gripped a few pages, turning them all at once as he went to find something specific.

Ah, there it was..

Hope’s picture from the adoption agency, neatly set by the signature page that finalized bringing her into his life. He traced her face with his finger, smiling with as much pride as sorrow. He shook his head, flipping the page. The only picture he had of Charlotte Knight greeted him. From one of their matches in FWF. She had him locked in a crossface. He remembered idly, that even though he felt like she was going to rip his head off all he could really focus on was her scent..

He flipped the page once more, finding it to be smeared in black sharpie. All the faces covered. Obviously, wedding photos from a mistake he never should have made. The only photo left unmolested was the first ultrasound photo of Ivy. He pulls it from the page then, staring at it. She was no more than a speck of dust in the womb at this point. But he knew, deep down that she was the most important speck of dust in the universe.

Until she wasn’t. Bitterly, he reset the photo in it’s place, tracing the edges one last time with his fingertips before slamming the album shut, and tossing it aside into the mess of clothes and random items he had removed from his luggage earlier. The fog had taken hold now, and he leaned back to lay on the carpeted floor. Goosebumps rose upon his skin from the chilly temperature provided by the AC and the draft coming from the hallway under his door.

He exhaled a warm breath as his eyelids slid half shut. The warmth of poison and nostalgia finally lulled his troubled mind into an uneasy, but deep sleep

“Nostalgia is a funny thing.”

The camera came to life, focusing on Matt Knox seated on a stool. He was dressed in a Carnage Wrestling T shirt, jogging pants and his ring boots. His hair was slicked back, his eyes looked fatigued, dark rings forming under them. They still held the calculating look he was known for though, and they were staring straight into the lens.

Straight into Poppy’s eyes

“It controls you, not unlike love. The right memory can drag you up from the deepest of pits. Or topple you from the highest personal summit. There’s a reason living in the past was made taboo by man. Nostalgia...it’s like any other drug. It will fuck up your path if you let it”

Matt shifts in the stool, leaning forward and resting his hands on his knees

“I should have more memories about you, Poppy. You were in my debut match. You were there when I saved your worthless leader from the inbred cult. You attacked me last week. You were there when I came out, and threw down the gauntlet...and here you are again, and again there you will be at We Are Relentless”

A grin cracks his features, as he chuckles out loud “And yet, despite all this,.All the times our ships have passed in the night...I still can’t pick anything unique out about you.” He nods, staring off away from the camera as he considers the problem. He licks his lips once, clearing his throat “And so, I’ve come to the conclusion, that it’s because you have nothing unique to focus upon.”

He stands then, pacing as the camera follows him. He exhales through his nose, and shrugs, holding his hands outstretched, signifying how empty handed he is “It’s a hell of a problem to have, when I have to cut a promo on you.But, i’ve fought uphill most of my life. And won. So here we go again. The old college try”

He clears his throat, and begins to pace as he speaks “You’re in Empire of Blo-- Sorry, Insidious...same thing. And from what I’ve seen you’re everything Thor wants. Embracing your ‘Dark Side’” he stops, and gives a mock Macaulay Culkin look into the camera, before going back to being stone faced and pacing “You’re capable of violence, obviously. You helped tear The Family apart last Chaos. Hell, you even got a Win before I did. Against the Family. So well done, I suppose”

He stops, and turns fully to face the camera. He walks toward it at a terrifying pace, and kneels down so he’s eye level with the lens. His face, and gaze fill the shot as he speaks again “But, you’ve wandered into a War Zone. You are a part of the cancer that has taken hold in Carnage. Or, rather, is trying to. Thor is trying to usher you, and the rest of his troops, to leave some sort of impact before his time is up”

His face twitches, but the expression remains deadpan. He clears his throat before continuing “I would beg you to reconsider your options, because you’ve thrown your lot in with people who have become so universally despised in such a short amount of time, you’d think they were the second coming of a totalitarian regime..”

He backs away then, hands raised and a smile breaking his cold, sullen features “But, don’t take my advice. I was a part of your life, or rather, your cult once. By Marriage. I’m sure you’ve heard my name drug through the mud. And I don’t blame them, I don’t. I’ll never justify my mistakes as anything but. I deal in reality, no matter how harsh...Perhaps, one day you’ll sever the cord and try for yourself, Melificant. But at Chaos Ninety Six...In this three way dance, You’re going to be one of two casualties. You’re a pawn, Poppy. And you’re about to be taken off the board..”

He runs a hand through his hair, exhaling and bringing his heart rate down. He lifts a hand then, wagging his pointer finger at the camera as he broke into a hearty chucke “And then, we go from a pawn. To a clown. Mickey Mouse..er..I mean, The Butcher” He retakes his seat, laughing to himself and throwing his hands up in the air “Absolutely ridiculous. You play at being a monster, some doom bringer but at best you’re a B movie CGI animated dinosaur eating a bad actress with Microsoft paint blood splatter”

He reaches into his shirt pocket, producing a pack Camel non filter cigarettes. He proceeds to pull out the last cigarette before crushing the pack and tossing it off to the side. He pulls a silver zippo then, sparking up the cancer stick and taking a “healthy” drag before exhaling the smoke toward the ceiling and gathering himself, and his thoughts

“I understand they put you in, because you wanted on the card. But You’ve just wandered into an ass whooping. You are walking into an environment charged with hatred and vile, ugly, hideous feelings Mick. I won’t hurt you as bad as I will Poppy. In fact” He adjusts himself, motioning to the camera “Hows about this, I’ll try and kick your head hard enough to pop it out of your ass. Sound good, Mick?”

He chuckles a bit once more, having far too much fun with this promo. He waves it off though, standing back up. He takes another long drag from the cigarette, before flicking it off screen “In closing, I’d like to apologize to the legion. Especially those of you who have come to support me, and as well to my old supporters who recently discovered I was, in fact, still alive...but it seems like booking wanted to give me a show off, but still get your viewership money.”

“Come Chaos Ninety Six, I will make you reconsider your life choices Poppy. I will add another loss to your record, Mickey. Which, frankly, with that many losses, is impressive. And much more importantly, I will enlighten the legion with the truth, concerning why I’m out to bury Insidious, and Thor...i’ll see you then. With The Mercy. The Murder.

And the Truth”

The camera feed goes black then as Matthew walks out of the shot, his footsteps echo for a beat before the feed goes entirely dead

“Good promo, Bird man” Bert says as Knox walks out of the shot. He grabs his water bottle, taking a long swig off of it “Appreciate it Bert.” was all he replied, before walking away. They were at the set and ring he had set up in the rented warehouse. Equal distance from the arena and the hotel. It was quaint, private, and effective. He had tried the gym scene and running for the first month he was here but, the results weren’t satisfactory.

Especially with the sudden addition of a protege in his life.

He feels a sincere smile crack his face. One from a place of pure, unadulterated pride. They had set out to shock the world and shut up Alex Winter. The newest, loudest addition to Carnage. And they had done so. Not without appropriate struggle of course. But the ends always justify the means.

Of course, they had been immediately attacked by Insidious. A brand new, disturbing pattern that was also archaic and boring. You get an ego maniacal leader and a handful of pawns, and that was the result. Attack anyone who dare cross them. And he had, indeed, crossed them.

“So, what’s the plan this time? You think you got a good idea on Poppy?” his stewing was interrupted, as it usually was by Bert. He strode to the ring, and hopped up on to the apron to sit. He considered a moment in silence “Matt? You hear me?”

“Yeah. Sorry, man. Miles away..I mean, like I said. She’s not unique in any way. Personality wise. In the ring, it’s all pretty standard. Nothing I haven’t seen before. And I've been in the ring with her. So, unless the clown sticking his fingers in people’s mouths turns out to be a bigger factor than i’m predicting, I should walk away batting five hundred.”

He leaned himself back into the ropes. He grimaces a bit, old and new pains biting at his back and joints for a moment. He rolls his shoulders until he hears and feels that familiar pop. He rolled his head then, limbering his neck up as Bert launched into even more questioning and commenting. He smirked as he listened. The kid could be a backstage interviewer. Big mark, big mouth. That’s the whole resume, and it’d get him hired

“You see all the hate Insidious is getting on Twitter man? You and Levi might not be alone in this. Seems like half the roster wants a piece. Mac Bane, Catalina Cortes, Steve Matthews. Hell even Amber frickin Ryan is in on it man. Only guy that seems to like them, or not hate them is Winter”

“Well, douchebags of a feather”

“Yeah, I guess but still man. Must feel good to have so much backup. Vindicating at least.”

“You’d think so.”

Bert went and pulled himself up onto the apron, sitting by his friend. He looks slightly perplexed before asking “What do you mean, man? You don’t want the backup?”

“Isn’t their fight. Hell, it isn’t Adrienne’s but...she’s a friend. And she wants to get involved for reasons beyond the shallow shit everyone else is on about”

“Still man, more bodies you know?”

“I guess man...I don’t know. Maybe you’ll understand when you get older” He joked, changing the subject and shoving Bert’s head playfully. Bert responds with a jab to his arm “Come on man. Let’s go get some food and liquid bread in us”

The two friends then walk to the exit together. Matthew takes a moment to grab his gym bag, before they head out into the Baltimore night to find libations and entertainment.

Matthew watched as the Uber drove away from the harbor, a sleeping Bert tucked away in the backseat. He adjusted the weight of his gym bag, before walking to what had become his spot since the unplanned move to Baltimore. A Picnic table, right by the water on the pier. He has a joint he swiped from Bert pinched between his lips. He produces the silver zippo once again, sparking up the jazz cabbage and taking a puff before exhaling

He takes a seat at the picnic table, setting the gym bag in his lap as he stared out at the endless ocean. As wide and deep an expanse as man’s madness and appetite for violence. He takes another puff, an inhale, and sets the joint down upon the picnic table. The cherry burns brightly in the darkness. Above, clouds have covered most of the moon. The night near a pitch black.

Fitting for a funeral.

He slowly unzipped the old gray gym bag, and reached within. He pulled out the photo album and stared longingly at it. At what it represented. A past that seemed a lifetime ago. The soaring heights of fatherhood, the valleys of a sham marriage. Saving an orphan. Growing up from damaged child to damaged man.

He stood, weighing it in his hands. He could hear the album, he swore to himself silently. Every voice, every memory crying out to him pleading their case. The noise only got louder as he approached the railing that separated him from the endless ocean. He stopped inches away from it, and considered the album once more. He turned it over, flipping to the very last page

A photo of him and Hope at Christmas stared back up at him. 2008. Their first one together. He didn’t quite remember what he had gotten her. But he remembered how odd it felt. He had asked Rob Prozac from the Medz to help him pick out a gift. That was his first mistake. Most assuredly, not the only one.

But more than anything he remembered how happy she was. How she bounced down the hall that morning, waking the entire house up. How he dragged himself from his warm bed with no complaints, because it’s what she wanted.

Tears stung at his eyes then, as he snapped the album shut. He exhaled shakily, and indignantly wiped at his eyes.

“Bury the past...to plant the seeds for the future” he whispered to the crisp ocean air. And without any further ceremony or words, he reached out over the railing and dropped the album into the water. The splash felt like a punch to his gut, and he backed up to the picnic table. His limbs felt numb, disjointed. His mind screamed to dive in after it just as loudly as his resolve assured him that this was just a part of the process to get to where he needed to be.

He retrieved the marijuana cigarette then, taking a long puff. Inhale. Coughing fit. He doubled over with the coughs, praying the numbness would envelope him and send his mind elsewhere. He didn’t want to consider this as a mistake. He couldn’t afford to.

There were no mistakes. Not anymore.

Only Redemption.

And Reckoning.

Enjoy your last few nights, Demons.

Doors closed. Get out.

Last Edit: Jul 26, 2020 21:18:44 GMT -5 by Matt Knox "The Raven"

Jakobi Cervantes/Poppy
Inactive

Posts: 3

Matt Knox Vs. Melificant Lasciel Vs. Mickey the Butcher Aug 2, 2020 22:49:39 GMT -5

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Post by Jakobi Cervantes/Poppy on Aug 2, 2020 22:49:39 GMT -5

Mel sat winded and frustrated beyond her own reason, breathing heavily in and out as she sat on the floor of her training room. She’d spent the last five hours punching her speed bag, running so many miles on her treadmill she’d unceremoniously been tripped up and thrown off, leading her to her current beleaguered state comfy but worn out on the floor.

After several long moments she laughed out loud and stumbled to an upright state and made her way to her stack of towels. While she dried off she continued chuckling.

“Alexa Call D-Bag Prime. On The Earpiece if you can. Thanks Lexa….” Mel finally said as she smiled and restrained another peel of laughter. Her eyes suddenly went wide as her son’s voice answered.

“Hey Mom… Dad’s at work. He gave me the phone cause he knew you were gonna call again…. So what is it today?” Malcolm explained briefly, and though his tone was respectful and formal to an almost uncomfortable degree. Despite the sarcasm hitting Mel like her own youthful almost obvious disrespect Her response was still maternal in tone if not content. ”I had actually called Lyle’s backstabbing ass, to talk to you Malcolm... If that’s not asking too much of course.”

Mel took a deep breath and smiled once she’d centered herself, she’d replied all the while ignoring that Alexa had instead channeled the voice on the opposite end of her call through the rooms programed speakers. Meanwhile on the opposite end of the call Malcolm was fumbling with the phone and likely lashing out for her mother’s unceremonious insult to his father, and only present parent. Once he had gathered his wit’s he replied.

”That’s fine Mom… So, what did you want to talk about?”

Mel smiled proudly to herself and snipped ”I said earpiece Alexa, change call to earpiece”[/pink] After it gave a failed command sound she sighs and continued regardless. “Well Great Uncle Thor, he has this youth wrestling thing building up some steam, and well… I just kind of thought you might like to meet some of the kids from my old friends and coworkers… It gets you out of the house and let’s you spend time with other kids, and me if you want.”

Malcolm sighed and collected his thoughts before replying. ”Mom, I already told you, I’m not avoiding you. I remember you were a great parent before Grandpa got involved. Dad and you only started…. You know what, speakerphone isn’t a way to talk about this. Will there be any girls?” Came his response, cutting himself off curtly before he rambled, as he realized he was basically following what his father had told him his mother did in awkward situations he closed his statement with the simple question, knowing it would throw his nervous mother for a proverbial loop.

”Oh, ummm I don’t really know, uh other than Izzy, your Unc’s new pet project… Hey why don’t I conference call Thor in on this and you two can discuss it… Hold on. Mel quickly and deftly made all the motions to do just as she had suggested without giving Malcolm a chance to protest. The boy would get to know his family whether he liked it or not. Especially if Lyle didn’t.

“Don’t worry I’m sure I’m not interrupting anything crucial… Besides, I gotta ask him some things about business over the next week or so. Grandad told me something that’s got me worried… after several quiet moments Mel had pulled Thor up on her phone before pausing and giving a heavy sigh. Walking to her Alexa module she pressed solidly on the power button. As it shut down, Mel pressed the small button on her bluetooth earpiece.

[Color=pink}”Can you still hear me Malcolm? I had to switch to my earpiece, the hands free thing shorted out I guess.” Mel lied to her son, quietly restraining a bit of laughter as she did.

Malcolm sighed vocally and replied to his mother.”Yeah, I still hear you… Actually a little clearer now, But uh, where is Great Uncle Thor?” Mel sighed with exaggerated accented indifference to her body language. [/color=pink]”I’m making that call separate from our’s honey. I've got a couple of things I have to ask my uncle and I don’t need you worrying about adult business. I hope you understand.”[/color]

Malcolm actually laughed despite himself, knowing his mother was at least trying to make a joke about a conversation between his father and himself several years prior. As Mel let her son sit in his amusement she changed gears and dialed Thor to inquire about the sides of wrestling she simply never grasped, especially early in her career, and she still understood little of the politics of wrestling now little more than she ever had, at least not like her Uncle did.she was often consistently mistaking a great many wrestlers in ring names or monicers, almost habitually in her consistency when it came to discussing therm, she erred with nearly every memorable detail about a wrestler with rare exception to their city of residence… And had now for years. Mistaken Matt Knox for an old rather disruptive individual from her past named Matt Hughes.

Remembering this fact she finally dialed the number to reach her uncle and find out what she could about the man she had for weeks now, thought to be an entirely different man. She let it ring all through till either she got his message machine or he answered.

"Hello there Mel. Is this call business or...pleasure?"

”When business is in pleasure it's a strange line to be blurred, but no. This was about wrestling. More specifically what you thought was relevant about Matt, since I’ve only recently learned I had them mixed up with another of your past… Compatriot I think you could call Hughes?”

There is a pause on the other end of the line before Nathaniel gives an answer.

"I can see how that mix up could happen though Hughes and Knox are two very different men. Easy way to remember who is who there is to know that Hughes is Sierra's father while Knox is Ivy's. Matt is fast in the ring and if you recall for that fatal fourway match you had a Underground: Redemption he has a mean streak out there. He also had a temper that is easily set off as you saw last Chaos. Though for all of that you won't ever hear me say Knox isn't talented in the ring. His personal vendetta against me aside, he has talent in that ring and you shouldn't take him lightly."

”So then you’d say Matt is a genuine threat to Insidious? Or if he is, is he only a minor threat by your standards?”

Nathaniel lets out a sigh as he contemplates the question for a moment before replying.

"That depends on if he remains focused or not. If he stays on the warpath as he has been then I would say Knox is a very big threat to Insidious. However, the flip side is that the longer he keeps up this quest to take me out as the source of all evil in his world, the more he proves what Insidious is about. Though that is all a moot point if he loses his focus and gets hooked back on the drugs and booze that took him out of PWE in the first place."

Mel smiles as Thor elaborates on Knox, walking around her small training room as she listens through her ear piece, idly checking the hands free station in the corner or her room she smiles and considers a point Nathaniel had made which incited a curiosity in Mel.

“Nathan, umm you said something about him getting BACK on drugs and booze, how long has he been “Clean” by most considerations?” Insidious is about letting the real you out inevitably right?”

"I would guess a few months from what he has posted on the Carnage website since he first appeared as part of the official roster. Though honestly, the only one who could answer that specifically is Knox himself. His little buddy Bert might know as well but it isn't something I personally know."

”I understand uncle, sorry if it isn’t an option we just convert him like sooo many others before. I just thought I’d explore the possibility at least briefly.I blame You and Asbien for the way I think about these things. I hope I’m able to lay at least a third the beating you gave him then… Then I’d be able to leave the ring with having at least left Insidious's mark on him… Do we have one yet…. “A Mark” That is?”

Nathaniel chuckles in amusement at the question before giving her a reply.

"The amusing thing is that Knox has fallen for the trap without any effort on my part. You have heard what He has had to say about me ever since I told him I would face him in a match once he was back at the top of his game. Or that whole thing on Chaos 93. I know he won't like to hear it but he has been marked by Insidious. Though I am sure you will do great out there against him. Which does remind me, did you see that you had a third person added to your match?"

Giving it several long practiced breathes Mel shifted her voice only slightly and replied in the voice she had come to reserve for her character ‘Poppy’

”Alright Nathan, I’ll do everything within the rules, to get that …. What stereotype would you call that… Wrestler In Recovery? Like so many over the hill hopefuls? Beaten up and afraid to own up to his shortcomings and embrace his darker side outright? Something like that Nate?” Poppy inquired, pitch shifting somewhat repeatedly and with an almost necrotic sort of bitter joy to the solitary comparison she’d drawn.

"Pretty much but so you know there is also a third play in your match that was added by management. Kid is trying to go the scary clown route but can't figure out the way to make it work. I would suggest doing what you can to focus some offence there to show the world what you can do. Honestly, Knox is too experienced to be the one to take the fall in a triple threat match."

”I think in all the years that I’ve been doing this with either you or Dad or Jake’s dad… I had never actively thought about Malcolm getting into this, not with any serious consideration. That… Yeah that’s about as much as I’ll consider a new form of “troubled clown” gimmick something to be genuinely afraid of. I think I’ve experienced one even similar gimmick and it was better executed on a professional level, by miles. On a matter of personal opinion. Looking this weirdie up on the webpage. Yeah not threatened Uncle. How beat up should I leave him, do you think? Scale of 1 to 10?”

"Which is worse, the 1 or the 10?

“Well starting out 3 is can’t be identified without dental records….”

"Ahhh. so 1 is the worst it can be...Hmm, let's go with a 6 here. After all, we aren't looking to end a career here."

Mel excitedly curtsies to her would be uncle and laughs with a lilted shrillness to it.After several more moment’s Poppy was just as quickly back in her usual calm and casual motherly tone as she regarded Nathan.

”Nathan Do you have any kids old enough to involve themselves in wrestling? After asking him it turns out Malcolm might have shown a slight bit of curiosity about the organization Isabella is setting up I just wanted an alternative perspective from another possible parent.

"The thing is Imperial Youth Wrestling has been around for a decade now. As for the kids involved, my youngest two are part of it and they are only nine. I can have Isabella give him a call if you want."

”Don’t let her pick on him too much, I don’t think he quite knows how to deal with the fairer sex. He’s still not quite at that age I don;t think. Do you think he is, he’s only ten…”

[color-gold]"No idea but it wouldn't be hard to find out. I will have her keep it business."

”Yeah I can talk it over with him, see if I can get the basics worked out with him. Thanks Nate, sorry if I interrupted your day at all… Just didn’t know an awful lot about my opponent or my completely free bonus grab bag clown opponent. I’ll get back to you by text about Malcolm’s response to training in the school with Isabelle. See how many shades his face turns. Hahahahaha

"Sounds good and no problem for the call. I will see you at Chaos."

With that Nathaniel ends the call as Poppy quickly follows suit back in her day to day guise of Motherly Melfina. With a curt nod she quickly shifted her call back over to her long on hold son, and began to explain the planned phone appointment he now had with Isabelle.

Which managed a visible pigment shift in his cheeks as the idea fully struck Malcolm of what that simple statement meant. It Was business though, if feeling things out so mom felt better about having a solid place in her son's life could be called anything. Typical for her as far as his father had told him.
He shrugged, this could really be interesting he thought to himself as his mother rambled on about ring safety of something similar. Malcolm's own mind began to wander over the potential for an in ring gimmick of his own.

Act of Defiance 2021

Matt Knox Vs. Melificant Lasciel Vs. Mickey the Butcher

Post by Webmistress Barbie on Jul 23, 2020 7:40:53 GMT -5

Post by Matt Knox "The Raven" on Jul 24, 2020 21:39:37 GMT -5

Post by Jakobi Cervantes/Poppy on Aug 2, 2020 22:49:39 GMT -5