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 OWA Promos

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Arata Asakura

Arata Asakura


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PostOWA Promos

Before you get started here are the rules of the page!


-There is a TWO promo/2000 word limit for our regular bi-weekly shows and THREE promo/3000 word limit for our major events! For our side show Atlantis it is only ONE 2000 word promo.


- Promo deadlines are two days before the show (So, a Saturday show has a Thursday deadline for example.) The only exception is Atlantis which allows for a day before.


-If everyone involved in a match would like to extend or shorten the promo limit due to personal circumstances or preference, you have two days at the start of the new promo week to confirm with a member of the writing team the agreed upon limit for your match, if not it will remain the standard limit set for bi-weeklies and major shows.


-You must wait 48 HOURS before double posting. If your opponent has not responded to your first promo within a 48 hour period and you'd like to release another, you may do so. However keep in mind that with the promo limit, if you expend both promos, your opponent has the right to do their two (or three on a PPV week) uninterrupted.


-The page is not a place to make challenges or try to book matches!


-Do not break kayfabe! Remember that everything is entirely storyline based and there is no reason to either take things personally, or make it personal for someone else.


-Have fun! Enjoy writing your work and feel free to hit up the chat for feedback!

Jeff X, Alyssa Grace, Elijah Hampton, 'Don' Hendrix, DT The Ruler and Lazarus Arjen have spoken. It’s such good shit!

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DarkCircle
The Happy Thoughts of the Happy Arsonist
Post August 4th 2023, 6:43 pm by DarkCircle
{The camera starts up and we find ourselves on one of the many piers around New York City, but from the view of the city beyond shows us that this Pier Sixty Three at Hudson River Park. It's here that we see the former "Grinning Demon" in Ryo Sakazaki, leaning against one of the railings that looks towards the city}


Ryo: In one week is perhaps one of the biggest matches of my career, bigger than any title match that I could have right now as World's Finest goes against the Tres Comas Club in an all or nothing match. 


A total and complete *war*.


And already I know that I'm going to be viewed as the weak link in this match because of my fucking record here in this company...and I get that because I've had people try to fuck me over for fuck all reason, maybe because I don't play the backstage politics game or the fact that I'm still here, earning my fucking PLACE in this company, no matter what they throw at me and yet I.Am.Still.*HERE*!


It’s that very reason that I’m a part of the World’s Finest, not just because I was one of Stephanie’s students at the War Room Dojo…but because even with every loss, every hateful insult, every attempt by somebody LESSER than me trying to run my ass out of this alliance…I never caved in, I never gave up and that’s why at Olympus, I’m not going to be the one that caves in and fails Stephanie when she needs my help the most. No, I’m the mother fucker who’s going to step up and cave in some skulls, just like I did for the Frontline a couple of years back over on Kingdom…back when everyone thought that my pinning of Mongoose McQueen was nothing more than a poorly timed fluke...


{Ryo stops and shakes his head for a moment, a dark look crossing over his face}


Ryo: But by that same token, I also know that I wasn’t Stephanie’s first choice for my spot in this faction because I’m not Jacob freaking Striker. I’m not her Golden Boy, the most successful of any of her students. A guy that she knows could get the job done without any question what so fucking *ever*.


But Jake’s not here. 


I am. 


And while I might not be the wrestling prodigy that he is, I am still one of the toughest guys on the Olympus roster because despite all of the physical abuse that people can do to me, I’m still right here in the thick of things, no matter who the hell those in the front office throws at me because better men have tried to get the fuck rid of me!!


{Ryo stops, turns to regard the camera, and then slowly but surely, his body starts convulsing…slowly and steadily at first, almost like he’s being electrocuted or something until finally he just explodes into pearls of loud, ruckus laughter…grabbing his stomach as he doubles over from the sheer force of whatever he has suddenly found so epically amusing and after a few minutes of this, he finally stops, using the railing to help hold himself up with as he then looks at the camera}


Ryo:  I’m sorry, but I just realized that a good chunk of the Tres Comas Club HAS tried to get rid of me, I mean *REMY*!! REMY is a card carrying member of that lot and I already hold a victory over his ass if I remember correctly!


Same goes with Rafael too and I fought him fairly recently at that if I recall correctly!!


I mean seriously, how long have you guys been trying to get rid of me and how long do I just keep staying and fighting against the system that you all claim to be the masters of??


{Suddenly all forms of mirth disappears from Ryo’s face as he regards the camera with a cold expression}


I mean you are all the same dumb fucks that said that I'd never hold a championship here in this Alliance because I was too much of a loser, yet I defeated Corey Matthis for a sixty three day run as the Icaurs champion and I beat your precious fucking Remington *IVORY* Prescott for a seventy one day reign as the Prestige Champion.


{Ryo's dark eyes narrow even further}


Ryo: Remember that Ivory? Remember in the lead up to our match how you were just boasting and bragging about how great you were and all that good horseshit, only to have your damned head smashed in by my right foot? Do you recall the taste of the bottom of my foot because at Olympus, guess what you're going to get a really good taste of yet again?


That's right, Ivory...the answer would be You.


Sure, you can say that I had help from Mark Michaels all that you want...but then again who was the wiseass who bet against me from the get go only to have his fucking head smashed in even?


Even with a supposed great master plan and all of his hired fucks helping him??


Again...that was *You*.


You wanna try and doubt my fire, Ivory? Go ahead, you or any other member of the Tres Comas Club can talk shit about me all that you want and it just won’t matter because right now because when you boil down the reality of it all,  I’m living rent free in a few of your heads because you know deep down that if I can beat you once, then when the big match moment comes…I can do it *AGAIN*!


Oh, and I already know that after hearing that then certain members of your little Club will be all like “Well, you had your big chance to become a tag team champion but you chose to check on your partner instead of going in for the kill..booohoo”...


{Ryo shakes his head for a moment while laughing a mirthless, dark little noise}


Ryo: If you really want to think that, then you have to remember the looks that the Seventh Ward gave me and Tatsuo after the bell was rung, there was signs of mutual respect being shown because Tatuso and I didn't fuck around in that match against Darkane and Lazarus, we showed them that we were just as ready to go the distance...to go into the deepest, darkest paths of fucking hell for those titles and that respect, as subtle as it was, wasn't lost on me because given a chance I would've happily crawled on broken glass belly first if it meant getting one more shot at those straps that night happily...and that's why the respect was shown.


I've been in this company for what, three years now. And just now people are beginning to understand that I'm not just going to go the fuck away because you hate me for some reason that not a single one of you is willing to get in my face and tell me why.


So, how about all of you who fucking hate me turn that hate right the fuck around and go fuck *YOURSELVES* with it because I am done being your whipping boy. Sure, I might lose a match here and there, but that doesn’t change the fact that in the long run I’m going to be outlasting a lot of you who feel that just because you can hit your high spots all of a lot faster means that you won’t burn out and fade away just as freaking quickly.


And yes, I’m looking at all of you in the Comas Club for my prime examples of that very fact.


You see, I understand where you guys are coming from. The need and desire to be rich enough so that you can control your own destiny and keep those who could disrupt your lives from doing so, I know this because my family made it own riches…we made our own fucking path.


Just like what I’m doing here, fighting and clawing my way up despite nobody fucking giving me a chance. I could’ve become a bitter little bitch like the rest of you, throwing my own money at anything and everything in a dire hope that I could control something…but my grandfather, the man that I’m named for, he was a hard man, who believed in hard ways.


The kind of “Hard Ways” that ends with a mother fucker cutting a pinky off or something worse out of respect to a higher authority. 


The kind of “Hard Ways” that make you get up and hit the streets each and every day, grinding like crazy to keep yourself in top physical condition so that you can take down any fucker that tries to fuck with you in turn.


And if someone tried to fuck with you, then you go to war with them…and you climbed into those trenches with those that you trust in the mud, blood, and mire. Fuck the guns, you go in with your knives or your fists and you simply do that bloody, gory work and you get the job fucking done.


No matter the cost.


{Ryo’s lips then slowly shift into a rather wicked looking smile}


Ryo: And that’s why I know that my side is going to be the ones with their hands raised at Olympus, children. Because while each and every single one of you Coma Club members are more than happy or willing to cheat your black, weasel little fucking hearts out…not a single one of you is willing to actually do the black deed itself. 


Like I am.


You see, while I know that I am never Stephanie’s first choice when it comes to technical wrestling…but when it comes to being willing to go that distance and do the questionable…wetwork for the lack of a better term, then she knows that I’m her first draft pick.


{The smile disappears from Ryo’s face as he runs a hand through his black hair, his dark and baleful gaze never leaving the camera}


Ryo: I’m not afraid of failing at Olympus because I know that in the end, we’re going to be the ones that walk out the winners because of the simple fact that the collective heads of knuckle that runs the Coma Club is under this falsehood that we in World’s Finest won’t collectively cross that line from being the better angels of the Omega Wrestling Alliance into the world of lesser filth like they are.


However the reality of the situation is that we are more than happy to cross that line, to go down that blackened extra mile just so that we can tear each and every single one of you into nothing more than thousands and thousands of bloody shreds because one of you, and you know *EXACTLY* who the fuck you are, decided to turn this into a personal vendetta. 


And for all of your purported fucking brillance and intelligence, Allessandro, you’re the biggest fucking moron on your entire team because by pulling Monica into all of this, by *threatening* her…you pulled one of the classic blunders of war.


The first being never get into a land war in fucking ASIA!


The second being never go in against a Sicilian when death is on the line…but here is the third and the big one that you forgot;


Never make make a war *personal*, you only serve to make your grave bigger with help from your own allies in the end. And that’s what you did, Allessandro…you made this all about you and your vendetta against Stephanie Matsuda simply being better than you.


Something your foolish ego just couldn’t deal with. 


And now, the entirety of the Tres Comas Club must be called to BURN with you in that special hell…and I will enjoy watching you all *burn*.


{That dark smile returns to Ryo’s face as the screen slowly fades to black}

-------
Since too many posts were made, this topic has been divided automatically. You can find the rest of this topic here :
https://owaonline.forumotion.com/t1618-owa-promos

#BeLikeBea, Remington Ivory Prescott, DT The Ruler, Brody and grandcaster have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Aria Jaxon
Re: OWA Promos
Post August 4th 2023, 3:20 pm by Aria Jaxon
BLOOD IN THE WATER. | DENVER, COLORADO. 

“I'm done! I am done apologizing, I am done being persecuted for my strength. You people should be thanking Christ that I am who and what I am, because you need me! You need me to save you…you do. I am the only one who possibly can. You're not the real heroes; I'm the real hero.”

The kind of happiness that I felt after Burning Sky should be bottled and sold. 

No, seriously. 

The way I felt that night – genuinely happy, full of pride, and excited for what the future holds – there are people in this company who would die and kill to feel that way. Usually, when people say shit like that, it means they’re about to dole out how great they feel and share it with others, but I have every intention of doing the opposite. My joy will become everyone’s problem, and the version of Aria Jaxon that has rediscovered her potential and is secure in her purpose will prove to be a plague unlike anything that Kingdom – or OWA as a whole – has ever seen. 

There are those who say that the “mean” are never rewarded, that the natural order of things will not allow those who place themselves first to prosper. Well, that was what Arthur Wakefield and Noah Kriger believed, and how did that serve them? Will knowing that they did the right thing and kept it clean be enough to patch over the holes in their hearts? They can have the moral victories. That doesn’t keep me paid. It doesn’t keep my daughter dripped out in designer baby clothes, and it sure as fuck doesn’t count toward advancing up the ladder in this company. Real victories set you up for big things. Fake ones set you up for disappointment. As I told them before Jason and I put them in the dirt, the record books are forever, and they don’t ask how or why you won. They only ever display the names of the victors, and on that night – The Tribunal reigned supreme. As we fucking should!

Jason Long, Kenny Drake, Nate Cage, JD Damon, and Tyler Kulina…I’ve fallen into place with men who never lost sight of my greatness. A group of brothers in arms who want exactly what I want – a total takeover of everything in our line of sight, the road to the top paved with the bloody, broken, mangled bodies of all the ones who thought they were strong enough to stop us. I’d like to dish out a spoiler alert to anyone getting any brave ideas: fucking with The Tribunal does not end well for dissenters. There are only two ways to escape once we’ve got you tagged for termination. Either your health insurance premium is about to go through the roof, or there’s a memorial episode of Kingdom dedicated in your honor. The ICU or the mortuary, babies. And trust me when I say we’ve got enough toe tags and body bags for anybody who wants to puff out their chest. The dashed hopes and dreams of the heroes will be the warnings to everyone else of what’s to come. 

Speaking of people too fucking nice for their own good, Taniguchi Sena, come on down!

Tell me the truth, Sena. When you heard that this match was made, how long did it take before you started pissing down your pant leg? Yeah, you left Burning Sky with the Outlaw Championship by the absolute skin of your teeth, but I’ll keep the same energy for everyone. A win is a win…but it didn’t feel very much like a win, did it? You got the belt, but you didn’t exactly defeat Ty decisively, and I’m sure you’d have loved to use that as a talking point. Your friendship with him has gone up in smoke. He almost went full Ray Rice on Emmanuelle, who is probably now too preoccupied with her place in the war between World’s Greatest and TCC to even give two fucks about you right now. You’re all on your own, little dove. When that bell rings and it’s just you and I one-on-one, do you think you have what it takes to put me away? No shade whatsoever to the Young Lion of The Tribunal, but there is a very realistic chance that his vision was blinded by emotion. That the knowledge of what was to come was weighing heavily on his mind going into that match. Being matched up against his fellow Dojo Bro, the bombshell of Jeff being his dad sitting in the front of his mind, being pulled between the light side and the dark side…it’s a lot to swirl around in the head of a young upstart, and it could be the difference between a win and a loss, potentially. There is no love for me to lean on. I have no reason to pull punches, and there’s nothing complicating this for me. All I want out of this is to become a two-time Outlaw Champion, plain and simple…and you’re a fucking fool if you think there’s very much you can do to keep that from coming to pass. 

The belt that you’ve got over your shoulder, I made it what it is now. The Outlaw Championship has become known as a title for some of the hungriest among us. The lore that exists is “if you want the tests of your mettle to come fast and furious, this is the belt for you”. Newcomers and veterans alike, it’s just for anyone who likes to fight hard – and frequently. The reason that reputation exists for this championship is because of me. Emmanuelle’s mentor Carlos was stupid enough to put it up for grabs in what should’ve been a simple grudge match, and when I beat him (as I always do) I added it to my trophy case. Back then, it was the 24/7 Championship. It attracted all the fuckery scenarios and throwaway competitors. It was good for viral moments and not much else. At first, I didn’t want it for that sole reason. Why would The Queen associate with such clownery? It turned out to be one of those moments where I became reacquainted with my own power. I was clouted up enough and had more than enough skill to change the perception of what it meant to hold that championship. Like moths to a flame, actual legitimate competitors flocked to me and the renamed Outlaw Championship to see if they had what it took to make it out of a title fight with Aria Jaxon in one piece. And for seven months, I turned back everyone sent my way. By how hard I was willing to fight, I injected a prestige into this belt’s lineage that wouldn’t have existed otherwise. I permanently altered the landscape of OWA by turning a joke belt into a workhorse title. So as far as I’m concerned, it’s been on loan ever since then. So many have borrowed it since I put it on the map, but it’s time for it to return home. Do you truly think you can stop me from repoing my baby?

As corny as it sounds, everything happens for a reason. Losing two title matches immediately upon my return hurt my ego more than I cared to admit. I failed at winning the Tag Team Championships with Stephanie and then failed to capture the OWA World Championship right after that. With that being what it is, I’d say the stakes were high for me, if I was nervous. If I thought there was a chance in hell of coming up empty-handed for a third time, I’d be shitting bricks…but I’m not. I feel supremely confident. The version of me who walked through the door upon returning, she deserved to lose. That “I’m just happy to be here” humble veteran act needed to have the air let out of it. I needed a couple of gut punched to make me realize that if I wanted to succeed, I needed to adapt. If I’m going out there putting my body on the line — and my status as the GOAT — on the line every time the bell rings, I wanna make that risk worth it, right? And unless I’m winning matches or racking up titles, it’s not. This championship match is the last phase in my change of heart. To secure the Outlaw Championship again is the stamp on all of it. The golden, intangible proof that I can shove in the face of any nigga that asks me why I joined The Tribunal or why I stopped just accepting my fate with a nod and a smile. It’s been too long since I’ve been a champion, and that changes at your expense, Sena. 

In real life, being the good guy isn’t actually a guarantee that you’ll get what you want, or what you deserve. That’s a word that’s thrown around a lot in situations like this… “deserve”. Being nice doesn’t net you what you deserve. Being the better wrestler on any given night is what locks that up for you, and based on what I’ve seen? You’re not better than me. You might’ve eeked one out against Ty, but please don’t intend on trying to pull out any close victories over me. Swing for the fucking fences. It won’t save you from defeat, but throwing anything less than your best at me will only get you hurt. 

The game is fucking cold, ain’t it? It’s cold, but I’m colder. Imagine being told that you’re gonna put on the best match of your young career up to this point, and you’re still not gonna be the winner when all is said and done. The truth of the matter is that sometimes, the bad guy wins. And a not-so-fun-fact to throw on top of that is that whoever is BETTER wins, and sometimes that can also be the bad guy. 

In this story, it is the bad guy. 

You’ve already lost everything else, what’s the harm in adding the Outlaw Championship to the list? Your best friend found a new family. Your manager has her own shit to deal with. You’re a lamb being led to slaughter. When people look back on this night, some may remark on how Tenaguchi Sena managed to capture lightning in a bottle and win the Outlaw Championship, only for the bottom to fall out from underneath him a week later. I, however, will remember it as the night that the Queen of the Gods made her true return to form. The night that the First Lady of the Tribunal exerted her power in the most fearsome way possible. Your fairytale comes to an end at my hands. Shake that fairy dust from your eyes and ready yourself for the fight of your life. 

Scott Oasis, J.D. Damon, #BeLikeBea, Remington Ivory Prescott, DT The Ruler, Lazarus Arjen, Felix Hartley and have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Brody
Re: OWA Promos
Post August 3rd 2023, 5:09 pm by Brody
OWA Promos Brody_10


The ocean roared with fierce intensity as Brody sat solemnly atop the windswept dunes of a desolate beach. His eyes, usually full of life, resembled hollow husks that gazed despairingly into the distance. As the first light of dawn crept over the horizon, painting the sky a peculiar pink, the absence of any golden tones was an irony not lost on him. Grappling with the bitter sting of his first setback on a path he once resolutely believed was destined for glory, he found the weight of inadequacy bore heavily upon his aching shoulders. He was so sure that he would win. It was meant to be. Yet, here he sat, bereft. Relentless gusts whipped through his tangled hair, mirroring the tempestuous emotions engulfing his tortured psyche. He could feel the grains of sand shifting beneath his feet as the unwelcome specter of uncertainty grew larger in his mind. Adrift in an ocean of doubt, the haunting whispers of failure continued to echo with ceaseless abandon.
 
“I thought I’d find you here,” came a voice from behind. Brody remained still, his fixed upon the horizon. “Can I sit with you?”
 
Nat waited for a moment before sitting on her heels beside him. She, too, looked upon the vast expanse of the Pacific Ocean, allowing nature's majesty to fill the gap in communication.
 
“They say it’s always darkest before the dawn. What a crock of shit, eh? It’s definitely darker at midnight than it is now.”
 
The waves continued to crash as a flock of birds circled overhead, barely flapping their wings as they drifted on the tumultuous currents of the San Diego shoreline.
 
“I suppose it’s not meant to be taken literally. I always think about that saying when I’m faced with difficult moments, and I’ll admit it does make me feel a bit better. It doesn’t make my problems go away, but it gives me a little hope, you know? Sometimes that’s all you need. To be reminded that, although things may seem bleak, failure is a natural part of life. It pushes us to our limits and forces us to confront our deepest insecurities. In those moments, it's easy to surrender to those feelings of hopelessness. But it's during these moments that we discover what we’re truly made of.”
 
“Mmhmm.”
 
“I guess all I’m trying to say is, although it’s hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel, sometimes you’ve just got to wade into that darkness a bit before you’re able to see it. Have faith that it’s there, you know?”
 
“You’re not gonna tell me I should be proud of myself?”
 
“No, why would I?”
 
“That’s what everyone else’s been saying.”
 
“Well, I’m not here to make you feel better. Not intentionally, anyway. If you feel better after this, great. But that’s not what I’m trying to do. That would be selfish of me, as I’d only be doing it to reduce my discomfort at seeing you like this rather than allowing you to feel whatever it is that you’re feeling.”
 
“You want me to suffer?”
 
“Of course not. I want you to feel good, but not at the expense of ignoring the unpleasant parts of life. That’s not healthy, and yet it’s so deeply ingrained within our culture. People seem so uncomfortable with the prospect of failure that they seek to minimize it when they see it in others. But nothing says you have to meekly accept your fate.”
 
“How can I not? I lost fair and square. No interference. No cheap shots. He was the better man.”
 
“Oh, you can be a magnanimous loser, sure. But that’s not what people really mean when they tell you to have a stiff upper lip. They tell you to be a good loser because they recoil in horror whenever they’re confronted with the possibility that things might not go the way they want. You’ve probably felt it yourself. I know I have. You tell yourself that you’re doing them a favor by trying to cheer them up. In truth, you’re just avoiding reality at all costs to make yourself feel better. Like death, failure is unavoidable, and you’re in for a bad time if you only ever run away from it.”
 
A hint of light flickered behind Brody’s eyes.
 
“At the end of the day, you’ve got nothing to be proud of. I don’t say that to be cruel. You fought well, and I’m proud of you for that. But you lost, and I don’t think you’re the kind of person to be proud of yourself for losing, are you? If you are, then I’ve completely misjudged you, and you might as well quit right now, eh?”
 
Brody inhaled deeply through his nose and exhaled calmly out his mouth. His gaze became more measured as a newfound resolve began swelling within him.
 
“I mean, look at you. You’re losing like you fucking mean it. You’re losing with all your heart. I think it’s beautiful in a way. It’s healthy to feel the devastation—”
 
Brody shot a dirty at Nat.
 
“Sorry, poor choice of words. What I meant to say was that it’s healthy to feel the abject misery of failure now and then. It’s a human experience that we all must contend with at some point. Ignoring it won’t do any good, but understanding it might. Then, you’ll be able to use it wisely. It can be debilitating, sure. But it can also be a powerful motivator. Swathes of literature are devoted to stories of overcoming adversity. Embrace it not with despair but with the knowledge that it's a necessary part of our journey. Every setback we encounter is an opportunity for growth. Hold on to hope and faith, for just beyond this darkness lies the promise of a new day, where we'll look back and realize that the struggles and challenges make us who we are.”
 
“I suppose so,” said Brody. “But it’s not just failure I’m contending with, though. I can’t believe that, on one of the worst nights of my life, that greasy-haired fuck won the Prestige Championship. The fact that he needed that mentally ill goth’s help to do it makes it even worse. I really didn’t expect him to throw in with those Tres Comas cunts. I guess I overestimated him.”
 
“I know,” Nat replied with an exasperated sigh. “I couldn’t believe it, either. But you need to reckon with the fact that he is a champion now. Whether he’s worthy or not doesn't really matter.”
 
“It’s just… I—" Brody composed himself as he struggled to get his words out. “I hate feeling jealous of such a massive piece of shit. I’ve beaten him. I even have a better record. And yet…”
 
“It means nothing?”
 
“Yeah,” Brody’s muscles tensed with rage. “He’s the one who’ll be sitting in front of a camera in his stupid fucking office with a shit-eating grin, talking like a Batman villain about some bullshit like his fucking DVD collection. All while holding a championship belt.”
 
“One loss won’t define you, and one win won’t define him. Let me tell you a story—”
 
“Are there any tits?”
 
“Well, it’s an oral story, so…”
 
“Even better.”
 
“No, not like that – you know what, it doesn’t matter. It’s about two childhood best friends, Natalie and Sam.”
 
“Hey, that’s just like your name.”
 
“Right, yeah. Anyway, they grew up in the same small town in Australia and barely spent a day apart until they left for university. That’s where their paths forever diverged. Natalie became a successful tech entrepreneur, while Sam chose a life dedicated to teaching children in underprivileged communities. As Natalie’s wealth and status grew, she started flaunting her success with material possessions. At the same time, Sam remained humble and focused on positively impacting her students' lives. Despite their differences, they both deeply cared for their community.
 
“One day, their hometown held a charity event, and both were invited to contribute. Natalie saw this as an opportunity to gain even more recognition. She pledged a substantial donation, but her intentions were more for personal gain than genuine concern for those in need. Meanwhile, Sam, with her more meager means, contributed a small portion of her earnings. Although it wasn't a large sum, she gave from the heart, knowing that it could make a difference in the lives of her students.
 
“When the event's organizers announced the contributions, Natalie’s grand gesture was praised and admired, and she reveled in the acclaim. The spotlight didn’t linger long enough for her, though. On the other hand, Sam's modest offering received little attention, but she didn't mind. She was content knowing she had done what he could to help those in his community. Her compassion was by far the more valuable resource.
 
“As time passed, Natalie’s desire for validation and recognition grew, and she became increasingly envious of her former friend's contentment and the genuine respect she earned from the community. The envy consumed Natalie, and she felt eclipsed by Sam. Unable to cope with her emotions, Natalie invited Sam to her luxurious penthouse, hoping to understand the secret of her happiness and fulfillment. But their differences and animosity reached a boiling point during their meeting, and a heated argument ensued.
 
“In a moment of rage, Natalie lashed out at Sam, and the confrontation turned physical. After throwing her former best friend out of her apartment, she seduced her husband to hurt her. Haunted by her actions, Natalie’s life began spiraling out of control as she faced the harsh reality of her selfishness. With no escape from the guilt of what she’d done, she left Australia, seeking a fresh start where no one knew who she was. Now, six years later, and halfway around the world, she’s living a healthy life and has never been happier.”
 
“Dude,” said Brody, nodding in reflective awe. “So, you’re saying I should invite Poet to my house, attack him when he’s not looking, fuck his wife, and take his belt?"
 
“What? No!”
 
“Well then, how does that story relate to my situation in any way?”
 
“Are you serious? It’s about the perils of envy and the dark roads it can lead us down.”
 
“That’s what it's about? Huh. Well, you’re no Michael Bay, but I guess I kinda see your point. You gave off some Joel Osteen vibes, but that’s ok. Wait, you’re not gonna ask me to donate to the church, are you?”
 
“Not right this second, no,” Nat laughed. She rested her left hand on Brody’s right, lacing her fingers between his and squeezing his hand.
 
“So,” Brody smiled warmly. “Where'd you learn that story?”
 
“It’s about me, Brody. I’m Natalie.”
 
“You are? But you said it took place in Australia…”
 
“Correct.”
 
“Oh, did you change it from Austria to try and throw me off the scent?”
 
“Once again, I’m from Australia. Not Austria. What about that are you not getting?”
 
“Calm down, dude. Let's throw another shrimp on the barbie or something.”
 
“No, that’s not – wait, yeah, that’s right. I mean, it’s a stereotype, but it’s the right one, at least.”
 
As their eyes met, it felt as though they were the only two people in the whole world. Brody leaned close to Nat, raising his eyebrow suggestively as he gazed deeply into her emerald eyes. Her heart skipped a beat.
 
“So?”
 
“Yeah?” Nat replied with a devilish grin, perfectly aware of how secluded they were amid the dunes. The sun's early morning light had finally burst through the clouds, bathing them in an ethereal golden glow. Her breathing quickened as she ran her fingers through his rugged blonde hair, returning the intensity of his eyes.
 
“Do you wanna throw a shrimp on the barbie?”
 
“What… what do you think that means?”
 
Brody made a circle with the index finger and thumb of his left hand and proceeded to slip the index finger of his right hand through the loop repeatedly.
 
“Yeah, the moment’s gone, I think,” she giggled. “Let’s pick up some breakfast and see if we can recapture it back at my place. Your treat.”

#BeLikeBea, 'Don' Hendrix, Remington Ivory Prescott, DT The Ruler, Lazarus Arjen, Felix Hartley, Chad Ecclestone and grandcaster have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Jacob Senn
Redemption I
Post August 1st 2023, 10:57 pm by Jacob Senn
Elijah Hampton... my former partner, probably known to the wrestling world as my biggest rival in Omega Wrestling Alliance. We were once brothers, united under the banner The Dynasty, on the quest to restore prestige to the fallen name of this industry. Together, we ruled this business with an iron fist, conquering all who dared to challenge us, and claiming every championship we could ever hope to achieve. But my envy turned against our own, unleashed darkness and violence from a force of demonic nature, and became a monster of pride that could not see what he had become. Through all the broken bodies, through the destruction I made into this business of those who disrespected me, you were the one who stood against me when everyone else could not. Elijah, you were the one who saw through the manipulation and the vile tactics and made sure to put a stop to me. You took the Immortal Heavyweight Championship from me, and in that moment, I felt no anger or resentment. The only thing left for me to feel was emptiness. Victory meant nothing without respect, without the bond of brotherhood that we once shared, and my mind was warped from Belial to twist my desire into something of pure and unadulterated evil. I was blind to what truly mattered. Power and success consumed me, and I lost sight of the values that once defined me and The Dynasty – friendship, loyalty, respect, and prestige. I broke that trust, and now I must earn it back.

I stand before you now, seeking redemption that may be too far gone for me to grasp. I've shed the darkness that once consumed me, thanks to the help of Eon Blue, who saw the potential for good in me when no one else did. I saved you from The Seventh Ward, I offered a hand in reconciliation, but you denied me. I understand why you find it hard to believe in me, to trust me again. I don't blame you for your doubts, but I won't let that deter me from my quest for redemption.

This upcoming strap match is more than just settling old scores; it's about redemption, about earning the respect I discarded the moment I brought ruin to The Dynasty. It's a chance for me to prove to myself and everyone else that I can be better, that I can do better, and I can be the legendary name I once was. I've spent my time away reflecting on my actions, seeking redemption in every waking moment. I've trained not just my body, but my mind and soul as well. Redemption isn't an overnight process; it's a journey, a battle against the darkness within ourselves. I've learned from my mistakes, and I'll carry the burden of my past to drive me forward. Every step I take in that ring will be a testament to my resilience, to my determination to be better, and I don’t intend to allow the memory of Jacob Senn to be the man I was when Belial controlled me. I want to earn back the respect of this business, the fans, and most importantly, yours. The man who embraced darkness is gone. I'm a man reborn, a man who knows that the path to redemption is paved with sweat, pain, and heartache.

Elijah, I respect you as a competitor, and I know the challenge you present. You are charismatic, talented, and a true force in this industry. But in this strap match, I won't see you as just a rival; I'll see you as a key, a key that unlocks the door to my second chance. When we step into that ring, we'll unleash our inner demons, not as tools of destruction, but as a reminder of the darkness we've faced. It's a darkness we both know too well, and it's a reminder of the man I never want to become again. In that ring, we'll face each other as warriors, as brothers, and as rivals. Beyond the physicality and brutality this strap match will bring out of us, it's a battle for my redemption. The last time we fought like this, you defeated me for the Immortal Heavyweight Championship and as I said before, emptiness was what I was left with. I realized that the legendary reign I created with that championship was tarnished, stained with the disease of envy and disgust, and it meant nothing without prestige, respect, or the brotherhood I had. The difference between that title match and this strap match is that this match isn't just about winning a title; it's about earning your respect.

I'm not asking for forgiveness; I'm asking for a chance. A chance to prove that I can rise above my past and become a better man, a better competitor, and a better legend for this industry. This strap match is more than just a battle for supremacy; it's a battle for my soul. I'll fight with every ounce of strength in my body, every beat of my heart, to show you that I've changed from the man you fought through hell with. I'll give everything I have to prove that I can be better, that I can do better, and show you there’s a warrior’s soul that remains underneath this flesh and bone. This is my chance to prove myself, to show the world that the man who once walked in darkness can find his way back to the light. I know you may not believe in me now, you may not believe me after this match is said and done, but I will do everything in my power to make you believe. Whether my body aches, whether bones are broken, whether blood flows from my brow, I will not rest until you see the man I once was.

Elijah, when that final bell tolls, win or lose, I hope you'll see that I'm no longer the villain you despised. I hope you see the man seeking redemption, the man who wants to rebuild what was lost, and the man who wants to earn your respect through any means necessary. This is my opportunity to prove that redemption is within reach, that the path to redemption is paved through struggle and determination. I'll leave everything on the line, fight with every fiber of my being, and I won't let myself crumble into the darkness that once claimed my soul. So, you better prepare yourself. Get ready for a fight of true grit and spirit that shall put our match in Three Stages of Hell to shame. You best brace yourself to face a man driven by redemption, an indomitable and invincible force unyielding to restore what was broken, and a man who will leave everything on the line in that ring with you.

However, I don’t just have to convince you because everyone else in attendance and at home are just like you. Ladies and gentlemen, hear me loud and clear – the darkness that once consumed me is no more! Belial's grip on my soul has been shattered, and I stand before you as a man reborn. I've freed myself from the malevolent demon's control, and I am no longer a puppet to his wicked schemes. The Punisher has returned, not to inflict pain upon the innocent and those who seek to bring the prestige I once sought to bring to this industry, but to seek redemption and deliver punishment to those who have wronged me and this business. I want the world to know that I am not defined by my past mistakes, but by my unwavering commitment and dedication to righting the wrongs and transgression I committed as Immortal Heavyweight Champion. My transformation is not a facade; it's a genuine desire to be the better person and wrestler I know I can be for this business. I intend to prove that on Olympus, prove I am no longer the villain that terrorized this industry; instead, I am a force for good, a force for justice, and a force of prestige.

I will not shy away from the challenges that lie ahead. If that means facing the man I seek to earn respect from, Elijah Hampton, so be it. My journey of redemption will not be limited by fear or hesitation. Every step I take in that ring will be a testament to my commitment to redemption. I won't be deterred by doubts or skepticism that has been swirling around this company since the very moment I stepped back into it. This is not just a wrestling match; it's a battle for my soul, a battle to reclaim my honor, and a battle to rebuild the legacy my name once stood for. So doubt me when the moment comes. Doubt me when the strap is wrapped around my wrist. Doubt my transformation, because I don't blame you. But I promise you this – when we step into that ring, you will face The Punisher, a man driven to stare directly into your soul as he stands face-to-face once again to show you the person I have become reborn as. This is not about seeking vengeance; this is not about retribution for the pain I was put through in our last encounter. It's about righting my wrongs and becoming a beacon of hope for those who have lost their way as I did in the past.

In this strap match, I'll make sure Elijah Hampton feels the weight of every mistake I made, every betrayal I committed. This is my chance to punish myself and those who contributed to the destruction of my legacy to be the man I want to be. This match will be a statement of my resilience, my determination to rebuild my legacy as a true competitor. I won't just be seeking redemption in this match; I'll be seeking to rebuild the reputation that was tarnished by my actions. I know that actions speak louder than words, and I'll let my actions in that ring do the talking. This is not just about one match; it's about starting a new chapter in my career, one that is defined by honor, respect, and prestige. The legacy I hope to leave behind now will be one of redemption, of learning from mistakes, and of never giving up. I'll show the world that I am not defined by my past, but by my ability to rise above it.

I'm not asking for sympathy or forgiveness; I'm asking for an opportunity to right my wrongs and to prove that I deserve respect and admiration. This strap match is my chance to rewrite my story, to show that the villain in me is gone, and that I am a man seeking redemption. This is my opportunity to prove that redemption is possible for anyone, no matter how dark their past may be, no matter what evil has made you a puppet for its vile nature. It's about showing the world that no one is defined by their mistakes, but by their ability to overcome them. I may have been a villain once, but in this strap match, I'll be the hero of my own story. I'll be the man who fought his way back from darkness, the man who faced his demons and emerged stronger, and the man who earned the respect and admiration of everyone. This strap match is not just a battle in the wrestling ring; it's a battle for my soul, for my legacy, and for my future. Elijah Hampton, get ready for a fight like you've never seen before, a fight that goes beyond the physicality of the match.

This is a fight for redemption and to rebuild the legacy of the veteran that I am. I'm Jacob Senn, and I'm ready to prove to the world that redemption is earned, not given. Are you ready to witness the rebirth of a man seeking to rewrite his destiny?

Elijah Hampton, #BeLikeBea, 'Don' Hendrix, Remington Ivory Prescott, DT The Ruler, Lazarus Arjen and grandcaster have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Nas
Re: OWA Promos
Post July 29th 2023, 9:18 pm by Nas
You know…this is really funny to me. I’d thought for over a year now about what I may or may not possibly say in this situation if we were ever to reach this point in time.

But now all the stars have aligned, or in some people’s eyes hell has frozen over, and we find ourselves at the very moment in time itself.But now that we’re here…I honestly don’t know what to say. 

I know, an absolute rarity for me, which should probably tell you all what my self imposed isolation from the wrestling industry and the world has been like for all this time and the sort of effects it’s had on me as a person. 

So I suppose it’s only appropriate if I open up with this. I apologize. That’s not even directed at any one person in particular, because in truth whether directly or indirectly my actions over the years have screwed up things for all of you one way or another whether you’re even aware of it or not. And no I’m not gonna run down the laundry list, we’d be here all goddamn day if I decided to do so. And doing things like that led me down the path I deserved at the end of the day. In the beginning I thought I was simply doing what I thought was best for everyone. And I got so self absorbed in the mentality of “my way or the highway” that I didn’t even bother to acknowledge the concerns my peers had for my actions. And as time went on, my insecurities piled up and I began detaching myself from all the others around me. I had succumbed to darkness. This could plainly be seen in my tyrannical and nihilistic behavior in the last year I was around in OWA. And instead of reflecting internally towards myself on why everything was going wrong for me…I turned my frustrations and wrath towards everyone else around me. I made excuses instead of making changes to myself. I was so caught up in my own self absorbed world and warped perception of what my reality should have been that I was blinded to the truth. I was the one causing this pain and misery upon myself. It was all on me. And I could not see that. Spending so much of my life, particularly very impressionable and formative years of my life consumed by this daily, gave me a negative perception of things. I essentially grew into a dictator like figure who thought he was creating a utopia for all under his image. But all I did was come off as a jaded, clout chaser with a short temper. One who’s harsh words and unagreeable actions cut off all those who previously considered him a peer, mentor, or even friend.

I fell into isolation. A fitting punishment for someone like myself. A man who always desired the attention of the entire world be on him. Someone who couldn’t accept that the spotlight had passed him by and that his time on top was miniscule compared to his predecessors. But he looked at the glass half empty and not half full. He only saw how his main event run paled in comparison to those top stars that came before him. He did not consider how those that desired those same opportunities for years looked at him lashing out and throwing temper tantrums over not being even more favorably treated than he already was. Basically I was ungrateful for the opportunities I DID receive, which are NOT guaranteed to anyone in this sport. And the reason for my ungratefulness stemmed from a place of expectation. Because of my formative years in the industry, I was not grateful for the opportunities I got. I expected them to come to me. Which is highly ironic for those that can go far enough to know my humble beginnings. I ended up treating people the exact same way I was treated by those I was trying to break out against. I became what I opposed. I turned into the very same monster I wished to destroy. And I couldn’t see it until I was forced to take a step back from everything and reflect internally. I had to look towards myself and my actions over the years to truly determine how I had come to reach the lonely hell I now occupied. And that’s when it all resonated with me. The way I bullied and belittled others. The way I forced my ideals and beliefs upon others without their agreement. It was all my own fault. And thus my own punishment was my own doing as well. But it also gave me time to not just look at all the bad I did over the years in OWA. It allowed me to look at the idealistic, humble young man from the years before he rose to power and prominence. An immense fan of this sport we call professional wrestling. Highly influenced by the titans of the industry from many years past. But also as stated a very idealistic young man. Being a main event star was a very isolated and exclusive club. In my youth, I set out to change the mold of what a top star in a big time wrestling promotion could be. I wanted to prove anyone of any shape or size, from any background COULD reach the top with enough hard work, passion, and fanfare behind them. And I did that…but just as quickly as I did, the gold I now possessed consumed me and turned me into the very men I wanted to overthrow. I became just like them. I became the oppressive monster on top of the world. And that’s why I don’t blame anyone’s trepidations about my newfound presence here in the Omega Wrestling Alliance. It’s easy for anyone to say all of this and just blow a bunch of smoke up your asses. Just because I express all of these thoughts does not mean you have to believe me. I fully realize and accept that. That’s why I don’t want my words to impart upon you all. I want my actions to. 

And that doesn’t hold truer towards anyone else here than Moongoose McQueen. No matter what I say to this man there’s no way speaking alone could ever convince him that I’m a reforming man or doing the best I can to earn everyone’s trust once more. You can call me all the things you want Moongoose. I’m selfish. I’m an ego-maniac. I’m a snake in the grass. I’m playing 4D Chess attempting to manipulate everyone with my reform sob story just to put myself back into position to dominate the industry once more. These are all beliefs you hold very true to you. And I know for a fact you’re far from the only one. But that’s where Burning Sky comes into play. I plan on proving to each and everyone one of you that what I say is true through my conviction. Only in combat can I truly make you understand the thoughts that currently run through my mind and my heart. I’ll do what I’ve always done, whether I’ve been on the right or wrong side morally. Whether I was a legend of an unknown. No matter the circumstance. I always fought my ass off for whatever I believed, that is undeniable! And best believe you attempting to cripple me HAS caused my anger to rise. I don’t want to senselessly maim you McQueen! Nothing will be proven by me doing so. But I will get my retribution! And I’ll show you I am a man of my word! Because that’s one thing good or bad that I have always been. I never knew where this idea of me being a backstabbing snake in the grass stemmed from. Because if ANYTHING my biggest issue was being Honest to a FAULT! Not biting my tongue and saying whatever was on my mind no matter who I may or may not have hurt with my beliefs. Trust me Moongoose, I don’t mince words or pull punches for some grandiose plan in the long run! You were around when I first broke out from the pack in this industry all those years ago. You should know better than that! How I got over in the first place was I spoke my unfiltered truth. I shared what was on my mind and I shared the contents of both my mind and my heart with all of those who would be willing to listen. People resonated with that. And all I’m looking for in this business now is to do that at least one last time! My time is beyond me. I’m not chasing after world championships. I don’t desire main events at premier shows any longer. Not just because I’ve realized the damage of never endingly chasing after such things has done to my psyche. But even more importantly because…I’m not the Nasir Moore from that time. And I don’t mean mentally this time when I say that. I mean physically. I’ve been wrestling a long goddamn time! I’m not stupid. I fully realize the physical limitations on my current body. I’ve wrestled a few matches over the last few months, but for the most part I’m rusty. And I’m not a spring chicken either. But I’m not some completely broken down old bastard who can't fend for himself either! I’m not looking to be the Best Wrestler Alive any longer. I don’t want to have the greatest wrestling match in the world with you Moongoose McQueen! I just wanna FIGHT YOU AND PAY YOU BACK FOR THAT ATTACK! I return every single ounce of pain you’ve dished out upon me twice fold tomorrow at Burning Sky!
OWA Promos 405-69
Re: OWA Promos
Post July 28th 2023, 11:59 pm by "Killer Bee"
Baton Rouge, Louisiana



“What do you want?” 


“....Can we talk for a few moments, please?” 


Sena knew that Diantha absolutely detested him solely because of who he was trained by. That didn’t stop him from seeking her out though. While it was obvious that any true professional relationship between them was a non-starter for Diantha, for some reason she enjoyed seeing her brother’s pupil visit her. Maybe it was the fact that her ego craved the boost of pushing someone her brother trained to be better in ways he hadn’t thought of or maybe the fact that Sena reminded her a lot of herself in her early OWA days: talented but perhaps a little too naive and giving. Now that the kid was standing in her office with two of her security men flanking him on either side, she could tell he was tense.


“You snuck in here, uninvited, mind you. So understand me when I say that this better be very, VERY interesting.” 


“Have you ever fought someone that you cared about? You have respect for them, you want them to succeed, but you know to get where you want to go you have to go through them?” 


Diantha did not enjoy the question at all. Her face contorted into a scowl. The question brought back too many memories that she tried to push out of her mind. Times when the fans that she believed turned on her were typically her biggest supporters. 


“The matches with Natalie and Dulce. Natalie was someone that I looked up to for a long time, even when we were partners. She showed me a lot and helped me grow as a talent and in some ways as a person. When I challenged her for the title, she used her personal relationships against me instead of losing honorably. Even when I beat her in a title defense later on, I never ever forgave her for that. Dulce was never mean to me. Even when I was a constant challenger for her, she never did anything but fight to the best of her ability. She broke my heart at Final Destination when she beat me, but still nominated me for the Promethean Chamber when everyone else thought I should just go away….” 


“What do you mean with all of that?” 


“The lesson that you’ve got to learn, Tanaguchi Sena, is that when you want something in this world you have to be absolutely merciless. Sometimes you have to even be cold and think of things in practical terms. Wrestling is no place for an idealist.” 


“...You used to be one.” 


“....You were trained by someone who never was so I don’t have a fucking clue where you get all this bushido bullshit from.” 


Diantha’s words were pointed, but not nearly as pointed as the glare she was giving Sena now. She hated being reminded of what she used to be. In her mind, that was weakness. Sena for his part didn’t flinch. He knew that Diantha was the antithesis of nearly everything he thought a good wrestler and champion should be…and that’s exactly why he felt he should talk to her about how to approach the opportunity and burden that he had on the horizon. 


“I’m worried about Ty.”


“And what does Cloudy’s little protege have to do with any of this?” 


“I’m fighting him for the Outlaw title. But….”


“Let me guess, you notice that since he’s been getting laid and has a belt around his waist he’s looking at you less and less like a partner and more and more like a little brother. Oh, you probably want to ‘save him’, don’t you? You and that half-breed hoodrat Emmanuelle are only holding him back as far as I can tell, so you trying to save him won’t do much good. Word gets around..I know that the two of you went and sought out a certain someone and now you two have some untapped potential.” 


“It’s not about that. I never really wanted to seek out Abholos. But we did…and now he’s using the power…and it only grows every time we fight.” 


“Then I would start fighting as often as possible. Your partner is not going to play nice so I would suggest that you don’t either. It’s no secret that you’ve been having eyes for that Outlaw Title ever since you went to Kingdom. And it’s no secret that there’s a rift between you two. Repair it, smash the bridges between you and piss in the lake, I don’t care. The why isn’t important anymore. The what if’s are just that, what if’s. So if I were you…I would choose ambition over the comfort of friendship. Put aside this ‘saving your friend’ nonsense and go win the fucking Outlaw Championship.” 


“Who is to say I can’t do both?” 


“Careful, student, greed will corrupt you.” 


“Like it did you?” 


For some reason, the words made her smile. Sena always spoke the truth, even to her.


“Get the fuck out of my office….” 



Ty….


I’ve failed you. 


As a tag partner. And as a friend. 


For that, Tyler, all I can say is that I’m sorry. When we formed this team, it was quite clear to both of us that where we were on the Kingdom pecking order wasn’t good enough. We wanted to conquer the tag team division and then become individual champions. We wanted to build something special. We’re only part of the way to that and it’s my fault. I’ve let you down every time we’ve had a chance to win the tag championships. I let you down during the Clash, not being able to help you advance even further than you did. 


As crazy as this may sound to you, but maybe by being an enemy instead of a friend for a few days I can actually be of some help to you. 


This is one time when we can’t sugarcoat things between us. In order for us to go forward as a team, as friends, we have to be one hundred percent honest. 


Was I thinking about challenging you before what we saw happened with Striker? 


Yes. 


I’ve always wanted to fight you. At some point, either as partners or as rivals, our paths were going to cross. That’s one reason why fighting you has great appeal to me. The other reason is the title you’re holding. Everyone who follows my career knows that I was so close to capturing the Outlaw Championship in my match against MYOJIN. I could feel the leather and trace over the gold with my fingertips….


One lapse in concentration and it was all an illusion, a mirage. A mirage that I can’t quite shake out of my mind. I’ve been obsessed with getting better, getting prepared for another challenge for that title. I don’t think I would have been as hasty and eager to challenge others as I am you, but that title and our potential for a rivalry during or after our partnership is over is just part of the reason. 


I think you have a good idea of what the other reason is: your attitude. Emmy is of the mind that having Cassie around as often as you do has you, to use her verbiage, “pussy whipped”, but you and I both know that it’s much deeper than that. You’ve brought gold to our dojo and shined in ways that I can’t. That’s a fact. When you needed help a few weeks ago, me and Emmy weren’t able to get out to you in time. That’s also a fact. Ever since we sought out Abholos to try to find our full potential, your success as a wrestler has increased exponentially. Massive matches, a shocking title victory, a strong run in the Clash. Everything that you’ve wanted has started to come true.


I, however, have stalled. I’ve barely been on television for the past few weeks, no significant matches to speak of other than our chance at the tag titles and the Clash of the Titans. No gold. No glory. That doesn’t bother me nearly as much as the change that I’ve noticed in you. You’ve grown cold. You’ve become someone that is slowly getting more and more unrecognizable from the guy that Emmy scouted and suggested I team with. 


Is there something wrong with me? 


Is there no longer a need for the Dojo Bros to exist? 


Should I give up my wrestling career and just do something else? 


I’ve thought about these questions a lot the past couple of months, more often than I want to admit honestly. But, with that neverending bit of self-reflection I start to see things a bit more clearly for the both of us. The Tyler that I teamed with before wouldn’t wave gold around in his friend’s face, earned or not. The Tyler that I teamed with once helped save me from a beatdown or two himself. The fact that you left Striker on his own in a situation he obviously had no chance of winning made me fucking sick. I understand that it’s not your business, not your fight, but you have a very strange way of showing respect lately. 


That’s why this match is taking place. 


I would love to scratch the itch that I’ve had since I walked into OWA and become the Outlaw Champion. I would love even more to beat you to do it, but this is not everything that this match is about. 


This match is to remind you of who you are and what you’re about. This isn’t going to be a practice spar in the dojo with Emmy shouting instructions. She’s just there to be the referee and decide when one of us has had enough. The punches that we used to pull sometimes to keep one another from getting hurt, we’re gonna throw them for real. Every move is going to have a much different feeling to it. Are you prepared for that? Are you willing to accept that? Are you ready to reciprocate? 


I may not be able to take that damn title from you, but one thing that I will do without question is get your attention. You know me. You know that there are times where I am sometimes too cautious, too naive, too trusting. You won’t have to worry about that in our match. You’re going to see me go to fairly extreme lengths to make sure that you understand that the path you’re going down is twisted. 


Something else that I’ve been thinking about: You probably have every intention of calling Emmy a hypocrite for her instructions and the way she’s been on your ass of late. Maybe you don’t know this but Emmanuelle pretty much came into the wrestling industry the way you’re acting now: entitled, aloof and honestly a bit of a prick. Don’t get me wrong, that attitude is probably one of the biggest reasons for her success. But it was also her downfall. Friends who were close to her were suddenly not worth calling and texting back. Advice from mentors and peers who saw she was destined for ruin went unheeded. She was Shogun Champion, only once beaten in WrestleWorld and even that was under controversial circumstances. 


Then she lost to Christopher Sabertooth…with a little assist from HAVOC to level the playing field after her entourage of hangers-on got involved. That loss shattered her to the point where she shaved her head bald. She’s recovered to have an outstanding career all over the world. World Champion twice over, manager, trainer. The reason that she’s been so hard on you of late is that she sees the signs that a downturn is coming…and she’s trying to keep you from having to sink to the same murky, painful, disgusting bottom that she did. And that’s why she was so adamant about being the referee for this match. She doesn’t particularly care who wins between us, she just wants to make sure that whoever wins does it the right way.


You want me at my best? Don’t worry, you’ll get that and beyond. We’ve tried working this out with words and that has gotten us nowhere. Maybe between those ropes and on the canvas that we both have trained so hard to practice our craft on, maybe we can solve the problem that we have. Maybe I can show you that you’re nowhere near as far ahead of me as you’d like to think. Maybe I can show the world that I am ready to be the next OWA Outlaw Champion at long last. And maybe I can show myself that I can control the power that has been given to me. 


With Great power comes Great responsibility. So, Ty, I’m going to use that great power to take on the great responsibility of pulling your head out of your ass and slamming you back to earth, one suplex at a time. I’ll see you soon….Ty-kun.




“Hi.” 


“Hi.” 


After his rather abrupt exit from Diantha’s office, Sena had managed to find another person to talk to about his dilemma. SONYA was a perfect contrast to Diantha’s harsh, pragmatic view of the world. While she had an air of innocence about her, the tall Japanese woman understood not only wrestling but what it was to be in a similar situation as Sena when it came to seeing rifts in a friendly relationship with fellow wrestlers. They had decided to grab lunch together since she was in town. The pair were not dating but definitely had a respect and fondness for each other that made them considerably close.


“I heard about the match that you’re going to have with Ty.” 


“Yeah.” 


There was a tense silence between them. Sena didn’t know how to ask the question and SONYA was having difficulty putting an answer to words. Eventually, however, she found what she was trying to say. 


“I understand what you’re going through. I wrestle as a part of a group called Shinijoshi, an all female faction. A week or so ago, our leader Narumi questioned my effort. She questioned my desire to be a pro wrestler. It pained her to do so but it had to be done. My reaction wasn’t sadness or feeling that I wasn’t good enough. Not even jealousy that I was being scolded by a World Champion that had everything I wanted. It was rage. I lost myself in it for a while. I wrestled Narumi-chan not long after that as a way for us to clear the air with our fists…my rage cost me just enough for her to squeak by with a victory.” 


“Sonya, I….” 


“I understand that Ty’s attitude of late isn’t something you’re a big fan of. I also understand that feeling of not being good enough, that perhaps you’ve lost your way and shouldn’t even be a wrestler.” 


“I’ve always wanted to do this. Other things like poker and technology and teaching all caught my eye but this is what I’ve been wanting to do since I was in diapers. No one in my family has wrestled before me, but it’s in my blood!” 


“I understand. Listen to me. I know that you have been blessed with a great gift. Perhaps it’s time you started using it in earnest. Fighting between brothers and sisters is painful and sometimes bitter. Things can be said that cause great pain. But sometimes that pain makes the bonds even stronger. I know that you and Emmy are concerned about Ty, but I don’t believe he’s as far down the path as you think he is.” 


“...What about the Outlaw Championship?” 


Sonya couldn’t help but smile a bit.


“What about it? You want it, don’t you?” 


“Yes.” 


“Then fight. There’s no reason to hold back for either of you. You made the challenge. He accepted. You have issues as a team that you need to work out. YOU have issues internally that you need to address. You’ve been afraid of the power within you, believing that it will corrupt you to being the next Diantha or DT or something like that. You don’t have to live that way! Your power can be a force for positive things in the world if you learn to control it.” 


“But what if I can’t?...What if I go to an extreme that I’ll regret? What happens then if people close to me get hurt?” 


“I wish you had a little more faith in yourself than you do, Sena. You can do this. You can control that power, repair the rift in your team AND win the Outlaw Championship.” 


“You think so?” 


“I know so. I have faith in you. Emmy does too. I’m not sure where Stephanie Matsuda-san stands on everything, but I think she trusts you to do the right thing too. But…it means nothing if you’re not prepared.” 


“I am.” 


“Good.” 


With that, everything that needed to be discussed was finished. They smiled at each other again before Sena stood up, giving her a soft kiss on the cheek in gratitude. Sonya didn't pull back from the kiss or react negatively, but she did freeze up a bit in her seat, a furious blush spreading over her cheeks and a wide-eyed stare.


"I appreciate you listening to everything. And helping me build up belief that I can do this." 


"....It's just like I said. You know that you can do this. Everyone around you knows that you can do this..even Ty. Prove them right about you. Most importantly of all, prove it to yourself." 


"...Are you okay? You're blushing pretty heavily." 


"Um, I'm fine. I'm just not used to displays of affection like that. Most guys are afraid that I'll powerbomb them into oblivion if they look at me funny." 


"Right...." 

Aria Jaxon, Scott Oasis, Alyssa Grace, 'Don' Hendrix and DT The Ruler have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Moongoose McQueen
Re: OWA Promos
Post July 28th 2023, 11:54 pm by Moongoose McQueen
Heavens on Fire


So why Nas? What has he done to me? After all, I can count the number of times we’ve been in the ring at the same time with one hand, and this, Burning Sky, will be the first official match. Moongoose McQueen vs Nasir Moore. Why did I essentially cost him the match last week? Why did I assault him? Why did I turn his knee into spaghetti?


In my defense, He’s rude, he’s an ego maniac, he’s crude, a fake, a big fat phony. But those aren’t the reasons why I did what I did. I did what I did to prevent a bigger crisis. The Nasir Moore that you all see on tv isn’t the man you think he is. Like me, he has ambitions, visions, an idea and concept of what he believes to be the future of this business, but unlike me, they are selfish and doomed to fail. I did what I did to hold that man accountable. He comes to the locker room to seek forgiveness and to repent, but it’s not like he hasn’t done that before. After all, how many breaks and hiatus did this man take only to come back and put himself in a position to win a title? 


They all did it, they forgave him, and to make this clear, it is not because they truly believe he is a changed man. It is not because they like him. It is not because they believe Nasir Moore is good for business. It’s because nobody in the locker room cares enough and figure it would just be easier to let this man roam around back here and be. But not me… No way! Because if his time on Olympus was anything, it was toxic. It was poison. It was cancer. Olympus is easily 100 times better now than it was when Nas’ presence was there. I’m not talking just about quality. I’m talking just about morale. I’m talking about politics and ego, because here he is, presenting himself as the greatest wrestler in the world, the protagonist, the main event draw, but in reality, he easily has the biggest fragile ego in the world. He is weak. He is a coward. He is a snake, and I’m simply doing what I believe must be done.


If no one in OWA wants to hand this man his divine punishment, then it will be me. On paper, Moongoose McQueen vs Nasir Moore sounds like a dream. Two distinctive styles and ideology and approach, clashing. I’ve heard what he had to say about me in the past. I’ve heard how he said guys like me wouldn’t and shouldn’t get their shot in to be the face of the company. It was always “safer” to put him and his prospects on the posters and card. After all, lets bring in someone that hadn’t wrestled a damn match in OWA represent Team OWA in a Civil War. Because this man doesn’t care about organic growth in this business, he is all about taking it from others and artificially creating his own. But where are they? Where is Bull? Where is Garath? Should I be expecting them to come into the locker room asking to return like you? I doubt it, because in the end, Nasir Moore burns bridge when things don’t go his way.


Honestly, looking at him disgusts me. It pains me to say how similar we are, but I never had the power or position he had. There are days I look at his career and wonder, if I was in the right place and the right time, what could I have done in creating my legacy. The story I want to tell, only to realize, its all fake. Putting yourself in the position to be the hero despite all the contradicting actions, because you just can’t stand it. You just couldn’t handle it. Being told that your career was lackluster and uninspiring, especially since you “worked so hard” to make it a reality, but yet here I am, a man that didn’t have your title or position, doing horrible things, getting real authentic reactions and respect around here to a point, even I made a believer out of you when you saw for the first time, my match with Abholos at Final Destination is what the fans wanted, and you went out of your way to suddenly believe in the “weird guy.” 


When saying all this, it doesn’t even make sense? I’m clearly the bigger and better man here, and I really don’t need to be doing any of this. In the end, I won and I should be saying that Moongoose McQueen, this is beneath him. Nasir Moore is beneath him. I shouldn’t be upset. I shouldn’t be angry! Yet… Yet, I can’t help myself, because I know. I know better than everyone else here. You failed at Olympus, and now you are coming to Kingdom to finish your story, and I got bad news for you, because you were better off going to Odyssey instead. I’m not going to let you finish your story. I’m not going to let you slither your way in here. I’m not gonna let you flex and remind everyone all of the things you have done to convince them just how important you are. Because at the end of it all, Kingdom thrived non-stop while Olympus, we don’t talk about that period of time, because it was one of the most disgraceful, ingenious runs in OWA history. 


I’m gonna do to you what someone should had 4 years ago. While I shouldn’t blame you for idoloizing the wrong people and carrying their methods with you over to here, I’m not going to let that shit spread, and maybe…. Just maybe, if you were honest and told the truth of why you are here, I’d let you go. Are you here for another World title? You want the Grand slam? You want to take the Main Event for Final Destination despite not winning the Clash of the Titans, but whatever, fuck Aria Jaxon, am I right? Maybe you are here to promote a new company where you want to try the same bullshit you did before. Be honest with yourself and us for once, but as far as I’m concern, a scorpion doesn’t change it’s nature. You will continue to lie. You will continue to loathe. And you will continue to be greedy and that is why I will put an end to you…. Once and for all. 

You think what happened on Kingdom was bad? You’re about to learn two new things. One, just how much I really hate and despise you through my actions…. And two…. Just how much everyone …and I mean… EVERYONE hates you when I beat the living daylights out of you and no one will bat an eye, because everyone could care less what happens to Nasir Moore. This is the end. I’d tell you for your best interest, for your sake to not show up. But the Nasir Moore I know, would never allow his precious self-image to be a coward. I’ll see you there.

Alyssa Grace, 'Don' Hendrix and DT The Ruler have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Mav.
Re: OWA Promos
Post July 28th 2023, 11:45 pm by Mav.

❝ DREAMS AND NIGHTMARES. ❞
BURNING SKY 02.  \\  vs ARTHUR WAKEFIELD JR and NOAH KRIEGER.

I’m not impressed in the slightest that I’ve had to come this far to even have a chance of winning.

The days of people being a bunch of goddamn try-hards is ridiculous and I’m kinda growing tired of it. I remember when one person used to do it all the time, spent every moment possibly speaking and drilling their voice into our heads because they thought it would’ve given them some brownie points at the very end of the year – but you know what happened? It didn’t actually do anything for him. He didn’t get what he wanted proven to him, he didn’t get those brownie points that he was looking for, and now look at what has become of him. A shell of himself because he could never return to old glory.

People berated him for what he was doing to everyone and what he was trying to do for his own selfish wants and needs. Yet, a newcomer has taken the charge and I haven’t seen a peep heard about it. They’re praising him to be the hero because he’s trying to fight back against the forces of evil – even if it is the same point over and over again as if he’s reading the same powerpoint presentation again and again. I didn’t give a shit about it but it’s getting to me because it seems like you’ve been trying so hard against me even when I haven’t even opened my mouth to you yet. I remember you did it for our very first match together and I slapped some sense into you, you did it to me the second time just a few weeks back and I was taken back by it. I was shocked by it and the story’s been told there. Third time in a row against me, Noah.

I’ve never had the issue of my ego being kicked around because you’ve mouthed away to the abyss when the abyss hasn’t even awoken – because I find it both hilarious and equally retarded – but it’s because I know that’s the biggest weakness you’ve got going on inside of you. A man that’s afraid of his image being tarnished in the slightest, I’ve never really seen anything quite like it. I’ve never really experienced a man quite like you and I thought that my biggest weakness was because I’d talk too much shit that I couldn’t back it up. You talk so much that it’s become the shield between the fantasy inside of your head where you’re the better man, you’re the strongest of them all, that you just want to block anything off before a certain someone can entertain themselves with the thought of making you so little with words.

I knew you were weak, Noah, but I never thought that it had become this intolerable for you. I knew you weren’t as strong as you really projected yourself into being but had you really thought that it was hard to see through the smoke and mirrors you put down in front of you? I wasn’t sure of what I was seeing but now, it’s all too clear to see, so allow me to be realistic with you for a moment.

For as much as you might believe that this was my intention to continue onward in facing you, you were solely wrong on that matter. The strangeness of you believing that I want to crash your whole ‘story’ because you ‘ended mine’ is delusion beyond comparison. Let’s discuss it for a moment. You’ve begun to tell your story from the very beginning and you didn’t really begin to write chapters until you found your way to me. My story continued onward from there, I had a long way to go until it was near an ending. You were beginning the next chapter and looking where it got you. You wanted to tell Aria that my own story had ended because of you? You thought that the story of my success had ended because of Noah Krieger? Holy fuck, have you not been paying attention for the past six months at least? Like, at least since March, have you not been paying attention to anything that’s been happening around you?

My success story died because of Stark, not because of you. As far as it concerns you at all, you weren’t anywhere near that championship. So, unless you’re going to enlighten me on what story you might’ve ended – all you’re doing is drowning the world with misinformation, deceit, and straight up lies. I’m not mistaken when I say that you’ve been the babyface hero of Kingdom as of late, right? So, someone like you wouldn’t just flat out lie to anyone, would they? Make it make sense, Noah, because at the moment? You’re not making any sense. I told you, and everyone around, that this whole heroic symbolic bullshit you’ve been shoving down the throats of so many doesn’t even make you the good guy in this situation. You’ve been filling everyone’s wants and needs with what they want to hear because they’re worried for the last real good guy they’ve got on their side actually turning to a supposed evil.

Yet, you’ve been nothing but that evil ever since you’ve lost the initial match to me and I won’t hear otherwise. I want you to take a second to listen back to all of the things you’ve said to me. To all of the repeated jaunts you’ve used against me. To all of the words you said to me and thought it was truthful. You might not see it, anyone in CATCH Hound might not see it, but I do. You’re living in your own weird fantasy where only you can do better than me. Nobody else can. I mean, isn’t it just a little bit weird to be like that? Isn’t it weird that you’re a man who can only imagine being the one on top of me all of the time? It’s like creating a story/career mode where it’s only about you trying to beat me, you’ve set it to very easy difficulty, and you’re beating me each and every single time. That’s what goes on inside of your head because you’re insecure of the day that I might shatter that fantasy from reality.

But, I gain nothing from ending your story because to be honest with you? You’ve got nothing that’s worth my time. The only thing from your story that I might take is the Spartan Championship but we’ve been there and we’ve done all of that. I don’t need to outperform you for the championship because you’ve beaten me one time for it and I’ve beaten you one time for it. I have no use for that thing whatsoever. Your story, however, does not reflect on that championship and if I were the one to end it all for you? I wouldn’t stop it by taking that gold from you. I’d rip your fucking heart out of your chest to end that story for good and so you can finally shut the fuck up for once, finally stop the infection of your lies and deceit and let Kingdom breathe a bit of fresh air – not the bygone product of a miniature Wakefield cosplayer.

And speaking of that fucking surname? I’m sick to bastard death of hearing the name Wakefield. I legitimately do not fucking care for Arthur and I’d rather spend the next ten to fifteen minutes of my life describing the many ways I can possibly put an end to my life and it would’ve been more entertaining than trying to come up with anything noteworthy against that fucking cum stain. I mean, the only good thing that he had was a five minute period where a graphic went up on the OWA twitter page that read “AND NEW SPARTAN CHAMPION, ARTHUR WAKEFIELD JR” before being taken down because the idiot fucking interns – whoever they might be – premade the graphic, had it ready for Arthur’s victory, and prematurely misjudged the timing that it took to decide Chad Ecclestone as the real winner of that match. And considering, for the amount of months that you’ve been here, that the moment I just described is your only good - and notable - moment on this fucking brand says a whole lot about you that I don’t really need to go further into anymore.

I mean, Dick Slaughter had made more of a memorable career here than you. I’m sure that Jacob Striker has looked much better doing fuck all than what you’ve done here. I found more entertainment in Monsieur Malachite Minj than I found in you and that says a lot, doesn’t it? I didn’t have to provide many examples of why I don’t give a shit about you and why I don’t care about you but here we are, Arthur. The best that you can provide for me, after I had beaten you so easily and so cleanly, was the same shit that Krieger’s been saying for months now. The same shit that everyone’s been saying for so long now. I thought that everyone at CATCH Hound would be a little bit smarter and more snappy to create something new to say but you’re back to the powerpoint presentations and you sound so robotic with the same quips. Like a blank expression on your face and reading off what’s been imprinted into your heads. I feel as if Landerson would’ve come up with something more exciting than what you’ve both pulled off here.

I feel like you get the point now, Arthur.

The real thing here is that the problem hasn’t been for us trying to become better than you, it’s become you finally accepting that you’re not as good as you think to believe in being. After all, how many times have I heard it over and over again with any of you that you live and breathe for professional wrestling? How many times has it been because I think it’s been too fucking many altogether. You want some truth? I have lived, breathed, and starved for professional wrestling. My hunger is only softened by this fucking sport and the whole ‘live and breathed’ shit isn’t enough – I FUCKING DIED FOR THIS SPORT, not once and not twice, either. I’ve done everything for professional wrestling and much more before you can even begin to say that you’ve done this or you’ve done that. Just know one thing and one thing only, if you could take one thing away from my out of nowhere rambling that wasn’t rushed through in the span of about a couple of hours.

I always did it better than you, on any level and at any capacity and it won’t stop on a whim that you might find yourselves walking out of there as the winners of the tag team match – because it won’t be enough, it never will be. And as much as you might find yourselves as trying to save Kingdom ‘once again’, allow me to give you the reminder of who the fuck we are.

A real set of heroes that Kingdom fucking deserves.

Aria Jaxon, Alyssa Grace, 'Don' Hendrix and DT The Ruler have spoken. It’s such good shit!

VaeVictisBD
Re: OWA Promos
Post July 28th 2023, 11:44 pm by VaeVictisBD
OWA Promos AWJR

GODS STRONGEST WARRIOR (ME).
FIGHTING HIS HARDEST BATTLE (PROMOING ON A MOBILE PHONE).

"My surname, the family I come from, will always be attempted to use as a weapon against me.

Every action I take a gamble of its value. Every result putting a little on the line.

Bold for many to assume it's my most defining trait.

The name “Wakefield” haunts you, Jason and I understand why. My existence is proof that it leave something behind. And though it might be true the Big Boss is a notorious tryhard going to great lengths to cement his legacy, in comparison to yours? There’s no comparison to yours. When he stood at the top of OWA, carrying that very same championship you finally got your hands on. After so many years, he didn’t make a mockery of it. He carries his share of regrets but when he stood at the top of the mountain? No one knocked him off. No one could. It’s night and day to even mention your names in the same breath under the banner of the OWA when you’ve only reached the apex of the minor leagues talent here wouldn’t touch. But I know that’s not the reason why. You know that’s not the reason why. You and I both know your hatred stems from something a little bit more than what is documented on a rèsumè. No, your jealousy stems from the touch of a woman who never even gave you a second glance. You’ll are meant the name Wakefield because she — the woman who becomes my great, great, great grandmother — is the one fantasy you’ll never be able to fulfill as she was destined to fall into the arms of another. A Wakefield got her first. And you can amuse yourself with the possibilities of alternative timelines, the big “what if’s” that run through your dreams at night that anger you when you wake in a cold sweat — but what difference will that make, Jason? What difference does it make for attending your relationship with Alyssa isn’t a borderline category on PornHub where you’re in the corner shooting jealousy into a wadded up tissue? Because let’s turn your little thesis around; I’ve noticed you have a new girlfriend of the month. I see you’ve done well for yourself, but given the lifespan of these relationships is a very good chance that won’t be true by the time this makes the airwaves. You don’t have to worry about the boss man addressing her with his eyes, a younger Wakefield has his head in the clouds, and would puff puff pass her around if you catch my drift. (Cause her name is Cloudy and she owns a weed dispensary. Hilarious.)

There are ultimate timelines of every situation, and every decision made. Every new action can change the course of history.

But if you’re holding out on a timeline where there is an Alyssa Long, you’ll die a miserable man.

But if you have so much woe for the almighty poon, I hear Tarah Nova is single. :you:

If it’s all the same to you, I don’t mind putting another tally in your reasons to hate the Wakefield’s while none of them even spare you a passing thought. I’ll give you some of that attention you’ve been so desperately craving. While you’re at it, maybe we can search together for an alternative history, where you’re not just some main event choke artist. Or we can do one better! We can put a thin toothed comb through every possible future, and find one where you’re not some sniveling bitch at the end of someone else’s leash? Infinite possibilities, Jason — you never know, we might find that elite few. And while I’d love to personally embark on that Bill and Teds Excellent Adventure, I believe you’d only bring down the mood looking at me and seeing the genetics that made me, lamenting how it should have been you! :dolph: if there was any possibility that I would her to look down my family history and see you as the person that sired me over generations, I’d travel back in time just to commit suicide by kicking you in the balls until I ceased existing. I think I speak for any version of me. Your aspirations of a pure Irish bloodline have long since gone the way of the dodo. But I think we’re getting a little too focused on the vagina that got away and the life you wish you had instead. Let’s talk about the new lease on life you’ve got; cupping the balls for new masters. You really do believe you are the hero people wanted. Were your convictions so weak that you became the villain in your own little book of break ups? When they didn’t lord you, didn’t give you your flowers, and you expect anyone to give a flying fuck about your real purpose. You, the backwash of five years that came from a revolving door of talent, thought you could lead anyone to your vision with one foot already perpetually out the door? Jason, we know why you’re bitter at the world — the same reason you’ll be bitter at the existence of my bloodline long after you’re dead and buried.

You talked far big a game than your convictions could carry.

Anyone who wanted to see you ascend, only watched you fail.

No outcome will justify anyone’s faith in you.

If you were immortal, Jason; you’d be yearning for a method to kill yourself.

And this Tribunal is just another example of that. Just as anyone else invested their stock into your run as world champion, how much do you think they’ll lose if that repeats itself? Why would they poor all their aspirations onto the sinking ship after it had already hit the iceberg? Desperation makes a funny thing out of people, that’s for sure. They’ll bet the house on green on the slimmest of odds in hopes to a payoff, and that’s not something you deliver outside of the Spartans Championship realm. So, unless they’re hoping you can add that to their trophy case, in the slim odds you could beat Noah Krieger on your best day and his worst, I fear they might be brought to devastation before they even got things really going. Unless your entire purpose was to somehow catfish Aria into the mix — in which case, you may have served a purpose after all. Luring in the favor of a woman looking to relive the glory — and I use that word with the utmost sarcasm — days of SSW. A female Stark, I would even say. Really just going through the motions and living vicariously through the embodiment of your failures, aren’t you? Instead of conquering the things that have stood in your way, just double down on what has hindered all semblance of forward progress. Though, there isn't doubt in my mind we're treated to that lather, rinse, repeat of hearing how you're a king, a threat, still on the rise in spite of every failure that befell you.

Perhaps you're too lost among your fragmented personas.

You're not the Jason Long of Project: Honor thriving among the racists and sex pests.

You're not the Jason Long of ALPHA swimming in a shallow talent pool.

You're not even the Jason Long of owning IPW that gets to feel like the big boss in charge of everything.

You're the Jason Long of drowning among the sharks in OWA.

You've lost favor. Longevity has taken you as far as it can carry deadweight. You've peaked and while the whispers in your ear that you've still got something to prove, of course you do — but will you? Now that you've tasted the land of milk and honey, do you have anything more than a craving for it? I don't think you do. I think your silence until now is evident of that. Effort is a reluctant thing to obtain from you. I mean all you had to speak about last time was theories of time travel and your insesnt want of getting into pants that don't feel a thing for you. Why do you expect others to say more about you — sound like broken records, as you put it — when everything you are is so surface level, digging deeper is a wasted effort. Maybe its why you don't get second looks, you carry every weakness on your sleeve. A reliable weakness doesn't require original snark when what you present doesn't require originality to exploit. Why reinvent the wheel for something that has already gone off the tracks into obscurity? Why reintroduce fire to a neanderthal that burns themselves when exposed to it? I have had every opponent remark "haha you're a Wakefield" and the only difference between your retardation and theirs is the desire to stick your dick where it doesn't belong — and even Chad kept it within the realm of possibility. If you're so dictated by your hormones, I'm about to help you through that puberty you're going through. I'm going to help you silence those personal demons that torment you, by putting to bed your concerns that a Wakefield will only ever take from you. Because expecting anything else is drawing blood from a stone. There's no point being afraid of the inevitable, Jason. You really want to uncover the secrets on what my ancestors get up to behind closed doors? You really think it makes any change whatsoever? I'd suggest only that before this girlfriend gets sick of your bum ass and leaves you like all the others, keep her under lock and key. Cause you won't be holding your head high with Foggy Dew blaring when a win Sunday tips over the dominos that put your life right back into perspective, and the only new lease in your life will be another Wakefield moving in on your bitch.

And if that moment brings you to the height of rage-fueled ecstasy, not judgment from me.

Wouldn't be your first masturbation over your shameful moments, won't be your last.

Just try not to tell my name out too loud when you do it.

But from the vagina that brings you to tears to the one attempting to bring you back to prominence, Aria; what possible end game can be worth associating with with the ridicule and trying to be the least successful version of yourself? I know the stretch marks and the crows feet setting in can make one desire a taste of their youthful foolishness, but your end game is looking more like a cry for help. What's next on the agenda? Digging up Gronk? Revive the whole Phantom Troupe for another run? Maybe even bankroll the umpteenth SSW revival so you can rub elbows with career cum stains on the bed sheets like John Doe? Might be an indication that the whole Queens of Wrestling run was acceptance that your prime was so far in the rearview mirror, and now what we're looking at is leeching on whatever is left. Your reputation, despite once heavily priding your impact on the young female demographic, is clearly no longer something you value and that's nothing of interest to me. The flowers this company has given you have withered and died and it's evident your interest isn't being gifted a new bouquet. Grand Slam. Hall of Fame.

Is the end game just to stonewall with your accolades?

Is it just to keep your name in the conversations it was dying out of?

Or have you just achieved everything and have grown tired of the medicoity outside of the lights?

It's all about winning at any cost, but you're one of the few people that poke their head back through the door after they've left that has something to lose. No one really gives a shit when a Tarah Nova, Brian Daniels, or a Nas come back for one more stint because what they've accomplished in the past is only a testament to the zombie of a career they're trying to revive. But you? You're trying to serve L's on silver platters when when every L knocks some of that diamond encrusted shine off the crown. You may not have regrets or are second guessing this new direction, this reaffirmed stance that you're as good as you've ever been — but after a collection of losses will you feel the same? Will that stay the same if you've only brought yourself back to enter another rut? When this return to the rebellious phase that has been overshadowed by far bigger problems than the one you presented at the beginning of OWA yields less than desirable results? Because if the goal was to water down that career by providing some charity results, you're pretty par for the course jumping onto the black hole of a hype train that Jason Long conducts. Contrary to your belief, you do sound like a woman with regrets. You don't put yourself back into the crossfires of what goes on here if there isn't some chip on your shoulders, something to prove, something weighing heavy on the conscious. I hear the desire to silence the tongues of the competition as regret they have something to say against you. Or that your golden watch run could be described as that happy to be here, a feeding of the legacy of others — feasting on your name.

Well, I see nothing that has changed.

A return to an old coat of paint on an old ride.

And I'm looking to ride that legacy so hard it'll make the husband jealous.

And we happen to be in the most romantic city in the world for the sin to flow. Where the wanton pure to be defiled as the chips fall. And for yourself and Jason, you're gambling every bit of hype and credibility this new union has right from the start. Pushing all the chips forward, making promises on bold bets of the skill you collectively posses — on this partnership, on the potential of this Tribunal. What is the next course of action when this big bet results in a walk of shame down the Las Vegas Strip? Because I promise you, you're going to have to do whatever it takes to win, because I'm more than happy to have you return to your masters with nothing left but the clothes on your back. You've come to collect but I hate to break it to you, love; I'm the guy that has everything to gain and nothing to lose. I wasn't set back with a meaningless loss on Jason's wave to nowhere momentum, I'm collecting on foolish high rollers with nothing but bluffs written on their faces.

I've got nothing but a soul to be collected, and I like my hand.

And unlike Jason's that is spent in a nightly pity wank,

It's going to be raised in victory."

Aria Jaxon, Alyssa Grace, Darkane, 'Don' Hendrix, DT The Ruler, Lazarus Arjen and Felix Hartley have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Aria Jaxon
Re: OWA Promos
Post July 28th 2023, 11:43 pm by Aria Jaxon
FEAR & LOATHING. | LAS VEGAS, NEVADA.

The motif of the recurring dream remained, but the content was different. Very different.

For months, as Aria stumbled through her return in March, she couldn’t help but feel as if the universe was trying to tell her something. She kept having these run-ins with a past version of herself who, while being at her professional peak, kept trying to assure the Aria of the present day that she was the one who had truly attained happiness and a well-rounded existence. On one hand, she was inclined to agree. She loved the life that she and Aren had built for themselves. They had worked very hard to ensure that their daughter would never want for anything. Life was perfect – until she got the itch again.

Wrestling was a harder addiction than any pill or drink. At least if you went to rehab for the purpose of wanting to kick a drug habit, you had the knowledge that learning to live without your vice would drastically improve your life. In the case of wrestling, well, it had made Aria’s life what it was. Without it, she’d never have met her husband. She’d never have reconnected with Stephanie. She wouldn’t have a mansion in Beverly Hills with a housekeeper and a Range Rover in the driveway. The rush she’d gotten from being the best at what she’d done – and the material benefits that came with it – the force with which they’d come biting at the back of her brain had been too much to ignore. She caved. She needed her fix.

And just like any relapsing addict, she expected the sweet feeling of her drug of choice to be just as wonderful as she remembered. At first, it was. Then, when she realized that the OWA of now was not the one she’d left behind, she’d put two and two together and realized that it was time to start doing things a bit differently.

That brought her here, to this black dreamscape where she sat across a small, circular table from a version of herself with long purple hair. A wicked grin stretched across the glossed lips of 2018 Aria, a cropped heather gray SSW logo t-shirt wrinkling around her taut midsection as she leaned across the table. Her dark brown eyes gleamed in the most evil way. “So…do you feel better now?”

Present Aria leaned back against her chair and brushed a flame-dyed lock of hair from her face. She thought for a moment before speaking. “I felt better immediately. As soon as I started stomping out that dusty cockroach, it was like instant gratification. I could’ve left it at that. I could’ve chalked it up to that being an out-of-the-ordinary moment for me.” She scoffed. “I heard what the commentators said when I watched the Clash later on. They kept harping on how I was just so disappointed in myself. How I’d just…”

“Snapped?” old Aria chimed in eagerly.

Current Aria shrugged. “To snap makes it sound like it was all about that moment. Like I momentarily lost control and I’d go back to being the way I was when it was all over. There’s no reverting. That wasn’t a lapse in judgment. It was the beginning of something beautiful…even if nobody else seems to agree.”

Old Aria laughed. “Jason Long agrees.”

Aria leaned forward and rested her chin in her hands. She was almost nose-to-nose with her old self. “Yeah. He and I have something important to do.”

“What, you mean win?” old Aria chuckled. “Don’t worry, you’ve remembered how to do that. Matter of fact, you’ve done it decisively. This will be cake for y’all. Those young boys are nothing compared to you, you hear me? Nothing.”

Aria nodded slowly, taking in the words of her past self and really letting them set into her mind. A smirk slowly creased her expression. “This is the final step in my transformation. A stage like Burning Sky is perfect for reminding people just who the fuck I am and what I’m capable of.”


***

I couldn’t think of a more fitting place to be on this particular night.

Krieger and Wakefield keep harping on what a mistake it is that I’m aligning with Jason and trusting him. Like a broken record, all I’ve heard is that I’m bound to end up wondering why I ever put my trust in him. Those weaklings will call it a Vegas gamble that I’m bound to lose. I prefer to view it as betting on myself. I’m doubling down, and it’s gonna pay dividends.

At the risk of sounding cliche, Noah, it must be said – I never sold out. I bought in.

I bought into my own hype. I remembered who I was. More than that, I remembered what was at stake. The result of losing a bunch of matches is much worse than ending up with a bruised ego. The possibility of my career up to this point being eclipsed by a losing streak was almost more than I could bear. I’m the one who returned. I threw myself back in the fire. My responsibility is to build upon whatever I left behind, not keep trying to compete as a shell of my former self. Personality changes do not constitute stains. You know the cool thing about win-loss records? They don’t take into account how you did it. There’s no special column off to the side to talk about sportsmanship or who was the nicest. When you read all that shit back on paper, it’s straightforward – on any given night, someone wins and some other poor schmuck loses. So regardless of how I’m righting my ship, correcting my momentum, padding my record, and protecting my legacy, making enemies of Catch HOUND along the way will ultimately amount to little more than just fluff. As it stands now, you’re our opponents, Noah and Arthur, but in forty-eightish hours, you’ll be relegated to names on a record. Statistics etched onto paper as losers. But hey, I’m sure there are some weirdos somewhere who would consider that an honor! Spots as supporting characters on Aria Jaxon’s journey back to greatness? I’m sure there are worse gigs.

That’s what I’m concerned with – recapturing the magic that made me a titan of this industry. It’s got nothing to do with attention. That’s the weakest, most see-through motive of all, and it’s reserved for no-talent nobodies who couldn’t wrestle their way out of a paper bag. Although let’s be honest…the attention is just a side dish that comes along with being the best, and the attention comes whether people fuck with your methods or not. As a matter of fact, Arthur, I think it’s almost fair to say the attention comes flooding in more when people claim they’re disappointed in me. I’ve got more eyes on me now than I’ve had in quite some time, and it’s all because people are hanging on my every word and pondering the hows and why’s of my recent change of pace. I’m not the first person on this roster to have such an epiphany, and I know I won’t be the last. I’ve been left with no choice but to roll my sleeves up and dig myself out of the rut that I’d gotten myself into – at any cost. And again, with my legacy at stake, with people like you and your buddy saying “Yeah, you’re a legend, BUTall because you don’t like how a bitch gets down nowadays reminds me that failure is not an option. Unlike your ancestor, I actually had a peak to fall from, and therein lies the risk. I left on my own terms, not after a sudden title vacancy shrouded in controversy only to randomly show back up months later. At this point, I’m not only trying to protect my legacy, I’m trying to encase it in Teflon. I want it to be so bulletproof that no fuckboy can come at me and mention my lauded career in the same breath as something as trivial as…me being mean to them. I wanna be fucking Candyman by the time this shit is over. I want niggas afraid to even talk about me, for fear that I might just POOF – pop up and kick their jaw into the next zip code over.

But…one thing at a time.

Believe it or not, I came back to wrestling because I love this stupid ass circus sport. Is it a weakness to admit that? No. This shit doesn’t owe me anything. I’m taking it by force, regardless of how much of a fight y’all think you’re capable of putting up. That’s what it’s about for you, right, Noah? The knowledge of a job well done? Knowing that you put up a great fight and showcased to the world how much you and your partner just love what you do?

Don’t make me laugh.

If you’re smart, your love for wrestling won’t be unconditional. As I said, it owes you nothing, and if you’re too pussy to grab it by the throat and take what you want from it, a bitch like me will always be waiting in the wings to take your lunch money and do what you can’t. Wrestling is a greedy bitch. It takes and takes and takes – miles on the road, injuries wracking your body, money spent on gear, hours in the gym, it goes on and on. The smart ones among us do what they must in order to see a return on their investment, especially if it means bulldozing through bright-eyed, bushy-tailed altruists like you. You’re so busy fighting for truth, justice, and the American way that you’ve forgotten what this shit is really about – winning. However you feel about Jason and I – and trust me, I can see that there are a lot of feelings – I don’t truly believe you’ll be able to put all of that in the back of your head when it’s time to get down to business. I don’t think that, when that bell rings, all of these emotions of yours that have bubbled up to the surface will do you any good. Do you believe all these negative feelings are a fire under your ass? I say they’re an anchor tied to your neck – and I’ll personally be the one to pull you beneath the waves.

On the subject of beef, any that I ever had with Jason is squashed. Times change, people change, but there’s one thing that never does. Real recognizes real – talent, that is. Jason Long is a first-ballot Hall of Famer. He’s one of the only people in this company that I can truthfully say even belongs in the same conversation as me if the convo being had is one about accolades. He’s been a world champion, something you two peons have turned into a talking point without pointing out the obvious – neither of y’all has done that! Short championship reigns are always fodder for an opponent, I guess, but it’s kind of hollow for y’all to talk shit about a journey up the mountain that you’ve never made. That is the thing that links us together as far as you’re concerned, right? Two people who are so desperate to reinsert themselves into the GOAT conversation that they’d start slumming it with strange bedfellows?

Oh, babies, we were never out of the conversation to begin with!

We are two of the greatest this company has ever seen by any metric – gold held, headliners competed in, tournaments and battle royals conquered, whatever fucking means used to shift the goalpost, we check out every time. And I’m meant to believe that the flavors of the moment, the defenders of the future, are supposed to be able to tear all of that down based on their belief that we’re doomed to fail? Never that. You’re punching way above your pay grade here. You’re dealing with talent beyond anything you can fathom and power beyond your wildest dreams.

The writing is already on the walls. Now watch as they close in on you.

Mav., Alyssa Grace, 'Don' Hendrix, DT The Ruler and Lazarus Arjen have spoken. It’s such good shit!

kennydrake
Re: OWA Promos
Post July 28th 2023, 11:25 pm by kennydrake
5:00 AM on THURSDAY


The icy waters lay still. The sun peeks out over the mountains nearby, casting a bright orange hue over the fjord, almost as if engulfing it in the fires of the sun itself. Random ripples form, giving life to otherwise dead water. 


Hear Me, Odinn


All-father of the Gods


Summon the shadows of ages past


When the thread spinning Norns ruled the fates of Men


A lone row boat sits on the glass-like water, gently rocking in the breeze. A raven sits on the bow. 


Hear of a Heathen…taking aim at a King…hear of a feeble doe…attacking a wolf…


The sky goes black. A large cloud quickly covers the rising sun, and the fjord is soon covered in sheets of rain. The raven doesn’t move. 


Hear of a King, blessed in the blood of his victims…his throne, built of the bones of his challengers.


A King destined for Valhöll


Hear Me. 


And Witness the King. 


The stillness is broken, as a man emerges from the water like a titan. The water sprays like liquid fireworks as the man roars in silence. 


He is the Wolf God… The Bad Seed…


He is Kenny Drake. 


Hear Me.


====+=====+====+====+===D===I===E====+====+=====+=====+======+=====+===


I am going to…have to address something…before I start, Mr. Striker. 


I…DO. NOT. Give a FUCK. What happened. In Wrestleworld. I do not give a FUCK…what happened in SWWS. I do not give a FLYING…FUCK…what happens outside of the walls of this Kingdom…because Kenny Drake is not THERE, and frankly? Your fed ain’t SHIT unless it’s got Kenny in it. Anything you said about Banch, or Halvorsen, or anybody else? It means jack shit to me. It means…NOTHING. THEY…are not HERE. THEY…cannot HANG HERE. THIS…The OWA…KINGDOM…Is the PINNACLE of professional wrestling, and if you are not FIGHTING in this Kingdom? I don’t give a FUCK about you. So you can take your Banch and Halvorsen bullshit? And shove it up your dick hole. Might remind you of your dad. 


Now…with that off my chest…


Hiiiiii. 


You have said a loooooot of words, Jacob, but they all fell so, so short…it’s CLEAR…CRYSTAL clear…you don’t know who I am. You seem to think…heh…that YOU…of ALL people…are in a position of power over me. You…YOU! YOU said…you tried to give ME a fighting chance? I went into business FOR MYSELF?


Who…in the ever loving, holy hell, sonofabitching FUCK do you think you are?


Who the FUCK do you think you’re talking to, boy?


You seem to have forgotten the HISTORY of this incredible company, so let me give you a crash course. MY NAME…is KENNY DRAKE. I am a HALL OF FAMER. I AM A WORLD CHAMPION. I am the GOD of the Deathmatch…I…am one of the PILLARS of this fucking company, and YOU? 


Who the fuck are YOU?


I confuse you with Noah Krieger ALL the time, kid. What the fuck have you done? 


And remember…I mean HERE. Where the BEST in the world wrestle. 


Oh yeah…nothing. 


You. Have done. Nothing. 


How sad. 


You are more forgettable than a beige suitcase. Your matches? Are piss breaks for the camera crew. Your promos? Your segments? I don’t even know if you have any, cos who the fuck wants to see ‘em? What could you possibly say that hasn’t been said better by Allyah Landerson? 


And you think…I’M the one who should be nervous here?


See…what’s funny to me? Is that…to YOU…this is personal. A matter of the heart that demands to be rectified. You can’t move forward until you right this wrong. It eats at you. It’s KILLING you from the inside…you HAVE to beat me. You HAVE to make this right. The BIGGEST MATCH of your disappointing career. It ALL comes to a head at Burning Sky. THIS. THIS is your chance. YOUR ONE MOMENT LEFT. I, Kenny Drake, have a PERSONAL, DEEP ROOTED VENDETTA AGAINST YOU, THE GREAT JACOB KNIGH-i’m sorry…JACOB STRIKER.


But to me?...It’s not personal…it’s not even business…


It’s…Sunday. 


And…THAT’S the difference between you and I, Jacob. 


Moments like this? They don’t come around for you very often. And why should they? You’ve proven time and time again, you’re in the kiddy pool with El Landerson and his family while the rest of us swim with sharks DAILY. You’re getting your first real taste of the main event, and God FORBID you fuck it up like you’ve done with every other opportunity. THIS is where you are able to FINALLY prove that you’re worth our time. This…This is like when a kid gets to fly FIRST CLASS for the FIRST TIME to go see Grandma! This is a BIG moment for you, slugger!


But for me? This is nothing new. This is…a walk to the corner store. This is changing my kid’s diapers. This is…


A match… with Jacob Striker. 


“The Devils Favorite Dirty”...


Fuck…


That’s dumb.


Dirty what? His favorite dirty girl? Favorite dirty little slut? What the fuck are you saying with that? “The Devil’s Favorite Dirty” for the love of fuck, Jacob…THINK. USE your HEAD. Don’t just come up with something and say “DID IT!” Fucking think about it!


That’s ANOTHER difference between us, Jacob. Unlike you, I didn’t bestow myself with nicknames. I didn’t CLAIM myself to be anything. No, I let my ENEMIES do that. You know why I’m the Saint of Killers? 


Because I’m the person that psychopaths PRAY to. I was GIVEN that name, because I am ABOVE EVERY OTHER PSYCHOPATH ON THIS ROSTER. I am the PROTOTYPE for VIOLENCE in this company. Barbed wire fuckery? Razor blades? Fucking literal SALT in wounds? STABBINGS? DEATH?! Do you think ANY of that would be possible here without ME paving the way? No, this place would be just like every other fucking fed out there. It would be a SAFE place, with hammerlocks and wrist locks, and it would be a place where YOU would BLEND IN. Just another guy. Just another dude with a chip on his shoulder for no fuckin’ reason. The way YOU fight? It’s rudimentary. It’s basic. It’s hip tosses and headlocks. It’s NOTHING. It’s…Striker at his best. 


But the way I fight?


The police get called, boy. 


Now, I just have to ask…Do you have ANY idea, Striker, what you are getting yourself into? You are stepping into a match with a HALL of FAME SERIAL KILLER. You are stepping into the ring…in a DEN RULES match…against the man that RULES the Den itself…I WROTE the SCRIPTURE of VIOLENCE, INKED in BLOOD, that became the RULES for this fucking match. This match? It IS ME…this match IS KENNY FUCKING DRAKE…and you have the god damn NERVE to say that I should fear you? That I should be shaking at the thought of having to face the Forgotten Pauper in a match borne of my blood, sweat, and tears? I don’t know if you were around, but I made this place FAMOUS because of the blood I shed. I have been to the top of the fucking mountain, making it look like the Trail of DEATH on Mt. Everest, leaving dead bodies in my wake, and through all of it…what the fuck were YOU doing? 


Nothing of worth to talk about.  You? Jacob Striker? Are nothing more than fodder for the people of this company. You call yourself the Devil’s Favorite Dirty? You’re the Devil’s BOTTOM bitch. You’re his BEST Ho, because every god damn WEEK, you are PASSED AROUND this Kingdom, getting your ass HANDED TO YOU and taking LOSS after LOSS after LOSS. He sells your ass to the highest bidder for a fucking easy win, boy…and you are BUILT to suffer for our pleasure. 


By the way? I know the Devil…I fucking KILLED him, remember? He works for me. And kid?


He’s just not that into you…


But then again, Jacob…who is? Do you…HAVE fans? Do you even have HATERS? Are you relevant enough to have people dislike you? Are you…worth thinking about at all?


I mean…in your quest to seem edgy and cool, you both alienated yourself from the fans, AND proved you’re a hypocrite. You mock the internet fandom - which is SUCH a low bar, even for you - for using “insider” terms…and then you declare I “booked” us in a “gimmick” match instead of a “pure rules” match…which is ALSO a gimmick match, BY THE WAY…


Frankly, Jacob? I’m doing EVERYBODY a favor on Sunday…I’m going to RUIN you. I’m doing the FANS a favor, so that they don’t have to sit through ANOTHER pointless Striker segment…I’m doing the PRODUCTION crew a favor, so they don’t have to sit through dead air while you talk…I’m even doing your MOTHER a favor, boy…by sending you back to her open, waiting arms, so she can hold you tight and say, “don’t worry, boy…you’re with mama again. The big, bad man won’t hurt you anymore.” 


But most importantly, Jacob…I’m doing you a favor. 


I’m ENDING this charade. I’m ENDING this little Shutter Island experiment we’re doing here with you…this…grandiose production to make you feel like a big tough wrestler man. This Sunday, you go up the stairs of that fucking lighthouse, and you face the REALITY that YOU…are living a LIE. YOU are not a wrestler. YOU are not a tough guy. YOU, Jacob Striker, are NOTHING. You are a BOY, LOST and wandering through the middle of a WAR where MEN and WARRIORS are fighting for their lives. You are a CHILD with a wooden sword going up against a BERSERKER. 


And this Sunday? It won’t just be the Sky that burns. 


No. 


I will leave nothing but SCORCHED EARTH in my wake…I will leave your carcass SMOLDERING in the ashes. You will CRUMBLE and turn to DUST at my feet, and just like that…just like the very wind that carries your body away, your name will be forgotten. Gone into the ether of the air. 


You, Jacob? Will not survive this encounter. 


Because where I come from? Dumb motherfuckers like you are hung, drawn, and quartered…put on display for everyone to see…


Which is much, much cooler…than burying poops in unmarked graves. 


Seriously, Jacob…you can’t think you sound intimidating. Your dad shoved irons up peoples asses? Wha? You’re a dirty boy for the devil? You bury poops next to people in unmarked graves? You’re sitting at the bottom of the deep end? Ok…I’ll just LET you drown, then. I HOPE you meet me out there, kid! I HOPE you put on your big boy floaties and swim out to Uncle Kenny in the deep end of the pool! C’mon, kid! You can do it!


Because if you DON’T?


I’m going to DRAG you out there…I’m going to PULL you underwater…I am going to HOLD your nose shut and MAKE YOU breath in deep…I am the shark, and YOU need a bigger fucking boat.


Let me just…stop talking to you…and address Stephanie Matsuda real quick. 


Steph? I mean no disrespect to you with what I say next. 


Jacob? 


You being the top graduate of the War Room Dojo? Isn’t the “flex” you think it is.
In FACT? It does the gym a disservice. If YOU are the TOP graduate…the FACE of the school…the PINNACLE of the program…the EPITOME of what can be accomplished by signing up…


Then it is NOT worth the price. 


You honestly think you can compare ME to GRAHAM BAKER? The bullshit pud pulling contest you and him were in PALE in comparison to the THROWAWAY matches I’ve been in. You want me to ask Graham Baker how tough you are? Great. YOU go ask Aria Jaxon how fucking EVIL I AM. You go ask SCOTT OASIS how VIOLENT I can be. YOU GO ASK MICHAEL BISHOP, JEFF X, NATE CAGE, AND JD DAMON…HOW COLD AND SADISTIC I TRULY AM. I have ended CAREERS with a fucking PHONE CALL to my followers, and I have straight up MURDERED to get my hand raised in that ring. The only people that have BEATEN ME? Have had to fucking almost KILL ME to do it. The people that have beaten you? Just had to hit a few fucking stiff forearms. 


How about THIS, Jacob…if you love the Seventh Ward, and Olympus so much? Why don’t I make this your FINAL night on Kingdom. When I’m done with you at Burning Sky…there will be no place left on the black and gold for someone as useless as you. You can go over to Olympus and serve my main man Darkane and Laz and go get them beers when they want you to. You can start fresh over there, Jacob…cos no one will remember what you did over here, and no one will care. It’s like going to a new high school. You can reinvent yourself, change your look, maybe even come up with a less shitty nickname. 


Because your shit is played out here, kid. Your schtick is tired. The only thing about you that isn’t washed is your greasy fuckin’ hair. NOBODY is buying your tired bullshit about how tough you are, because the proof is in the fuckin’ pudding. All we have to do is search you on the Network, and we know that you’re full of shit. I can’t…remember…the last time you even had a MATCH, let alone when you won…


But don’t worry, little guy. It will all be over soon. Sunday. You will step into that ring…and you will be carried out. 


And all of this will happen…because you got all pissy. 


You need this, boy. 


You needed this from your shitty father ever since you were a dumb, rock eating child. 


You need to be taught that there are LEVELS to life. There are TIERS of people, and YOU…Jacob Striker…are a BOTTOM. TIER. Person. Your daddy might have not cared enough about you to teach you, but I’ll be your daddy on Sunday. I’ll teach you a lesson in humility. 


It’s not enough to beat you, Jacob…


It’s not even enough to cripple you…


No…I’m going to EMBARRASS you…I am going to make your loved ones HANG their HEADS in SHAME for knowing you, and not just at the dinner table when you’re not around. I am going to make the doctor that spanked you awake at birth REGRET EVERY DECISION that led him to that point. 


I am going to make you leave. 


Because you won’t be able to stand the sight of yourSELF when I’m done with you. 


MIRRORS will haunt you. REFLECTIONS will fill you with rage. I will make you FEAR your own image because of the pain it brings you. You will be filled with SHAME just KNOWING you exist every day, and every single god damn day, you will ask yourself…in a hushed tone, between sobs…


“Why…Why did I mess with Kenny Drake?”


It’s because you don’t know any better. 


You’re just Jacob Striker, after all. 



So…with that being said…you are right about ONE thing. 


The hall is set…the Orchestra is engaged. 


And I have the PERFECT song for us to dance to. 


It’s called


Wolves…


Aeternum.

Aria Jaxon, J.D. Damon, Mav., Alyssa Grace, 'Don' Hendrix and DT The Ruler have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Tyler Kulina
Re: OWA Promos
Post July 28th 2023, 10:35 pm by Tyler Kulina
Burning Sky Promo #1

“Nothing Lasts Forever”




Post Kingdom, later that night.

Tyler marched out of the arena in his civilian clothes with his gym bag slung over his shoulder while pulling his luggage. Cassie Wu was doing her best to keep up as she looked concerned for her boyfriend.  

Cassie Wu: Ty! Wait up!

Tyler slowed his pace a bit and turned his head.

Tyler Kulina: Sorry, Cass. I just want to hurry to the hotel so I can drop this off and we can enjoy the night.

Cassie Wu: Are you sure that’s it!? Because it feels like after that title match between you and Sena was decided you wanted to be anywhere but here!

Tyler stopped in his steps as he turned to Cassie.

Tyler Kulina: Of course, I want to be anywhere but here! The moment Sena decided to face me he became an opp. We’ll see where we stand once this match is over, but right now I need to keep my distance from him and Emmy so I can focus. But right now, babe, I just want to celebrate my successful title retention.

Tyler waited for a black van to pull up that was going to take him and Cassie back to the Sheraton he was staying at. Every champion in OWA had their hotel bookings fully comped by the company. Cassie nodded a little, understanding where Ty was coming from. 

Cassie Wu: Listen…I’m happy for you, babe. I am. But, you can’t let success get to your head. Sena and Emmanuelle have been on your side since the beginning.

Tyler Kulina: (sighs) You don’t think I know that!?   I’ve done everything in my power to fight for Dojo Bros. I’ve sprint hours training under Emmanuelle and have done everything she’s asked for me. And you know what? It didn’t get me far. But once I went my own way, met up with Abholos, and trained under Matsuda, things have been going my way. Not only did I put on a good performance in The Clash, but it earned me this Outlaw Championship and the respect of my peers. I got Jeff X and Nasir Moore watching my back! How crazy is that!? Why can’t they be happy for me!?

Cassie Wu: I’m sure they are, babe. They just don’t want anything bad to happen to you. Things can turn on their head quickly. 

Tyler Kulina: I’ll be fine, for now. I just have to show Sena who the better Dojo Bro is, and he’ll have to respect my gangsta. I didn’t want things to come to this Cass, I really didn’t. But we’re just weeks away from Final Destination, and the end of my rookie season. I WANT to defend the belt there. After some of the shit I’ve been through, ending the season leading the Outlaw Division is one hell of a way to show that I’m here to stay.

Cassie nodded, as she understood exactly where her significant other was coming from. Tyler was a man on a mission and she was willing to be by his side for the ride. She quietly leaned against him as the ride to the hotel remained a quiet one.

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

“When I first stepped into OWA, I didn’t think I was going to make any friends. Not because I’m not the social type, but because I came here for one clear purpose. I wanted to find the man who allegedly is my father. A year has passed and I have a feeling about who it might be. But, a lot of things have changed since then. I was taken in by Emmanuelle, met Sena, and created a dynamic duo that was about more than just chasing tag belts. I made a friend - two in fact, and eventually, I met someone. I had a life filled with colleagues, peers, and friends. I became financially stable enough to buy my mother a house. I can look after my siblings and ensure they don’t walk down the same road I did. I roamed the streets out of survival, and now I do the same in the ring.”

“Taguchi Sena, even now I still consider you to be like a brother to me. We stood back to back fighting against the likes of For the Minorities and Seventh Ward. No matter how often we fell, we got back on our feet and fought harder each time. Brothers look out for each other, Sena. But when Wolvesden was jumping me the other week, where were you? Where was Emmy!? You’ll claim you were on the other side of the arena, but if you knew that I had a match against Nate Cage - someone who was already up to his old tricks with JD Damon and Kenny Drake wouldn’t it have dawned on you to come through and look out!? Come on, man! I thought better of this, I thought better of you! Then again, ever since I won this belt, your whole mood changed. I don’t know if it’s jealousy or what, nor am I gonna guess because I’m not you, fam. I don’t speak for you. The only thing I can confirm is how the vibe changed, your whole demeanor is speaking a different language. Your words don’t match your actions bruh. Matter of fact, instead of worrying about me, you should be looking after your own career. You came into the business with so much promise, but like a lot of Japanese guys outside of Arata Asakura, you got lost in the shuffle once you journeyed west. If you want to be my equal and stand back to back with your Dojo Bro then you’ll meet me in that ring and show me everything. Show me the fruits of your labor, Sena! If you can’t do that, then there’s nothing either of us can say or do to improve this partnership for I have proven that I’m leagues ahead of you. I’ve taken Abholos’ gift seriously. I’ve practiced Matsuda’s meditative lessons and took them to heart!  I’ve invested in my own development, and it’s paying dividends at the moment!”

Tyler sighs and shakes his head. 

“I never asked you this question Sen, but did you always want to do this? I didn’t watch wrestling much in my teen years but as a kid? It was NMW and EWC for me.  I never said I wanted to be a wrestler but I enjoyed what I saw. After a while, I was just focused on taking care of Mom and the sibs. But alas, here we are. Two brothers-in-arms about to go to war. Whatever happens next, is what happens. The sad thing is that Emmy is the one that will have to watch it all unfold and make that ”

--------

Tyler finished addressing Sena on the livestream and logged off. He sighed and sat back in his seat. It was a week and a half after KIngdom. Ty had to prepare for his title match. At the moment, he was relaxing in his hotel room. As he sat back and sighed, there was a knock at the door. When he opened it, he was surprised to see Edward Softly, also known as Abholos stood at the doorway with a smile on his pleasant face.

Edward Softly: Hello There, Ty.

Tyler Kulina: What’s up?

Edward gave a casual shrug, as if nothing was of concern at the moment.

Edward Softly: Nothing, really. I just wanted to speak to you for a bit, see where you’re head’s at right now.

Tyler raised an eyebrow, wondering where Edward was getting at.

Tyler Kulina: What’s going on? 

Edward Softly: Invite me in and we can have a little chat.

Tyler simply shrugged as he took a step back and let the former demon lord inside. Edward walked inside and took a seat at a table as Tyler sat at the edge of his bed.

Edward Softly: You seem pretty calm for someone who’s about to fight their best friend.

Tyler returned the casual shrug as he stared towards the window, not interested in making eye contact at the moment.

Tyler Kulina: I’ve called Sen a brother that much is true. He’s someone I thought I could rely on, but these days…I don’t know.

Edward strokes his beard, as if he’s deep in thought.

Edward Softly: Explain.

Tyler Kulina: Well after you helped me unlock my true power and Cloud trained me on how to harness it, I feel like I can power through most situations on my own.

Edward Softly: (sighs) I had a feeling you’d be going through this.

Tyler Kulina: (blinks) Going through what?

Edward Softly: Experiencing your first power boost can be exhilarating. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. If you reign in your ability as soon as you can and learn from it, then you’ll last a long time in this business.

Tyler Kulina: What are you trying to get at?

Edward Softly: Just because you’re in conflict with your friends doesn’t mean things have to be this way forever. After you defend that title, try to make peace with Sena and Emmanuelle. Good allies are hard to come by, these people legitimately care about you. It’s only fair that you don’t hold anything against them. When the smoke clears, sit down and talk with them. Try to see where they’re coming from.

Tyler nodded as he considered Edward’s words. This was something to consider. Ty might be in his feelings, but clarity was something to take into consideration. Ty adjusted in his seat a little, trying to figure out how he was going to go about this once the match was over.

Tyler Kulina: When that bell rings, I’m going all out. I’m going to treat Sena like I’d treat any opponent who’s trying to take what’s mine. The universe may come for me, but an Outlaw like yours truly stays ready.

Edward nods several times.

Edward Softly: Every interesting person of note has an origin story. This is yours, Tyler Kulina. I hope you can see what it’ll do for you.

Tyler nodded.

Tyler Kulina: I will. Listen…I love Sen and Emm. But, I have to do what I have to do and that’s just how the dice rolls, you know?

Edward Softly: Very well. Just remember…your power will grow with each battle. There’s a responsibility to be had.

Tyler Kulina: Of course. 

Edward smiles and stands up from the chair.

Edward Softly: That’s all. I wish to not disturb you any further.

Edward smiles and leaves, leaving Tyler to his thoughts.

Aria Jaxon, Alyssa Grace, 'Don' Hendrix and DT The Ruler have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Arata Asakura
Re: OWA Promos
Post July 28th 2023, 10:29 pm by Arata Asakura
OWA Promos 20230216_095628
OWA Promos Tumblr_pfyg6uqaFE1s0zdtdo2_1280


Burning Sky #2: Puppets of Fate.

27.07.2023 Unknown Territory

*Darkness. Ruthless streaks of black covered all the space around. It was just one big mess, so no one or anything was visible even for a moment. Only merciless colors, so overwhelming as if you were walking in the deepest depths of the abyss. Just looking at this sight was unpleasant and confusing. You could get lost forever in the silence and anxiety that this place emanated with. Nevertheless, each of the viewers involuntarily moved their eyes around this mysterious darkness, looking for something that would finally break it. Patience paid off, in the distance you could see a small spark, which was getting brighter with each step. Was it light? Or maybe fire? It didn't take long for the mystery to be solved. The spark that everyone saw came from a traditional lantern held by none other than Arata Asakura. The man was wearing a white T-shirt, light blue jeans and white sports shoes. Even though it was dark, you can see the outline of a silver watch, reflecting the light of the lantern. The face of the Japanese man seems to be filled with fatigue, but mostly full of frustration. Arata finally stops and throws the lantern in front of him, oblivious to the fact that the only source of light may shatter into pieces. The man bites his dry and cracked lip so hard that drops of blood appear on it. Then he sits on the ground with an impact, if that's what you can call the empty space under his feet. The man pulls his legs closer to his chest, still keeping them slightly apart. With one motion of his hand, he runs his fingers through the blonde hair that fell over his forehead. A quiet snort escapes his lips, which is followed by a harsh tone of his voice.*

Failure. It's a word that has never been too often associated with who Arata Asakura is. Even though we all have good and bad moments, this label has never been close to my reputation, which made people forget that I also make mistakes. I'm not proud of it, but there are things I regret. In moments of bitterness like this, I often calculate how much I've fucked up all this things. I come back to what happened a year ago on Clash. I think about the events from FD two years ago. Though I can move even further into the past and stare into the wall with tears running down my face. It's hard to imagine, isn't it? People realize I'm emotional, but I don't show them that crazy often, because I hate feeling sorry for myself. Even though I've been in the industry for the last few years, only few people have seen me crying. Hardly anyone saw me writhing on the floor in grief and despair. Although it is simple human reaction, nobody wants to witness such a pathetic state of mind. Especially when it concerns someone who is supposed to be better than others. After all, wrestlers have never been treated as common human beings. We are supposed to be like a superheroes. Motivated. invincible. Throwing ourselves into danger without hesitation, going for the next adventure. But that's the bullshit you tell your kids all the time. Sure, we are not like casual people when we step into the ring, but we are not puppets who dance for your command. We are humans, who also have to deal with shit tone of feelings that would break many. So why paint this unrealistic picture that is nothing more than a lie. Maybe instead of making a story about all mighty heroes, you should show your kids what humanity is truly about.

Everyone knows I have godly power at my fingertips, even though I choose not to use it. Some probably call me stupid, others even a madman. However, I sincerely believe that this is the only way to gain what I truly care about. The path of peace is the only solution to give me what I dream for. The power I held is incredible and helped me in the war...and everything that happened till then. It let me survive the hell of Earth. So why not to keep preying on that? I could do so much good with its help. Sure, I could change a thing or two. At least, this is what you would see at the beginning, but sooner or later the power that I carry would be too overwhelming for you...too unknown that it would become dangerous. Sooner or later, it would bring nothing by a fear into your hearts and the need to separate yourself from me. It would ruin your perception of me and all my hard work to rebuild the shitty legacy of old Arata would be thrown into a trash can. And this is the last thing I want to see. We don't need to come back to the state anxiety. We don't want to witness a paranoia that has lived within the walls of this company for the last few years. We deserve a peace in which we can develop. We deserve conditions that will allow us to become better people. We don't need power to reach this goal, all we have to do is to release the full potential of what human nature is.

Humanity. That's something we've always had the hardest time with, isn't it, Chris? No one looked at us through this prism because of our connection with some crazy beings, who gave us unimaginable possibilities. Power is always fascinating. It brings confidence. It creates a joy, but you slowly notice that people don't treat you like one of them. The power you carry slowly turn from a blessing into never ending curse. It brings you loneliness that crushes all that joy. And before you realize it, you're engrossed in its ruthless consequences. After all, nothing in life is for free, and we both paid the price for it. I sold my fucking eye and psyche, but you gave a big piece of your life too. You sacrificed yourself to havoc, you knew he would help you to prove many people wrong. He was your trump card to help you jump on the pedestal without the support of people, who never believed in you in the first place. The family that rejected you for following your dream. Havoc felt like a great choice, didn't he? He extended a helping hand to you and gave you the strength to deal with all that shit. However, it didn't take long before your friend turned into your worst nightmare. He ruined your life and then took on your wife as a revenge for trying to get rid of him. He destroyed lives of many, and put blood on your hands and guilt in your heart. And honestly? I don't blame you. Difficult situations require radical solutions. How could you have known it would all end like this? Although it was risky, such decisions are also necessary. Maybe in this case it would be better if you pussied out the moment Havoc reached to you, but you can't undo the past. You have to live with the consequences of your actions, even if it's not all your fault. I've always said you're a victim of this situation too, Chris. Havoc literally depraved you of all the rights, so it'd be stupid to blame you for anything...while you were in comma and he was trying to tear the world apart. And fortunately, many people see it. They can draw the line between Sabertooth and Havoc. But when it comes to me? I don't have that comfort. His face and mine are almost like two drops of water. The only difference is this battle scar on my eye, but people still will tell me a faked it. Although it is much better than before, and I have gained some trust from the environment. I still feel that cold distance, Chris. Even if someone greets me with open arms, he keeps a knife in his pocket to stab me in the back. So as trgic your story is, you are not the only one who struggle. I will say it again. I love you, Chris. You are the friend I couldn't ask for. Loyal, loving and someone who you can always count on. However, despite all this, you have a lot of selfishness in you. You are heavily self-centered when it comes to your business. And it really annoys me that whenever it comes to the OWA World Championship, you're apparently the only one with the right for your redemption arc. You need it more? Nah, you deserve it more, right? But why? We all carry our own cross on our back, don't we? What make you so special, Chris? It is not a fucking competition who has more fucked up life, cause if we go by that itself then you are not even close to me. And I didn't need a traumatic demonic experience for that. I really don't know what you want from me, Chris. You act like you are ready to fight the whole world, but at the same time you are indirectly asking me to step down. Because it's your time to change your life? But who decided that, my friend? I also have my fucking goal. I also need a damn change.  I am not going to wait forever till you get yours, because your ego wouldn't handle it. I'm not going to bargain with you. I care about you a lot, but I am selfish too. I want to get my recognition here. I want to remove that fucking stigma of being considered a pure evil. I am sick and tired of this. And it doesn't matter what people thought of me in my dimension. That world is gone and I am no longer there. I can't live my past life. Why don't you get that? I need to move forward, so stop trying to tell the whole world that I don't deserve it, because I've had some joy in my life. Just like in your case, it was overshadowed by all the shitty stuff.

You tell me to stay out of your way, but I can say the same. We are both competitive and every time we faced each other in the ring, we truly proved it. The aggressive urge to win always gets the better of us and this is no secret. However, the ring is not a place for friendship. Outside we can be best buddies, but between ropes everyone thinks about themselves. So you are right, I didn't give a shit about kicking out Jeff from Clash. Someone had to do that, because as much as Frontline loves to share the spotlight, we couldn't do that. Only one person could stand victorious, and that's exactly the same situation at Burning Sky. I still think we should go with the honorable principle. May the best man win, but I can already tell you that. The OWA Championship is mine.

We both talk a lot about our relationship, but the obvious thing is that it is not only about us. As much as we are confident  that Frontline will take that belt home, we can't forget about the man who holds his hand tight on this strap. DT, you are pretty interesting cases. I already mentioned that. For someone who has no manners, you try to act like you've been pulled out of a savoir vivre commercial. You pretend like you have eloquence and elegance. You try to blind people with all those honorifics to create a prism of respect. While your antics with Raivo have repeatedly shown everyone that you don't respect others i n the slightest. Not only do you think you're better than them, but you and FTM have repeatedly humiliated others for your own enjoyment. Chris might talk about your brotherhood and how strong it's. It is lovely and shit, though I still have some doubts about that. The thing is, when it comes to others, the word "respect" doesn't exist in your vocabulary. Your case has always been difficult to judge for us. Many times we wondered if DT is that bad like the rest of this fucking cunts. Because in a way you seemed to be a little different, or at least up to a point I had the impression that you had some moral principles. However, I quickly realized that it was foolish to think about it this way. After all, it shouldn't matter that you were just standing next to Raivo and Maggall, when they were doing their trash. You are still associated with these people, so you should be paying a price. Even if you didn't spit on people around...even if it wasn't you who directly abused and humiliated others...you still didn't do anything to stop it. You didn't say a word, while Raivo was spitting on Bishop's fucking corps. When his wife and daughter were standing right in front of him. And you call yourself a man? You call yourself a champion? You are nothing more than a coward, DT. You are a disgrace that shouldn't even touch the most prestigious belt in this company. So no wonder me and Chris are the best options for a challengers. Because OWA is literally beginning to dump your dumb ass from the so-called throne.

You're a hypocrite, DT, but mostly someone who preys on other people all the time. You are an opportunist who waits for a good moment to strike. So you did by hanging around with FTM. You just jumped on this hype train or whatever. So you did in the Clash, using the fact that nobody believed you could pull the victory there. However, what amuses me the most, is that you do so little each time, and try to collect all the credit. You finished Stark's story? Excuse me, but I was the one to throw away his ass, when he was still a champ. Sure, you ended up with a belt in the end, but let's be real. You act like it was all done by you, but the truth is...I wrote the whole novel, and you just put a dot at the end and that made you believe you have the rights. It makes you feel like you are the author, but the whole story of Clash belongs to me. I was in this match since number one. I eliminated the biggest number of people. I survived all this hell and you just came when everything was done and ready. I know this is the charm of Clash. Some people start from an uncomfortable spot, that I chose myself. Others don't have to sweat that much. But you could at least have some dignity and admit how it really is. But you always put your narrative and nothing else matters to you. The thing is, you can't expect the whole world to act like you want to. You have the problem with me and I get way too many chances? Well, maybe I do have opportunities, but there is a reason behind it. I am the best wrestler of my generation, DT. In four years and accomplished more than you in the last fifty, you old fuck. I am not going to apologize for being successful, because the likes of you feel underappreciated. I don't care, homie. In the spirit of the Asian family, I can tell you one thing. You suck? Then get fucking better.

*Suddenly you notice little shiny spots in the darkness. It looks as if tiny ropes were coming off Arata's arms and legs. Moments later, a huge hand appears over his head, holding a piece of wood. In the blink of an eye this hand pulls it up, exposing it as just a puppet. That way we move to the office, where the real Arata is standing near his desk and holding the doll in his hands.*

Making history was one thing, but the main reason I chose my spot on Clash was because I don't trust faith. I have found too many times that it can be a nasty bitch. That is why, I always pay attention to being the master of my own fate. I hate the vision of being a puppet in the hands of a stroke of luck and it literally gives me shivers down my spine. So I am the one pulling my strings. I am the one who makes decisions and deals with eventual consequences, but at least I know that I have control over my life. At least I don't regret that I have freedom after being thrown around like a rag doll for most of my life.

I am the man who built my whole legacy by taking everything into my own hands. Me, myself and I are the only reason why I held ten world championships high. And at Burning Sky, I will do it for the eleventh time.

Aria Jaxon, Alyssa Grace, 'Don' Hendrix, DT The Ruler and Lazarus Arjen have spoken. It’s such good shit!

DT The Ruler
Re: OWA Promos
Post July 28th 2023, 9:58 pm by DT The Ruler


Thank you.

OWA Promos Dt_the43

 
Mr. Sabertooth...

...Mr. Asakura...
 

(In the back row of a theater, the Landmark Crest Cinema Center in Shoreline, Washington, DT The Ruler sat, though the theater was packed in the rows closest to the screen. Not much could be made of DT The Ruler as he sat alone in the last row, as the cameraman was filming him with his back turned to them. The other people, however, seemed excited to be there)
 
I’m doing things with family again, this time at a local theater. Pretty small in size, but as long as there’s at least one big screen promising the highest movie quality imaginable, my sister and her children don’t mind. The movie hasn’t started just yet, but since they wanted to see The Haunted Mansion for some reason, on the low, I just bought out the whole theater and let them invite their other friends and their parents to watch with them. I’m a bit distant right now- mainly because I don’t want to see it- but for tonight, before I travel out and finalize preparations for Burning Sky, I just wanted to let them experience a story as a spectator. Sometimes being a spectator to a story is good enough for people. Sometimes, that is the role best for them.

And that’s alright to admit, too. The one thing I don’t want to do is deprive my nieces and nephews the chance to be able to lead a major story if life places them in position to do that. Black People especially have been cut off from many chances to create their own narrative, and it still happens to this day. Many devils say “the victors are the ones to write History,” but many cases you’ll read in History show that some of the victims didn’t even get the chance to hear a declaration of battle, whether it be with a sword or with a tabloid. In some cases, the story is just written by those who scream the loudest.

In the case of my opponents, Mr. Arata Asakura and Mr. Christopher Sabertooth...

(A unknown woman who sat one of her two children down waved towards DT The Ruler’s direction, and he lightly waved back, despite not changing his expression. Her toddler, however, waved to him and made him smile for a moment)

Anyways, in the case of both of my opponents... I should probably start by thanking them. Thank you, Arata and Chris. Thank you. Thank you for pretty much saying everything I expected you to. Especially you, Arata, you... (DT The Ruler began to laugh lightly) you are the most egregious with this. So let me start with you since you’re the more lost in your own sauce between the two. Mr. Arata, after all that talk about yourself, after all that dialogue about you being the one to become champion, the man that lusted for the OWA World Championship and was willing to throw away the very Outlaw belt you entered Clash of the Titans with just to hold it, intentionally placing yourself Number 1 of 30...

...and you lost.

Not only did you lose, which does happen sometimes, but you have an excuse ready, one that I CALLED OUT without hesitation because despite not being here as long as you, I understand you as well as any other egomaniac molded by the harshness of this business and the ecstasy of gold. You did exactly what you should not have done from the get-go in an Over-The-Top-Rope challenge and that is underestimate any of your opposition, which- for a man who desires so greatly to be at the Top of the Mountain- is pathetic to see make such a rookie level mistake AND ADMIT SUCH! If I was so much worse than either you or Chris, Mr. Arata, I wouldn’t be holding the very prize you chase. I wouldn’t have made it to the Final Two at The Clash. Hell, with the many violent battles I had going into that PPV, I should not even have been there. But what you should’ve done prior to the event instead of enjoy the smell of your own farts is make sure you actually knew who you were up against. You were so preoccupied thinking that your Frontline Bros would be the only ones to bring the fight to you that you overlooked OBVIOUS threats, as I was right there, a man built different, a man who builds himself to be different, ready to strike down anyone when the chance came. Mr. Raivo is still hungry for same thing, and he was right there ready to strike anyone as well. And he did, didn’t he? We won't say how; you especially know one way he did to you exclusively. Even Mr. Chad Ecclestone and Mr. Noah Kreiger and Mr. Tyler Kulina were there to take a squat on your arrogance in that very match.

You say that I can’t take you and Chris on alone or in a scenario like a Triple Threat, and all you did as you spoke that nonsense was lift your skirt up and expose yourself! I didn’t want to believe some of the idiots that said that the Arata of today is soft, is dramatically weaker, and is nowhere near what he was known for being. But that crock of shit you spat has me changing my mind. When you get a chance before I go to the ring and body you, replay the last part of The Clash. Then don’t stop there. Go back a bit further and look at the Boiling Point and see who myself and Mr. Raivo won the Tag Team Championships off of. Opinions are fine to have, but facts are much more substantial, Mr. Arata, and the fact of the matter is: I’ve been able to compete with the likes of you and Christopher for MANY MONTHS NOW. Denial they say is not just a river in Egypt, and I’ve known you to reject the thought that you have something that makes you crumble the more of it you cross:

Direct Competition.

I’ve seen Composite Arata crumble when facing off against people on his level and close to. I’ve seen Composite Arata fall apart when his opponents didn’t just lay down and accept defeat because he said it was destined to happen. I’ve seen Composite Arata even take the life of a man he couldn’t beat WITH DIVINE INTERVENTION. And you have the audacity to say I can’t take you on. Newsflash: I’ve taken on better wrestlers in tougher conditions and made them see the lights no problem before they were taken away by the medical staff! You will be no dif- (DT The Ruler stopped speaking suddenly) excuse me...

 
(A member of his security team walked up to him with a large container of popcorn and candy, but he pointed towards the fifth row)


DT The Ruler: No, I’m good. Just give that to my sister and her kids over there.


Security Member: She wanted you to also have something.


DT The Ruler: Just give them the damn candy. Tell her I’ll hold fine. We;re not gonna make this an issue. Just let them have it.


Security Member: Yes, sir.


(The Security Member walked away)

 
Back to the discussion...

As for you, Mr. Sabertooth...

I can tell the anger is starting to arise in you. The hatred not of me, your Master and Ruler, but of the situation, the conundrum you see yourself kind of trapped in. It burns you, doesn’t it? It sucks to see you’re not on top when you possibly had a chance to be where I am. And I do Thank You for having a bit more awareness than Mr. Asakura, as the man is a lost cause.  But make no mistake, Mr. Sabertooth: when I speak about the recent past and our interactions, anything I speak of that did not fall into your favor is not me “rubbing it into your face”. It’s just me speaking the truth, and the truth a lot of times does hurt if you are operating under delusions. But unlike Arata, I can see a spark of hope that your head is still on your neck and not stuck in your ass.

So when I talk about your performance at The Clash, it’s not in a way to point and laugh, Mr. Sabertooth. I’d laugh at some of the other trash that barely lasted a minute, but you? Nah. They say “almost doesn’t count outside horseshoes and hand grenades,” but that’s false. As a competitor, you will always cross moments where you do not win. You will always cross situations where things are just too dire, or the game is so close you can taste victory, only to see the other team hit that Buzzer Beater when you were up by 1. Everyone wants to win, but only a select few get to. If you ever make it there, congratulations. But if you don’t, you must re-examine your mistakes, which you are capable of doing. And Self-Awareness is good, better than the current generation of 20-year-olds want to admit, but it does not ensure anything after. For your story to unfold the way you’d like, you need to take more appropriate actions after that moment of self-reflection.

In this case, however, Mr. Sabertooth: all your story does is reinforce that The Ruler was the better man when it mattered. Title on the line, fate of the Universe, the World watching from all parts of the Globe, and... The Ruler made the Play of the Game. Checkmate. Even in moments where my opposition may look like they are on the way to a victory over myself, I don't sweat it. A match isn't over until it's over, and even you should take that lesson with you. But my comments just now are not intended to pour salt in the wound; it’s just the truth of the matter. I’m not speaking the way I am just to say pretty much “I told you so,” Mr. Sabertooth, but I will address a few things you said to me. The first thing you should know, Mr. Sabertooth, is that as much as my story was not happening in OWA, it was still happening, and when you said “no one knows my story in OWA,” that’s when you started going off the rails. You could’ve asked Mr. Carlos Rosso, Mr. Stark, Mr. Oasis even about me, but you never did, and that’s because in your tenure within this environment, you adapted one of the worst traits noticeable in many of you and that is Tunnel Vision. I know the personnel here well enough to recognize these things. Well that, and being a CEO makes you more perceptive of people in general. Anyone who many of the OWA Faithful haven’t seen within the past two weeks is considered a nobody whose done nothing important. From my time here, I didn’t use my past accolades to impede on anyone’s ability to contend for Championships. Hell, despite being known by several noted wrestlers of OWA past, I started from the bottom and scrapped my way to every title opportunity I received, and yet you have the audacity to act like you being here since the beginning is considerable enough! Mr. Sabertooth, you should know being present does not automatically mean being a great! Even the people with the longest time here still should have to put in work. That alone is a major reason myself and my allies of For The Minorities declared war against this establishment, because we are here, week in and week out, facing whoever we are booked to face, and yet and still you as a longtime Kingdom rep have “mistakes” happening for the most important belt on the Brand!

And yes, you are correct: Stark was a mistake.

But so was Jason Long, and your brethren let that happen.

Hell, some even believe Ms. Azumi Goto was a mistake... and your newest Composite brethren let that happen.

If anything: you should be glad someone like The Ruler has this very championship in his possession instead of a person who leaves and then reappears magically and gets an instant Title shot just for existing. You should be glad a man who is willing to be on Kingdom and at PPVs every single time requested to is holding this very championship. And most importantly, you should be glad a man willing to WRESTLE to prove himself the best in OWA is holding the OWA World Championshi-

 
(DT The Ruler took a moment to pause and was approached by a member of his security again, who whispered a comment to him)


DT The Ruler: No, I don’t wanna go on stage and thank them for being here. Just make sure they enjoy the movie.


Security Member: Yes, sir.


DT The Ruler: I’m good as long as they’re good.


(The Security Member walked away as the movie started)


 
Where was I?

Oh yeah...

Mr. Sabertooth: I want to also to Thank You for doing one more thing, a thing you even surprised me with, and that is giving me the Cliff Notes synopsis of your story, the Story of Second Place. Honest truth, it’s not that bad of a tale. I guess if you’re on NBA Twitter and not the Lakers or Celtics, it may be, but for you: your story is compelling. I’m sure one day, someone like Peter Jackson or the guy that directed this movie my family members are going to watch will make an amazing script out of it. Maybe they can cast Chad Ecclestone to play you in it. (DT The Ruler laughs a little) But unfortunately, your story is no longer the lead of the Neverending Story of the OWA World Championship. And I can make that statement not just because I am champion now, but because I’ve been pretty perceptive of shit happening in OWA with everyone. I can speak about your story and Arata’s because I notice patterns. I notice trends. It’s probably the Business Management side of me. Being around and surviving many of the atrocities and otherworldly battles is great, something to respect to a certain extent. And much like these people in the audience for The Haunted Mansion, you two are right now at a point where you need to accept your positions as spectators. Both of you have done your dirt, have had your time to make your stand. Both of you even had a chance to position yourselves for The Clash however you saw fit right after I fought for my life against The Seventh Ward and the Dojo Brothers and retained the Tag Team Championships...

...and for many reasons outlined, you were unsuccessful.


...and you lost.


The current story of the OWA World Championship is held by a suitable author and controller for a change, a man who proved himself many times over against wrestlers young and old, experienced and unseasoned, tactical and chaotic, male and female, and my story being the way it is does not center my age. And the best part of it all is that... it’s just beginning. This is nowhere close to the end for The Ruler of Men. Everything happening to me I worked my ass off for. Everything I’m getting I put my livelihood, MY LIFE on the line for, and I made it this far not because of the stars, moons, and planets aligning just right; I made it to this position because I am as great as I say I am AND MORE! That’s what happens when you’re great, ascending to Legendary Status in a profession that takes no prisoners and cares nothing about your heart: you eventually stand at the top of the Mountain and get to look down on all the men you have outdone.

But at Burning Sky, the triple threat coming... it is a Litmus Test for myself. Another one, by the way. I can rise to that challenge without issue, as in the first one, I did exactly what I said I would. But it is a Litmus Test for the both of you as well, as your stories- as you interpret them- when it comes to the OWA World Championship looks pretty grim. Not because you are bad wrestlers; I won't cap like Mr. Asakura about that fact. You're just not... better than I am. when it’s Go Time, when Playoff Mode needs to be activated, when things may look dreadful to the onlookers who never been in situations I have survived and prevailed, I AM BETTER THAN BOTH OF YOU WHEN IT MATTERS.

 
And your Master and Ruler will prove he is better than both of you put together.




(DT The Ruler leaned back further in his theater chair and looked at the screen confidently as the camera faded to black)

Aria Jaxon, Scott Oasis, Mav., Alyssa Grace, Darkane and 'Don' Hendrix have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Mav.
Re: OWA Promos
Post July 28th 2023, 8:10 pm by Mav.

❝ ANYTHING FOR CLOUT. ❞
BURNING SKY 01.  \\  vs ARTHUR WAKEFIELD JR and NOAH KRIEGER.

“You’re not as strong as you might seem,
you’re not as talented as some might tell you that you are,
and you’re not as gifted as you believe in yourself to be.”

Hadn’t I told you about what might happen, Noah?

I wanted to let you have your moment in the spotlight and I wanted to let you soak in that win against me that you got because, for once, you beat me at my own game when I couldn’t handle it the same as I used to be able to. Noah, I had hoped for the best from you after the loss but then, you threw it all away immediately. You fumbled the bag that I had given you and then you went off on your own little tangent because I was right. It’s such a sad sight to see someone with such potential fall so quickly after everything had been handed to him. So many claimed that the torch was passed to them, so many had claimed that this was going to be the start of something else for Noah Krieger and this would finally see himself being proven on a much bigger stage than ever before heading into Final Destination. And still, the mighty have fallen quite a bunch, hasn’t he?

I’d never understand what made you believe that it was the right time to come out there and interrupt my own business when it wasn’t your own. I had expected that to have been the final chapter of our careers and would’ve hoped for a moment that sought out to close the book, write the ending, and never meet again unless it was almost necessary for ourselves. Yet, you couldn’t accept defeat after telling you exactly what would happen. Luckily, I had a hand to help out when nobody expected it. You’d think after I had done everyone wrongly that I wouldn’t find anyone to help me out in what seems to be an all-out war with CATCH Hound. Well, you keep real friends away from the bullshit and they don’t get hurt, that’s the case for Aria. I hadn’t gone after her for anything so it was all coming together once she came to help me put a little bit of discipline upon the man-child.

And when you begin to ask questions as to why this is all a thing or why the fuck would Aria even want to team with me: it’s simple when you honestly think about it – there’s never been an issue, we’ve settled our differences a long time ago before she ever retired from the sport and had her little child. Respect is earned, not given. Between us two, it’s shared. I’ve earned hers, she’s earned mine. Nothing more, nothing less. As it pertains to you, Noah? You’ve started something that you can’t fight back against. Like I said, I wanted to move on from this little saga of ours. We’ve had our fun, you found your moment finally, and I simply didn’t see you going further along from there. I’ve seen it time and time again, I’ve seen where this story plays into. Three times I have been at that road and have known where the trail may lead toward a particular dead end.

Noah Quinn, Chad Ecclestone, and now, Noah Krieger. This isn’t some third time's charm or third time lucky bullshit. Their time at the top was up there when they beat me, I had given them elevation and then they continued to use that spotlight given to them to slowly and constantly fall down flat. You, however, took a very unnecessary drop from that height and you thought that going right back for more would be what filled up the pitiful ego that you need fuelled up to go on another adventure. The issue at hand isn’t whether or not you want to find success again so you come back to the same man you’ve bested twice in a row – it’s how much you need me to be the catapult for your career.

I had heard you time and time again, every time you could mention my name – it was always involving that loss to me, anytime that you wanted to reflect back on who you once were, it was always that loss to me. The same Krieger from the past, in your own imagination, is a very different Krieger from the one that’s here today. Though, I see the same man each and every single time. One loss away from kicking the bucket on his career and ripping up the contract, not wanting to do this anymore because he can’t handle taking losses to people he doesn’t think could beat him. I told you that you weren’t as strong, tough, or as good as you believed yourself to be. You became the pariah for your own success, yet, you’re willing to throw it all away once something takes a bad knock.

And you won’t learn from your own mistakes either, that’s the real issue at hand for you.

You could’ve just taken the respect right there and then, but you spat it right back into my face because you couldn’t accept what was right all along. In that moment, you showed me – and everyone else – exactly what kind of a man that you are. You’ve shown everyone exactly what I was talking about and who you really are. You’re not the good hand that people should expect better things from. You’re a man that’s full of angst like a teenager, a man that’s full of an ego being given to him by his peers, and a man who can say that he doesn’t care about me anymore and this is all because I was ‘attacking’ Arthur, his stablemate and friend, but we all saw what happened earlier in the night, we all know the story by now, and we know just how desperate Noah Krieger can be.

Raivo was right. It’s a constant use of the same talking points over and over again with you that causes so many to continuously repeat themselves and play into your retardation – so, why bother anymore? I’ve better things to be focused on either way when you think about it. For once, I didn’t have to suffer talking to a wall when it came to Arthur Wakefield. I knew that man could say some things that might pinch me a little but nothing excessive, nothing I’ve already heard about before, but at least he’s not a broken record walking around acting like he runs shit around here.

Then again, it’s what you expect from the product of Wakefield’s DNA. From a broken record of himself, to a broken record formed into an entire family. The same story is told over and over again. It’s no wonder how CATCH Hound found themselves a partnership.  Alas, I wouldn’t begin to worry for such when it concerns Arthur to begin with. The bastard child of whatever love fondling that a Wakefield accomplished, he proved his family name quite well when made quick work of. Though, I don’t feel accomplished with the victory over you. See, it felt a lot more hollow than I had anticipated. I talked a whole lot of shit because I knew that I’d have my ass handed to me, admittedly, but then you didn’t even begin to try it felt like. I wondered whether or not this was some weird false dream but then I realised what had happened. You’re as full of shit as I had expected you to have been.

Why must we meet again? To see another example of failure on your part? Personally, I have nothing to say about you because I’ve beaten you fairly and cleanly. There’s nothing to speak about with you because I’m not going to buy into the bullshit of your family history and whatever else you’d tell anyone. I’d sit here and once again ponder over how shit your great grandfather was or whatever the case is. The fuck am I meant to do there, huh? The issue is that I don’t give a shit about any Wakefield. I couldn’t fucking care less and beating you was just easy enough but they put you here, they want you embarrassed and humiliated – and whilst you might think knocking down two big names is something to hold onto for the next hundred years? All that it is for you is a future you cannot predict to become a reality.

I’d love to send you six feet into the fucking earth before you’re ever really born but there’s no satisfaction in that whatsoever. I have to wonder what I can possibly think goes on inside of your head to even want to take this match more seriously than you did against me one on one – maybe you already felt that humiliation because you couldn’t believe you were beaten by “the worst OWA World Champion in it’s history”. I don’t blame you for thinking like that either, it’s what everyone believes me to be and maybe I am. Ideally, I might just be the worst of them all but that’s fine. I’ve grown to accept it and not outright deny it ever happened. That doesn’t mean that I’ve lost my touch, I’ve lost what I am or have become or even have been for quite some time.

I have, however, accepted what brought me back. A final fuck you to anyone that ever wished death upon me. Anyone that ever hoped I’d just kick the bucket like some of their own heroes, they got their wish for a few weeks – if not, months – but here’s your wish fucking spat back at them and now, they’ve got a bigger problem than any great war had brought onto them. A tribunal holding them accountable to their fate. This is the most dangerous team that could’ve ever been imagined, wouldn’t you believe? None of the Queens of Wrestling bullshit required. None of the Ashes of The Wake, The Mafia, or whatever bullshit you’d think of is needed. This is a stronger power than anything ever imagined.

No more of the bullshit.  I – and Aria – are done playing into the games of many.

And we will not be held accountable for what might happen to those who want to stop us before we even begin.

Aria Jaxon, Scott Oasis, Alyssa Grace, 'Don' Hendrix and DT The Ruler have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Chad Ecclestone
Re: OWA Promos
Post July 28th 2023, 7:55 pm by Chad Ecclestone
An op-ed column is printed in the Friday edition of every major, noteworthy newspaper or publication across the country.

MINORITY REPORT
by Chadwick Xavier Ecclestone

For days, the citizens of this country – nay, the entire world – have waited with baited breath, in rapt anticipation of the next cinematic promotional masterpiece from everyone’s favorite celebrity Chad Ecclestone, who is I.

Well, to them I say this: too fucking bad.

That’s right, my dear fans and well-wishers, for as much as I live to entertain you poverty-stricken, depressed peasants, this time I must deny my own purpose in this life. This time, I refuse.

I know we all thought the ascension of Donovan ‘The Ruler’ T would be a moment that would bring this country together, and finally destroy the gruesome specter of racism that has haunted America since its inception. And honestly, it might have, were it not for the machinations of the discriminatory goons that run the Omega Wrestling Alliance.

That’s right, ladies and gentlemen, Scott Oasis and Kenny Drake are back on their bullshit once again. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, but I foolishly believed they might have been capable of learning from the error of their ways. I guess this proves that even a man as talented, brilliant and attractive as myself can make the occasional mistake.

And no, I’m not even talking about the fact that I – the hero who came in third place in this year’s Clash of the Titans – is being forced to audition for a title shot, while some genocidal bum like Arata Asakura – who didn’t even make the top four, I might add – is handed yet another opportunity that he doesn’t deserve. I won’t complain about the anti-Chad sentiment that runs rampant backstage, and keeps perhaps the greatest entertainer this company has ever seen stuck in the midcard. Because this isn’t about me, or my supposed ‘ego’, or any other libelous nonsense the dirtrags might print.

This is about the racists in the OWA head office trying to turn me – a lifelong, stalwart ally of the POC cause – against a proud black man like DT and his loud-talking boy Raivo. It doesn’t even matter that Raivo has spent days saying some awfully out of pocket shit about me, my wife, and even my beloved friend and stuntman Mitch. I won’t sink down to his level, because I’m better than that, and I’m better than him.

The fact is, Oasis has backed me and my brother from another mother into a corner here. There’s no winning, for either of us. Either Raivo defeats me, and goes on to continue the troubling and sickening trend of black-on-black violence at the biggest wrestling show of the year… or I defeat him, and I’m forced to verbally demean and physically brutalize Donovan, one of the few individuals in this garbage sport who I actually respect.

So, you see, this isn’t a time for me to entertain the people, or to help you all forget about the troubles that plague your lives. This is a time to reflect. A time for soul-searching: not just for me, or the fans, or OWA, but for the entire nation.

He (Scott Oasis) will not divide us.

Mav., Alyssa Grace, 'Don' Hendrix, Raivo and DT The Ruler have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Christopher Sabertooth
Burning Sky Promo 2
Post July 28th 2023, 6:24 pm by Christopher Sabertooth
OWA Promos Stsmal10


A single spotlight appears over a Poker table as the scene begins. Christopher Sabertooth, with a cigar in his mouth and sporting a fancy suit, is the only one facing the camera. We see only the back of the head of the other two gentlemen on the table, though with distinguishing features. A bald black man with veins popping out of the head like it’s going to blow up any second. And a spiked-up blonde hair straight out of anime. 

A beautiful woman joins by their side with a deck of cards in hand. She carefully shuffles through the bunch and throws out two cards each for the men at the table. 

The bald man, who we will refer to as Don T going forward, has an ACE OF CLUBS and SEVEN OF HEARTS in his hand. He throws in a chip in the middle of the table showing his intentions to play further. 

The anime man-- now referred to as Arata, pulls a pair of Kings. KING OF HEARTS and KING OF SPADES to be exact. A great start to the round. Arata raises the pot with the three chips in.

The camera pans toward Chris’ hand. We’re only able to get a glimpse of one card. TEN OF DIAMONDS. Heading into the flop, Chris has the lowest chance to pull out with the win. With no hesitation, Chris matches Arata’s raise and so does Don T. 

The dealer masterfully rolls three cards onto the table. The flop has been revealed.

ACE OF HEARTS. KING OF DIAMONDS. EIGHT OF CLUBS.

Don and Arata have struck big. Don might be overconfident with his Ace Pair as that’s the highest pairing possible in the game meanwhile Arata hits it big with a THREE OF A KIND with Kings.

Chris takes a puff out of his cigar before looking at his opposition.

“You boys hit it big? I can’t tell by your reactions but you both look confident. I should probably fold.” Said Chris.

“Backing out already? Typical.” Don T replied sarcastically.

“I don’t know about you but I am raising the stakes.” Arata replied confidently.

Arata pushes ten chips toward the center of the table. 

“Ten? How about Fifty?” Don replied by re-raising himself.

Chris looked again at his cards. Deep down, he realized it was foolish to bluff against two strong hands ahead of him. His best bet was to save his money and fold. As Chris is about to push his cards away-- he stops himself. Maybe the taunts got to him as he calls the raise instead. Arata quickly matches it as the Turn Card gets placed on the table.

ACE OF DIAMONDS.

Arata had just gotten a Kings Ace Full House. Whilst Don T managed to get a Three of a Kind with Aces… Or so we thought.

The camera barely caught it but we can see that Don places his hand under the table. A mechanism shoots out a card into his hands while taking away the dud. A literal Ace up his sleeve. The oldest trick in the book had gone unnoticed.

Now rocking the ACE OF SPADES and ACE of CLUBS, Don T has a nearly unbeatable hand at play. FOUR OF A KIND. Arata's misguided confidence could cost him everything.

Meanwhile, the situation got worse for Chris. His opponents had drawn it big and were ready to raise the pot value through the roof. Chris checked on his turn, drawing a scoff out of Don T. 

“You should have just folded.” He remarked as he raised the value up to a THOUSAND CHIPS

Arata was weary of the two Ace Cards at play. There was a chance that Don T could have a higher Full House draw than Arata. But surely this was a bluff, right? Don T couldn’t have been that lucky. Well, he wasn’t. But his craftiness had gotten him the perfect hand. The one that could not lose. Don T was as confident as one could be. 

Arata begrudgingly chooses to fold his Full House. It was a smart fold by him. It was a losing battle, to begin with, as Don T was going to cheat his way into winning the whole thing.

“You did the right thing, Arata. Sometimes it’s better to live to fight another day.” Chris remarked to the displeasure of Arata, who stepped up and left the table.

It was down to Don T and Chris. The River Card was the only thing that could change the tide for Chris. He had almost no chance of winning this battle. 

“Just fold already and walk away. You’re not ready for this. You can’t handle putting all your chips on the line. Like always, you fold under the pressure. Walk away like Arata did. Go fight another battle because this one is a lost cause. I dare you to walk away and prove to everybody that they were right about you. You’re a quitter.” Don T was egging on his opponent to force a misplay. Having the winning hand, all Don needed to do was taunt Chris into playing into his trap. 

“I am going to… go ALL IN!Chris remarked to the delight of Don T. Don couldn’t hold on to his excitement. 

“Good! You did the right thing, Chris. The world is going to call you foolish for what you did but I respect it. What’s the point of living to fight another day when you can go out with a bang? Enjoy your final moments under the spotlight. You’ve made me a rich man.”

DT was overjoyed as he pushed in all of his chips as well. For all the marbles, the River Card is finally placed on the table.

QUEEN OF DIAMONDS.

“Whatever card it was, it didn’t matter! I was NEVER going to lose to you.” Don T arrogantly threw his Ace Pair onto the table.

“Now walk away. You never deserved to be under the spotlight, to begin with. This is my moment. MY TIME! I AM THE RULER OF THIS WORLD! And all the chips are on MY table!”

Don T proclaimed his victory as an emotionless Chris looked on. 

“You know Don… Not too long ago, I learned a valuable lesson from you. Don’t count your eggs before they hatch. Looks like your arrogance blinded you from the truth. The spotlight that you revel under was never yours to take. There’s not a lot of room under it and I haven’t decided to walk away just yet.”

Chris turns over his cards.

TEN OF DIAMONDS. JACK OF DIAMONDS. 


The strongest hand possible in the game of Poker.

THE ROYAL FLUSH!

The camera pans around to reveal a DT look-alike staring at the table in disbelief. Even with an Ace up his sleeve… He fell victim to the best hand in Poker. Don T thought he had no chance of losing this match… But if he had paid attention to his surroundings, he would have known better than to foolishly go all in on this round. His arrogance had blinded his sense of judgment. The veteran crumbled down to the ground as Chris gathered around all the chips. 

The camera does a 180 turn as another spotlight appears behind the scene. 

Christopher Sabertooth, now in his wrestling gear with sweat dripping down his body, stares into the camera lens. 

The future isn’t any different for The Ruler. The man who is way too happy with the cards he had been dealt-- A man who is willing to cheat to keep what he has… A man who self-admittedly didn’t see himself as anything more than a background character to Raivo’s story. DT knew his worth and the value he can provide to someone as brash as Raivo. 

And yet, one moment of bliss and he’s forgotten all of it. DT’s run at the Clash wasn’t any more impressive than my own or Arata’s for that matter. He’s a veteran that capitalized on my mistake. I will give him credit for that. There are no excuses for what happened at Clash. I should have finished the job but I stumbled at the last second. But that one moment of glory was enough to bring DT back to the good ol’ days. All of a sudden, DT is young again and living his best life.

I am happy that one moment could do so much for you, DT. And it will hurt me a tad bit to take that away from you. But that’s the nature of the game. You had a great hand and you played it to perfection. But there’s something that you can never beat-- It’s father time. I am sure you’ve been through plenty of battles over your long and illustrious career. Some that brought you to the brink of death… But I have BEEN dead before. I was stuck in hell for what felt like an eternity. The things I have done-- The things I have seen are something you can never compare to. I have faced adversity all my life. I have looked death in the eyes and accepted my fate. I have lost everything that I have ever cared for. AND STILL, I am standing right here… 

You may have a great hand but the cards that I was dealt were carved and painted in my blood, sweat, and tears. So, I do fancy my chances come Sunday. We’re in Vegas so it’s only fair. I will gamble with my fucking legacy. Everything is at stake and I am willing to risk it all. DT, the question is, will you call me on that? Or will you fold as others have before me? Talk about the people that laid the foundation for this company-- How many of them are still here? How many of them have been doing this at the highest level without taking a single break? Only death could separate me from the thing that I love… And my passion burnt through the fiery pits of hell as I defied the laws of the universe. There must be a reason for God to keep bringing me back. I haven’t fulfilled my purpose yet in life. 

They said that there’s nothing permanent in life except death and taxes. Well, I have cheated them both. Sorry IRA. So what makes you think that this little moment of glory that you’re gloating about will last an eternity? You should be happy that it happened in the first place, DT. Most people don’t even get that moment. But your cards are no good against mine. In the world of OWA, my cards will prove to be the strongest and stand the test of time. 

Don’t let this celebration blind the world from the fact that this man chose to side with the monsters that wanted to bring humanity down to its knees. Everybody in the world could have told them it was a bad idea but they did not listen until the final moment. FTM walked away from the War-- They did not finish it. We chose to fight-- We chose to sacrifice everything that was dear to us. FTM wasn’t ready to fight for humanity. Why should anybody side with them now? 

The Master and The Ruler of the OWA got lucky. Fool me once, shame on you. But fool me-- you can’t get fooled again. I have been training every single day since the Clash to carry you on my back but maybe I should have asked Raivo cause he does that on a regular. DT, you survived the Clash. That’s what it was. But those mistakes won’t matter here. No matter what you raise to the table, I will call your bluff every single time! I will not back down. I will not walk away. Kingdom is MY home and you’re just living here rent-free. But it’s about time you fucking pay up with interest. 

DT, the moment I got a call from Oasis, I was ALL IN! I don’t care who steps up to defend your fucking honor. Whether it’s Maggall’s fat ass or the less talented Rosso-- Hell, you can get an army of you motherfuckers and I will not surrender. This battle only ends with you getting exposed for the fraud you are. I will put you in a hospital just like Darkane did-- Shit, I am ready to do worse. I don’t care about the consequences. DT, you have something that I NEED. I have waited ALL MY FUCKING LIFE for that moment and I am not letting one mistake set me back years of healing and progress. I was ready at the Clash and I am even more prepared now.

Final Destination is around the corner and there’s nothing I want more in life than to MAIN EVENT the show as the OWA World Champion. My Frontline brothers told me that it feels really good to do so. I want to prove to the world that I wasn’t gifted my moment at the top but rather robbed of the euphoria that should have been mine for making a childhood dream come true. I want to experience the ecstasy of the whole world cheering me on as the streamers fall down from the sky. I want to go on every show that would have me and proudly proclaim myself as the OWA World Champion. I want to go back home to Aberdeen and tell my father that I finally did it. I finally achieved everything I ever wanted in life. I want to show my peers that you can overcome any challenge in the world if you put your heart into it. Even death couldn’t hold me back. DT is a mere mortal in comparison. 

For all the years under Havoc, I held on to the hope that one day I will be free. That one day I will get to achieve everything I had ever dreamt of. I didn’t care if it was a 0.0001 percent chance. I didn’t want to give up just like O’Shea never gave up on me. Just like Hana never gave up on me. I can’t give up now… Not at the final hurdle. I am grateful for this opportunity. I understand how lucky I am to be in this position right before the biggest show this company has ever done. The stars have aligned for me once again, and this time, I will play the best hand possible. Burning Sky. A Royal Flush. A knee to the face. And a shattering Giga Drill Break to put an end to The Ruler.

Arata, I do care about you. We’re Frontline till we die…again. Just walk away before things get too messy. Live to fight another day and I promise you I will give you a fair shot at the title once again. I think you realize how much this means to me. I want to make the Frontline proud. I want to be at the top of the OWA. Something you have experienced before in your lifetime. There’s nothing else left for you to prove. You’re a legend of the game, Arata. I humbly request you to not step in my way at Burning Sky. Things won’t go your way just like in the Clash. You’re going to bomb out before making it to the end… And I don’t want to see that happen. I can’t lose, Arata. I WILL NOT lose. So, you’re not going to break my will or my body. What’s the worst that can happen? I will die again? I’ll find a way to cheat death and be right at your doorstep the next day. Persistence is probably my strongest suit. 

Forget not going down without a fight-- I am not going down, period. This night will be the most important one of my career. From one man who lost it all before to another, there’s nothing DT can bring to the table that I haven’t seen and overcome before. Clash was a mistake that I want to personally rectify. Unlike you, I made it to the end. 

You put up a great fight, Arata. But your hubris got the better of you. You chose not to use your powers. You chose to enter number one. If only you had lasted a bit longer… Alas, we can’t have it all. You can keep the glory of all the records you broke that night. You deserve that… But the title. That’s my battle to fight. I don’t know about you but Evil Arata got plenty of chances handed to him at every step of the way. I know you’re not him but there’s a little grudge inside of me that comes out whenever Arata’s name is put on the table as a title contender. 

My mind automatically defaults to ‘Him again?’ That’s not your fault, really. Oasis didn’t have much of a spine back when Golden Dawn ran the show. Take that as you will, Arata. But I will not repay you for anything on Sunday. In fact, I willingly chose not to contend for the OWA World Championship, all this time, because I wasn’t mentally ready for it. Clash was the first time I ever felt like I could be the Christopher Sabertooth that was promised. I was one shove away from being right about every feeling in my bone right now. I KNOW I can do this. So, Frontline be damned, but I am not letting you stop me either Arata. 

Just like you didn’t care about booting Jeff out of the Clash. We’re all in it for ourselves, at the end of the day. I am selfish, Arata. I am sure Noah Kreiger would do anything in a heartbeat to swap places with me. But I don’t fucking care about Noah or Raivo or anybody else’s passion or dreams. I was here first. I have put in the hours. I HAVE SACRIFICED EVERYTHING! And I deserve a fair shot at destiny. 

Burning Sky. 

All I need is my Royal Flush.

My winning condition. 

I will find it no matter what.

The unbeatable hand.

You can take that to the bank. 

Scott Oasis, Arata Asakura, Alyssa Grace, 'Don' Hendrix and DT The Ruler have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Noah Krieger
Re: OWA Promos
Post July 28th 2023, 12:46 pm by Noah Krieger
OWA Promos Ox1dOmn

BURNING SKY— PROMO #2| SELLOUT.


Some find the darkness to be a frightening ordeal, but for some, it can be a sense of peace, and that’s how Noah Krieger feels on this beautiful evening. Even with the heat of Las Vegas keeping him at bay, he still chooses to walk outside, needing a moment to think after weeks of tension separating his body from his mind, and it has eaten away at him for too long. Looking up at the sky, high above where he stood, nothing could be seen, it’s almost as if he stood in the streets of Las Vegas alone, but this still wasn’t the case. Many began to pass him, continuing on the journey through the iconic city, but there he stood, still as a predictable statue, before closing his eyes. A voice quickly creeps up on him, almost at a scary pace, before speaking directly to Noah, without any hesitation or warning.

“What is wrong with you? What is the matter, recently?”

He quickly opens his eyes out of shock, clearly shaken up by the whole ordeal, and as many continue to stare at him, clearly being confused by the situation, Noah proceeds to head over to a bench nearby, and gently sits down, soon after. Before too much time could pass, he chose to close his eyes once more, and yet again the recognizable voice could be heard loud-and-clear.

“You don’t think you’d get rid of me that easily, did you? Listen to me carefully, this isn’t just another fight, this is all about you protecting your family — LIKE ME. You once felt as if you weren’t able to save me, well now here’s your chance to avenge someone, take it, Noah.”

Immediately after this, Noah opens his eyes once more, smiling after hearing his former trainer’s voice, and realizes the reasoning for the sudden return — this isn’t about him, it’s so much deeper than that. It’s a chance at redemption, and more importantly, finally putting his enemies at bay, and victory is the only thing he should seek. He now sits still on the bench, with his eyes remaining wide open, he looks at all the individuals passing by, and all that he can think of is… the future.

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

Final Destination is fast approaching, the place I made my first impact, the big show where I have the honor of entering with a title around my waist. But even still, I sense a weird feeling in the air, one that I can’t put a meaning to just yet. However, this feeling I can put something to it. It’s the most important show of the year, the only place where OWA’s finest get their final chance to shine for the season. And maybe that feeling is simply just jitters, or that nervous twitch some actors brush off right before they walk upon the stage on Broadway, as they need to bring life to their character in an instant. But I do see the opportunity to see the honor and opportunity to be considered one of the best. I debuted at this show this time last year, and the main thing that I still think about is being greater than I was last time around.

That’s all I’ve wanted since I’ve come here; that’s all I work to be: simply be better. Amongst the greats of this company, there’s always the chance to be above the greats. I want my name in either place, for the history books! But I still look around and I see others still acting ungrateful, some don’t see the chance like I do, whether it’s because there isn’t a World title opportunity waiting for them, or because they’re facing…me. No matter where I turn, there’s those that believe that I’m not worth their time, that sharing the ring with me is a disgrace to their talents, but no matter what they say, this is far from the truth, it’s a pile of lies to make them feel slightly better. Even then, so many choose to complain about what I bring to the table, how my skills aren’t even close to comparable to theirs, but in the wake of their lies, I’ve proven them wrong, and I intend to do so again. I’ve been through hell and back to prove that I belong, that my skills shouldn’t be doubted by those that refuse to say it to my face, but I don’t believe I need to prove anything, any longer. This is no longer about ensuring that I’m worthy of anything, but rather that I’m not lesser than anyone else.

Once again, all of this can be brought back to one thing: Jason Long.

There’s no difference between you and the rest of them, you believe that you’re fit to lead this division, and there’s no room for the both of us, and I tend to agree with you, shockingly enough. You’ve proven to me before that you’re not willing to let this one go, that you need to settle this before it ruins you, and I’m going to give you that chance, not because you deserve it, but because of the damage you’ve caused. Conflict always existed between the two of us, usually with this very championship causing the rift, but this story is no longer about being known as a champion, it’s much deeper, and that’s all on you, nobody else. You’re aware of how important defending this championship at the biggest show of the year is to me, and you’ve made a point to try and tear that dream out from under me, not because this title means something to you, but because you can’t accept the reality that this story will end in defeat for you. For months on end, you have made it a point to try and find success, but with every defeat that you’ve faced, your confidence began to unravel, and whether this was due to your motivation or drive; the result remains the same.

So why act so irrationally when it comes to me? Well, I believe I’ve figured it out.

When you look at me, you see that my motivation, my drive, it doesn’t run out, my will to fight continues to live inside of me — and that kills you inside. Even though I've lost my fair share of important matches throughout my career, even recently, never did I allow it to define me, but the same can’t be said for you, and that’s why you have an issue with me. You can’t handle that I’m able to learn from my own losses, and can hide my emotions long enough to succeed when others try to feed into them, but that’s not what needs to be done this time, my emotions can no longer be hidden, and whether you like it or not, you need to be dealt with. You’ve tried to take away my livelihood, my career, and the championship that means everything to me, but you’re aware of all of this already. My dream of defending this championship at Final Destination could’ve all disappeared in the blink of an eye, and you’d simply laugh about it, because that’s who you are; a piece of shit. There’s something you need to understand, this is no longer your title to wear, you’re no longer at the forefront of this division, and while the other failures might’ve been your own doing, this was different, it was all because of…me. I put an end to this chapter of your story, and if you’re going to continue to chase after me and what I’ve earned through my sacrifices, then I’ll put you the fuck down once again, this is no longer a game to me.

Take this as a warning measure, there will be no hesitation shown.

The amount of times that you’ve cost me the chance to progress my career is ridiculous at this point, and I no longer will be a victim to your little game, and Arthur won’t be, either. It’s been way too long since both you and I have been part of this war, that allow me to remind you… I DIDN’T START. You could’ve easily stayed away when you were given the chance, but it’s quite clear that you’re not able to let things go, and now this is where the two of us stand, are you happy yet? I’ll tell you one thing, I’m not, actually I am absolutely sick and tired of watching you try to ruin what I’ve built, and everytime you try to, you find a way to pull it off — no more. It’s exhausting to be treated as a fool when you’re far from it, I’m a champion for god’s sakes, the leader of this division, but still I’ve got doubters trying to take what I’ve earned, what I’ve built by my own love of this sport, and there’s only so much doubt that one man can take, or will allow to occur in front of him. So I believe it’s about time I’m treated as a champion, a leader,  so don’t think for a second that I’m going to allow you to continue disrespecting me, it’s about time that you realize exactly who you’re dealing with, someone who perseveres no matter the situation, someone who rises from the ashes when everyone has already counted him out, that’s always what has defined me, and you’ve only brought out the rest of that feeling out from underneath me.  I’ve been dealing with you for what feels like a lifetime, and I can promise you that I won’t be the one to roll over for the likes of you, I feel no fear towards you, and I never have, which is why you will PAY THE CONSEQUENCES for involving Arthur.

You’re completely aware that he didn’t need to be a part of this, that he didn’t deserve to be a victim to the torture that leaves a small grin upon your face, but if I were you — I’d wipe it off real quick. Even after all of this time, and everything we’ve been through, you still are unaware of what I’m capable of, and what CATCH HOUND are willing to do to those that attempt to tear us down. Which is what you’ve tried to do, but one problem still remains — you won’t be successful. We aren’t notorious for fumbling at the finish line, and while I know you’re not able to relate, there’s still a lesson to be taught, and it’s that failing isn’t meant to be a regular activity, but you continue to surprise many. You’ve never accomplished anything on your own, and with tainted accolades to your name, what’s left to brag about? I’ll tell you, there’s nothing, and now you’re trying to find your way back to a place of relevance at our expense? Not happening. I won’t allow it to happen, it’s time that you learn that there isn’t always a light at the end of the tunnel, I’m not holding it up for you, but I’ll certainly drop it in front of you, for the sole purpose of proving a point.

Perhaps, you can try, but you still couldn’t do it alone, and you brought along a little friend, isn’t that right? Let’s be truthful for a second, I didn't downplay your greatness, Aria, but rather only as a human being. There’s no doubt in my mind that you could send Jason Long back to the land of irrelevance in a heart-beat, but instead you have decided to align with him, I’ve got to assume that’s from desperation. So I’ll do you a favor, no longer will praise come from my mouth, I won’t speak about what could’ve been if you simply made the correct choice in the first place, but rather how weak your mind has become. You want to talk about two championship losses? Give me a break, I was nearly killed in a championship defence against Jeff X, and still failed, before heading into a string of losses, but did that make me question my morals? Not a chance. I got myself together, realized what needed to be done, and captured this very title, so don’t pull that crap, Aria.

You can continue to try and convince yourself that you’re not making a poor decision, but all I continue to see is delusion, and it’s becoming quite frustrating to deal with. If you can’t see that Jason is a master of manipulation, and you’re only his next victim, then that’s simply on you. He’s done the same to countless others, but he won’t have the chance to do so this time, but it’s not going to be because of your success as a pairing, quite the opposite, actually. I’ve told Jason this before, and now it’s your turn, I won’t be disrespected any longer, especially not by a sellout like yourself. I’ll tell you something that’s for certain, you better watch your tone when you speak, Chicago isn’t where jokes are told, it’s where faces are made to be broken. So Aria, I dare you to come after me, try to kick me in the skull, but just know that I’m not easily broken, and I’ll have no hesitation in returning the favor.

You’re correct in saying that I never really knew you, but that doesn’t matter now, I know a two-faced bitch when I see one, and you’re the complete package deal. I don’t need to know you to be aware that you’re coming after my family, and whether Jason is using or not to get to me seems to not matter in your mind, so I will no longer pay attention to it, or your clear nonsense. You have this desire to come after MY family? To not only take what I’ve spent over half a decade building, and to embarrass the Wakefield name? Well I’ll say this, you can always try, the both of you can step inside of the squared circle and attempt this little takeover of yours, but I can assure you, that not much movement will be made — because this is where we thrive, this is all we know. CATCH Hound was created on the foundation of our shared love of this sport, while your alliance is built off of lies and manipulation, it won’t last, and neither will your chances in this contest.

So feel free to make your invaluable threats, come after what I hold near and dear, because just like Burning Sky, I’ll come out victorious, and not because desperation led me to this point, but because this is all I’ve known, it’s what makes me who I am, and failure won’t be on my radar, not on this occasion. So while, you might’ve come long before me, and those accomplishments of yours might outweigh mine at this moment in time, falling to you isn’t an option, allowing you to kick me in the teeth isn’t on my bucket list, but you know what is? Teaching you a lesson that I only know how, and that’s putting a definitive end to not only you, but Jason as well, and embarrassing the two of you this time around— because that’s the reality check that you so desperately need — which is the only way to protect my family is to get rid of you, both of you.

I trust Arthur with my life, and he trusts me with his, which is why I’m not particularly feeling like letting him down. There's a need within me to avenge his pain, and that only comes from acquiring victory this weekend. Do you both trust one another with your lives? I doubt it.

We breathe professional wrestling, and when pushed to our limit, we’re ready to prove this.

Arata Asakura, Alyssa Grace, 'Don' Hendrix, DT The Ruler and Lazarus Arjen have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Arata Asakura
Re: OWA Promos
Post July 28th 2023, 11:18 am by Arata Asakura
OWA Promos 20230216_095628
OWA Promos Tumblr_pfyg6uqaFE1s0zdtdo2_1280


Burning Sky #1: Castle of Glass.

24.07.2023 Unknown Realm 

*The clock hand slowly moved across the face, counting down every precious second before Arata was supposed to appear in the ring for the first time since his frustrating loss at Clash of the Titans. Even though there were only a few days left, the man treasured every moment of the day he had. What could he have done to avoid repeating his mistake? How could he better handle his body and mind to be more efficient? As everyone knew, Arata hardly ever rested. He was obsessively looking for new ways to always be one step ahead of the rest. However, training and meditation were not the only source of development. Ever since Arata made a pact with the goddess Izanami, he had undergone the various experiments she was preparing for him. It was not only part of their deal, but also something that often opened his eyes. Something that helped him understand the situation and himself even better. It was what he needed the most right now. He was desperate to see a ray of sun in the darkness.*

*The sound of the clock was muffled by the machine from which dozens of cables were led. They were connected to the chest, head and hands of Arata. Izanami wanted to make sure that no detail escaped her, as she brought him into the simulation. Arata closed his eyes, trying to relax his muscles, but he didn't quite trust her. There was something cunning about her since the day they met. When the woman finally spoke, he glanced at her for the first time in a long time.*

"Are you ready?"

*Arata nodded in response, then closed his eyes again. When he opened them in a few seconds, he was in a different place. It wasn't what he expected. It was nothing like anything he'd been in before, and he'd seen a lot of unusual things. Everything around him was made of glass. It had neither beginning, nor end. The glass itself wasn't clear so when he tried to run his eyes over it, everything was blurry. For a moment, Arata couldn't catch his balance. The glass floor seemed to move. This started to bother him, but he finally heard a voice in his head. It was Izanami.*

"Take a deep breath and calm down. This room works based on your emotions. If something disturbs your peace, you will not be able to stand your ground. Arata, it is your emotional approach that was a final nail in your coffin way too many times. So this is your trial. Tell what you would normally say. Don't even think were you are right now."

***


*Arata took a few deep breaths, which calmed the ground under his feet. He knew he needed to relax and show that he could handle his emotions. It was crucial for him to come to Burning Sky with a clear mind and a good aura. So, as suggested by Izanami, he got down to business. A slight smile appeared on the blonde man's face. With his hands shoved into his pockets, he slowly began to walk forward. While his confident tone of voice echoed across that endless space.*

The rules of this game are like reality...we all think that we have invincible power, but all the actions that take place...are nothing more than the consequences of our previous choices.

*Arata tilted his head back and a slight snort escaped his mouth. A moment later, he moved his eyes to look ahead of him again.*

What if? A statement that often pops up in our heads when something goes wrong. Constant thought about how you could have handled the situation, so as not to be left with the bitterness of defeat. The endless mess in your head about what could have been done better and where the fault lies. Is it my stupidity? Or the guilt of others? Could it be a matter of luck? Or maybe unavoidable karma? It's a convenient way to justify your failures. And personally, I sometimes go for that easy solution too, but I quickly tell myself to stop. While 'what if' can help us get to the root of the problem, I feel like it's a bit like giving up on yourself. It is like blaming yourself that the choices we made weren't good enough, just because it didn't work out, but we forget that circumstances also play an important factor. So we can never know what led the wrong way. And I feel that no matter what you do, you should fight for what you believe in. Even if it seems ridiculous to the whole world, you should hold on to it as if your life depended on it. That's my philosophy. That's why, I didn't listen to others when they told me I was making a mistake. From all sides I heard voices advising me against throwing myself into the deep water, but I completely pushed them away. Regardless of these warnings, I just entered Clash from the number one spot...and I was left with nothing. I believed that I was able to do it and the closer it got to the end, this faith grew in my body. So you can imagine what a heartbreaking moment it was to hit the floor. Existential pain that tore me apart was unbearable. I couldn't believe it was over, cause it seemed like a bad dream. For a while I felt like Icarus approaching the sun, and before I realized it my wings began to melt and I fell into the endless abyss. So there can be only one conclusion from this. Starting from number one spot was a suicide mission. And now everyone will tell me that they warned me. The thing is that, I took into account that such consequences could happen to me. It was a ride or die from the start. It could have either worked or totally fuck me over and unfortunately I had bad ending for my cinderella story. Still, if I had to choose again, my decision would not change. I would still enter first, because I believe in who I am.

Even if this turn of events made the victory slip through my fingers, it also showed a lot of other things. It proved who is the toughest competitor in OWA. Even if it didn't give me anything in the end, I still set a record. The longest Iron Man run in the history of this company. So I technically did something that no one else has done before. Yet, I'm not satisfied. Even after so many days, I still feel bitterness and frustration. I feel like shit and I want to scream like a child, because of how much it hurts me. It was supposed to be different. I shouldn't be in this position today. I shouldn't have challenged for a belt at Burning Sky. I should be OWA World Champion right now and this is a truth that not everybody wants to accept.

Our little meeting on Kingdom was somewhat amusing. You really tried to act like you run this place, DT, but let's be honest. Your days as champion are numbered from the moment this match got announced. Say that I'm arrogant. Call me a fool, but we all know you can't handle me or Chris. Let alone...both at once. Sure, you won a fucking Clash of the Titans. An achievement that you overuse to gain your credibility as a new champ. And partly I understand that, because it sounds like something that brings nothing but glory. The thing is, you've asked one important question. Do we know why you won Clash? Of course, I fucking do, but I doubt you'll like my answer. Do you really want to hear it? So let me fucking speak. You didn't win because you are all mighty. You didn't get that belt, because you're the best of the best in this damn brand. The reason why you are standing here with this championship is...because we underestimated you. None of us even considered that you can outlast everyone, DT. Sure, you are a big guy. We know you are in this business for a long time so you have some experience. So why didn't any of us care enough to consider you to be a bigger threat? It's easy. Because for your whole life, you were nothing more but a side player. You were a support to Raivo' crazy ideas. And watching how he acted on the way to Clash, even though he thought he was worth more than you. Even if it was never officially said by him. Raivo was your guiding light. For all this time, you were his pet project and that is the only reason why the world of OWA ever heard of some called DT the Ruler.

The truth isn't always pleasant, but you don't have to be too smart to see things. There's a reason why your career started coming back to life when you two take on doing business together, even though you've been in this industry much longer. And honestly, DT. As long as I appreciate your effort, because I don't think you're a bad wrestler by any means. You are still better than many on this roster, but you are not a superstar, who can lead this company. We can't be put in the same category. You are not born to be in such a difficult and important spot. Why? Because you're just too bland. All your personality is built on touching tips with Raivo and Maggall, but this is where it ends. Yet, you act like you are above everybody else. Because you have that title for five minutes? What a fucking joke. Do you really think it gives you a right to try to throw us around? Fuck no. Your time precious? Fantastic, so is mine. You are bored of our arguments and think we are childish? Yet, you are the one throwing tables like an idiot. This is how you are going to prove your strength? This is how you want to stand out from the crowd, cause you know that when you are with me and Chris you can't have the spotlight? This is not the first time, when the belt gives someone prestige, not the other way around. And this is pathetic! You can argue with me all you want, but you are as insignificant as your run in the Clash. Sure, you won, but you didn't leave anything worth remembering. Yet, you have the nerve to shit on Chris that he couldn't hold your heavy ass anymore. His back had to fucking give up, not because he is weak. But because he is half of your damn weight, yet he showed that he has more strength than you ever did. All that talk about being a big guy, but you barely manage to get one elimination. So it seems like you are a good example of a dog who barks a lot, but is too scared to bite. You want to hear what I think about your victory? It is nothing more than luck, DT. And as much as I hate it, it is something you also have to have, but it eventually runs out.

You can't rely on such a fragile thing, nor can you rely on your muscles. I know you started your career fifty years ago, when people believed that being a big sweaty guy is the way, but we are past it. These days you need something more. You need to be unique and this is something you have to be born with. You won't get it for claiming to be a victim of society and this is what I hated Gaijin Killer for. So stop acting like the whole world is against you, DT. You didn't even get a bad enough treatment for the crimes you made. I believe in second chances, but we shouldn't forget that you were ready to help Havoc destroy the world. Why? Because of your victim mentality. Because Raivo decided for both of you that this is your plan for today...like it was PHoneas and Ferb episode. Eventually you changed the sides, but you guys have to stop acting like it was your choice. You didn't change your mind. Havoc turned his back on you. You became useless so he threw you are. So you had no other choice, but to come back to ass with tails between your legs. You are nothing more than a cowards, DT. And this company deserves something better. OWA Championship needs to come back to its prime, but you are not someone who can handle this. You don't have the backbone to carry this company on your back. Ruler this…Ruler that…but you were not even good enough to handle your imperium of drugs.

Triple threats are like a bad omen to me, although I don't put much care into superstitions. However, there is no denying that I do not have much luck with them, usually the situation was a bit different. Every time it was the whole world against me. Two random people weirdly teaming, so that they make sure I don't win shit. But now, I have a friendly face in the corner, yet it doesn't mean shit to me. I'll say this straight away to clarify something, because I'm sure DT will complain about this. I don't want anybody to think that this match is some Frontline vs poor new champion bullshit. I love Chris, but I always thought this teaming up shit was stupid. It is confusing and only hurts your feelings, when someone breaks the so-called deal. We are grown ass men and we understand that only one of us can leave the ring with a belt. Why would we act like the power of friendship will solve problems that can't have a happy ending for both of us. Situations like this should be purely competitive, right Chris? And I know that you are like this. Sometimes I even feel like you are going too hard. You seem to care about all of us, but when your eyes are on the prize, your morality boundaries are a bit blurred. You become cold and focused on your greed, not paying attention to people around you. Honestly? I am a little familiar. The thing is, sometimes that competitiveness makes you blind. You start treating everyone like they are your enemies, and I wonder if it's all because of emotions, or maybe you're starting to show your real face. What am I talking about? I don't have to look far...All this time you believed everything I said. You told people they should be more open minded with me. However, when the time for a Clash came, you began to have doubts. You tried to undermine my accolades and suggest that I am nothing more than a fraud. And it was like another knife stabbed in my back, but whatever. I will deal with that, because I know how hurt you are. It was a difficult few years for you, so you desperately want to prove you are not dependent on demonic power. And there's no one who understands you better than me, Chris. We are on the same boat. We both have something important to prove. The stigma that we have been wearing for so long must finally be removed, or we will die with regret. And because we're in such a similar situation, I feel like it makes you even more aggressive when you have to go against me. You simply to prove your point, before I can do it with mine and this is childish. But so are a lot of things I did. But why am I even saying all this? Because we didn't sacrifice so much to wage some civil war now, Chris. We should be calm and united, but that doesn't stop us from minding our own business. I am not asking you to work with me, but I don't want you to treat me like your enemy. I was always your friend. I was always on your side. This dimension or the other, I never had doubt in you. So all I want you to do is to repay me the same way. Otherwise, lost in this race after redemption, you will lose everyone and everything you worked for, my friend.

*With each step he takes, the glass walls get narrower and narrower, so that Arata can almost touch it with his fingertips. Though their reflections are blurred, you can see the faint silhouette of DT the Ruler on one side, and Christopher Sabertooth on the other.*

I regretted many things the night after the Clash. I suffered a lot knowing that it could have ended differently. The thought that I could have been the one to hold the OWA Championship high was killing me from inside. I was in such an annoying state of mind that...For a few days I couldn't forgive myself that I couldn't break through the glass ceiling that night. But I also made a promise to myself. The moment I have another chance...I will turn the whole building into shreds of glass.

*At this point, Arata with his fingers touches two glass walls, which unexpectedly shatter into tiny pieces.*

VaeVictisBD, Christopher Sabertooth, Scott Oasis, Alyssa Grace, 'Don' Hendrix, DT The Ruler and Lazarus Arjen have spoken. It’s such good shit!

VaeVictisBD
Re: OWA Promos
Post July 28th 2023, 9:00 am by VaeVictisBD
OWA Promos AWJR

I'M SORRY MS. JAXON (OH) I AM FOR REEEEEAL.
DIDN'T MEAN TO MAKE YOUR HUSBAND CRY.

It hit in flashes behind his closed eyes. His consciousness slipped away and was resuscitated as visions from the mind blinded him with images, an intense phantom pain, and eventually, Arthur Wakefield jolted upright in the center of his bed. His heart pounded against his chest as beads of sweat fell from his forehead while he struggled momentarily to catch his breath. “The fuck… The fuck was that?” He gasped with each breath, becoming reacquainted with the taste and burning sensation from the whiskey on his breath that left an unpleasant taste in his mouth. The room was dimly lit, the moon's soft glow seeping through the curtains of his small studio apartment. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he became aware of his surroundings, in this sudden uncertainty of what he just felt needed it all set in exactly where he was. When he was. The fact he was even alive. Confusion mingled with this sudden anxiety as he leaned his back against the headboard as he tried to regain his composure. It felt like there was an immense pressure was building up inside his skull, wanting to explode. For a moment, he believed that his hedonistic new life in the year 2023 was starting to catch up to him. All the drinking, the extreme sports, the getting with girls he couldn’t for the life of him remember the name of. Even in this very moment, his bed was occupied by two women he didn’t even recall speaking to, much less bringing back to his Sacramento loft.

He suddenly felt claustrophobic. He tore the sheets off himself as he tried to find his feet as a wave of nausea hit him the moment he became vertical. He staggered his way towards the off-shoot bathroom as one of his conquests of the night had awoken to the sound of him catching himself on the bedside table.
“Are you alright, Arty?” her voice was laced with tired confusion. Arthur paid it no mind as he immediately grabbed at the bathroom sink basin with the sound of his heart pounding in his ears. He turned on the running water, repeatedly splashing it into his face as he tried to shock his system back to a resting pace.

What was happening to him?

Did he just experience a bad dream?

Or had he seen a premonition?

Whatever it was, it felt a little too real for his liking. It was easy to dismiss it as a simple bad dream, not one to consider himself a lucid dreamer, his psychosis had never afflicted him with something so vivid before. Even as he stared into his less-than-complimentary reflection, he was trying to piece together the fragments of what he had just experienced. It was the screams that came to him first, ones of terror — sounded all too real to be ignored. He recalled visions of lightning flashing against a darkened sky, and struck the earth with an intense white light which blinded and disoriented. He then remembered the feeling of heat, blistering against his skin. That’s right, he had seen it. A yawning portal that showed hell itself to him. But it wasn’t open for him. No. No, it took someone. Who was it? Whose hand reached out for him before the portal consumed them entirely? It was too extraordinary to have been anything but a dream… but why did it feel so real?

He looked at his hands as they trembled. Nothing had ever given him this feeling before. He had never felt inflicted by anything that even resembled fear since he had traveled back from the future. That’s when he noticed it. His upper wrist on his right arm had hypertrophic scarring.

That wasn’t there the night before…


TO BE CONTINUED…


— — —

"I feel very at home in this sinners' paradise.

A place where every risk has reward — gambling everything you can afford to lose.

A place where a man with nothing to lose is king.

I’ve been having something of an existential crisis as of late. Struggling with my sense of identity, what’s expected of me — where everything I have done and everything I am meant to be all leads. Something we seem to have in common, members of this Tribunal. On one hand, we have one of the more forgettable, complacent names on the OWA World Championship’s five-year lineage, so easily overshadowed and has been cherry-picking their moments to come back and remind people that they were, in fact, once an impact player. On the other, you have Jason Long who is also there I guess. Though, it’s nothing new for him being “there” when it has been the story of his career. That’s a little thing called subverting expectation and Aria Jaxon, I can’t say in good faith knowing your history this side of you would eventually rear its ugly head. It’s nonetheless disappointing. After all, you said it yourself; Grand Slam champion and Hall of Famer. A lot to be proud of, to say the least. A career that has so many feathers in the cap, afforded you to retire in one of the most respectful ways one can in such a cutthroat industry, and yet here you are — an absolute glutton telling themselves its just one more fix as they crawl back for just a little bit more. I said it wants to Chad, I’ll say the same to you; attention is one addictive little drug and a ring chaser has to ring chase no matter how loaded her fingers are. This is really what you want to do with your future — raising your child and equally raising your deadbeat bum of a husband? Fighting the likes of a school shooter turn immediate flaker Rex Maddox? 1023415001727369246 Slumming it with midcard mafioso Jason Long? 1023415001727369246 Girl, no. Say it ain’t so. Went from the Queens of Wrestling decorated in gold to dipping their toe back in the pool, trying to relive the peak — and there are fucking air quotes around that word — of SSW in Jiffy Lube Vuitton. Shit, if you wanted to drown so severely you could have convinced Mstislav for another one of his umpteenth career revivals.

Or have you decided to trade up to… hold on a second — Pfft, hahahaha!

— trade up to the next whitest man who could actually win a World Championship sometime this decade?

Sorry, that was funny to me on multiple levels.

It immediately brings into question what the mission statement of this Tribunal is. Are they just reaching out to any addict that is in desperate need of a fix? Craven attention whores in need of being treated like they’re still in the prime of their youth, in spite of their riding on a wave of reluctance of the modern standard? In that case, they must have picked your new running mate fresh from the vine, and you see him as a worthy ally? My fair lady, I am guilty as charged of having a thing for the Thotyssey standard of lasses. I admit to that with zero shame. But Savannah Sunshine herself hasn’t been run through nearly as much as how many times that man has been fucked through his entire career — and given your history with the former, raises the question of what you find as worthy with your new strange bedfellow? Not the most flattering look for you. Then again, you don’t care much for that now do you? Because let’s be completely honest with ourselves for a moment; do you want to relive that arrow where you were standing on top of the world as SSW World Champion? Want to feel the rush of that infamy, being the crown jewel of a company that died miserable death time and time again? That’s the person you want to be — the same person that left EAW with sour grapes and had people kissing your feet wanting you to be the poster child. Well, I had to break it to you, that version of you wasn’t that good then, and it doesn’t matter how neon you dye your hair, it’s not good product now. I should know, I’m constantly reminded the patriarch of my family was an old standard to be lost to time. But he waved the OWA flag no matter what. You waved Phantom Troupe, a brilliant sinking ship anyone has tied their anchor to, and you only became peak when you dropped the very thing you’re trying to relive.

This is all a gamble for a little more padding on the Hall of Fame career.

What difference is a little mud going to make?

Now I’m curious as to how far you’re willing to drag it through.

Your morality means nothing to me. Unlike Krieger, I’m not trying to sell disappointment in you. Something I learned quickly coming back to this timeline, not everyone is the shining beacon they were believed to be. People have been telling tales of legend while being vague in the detail, the benefit of having some flaws lost in the process. My timeline once believed The Frontline were the heroes of our time through the falling of The Golden Dawn, but they only provoke greater evils than that. The fables of Aria Jaxon are no exception. Remembered for the peaks, not the valleys — and I’m looking at a valley girl if I’ve ever seen one. The point is, I’m not trying to pretend I give a shit at all about what direction you’re driving your career towards, whatever benefits this midlife crisis of a partnership is doing for you — all the same, I was trained to handle the wars of genociders, eldritch horrors, the wrath of the gods themselves. I’m not intimidated by whoever is handling that AA meeting you call Tribunal. I don’t care who your friends with. I don’t care who you’re trying to be, I know who you are, and, given how little you had to say about me, I can tell that isn’t some mutual intelligence. And given our upcoming venue, it’s safe to say who you are is a nice stack of money on the table. You said it best, you’re a diamond. Your career is valuable, your legacy desired — Aria Jaxon is a lady with value to her name — You’re forever. But every match, every moment under those bright lights becomes a gamble to Hall of Fame career. While Kruger wants to appeal to honor, all due respect to my brotha, that isn’t a quality I adopted from the old Wakefield gene pool.

No honor among thieves, Aria — this time it’s not a fruity network show.

Victory over you is cashing in on diamond quality before the value tanks.

I care only about collecting, and there ain’t nothing I’m not willing to do for the bag.

And I don’t plan to fumble it like our notorious friend Jason Long. Truth be told, I was a little surprised you even bothered to put in an effort prior to our match. Last Kingdom, could’ve sworn I’d have been afforded your trademark deal of selective participation. But I’ve made mistakes before. Jokes on me what differentiates us though is I actually learn from them. Can you say the same? Ride out of the shadows of the Spartans Championship, suicide in getting in the shadows of the racially charged flavor of the month in FTM — now right back into a new shadow that opened its arms and offered you charity. And they say I come baggage. There are a lot of reasons not to like you, Jason — a Long one at that (Fucking hell, my wordplay game is on point today). But there is a list far more long for reasons to not respect you. Your integrity is a joke. Your conviction is fake. Every statement that comes from your lips, every promise a coin flip if you’d be able to uphold it — and more often than not you call it and get it wrong. You became a world champion, defeated Michael Bishop to end one of the most prominent reigns in the company's history, and accumulated a valuable addition to that lineage… with a victory over Jacob Striker. Jacob. Fucking. Striker. What, were the Landersons too busy challenging for the other world championships with tweets that fall on deaf ears so you had the next best thing? And you still needed a helping hand?! How many have gotten you here, able to say you’re a former world champion, and immediately realize they backed the horse with a broken leg? You lost the championship to Stark. Notorious World Championship match bag fumbler Stark. Well, at least you obtained a status afterward. And now, what’s the deal? Do you have something else whispering sweet nothings in your ear? More people willing to invest in you, tell you you’ve still got what it takes, and dangle that ever-tempting carrot on a stick to cross the finish line?

I can’t tell if that speaks more to your foolishness, or theirs.

Either they’re the most desperate people with eyes on the product, or you are.

Invest in a man who has lost everything, hoping for that miracle pull to catch lightning in a bottle.

Perhaps, longer than any other list, your mistakes are plentiful. The self-proclaimed Last Breathing Mercenary has choked on his own self hype more than I think anyone else. Sure, you win the little matches. You win the fleeting moments that people will forget. Nowadays, that’s really all you have to line your pockets. You have a little win over me, but I ask you what that will matter when you lose right after? When that wave of momentum can’t carry you far enough? I’ll let history tell you how little that matters; because you’re in the ring with the Spartans Champion again and this time, no one has you on the forefront of their mind to get it. Do you have a move called “kill your masters” in your arsenal, yet look who wasted no time serving some new ones? They could feel entire gaming libraries with how many times you play yourself, and I have no doubt in my mind you’re going to say that has changed. You’re going to overpromise that Jason Long is on the cusp of excellence. But just like becoming world champion, you’re going to under deliver. Our match didn’t fall under my priority because of this pattern, and you caught me off my focus. This time, the stakes are higher and it’s actually worthy of my attention. An odd commodity for you nowadays, I’m sure. Truly, I feel sorry for you. A puppet of a man who has forgotten the strings that tug him, dictate his every direction, make him dance to whatever rhythms they please — all the while thinking you’ll become a real mercenary if you wish upon a star. Well, unless they decide to remake that particular movie, you’re shit out of luck.

Doesn’t that feel familiar. Watching other men thrive where you couldn’t.

Telling yourself you had what it takes when another man holds the prize.

I should be thankful to your penchant for failure — I didn’t want to be full Irish anyway.  

I’m putting my focus where it needs to be. What advances my career. What lines my pockets. What becomes my glorious purpose. As far as I’m concerned, whatever this Tribunal isn’t even on the level of what I have been prepared for, and it’s not doing itself any favors rolling out a cavalry of tired women past their prime and a man whose prime became a joke to history. I’m unimpressed. Nonetheless, I see what’s on the table and I’ll be fucking damned if I don’t walk away with it. Ever since I got here, I’ve been pushed away from every opportunity and forced to be a spectator, second fiddle at best. I leave sin city with some skin in the game.

I leave with a win over Aria Jaxon and Jason Long lining my pocket.

And they leave with my name carved into their careers.

And I’ll bleed it for everything it’s worth."

Christopher Sabertooth, Alyssa Grace, Darkane, Elijah Hampton, 'Don' Hendrix, DT The Ruler, Lazarus Arjen and Noah Krieger have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Christopher Sabertooth
Burning Sky Promo 1
Post July 27th 2023, 3:10 pm by Christopher Sabertooth
OWA Promos Cool_t34



“THE WINNER OF THE 2023 CLASH OF THE TITANS AND THE NEEEEW OWA WORLD CHAMPION! DT! THE RULER!”

DT The Ruler is on the top turnbuckle, raising the OWA World Championship in celebration. The camera slowly pans out to the man lying on the concrete floor at ringside. Christopher Sabertooth was in pain but nothing was going to hurt more than seeing someone else celebrate a title victory that should have been his. Pulling back on his hair with a dejected expression, Chris sits back up. 

People in the front row tried to cheer him on but Chris was emotionless. He limped back up to his feet and slowly made his way to the ramp as Pyro shot up to the sky to celebrate the ascension of The Ruler. Chris stepped through the curtains to find some of his closest friends and family waiting for him. They clap for him after the performance he put on as Hana embraces him. 

Jeff pats Chris on his back, trying to cheer him up. He understood that losses can take a toll on a person, especially after a narrow loss as such.

“You did great, Chris. You proved to the world that even now, five years in, you’re in your prime. Nobody can ever doubt your greatness. You almost had it man-- Shit happens.”

Chris was holding back any emotion so far but hearing those words from his best friend brought the passion out of him. Frustratedly, he punched the wall next to him before sliding down to his knees. He wanted to scream. He wanted to let it all out. 

“I understand how you feel right now, Chris…”

Chris immediately interjects.

“Do you, Jeff? It’s easy for you to say that being a former Clash of the Titans winner. There’s nobody in the fucking crowd doubting your greatness for a second. There’s nobody ever questioning your legitimacy as a top champion. You did it all!... All I ever wanted was to feel the same way. All I wanted was to become OWA Champion by merit. I wanted to eliminate all doubters-- And I failed, once again, at the final hurdle. You DON’T understand that, Jeff.”

“Don’t forget what happened the first time I won the OWA World Championship. Don’t forget about the time that I failed to make good on the title opportunity I earned by winning the Clash. I’ve dealt with my losses before--”

“You have. That’s the difference. You didn’t beat Bull Connors but the next year, you won it all. You were the hero of the story. You were the champion of the people. Havoc screwed you out of your moment of glory… BUT HAVOC TOOK THAT AWAY FROM ME TOO! And unlike you, I haven’t been able to make good on my losses. Even today, I was as close as you can get to winning the whole thing. But when it mattered the most, my back gave out. I failed myself once again. I am tired of being second, Jeff. I am tired of being told that I needed my worst nightmare to be worth anything in this business.”

“It’s not true, Chris! You’ve done more than most will ever do in their whole career. You’re one hell of a wrestler and a bonafide champion at heart. I am sure this isn’t the end, Chris. You will make good of your chances too. I know it.”

WHEN?! When the fuck will I do that? I have been waiting TWO FUCKING YEARS. I took the backseat for everybody else because I didn’t think I was worthy enough for a second chance. I came third last year and wasn’t sad because Mike got the job done. I don’t know how much longer I have in this business-- Tonight was my best chance. And I came second. That’s the story of my life. Nobody remembers who came second, Jeff. You wouldn’t understand that. Your name is synonymous with OWA. With Murder Inc. With Frontline. You’re the face of it all. I am just standing by your side… waiting for my turn that will never come.”

“Chris--”

NO! I don’t want to hear anything from you or anybody here. I don’t need your pity. I don’t need your pointless condolences. Just… leave me alone.”

Chris brushes past Jeff as Hana looks worried for her husband. Jeff reassures her that Chris’ wounds will heal with time.

-x-


Two Weeks Later

“It’s official! DT The Ruler will defend his OWA World Championship at Burning Sky against Arata Asakura and Christopher Sabertooth!”

The announcement that Chris had been waiting for. One more chance. He kept rewatching the moment Scott Oasis announced his name as the next challenger for the title, along with Arata Asakura. The past two weeks had been difficult, trying to deal with the loss at Clash of the Titans.

As Chris looked into the camera, there was a weird sense of calmness about him. 

Second Place. The curse that never ends. 

In my teens, I was one of the best prospects in amateur wrestling in America. Varsity. Ended up with the silver medal.

Decided to pursue my passion for professional wrestling… Lost in my debut match. 


In my first PPV in the infancy of OWA, I had my fingers on the Spartan’s Championship until I didn’t. Had that moment stolen from me at the final moment as Scotty Adams came flying in and grabbed the belt away from my grasp.

Five years in, I can’t seem to get over this curse. At Clash of the Titans, I should have won. I had DT in a precarious position. I could have pushed him over and ended the debate on my legacy. Instead, I chose to make a statement. I chose to lift that brick of muscle and drop him on his fucking head-top-- But my body betrayed me. All my life, I was told about things I could and should not do. Don’t overextend. Don’t try to be someone you’re not. These are lessons that I chose to ignore because I didn’t want my life to be defined by these rules. I didn’t want to be limited to what others thought I could be. 

When I heard Lance or the crowd doubt me for a second when I tried lifting DT the second time-- I had to prove them wrong. Turns out, they were right. I should have listened. I should have savored my moment AFTER I had the belt in my hands. 

…If I keep thinking about all the things I could have done differently in life, I’d have to spend the remainder of my life pondering on my mistakes. I was disappointed. I was angry. I wanted to lash out at everybody that stood by me. I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. I was fucking heartbroken… Thinking I had possibly lost my final chance at glory.

But there’s something bittersweet about facing such a devastating loss. I spent the last couple of days thinking about everything I had achieved in my career. Maybe the second place wasn’t too bad. Despite all the self-doubt, I am proud of who I am today. All the hardships that I had to endure shaped me into the man I am. I am a proud husband. A proud friend. I have made memories that I will never forget for the rest of my life. If Clash of the Titans was the final chance I had of reaching the top, it’s kinda ironic that I end up finishing second. Time is a circle, after all. 

It wouldn’t be a Christopher Sabertooth story otherwise. 

That is what I told myself until Scott Oasis presented me with a lifeline. I didn’t expect this call. I didn’t expect to be rewarded for coming second… But I would be dumb to pass up on this opportunity. Kingdom presents Burning Sky—an OWA classic.

DT The Ruler will defend his championship against Arata Asakura and Chris Sabertooth. Some might call it the biggest test of his illustrious career. 

I’ve got quite the competition.

Evil or not, it seems like I can’t have enough of Arata Asakura. Every step of the way, Arata is always there, giving me my toughest challenge. I respect Arata-san for his competitiveness. Even at Clash, Arata chose to enter at number one and nearly made it to the end. He set records on that night. Despite all that, we’re in the same boat. We lost. That’s all there is to it. 

Some see this match as a litmus test for DT The Ruler. To see if he fluked his way into being the champion. We all know that the prime years of DT are behind him. And yet, father time was betrayed on the night of the Clash. DT used every single ounce of energy he had to get the win. 

I was wrong about the FTM. I thought that when it came down to it, Raivo wouldn’t be able to put his ambition to the side to see DT flourish. But on that night, Raivo came back into the ring to celebrate with his brother. I respect that, despite my hatred for the man. FTM is a lot stronger than it appeared to be. Though, the real cracks might show up once it’s down to a one on one contest. Raivo has a chance to seal his ticket for Final Destination at Burning Sky against Chad Ecclestone. I am sure the world wants to see DT The Ruler go against his FTM brother at the biggest show.

Fortunately for DT, I will bring him out of that conundrum. I don’t want their bond to suffer because of a piece of gold. FTM deserves to stay together. So, I will ease off that burden by taking the OWA World Championship. 

I know that DT is going to rub it in my face about how my back gave out when it mattered. That I crumbled under the pressure. Well… He’s not wrong. My back did give out. It had been weakened after carrying this company on my back for five years. But don’t worry-- I have been doing my planks to make sure it doesn’t happen again. 

I have to commend DT for having possibly the greatest career resurgence in professional wrestling history. From an afterthought to a world champion in his old age. It’s truly inspiring stuff. He’s got one last run in him for all his fans! As cliche as it sounds, a candle does burn its brightest just before going out. DT’s flame is already flickering and at Burning Sky, I will put that fire out for good. It was a nice little run he got here. Got the Clash win. Got the chance to call himself the world champion again. But this isn’t 2011 anymore! Things will return back to normal and DT will be doing what he does best. Being Raivo’s cheerleader.

I am not discrediting his accomplishment. Not by any means. But don’t get me wrong, I did take him lightly. He may have a physique of an Adonis but I didn’t think that the passion was all there. I believed that Raivo was the only threat that FTM had to offer in the Clash. I fully expected DT to sacrifice himself to save Raivo because there’s more upside to someone as young and gifted as him. And then there was the dastardly Chad Ecclestone. I knew he’d pull off some cheap tricks to get the win. I saw that stunt double coming from a mile away. As for Arata? He already shot himself in the foot by coming out first. No matter how good Arata is, he was bound to make a mistake at some point. But DT? I felt comfortable being in that ring when it was just down to the two of us. 

That turned out to be my biggest mistake. DT WAS a world champion before. He WAS the franchise player. He WAS a dominant force in the world of wrestling. No matter how many roids he pops in his veins, I never expected him to get out of Raivo’s shadow. If I had known better, I would have pushed his ass out of the ring instead of trying to pull off some incredible feat of strength. I was stupid and I paid the price for it. But I won’t make that mistake again. I won’t see DT as Raivo’s bodyguard. I won’t see DT as a man who is leaching off Raivo’s initial success to be relevant in the company.

DT had no choice but to accept this challenge. But deep down, he knows that this was probably his last hurrah. He knows that it doesn’t get any better than the Clash. Burning Sky will be the end of the Ruler. His reign would be brought down before he could ever ascend to the next level. I will make a transitional champion out of the Ruler. And then I will lay waste to his so-called brother or that phony actor at Final Destination.

Why? Because I realized in these past couple of days that acceptance was only a key to finding peace in life. I accepted the fact that I would never get another chance to be the top champion. I accepted my fate of being forever in second place. But life gave me another chance! Just getting this opportunity itself was enough for me to realize that I was breaking my only rule. I don’t live by the definition of who people think I am. I am Christopher Sabertooth. I am TIRED of being second. I am TIRED of coming close but not close enough. I am TIRED of being doubted by everybody about what I am capable of. I was the best wrestler in the world before Havoc. And I will get there once again after him. Havoc won’t be the end of my legacy. Havoc won’t be the asterisk next to my name. I will do what I should have done at the Clash. I WILL LIFT DT THE RULER AND DROP HIM ON HIS FUCKING HEAD TILL HE CAN’T CONTINUE! And I will savor that moment for the rest of my life as I raise the OWA World Championship for myself.

Jeff got a fitting end to his big story. Michael did too. And Arata? You have more than redeemed yourself already in the eyes of the people.


I let everybody go before me because I didn’t think I was worthy enough. I hadn’t contested for the world championship since I regained control over my body until this Clash. I bid my time, waiting to prove myself. It took years of healing for me to realize what I am worth. Clash was the final nail in the coffin. It was the moment I finally woke up. So I thank DT for showing me that I don’t need to wait on anybody else. It’s my turn now. 

When The Ruler was at home, reminiscing about his dead career, I was here busting my ass every week. Before the Self-Made Man ever showed up in the world of pro wrestling, I was here doing what I do best. I have given EVERYTHING including my fucking life to this place. It’s about time I get something in return. Arata-san, I am sorry. I will be selfish today. You lived in a world where people cherished you for who you are. You reached the pinnacle of the business. Sure, it was all taken away from you. But there’s no sense of self-doubt bringing you down. 

While I do care about what people think about me-- I care more about how I think about myself. I KNOW that I am good enough. Hell, a lot of people have told me the same. But I need the gold to match the compliment. I need to validate my own beliefs that I didn’t need a monster to do my bidding.

How can DT talk about my story being a chapter that ended long ago at his big age when it contradicts everything that happened since his return to pro wrestling? Without OWA, nobody even KNEW of DT’s story. Your story CAN NOT begin before I see the end of mine. A story as old as this company. Kingdom was MY show and you’re simply a guest feature. A lot of capable men and women came after me and they’re nowhere to be seen today. I have stuck around this bitch because I care. And I care enough to finish what I started! 

You can’t brag about beating Stark when his reign as a champion was a mistake, to begin with. I’ve never seen anybody fold instantly under pressure like Stark did at the Clash. Frankly, if that happened to me, I wouldn’t dare show up and demand a second chance.

DT, this is going to be a lot harder than winning the Clash. One misstep is all it takes and I made mine when I didn’t just throw your limp body out of the ring. But now? We’re going to war. No matter what you put me through, I am going to raise my shoulder before the three counts. Shit, even if I die in that ring, I will be kicking out just so that you don’t win. 

Arata is a distraction for me. Whatever Arata wanted, he got it at Clash. He set the endurance record. He had the most eliminations. All very impressive. But he got out of the before the final four. Frankly speaking, why is Arata in this match apart from this impressive performance he had? DT and I were there till the very last second of it. There was nothing separating us. As much as I respect Arata, he can find something else to do at Final Destination. 

My body may have betrayed me before and there’s only so much I can do to fix that…

But my mind hasn’t faltered. I NEED to win.

The Ruler of the world will crumble under my feet… featuring Arata Asakura. 

That’s the name of the story.

I will crawl my way out of the second place to the very top.

While DT only has one way to go.

Retirement… or six feet under. 

VaeVictisBD, Aria Jaxon, Scott Oasis, Alyssa Grace, Elijah Hampton, 'Don' Hendrix, DT The Ruler and have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Aria Jaxon
Re: OWA Promos
Post July 27th 2023, 1:36 pm by Aria Jaxon
RIP ME OUT THE PLASTIC, I BEEN ACTIN’ BRAND NEW. | LAS VEGAS, NEVADA.


Even at night, the Las Vegas desert heat could be absolutely stifling.

It was nearly midnight, yet the thermometer still clocked in around a sweltering ninety degrees. Still, the sky-high July temperatures or the fact that it was a weeknight did little to dampen the spirits of a city like this one. The lights of the resort casinos on the Strip beamed brightly. Tourists streamed along the sidewalks, taking in the sights and popping into one casino after another to try their luck. It was the perfect place for the risk-takers of the world. Those who wanted to take charge of their destiny and turn the tides of whatever they had going on, knowing that all it took was a little luck – and a little nerve – to change everything.

This was the scenery over which Aria Jaxon stood, looking over the Strip and the Las Vegas Valley stretching into the sandy distance. She stared through the huge window of her forty-third-story penthouse suite at Mandalay Bay, a champagne flute resting in one of her manicured hands. Elsewhere in the suite, Aren and Arianna slept soundly, but she had too many thoughts swirling around in her head to consider sleeping just yet. She chuckled dryly as she raised the flute to her lips and took a sip.

“You know, the last time someone stood in a window in a high-roller suite in this hotel and looked out over the Strip without the greatest intentions…a bunch of people had a really bad night. Don’t worry, though. Shooting a bunch of strangers having fun at a yeehaw ass festival is white people shit, and that’s not why I’m in town. I’m not out to ruin a bunch of people’s fun-filled evenings. The misery I’m doling out will be much more…targeted. I’ve only got my sights on Noah Krieger and the end result of generations of Wakefields refusing to figure out what the fuck a Plan B is.”

“While nobody’s had the balls to ask me straight up, I’ve heard the whispers in the halls. I’ve seen the posts on social media. “Why, Aria, why? Jason Long, of all people? How dare you lay a finger on our flavor-of-the-week hero Noah Krieger!” At first, I laughed. I told myself that I didn’t owe anyone an explanation. I’d read through a few posts to entertain myself and re-watch the footage of me dismantling that walking grease-stain Rex Maddox to entertain myself even further. Watching Kingdom back, I realize that my expression might’ve been hard to read at that moment. You just see me standing there, watching the bloody remnants of that poor excuse of a man being carted off by the medical staff, never to be seen again. I don’t know how I kept it from bubbling up to the surface right then and there, but I felt…jubilation. Complete and utter joy.”

“Believe it or not, it wasn’t one of those situations where I took satisfaction in someone else’s suffering. At least, not entirely. I still maintain that bodying that man was little more than a means to an end. What really excited me was that I’d finally put all the pieces together. With that win – decisive as it may have been, over a less-than-desirable opponent – everything seemed to finally click in my mind. The fog that hung heavy over me lifted when I heard that final bell. That win was so much more than just a W in the correct column. Through that bloody, brutal victory, I cracked the code.”

“Whether I wanted to admit it before or not, there’s a connection. The definition of insanity is to do the same thing over and over again, only to expect the same result. You’d have thought that losing back-to-back championship matches upon my return would’ve been enough to wake me up. I kept believing that if I just kept trying, if I just kept my head down, if I rode this “veteran who’s happy to be here” bullshit until the wheels fell off, that fortune would smile upon me. But no. The losses kept rolling in, and the consensus was either that A.) I was washed beyond all repair, or that B.) I was still doing perfectly fine, I had nothing to worry about, and people were more than happy to sing my praises based on the Hall of Fame clout alone. It’s all lies. It’s not time for me to be put out to pasture. Far from it. But if I wanted this run to mean something, I had to fit all the puzzle pieces together. It was on me to figure out what was missing. It’s not an issue of skill; I’ll scream that I’m the GOAT from the rooftops and kill anyone who disagrees with me. It was an issue of mindset. Yes, I’m the greatest wrestler to ever step foot in this company, but I was coming off of the cushiest time in my life. I was at home enjoying my time with my husband and my baby. I brought all that jubilation back with me when I came back on the scene. I was looking at all this shit with rose-colored glasses. Oh, how quickly I’d forgotten the world I’d left behind…and how cutthroat it could be. Even when I was at my “nicest”, even when all I had to do was breathe to have all those vermin in the audience eating out of the palm of my hand, I hadn’t quite lost touch as badly as I did upon coming back. This shit isn’t a popularity contest. Clout on its own doesn’t win matches or championships. By the same token, a killer instinct won’t accomplish any of that on its own, either…but it’s helped me complete the equation, and oh, how unfortunate that is for anyone that happens to be in my path.”

“The fact that Noah Krieger is now trying to downplay my greatness just reaffirms the belief in my mind that crushing him under my heel is the correct course of action. The funny thing about all of this is that, if I wasn’t involved in all of this, you’d still be kissing my ass just like all of these other newbies. You just couldn’t help but let it slip. However, because Jason and I are facing you and Wakefield, now all of the sudden I’m “nothing special”. That backwards mindset does, in fact, sound like the product of a Chicago public school education, so allow me to clear up something for you – your feelings will do absolutely nothing to change any aspect of this situation – past, present, or future. As for the accomplishments I racked up and the career I had to my name long before anyone even gave a fuck who you were, you crying over my current actions will do nothing to wipe it all away. I’m still a Hall of Famer. I’m still this company’s first-ever Grand Slam Champion. I’d still held world championships on both sides of the Pacific before you were on anyone’s radar. The record books are what they are, sweetheart, and like diamonds – but unlike self-styled heroes such as yourself – they are forever. It’s fine, though. If your assessment is that I’m not worthy of praise, it changes little about the present situation. You think praise from my opponents is the end game? You think that’s what I want? Quite the opposite. If you’re still able to talk after I’ve kicked your teeth down your throat, then I haven’t done my job. I don’t want the competition to kiss my ass, Noah. I either want them quiet or gone.”

“As for the immediate future, well, you and your CATCH Hound buddy will have an L served up to you on a platter, courtesy of Jason and I. Your beef with Jason runs deep, that I do know. The blood there is so bad that it’s practically septic. Your issues with me seem to be a lot more…superficial. A lot of whining about how I need some sense knocked into me and how you’re disappointed with me for taking up arms with someone like him. You know what’s funny? Aside from all of the obvious parties – my husband, Stephanie, whoever – I get the idea he’s the only person so far who’s believed that I could pull myself out of that rut I was in. The losing streak that became fodder for everyone I’ve faced since I came back was either blatantly ignored by people who were starstruck or used as a favorite talking point for everyone who wanted to use me as their ticket to the bigtime. It took a lot for me to reaffirm in my own mind that I was still as great as I’ve always been, and you wanna know the only person who agreed with me? Jason Long. So no, maybe we’re not bound by the same mindless and pointless devotion as you and Wakefield, but at Burning Sky, we’ll be a united front nonetheless.”

“Do I sound like a woman with regrets? Does it sound like I’m second-guessing my decision to align with Jason or kicking you in your thick skull? The only regret that I have is that it’s taken me this long to realize that maybe, I’d reconnected with the wrong version of my former self. Yeah, Krieger, you’re right, being a “hero” was what I was best known for, but maybe the truth was that version of me wouldn’t have survived in this OWA climate…so I adapted. I’m calling back to the days of being the vicious ace of SSW, the merciless leader of the version of the Phantom Troupe that actually mattered. I’m calling on early OWA Aria, the problem that had everyone from authority figures to fellow wrestlers steering clear of the big bad bully stalking the hallways. Your “disappointment” in me shows that you were getting the abridged version of all the stories you were being told. You never really knew me…but you will. The impression that I leave on your wounded heart and the literal impression that my foot leaves on your face will be hard to forget. They’ll be painful reminders of the time that you came at The Queen and missed, but painful lessons are the only ones that really stick, aren’t they? Hey, at least you’ve still got the Spartans Championship to fall back on…for now. Shit, after Burning Sky is over and you’ve lost, maybe I’ll turn my attention there next. It might just be time for me to hold that bitch twice. Don’t get too comfortable.”

“It’s hard to think of a more formidable ally than one who’s quite literally faced death and lived to tell about it. This version of Jason Long feels…different from the one that existed before the latest version of The Great War, but perhaps that’s for the best. Maybe the running theme holding this team together is that the same reality set in for us both at different times – that it can be necessary to sink low and feel lower, only to build yourself back up as something more wicked than ever before. The version of you that emerges from the darkness may invoke the ire from those around you, but who cares? This isn’t about winning hearts or minds. It’s about winning at any cost, one that we’re more than ready to pay. Pass the message along to Wakefield that we’re coming to collect, Krieger.”

VaeVictisBD, Scott Oasis, Alyssa Grace, Elijah Hampton, DT The Ruler, Lazarus Arjen, Noah Krieger and Tyler Kulina have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Noah Krieger
Re: OWA Promos
Post July 27th 2023, 12:32 am by Noah Krieger
OWA Promos Ox1dOmn

BURNING SKY— PROMO #1| SIGH.


“Even with all that I’ve dealt with up to this moment, the trials and errors that have come along the way, it all served a purpose, to create an individual who couldn’t be broken. However, for the most part I’ve been successful in my vigilance, not allowing any other soul to destroy what I’ve desired to create, but yet again, some things simply don’t last forever.”

From a competitive standpoint, taking part in this industry has always been something I’ve never taken for granted, and as someone who has found success because of this particular mindset, there’d be no reason to complain in the slightest — but ignorance is the one thing that can’t be forgotten, and with that, will not be forgiven. For the entirety of my career thus far, I’ve constantly preached of sticking to the skills that you’ve previously mastered, to continue to hone them for the not-so-distant future, and not allowing your mind to fall into the trap of consistent ignorance, but if I were to continue with this method of thinking — I’d only be seen as a hypocrite. There’s one individual who clearly desires success as much as me, who’s shown that he’ll do anything to find the correct route to his own destination, and that’s where the similarities begin to dwindle, isn’t it? While the idea of victory will never escape my mind, the route to our respective destinations always seem to clash, and that’s due to the simple fact that no matter the road I intend to travel upon, the idea of taking the easier path never crosses my mind, not even for a single second. Nonetheless, on the other hand, that tends to be your initial thought process, and continues to be to this day, which has been the story all along, no matter where we collectively travel towards.

Which is why it’s all too fitting that we’ve returned to a state of warfare, because letting go of our past, our previous battles, and all they’ve entailed would mean that you didn’t do everything in your power to escape this reality, that you inevitably failed.  In all honesty, I’m completely aware that you’ll never have the strength or ability to shift your way of thinking, which is what has led me to feel this specific rage inside of my mind, and it resonates from the fact that I somehow didn’t see this one coming. In both of our previous encounters, it was beyond clear that the damage that has been placed within you is impairable, and all that remained was this desire to place torture upon anyone who refused to fall in line, that seemingly didn’t want to roll over for you, which led to a feeling of hatred towards them. Unluckily for you, on that fateful night almost a calendar year ago, you were sharing the squared circle with the one man who wouldn’t do either of those things, and who desired not to torture those around him, but rather to become the best in the world in spite of those that stand in his way. The moment that you chose to not accept this, is the exact moment that led us to an impending war, one where you can’t accept that you’re no longer looked as the ruler of this Kingdom any longer — and that’s my own doing. It might’ve taken longer than initially anticipated, but the statement still reigns true at this current point in time.

You once told me that I’d be nothing more than a bystander, simply watching as excellence occurs in front of my eyes, but here we are, as I’ve proved you wrong time and time again — and that’s what truly drives you insane, isn’t it? I’ve created a career for myself in spite of your words, I remained champion in spite of your own efforts, and kept you from making history along the way. You’ve always been known to feed off of your own selfish manners, never  allowing others' success to continue, you wanted to ensure that your failure to dethrone me was immediately forgotten — and there is only one way you know to accomplish this, and it isn’t to do so yourself. As I’ve said before, I should’ve seen this coming from a mile away, there was absolutely no chance that you’d slither away in silence after such a defeat, and this assumption would be correct, only if it came at an earlier instance. Y’see, the moment after attempting to leave you in my past, to start building a legacy of my own, you proceeded to do what you’re known for, what you’re best at — and that’s sinking me back down to your level. You cost me the opportunity of my career, to overcome one of the current number one contender’s to the OWA World Heavyweight Championship, and in the blink of an eye, the possibility of victory had vanished, and it all was because of you.

Not only do you continue to attempt to ruin what I’ve built in my time away from you, you’ve destroyed my chances to reach greater heights time and time again, whether that was King of the Mountain, Clash of the Titans, or now. It almost seems as if the fight never truly concludes with you, but that isn’t the worst part of it all, as you’ve led this battle close to the heart. I can tell you with full transparency, this weekend at Burning Sky isn’t about the championship that I wear proudly across my waist, it’s now all about protecting an ally from your tyranny. I’ve shown you many times before, I can deal with you on my own, your feeling of hatred is only towards me and I’m aware of this fact, but now that you’ve brought CATCH Hound into this, you’ve created a much bigger issue, one that needs to be dealt with. This never had to involve Arthur, but you don’t know when to quit, and I can promise you — that’ll be the cause of your inevitable downfall, one way or another.

However, this no longer is simply about you, so allow me to shift the point of reference, I’m frankly disappointed. When did it ever become such a shameful thing to be depicted as a hero, Aria? It’s abundantly clear that you’re already not only a legend within this promotion, but the entire industry as well, and instead of using that as a starting point to changing the landscape of this business, you’ve used it to aid this dipshit in his journey to an impossible takeover. Y’know, upon joining this company, I’d have always heard the stories of the ‘great’ Aria Jaxon, the competitor who was always a step ahead of her competition, a multi-time champion who desired to accomplish more, and even with no championship gold around her waist at times, it still seemed as if she was the star of this promotion. However, now having the opportunity to be in your presence, many might assume it’d still be a pleasure, but it’s really the complete opposite in my eyes, you aren’t anything special, and you’re not a superstar of any kind, not after such heinous actions. And don’t get me wrong, you’re still a legend in many of the sport’s eyes, but anyone who’d willingly stand beside such a devil, instead of assisting in his immediate departure, then you’re simply not worth praising, not in this moment in time anyway.

Honestly, I can only imagine the outlandish claims that have been spouted into your mind by Jason, but even with that, there’s still no reason to attempt to change your mind — as you’ve clearly made up your mind, you’ve chosen which side of this battle you intend to assist. Nonetheless, allow me to make this crystal clear, he can spread lies within your mind all he likes, he can paint me as a villain if he so desires, and you can be foolish enough to believe this as the truth, but this doesn’t change the story that has led us to this moment. You’ve willingly chosen to aid him in his pitiful quest to drag not only myself, but the ones who I’ve decided to have to surround me into the deepest depths of hell, and that’s because that’s all he’s ever known. Throughout his tenure within OWA, he’s been unable to fathom the simple reality that failure will occur directly in front of his eyes, but you’re aware of this reality, you’ve experienced it on numerous occasions, and you’ve grown as a competitor due to it, but instead of continuing to do so, you’d rather encourage the negative light on this promotion to spread. There’s no reason to respect this way of thinking, let alone endorse it.

You’ve become an infection to this brand, just like Jason, and I'm here to protect it once more.

Since the very first time I shared the ring with the latter, I promised the world that I’d protect this promotion from negative influences such as Jason Long, those who didn’t believe this sport was worth caring to protect, and now it’s like looking directly into a mirror. Y’see, the man that you’ve decided to support in this specific endeavor, he’s made my life a living hell for longer than I can possibly remember — and for what? All I’ve ever cared about is becoming synonymous with this industry, to be known as the best to ever do it, and at every single corner, he’s pushed me further from proving this truth to be more than a simple reality. However, I proved my worth once-and-for-all when he wasn’t able to dismantle the moment that I’ve created on my own, to single handedly rip away the OWA Spartan’s Championship from around my waist, and that’s why he’s once again after me, attempting to end my story — because I ENDED HIS.

Considering that you clearly can’t mind your own business, and that your morals no longer resonate within your body to remind you that you’re supporting an irredeemable cause, I’ll have to be the one to do so instead. When I look deep into your eyes, hoping to find something pure living within, all I now see is what I’ve always seen within Jason, and that’s pure evil. With this being said, I won’t be the one to fall victim to a pair of individuals who couldn’t give a singular shit if this company crumbled to a pile of ash, and now that you’ve further proven that you’re willing to expend an individual who could easily be referred as a brother of mine, there won’t be any hesitation in knocking both of you in the dirt, none at all.

Aria, I believe you once truly cared for this place, passion was a key reason for you aspiring to be one of the best to grace this squared circle, but that’s all vanished.

If I need to knock some sense into you to remind you what you’re truly fighting for, then that’s simply what will have to be done, but remember that this is undeniably on you, as you put my brother in arms at risk, you decided that taking the easiest way out imaginable was the most reasonable option, and that’s only on you. I’ve never been one to sit idly by and watch as my family is torn apart in front of me, especially when they’re after me in the first place. This is clearly my own battle to deal with, and I’ll do so in the only way I know how to, and that’s to be the superior competitor, a champion that doesn’t back down from a war, the one who promises to put a rightful end to your so-called ‘takeover’ before it can ever begin.

VaeVictisBD, Aria Jaxon, Scott Oasis, Alyssa Grace, 'Don' Hendrix, DT The Ruler, Lazarus Arjen and Tyler Kulina have spoken. It’s such good shit!



Last edited by Noah Krieger on July 28th 2023, 2:09 pm; edited 2 times in total
DT The Ruler
Re: OWA Promos
Post July 26th 2023, 11:09 pm by DT The Ruler


!!!!!!!UNCLE DONOVAN!!!!!!!

!!!!!!LOOK!!!!!

OWA Promos Dt_the42

 
(From a previous recording over the weekend, DT The Ruler is caught on his camera, sitting in his private Seattle home’s living room in a recliner with two children in front of him, laying down on the carpet with He was holding a bottle of water in hand as one of his housemaids made sure the living room and the furniture was clean. His back was to the camera as one of the kids was holding a PlayStation controller in hand)
 
DT The Ruler: I can see from here. Also, you should try using an Aeon in this fight.


Child 1: I don’t think we need to summon for this fight.


DT The Ruler: There’s one monster in that group that’s strong enough to tank your normal attacks. Yeah, just pull Shiva out and attack with her. She’ll kill most of these guys quickly and do good damage against the biggest one.


Child 2: Uncle Donovan, how come you keep saying to attack with Shiva?


DT The Ruler: ...I’ll tell you when you’re older. But really, she does attack the quickest of who you have and ends battles faster than Ifrit and the Valefor.


Child 2: OK.


 
I don’t do this regularly, but since Burning Sky is at Las Vegas, I decided for my Rest Day to take a day trip to my home in Seattle and play the babysitter for one of my sisters, just to give them free time to decompress or pretend to be a video vixen, whatever women do these days. I’m not a person who likes kids, though I already have to watch and oversee my adult employees and associates. But I do believe that family bonds are important just like business partnerships; it’s not just a movie thing. Take care of your blood relatives, and they may return the favor one day. The ones that don’t, well... at my level of financial success, you just make sure they keep their mouth shut, as they will say anything to TMZ or whoever is nosy enough to try and smear your name when money is additional reward. After all, family is also more likely to disappoint, but you’re better off giving them a shot than some random stranger you meet while talking about yachts and stocks.
 

Child 1: Uncle Donovan, should I use Shiva here again?


DT The Ruler: (laughs and then takes a sip of his water) You don’t have to; these monsters are easier, and Auron and Wakka can get easy EXP from them.


Child 1: OK.
 
 
Anyhow...

When I was just out of prison, in-between training for Pro Wrestling and hustling in the streets, I would sometimes be too exhausted to go out. I would be too exhausted to meet with homies, too worn down to talk to the round-the-way girls we knew of. So one thing I did while my body was worn down or I was stuck recovering in my shitty apartment at the time was play a few video games. I was broke while running the streets and saving up at the time, so I settled for a PlayStation 2 and some random games I found at a Mom-and-Pop game store. I would’ve jumped on PS3 but it was financially out of reach for someone living off dollar store ramen and russet potatoes. One of the games these kids took a liking to was surprisingly Final Fantasy X, one of those crazy Japanese role-playing games that’s been recently remastered, and in the game there’s a lot of interesting conflicts that can be overlooked when you’re younger and just want to kill horrid cretins with magic and irrationally large sword attacks. But one interesting plot aspect is the conflict between the story being narrated and the narrator himself. Spoilers ahead, by the way. Tidus, the guy we all control and follow is having a horrible time accepting that he is just part of a bigger story that does not center him. Yes, as we play him, we understand his daddy issues and the sudden moment he went from Zanarkand to Besaid, and understanding the mentality of a typical SportsBaller like him, you know that not being a center-of-attention and focus was a shock to him. It angered him. The story is not about him; it’s about the pilgrimage, the journey he was summoned to assist the summoner, Yuna, along in her trod with her trusted supporters to confront and defeat Sin, so that the world of Spira could experience Peacetime referred to as The Calm, which was tradition at the beginning of the story. And I understand in his case that he’s experiencing all of these traumas he doesn’t 100% understand.

But once again: the story is not truly about him.

How can I apply it to the coming match at Burning Sky in Las Vegas... and it’s been hot as Hell in these States, and I remember how hot Hell was since part of The Great War this year was there. But anyways, how does this matter in regards to the next Kingdom event? Well, it is pretty simple: there are three men in this conflict, one of which is the World Champion, and the other two are very much showing aspects of Tidus in regards to this whole conflict. You see, I understand the story of the OWA World Championship, and it is a very interesting but chaotic one. One of triumph, one of pain, suffering, light and darkness, blood, sweat, and tears, but I understand that the story of the World Championship is similar to a living, breathing document, such as The Constitution. Constant change, ebbs and flows according to the movements of the holder, according to the thought process of the times, and can be modified as time moves on. But for both men I’m facing, the story of this championship is no longer theirs to tell.

It's no longer theirs to lead. It no longer has them at the forefront. I looked through a bit of the history of this championship and the people who held it, and these men especially were nefarious in their part of the OWA World Championship’s story. Prior to myself being the champion, I wasn’t the primary focus, and I accepted that within reason due to other business matters I prioritized. But unlike these men, who have had chances time and time and time again for the very Championship I possess, I only had one prior to this year’s Clash of the Titans. And I put my head to the grindstone and proved my worth all season where it mattered most: in the middle of the ring. So many can complain about how deserving they feel I am, despite my accomplishments compared to theirs. Many can cry that they are the best in the World, and that I have the World Championship due to luck in comparison to skill. But no matter what they say, the current story does not center them: it centers their Master and Ruler. When I said “in due time, I will be the one holding the OWA World Championship”, I was not posturing on a pile of lies; I was giving everyone else who thought someone as myself was unworthy and unprepared both a guarantee and a warning to heed. The story of the OWA World Championship is positioned around myself, and both Mr. Sabertooth and Mr. Asakura have to accept that their chapters have concluded a long time ago.
 
(DT The Ruler sipped his water again and continued watching his sister's children play the game)
 
Christopher Sabertooth I especially want to talk to you, as we have been on and off as enemies ever since that first Guerilla Warfare we met last year. And last year, many people thought I was done for at that point and just waiting for Father Time to drag me out of the arena. Two losses prior to going the distance at Clash of the Titans but not winning: some of OWA’s faithful in the Locker Room thought the last thing needing to happen was a fork be stuck in me, and my story was over. But most stories flow with constant adversity, especially for Black Men in America. One of the people that believed in my true abilities manifesting again was a man you and many others constantly disrespect in my Tag Team partner, Mr. Raivo, and it’s always irritated me how you and others try to do armchair commentary about my career in fashion you don’t even understand fully. For months on end, you have done your darnedest to give your assessment of The Ruler, to make your thoughts about my actions and movements towards success loud and clear, and even to give thoughts on what I should do as a man in OWA when you have not a single right to do so. Not because a man cannot do it; it’s because it’s something you are not very good at. Ever since our first confrontation, you have made it a point to try and analyze my character, my strengths and weaknesses as a Professional, questioning even what myself and Mr. Raivo want, even questioning why I’m with Mr. Raivo in the first place. Mr. Sabertooth, first off: when it comes to strengths and weaknesses as a competitor, there is no need to investigate. I am very self-aware, even to the point that if you listen carefully, I give way to my strengths and weaknesses being public domain- though there’s not much in terms of anything exploitable. Like many great athletes of other sports and competitions, you can have all the tape in the world, all the analysis by coaches and their assistants, and you still won’t be able to stop the freight train. You saw it in Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, Michael Jordan, Bo Jackson, Wayne Gretzky, and a few select others. Pretty much what I’m telling you is: I let people know all the time what I’m working on and improving. The question you should ask from here is: can you stop it? According to many of our interactions, the answer is clear that you haven’t been able to, no matter what the scenario.
 
But one thing you’re going to stop doing is talking as if you have my best interest in mind. Like others, you have told me that Mr. Raivo I should turn away from when chasing championship glory, and you’re a damn fool if you believe you can tell me how MY STORY is going to unfold. I don’t tell you that you should leave Jeff and the rest of the Frontline behind and suggest anyone in that group is holding you back, despite having witnessed many of you fight each other for petty reasons. I never said that your significant other, Ms. Hana Nakajima, is holding you back, despite that creature being able to control her is your fault. Hell, you and the Frontline even welcomed the thots of Odyssey to your side, and all For The Minorities did was welcome the fight against all of you. And that is because I understand there is some value to having comrades and business associates. Even though myself and the rest of For The Minorities fight for our own individual reasons, we collectively came together in support of each other. That’s how we were able to win championships, that’s how we were able to constantly fight against you all, and that’s how myself and Ms. Diantha Rosso can be World Champions without childish bickering about belts! I’ve seen you all nearly collapse and it be showcased and highlighted. I’ve seen your battles with your Frontline brethren by your side be the central focus of everything going on for Kingdom. Even your jump into the future to save Mr. Bishop from death was a focus for weeks on end. I’ve witnessed and stood on the other side of conflicts involving you and the rest of your Frontline buddies...
 
...and your comrades includes your newest member, Arata Asakura.
 
Arata mentioned his name being associated with the World Championship, and that’s all fine and dandy, so I’m going to treat everything associated with that man the same way Versus Battle nerds on the Internet treat Comic Book characters and their abilities: as a composition of everything connected to them. Composite Arata, we’ll call it, a combination of past and present, and we all know of this man’s past. I know some of his past. And I’ve seen his recent push to undo the mistakes of his past, much like Mr. Sabertooth. But like Christopher, Mr. Arata still insists that becoming champion is part of his redemption arc. He believes that winning the OWA world Championship from a person who he believes is speaking through cockiness. Excuse me for believing in myself, Mr. Arata, but so far, I haven’t made any false promises. I haven’t spoken about anything that wasn’t possible, whether it be winning the Tag Team Championships with Mr. Raivo, winning the Outlaw Championship over your former associate in Mr. MyoJin, or even declaring war and going to it against you all with the thought that death loomed over everyone. You talk about how long you lasted in the Clash- as if what I did last year wasn’t just as impressive, and I didn’t even get to choose when I would enter like you did- and talk about what you would’ve or could’ve done if you were battling myself in the end.
 
But that’s a thing with stories and how they can unfold when in reality.
 
One of the differences between myself and you especially, Mr. Arata, is that everything I believe and everything I do is based on real possibilities. Nothing is guaranteed, but if you are smart and calculating while understanding that no outcome is 100%, your head would’ve been better in the game at The Clash. Prior to The Clash, you spoke as if you were the only one that could save OWA from Stark’s bullshit, and while you did eliminate him from the contest, I ENDED HIS STORY the next show after. You spoke as if the Championship was exclusively yours to win, pretty much implying that no one else could compete with you when the time came. And you found out as The Clash unfolded that within the story of the OWA World Championship, there are many hungry competitors who have never received the chances you did, nor the chances you threatened the lives of others for, and every single one of them could’ve eliminate you and made your night shorter at the blink of an eye. And at this point, it is not about who is deserving of the opportunity to obtain the very championship I hold. It’s about the fact that this Frontline and Arata Saga needs to end.
 
 
Child 1: Uncle Donovan, did you see that?
 
DT The Ruler: I saw it, yes. Also, there’s a hidden item over here.
 
Child 2: Where?
 
DT The Ruler: (while pointing at the screen) Just go up that path and turn left, and you’ll see it.
 
 
But back to topic...both of you do not want to just be the main character but also want the power to dictate the roles of everyone. Both of you want to constantly tell me who I am and what I should do, and all you both do is look foolish. As I figured before Clash of the Titans and a long time before that event, I DICTATE THE WAY THINGS GO WITH MY PATH TO SUCCESS, not you. I am the champion here. And I will leave as I enter that arena in Las Vegas because I understand in this chapter, unlike you two: I am not playing the part of a narrator who can’t stand to be a side character.
 
Like with Mr. Stark going into our last confrontation, I know how you both are. You both have been through Hell and back in every definition of the saying. But so have I, and I know that I cannot just get a pin and win. That’s not enough to declare myself as a dominating champion. It’s all fine and dandy for the record books to just say “DT The Ruler retained”, but it’s not enough to just retain over you two. Though Arata especially likes to diminish his competition, I know how good both of you can potentially be. I know how resilient you both have displayed yourselves to be. And that motivates The Ruler just as much to prepare to face you both in similar fashion I prepared myself to face The Seventh Ward, the same way I prepared to face Mr. Stark, the same way I prepared to face everyone at The Clash, and at The Great War, and that means I am going into this match to not do the fair and just thing. I’m not entering that arena to be a Nice Guy. That killer instinct Mr. Arata speaks of flows through my blood, and when I enter the ring, and I look at you both as dogs that need to be euthanized. I see you both as wrestlers that I have to bring to near death to further prove my point that you both are no longer the focal points of the story of the championship I hold. Both of you are going to be put in check by your Master and Ruler, and you won’t have anything but excuses to carry you after you fail to put me down.

That is... after you regain consciousness.

 
(DT The Ruler took a deep breath and looked at the screen with a smirk)
 
Now I’m going to continue watching this game and chill. But Burning Sky’s World Title match will not be anything close to peaceful.
 
(The cameras then faded to black)

Aria Jaxon, Christopher Sabertooth, Scott Oasis, Alyssa Grace, Darkane, Elijah Hampton, 'Don' Hendrix and have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Raivo
Re: OWA Promos
Post July 26th 2023, 4:08 am by Raivo
OWA Promos Raivo


One city known for sin is being taken over by two boys from a city of angels. Raivo, Eccelstone, two people who in their own right got the gift of gab, got they own haters and they own detractors but live in the world they made. Should be a marquee match, right? Should be something that’s for the books, right? Well to me it ain’t. This shit shouldn’t even be a fucking contest, yet it is because what? People think they deserve a chance at my boy DT? Because they think that all that they’ve done compares to what I’ve done in this fucking business? Or is it because this has always been the fucking plan since the beginning. They always hated us. Everyone knows it, the audience is a part of the problem, and those who want to get on FTM’s side are only doing so because they think there’s a way for them to get out from under our thumbs. But nonetheless the favors they want and the audience they seek is always detrimental to that of For the Minorities and I’ve fucking had it. People need to realize one thing and one thing only, that as long as For the Minorities breathes, as long as WE have a presence, as long as WE are here in this goddamn company, you better consider us a threat and the better rulers of the company. People hate us for our roles in so many landmark events this company has to offer and that hate stems because they heroes were not a part of it or we took what was theirs to make ours. I understand the hate, but what I don’t understand is why people think we don’t deserve that spotlight. What did we do that makes people look at us and say we deserve little, that we deserve nothing. I want to know, but at the same time, look at what we have now that doesn’t matter. It don’t matter because Diantha is taking command of a division that’s been a shadow of it’s former self for ages. It don’t matter because DT is now THE champion to face after coming off a historic run with the tag titles. And it don’t matter because Raivo’s limit ain’t been hit, Raivo’s potential has yet to be unleashed, Raivo’s greatness has been experienced and it has yet to reach the peak I know I can reach. And people are scared of Raivo for that exact same reason. Because they look at Raivo as a lackey, as someone who uses others to ensure success for himself. And while I understand that is because they themselves are scared of being overshadowed by my greatness that they attack, they prod, and they try to assassinate my character just to try and drive a wedge between me and my group. And it’s all fun and games when it’s just said once cause that I understand, tryna make it so you can get the upper hand on one of us, but nah this shit been going on too damn long and I’m sick and tired of it. Because you want that weakness to come out, a weakness that I regret to inform you don’t afflict us minorities. Cause when it comes to groups, brotherhoods, minorities ain’t gonna let no petty differences, no rumors swirling command the thoughts of everyone. Unlike all you crackers and all your fucking different ways of backstabbing we know that together we ain’t ever gonna be stopped.

But on to further business, I talked of the two sons of LA duking it out this Sunday, and how that’s just nothing but disappointment. Furthermore it’s a fucking waste of my time. I shouldn’t be in this match, I should be in the main event but because the management got something against me and FTM holding the spotlight once again I have to “prove” I deserve this spot. Fuck off with all that, cause I ain’t gotta prove shit. You looking at one of the fastest rising stars in this god forsaken hole in the wall. A Spartan’s Champion in his three weeks as a signed competitor. A Tag Team Champion who brought greater prestige and life to the division more than any of the others who were before us. And a multiple Outlaw champion because I am actually one of the most opportune motherfuckers who knows when his shot is gonna hit and don’t waste the little moments. I’m one of the youngest to ever do it, and once I win that title I’ll be one of the youngest to get that fucking grand slam. My accomplishments are bar none, no one ain’t ever touching what I do anymore because there ain’t gonna be ever anyone like me. Raivo is 1 of 1, no duplicates, no copycat can do it better than the OG. And yet they want me to fucking prove myself? Prove what nigga? You got a fucking money making machine who can handle his own shit and can make all the others look like fools. You got a fucker who can elevate anyone who gets in that fucking ring in him, and you also got a fucking story of two friends, brothers going to war for a title that’s tied them together for as long as they’ve known. You got all that, and you still want me to prove myself? You want me to prove myself to these fans, to this management, to all the owners? Nah, Nah we ain’t playing that because all you’re going to do now is prove that you messed the fuck up with my placement on this card. Because now I’m not only gonna beat this shit outta Chad. And not just stopping there but I’m gonna emasculate the man to the point where Chastity is gonna be looking for some new dick the same night. And the only people at fault will be all of you up in that fucking skybox thinking this was gonna be some sweet shit to do against your #1 premier athlete. And you know what, now that I am talking about the fucker, he absolutely deserves it. Homie had been on FTM’s dick since we first arrived, he’s been on them bitches who been tryna get in our good graces so that when we took over he wouldn’t be relegated to the fucking gulag. And that didn’t turn out well for him, did it? Nah, like the cracker he was he wanted to use the minorities to get to the end of the Clash so that he could set his own mark, but nah we ain’t about that. We know a snake when we see it, but since he wanna use us we might as well have used him huh. That’s what we did, and boy would it have worked. I say worked cause his bitchass really had a stunt double in that whole match. Now the implications on that is dire to say the least, but it just shows me this, he ain’t do the work needed to get into the final four. Not the fucking work I put in, no the work DT put in, and hell not even the work Chris put in, Chad wormed his fucking way into the match and I’m sure he don’t feel bad about it. But that’s the thing, I don’t need him to feel bad about it, I need him to know this already makes him less of a competitor then I thought, a fucking clown parading as a wrestler because any skill he has can be fucking undone by anyone with half a mind. And this clown gonna come in, talk about how he gonna be the next champ because of what? Because he hired another clown to get him to the final four? Because he fought a man for the “rights” to his life? Because he was a very underwhelming Spartan champion? Look I can keep saying shit about him and I will but ain’t nothing that makes me ever worried that he can beat my ass. Cause he can’t and all this delusion he surrounds himself with is going to come crashing down when he gets in that ring with me. Cause the people he’s faced have never been on my level, they have always been below even my worst days. Hell he had to play tricks just to even put one over me in the Clash, it wasn’t on his own skill, it wasn’t with his own moves, just a dirty trick that so happened to work one time. Any other time you ain’t gonna get so lucky. Especially in a match that is just you and me, Chad.

Because I saw how you looked, last week, a man on the edge of his own sanity, a man who has no idea if he can pull it off. If I ever seen anyone as scared shitless as you were, it would be a spectacle. Look homie, I saw that look in your eye, you’re scared, scared of me, scared of being proven wrong while also proving everyone else right about you. About how you’re just a washed actor with a hot wife. About how you’re irrelevant when it comes to talking about being in the bigger picture, about how if it wasn’t for lucky break after lucky break you wouldn’t be here right now. Hell, you even became an afterthought during your own show. When I came out followed by Chris and Arata, everyone was focused on us three because that’s the star power we hold. And I fucking hate Chris and Arata but I know they have a hold that you only wish you could have. Hell, you didn’t even notice you were alone in that ring by yourself because you were so caught up in your own ass that it didn’t dawn on you did it? It didn’t dawn on you that that situation was symbolic of your whole career. That you are going to be playing to an audience of none when it comes time for the big moment, for that career defining moment of your entire time in this company. No one is going to be there to see it, hell I sure as hell ain’t cause I’m gonna be champion and long done with this company when you do achieve it. You can continue to talk, you can continue to say something else but the fact of the matter is this really Chad, if you don’t win this Sunday, when will you ever? This match is about a good a chance as you got and brother that chance is not great for you. Because you are going against a generational talent, a man with nothing to lose, everything to gain, and a potential to unleash in ways that you can’t grasp. While my opponent is a washed actor who bussed before getting a gig and even then he still gets outclassed no matter the effort he puts in a match. Because that’s just who he is, while who I am is Him. I am THE POSTER CHILD of what it means to have talent. I am THE ONE who got it all, THE ONE above all, and THE ONE who is going to beat YOUR ass. And it ain’t a prediction anymore than it’s already the future laid bare before your very eyes, Chad. I know it, you know it, and you ain’t got nothing to prove them that I’m in the wrong. All you got to you is a starpower that’s fleeting, and time that is wasting. Before you know it you’re gonna be back on your bullshit begging for a match with the top talent only to be getting stuck with Krieger again. You want to prove me wrong well you got that chance but you also got one shot so if you waste it, then it ain’t ever coming back to you. Because what you lack in skill, what you lack in ability, you also lack in the preparation and the fucking status to make it big. You can try all you want but you ain’t gonna be able to touch the heights I’ve touched or make the moments I’ve been able to make. It’s a zero tryna be a hero of his own story but you don’t know where to even start let alone whether you know if you can start it.

That’s the difference between me and you Chad, I’ve known what I can do and how to get to the points I’ve gotten. Have I stumbled trying to get there yes, but do that make me lesser than you? Nah, because I’ve done what I needed to do and because of that I can continue to say I am the greatest. People want the history I have, people want the accolades I have, people can only dream to ascend to the heights I’ve been and you want to have the gall to step into MY ring and tell me you’re as good as I am. That bravado is good for talking shit but knowing your history it ain’t been cashing any of your check lately has it. Always been the one to fall when it mattered the most. Hell after you got me out, you got out not soon after didn’t you. Cause you can’t handle that limelight, that spotlight all over you huh? Because you are not the one that is going to be the guy that OWA can depend upon. You ain’t the one an organization can hang it’s hat on and call champion or be called dependable. And hell unlike anyone in For the Minorities, you ain’t one that can change a foundation at the toss of a hat. It’s just common sense that when it comes those who can only talk shit, that’s it for them. Like I don’t know what else you want from me, do you want sympathy, do you want me to say you’re going to give me a run for my money. Because if you want me to lie to you then you might as well keep talking to ya girl cause their ain’t nothing but truth coming from me. A hard truth and a fact of life you gonna have to wrestle with before you can even thinking of taking what is mine from me. I don’t care about the fact that the main event of Final Destination is on the line. I don’t care about the #1 contendership, I care about that fucking belt and there ain’t nothing you can do to stop me from finally getting another shot at it. When I get my shot, then we’ll talk about possible conflicts there, but I have to just steamroll you before we even say something about it. After I win, and embarrass you Chad, I want you to look in the mirror and ask why, ask what happened, and ask who to blame. Because let me tell you, it ain’t you who you gotta blame. Its those who set you up for failure, those who put you in a match where you are out of your league, those who gave you an impossible challenge. Because what they’ve done to you is put you on a pedestal to where you are going to be made looking like a fucking clown. They put you in the light to where the talent differential is vast and that it’s going to be shown clear as day. They don’t believe in you, they only made this because they didn’t want me in the main event. They didn’t want me there and so they made you the fucking scapegoat to stop me from earning what is MINE. And you’re gonna have to handle the brunt of that consequence. I would feel bad, but if I gotta dismantle you, if I gotta embarrass you just to get my title, then so be it. And I want you to understand, there’s no hard feelings here. It’s just what I gotta do to show them I ain’t to be played with here. But you ain’t gonna get a playful Raivo, nah you gonna get the man I shoulda been from the start. A Raivo with a mean streak, a Raivo who ain’t here to play games, a Raivo who just straightforward once and for all. And it’s all gonna start with you. You’re gonna be made that example, and it’s going to be a good one. One that I want all the people in the back to witness, to watch as the person they wanna keep glossing over, watch as the person they always wanted to say was jealous comes out and beats the ever living shit out of someone just cause he was in my way. Chad, you’re going to need every trick in the book for me, cause I am tired of this disrespect that keeps coming from the crowd, from those in the back, from people like you. People who just talk and talk thinking that it’s fine to rehash the same lines. The same unoriginal lines that keep being parroted over and over again. It’s time for those words to go away. Because let me tell you it ain’t gonna be Chad vs DT at Final Destination. It’s gonna be DT vs Raivo, a fucking Marquee match of the decade. All I gotta do is put you down, and maybe you find yourself on the card at some point. It ain’t just gonna be at my expense. So get ready to come in that ring and fight for your chance to make it big, because I am not gonna give you an out. I am going to show you why I am who I am, and why you’ll always be beneath that. This ain’t just for a title, it’s for my fucking legacy and name. If you can’t get through your head, then there’s no helping you at this point.

Aria Jaxon, Alyssa Grace, 'Don' Hendrix, DT The Ruler and Chad Ecclestone have spoken. It’s such good shit!

DarkCircle
Re: OWA Promos
Post July 25th 2023, 12:38 pm by DarkCircle
{The screen comes up and we see an old wooden bridge running over a river as the camera pans over the quietly running river beneath it, we find ourselves finally catching sight of the "Cronenberg of Clotheslines" in the form of Jacob Striker who is leaning against the wooden railing of the bridge as he looks out over the river with a slight smirk appearing on his face as he turns to face the camera}


OWA Promos New-york-sleepy-hollow-headless-horseman-bridge



Jacob:  Out there on the world wide web there is the Internet Wrestling Community and within that community there is a bunch of smarmy fucking little know it alls that think just because they know a couple of insider terms and know of a wrestlers prior connections that instantly, they know what is really going on and they preach for pages and pages on the forums or social media about what they know.


For instance, this same group of people are saying that what is happening between myself and Kenny Drake here on the Kingdom brand is a play by play of what happened between myself and Banch Morgan back on the Dominion brand over in Wrestleworld and that I’m going to be turning my back on Stephanie Matsuda, costing her a chance to save her wife Monica, and join the Wolvesden faction.


But then again, those self same smarks are just like Kenny Drake in that they are self absorbed, little pricks who can’t see the reality of their situation before them.


What Banch Morgan did back in Dominion was he saw a young wrestler with tremendous potential who was just wasting it and was so full of a burning rage that he didn’t know what to do with it and Banch,  he made it a point to piss that very wrestler off and he gave him a direction, an outlet if you will, to harness that potential and rage, turning that wrestler into not only his standard bearer for the entire Dominion brand, but also to help create one of the most devastating champions across the international wrestling scene. 


While you, Kenny ... all you did was go into business for yourself at the encouragement of two greedy little shits who’ll pump and dump you once you’ve served your purpose to them and that’s the truth, bitter pill and all. 


I mean I tried to give you a fighting chance, Kenny. I went to Scott with that contract for a pure wrestling match because I wanted to give you a fifty fifty fighting chance for our match at Burning Sky…I wanted to give you some chance of leaving that arena with some form of dignity for the man that you were before you went into business for yourself and started screwing with people’s careers for no other reason than your own selfish fucking ego…but no, you wanted a gimmick match that would instantly shift things into your favor in the false hope that I wouldn’t stoop down to your level, that I wouldn’t dirty myself by doing whatever it took to pay you back for all of the times that you fucked with my matches these past few months.


You see my challenging you to a pure wrestling match wasn’t me trying to do some kind of I respect you classic as you called it back on Kingdom, because that would imply that I fucking respect you and I really don't because there is nothing about you that I could respect.


Because all that you've shown me since I joined the Kingdom brand is that you're nothing more than a glad-handing little sugar daddy who is too fucking blind and stupid to see how he's been used by JD Damon and Nate Cage. 


And where I come from, self-indulgent little shits get fucking *buried*...right along with everyone else, in an unmarked grave. 


{At this point, Jake’s smirk disappears from his face entirely. Replaced with a cold, emotionless expression that belies the rage that can be seen reflected in his eyes}


Jacob: That’s just the problem with people like you, Kenny. You see me and instantly assume that I’m incapable of lowering myself to your level, of being incapable or unwilling to lower myself to rolling around in thumbtacks or slashing up my body with the thousands of shards of shattered lightbulb tubes or what the fuck ever that you have in mind for this match because if you are the false assumption that I am a squeamish man because I am the most accomplished student out of all of Stephanie Matsuda’s War Room Dojo, then you are most certainly mistaken because if anything and I do mean ANYTHING, I am my father’s child and that means that if I have to ram a flaming branding iron up your ass and a roll of lightbulb tubes down your damned throat and make you fucking *AIRTIGHT*!


Then you had better believe that I’m going to do exactly that, Kenny.


Do I care what the rules are for Den’s Rules match, No I really don’t.


Do I care if I’m going to put my very career here in the Omega Wrestling Alliance at risk by going to war with you at Burning Sky? Nope, sorry…but I really don’t give two shits about that at this very instant.


But what I do care about is how funny I think it is how cute that you think that you have a purpose, Kenny. 


I hear everything that you said, Kenny...but I also heard the trembling in your voice. That slight...quiver...that showed me just how unprepared you really are for this because like I mentioned earlier, you're under the assumption that I'm going to be unwilling to swim in the deep end with you come the pay per view when in fact, I'm already sitting on the bottom of the deep end, calmly...patiently...waiting for that bell to ring in order to pull you deeper than you've ever been before or will ever have again because you decided to try and use *me* as a step towards your falsehoods.


Your falsehood of a purpose.


{Jake makes a slight clicking sound as he shakes his head sadly for a moment}


Jacob: I almost pity you, Kenny. Because at Burning Sky I am going to do things to you that will make Darkane and Arjen wet themselves in ecstasy when they behold what I'm going to do to you that night. 


Hell, I might have to take some of the bigger, meatier chunks of you down to Olympus and present them to the Seventh Ward as trophies for them to enjoy...or to piss upon the final fleshy remains of Kenny Drake.


I'm going to come out of this in one piece, but you won't. Whatever plans or schemes that you think that is going to happen now that you're supposedly back isn't going to last because I have survived going to war with a true legitimate killer in Graham fucking Baker and I've learned the worst from him, so there is nothing that you can do to me that I won't laugh at and do worse and more creatively to you in turn. 


And I will give you your 15 minutes of fame, Kenny Drake. And in those 15 minutes I will take more than my pound of flesh from you for helping your little bitch JD Damon that put us on this mutual road to hell...maybe I'll give your scalp to JD as a reminder that maybe...just *MAYBE* pissing off someone who views the concept of revenge as a standard fucking business practice isn't the best way to start down that road to war with, mmkay?


And if you want to question just how far I'll go to hurt someone, how about you go and take a gander at what I did to some poor fuck by the name of Kristian Halvorsen over my SWWS World's Heavyweight title this past weekend.


He might have some advice against going down this road, provided his jaw still isn't wired shut from how badly I fucking curb stomped his head through the goddamned ring...but then again...


{Jake offers up a twisted grin as he shrugs just a little bit}


Jacob: That would imply that you're actually intelligent to make that decision now wouldn't? 


But do you know what the difference is between what I did to Halvorsen and what I'm going to do to you, Kenny?


Halvorsen was business.


But bleeding you dry is personal. 


Sure I could just stand here on this bridge and keep going on and on about what’s going to happen at Burning Sky, but I’d rather just go there and introduce you to the pain directly, Kenny. But the biggest point that I want to drive home to you right now is that it doesn’t matter what you say, what you do, what kind of promo you think is going to cut me to the quick and make me second guess anything come Burning Sky because in the end, the result is going to be the same bloody ending for you and deep down you know that.


Remember Kenny, I did give you a chance for a fair fight by offering you a legit wrestling match…but your desire to feed your ego instead of listening to reason put you in this place. So in short…


{Jake then straightens himself up to his full height, does a mocking little bow at the waist before in a very cold, serious tone}


Jacob: Con permiso, Kenneth. The hall is rented, the orchestra engaged. It’s now time to see if you can dance.


{The screen then fades to black}

Alyssa Grace has spoken. It’s such good shit!

grandcaster
Re: OWA Promos
Post July 19th 2023, 10:34 pm by grandcaster
...Uh-huh. Sure. 
Tell me, Seventh Ward: Is this the decision that you want to make? You should be lucky that I’m benevolent enough to tell you the error of your ways. 

Two pests, a disease-infested rat and his sniveling worm compatriot, have the scent of fortune graze their noses a few times and it’s enough to lead them to believe that they’re the ones on top? Uh-huh. Yeah. Sure. Alright. 

...Okay then. 
I get it now. 

You think I’m a fool. 

You are the Seventh Ward, a team that is capable of savagery that others are only able to dream about. Regardless of who stood up to you, you struck them down without hesitation. No matter who made the challenge, whether they considered themselves a god, best in the world, or one grand title after another, you cut them down. You two...are on top of the world. You’ve slaughtered all of your enemies and any lingering spirits who attempt to make a rallying comeback, you’ve killed them before they’ve gained any ground. That is the fate that befall people like Eon Blue. 

You, Seventh Ward, are OWA’s very own Imagawa clan. As a powerful unit that has wrestled control of this landscape of depravity, you have pushed all other tag teams into submission. Because, well, why would they raise a hand against you? You are the number-one tag team in OWA. You’re marching your way into Final Destination as the Tag Team Championships with the dream of solidifying yourselves as a permanent oppressive force

Then there is us. You think we’re fools. Even with all of my heavenly blessings, I am a newcomer in OWA. My career in this company is still in its infancy and Ryo? I’ve heard lots of things about Ryo. I’m not deaf to the chatter that exists within these walls. During Clash, I watched as my opponents tear apart Ryo in their promos as if he was nothing. No matter what he did, no matter how valiant he was, his opponents looked down on him. To many, Ryo Sakazaki is nothing more than a joke. To you two, our team is nothing short of laughable. We...are the Fools of Owari—brazen men with bizarre behaviors who, to you, are way in over their heads. 

How dare they challenge us, you think in your heads. These two fools with their fledgling careers and fleeting victories think that they can stand up against us, two men who have witnessed killing, two men who have performed killing? 

You’re upset at this slight against you. 

You plan to show them the consequences of their poorly thought-out actions in a title match. You seek to make them cry, beg, and cough up blood, just like the enemies you defeated before. You’ve fought enemies who were far “stronger” than these fools. You desire to put them into place. The result is like the others in the past: You take these two fools and devour them, like lambs to the slaughter. 

Except...that doesn’t happen. 

You can’t wrap your head around it. You were superior, you had the upper advantage. You were stronger than a fool yet...you lost. Your army of 25,000 strong lost to an inferior army of 2,000. You, the number one tag team, lost to a pair of fools. 

To echo your own words: I’m not speaking in hypotheticals. I’m speaking the cold hard truth. This is your reality: Much like how the Imagawa clan lost to a Fool of Owari, the top tag team of OWA will lose to a pair of ‘fools’. Halfway through your pathway towards bigger better things at Final Destination, you’ll be shot down by a gun...and my finger is on the fucking trigger. 

Do you want to know the reason why I’m different from your past opponents? It’s simple. They aren’t me. It’s true that I’m one of the newcomers to OWA but I’m not new to this. I’m not new to wrestling. I’m not new to fighting. And I’m certainly not new to killing. You don’t know a thing about me or what I’m capable of. Yet, despite that truth staring in your face, you rest on your laurels, confident that your soulless violence and cheap depravity will be enough to stop us. 

You think you can hang that match against that bastard lizard over my head? The same match where he got so afraid about the reality that was me beating him that he sent his little goons after me to steal that belt from me? That wasn’t my loss. That was a lizard running away with his tail in-between his legs; he knew that he couldn’t beat me so he opted for the coward’s escape. 

Don’t even try to use that match against me. Whether I cook you alive in hot oil like my ancestors would’ve done or behead you with a sword like my grandparents had to others many times, I’ll make sure you regret it if you EVER use that fucker as an indictment against my skill. 

But enough about Dampshaw. He’s not important here. What matters is that you’re not him. Neither of you are going to run away and neither of you will cheat like him. Luckily for you, neither me or Ryo will run away either. I’m not scared of you and no matter how many times you bring up how you’ll do the most inhumane things to us, it will not make us second-guess our decision. 

Ryo isn’t my knight in shining armor and I’m not his naïve lamb that follows him around like a slave. We’re dragons—its woven in the characters of our namesbut to you, we’re fools. But you know what dragons and fools have in common? They’ve both been at the top and they’ve taken down superior forces. If you reject my divinity, then sure. I’ll let you get away with this transgression this time. 

Instead, you can call me the Demon King of the Sixth Heaven. A man who was once perceived as a fool. A koi fish who swallowed up stronger fish until he became a dragon, lord of the heavens. 

I didn’t bring up your violence because I want to figure you out. I brought it up because its fucking laughable that you think that this depravity is even close to what true depravity is. This cheap knockoff you call depravity is child’s play to the real stuff. I’ll gladly show you what the Sixth Heaven is like and I’ll watch as that depravity eats away at your soul until you are encased in the void of heaven, eternally. Your tag belts taken away by a pair of fools. Your minds melted into nothingness. And your bodies, broken beyond repair. 

You’re right. I am a painter. I am the painter Yoshihide and you haven’t fucking began to comprehend what I consider to be true art. You’re too busy shoveling slop as you pass by the human pillars of Rashōmon. But no worries. I’ll paint a magnificently horrible Hell Screen during our match. The best painting to exist. 

Your insolence will be your undoing. You might have enjoyed the dominance you held against other tag teams but they’re not us. You perceive us as fools but we have nothing to lose and everything to gain. NOTHING you do in that match will break us. In the face of superior numbers, only a strong offensive policy can make up for the gap and us two? We have offense in spades. 

I’m not puffing Ryo’s tires because I’m desperate. I’m doing it because I trust him and I believe in him like how he believes in me. Even fucked-up depraved people have that: Faith. I'm not talking about the religious type either.

 Everyone might think he’s nothing but by the end of our match, we’ll both be something. Where all other tag teams failed, we’ll be the ones who won those titles from you. Where others crumbled underneath the pressure, we’re the ones who pushed through and conquered you. 

And when others were left torn asunder by your “depravity”, we’ll reach levels so deep that we’ll no longer be perceived as human. Simply put, we’re the worst opponents for you: We’re a pair of fools who won't pull out of this game of chicken you're doing with us. And we’re going to purge you until you’re nothing. 

...Perhaps things could’ve been different. You two could’ve been bandits and me and Ryo? We would’ve been the spiders who would’ve seen the good in you. Despite your filth and depravity, we would’ve spun lovely threads to pull you out of hell and allow your souls to reach salvation. 

But that isn’t this reality. In this reality, the Honored One is not a spider who spins threads with the intent of saving. They are a god who tramples asuras underneath their feet, a fool turned demon king who sets blazes to mountains full of monks, and dragons who bring forth calamity with their existence. 

This isn’t a promise or a lie. This is the cold hard reality. At Night of Champions, you WILL be the ones in the grave. Those belts you hold so highly will be in our hands and that false superiority you have will be nothing. 

Olympus doesn’t need the Tres Comas Club, a group of fraudulent champions and stuck-up upper class deadweights, and it doesn’t need the Seventh Ward—a rotting tag team so worn out and stuck in the past that they’re more suitable in a retirement home than a ring. Tried and true? Is that what you call old age?

Olympus needs innovation. I’ll—wait no, WE! IT’S WE BECAUSE WE’RE A FUCKING TAG TEAM! ISN’T THAT RIGHT RYO?! 

We’ll unite this crumbling pantheon by force through heavenly purge and innovation! Starting with you, Seventh Ward! You can fantasize about feasting upon our corpses or using us as a message but that’s not how it fucking works! It was never going to work! 

Your good fortune has run out! 
Ebisu has ran out of fish! Daikokuten has let your crops wilt under the sun! Bishamonten has stopped listening! The strings of Benzaiten’s biwa have broken apart! Jurojin’s life has ended! Hotei’s alcohol ran dry! Fukurokuju will not be able to resurrect you! And Kichijoten...her beauty has turned rancid! 

You’re dealing with us now. It doesn’t matter how much of our own blood we have to spill, we’ll endure whatever you give us. It’ll make it all the more pleasurable when your smug grins contort into twisted expressions of horror.

A Rat King and a Graveworm aren’t feasting on lambs. No, you’re the ones on the menu and the karma you have within your bodies will be divine. You two might perceive me and Ryo as fools, idiots, hypocrites, or whatever word you want to use...but our match at Night of Champions is our Battle of Okehazama. And we’ll fucking win. We’re not a hastily made-up team and after we beat you, we’ll enjoy using your skulls as drinking cups for alcohol. 

Now then, let’s enjoy the beauty of violence and depravity that comes with innovation. This match...will be something worthwhile, won't it?

Alyssa Grace, Darkane, 'Don' Hendrix, DT The Ruler and Lazarus Arjen have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Darkane
Re: OWA Promos
Post July 19th 2023, 6:15 pm by Darkane
OWA Promos 4EunSuZ




I love it when people overvalue their importance.

Take a look at the Hollywood elite for example. These sumptuous celebs with deep pockets that emit star power as soon as they step out of the limo and onto the red carpet are the primary guilty parties. Then you have the die hard fans and the paparazzi immediately flooding the scene and climbing over each other to get a glimpse at the star attractions. Everybody wants a piece of the action, so they risk life and limb to stampede the fuck out the place; completely oblivious to the fact that a decent chunk of these public figures and household names wouldn’t piss on you if you were ablaze. That’s why I never could quite understand fandom of any kind or why ditzy ‘stans’ cream their pants over everything their idol does. I couldn’t imagine being enamored with somebody so much that I’d lose every last shred of integrity I had, but those are the lengths people are willing to go through these days. It doesn’t matter if they lose all sense of rationale, it doesn’t matter if they step on the toes of everyone else. As long as they get what they fucking want, everything else is secondary. 

In reality those with high stature and influence have the pull to persuade a lot of fucking people, but for rag-tag ghouls like Laz and myself, we don’t bend the knee to vainglorious ass clowns like Tatsuo because he neither has the pull or the influence to turn pull the wool over everyone’s eyes. He still has his training wheels on. He’s still wet behind the ears. I remember when I was in your position years ago. I was an upstart tough cookie who thought I could strap a rocket to my back and shoot for the moon out of the gate. I craved instant gratification. I thought I had seen it all, through day to day adversity in the guts of New Orleans; digging through rotted out garbage cans as means for survival. I thought every day was a herculean task in itself just to roll out of my tent and resist the temptation to jam needles into the webbings of my toes just to say to hell with it all. I thought it would set me up pretty for anything any promotion would throw at me. I wore the fact that I wasn’t another nameless face folded up in a wheelbarrow like a fucking souvenier. I thought I was untouchable when I first broke onto the scene. I thought there was no way in hell anybody had it worse off than me and the most damning thing of all is I refused to acknowledge there was going to be a day where I lost to the better fucking man.

It was a hard pill to swallow. I never wanted to face that stinging truth but it was inevitable and once I did, once I was forced to endure a blow to my pride, once I was forced to learn how to adapt to different situations on the fly, I was better off for it. Sometimes it takes a hearty slice of humble pie to sit your fucking ass down.

Even a supposed ‘God’ can learn a few lessons along the way.

I’ve dealt with a host of men who thought they could play God in front of The GraveWorm but when the dust settled they shrunk before the presence of the man in fucking black. Ask Abholos, ask Aizen, ask Eon Blue, ask Nathan Fiora, ask Graham Baker, ask Christopher Sabertooth. Men who had delusions of immortality only to be cut down and claimed by Darkane at one point or another.  

What makes you different, Tatsuo? 

Because I don’t see an all-seeing God. I see a wolf in sheep's clothing. I see another paint by number overzealous rookie hot shot who thinks he has the world eating out of the palm of his hand because he has an affinity for violence. We wrote the book on fucking violence Tatsuo, any archaic fighting Japanese traditions you have in your back pocket or any amount of shrewd tactics you picked up along in the dojo will not prepare you for the onslaught that awaits the both of you. It boggles my mind how every Tom Dick and Harry seems to think they have us figured out by bringing their own penchant or definition of violence. It’s one thing to find beauty in it, it’s another thing to channel your inner artist and use violence as a canvas to express yourself but to me that’s over thinking the entire process. There’s no ‘soul’ in our violence, the heinous things we’ve done in and out of that ring require anything but soul. The brand of barbarity we put on display requires a special kind of fuck up. It requires someone who will go the extra mile. It requires someone to sink to the depths of depravity that makes 95% of every other reputed ‘killer’ out in the wild tuck their tails in between their legs and head for recluse but to us it’s just routine work. That’s the stark contrast between The Seventh Ward and you Tatsuo. We don’t rejoice in the name of violence, we move on to the fucking next casualty after we left the previous one in shambles and dire straits. While you’re painting portraits of mutilated corpses, we’re laying waste to the entire field without even a cunt hair’s worth of DNA left because when we do that we leave no room for mistakes.

You like to play with your food. We like to eat it.

You will find that out come Olympus and it’ll be a rude fucking awakening.

We don’t care if you’re petrified of us or if you’re amped up on piss and vinegar. It makes no difference to The Seventh Ward. We don’t have to intimidate you, Tatsuo, we just have to make you second guess yourself. That’s all it takes. That way, when you’ve used up everything in your bag of tricks, when you’ve whored out all your fucking resources and it still hasn’t made us sweat a bead? That’s when you know you’ve royally fucked up. That’s when you know you’ve taken a wrong turn and hit a disastrous dead end.

Ryo isn’t going to be your knight in shining armor when things go awry either. Kissing up to that sad sack of shit isn’t going to bring you peace of mind. Trying to pump his tires for whatever you can bring out of him, trying to raise his spirits with a rallying cry because he spends most of his time pacing the floors with his shoulders slumped wondering why he’s such a good for nothing washout is such a fruitless task and a wild goose chase. I know for some unearthly reason you think you can ride his coat tails or vice versa, that together as one cohesive unit you can muster enough blind courage, faith and fury in each other to slay two fucking flesh ripping psychopaths but you’re barking up the wrong tree.

That’s why Ryo feels it’s necessary to stick his pigeon chest out and relay empty threats back in our direction. It’s a defense mechanism more than anything else. It’s what happens when you’re cornered by The Seventh Ward; the first thing you lose is your mind. Part of me wants to admire the vigor that you carry, it’s almost as if you believe half of the shit that you say and perhaps you do but when you preach originality, when you insinuate that we sound like a broken record and then in turn sound like a broken record that lacks punch and originality, it makes you a hypocrite.

Nobody likes moody on the rag hypocrites.

And when you search aimlessly far and wide for reasons as to why people don’t put their credence in guys like Ryo Sakazaki, given the way you act like a petulant whine bag in and out of the ring, it’s no wonder why you’re constantly belittled and heckled. You’re a fucking lost cause pissing in the wind and going in circles. Who in their right mind gives a fuck if anything we say isn’t brand spanking new, hot off the presses or original? The results speak for themselves. Time and time again, past, present, future, whenever, whether as individuals or a tag team we’ve turned you inside the fuck out. OH BUT DARKANE! I’M STILL HERE!!! AND I’M PLOTTING YOUR DEMISE! I BUST MY ASS NO MATTER WHAT AND I DON’T CARE ANYMORE! We set your glass ceiling because you allow it, dipshit. Whether you care or not is a moot point, because you never evolve to the heights you seek. You can change your disposition, you can slap on a new nickname or two, you can spin the wheel on the Olympus roster to find a new tag team sacrificial lamb/sucker as your partner, it just doesn’t matter Ryo. 

We don’t have to write you off either, that’s already been done to death, what we need to do is slam shut the book on Ryo and Tatsuo before it even gets written. You scream from the rooftop that you’re still here in the flesh, Ryo, that you keep coming back for another beating. I’ll give you that, but it’s not because you’re inherently resilient it’s because you don’t know when to call it quits. That’s okay, we understand full and well, it can be a challenge to find the strength and valor to pull the plug. That’s why we’re here Ryo, to put you down in the soil, to make sure there is no riveting comeback story for the ages. To make sure that your haphazard tag team with Tatsuo was merely a one hit wonder that went up in flames. To take up all of your pent up fury, all of your rage, boiling at the seams and throw it right back in your fucking face.

Maybe then it’ll finally dawn on you that you don’t have what it takes. You’re not that guy, you never were and you’re certainly not HIM. Everything you do, every action you take, every opportunity you squander isn’t met with disdain or disgust but complete apathy. Nobody gives a rat’s ass about who or what Ryo Sakazaki stands for. OWA and by extension Olympus doesn’t need a Ryo on the roster to keep its head above water or actually function as a whole. What Olympus needs and what Olympus has in the bag are The Seventh Ward.

Tried and true.

Proven commodities.

Tag Team Champions.

And we’ll dine like a grotesque fat fucking Rat King and GraveWorm on two bootlickers with a little engine that could mentality, who thought they could have a seat at the table only to end up in the bellies of the beasts. A false god and his pet dragon primed and ready to step up to a couple of mangy fucking scoundrels.

Only for The Seventh Ward to make the worst day of their collective existences.

Their absolute fucking last.

Alyssa Grace, Elijah Hampton, Rebecca Filth, 'Don' Hendrix, DT The Ruler, Lazarus Arjen, Felix Hartley and grandcaster have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Lazarus Arjen
Re: OWA Promos
Post July 19th 2023, 5:37 pm by Lazarus Arjen
OWA Promos 4EunSuZ

“Ignorance and arrogance; it’s a combination that results in one thing - failure. Nothing about you screams ‘killer’, Tatsuo. The only thing I see is a man staring down an unbeatable task, so you try your best to sound hard - tough - intimidating. It comes across as fake as For the Minorities when they claimed to be the best thing in the tag division, when they had nothing to back up their claims. Your delusions of grandeur are factless. Your promises of victory, of triumph, of murder against the Seventh Ward are all … empty. You have no idea of what you’re up against; that curtain has been pulled back and that truth is now crystal clear for the world to see.”

“Do I think you’re currently intimidated by us, Tatsuo? No. Do I think you should be? Yes.”

“You’ve downplayed the severity of the situation you found yourself in on Olympus, but that shows the infancy of your career. That shows the inexperience and the lack of awareness you have. You utter, you spit and you shout brave words - for someone who has yet to step into the ring with two men who are single-handedly responsible for some of the most vile, depraved acts that have ever been seen in this industry - let alone OWA.”

“You call yourself a god and expect Darkane and I to - what? Take you seriously? I KILLED THE LAST GOD THAT STEPPED INTO THAT FUCKING RING. I took his own fucking blade and drove it into his fucking heart. Aizen, the god, was no match for The King of Rats - for the Depraved - and yet you believe that you are?”

Ignorance. Arrogance.

“It’s that same ignorance, that same arrogance, that same inexperience that allows you to speak of mediocrity while you use our names in vain. It shows that you know nothing about us - it shows that you truly have no idea what you’re talking about. I won’t verbally educate you, though. There’s too much history - but we will show you, Tatsuo. We will show you that there are no gods. There are no demons. There are no dragons, no other worldly beings. Just the Graveworm and the King of Rats.”

“Just the two men who hold your fate in our hands. At any time we want, we could close our hands around you - crushing you within our fists. But the feeble minded don’t understand. The inferior always believe that they’re more important than they are. You dare speak of how you’re going to not only beat Darkane and I, but how you’re going to murder us - when you couldn’t get past an aging old man who believes himself to be a Time Lizard? You couldn’t get past Reginald Dempshaw III in your last match, and yet claim you’re going to surpass us?”

“Ignorance. Arrogance.”

“Not only have we left bodies broken and stacked as high as the sky behind us, but we’ve left streets stained with the blood of our enemies. We’ve violently dismantled and dismembered men just for standing in our way; what makes you any different than them, the fact that you call yourself a God? How about; what makes you believe that you and Ryo are better than Raivo and DT? The former champions who erased records set from once upon time ago? You’re not better, not by a long shot - and together Darkane and I ripped these tag team championships away from their clutches in the most ruthless of fashion.”

“You are fire and war? I’ve been burned alive, fire does not intimidate me. I am built to survive war, I have survived them my entire life.”

“I’ve had blades plunged into my skin. I’ve had guns pressed to my head. I’ve blown my best friend to pieces. I’ve heard the final gasp of air from several people; and that is just my time in OWA. Your words, Tatsuo, are just that; words. On the flip side, I know you’ll say the same to us; but unlike you - we are proven. Unlike you, Darkane and I have established ourselves. The words we say, while laced with hate and venom - to you, should be treated as the gospel. Your own partner knows this all too well, maybe you should have consulted him before you decided to take this road. Ryo has been on the wrong side of the Seventh Ward before and he knows exactly what is in store for him come Olympus. He isn’t a Dragon. He isn’t on this Purge quest that you seem motivated to complete; Ryo is on a downward spiral that leads nowhere except six feet beneath the fucking dirt.”

“And you’ve found yourself on that same path.”

“Your ignorance will not allow you to take my word until it’s too late. Your arrogance will cause you to not believe it until it’s too late. Those two traits of yours, Tatsuo, will be the reason you suffer come Olympus - and suffer, you will. Your suffering will be infinite, you will be begging for the end.”

“But to echo your own words; There is no end.”

“Not for you and not for your partner either. Ryo; you have been the literal punching bag for the better part of the last year; what do you expect to happen the second time you face the Seventh Ward? If anything, you had a better opportunity at success with Mark fucking Michaels at your side. You faced us in our first tag team match since the Seventh was formed, but now? Now you have us at our best. Now you have us not only coming off of our Championship victory, but you have us chomping at the bit because we’ve been pent up. We’ve been caged since Kingdom. Clash of the Titans, the last Olympus - we’ve sat on the sidelines, wanting to get in the ring and decimate someone.”

“Bring in the fodder of Olympus. Bring the clueless lamb to the slaughter, one more time. This time, though, no matter how much he protests the fact, the lamb has been castrated. This time, though, the little sheep has no Demon to fall back on. He will promise to you that he’s refocused and determined, but the truth of the matter is - he lacks that which separates him from the rest. And now the poor little lamb sits in front of a camera and cuts promos on us - laughing? It’s funny how the insignificant laugh at champions. It’s funny how the career failure laughs at two men who have beaten his ass on several occasions. Perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps you two do make a good team, because you’re both delusional as the other.”

“Ryo wants us to say something original? I don’t need to say anything about you, Ryo. Your track record against me, against Darkane, fuck - against everyone - speaks for itself. There’s no need to verbally convince you why I’m better than you; I’ve done so physically.”

“But let me ask you something. After your thoughtless tirade was over, did you sit back and believe anything that you said? You talked of the lack of originality from Darkane and I - in fact, you found it funny. But did you find your own hypocrisy as amusing? When you slung shit to the wall, hoping it would stick - in this case, referencing our looks. The same way For the Minorities used race. You’re desperate, so you try hard to make us look bad. And when that doesn’t work, you resort to threats. You talk hard, Ryo, but have done nothing of merit to back it up when you’re against men who are better than you. You’ve won titles? Congratulations. You’ve also lost just as much of them as you’ve won, and against lesser men than myself and Darkane. You’ve lost everything you’ve held near and dear to you, to men who Darkane and I would not break a sweat over. You can blame your misfortune on the corporate ass-kissers. You can blame your misfortune on the fact that a certain group of people hate you; but the fact of the matter is - all of your misfortune comes from the fact you don’t know when you’re in over your head. I’ll help you, though.”

“You’re in over your head.”

“You were when you and Mark Michaels faced Darkane and I, you are now with Tatsuo as your partner. When I said you weren’t built for the atrocities that await you, I meant that.  You weren’t then, and even with this new found attitude - you aren’t now. All of your hard talk, it’s all a facade. You’re no killer, Ryo. Nothing you have ever said or done suggests that. You’re projecting because you want to follow the path that we’ve laid out. Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, they say; but to us? Trying to be something you’re not - where we’re from - gets you laid out in the street with a bullet hole in your face.”

“But that’s not your future. No. Your end won’t be that quick. It will be slow. It will be painful.”

“I don’t sit and speak of hypotheticals. What I’m telling you now, Ryo - Tatsuo, is cold - hard - truth. What I’ve done in OWA speaks for itself. In fact, it speaks volumes. What Darkane has done in OWA also speaks volumes, while you two only speak in whispers.  It’s amusing to us that you two threaten to take our lives, as if you actually have a credible chance of doing so. You puff your chests out and speak to us with some hatred in your voices, because we’re what you want to be. Not only are we champions, and that’s a thing neither of you can call yourselves - but we’re the two most violent men on this roster. We’re the measuring stick of depravity, we’re the mad, the macabre, the malevolent. We’re the grim end that everyone in this tag team division will meet.”

“Eon Blue was the first one to find that out, and Jacob Senn was forced to watch. Jacob went to the well one too many times when he tried to dig up bones from the past. He should have learned his lesson when he unleashed me upon the OWA after finding me in the sewers.”

“You two will serve the only purpose that you two have; to be used as a message that we send to this division and to this company. There’s no chance you walk away with these championships, and the message that will be sent is: anyone who tries to capture these championships will violently be disposed of.”

“You two want to be hard? You want to kill us? Do it. Please, stop us...”

“...But you won’t. You can’t. You’ll fail, just like everyone else has when they make those promises. And when the both of you fail to make good on your promises, no one is going to be surprised…”

“It will be just another Olympus for Ryo and Tatsuo. The fodder of Olympus.”

“Little sheep next in line to be slaughtered; and we’ll do so in the most inhumane way possible.”

Alyssa Grace, Darkane, Elijah Hampton, Rebecca Filth, 'Don' Hendrix, DT The Ruler, Felix Hartley and grandcaster have spoken. It’s such good shit!

'Don' Hendrix
Better Work This Time
Post July 19th 2023, 10:40 am by 'Don' Hendrix
("You are guilty until proven innocent Brandon". Those words stung deeper than any chair shot could. After everything he's done for Tres Comas Club, to be guilty is the biggest crime he can experience. Now, to have his Tres Comas Club group vote guilty is one thing, but having his Antoniano Family brothers and mentor have no confidence in him either?! He's the fucking DON of the family…… is he? Screw it, he can't think of that now. He has to deal with a man trying to fight for his job back in OWA……….

OWA Promos Roman-reigns-ooh-ahh

Mark Michaels. Hendrix/Michaels III in a Laffer match. If Brandon Hendrix wins, Mark is gone for good. If Mark Michaels wins, he wins a contract back into OWA, and Hendrix is out of Tres Comas Club for good. The battle of two behemoths in what could be the final battle between the two. Everything is on the line for both men, including the man coming into view now- The Don Brandon Hendrix. Behind him is the first picture The Antoniano Family took together- and when the camera zooms out to a empty table other than Hendrix. The pain in his eyes not having his brothers and father figure around. But, he has to focus on this match- or he loses everything.)

".....I had to redo everything I originally said here because starting off with Mark Michaels does not seem like the correct thing to do. Ever since Clash Of The Titans, I've been thinking of retiring from wrestling. I've been stuck in this slump of being unmotivated, and it's been tearing at my soul for the longest time. I love what I do. I woke up everyday as a kid wanting to become a professional wrestler. This was my dream since I was four years old, and I've been blessed to be able to compete at the highest level for three years, including main eventing one pay-per-view for the Immortal Heavyweight Championship being the biggest achievement of my career because in a land where talent can excel in the highest of levels like how we've seen Elijah Hampton do ever since winning the Immortal Heavyweight Championship for the very first time late last year, to the fall of man like Jacob Senn who was high on the world as Champion, most successful defenses too in this case, to lose the title and disappear because all you knew… was gone. My highest level was going into Civil War. What I did going into Civil War made me feel like I belonged in the main event. After that loss to Hampton, I felt like I didn't feel like it. My mindset went downhill, and I've stopped competing at the highest level I know I can. Then, I've got this whole Tres Comas Club thinking they can find me guilty. Let me remind everyone of something- I am a founding member of this group. Me and Remington created La Società first that had him, me, Tony, Marco, Matteo, and Angelo. That was the original core. Then all these other people had to be entered in, and I've been the problem Solver since. Needing a championship in our group? I did it. They needed Remington to win the World Championship? I did it. You needed AD to win the American Dream Championship from a female? I did it. You needed Poet to shine bright? I did it. So you're going to get mad at me for the Spear? Look, Nobi moved out of the way, and you were in the wrong place at the right time. It wasn't my fault, but the fact that everything was blamed on me…. Fine. I'll accept it. I'll accept being at fault for you almost losing the championship to Nobi, but deep down, we know the real reason why. The same man that cost me the Immortal Heavyweight Championship Match against Elijah Hampton at Civil War……

Mark… Michaels.

You caused all of this. You caused my guilty verdict because you can't honor the fact you're jobless. You let yourself lose so Remington did not have power, but you cost yourself YOUR dream. But you couldn't fulfill your end of the bargain. With that, who's really the liar here? You spewed off at the mouth that I've lied about everything I ever spoke about, how I ain't a man of my word, but you proved to be the biggest hypocrite in the world. I didn't lie when I said you will no longer be able to provide for your family. I didn't lie when I said your career is in my hands. Am I a liar now? And let me make something clear, after your one pinfall on me, I've been doing what you failed to do- I've beaten you down so bad, your own family couldn't look at you. I still remember your blood covering my hands…. Watching you need to be carried to the back by your boyfriends there, seeing them wipe your blood from your eyes so you can see me standing tall in the end. The first two times we faced off, there wasn't much at stake, now this is win or go home for you, and we're in the match that you can't pin me, can't submit me, but try to out climb me. Guess what?

You can't.

Last time I did a match where I had the goal hanging above my head, I won- and that match was harder than this one will be. This is where your story ends Mark Michaels. If Elijah Hampton, the man who kicks out of everything couldn't get the job done, what makes the unemployed dick rider of Elijah Hampton think can? This movie we're in- Elijah was the main character, Mark. You? You were the NPC in the background. And like all NPCs, you either get killed off or your time in the scene ends. Now, I'm going to steal a line from all the mark ass fans we have- what's being created is cinema. What's being created is the single piece of work that Olympus has ever seen. This is better than anything created before hand, better than Jacob Senn's entire run, better than Hampton's run. And when the biggest scene of this movie comes, none of you will see it coming. And you Mark Michaels definitely won't see it coming because you'll still be unemployed from Omega Alliance Wrestling. You're gonna be fired permanently and it's going to be the greatest day in my life. You're right about something there Mark, you and me? We've been dancing this devils dance since the day I returned to OWA last year after Final Destination Four, and we've been beating the absolute dog piss out of each other since then, and do not get me wrong, I know how tough you are dog, but with all that resiliency- you are one dumb son of a bitch. You think I have a hard on for you??? You had no business interfering in my match against Hampton. What I did in my Icarus Championship cash in was legal and fair, and you had no right to stick your nose in my business. That ass kicking I gave you afterwards was a slice of redemption I have towards you. All you punk ass bitches have your hard on for me. You, Ryo Sakazaki, now even some Kingdom jobber Jacob Cocksucker, Dickrider, Only Known For Saying Krieger Buried His Parents, whatever his gay ass last name is, y'all been hoping on my dick since I decided to think about my daughter's life instead of all of y'alls. Am I truly the bad guy for that? That is the stupidest thing I ever heard and I've had to promo battle against Ryo Sakazaki.

You list guys like Graham Baker and Jacob Senn that's tried to end your career, but I'm nothing like those men…. Because I will end your career, not try. I will climb that ladder, unhook that contract, then rip it up and leave the pieces of the paper on your dead body. And I don't need nobody's help like they need mine. I started my career alone and it stayed like that for years before getting my own backup. I plan to settle this like the man I was back then- everyone wants to clown The Don, but they aren't ready for when the man rolls around. Mark Michaels, you want something better than the Don?

OWA Promos Drew-mc-intyre-wwe

You got him.

Mark Michaels, you want the fire that brought me to the dance? Then this Olympus, you get….


BRANDON

FUCKING

HENDRIX!!


You strip EVERYTHING you seen from The Don and you got the man that nearly broke his fucking neck in his first Olympus main event then stomping Ryo's FUCKING HEAD IN- who was also the same guy who in his first big match back in Olympus against you and exceeded every bit of doubt that people put on me. I had people labeling me when I returned that I was going to off and quit again- but I got better. I got stronger. And some of those people who talked they shit ain't here with us no more. Like a moth to a flame, everyone stepped up and tried their luck at sending me away to whatever reboot Project Honor was going to be, but those fuckers got burned! And so will you Mark. I went from "eh he's ight" to the main event- On. My. Own. Ladies and Gentlemen, as you can tell, I got my fucking motivation back.

Before I continue, hey Poet. You ain't got the time, nor the fuckin right to even mention my name negatively in your mind, let alone it coming out your mouth that way. You're good, but I'll be glad to kill another push before it truly starts.

Michaels, we've hit the point of no return. We've been battling too long too many times. You beat me down, I beat you down. You've bleed, I've bleed. Now, we finish this between us. It's win or die situation for both of us, but I'm not ready for my end, I refuse to let my end because my prophecy does not end with you- it ends on my terms. Mark Michaels, we're going to be battling in Queens…..

But when our match is done, you'll be dancing with the Queen in Hell.


OWA Promos Wwe-smackdown-roman-reigns-drew-mcintyre

Alyssa Grace, Mark Michaels, Elijah Hampton, DT The Ruler and Brody have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Nobi
Re: OWA Promos
Post July 19th 2023, 10:07 am by Nobi
[size=77]OWA Promos Nobine13
[/size]

Let me get this straight when I said winning the Immortal Heavyweight Title was a cool thing even when it doesn't count but winning the Prestige Title…for the second time would be a cool thing as well.

It's not a secret that my career is older than OWA itself so I have done everything and when I said I mean everything that's including what happened at Clash of Titans itself. I'll get back to RIP and Tree Comas Club to take the Immortal Heavyweight Title one day but I'm not facing RIP or any of The Tree Comas Club right now and besides, I have a lot of faith in Carlos Rosso to become the Immortal Heavyweight Champion.

Who I am facing right now are Elijah Hampton and Poet for the Prestige Title and that's who and what I'm targeting right now, to become a 2 times Prestige Champion.

Besides, I didn't even hold the Prestige Title for 100 days on my first and as of right now, only reign during my time as the Prestige Champion. And that happened because of Elijah Hampton. He's the same man who's currently holding the Prestige Title as he beat everyone else to win it along winning the Apex World Title as well as retaining the Immortal Heavyweight Title. That's something incredible. Well, Elijah Hampton as I said before is a great pure in-ring performer.

But nothing lasts forever. Sure, Elijah might retain the Prestige Title but there's also a chance of me or Poet beating him to become the Prestige Champion too. But if I'm being honest, I believe I have the best to win the Prestige Title. Both Elijah and Poet keep saying I'm the "third man" but that's what makes me have the best shot at winning the Prestige Title. Elijah Hampton and Poet already had a war of words when Elijah did an open challenge and Poet answered it. Now judging from what they say to each-others for this match, I think they keep pouring the fires on the gasoline on one another. In Elijah's case, he still has something against me apparently. I'll talk about it later. Now when I talk about me, I seriously don't have any personal vendetta against both of them. That makes my mind and my soul in peace and that makes my vision and mission to win the Prestige Title a lot better.

That being said, I'm a little surprised based on the way they talk, Poet has better emotion than the champ himself. Well, he can make good to great poetries after all, so I would like to think that's what makes him have better control of emotions than Elijah Hampton.

Do you understand what I'm talking about, Elijah? Apparently the Smooth Operator isn't so smooth at controlling emotions. At first while you mentioned me as an enemy multiple times, you also mentioned me as a friend as much as you called me an enemy. You talked about the positive for the first time and even when I was about to celebrate my Immortal Heavyweight Title winning, you raised the Prestige Title to clinch it against my Immortal Heavyweight Title. but now it's all about the negative. A few months ago you mentioned about me fucking you over and now you said it again. That's fine. This is why I never call myself "The White Knight" or even a good guy. Most see me as a hope and the good of the earth, but I never bragged about it myself. I don't think anyone is perfect but that's so hypocritical of you when you mentioned me, Jacob Senn, and Darkane as the people who have shown our true colors, you already did it yourself. As far as I'm concerned, I'm going to be the first guy to bring this up. Back in 2021, actually, after you beat me for at that time, Hybrid Title, you introduced the Prestige Title right away to the world. That part was and still is cool. What isn't cool is that you said Shea Flaherty was weighing you down and you said it yourself you dropped him. Sure, maybe the two of you splitted up because you got drafted to Olympus while Shea at that time remained on Kingdom but you said yourself you dropped Shea Flaherty. If you weren't being drafted to Olympus, you most likely will attack Shea Flaherty. You hinted at it by saying you dropped him. That makes you not that trustworthy either isn't it Elijah? Senn and Darkane probably remember what you said about dropping Shea Flaherty. That's most likely one of the reasons why Senn and Darkane dropped you. If you believe in karma, that's a Shea Flaherty karma. With all that said, you did worse than I did. I joined the BBC and yes, I betrayed the fans when I did that, but I didn't betray you and any other fellow wrestlers by joining the BBC and in your words "I fucked you".....well, what did you expect in a street fight type of match? When "I fucked you", I only did what I have to do to win and I think that's the reason why you keep saying "I fucked you". It's because you can't stand the fact that I have a win over you. Sure it's not a one on one match, but you can't live with that fact. I have moved on from you beating me fair and square a long time ago but you still saying "I fucked you over". That's actually fine because that's only telling me you know I have a chance to walk out as the new Prestige Title by beating you….and Poet.

Speaking of Poet, I already said that you have better emotion control than Elijah Hampton and I appreciate it that you said I'm the real Immortal Heavyweight Champion in your eyes. Thank you for all the kind words and all the warnings that I should stay away from you….well, in normal circumstances, I think we have a better chance to stay away from each-others but we're already going to be in the same match together as competitors. You want to form a short alliance against Elijah Hampton? Maybe just maybe we can do that but also the key words are "short alliance" and this is a Triple Threat match and naturally we're only going to have one winner. Once again, I fully appreciated the kind words, but just like you, I want to win the Prestige Title too. And besides, you already said you'll take the belt away from me…wherever I'm the Immortal Heavyweight or Prestige Champion. I understand the enthusiasm and the hunger of you proving yourself in the major league, Poet, I really do and you have all the talents to be on the top of the mountain. Hell, I said it before, maybe in around 5 years, you'd become an OWA Hall of Famer if you stick around long enough. You're just really that good. I wouldn't be surprised if you become the Prestige Champion this soon actually. I just happen to have a mission to be a two time Prestige Champion. That's what it is. Sooner or later, you and I are going to cross paths and that will happen in this match. Therefore, I don't have a problem to be a "Good night" Nobi to say "Good night" to both of you and Elijah Hampton as the new and two times Prestige Champion.

Immortal Heavyweight, Prestige, Icarus, Tag Team, doesn't matter. I'm currently not a champion right now. What happened at Clash of Titans was nice but then the last Olympus made it a bitter taste. Therefore, now I have a chance to make it sweet again by becoming the new and two times Prestige Champion.

Alyssa Grace, 'Don' Hendrix, Remington Ivory Prescott and DT The Ruler have spoken. It’s such good shit!

El Landerson
Clash of The Titans
Post July 19th 2023, 3:57 am by El Landerson
[When El and Angie landerson are both inside of the PWA building they walked side to side and holding hands while Hugh Jess  runs towards to The Landersons]




Hugh Jess: landerson. how does it feel to be back on OWA.
OWA Promos 20230310_SD_Rey_EX--2c38b32e4b0efe633f9ca7a0a5492125
Bit Luchador|landerson: Coma Va. it feels great to be back on OWA when you spend a quality time with your Wife and family and now that I am back where I am rightfully am I will be apart of this Men's Clash of The Titans match at Clash of The Titans on OW network.




Hugh Jess: that's what I like to hear Mr landerson. and do you know what happens if that person from Olympus or Kingdom roster wins the Men's Clash of The Titans match The winner will earn there self an OWA World Championship Opportunity at Final Destination.


Bit Luchador|landerson: that's a really though one I mean ever since I entered The Thunder bastard match I was the last final Competitor and I was in the middle ring with Elijah Hampton and I had that match won until he reversed it into a roll up pin  and got the victory over me for The Immortal and Prestige Championship and now I'm entering this Men's Clash of The Titans and I will be the last final Competitor and earn myself a shot for Reginald Ivory Prescott Immortal Heavyweight Championship at Final Destination on OWA.




Hugh Jess: and what about your Opponents that's in the Men's Clash of The Titans at Clash of The Titans on OWA.


OWA Promos ReyHOF_nologo--f7e7c81e8b2f3737c734dcf3441eafb4
Bit Luchador|landerson: Brody. and Ravio better not meet one or another in the same ring because when that bell rings I will eliminate Raivo and Brody out of The Clash of The Titans match and I will be The last Lucha Standing and become the next Victim for Remington Ivory Prescott for his Immortal Heavyweight Title at Final Destination.




Hugh Jess: can you even defeat Ravio and Brody. in The Men's Clash of The titans at Clash of The Titans.




Bit Luchador|landerson:  only hows the Clash of The Titans match gonna turn out cause I nee this win mor than anyone that's on the Olympus and Kingdom roster and who know 's I could go after Elijah Hampton for his OWA Prestige Championship at Final Destination on OWA network.




Bit Luchador|landerson: before I forget Brody and Raivo. I'm gonna hit the both of you with the most three dangerous letter of OWA I'm dialing the number with The Six One Nine.
Booyka.




(landerson and Angie landerson walks off when Hugh Jess continues talking)




Hugh Jess: thanks for the support landerson. and good luck on Clash of The Titans.


Hugh Jess: We hope that landerson. can win this Men's Clash of The Titans match to see who gets to earn an Shot for the OWA Immortal Heavyweight Champion and heads to Road to Final Destination with Remington Ivory Prescott. on OWA Network.
DarkCircle
Re: OWA Promos
Post July 18th 2023, 8:46 pm by DarkCircle
{The screen is black until slowly it starts to brighten as the light source is revealed to be a roaring campfire somewhere in the woods and as the camera pulls back, we don't see anyone around the fire, but then we hear Ryo's voice begin to speak}


Ryo: You know, I get the fact that my match this week on Olympus is a rather serious one as Tatsuo and I will be challenging for the world tag team championships which are held by everybody's favorite pair of burnouts in Darkane and Arjen, the Seventh Ward...but I'm finding it incredibly hard to do so because all I want to do is just...well to be completely honest here, Laugh!


{Ryo then steps into the picture, placing his hands next to the fire with a faint grin on his face for a moment before it disappears as he looks over at the camera}


Ryo: I'm not laughing at Tatsuo because he was the only one out of the three of them who've cut promos for this match that actually had something NEW or perhaps maybe ORIGINAL to say about me being in this match. No, I'm wanting to laugh long and hard at the champions because they have nothing fucking new to say about me or this match at all.


I guess that it should be expected that you two burnouts couldn't come up with anything more original since you're constantly bringing up Eon Blue or something dark and or depressing each and every single time that you two appear on OWA television or god forbid, you actually cut a promo where the two of you aren't making yourselves look like a couple of characters from an early nineties anti-drug war movie that uses New York or Chicago for a backdrop.


{Ryo makes a very dry noise that's completely lacking in mirth}


Ryo: And if you think I'm fucking lying about it, then I dare the two of you bloody burned out nobodies to stand right here in front of me, look me dead in the fucking eyes, and come up with something original or just keep your fucking traps shut until I tell you two morons that you can *speak*!!


Now just because I'm not going around calling myself the Radical Dreamer, Invincible Dragon, Spear of the Dominion, or even the Grinning Demon anymore does NOT mean that I'm something that you can just write off like I didn't exist or anything like that because each and every time that someone else has tried to do that, I have that tendency to appear and bitch slap the taste right out of your mouth, don't I?


Brandon Sonny Forelli Hendrix, the Fake Cuppa-Soup Don that he is, kept saying that his match against me was going to be my last anywhere because he was going to break me and yet, here I am about to challenge for the World Tag Team championships...Rippy himself made the same boastful claim that he'd be the one to humiliate me to the point where nobody would ever talk about Ryo Sakazaki again...oh wait, here the *FUCK* I *AM*!!


And again and again and again, time and time again it is the exact same story constantly played on the loop because everyone has some kind of problem with my being here and I don't understand the exact reason as to WHY...but I am past caring about that shit now because at this stage, I'm choosing to focus my career more on what matters more to me.


Such as tearing those tag straps off of you and your boi, Darkane. 


You say that I'm not built to handle these supposed atrocities that are awaiting me via the Seventh Ward? Just like how you claim that I've downgraded from Mark Michaels to Tatsuo Sakaguchi and how I'm dragging him to his doom, Darkane? 


Mark is off taking out the Uwe Boll of Mafia Gimmicks so nobody has to listen to his fake ass bullshit any further, and I'm not dragging Tatsuo into anything that he’s not already charing headlong into and Ward Bois, we’re already geared up and ready for this and more than ready  to bring the pain to you two Burnouts in the Ward...because this will not be a fun match nor will it be a nice clean match, no Darkane and Arjen, Tatsuo and myself are coming to Night of Champions to tear those tag team titles from out of your hands as you boys hold them up like they mean something to you before we break those very same championships over your goddamn smug faces!!


{Ryo then suddenly kicks at something that causes the fire roar up even hotter and brighter that makes the camera stumble backwards for a moment before it quickly rights itself and aims right back at the former “Grinning Demon” as he looks hard at the camera}


Ryo: You see boys, unlike the two of you who are still living in the past…I’m living here and now in the chaos because that’s where all the good little fuckers who tow the kool aid line for guys like Devione and Drake do!? No, I’m down here in the trenches with my freaky brothers and sister in the World’s Finest, looking for a fight each and every way possible because that’s how I’ve always fucking rolled, even before I became a professional wrestler and Tatsuo is right, He's right in that I am a *dragon*, not because it's some kind of gimmick or anything like that but it's in my very *name*, Boys! Yes, I'm viewed as the fucking joke just because I've had my share of losses over the years, but yet I still pick myself up and I bust my ass nonetheless because in the end, you either evolve or you die...and I sure as shit ain't dying! 


I'm choosing to put my faith in Tatsuo because I can look into his eyes and I see the same kind of rage boiling beneath the surface that I feel each and every single time that I come out to that very ring for a match against stuck up, self absorbed little shits like you and Arjen, Darkane...but what we're going to do to the two of you at Olympus is going to be something that the two of you just aren't fucking expecting.


While Tatsuo and myself use the chaos to drag the two of you down and drown you in it, and then what we're going to do to you is...turn you into what you think of me. 


But when you boil everything right down, Tatsuo is going to witness me do something truly sickening…something that has been meaning to happen for a very long time to the both you;


I’m going to hurt the both of you.


I’m  going to laugh in both of your faces.


And then...I’m going to take both of your careers and I’m going to alter them.


*Forever*.


{A grim smile slowly appears on Ryo's face as another mirthless noise escapes him}


Ryo: It's also kind of funny that you mentioned that the Seventh Ward is the "Omegas of the Omega Wrestling Alliance." and how that makes you so proud...when the reality of the situation is that is actually quite sad because yes, you're the fucking end because you're nothing more than the scapegoats. 


The runts of the fucking littler left to die in the wilds of the concrete jungles of the cities or the harsh open ranges of the woodlands...but in the end, it really doesn't matter because unlike the two of you, I'm not afraid of throwing myself full force into the fucking hurricane, Arjen. 


But the pure irony is that you and your partner both, Arjen, keep saying that I'm at war with the two of you because of some past match.


No, that is your own delusions...your own falsehoods, Arjen. 


Lies that you and Darkane have given yourself from your horrendously filtered cups of Flavor-Aid swell that you and Darkane keep gorging yourselves and your little followers on without rhyme nor reason like its Jonestown up in your place or some shit like that.


{Ryo stops and then slowly takes a walk around the fire, looking away from the camera to study it for several long seconds before stopping on the right side of the roaring flames to look back at the camera}


Ryo: But I will freely admit that Arjen is correct in that I am at a fork in the road where my career is concerned, and despite what everyone has thought of me…I am still RIGHT *HERE* in the Omega Wrestling Alliance. I have won titles when people have loudly declared that I wasn’t fucking going to and while I may not have held onto them for very long due to other people’s fucking egos getting in the way, it does not change the fact that I’ve won my fair share of titles. 


Just like at Olympus when Tatsuo and I become the *NEW* World Tag Team champions as we rip them from the bloody stumps where the Seventh Ward’s hands once were. 


I’m not here to hammer in a sob story like Arjen believes, I don’t need to because I know that certain people in this company hate me because I don’t tow the line nor do I kiss any kind of ass backstage, and because of this there is a glass ceiling on my career here in the OWA to which I know that no matter how hard I bust my ass for this company, certain…people won’t let me go any higher because I disgust them.


Why? What have I done to disgust people might you ask?


{Ryo shrugs}


Ryo: I really don’t fucking care anymore. 


I cared once upon a time because I felt the righteous need to shove my right foot down their fucking throats until they were shitting out my bootlaces…but I’ve long since stopped caring about even doing that because directing all of that hatred was simply a complete waste of my time. 


No.


If you people, and you know who you are, want to put a glass ceiling on my career, then you can go right ahead and do that if it makes you feel all special bloody snowflake…but don’t be surprised when one day you go around bragging about how great you are only to find yourselves walking on broken glass right before a size twelve LARGE catches you right in the chin and knocks you the fuck out!!


Darkane, Arjen…it doesn’t really matter what you think of me going into Olympus this week because all your doing is simply giving me more and more of a reason to show you what atrocities really look like as I will deliver one upon you after another until you finally scream No More and you beg for me to end your suffering at my hands to which I will only answer softly;


No.


You see, I entered the final countdown of the OWA as the Invincible Dragon. Full of pomp and fury in dire hopes of being the kind of hero that this company needed or so I thought before I suffered through my own twisted dreams, one after another until finally I was the one who laughed as the Grinning Demon smiled at you all….but I didn’t lose my fury, and I most certainly didn’t lose my rage.


Oh no.


Because I actually feel sorry for the two of you because clowns and jesters, such as the two of you, are the ones you can not save. Because you're going to be left behind, cold and hungry by Tatsuo and I's mighty hands for we have such glorious suffering to show the both of you.


And in the end, as Tatsuo and I are holding up our new titles...he might be laughing as he watches your Ward burn like Nero and Rome. But I won’t be laughing…because every dark tale needs its own Gwynplaine.


And I am him


See you at Olympus, boys.


{Ryo then walks away into the darkness as the fire continues to burn before the screen suddenly fills with static then nothing}

DT The Ruler, Lazarus Arjen, Tyler Kulina and grandcaster have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Remington Ivory Prescott
You People.
Post July 18th 2023, 8:14 pm by Remington Ivory Prescott
You People
OWA Promos GLl2yX

Remington Ivory Prescott stands at the huge window in his office. He's looking out over the city, staring at the lights that keep the night sky as illuminated as if the sun were still beaming brightly. His suit jacket has been tossed onto one of the sofas in his office and if he weren't so stylishly put together he'd look disheveled.

All over the office there are various piles and stacks of paperwork. As if PresCorp has been in some very serious research mode. There are even plates of mostly eaten expensive delivery food located all over the place as well.

The look on Remington's face as he looks out of the window is one of calm thought. He doesn't seem to be too worried or nervous about anything but he does look as though he's thinking. Whatever is going on, it seems to have the bulk of his attention.

The doors to his office have been left open to make the ease of traveling from his office to other locations in Prescott Tower one step easier. Which is why the arrival of Ms. Graves, sporting a messy after hours hair look, happens so smoothly.

"Mr. Prescott, I found it." Ms. Graves waves a folder around as she wanders up towards Prescott's desk.

There's a beat where Remington closes his eyes to prepare himself before he turns his back onto the city and focuses his attention on Ms. Graves and the folder. "Good news?" He almost sounds worried. Almost.

Ms. Graves' lips curl up from a pensive position to a proud smirk. "Fantastic." She extends a hand with the folder, which is black with gold 'PresCorp' logos stamped all over it by the way, towards her boss.

Prescott raises an eyebrow as he hesitates for just a moment before reaching out to take the folder. He flips it open and makes a skeptical face as he looks down at the contents. That skepticism almost immediately fades into something so much more excited... and with a bit of a sinisterness hidden just beyond.

"Oh. Oh, this is good." Remington raises his eyes to look at his assistant. "Ms. Graves, I must say you've managed to outdo yourself this time." Remington looks back down at the contents of the folder. "How long have you been working for me? You're a recent hire if I'm not mistaken?"

"You are correct, sir." Ms. Graves is damn near beaming with pride during this interaction. "About a month and some change."

"Excellent." Remington flips the folder closed. "Keep coming up with inspired ideas like this one?" Remington holds the folder up. "And PresCorp will damn near rule the world. Which means you will be sitting on top of an impressive pile of money."

"Thank you, sir." Ms. Graves tucks her hair behind her ear. "Will you be needing anything else, Mr. Prescott?"

Remington reaches for his jacket but Ms. Graves is already there. She opens it up for her boss to slide into it. The folder switches hands as he does so.

"Actually, yes." Remington turns around to face her and Ms. Graves slips his signature scarf around his neck, smoothing it out for a moment. "You."

Ms. Graves stutters for the moment. "I'm sorry, sir? I don't--"

There's a dismissive wave of his hand to get those thoughts out of her mind. "No." Prescott rolls his eyes for just a moment. "I need you to come with me. I have an incredibly busy week ahead of me, what with all of the OWA business and then this..." Remington holds up the folder. "I'm going to need an extra set of hands."

"Uh, understood. I can definitely be that for you, Mr. Prescott. When are we leaving?"

Remington tosses a set of keys to Ms. Graves. "Now." And with that said, he's already moving around the desk to exit his office. "We'll pick up Renfield on the way."

Ms. Graves quick-steps to catch up, grabbing her tablet and phone on the way out of the double doors after him.


* * * * *

Carlos. Carlos. Carlos.

I don't know why I say your name three times like that. I figure maybe it's like a Beetlejuice thing? You know, if I do that then maybe you'll disappear forever and no one will ever have to deal with you and your zombification fetish when it comes to your career. We could just bury you in the backyard somewhere and the Omega Wrestling Alliance won't have to deal with you trying to 'make a comeback' every time you feel like you're not getting the attention you believe you deserve. Or when you run out of Kool-Aid.

It's kind of sad, if I'm being honest. But to each their own. I happen to have other things going on in my life besides jumping into That Very Ring and challenging much younger and much more talented individuals to matches that have nothing to do with them. I have, what most people refer to as, a life.

That being said, I do think what you're doing is a bit admirable. Since Nobi and Mark Michaels' treacherous attempt to vilely acquire the Immortal Heavyweight Championship from around my waist, the buck seems to have fallen to you to do something about me. There's a distasteful rebellion that seems to be forming and you all seem to think that the Tres Comas Club is not the future of Olympus. Of the OWA.

You're wrong.

Now, I could take this moment to talk about the plans of the Tres Comas Club. About what we have in store for everyone that doesn't fall in line. But that would ruin the surprise. I'd much rather leave such things for you all to experience first hand. There truly is no other way to handle people like you, Carlos. I've had to deal with quite a few of them since blessing the OWA with my presence. You're just the next one in a long line of thorns in my side. Noah Reigner, Mark Michaels, Elijah Hampton, Nobi...

And now Carlos Rosso.

What it boils down to is that no matter what comes in my direction, no matter which one of you idiots have decided to try and take me out, I remain. I do not falter. I do not quit. I always find a way to push forward and achieve every single goal of mine. Even if that means I have to put my opponent in the ground or carve him up like a Jive Turkey on Thanksgiving. Remington Ivory Prescott is willing to do whatever it takes to keep Olympus in the hands of those that actually know what we're doing.

Carlos. It's Never Should've Beens like yourself that are going to ruin the future of OWA. By simply being here. You should've taken the hint and stayed away because now you're becoming a hindrance and an obstacle to Olympus moving forward. To the Tres Comas Club's vision of the future of OWA. The longer you continue to try and hold on to your glory days where we all must unfortunately watch you go through these tired motions, the worse off it is for everyone. You really should just let this whole thing go.

But you can't do that, can you? You've always had a bit of an anger problem, haven't you? I'm not going to even claim to know the Sordid History of Carlos Rosso but I've heard some things. I know what happens when you don't get your way. The tantrums and the violence that comes with that.

I welcome all of it.

You see, Carlos, while I may have been an opportunistic coward before, the Tres Comas Club has given me the opportunity to see my true potential. They've given me the chance to come out of my shell. I've been handed the clouds of Mount Olympus and now I can finally be my true self. When that bell rings, I don't consider it the start of a match... I look at it as the end of your life. I no longer play games, now I play for keeps. And while I know you think it's honorable or cool or whatever to defend Nobi's honor, that man's disrespect is going to get YOU hurt.

Is that something you're prepared for? Is your Medicaid still active? Is your life insurance policy all paid up? These are the questions I hope you're considering before we go toe-to-toe with each other at Night of Champions. Because I plan on dismantling your entire legacy. I plan on complete and utter obliteration of everything that you hold dear.

Sure, defending my Immortal Heavyweight Championship from the likes of people like you is important but what is equally important to me is that I just simply get to hurt you. I've been waiting a long time to unleash the darkness that I've always held within. The world got a taste when I butchered Hampton. I still owe Mark Michaels a hearty death. But since you've decided to stick your nose into business that is not yours, I think I'll do the world a favor and make it Rossoless.

Carlos, I want you to know and understand that while normally this would simply be a matter of business, I've taken your disrespect and your blatantly wrong choices... I've taken all of that personally. Your inability to leave your past behind you and the insertion of yourself into a world that no longer concerns you, no longer wants you, no longer cares about you. That's just the tip of the iceberg. That's what we call not respecting the boundaries that the Tres Comas Club has put into place.

So. I want you to do something for me, Carlos. When this is all over. When I've broken you down piece by piece with yet another triumphant performance of talent, skill and unadulterated violence the likes of which Mount Olympus has yet to see, I want you to do the world a favor and disappear. Go away. Remove yourself from the industry with a sliver of dignity knowing that you had one last run and that it was not worth it. I want you to pick up what's left of your spirit, slap a band-aid on the blood that will be gushing forth from your empty skull and take a moment to realize that everything you've done has been for naught. All of your anger. All of your rebellious indignation. All of your disrespect. Your entire attempt at a revival of the legacy that nobody actually cares about will have been a complete and obvious waste of time. And you should absolutely be ashamed of yourself for even entertaining the thought of stepping into the ring with the Merchant of Violence: Remington Ivory Prescott.

This will not have the storybook ending that you think it will. This will not be the "great" Carlos Rosso's time to shine. This will not be the comeuppance that I'm sure so many of the people out there believe that it will be. I have never been more ready to set the world on fire and RIP versus Carlos Rosso will be the match that sparks the fire that sets the world ablaze.

The fact of the matter is simply this...

I am Remington Ivory Prescott.

The Ace of the Tres Comas Club.

The Merchant of Violence.

The Necessary Evil.

The Omega Wrestling Alliance Immortal Heavyweight Champion.

And I don't give a shit what Carlos Rosso says, does, wishes, dreams up, has planned or is planning or anything else that his type tries to pull out of his ass. When we both step into that ring at Arthur Ashe Stadium. In Queens, New York. For Night of Champions. There is only one thing that every single person in attendance will be able to witness with their own eyes. Every single person will have the opportunity to watch as I, quite simply, put the final nail into the coffin of Carlos Rosso.

R.I.P.

Alyssa Grace, Darkane, Elijah Hampton, Rebecca Filth, 'Don' Hendrix, DT The Ruler, Lazarus Arjen and have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Poet
Re: OWA Promos
Post July 18th 2023, 7:55 am by Poet
From the desk of Poet


The slow clap echoed through the study as Poet smiled down at the camera.  There was a glint in his eye, almost as if he had been amused by something unexpected as he did so.  This wasn’t a clap to congratulate someone.  It was a clap acknowledging something that… wasn’t as good as he had hoped.  A clap given to a teenager who finally cleans their room without being asked.  A clap given to a motorist who is able to stay within the lines for more than 10 seconds at a time.  A clap given to a wrestler whose had a go at a retort and… well, done okay. 


After a few more moments, Poet stops clapping and rests his hands on the desk.

“Well done Elijah.  I have to say that I was really impressed with the overall quality of your retort.  If I was a teacher I’d even go so far as to give you the student of the week award.  It would read something like:

To:  Elijah Hampton
For: Working hard at improving his ability to speak in front of a large group.

“And then you could come out, get your award and have your photo taken by your mummy and daddy.  You can even put the award on your fridge and think about how hard you worked at responding to someone else’s arguments.  It’s clear that speaking persuasively isn’t your strong suit, but you had a go anyway, and for that you deserve to be commended.”

“You see, in your response, you let everyone see a few cracks in your façade.  You like to come across as egotistical and confident, yet underneath, you’re anything but.  You took the comments about your nicknames personally and tried to pass them off as names that are nothing more than ‘tongue in cheek’, but no-one with a modicum of a brain cell would believe that for a second.  You put those names out there, wear them as a badge of honour, as if they give you some sort of credibility within this company.  Yet, we all see them for what they are.  Names that mask an increasing sense of insecurity and worry about your position in the upper echelon of Olympus.  You’re desperate for the attention, desperate for people to like you.  But when they walk by the Elijah Hampton shop window, they see all the good things – the flashy moves, the nicknames, the poses… and then when they walk inside the shop itself, look deeper into who you are, they find that there is simply nothing there.  You’re an empty shell.  And it shows in your responses.  You will focus on my hair, my name, my status here in the company… and that’s it.  You’ve got nothing more to offer.”

Poet then opens up the notebook, taking out a piece of paper as he does so.

“Now, let’s address a few things that you brought up in your interview.  Firstly, the fact that I mentioned that I would be walking out of Kingdom as the Prestige Champ.  Or was it Odyssey.  Or, hand on, perhaps it was Olympus?  What I did was get a transcript of the interview I conducted a few days ago.  Now, let me go right to the end here where we see the word… Olympus.  There it is.  There could be a splash of white out in the area, but it says here… Olympus.  Go back and have a read for yourself Elijah, if you have the ability to do so.  It seems as though you don’t look as closely as you say you do.  But, then again, who hasn’t made a mistake?  Who hasn’t sat here and missed a word, changed a word or even mixed them up?  You’re telling me that ‘Thesaurus’ Hampton hasn’t made a few errors in his time?  Give me a spell.  Has The Snazzy Boy also become ‘Grammar Police’ Hampton as well?  Wouldn’t hurt if you added an extra nickname to the list to go with the 178 you have already."

“And now we come to Nobi.  This is where you really showed your true colours.  On one hand, you are critical of the Tres Comas Club’s actions, and in the next breath, you accept their movement of the goal posts and agree with their decision to strip Nobi of the title.  You see, my acknowledgement of Nobi wasn’t an error.  Rather than not watch the product, I’ve done the very opposite.  I’ve looked at it very, very closely.  And in my eyes, Nobi IS the champion.  Remington Ivory Prescott might have taken the title away, but that means little to me.  Nobi walked out of Clash as the winner of that match and, in my eyes, is the real champion here.  Rather than pander to the Tres Comas Club and accept their decision – which is in keeping with the sort of person you are, one who is scared to stand up to a few wrestlers who might hurt him – I’ll back Nobi all the way.  I know that title is going to end up back around his waist, and when it does, I’ll be there to take it away from him, just like I’ll be taking your title away from you in a few days time.”

Poet then folds the piece of paper back up and puts it to the side.  He flicks through a few pages of his notebook, then takes a small sip from the glass of whiskey that sits next to him.

“So, what do we have at the end of all this?  A clearer understanding of who Elijah Hampton really is.  He is a coward, he is insecure, and he is deathly afraid of his position within this company.  You know, deep down, that I’m here to stay and I look forward to making you beg for mercy at Olympus in a few days time.  I’ve already proven that I’ve got what it takes, having received a title match within just a few months of my time in the company, and that scares you.  You even said it yourself; you don’t pay attention to those who arrive in the company.  As always, you’re too wrapped up in yourself, too worried about where you stand.  And you’ve taken your eye off the ball and, for that, I’m going to make you pay in full.”

“Now, before I move on, I want to talk about you, Nobi.  I meant every word I said before – in my eyes, you’re the champ.  The Remington Shaver might have found a way to take that title back, but that doesn’t matter much to me.  You’re the man right now, and you’ve been wronged.  My attention won’t be directed at you, but if you need it, I’ll help you get that title back… just so I can turn around and take it off you.  So when we step into the ring at Olympus, I want you to take a good, long, hard look at the man who is going to take your title away the moment you get it into your hands.  Like I said, my focus won’t be on you.  Hell, if you stay out of my way, I’ll stay out of yours.  I want a piece of ‘Hung like a Button Mushroom’ Hampton, and I want his title.  You can either help me do it by staying out of the way, or you can stick your nose in, and you can become ‘Good Night’ Nobi instead.  It’s entirely up to you.”

Poet goes to continue when his secretary walks in.  She whispers something in his ear and then gives him a small note.  Poet grimaces a little as she leaves.

“So, it looks like I need to cut his one short.  My brother is on the phone and he only calls once every blue moon, and it’s normally because he needs money to piss away on beer.  I mean, what sort of person just drinks beer?  Anyway, I’m getting off topic.”

“Elijah, because you felt the need to poke fun at the fact I enjoy a bit of poetry – I mean, shoot me for having some class and an education – I spent a bit of time thinking about what I could write about you and the type of poetry I could use.  I thought about rolling with a Haiku but, like an Ode, that’s for something that puts a smile on your face.  I could have gone with an Acrostic poem but I thought using the word ‘Jerk Off’ for J was a little low brow for me, so I didn’t go with it.  I then considered writing your Elegy but it didn’t feel like the right time.  So, this week I’ve rolled with a single verse limerick.  It’s one of those poems that gives me the freedom to add my own flavour in any way I see fit.  It’s the perfect opportunity to bring things down to your level and have a bit of fun.  I mean, if you can call yourself ‘Hunky Hampton’, then I’m sure you can handle a little limerick… yeah?  So, here we go…

There once was a man named Elijah
Who instead of a penis had a vagina
Wouldn’t you know it
He was beaten by Poet
So why don’t you fucking cry harder?

“I’ll see you both at Odyssey… sorry, was that Kingdom?  You take a few knocks to the head, write a little limerick and you get forgetful… I’ll see you both at Olympus where I’ll be walking out as the new, OWA Prestige Champ.  A little gold in the study here would look rather nice, wouldn’t it?”

Poet then smiles to the camera and picks up his glass of whiskey as the scene fades to black…

Alyssa Grace, 'Don' Hendrix, Remington Ivory Prescott and grandcaster have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Elijah Hampton
Re: OWA Promos
Post July 18th 2023, 1:03 am by Elijah Hampton
“Even with all the pressing matters I must deal with on a daily basis, I would like to think that for the most part, I have a finger on the pulse of all things Olympus related. As in what matches happened the week before, what matches will happen at a later date, what was said by certain people — whether it be in the arena’s ring or backstage area, or at another location entirely, such as Devione Industries or the gypsy caravan park. But at the same time, you can only juggle so much. As I make my preparations for my upcoming matches and keep a close eye on those who did me dirty in recent memory — sorry, I’m guilty of holding grudges — I’m working on it. With all of that on my plate, some things and some people are bound to slip between the cracks. Such as the new crop of talent. I can puff my chest out and say it’s because I normally don’t squabble with them in the first place because of where I stand on the food chain as opposed to them. That they have to earn their stripes before they get to tango with me in the lion’s den. When the fact is, it has nothing to do with my ego. And boy do I have one. I’ve openly admitted to it before on numerous occasions. But it’s because of the turnover rate. Most of the fresh meat in OWA goes bad after a week tops. They can’t hack it. And the next thing you know, they poof into thin air. Gone without a trace. This is OWA. An entirely different beast than any other federation out there. It ain’t for the faint-hearted, I’ll tell you that much. So if you don’t show something — some promise, some potential, some poise — then they’ll nudge you out the door because the three rosters are loaded as is. So when I say I didn’t know much about Poet, a guy that’s only been here for a few weeks — can you blame me? I want to see if he has some staying power first before I get fully invested in his career and what he will do next. And only time will tell. Let’s see where he’s at a month from now, six months from now, or even a year. If he’s still here, that is. But with him now being a challenger for my Prestige Championship, I see him. I’m no longer just giving him a passing glance in the hallway, but I’m staring daggers straight into his soul. I know him. I know the kinda guy he is. I now know his name too, which means I no longer have to refer to him as the guy with the Kraft Mac & Cheese perm in catering. He’s Poet. The poem guy. Naming himself after the only thing he’s good at. It’s smart. But trying me, wasn’t. Soon he shall see the error of his ways. If he hasn’t already.”

“Your rebuttal, you thought you did something, didn’t you? Smirking away, patting yourself on the back, masturbating away furiously to your own material. When it was poor. It was sloppy. And it was amateurish. Fumbling over your word, while later this week, you will fumble away this title opportunity. And fumble the bag in the process. So it’s probably for the best if you stick to your prewritten gibberish in that notebook of yours moving forward, rather than going off script because that’s when things go south in a hurry. Now, some could say I’m just spouting nonsense right now. When I say some, I mean Poet himself. ‘You’re just saying that, Elijah!’ That it’s just my personal vendetta against him doing the talking. When to me, this isn’t personal in the first place. He’s just another opponent. But that doesn’t stop him from trying to make this more than what it is. Like for instance, when you call me ‘overrated’ and ‘boring’, and ‘average’. First of all, am I overrated or average? Pick one. Or are you just rattling off words of belittlement for the hell of it? But if you believe in your heart of hearts that I am all those things and more — or I guess, less, that’s fine by me. I’m aware that I’m not everyone’s cup of tea. Just like I’m aware that the more success you achieve, the more naysayers you will get crawling from out of the woodwork to question your legitimacy. Add Poet to the list. You weren’t the first, and you certainly won’t be the last. Join the line. There are snacks and refreshments on your left. But luckily for you, nobody will ever hurl the insult of ‘overrated’ in your direction. Because they don’t rate you in the first place. Now, with that said, let’s backtrack to when I said your message was a little sloppy. I will provide a couple of brief examples to support my claim, so don’t worry. Because unlike you, I came prepared. See, it humors me when you talk about how you conducted some extensive research on moi in your free time. You didn’t really. You didn’t dig beneath the surface. You didn’t hit me with some hard-hitting breaking news that would cause the ground beneath me to shake. You went on a tangent about my nicknames. Most of which, are tongue-in-cheek. I thought that was a given. But in return, you thought you got me cornered with your gotcha journalism. Is that what we are doing here? With everything I’ve done here in OWA, whether it be my highs, or whether it be my lows from my large catalog of matches — I mean, I have a huuuuge body of work that you could rip into and use it to your advantage — and all you did was go to my profile on OWA.com, which was probably written by an intern, and thought to yourself okay, that’s enough research? Weak. You’re just tightly grasping at straws and slowly developing carpal tunnel because of it. But whatever. Now, for the examples of your sloppy mishaps. I will just stick to two because you’re new and I don’t want to completely go in. Not trying to destroy your career or anything before you actually have one. Example number one, you don’t even know the name of the show that this title match will be taking place on. ‘And these fans will see it when I walk out of Odyssey as the new Prestige Champion.’ It’s Olympus. Olympus is the name of the brand you wrestle on. Olympus is the name of the brand you are signed to. I get it, they both start with o. It’s just a rookie making rookie mistakes, so let’s just chalk it up to that. Example number two of you not doing your homework: You’re under the impression that Nobi is ‘still’ Immortal Heavyweight Champion, when he never was, due to Tres Comas Club’s constant need of bending the rules and moving of the goalposts in order for them to come out on top. For them to look good in their minds when they just look like chumps. And soft. Charmin soft little bitches. So last week, Nobi handed over the Immortal Heavyweight Championship back to RIP. Moments before Nobi gave him a beating. And rightfully so. So when you say things like, ‘You might have that title around your waist’ or ‘your title might not be on the line’ to Nobi, it just shows how lazy you are. That you don’t pay attention to the product. Or I guess you could just spin it to being selfish or whatever to save face. That you did this all on purpose because the only energy you need to exert is when you step between those ropes and come face-to-face with me. But we both know the truth. Again, just a rookie making rookie mistakes. Something you can’t be doing when you’re facing two highly accomplished vets. You’re way in over your head. That much is obvious. Which is a shame, really. Because I had high hopes for you. Well, others did. But I believed them — foolishly. I believed in their word-of-mouth praise of Poet. Like when Mark Stephens hyped up our pending Prestige Championship match before Nobi decided to crash our date and third-wheel us. He gave it the tagline of ‘The Present and the future’, which is thrown around a little too loosely in general — but referring to someone with one win as the future is next level. Not only that, but Mark followed it up by saying, ‘in what will be a match to remember, I’m sure.’ Just sucks you won’t be remembering shit after this. Then again, you barely remember anything as is, since obtaining information is one of your many weak points. CTE ain’t something to play with. Go get yourself checked out.”

“While you do that, I’ll have a civil conversation with Nobi. Ready? Cool. So like, I’m going to be brutally honest with you here, since that’s what ‘pals’ do. Every time I see your face, every time I hear your voice — I feel — conflicted. On the one hand, I realize all the good you’ve done. I see the trails that you yourself helped blaze. I recognize your accomplishments. Most of which, you won the right way. With honor, with sheer will and fighting spirit. Being a beacon of hope while the rest of the world continues to fade to black. We need that. And I firmly believe that the professional wrestling community continues to need you. Because you check all the boxes of what a parent would want when it comes to their children looking up to and later on, idolizing, from the OWA roster. But then, on the other hand, I’m still not overly fond of you. Perhaps this goes back to the whole ‘holding grudges’ thing that I just can’t seem to correct or at least improve on. Be that as it may, I do believe that my wishy-washy opinion of you is justified. You see — there was a period of time when you weren’t this squeaky-clean role model that could do no wrong. As if you had the personality of a golden retriever. No. Instead, you — you kinda tried to fuck on me. Not even tried, you did. During this time, you made my life as an Olympus competitor — a little less enjoyable. By joining the BBC. And later on, helping them take away some of The Dynasty’s hardware. Which just so happened to include this Prestige Championship. With the help of outside inference from Titan and Alex Carter and others. So in the present, when you talk about TCC and their malicious ways of handling business — it’s kind of a prime example of the pot calling the kettle black. But back when you were with BBC, you never really hesitated to flip our lives upside down, even if it was only momentarily. You had no qualms with giving us beatdowns when our backs were turned or when you mocked us, with Maggall and Bad Boy Know in tow. You chose and sided with the likes of them over us. And over the fans. So when you talk about how I’m this great wrestler, this great champion, this decent human being — I’m not sure I fully believe you. Because of our pasts intertwining. Because you showed your true colors. Much like Senn. Much like Darkane. And I kinda still resent you for all of that. And for that reason, I can’t just sweep that period of time under the rug and be buddy-buddy with you. I still have a score to settle with you. And we will settle it. Inside that ring. On Olympus.”

Alyssa Grace, Darkane, Mark Michaels, 'Don' Hendrix, Remington Ivory Prescott, DT The Ruler, Lazarus Arjen and grandcaster have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Mami's Favorite Chew Toy
Re: OWA Promos
Post July 17th 2023, 2:10 pm by Mami's Favorite Chew Toy
Location: Santa Monica Pier, Los Angeles, California
Time: 7:00 P.M.
Date: 7/16/2023
OWA Promos Venti-views-Bb30Sjvj-lE-unsplash


We Ride With The Tides…

(We open to the Santa Monica Pier, around evening time. The sun is starting to kiss the horizon to the west, as night is about to fall upon the city of angels. A drone camera is flying around the pier showcasing the various people, the amusement park at the end, and even flies below and through the many wooden supports. As it comes back up at the very end of the pier a lone man stands against the railing smoking a cigar, looking out into the ocean at the sun, and the ships. Allesandro Devastation stands unmoved as he stares. He blows a perfect O-Ring of smoke where you can see it encompass the silhouette of the sun before dissipating into the wind. He begins to speak without taking his eyes off of the sunset.)

I awaited what you would say, Brody. And I will say this, you did not disappoint…

(Allesandro takes another puff of his cigar, and blows the smoke away before continuing.)

You speak of the American Dream like it is something nobody once coveted. And you speak of the Wrestleworld Island like nobody ever walked into it who was established. And you speak of me like I live off of my father, and haven't done anything in life to showcase why you should be concerned about what I am going to do to you on Olympus. So for you, the unengaged, allow me to paint you a picture here and go over these points..

(Allesandro snaps his fingers as ten drones fly from under the pier and begin to project something with the horizon and the setting sun as a backdrop. The scene that opens before them is that of an old, extremely large castle. As we large doors open the picture changes as it follows inside the castle showing the silhouette of a woman on a throne, with a glass of wine in her hand. Around her you can see the silhouette of a woman on the right with a sword charging the queen, and a woman on the left with a gun aimed at the queen. In the background you can see a smokey figure high above with the horns and deep red eyes.)

It is a tale as old as the birth of Wrestleworld. Claudia Michaels, the Architect of that very Dream had a stranglehold on that title. And the mongrels known as Stephanie Matsuda, and April Song both fought valiantly for a year to try and dethrone her. Every attempt failed like the last, as Claudia surrounded herself with her Underworld, which I crept my way into. Friends close and enemies closer, you know that old line I am sure. The World's Finest came along as well. And while the battles were waging on the outside, from the inside of this mighty beast I grew my own plan like a cancer. And as the days went by, they turned to weeks. And then I had it in my hands, a sapphire briefcase for a championship match for the American Dream title anytime I chose. And yes, young Maverick sent me to a hospital via a semi truck. Little did he know that was a part of my plan, fade away as it were. Then come back and strike when the world would stand still.  Stephanie Matsuda had her glory, she dethroned Claudia while I was away. So instead of gaining a bit of ironic vengeance against the fallen queen, I had to face Stephanie Matsuda when I returned many months later and cashed in. Then, Tyranny reigned. And you see Brody, the legacy of that championship goes back years, with people who fought for it harder than any other championship on the Wrestleworld Island. Learn your history, mutt, because the main stays here in OWA, Sabertooth, Asakura, even your owner Scott Oasis came to that island at one point. Glory was sought after by all who arrived and left. But one thing most was sought after more so than the glory of winning a championship or being the best. The world around us, after I made my return, wanted nothing more than to come and take what was mine. The Dream was held by The Tyrant they made me into and they wanted my head for it, and that alone was worth more than championships the others held. You see Brody, when the title is just an object you hold when you win the real prize, that just shows how great the champion truly was. Let me give you a list: Driver, Baker, Stark, Matsuda, Jones. The names may not mean anything to you, but half of that list did not even work for Wrestleworld and came in with the sole purpose of ending me. And yet, none of them could leave a mark. Because I stand here, just as I stood on the Wrestleworld Island and you come at me like they did. The difference is this though Brody, these men and women while I did not like them, nor did I respect them. I at least did acknowledge the things they had done in the world of Wrestling. You however…You have been here long enough to think you have this well at hand. So you too, think you can come out here and stand across from me, the embodiment of that Dream, and see me as the prize and not the title. You have one shot, and you will miss it. That's the whole story in a nutshell and you are to stupid to realize the ending that’s coming because you think you can write your own story here. But you are not the writer of my fate, you are a mere footnote in my story. The legacy of that championship is not the title itself, it never truly has been. It's always been about beating the person who holds it. Whether it was Claudia Michaels, or myself. The greatest people to hold that gold belt in their possession were the prize. And I can tell you to your face, you will never be amongst the likes of me, or the fallen queen known as Claudia Michaels. You will never be amongst the likes of April Song and Stephanie Matsuda, mongrels that they are, but they are lightyears ahead of you. Maybe one day you can be like Jay Jones, the one holder of the title nobody cares to speak about, and hold this when I am done having it around. Because unlike my father, well I grow bored of this hobby from time to time. And like the tides, my interests shift from time to time…

(Allesandro snaps his fingers again, and the picture before us created by the holographic projection drones changes to another, seeing a man, no a King. As he is on horseback trotting along with his armies behind him, marching into a different land. We see the king's armies trample through villages, and take the rival capital city as the Golden King sits upon his new throne. As time goes by the king stays the same, as servants come and go, as do the ages. This king eventually stands, as time moves faster around him he walks with a slower pace and eventually gets to the doors of the throne room. He pushes them open and as the light floods in, he walks into that light as the scene changes to that same king, now in a suit and tie, stepping up the steps to Devione Industries, marching past the two dragon statues out front. He steps into the building as we transition to his private office, with him meeting with the board of directors, as an assistant sits his carafe of fresh coffee down. As she exits she closes the doors, revealing the nameplate to read Allesandro Devione.)

I make my own fortune, and I master my own fate. I took something my father had in Devione Industries, and turned it from a vanity project of his and made it into something that revolutionized the world. The name Allesandro Devione in the world of business, science, entertainment, and security. I am a mogul, you mongrel. And Allesandro Devione in these circles is the status quo. Not because my father opened doors for me, but because I knocked down every door in front of me and made sure that the world knew that this Devione was not looking for a vanity project to stroke his own ego. But that I was as I am in the world of wrestling, I am like a dragon sweeping the land reigning down fire upon everything I see to cleanse and make a new. And this week will be just like any time I have damned another company and all the souls inside of it to a life of bitter defeat as my regime grows stronger by the day. Brody you have nothing that can stop me, or even slow me down. You are like the little mom and pop start-up on the street corner of a neighborhood. Yes, all the locals will love you and everything you can do for them and smile all day long. But as soon as the mall is built a block away, what will those same people do? They flock to what is bigger and better, they show their admiration for the architecture, for the design, and for how flashy everything is. I represent that mall Brody, I represent big business that will drive insignificant little worms like you into the ground without a second glance. Take that as you will, which I am sure you will not take seriously. Which in a way will be sadistically funny. It's like a fly buzzing around a spider's web and when it gets stuck and the spider is inching closer along the strings of its silk prison the realization happens. I wonder how surprised you will look when it happens, when the thought actually comes across your mind that you are trapped. That you are actually in way above your head and a simple loss is not what this is going to be. I have a statement to make this Olympus, and you will be a very good assistant to that. So until then, enjoy some sun. The beaches here are great for surfing I hear. Just stay out of the deep waters, you never know when a shark will come along and bite your fucking head off..

(Allesandro snaps his fingers once more, as the drones before him stop their projections and immediately dive into the water, and a moment later you can see what looks like shark fins near the shores where beach goers are swimming. As this happens you can hear the screams of the people and the sirens warning swimmers out of the water. Allesandro flicks what was left of his cigar into the water and you can hear his laugh as he walks away towards the entrance to the pier where his private limousine is waiting.)

Mav., Alyssa Grace, DT The Ruler, Tyler Kulina and grandcaster have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Brody
Re: OWA Promos
Post July 17th 2023, 11:51 am by Brody
The Joe Rogan Experience
Episode 2,009
Monday, 17th July 2023


“Who inspires me the most? Easy, bro. My Grampa. No doubt.”
 
“Oh yeah? How so?”
 
“Bro. Where do I even begin? I don’t think I’ve ever felt more safe than when I was sittin’ on his knee, listenin’ to his World War II stories, an’ lookin’ through his photo albums. It was through him I learned the true meanin’ of strength. Not just physical strength, but strength of character, too. He showed me that success is not just measured by material possessions but by the impact we have on the lives of others.”
 
“Wow. He seems like quite a man.”
 
“Seemed, Joe. Unfortunately, he passed a few years ago. Old Timers Disease.”
 
“Old Timers Disease? The fuck is that?”
 
“Like, he started forgettin’ shit an’ shit, y’know?”
 
“Oh, you mean Alzheimer's Disease?”
 
“Whatever, Joe. I’m not a doctor. Fuckin’ nerd.”
 
“Fuck, that must’ve been rough.”
 
“Yeah. He barely remembered who I was by the end. It sucked balls, dude. When he first got diagnosed, he said that was his biggest worry. Not to shit on my brothers an’ cousins an’ shit, but I was kinda his favorite, y’know? Everyone knew it. He told me he’d rather be dead before he didn’t recognize my face.”
 
“So, he thought about euthanasia, then?”
 
“The fuck did you just say?”
 
“What? You just said he didn’t wanna get to the point where he didn’t even recognize you. That means he must’ve thought about euthanasia, right?”
 
“You sick sonofabitch! I’m here spillin’ my heart out about my Grampa, and you’re saying he was some sort of fuckin’ pedophile sex tourist?”
 
“What are you talking about? Euthanasia is assisted suicide.”
 
“Damn straight, bro. If I was thinking about young Asians, I’d fuckin’ kill myself, too. No good can come of that, bro.”
 
“Oh, I think I see the problem here. Euthana – you know what, doesn’t matter. Let’s move on.”
 
“Yeah, let's.”
 
“Have you lost anyone else close to you?”
 
“Yeah, bro. My little niece.”
 
“Your niece? Fuck, man. I’m so sorry. How old was she?”
 
“Uhh, like eight or nine at the time.”
 
“Shit, man. How’d it happen, if you don’t mind me asking?”
 
“Family vacay in New York, bro. We were walkin’ through Manhattan an’ I’d smoked a few bowls. I was jonesing for some of that halal cart chicken, but the dude was packin’ up when we were like a couple blocks away. I just sprinted for it. Didn’t even realize I’d left her behind until I got back to the hotel. Got the call from the police like three hours later that someone had taken her to a nearby station. My brother’s wife was fuckin’ pissed, bro.”
 
“Wait, so she’s still alive?”
 
“Yeah, dude. Brother’s wife hasn’t spoken to me since, though. Oops.”    
 
“Hmm. So, I guess that brings me to my next question. How do you feel about some of the reactions to your interviews? There’s a lot of talk on social media questioning your intelligence and stuff. Does that affect you at all?”
 
“Not really. I mean, it’s happened all through my life. You get used to it.”
 
“Sure, but it must bother you when you see people saying things like you must be the product of seven generations of inbreeding, no?”
 
“Everyone’s entitled to their opinion, Joe.”
 
“You think that’s an opinion?”
 
“Sure. Just like gravity.”
 
“What do you mean by that?”
 
“Oh, I’m meant to believe that there’s some sort of magical force that’s stoppin’ me from floatin’ off into space? We’re on a rock hurtlin’ through an infinite void? Come on, dude.”
 
“You don’t believe in gravity? What do you think it is, then?”
 
“God.”
 
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ.”
 
“Yeah, him.”
 
“No, I – hmm. I’m thinking it was maybe a mistake to invite you here. Let’s just talk about something you seem to know. Let’s just talk about fighting, yeah?”
 
“Sure.”
 
“So, you’re 3-0 since signing with OWA. That’s no mean feat. Where’d you learn how to fight like that?”
 
“Learn? I didn’t learn anywhere, you fuckin’ nerd. Like, I didn’t go to a fuckin’ dojo or anythin’. I’m not like that twink Kulina. I’ve always just been able to hang, y’know? Like, you ever see that movie Good Will Hunting? When he’s saying how Beethoven just knew how to play piano an’ shit? Well, it’s like that for me, except with fightin’. I know I’m not the sharpest tool in the box or anythin’, but I know how to use my body. I do it with surfin’ all the time. You gotta know how to move on the water. It’s instinct. Think of the body like a system of levers. I don’t know how it works, exactly. I don’t need to. I just know that it does. Does that make sense?”
 
“Yeah, I think so. You know the weak points and take advantage.”
 
“Exactly, bro. Shitheads like Poet talk about doin’ fuckin’ research on your opponent like a complete and utter fuckin’ nerd. Weak shit an’ a waste of time. You don’t need to fuckin’ research your opponent, bro. Everyone’s got knees an’ ankles an’ wrists an’ elbows. Except maybe El Landerson. Dude was so small an’ stocky, it just all kinda merged into one, y’know? I just do what I need to do when I need to do it. There’s no fuckin’ plan.”
 
“Ok, but what about when people, like Poet for example, study tape to get the deeper cut, you know? What about the things he sees that perhaps you don’t think he does? Maybe he sees a character flaw or something. Like when he offered you his hand after your bout on Olympus. He knew you’d accept it, then he knocked the snot out of you. D'you know what I mean?”
 
“Broseph, I don’t know what I’m doing half the time, so how would he?”
 
“Jamie, pull that video from a few years ago up. Watch this. See how he’s stalking his opponent? Waiting, waiting, waiting, then boom! It’s fucking over. So, what I’m saying is you might not know what you’re doing, but he might. He’s fucking ruthless.”
 
“He knows that I don’t know?”
 
“Maybe.”
 
“Ok. Well, now I know that he knows that I don’t know.”
 
“This podcast goes out to 11 million people. He’ll know that you know that he knows that you don’t know.”
 
“Nah, he don’t know shit.”
 
“Look into his eyes, man. It’s scary. That motherfucker will take you into deep waters and fucking drown you. He’s an animal.”
 
“He’s just a dude who carries around a fuckin’ rhyme book. I dunno who he’s blowin’ to get a title shot after just one win, though. Guess that’s just the theme around Olympus. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a fuckin’ dream come true to be part of it, but is there anyone fuckin’ normal on this brand? I mean, look at my champions, dawg. We got two rich fucks in a cult, an’ two weirdos who run a cult out of an asylum. Very cool. Very normal. An’ don’t even get me started on that piece of shit I’m fightin’ next, bro.”
 
“No, let’s talk more about that. What do you make of Allesandro Devastation?”
 
“Bro, the dude openly brags about having a woman kidnapped and held at gunpoint. He says that shit out loud as if it makes him sound like a fuckin’ tough guy. Could never be me.”
 
“How much of that do you think is talk, though?”
 
“I dunno, dude. There’s fuckin’ nothin’ to him. Look at when he brags about shit like how rare an’ expensive his whiskey is. Only six barrels were ever made an’ it was brewed usin’ the finest beans or however the fuck you make that shit. Blah, blah, fuckin’ blah. Who gives a fuck, dude? Bulleit is legit, an’ it only costs thirty bucks. Toss a fifth of that down, chase it with some Vicodin, maybe a couple diet pills an’ a few bong rips an’ you got yourself a nice lil buzz goin’. An’ why’s he spendin’ so much on whiskey if he’s just gonna cram it full of fuckin’ ice? I mean, it’s basically just water at that point.”
 
“So, you think he’s all surface, no substance?”
 
“Totally, bro. He does what he does because he thinks that’s what a man’s supposed to do. He’s fuckin’ cosplayin’ masculinity. Look at the face he pulls when he’s smokin’ a cigar, for fuck’s sake. An’ I don’t blame him, dude. Those things taste like dry-aged ass. I’ll never understand smokin’ somethin’ that doesn’t get you fucked up. You don’t gotta do that shit to be a man, bro. I’ll drink a strawberry daiquiri because they’re fuckin’ delicious. I love a light summer salad, an’ sometimes I’ll get fries on the side as a lil treat. I’m a terrible driver an’ I’ve even indulged in some light pegging, an’ I don’t give a fuck what no one thinks, bro.”
 
“Wow. Ok, so forgive me for saying this, but that was quite intuitive for a person of your… err… intellectual capabilities.”
 
“I may not know books, Joe. But I can read motherfuckers like him all day long. People like Devione make their wealth an’ the things they owns their whole personality because they haven’t really got one. It’s all about things. Possessions. Even the American Dream belt is just another thing. An’ if he isn’t happy with the one thing he covets more than any other, he’ll never be happy. All I need is my board and some killer waves, man. I don’t need nothin’ else. I don’t need to wrestle. I wrestle because I want to. But he’s searchin’ for somethin’, an’ he doesn’t know what that is. I pity him, in a way. I can’t imagine what it must be like to be so lost. Maybe when he gets back to his solid gold mansion after I’ve beaten him, he’ll look at the empty space where his belt is usually displayed an’ no longer feel crushed by the weight on his shoulders. Maybe he’ll try to fill that space with somethin’ worthwhile. Maybe, but I doubt it.”
 
“That’s wild. You don’t think you’ll feel crushed by the pressure?”
 
“Nah, bro. You gotta realize that there is no real pressure in this business. We’re blessed to be doin’ this. Actual pressure is workin’ three jobs just to keep a roof over your family’s head. It’s deciding what health problems get priority before the money runs out. It’s takin’ two in the chest and still stormin’ the beach at Normandy.”
 
“Did your Grampa really do that?”
 
“No, he got discharged after shooting himself in the leg during boot camp, but somebody fuckin’ did.”

Mav., Alyssa Grace, 'Don' Hendrix, Remington Ivory Prescott, DT The Ruler and grandcaster have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Nobi
Re: OWA Promos
Post July 17th 2023, 1:16 am by Nobi
OWA Promos Nobine11


What a joyful and rough ride I've been riding on lately. Clash of Titans was arguably the best night of not just my career but also my life as I became the Immortal Heavyweight Champion. Despite the circumstances, I beat Remington Ivory Prescott fair and square. That was supposed to be the downfall of The Tres Comas Club.

But no. Not really. They use their power to stop me. 

They didn't count it because they said Mark Michaels is not part of the OWA. Those who are curious, I don't blame Mark Michaels at all. I want to use this opportunity to say thank you to Mark Michaels as much as I want to say thank you to my fellow The World's Finest fellas. They were and are helping me to fight the corrupt authorities. Now just remember, Remington Ivory Prescott, I may not be the World Champion, my win may not count, but the record will always be around for years to come that I beat you fair and square.

That being said, after saying it all, I still don't want to say thank you to The Tres Comas Club for putting me in this match for the Prestige Championship Match but the two men in this match are very talented in-ring performers. Elijah Hampton is someone who I have had a history with and Poet is definitely a good new addition to Olympus and OWA in general.

I'm obviously still not happy that my record of winning the Immortal Heavyweight Championship isn't being counted, but then I got a second thought after hearing what Elijah Hampton said on Olympus. Elijah Hampton is right. RIP might be the champion in name and holding the belt but that's for the records only. Elijah Hampton on another hand is doing great as the Prestige Champion. He beat the entire roster to win not just the Prestige Title but also Apex World Title and at that time, retaining the Immortal Heavyweight Title. Elijah Hampton is still what I and everybody else will say. Elijah, you're still the best pure in-ring performer in this promotion. You're one if not the best in the world if we're talking about countless different promotions out there, and therefore, you weren't and aren't exaggerating when you said The Prestige Title is the best price we're having right now. And tell me again how did you lose the Immortal Heavyweight Title? RIP didn't use his own skills, might, and powers of course. He had the backing of The Tres Comas Club. You, on the other hand, keep elevating the prestige…of The Prestige Championship. It's very fitting for the belt to be called the prestige Championship because you're truly bringing the prestige of the title, Elijah. That's what the real champions do and that's exactly what you're doing. I think with everything I've said, you know it I like you as the Prestige Champion. I like what you're doing with the title. I did win the number one contender match to challenge you for your Prestige Title but I exchanged it with Noah Reigner when I challenged RIP for the Immortal Heavyweight Title so I don't know why I'm being added to this match. If I'm being honest with you Elijah, I'd prefer both of us and some other to fight The Tree Comas Club rather than me challenging you right now but I suppose there's nothing wrong to get a chance to be the Prestige Champion once again isn't it? Please bear me when I said this, I have no problem with you and I have no reason to have one against you at all, Elijah. I just happened to be added for this match and I want to do everything I can to win this match by winning the Prestige Title. You described me as the turning point of your career but I believe without you beating me to win the Hybrid Title, you'll still make some noises like what you're doing right now. You just happened to beat me fair and square to win your first title but I believe without me, you're still going to be on the top, Elijah. You're the smooth operator after all. Now, you can call me your friend or you can call me your enemy, I think that works both ways but at least from my side of the point, you have my respect. I'm contradicting myself as I don't want to take the Prestige Title away from you but I don't want to show a slow and lazy performance either. If you happen to pin me again in this match or even make me tap-out, mark my words, you're going to pin or submit the best version of me. But if I happen to win the Prestige Title and with any chances by pinning you or making you tap-out, it's not for revenge. That's life, you win some and you lose some. It's great if you describe myself as the turning point of your career, I'm fine with it, and I hope if you become the reason why I'm a 2 times Prestige Champion, I hope you'll be fine with it too. Again, nothing personal, nothing a revenge on my mind, I just want to give you and Poet the best performance I can offer as best as possible. I want to show it to you and Poet, that my mind is on this match and my eyes are seeing the Prestige Championship Belt.

And now, I have to address and clarify something to Poet. First, off, thank you for congratulating me for beating RIP at Clash of Titans, that's very nice of you but of course I can't defend my title….because apparently The Tres Comas Club found a way to not count my winning, but that's what make you right about one thing, while I'm not happy about that, one of my World's Finest comrades, Carlos Rosso is having a chance to win the Immortal Heavyweight Title for The World's Finest and for the fans. That's fine by me, so I don't see any problem with what you said. Speaking of The Tres Comas Club, I'm actually confused and wondering why they haven't approached you yet to join them. You were already teaming up with Brandon Hendrix and Reginald Dampshaw III at Clash of Titans after all. Yes, I might be busy with The Tres Comas Club, but I still pay attention to other things and Elijah Hampton is right when he said you're one of the best newest guys in OWA. Well, you're not really that new when I learned you actually debuted almost 10 years ago but my point as well as Elijah's points still stands: you're just really that good. I actually wonder why you didn't do much back then but here's your chance now, here's your shot to make an impact not just for OWA, but for the wrestling world in general. I would also say your match against me and Elijah in this Triple Threat match for the Prestige Title would make up for your "lost time" even if you don't win the Prestige Title right now at all. You're sharing a ring with two former World Champions right now and that's actually an accomplishment to be in this match itself but if you happen to beat me and Elijah to win The Prestige Title, that's going to take you to another level, Poet. That's what you want. That's why you challenged Elijah Hampton to put his title in the first place isn't it? I do believe in you that you have a good chance to make a name for yourself through OWA. I could see one day you winning the OWA World Titles if you are able to stick around for sometime and maybe even being an OWA Hall of Famer from maybe 5 years from now on, and this is like I believe your 4th match in this promotion? Beating two former World Champions in me and Elijah Hampton to win the Prestige Title would be like killing two ducks with one bullet for you. But can you pull the trigger in this match, Poet? Can you use this chance and opportunity to win the Prestige Title in your first try? You beat Julio Carmelo Hayes in your last match and that's telling me how hungry and dangerous you are and that's why I think you have a bright future here but this is your first big match. It's impressive on one hand and I don't think you have a confidence problem with the way you challenged Elijah and talking about this match but that could also be in your way. When someone new gets too confident against a big name…two in your case, you might slip your chances and miss your trigger and end up wasting your bullets away. Maybe that's also why you didn't do much prior to OWA. You let your overconfidence take over yourself. Don't get me wrong, you have the in-ring skills, but you….are not the best when it comes to using strategies because your ego takes over your judgment. That's why you lost your debut match to Brody. You weren't able to kick out his pin despite all he did was just reserved your pin. That's why you, RD3, and Brandon weren't able to win at Clash of Titans, while you were focusing on Tatsuo Sakaguchi alone, you didn't see it coming that Brody and Ryo Sakazaki would come after you. While you were able to beat Julio Carmelo Hayes fair and square he still gave you a good fight. No disrespect to Julio but me and Elijah Hampton are on another level, so are you sure you can beat me and Elijah Hampton at the same to win the Prestige Title? I'm sure you'll say "yes" but let's see if you can do it. You wrote great poetry when you decided to write me and Elijah one by the way. That's very creative of you. You're an artist and what you need is the best place and form to be recognized. This is the right path by trying to win the Prestige Title, you just need to pull the trigger and don't miss your marks. The thing is, Elijah Hampton and I are walking targets. We're able to move to make sure to dodge your bullets and it will cause you to not win the top prize: that is The Prestige Title. 

Now after everything I've said, I want to make sure, I hate to beat both Elijah Hampton: who is the best champion right now in OWA and Poetry: one of the best new guys OWA has right now because I'm just a "last minute" addition but I'm getting this opportunity so I have to use it as best as I possibly can to become a two times Prestige Champion.

Mav., Alyssa Grace, 'Don' Hendrix, Remington Ivory Prescott, DT The Ruler and grandcaster have spoken. It’s such good shit!

grandcaster
Re: OWA Promos
Post July 17th 2023, 1:00 am by grandcaster

The shrine was surrounded by them. 
Squirming, crawling, wiggling. 
Congregating across the ground, forming an endless sea of white—


Symbols of greed. 
Guardians of nature. 
Harbingers of calamity. 
With eyes as red as scarlet, they continued to gather en masse at the shrine. 


Hissing, wiggling, biting. 
Across the shrine grounds, up and down the stone stairs. 
They continued to move endlessly until—


The shrine door opened. 
The snakes silenced themselves. 
It was as if they had encountered a mongoose. 
Or a frog.

The steps echoed. 
With each step, the sound grew more hollow.
And hollow. 
And hollow. 
An echo that drew eyes, whether they were here or not. 
All the way to the door of the shrine where the honored guest stood. 
That guest was—

第六天魔王


OLYMPUS PROMO #1


...Oh. 
Another visit? I’m actually surprised. 
Even the most devout follower isn’t this demanding.
Even someone like me, who stands above heaven and earth, needs time to properly manifest things. 
Wringing an entertainer until they’re dry is pretty selfish, you know. It sounds like you want to indulge in your own desires. 
Do you seriously see how pathetic you are? 
Though, just this once, I’ll forgive the transgression. The next time you request an audience with me, I won’t be so merciful. That half-hearted resolve will only result in you losing your life.

Anyway...tell me. What do you think is beauty? There’s many answers. Every person that exists has a different perception of what it is. For me...there ought to be many answers, but the one that stands out the most...is fighting. I’ve said it before: Fighting is an art. Much like painting, much like sculpting, much like acting. It is a medium of self-expression. Violence is a canvas and I enjoy the beauty it creates.
Click.
Click. 
Click.

The wooden sandals echo against the path. 
The snakes part like the sea. Into the forest.
They’re in awe. In fear. In reverence at the figure. 
An honored being. A vessel of calamity and of divinity. 

My—no, our—opponents also express themselves through violence. Is that their name, Seventh Ward? Ha. Ha. Ha. It’s rare to find people so honest about their brutality. I could even call it refreshing. I prefer the honest to the cheaters. What good is a fight if we can’t show our full strength?

...That’s why I find it a shame. Opponents who won’t cheat, who prefer to show their violent side from the get-go, love combat as much as I do...and they end up being a pair of mediocrities. I’m disappointed. For people who speak of dominance, the brand of violence they carry is dull. They have no way of recognizing the beauty that lies in combat. The same barbarity, over and over again...are they foolish enough to think that drab pieces are deserving of the attention of dragons, let the sore eyes of humans? It's just a constant of mass-produced sludge that leaves a bad taste in the mouth. Though, I suppose, that is why they enjoy it: It’s about as complex as it can get before it overwhelms their minds. 

A tragedy, I suppose.  

Click.
Click.
Click. 

The honored figure walks down the stone stairs. 
Each step leaves behind an echo. 
The sky is gray. 
The clouds are gathered together. 
A fog obscures everything but the stairs. 
Thunder rolls in the distance. 
It’s going to rain. 
It earns a wide grin.

You’re right. I am new. Compared to others in the roster, I am fresh meat and compared to the others in this match, I’m the “youngest” to exist. That being said, do you honestly think that I’m afraid of you two? If I was afraid of that shallow pit you call a grave, the toothpick you call a knife, and the grazes you call scars, then I wouldn’t enjoy fighting like I do now. I couldn’t call myself a warrior.

Every fight, no matter how easy it is, can result in death. Why the hell are you gloating about something anyone can do? Digging graves, being barbaric, things like that. Tasks such as those aren’t exclusive to a duo of mutts who can be convinced with money alone.

The Tres Comas Club has no bearing on your goals? Ha, are you serious? So then, you admit that you’re easier than a geisha in the red light district? Are you two just as loose? Maybe someone will pay good money for that. You said it yourself, as long as you get money, its fine, right?

Ah, actually, never mind on that. You’re pretty disgusting. The stench of your karma is revolting enough to make me vomit so maybe we should kill you instead. Actually, we WILL kill you. Battles are something decided before the fighting even starts and I refuse to have any half-hearted response or resolve. I won’t say that we’ll win, we’ll go out and win. 

I am the mountains and water. 
I am the earth and steel. 
I am the heavens and storms.
I am fire and war.
I am calamity given flesh. 
I am the Honored One. 

I don’t have a god complex. I am a god. 

To be specific, I am the dragon that will purge you. Even if you have slightly more respect for yourselves than that bastard lizard or the other pathetic existences in the Tres Comas Club, I don’t like you. You’re an obstacle in my way and like the Buddha himself, I’ll triumph over you. I have no desire to explain my honor—something too complex for your brains to understand—but...what better way to earn those "dust particles" than through beating the "supposed" best tag team? You may have seven in your name but luck isn’t on your side here. 

Though, even if you are the worst type of artist, I'll still enjoy this. There's nothing more enjoyable than purging people I don't like. If you want me to kill you, then sure. I'll kill you. I'll do nothing less than kill you. I'll ensure that you are nothing but incorporeal, swallowed up by the flames of the Great God.  

Grinning confidently, the person walks. 
The snakes retreat into the fog or they follow him down the stairs.

Also, you’re wrong. Dead wrong. 
You’re not void of emotions. 
None of you in this weak imitation of the Sixth Heaven is without them. 
They have manifested themselves in the current state of Olympus. Even now, yours and our depravity is piloted by worldly desires. It has manifested from love. 

You can try and kill me like you did Eon Blue but you will never succeed. 
You’re two humans encased in the void of heaven trying to slay dragons.
Trapped in that starry sea, you are ants encased in amber. 

The end? There is no end. Even if there was, you were never it. 
In a world of depravity, everything is infinite. No matter how many times you’ll try, you’ll never be able to kill me. Kill us.
That is the reality of Saṃsāra

The fog clears. 
The rain begins to fall. 
The long winding river in the background divides into eight branches. 
But even as the rain douses his hair and dampens his kimono, he does not flinch. 

...Ryo. 
You are a dragon. That is the characters engraved in your name, just like mine. That means that you too are a god. I won’t speak in your place. I’m not you after all but personally I wouldn’t take this if I was you. Here you are, being treated as if you are nothing. A whipping boy, as they would say. It seems that mostly everyone in Olympus thinks you’re garbage. Irrelevant. Something to be buried and never brought up again. 

A bolt of lightning crashes down to earth. 
In the wake of its illumination, the smile on his face feels much more sinister.
However, despite everything, he is still benevolent. As benevolent as a perceived god could be.

But you don’t believe that, do you? Of course you don’t! You’re still here, fueled by your worldly desires! You are strong, I know you are strong. Then, come on, come on! You can feel your anger burning inside of you, don’t you? Then reject every single word they say. Or better, take every single word they said and shove up their ass. 

A testament of tag teams is that they have faith in each other. So then, I’ll place my faith in you, Ryo and you can place your belief in me. Even if you aren’t a demon, you cannot perform anything less than killing. In a place as depraved as Olympus, it's the only way to survive and it’ll be the only way we can beat them. So, be a dragon and purge. The world's finest purge, I might add. 

They might have been the ones to make the grave but we’re the ones who will put the Seventh Ward in them.

Mav., Alyssa Grace, Darkane, 'Don' Hendrix, Remington Ivory Prescott and Lazarus Arjen have spoken. It’s such good shit!



Last edited by grandcaster on July 17th 2023, 10:56 pm; edited 1 time in total
Lazarus Arjen
Re: OWA Promos
Post July 16th 2023, 8:11 pm by Lazarus Arjen
OWA Promos 4EunSuZ


“The kingdom was built on a paper-thin foundation.”

“We exposed the fallacy of their reign. We exposed the unfounded claims of greatness and the empty promises of domination. We said that For the Minorities could never properly beat us. We said that For the Minorities had to take the path of thievery to beat us in the first place and could never replicate the success when it was just us and them - when they had to actually fight us; and we were right.”

“And now we sit on the thrones crafted out of the bones of the former champions lies, ready to embark on a reign of terror that will forever be remembered as the bloodiest, as the most violent reign in history. It started with Jacob Senn and - the late - Eon Blue when we left Eon bleeding out at our feet. I felt his soul leave his body in front of me, and I watched the horror in Senn’s eyes. All of that time brooding, all of that time plotting to get back into the fold of OWA, all of that time searching for the perfect partner - only to watch it all die in front of your eyes. You missed the one opportunity you had. You left us breathing, and now only one of you continue to breathe.”

“Jacob Senn’s big comeback has failed. Eon Blue has perished.”

“The name the Seventh Ward represents where we come from. It represents the city that took us in and molded us through the teachings of violence and brutality. Designing us to be as cut-throat as needed in order to survive - and survival is not a thing that the Seventh Ward promises to everyone. When the weak enter the ward, they vanish. The seventh takes more lives than it preserves. You have two options, endure or die. Endure life altering pain, anguish and torment - or succumb to the horrors that await. Darkane, Cassie, Victoria, Myself - we've bonded through that process. We’ve been systematically cut down, only to be rebuilt to be as hard as they come. You can set me on fire, you can attempt to tear Darkane’s arm off with a bear trap - and we endure. We were built for this; we’ll lose limbs, we’ll walk through hell and emerge from the other side victorious.”

“Is the former Grinning Demon built for the atrocities that await him in the Seventh Ward? Bluntly - no.  You can have a revolving door of partners, and it won’t help. The last time you stepped into the ring with us - you had Mark Michaels at your side and now you’ve downgraded. You’re now dragging Tatsuo Sakaguchi into this war with you; how is it going to feel to have the innocent blood of a fresh face on your hands? How is it going to feel when you realize that you’re the reason Tatsuo is left lifeless at our feet, while you’re forced to watch his demise? Just like Senn was forced to watch Eon’s. You were the weak link of your brief partnership with Mark Michaels, and the only thing you’ve changed since then was exorcize the demon that you wanted us to believe had a death grip on your soul. So where does that leave you, Ryo? That leaves you a mortal man, no more demonic - no more immortal than Eon Blue who’s blood pooled in the very ring that you’re going to meet us in - in just a few days. You’ve been a joke in OWA long before I showed up and you’ve done little to change that. Ridding yourself of the ‘Demon’ , you may think refocuses you and your career - but it just further proves what I said before. That you’re lost in the sea of uninspired, useless, talentless masses. No more do you have something to cling onto. No more do you have something to hide behind. Now you’re just a man who could bleed, a man who could feel pain, a man who could die and maybe that is your purpose, Ryo. To be a continued victim of our wrath. To be the whipping boy of Olympus until you get it through your thick skull that you do not have what it takes. Your sob stories and your heart felt oath to persevere through the pain have always fallen on deaf ears and will continue to do so. You need to make a decision, Ryo. To be a victim, or to take your life - and your career - in a new direction. The path you're on now - the one that leads you head on with the Seventh Ward only leads to misery, pain, and death. You’re at a fork in the road; time to choose wisely.”

“Someone who’s not so fortunate, though, is your partner - Tatsuo Sakaguchi. Tatsuo is being dragged into a war he knows nothing about, has no stock in, nor does he know the players. Tatsuo is fresh in OWA, yet to be exposed to the depravity, to the chaos, to the anarchy that the Seventh Ward is known for -- but that will soon change. But from the little that is known about you - one thing that struck me was your love for combat. I like that. I like that, a lot. See; myself and Darkane are the two most violent motherfuckers on this roster and we never back down from a fight. You want to prove yourself Tatsuo? You want people to take you seriously? Show them. Show…US what you're capable of! Bring the fucking fight, Tatsuo. Your partner for the evening? He’s been a bitch. We’ve all beaten Ryo within an inch of his life, why else do you think there’s a sudden shift in his personality? A free piece of advice would be; don’t follow the footsteps of your partner. But, if I can be honest? I don’t give a fuck what you do. Darkane and I, we’ve earned our stripes - we’ve cut our teeth - and we’ve earned the scars, burn marks, and wounds we have on our fucking body. We’ve earned the right to call ourselves the best tag team in this company, so know that it doesn’t matter what decision you make leading into this match -- you’re ending up in the grave with Ryo, who’s rapidly dug them for you both. Show us what you got, or be a fucking failure like Ryo. Show us that you’re built for war, or be dissected and torn apart like the rest of this roster. We don’t care if you believe you’ve transcended earth and heaven, because at the end of the day - our goal is to put you in the ground, and that is what we do.”

“We are the Omega of the Omega Wrestling Alliance. We are the fucking end.”

“We walked through every layer of hell, front to back, and kicked down the exit - leaving with the tag team championships. The same championships that were promised to never leave the waists of For the Minorities. If you truly want these, I suggest you come ready to kill - because any other intention will leave you clutching your throat, choking on the salty-life source that pumps through your veins. If you truly want these, then I suggest you come with a fucking army because Ryo has proven he’s not enough, and the verdict is still out on the Sakaguchi. But I can promise you both, if you come with any intentions that are less than murder, then you’re walking toward an open grave that’s been prepared for you.”

“There’s one thing that you need to understand; this division belongs to the Seventh Ward. In fact, this division IS now the Seventh Ward of the OWA, and all who enter will perish just as Eon Blue has. All who enter will meet their grim, bloody fates. The Seventh will claim more victims, that is a fucking promise. Only the strong, those void of emotion, and those who are depraved as we are - survive the Seventh.”

“And from where I stand, neither of you have those traits.”


----

New Orleans, Louisiana

The house in the Seventh Ward that has - somehow - come into the possession of Lazarus, Darkane, Cassie, Victoria, Maisie and OZIAS sat as it always did - on the end of a dilapidated street. Weeds are overgrown, spreading onto the cracked and weathered sidewalk. Old, rust bucket cars sit on either side of the street, almost guaranteed to either not start - or to exude a big dark cloud of exhaust if it were to. The homes, specifically the aforementioned, had seen better days. On the outside, paint was cracked and peeling off. The windows were covered by bars, or metal plates. The front swing out door was almost off its hinges, and the door itself had probably been kicked in several times. You had to force it closed from inside the house, keeping it secure with several locks.

Inside of the home, Victoria Poirier and Cassie sat in the ‘living room’. The couch was old, ripped and destroyed. There was a lack of almost any other furniture, just several boxes or milk crates that others sit on. Cassie had a cigarette pressed between her lips, Victoria held one between her index and middle fingers. Both girls sat in silence, the conversation they had came to its natural end - and now they waited.

Waited for what? Unsure, but definitely not what happened next.

The big, lumbering OZIAS exited a back bedroom and moved through the house into the living room where the girls sat. They both turned to look at him, noticing that his bag was slung over his shoulder.

“What’s with the bag?” Victoria asked before she took a deep drag from her cigarette. The smoke poured out of her pierced nose before she exhaled a cloud of it.

“I’ve been thinking. Lazarus and Darkane are a formidable team, Lazarus does not need me as a follower anymore. Lazarus and Darkane have each other; they have you two.” He said, tossing his bag by the front door. OZIAS moved to stand before the two women, the two former BEU heads - before the members of the Seventh Ward.

“So what is your plan?” Cassie said, arching an eyebrow.

“It needs to be rebuilt.” He said, ominously.

“It..?”

He reached out to take Victoria’s hand, twisting it to show the “BEU” lettering. “Lazarus and Darkane have given me the approval to rebuild what they started, in their honor. They cannot be here to keep it going, so I have offered. I would like your blessings, too.”

Victoria and Cassie turned their heads, their eyes finding each other. There was a moment of silence, during which OZIAS dropped Victoria’s hand. The two studied the look on each other's faces, staring into each other's eyes.

“You have our blessing.” Victoria said. “The BEU is in tatters after what we’ve all done to what remained. Keep it true to what Darkane and Lazarus made it to be, and we’ll all be happy.”

OZIAS only nodded his head. He knew he had a lot of work to do, so he wasted no more time. He turned, grabbed his back and exited the Seventh Ward homebase. It wasn’t a far trek to the Holy Cross School the BEU called home. It was now his to rebuild.

Victoria pushed her cigarette into the grave of dozens of other butts in the ashtray and stood. “It’s time to go. We should join Lazarus and Darkane.”

VaeVictisBD, Mav., Alyssa Grace, Darkane, Elijah Hampton, Rebecca Filth, 'Don' Hendrix and have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Darkane
Re: OWA Promos
Post July 16th 2023, 7:36 pm by Darkane
OWA Promos ITzc50fi_o


The euphoria of victory and especially victory with championships attached to it as the proverbial cherry on top is still sweet for someone who has weathered the storm of father time for the most part and with it has experienced many triumphs along the way during a lengthy career. I couldn't have done it without various assets at the ready; some of these assets have been vital to keep me upright and functional, but others come down to plain dumb luck in all honesty. I’d wager most champions of any sport needed a good break or two to fall their way. It’s the nature of the beast. Anybody telling you differently is a bold faced liar and chances are they won’t last very long on top of their egos that inflate them.

It’s why these OWA Tag Team Championships mean a little extra.

I had gone six long years. Six long fuckin’ years to FINALLY find somebody worth a shit to wreak havoc with and challenge for tag team gold. Through my time back in the trenches of Newark when I tried to formulate a decent tag team with that half baked deadbeat Stark. To SSW where I dug up the remnants of The Phantom Troupe with that ego maniacal bratz doll Aria Jaxon, which was based on a mutual ‘you scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours’ kind of deal more than general intrigue. And lastly the stables of the short-lived OWA Phantom Troupe and yes, the ever powerful Dynasty. You’d think at one point or another I would have been a shoe in for a Tag Team Championship run.

But It wasn’t in the cards.

Until The King of Rats showed up.

And I had to go to war with the son of a bitch to hit tag team pay dirt. 

I guess I just had to find somebody as crazy enough as me to put two and two together. I wasn’t always like this in the past. I preferred to tread water alone. I didn’t have it in me to trust anybody. I didn’t think it was possible, especially after all the back and forth turmoil Laz and I went through. Nobody had Laz and myself reconciling after he blew me up to high heavens in that warehouse on their bingo card. Furthermore I wiped my ass with Aizen’s heroic efforts to resurrect me as soon as we screwed Elijah Hampton over and gave Rich Ghostby the layup dub at Hardcore Havoc.

When that bond was forged, it was like a light bulb came on, not only that, there was a vision. It wasn’t just the culmination of my sister being kidnapped or Laz’s daughter being abducted by The Big Easy Undercity’s leftover goon squad that brought us together. It was the realization that we work much stronger together than we do as independent foes. We always have, dating back to our youth. There was just a lot of baggage when I left New Orleans all those years ago. There were necessary evils that we had to work through to form The Seventh Ward. It was never meant to be easy, but it had to be done. Whatever was pent up, had to be unleashed come hell or high water. Whatever unfinished business there was, had to be uncorked and dealt with accordingly.

So when the time came to mend we would be ready to push forward and leave the past behind. It took some ironing out, it took some elbow grease, not everything was perfect but we made it out okay.

And The OWA Tag Team Championships still maintain their shine because of it.

FTM got their flowers. They were the talk of the town in the tag team division for a while at least, they gave us a run for our money, and even took the food off our plates before we could even arm ourselves with knives and forks. They tried to bait us into a race war but we wouldn’t do it. They tried to belittle us and crush our confidence but it never wavered.

It only made us stronger.

When push came to shove DT and Raivo couldn’t handle The Seventh Ward and they went belly up as tag champs and rightfully so. Their tactics folded like a cheap tent and we were finally crowned kings of the tag team division after a rather arduous road to get there. There’s that old saying Rome wasn’t built in a day, well neither was The Seventh Ward but to the victors go the spoils. We return to Olympus bearing gold and needless to say it’s a lot more jam packed than we remembered.

I barely recognize half this fucking roster. 

Maybe it’s a good thing, if they don’t dip after six seconds of getting their feet wet. 

One thing that bears mentioning is what happened to Eon Blue was just business. Carving out his literal bleeding heart wasn’t an under the table funded task as much as it was a warning shot. We’re nobody’s hired gun, consider The Seventh Ward as ‘mutual beneficiaries’ if you want but The Tres Comas Club has no bearing on what The Seventh Ward can or will do to anybody. We saw it as an opportunity to reinforce our will on the Olympus roster. We saw it as an opportunity to nip Jacob Senn’s little resurrection tour in the bud and pull the rug right out from both his and Eon’s feet before it could even gain any traction. As for Eon? He’s a veggie now, and if Senn wants to exact revenge, he knows where to find us, but I have his most prized commodity on my side now. Maybe he can clear the air with Elijah Hampton but I doubt Hampton would be foolish enough to give Senn the time of day after what he went through with The Goetialololol King. Remember Senn, you made your bed and now you’re gonna fucking rot in it.

We had our time of leisure on the sidelines for a good minute; enjoying a bit of R&R while scowling from the nosebleeds at the Clash of the Titans. As champions we have to be constantly on the hunt, dotting our i’s and crossing our t’s. Since we want to stay on the prowl and stay in a position of leverage we have to embrace any and all semblance of competition, even stale bread crumbs like Ryo Sakazaki and his shiny new toy partner in crime. I’ve been in this game long enough to know that wriggly little eels like Ryo Sakazaki pop up at the most inopportune times. He's the type of dweeb that can’t find a date to the party so he’s automatically deduced to the punch bowl guard. He’s the kind of soul sucking charisma vacuum that would be better off tonguing the excess cheeto dust off his toy demogorgon he bought off a special clearance sale bonanza, than suiting up and routinely embarrassing himself against us time after fucking time.

I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve put Ryo Sakazaki in the mud. I’ve grown weary of his hollow threats and incessant bitching over the years that this time will be any different from the last.  

But we can’t rest on our laurels.

We can’t let our guard down or give our enemy even a shred of hope.

We can’t be picky about who we defend our championships against either. I can assassinate Ryo’s character until I’m blue in the face but it means nothing if we’re complacent. Ryo’s usually shaky confidence got a much needed shot in the arm at Clash of the Titans, but even a dead clock is right twice a day. Ryo’s hung around like a crusty dingleberry in the shadows of OWA for years yet it is always one step forward and five steps back. He doesn’t know the meaning of progression and The Seventh Ward has driven Ryo past his wit’s end before. He’s an easy target, he's an emotional short fuse and he’s extremely susceptible to scrutiny, right before he’s on the wrong end of a brutal fucking ass beating. He’ll often press play his greatest hits like how he’s continuously disrespected or how he’s toed the company line, or how he’s worked his ass off to end up with egg on his face. It’s been the same old song and dance blue collar blues bullshit with no actual rhyme or reason behind it for a long time now. If anything he’s trying to save face. He’s trying to justify and gloss over why he’s been pimped out as Olympus’ colostomy bag for as long as I’ve been in OWA.

You see the issue here don’t you, Tatsuo? 

Ryo is a disservice to you; he’s a wet blanket, he’s dead weight dragging you into this conundrum. And for what? To give The Seventh Ward one last college try? Because his half assed attempt with Mark Michaels was such a roaring success, wasn’t it? You must feel like a deer in the headlights, unsure of whether to shit or wind your wrist watch at what stands before you. It’s bad enough Ryo is your tag team partner, tack on the fact that you’re still fresh meat? You’re shoveling shit against the tide and The Seventh Ward are the fucking tidal waves. We won’t take our foot off the gas for a Johnny come lately blow in from Japan. We cut our teeth and we earned our stripes, as far as we’re concerned you’re just an outsider hedging his bets on the back of Ryo Sakazaki. That’s a death sentence. You’re walking right into the lion’s den, but I understand you believe yourself to be an honored one? Is that supposed to make you invincible? What is it with these wannabe SSW reproductions flying off the goddamn conveyor belt outta Japan’s fucking festering womb? They get a hard on from walking on hot coals and getting their nuts kicked the fuck in while maintaining a straight face. 

That is until they run into The Seventh Ward.

We won’t adhere to a charlatan who places himself on a lofty pedestal, especially an ‘honored one’ with an apparent god complex and not even a dust particle next to his fucking name. FTM did the same thing, and they were dismantled but at least they had the hardware. As for the two of you? You’ll fit nice and snug as we heave you both into a yawning pit of a fucking tomb.

That way, at least you’ll have each other when the maggots begin to feed.

VaeVictisBD, Mav., Alyssa Grace, Elijah Hampton, Rebecca Filth, 'Don' Hendrix, Remington Ivory Prescott and have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Mark Michaels
Re: OWA Promos
Post July 15th 2023, 2:58 pm by Mark Michaels
Olympus, Last Friday.

( the scene opens backstage at the Arena Parking lot. It’s here we find Mark Michaels, alongside his cousins Gyp, and Sy. The trio are visibly still feeling the effects of their encounter with the mysterious third owner of Olympus as they slowly walk ( or perhaps limp would be a better term) towards the waiting suv. )


Mark: I know tonight was rough, and I can’t blame you for not liking catching a beat down the way we did. But you two, Harman, and myself all agreed that if we’re getting back on Olympus, this was the best way to do so.

Gyp: Man cousin, don’t sweat this. you already know we always got your back. Would I there to be a less painful way to deal with Tres Comas Club, and those new owners? Sure, but whenever you need someone to have your back, you ain’t even gotta ask.


Sy: That’s 100. But I gotta ask what’s the play now, because this new dude is on another level. Guy went through us like we were that aluminum foil grandma used to get from the 99 cent store.

Mark: Bro all we gotta do is what we’ve done our whole lives, we work smarter and harder till we come out on top.

( suddenly a voice calls out from off screen. )

???: HEY! WAIT! HOLD ON!


( The voice belongs to Olympus chief backstage reporter, Hugh Jass, hurrying over as fast as his feet can carry him skews me. Jass stands before the Gypsy Bloodline, quickly smooths out his hair, straightens his tie, and raises a microphone to his lips. )

Hugh Jass: Ladies and Gentlemen, I’m Hugh Jass with this breaking news. From the offices of the owners of Olympus, a match has been proposed. Live from the Arthur Ashe Arena in Queens, New York, it will be Mark Michaels taking on Brandon Hendrix. If Michaels wins he will be reinstated to active competition, and Brandon Hendrix will be removed from the Tres Comas Club! Mark the world wants to know, do you accept the challenge?

( Gyp and Sy smile as they pat Mark on the back. They had expected things to go their way, but not quite this fast. )


Mark: So if I heard you right I gotta face off against Brandon Hendrix in a ladder match. If I win, I’m back on Olympus, and just in time to be apart of the biggest pay per view in professional wrestling. If I lose, I’m out, all the way out. I’m talking no more chances, no more opportunities, no more OWA for me. Hugh, to be back on Olympus, doing what I love, you best believe I’m willing to walk through hell barefoot to be reinstated. So he’ll yeah I accept.

Hugh Jass: There you have it folks, it’s on in two weeks, how will this affect not just the road to Final Destination, but the Olympus brand as a whole? Make sure you tune in and find out. Before you go Mark, is there anything you want to say?

Mark: Theres a hell of a lot actually, but Before I say anything else, as much I have missed being at the house with gyp, and Sy, and all the rest, As much love spending time with my family, there is something about being in front of the OWA fans, hearing them chanting, and cheering, I won’t lie, it’s addictive. It’s the biggest adrenaline rush, it’s a high like no other. I liked that little vacation, but being in the ring, that’s where I’m truly home. I missed this place, and now that I have a Chance, I want to be there for the fans, for OWA, For Olympus!

And because i know there are fans out there asking, I have to answer the question everyone is asking, why did you show up at Clash of the Titans and try to cost RIP the Immortal Championship? Why did you come back to Olympus and go after that jackass in the Eyes Wide Shut cosplay? You mean aside from the fact that since the moment I’ve been gone, the tres jerkoff club has been wheeling, and dealing, and screwing over everybody who isn’t bowing down, and begging these assholes for their table scraps? I think reason reason enough to me plenty pissed off. The only thing that allowed me to be at peace when I after that match against Carlos Rosso, was knowing I was gonna to keep one sorry ass son of bitch from holding all the power, and ruling Olympus the way a petty, over inflated ego having douche like RIP would. So for me to turn around and find three new owners, each with his head shoved up his own ass, running around calling the shots now, practically handing the belt to Remington after his ass had already been beaten. Then they wind up choosing Nobi to be the number 1 contender because they thought he was harmless, and couldn’t possibly be a threat to their golden boy. The Immortal Heavyweight championship deserves better, Olympus as a whole deserves better. shit like this ain’t gonna stand as long as I’m drawing breath. KD, Jaywalker, and especially that little shit walking around dressed in whatever they had left in the bargain bin at Spirit the day after Halloween, Daddy’s coming home to clear out the rats nest that moved in since I’ve been gone, come hell or high water!

But in order to do that I have to go through Brandon Hendrix, the hired gun, the chief lap dog. You know, a few months ago, I said before my match with Carlos Rosso that a free man choses, a slave obeys. I chose where I go, what I do, when I do it. Always have, always will. The only thing Hendrix gets to choose is which knee he gets on when he kisses RIP’s ass! I live every moment of my life on my terms, not the guy who signs the check. Brandon can’t stand that fact. He also sure as hell can’t stand the fact that he’s never pinned my shoulders to the mat, and he’s sure as hell never made me quit, which must be the reason we’re having a ladder match, because there’s no way in hell the son of a bitch ever could!

Now don’t get me wrong. That prick paisan is someone who regardless of how I feel about him as a man, is about as determined, and ruthless as they come. He’ll kick you in the balls and step on your neck just as soon as look at you. More than that it seems me and Hendrix are destined to fight forever. We’ve practically been at each others throats since the moment he showed up on this brand. the two of us have been locking horns, coming to blows, and beating the hell out of each other since the day we met. the dislike, scratch that, the absolute disgust towards one another gotten more and more intense. So Now me and him are set to clash a match with no rules, so you can expect no mercy. Not when neither of us will back down, not when both of us have too much to lose. By the time this one is over don’t be surprised if that ring looks more like a demilitarized zone. Both of us are willing to climb to highest heights to claim victory, but only one of us has proven that whenever he falls, he gets back up, dusts himself off, and tells Brandon Hendrix that he’s still a little cunt.
That mozzarell motherfucker can beat me half to death, I guarantee that if need be I will drag myself with one arm up that ladder. As long as my heart is beating I will not back down, I will not give up, and I will not surrender.

Now I’m sure all of Brandon’s underlings are all telling him that All he has to do is beat me in a foot race up a ladder, make it to that top rung, and just like that I’m gone forever, and he goes back to getting pats on the head and belly rubs from Prescott, and all the others he’s sold his soul to. Son, I am telling you that you will damn near have to kill me for that bullshit to happen. I know damn well, he wants nothing more than to say he beat me, and tell everybody who’ll listen to him flap his gums that he’s the reason I have to sit on the couch watching Final Destination at home. He’d like being able to say he put the final nail in the coffin of Mark Michaels career. And why might he have such a hard on for me? Because RIP dressed him down in front of the whole world, and he ran off looking like a scolded dog who got hit on the nose with a rolled up newspaper. Hendrix is a man who wants nothing more than to end my career so he can spend the rest of his continuing to suckle at the teat of Remington Prescott, and the three puppet masters pulling his strings nowadays. Considering everything I’ve been through to get as far as I have, considering everything that I had to give up in order to make sure shit like this wouldn’t go down on Olympus anymore, and considering how better men than Brandon Hendrix, from Graham Baker to Jacob Senn, have tried and failed to end Mark Michaels, I sure as hell ain’t gonna give some red shirt lackey who traded his balls for a couple of Pennies, the privilege to stick a feather in his cap and go down as the man who put an end to Mark Michaels in OWA!


Let me say right now that if you thought I was tough to put down before, wait till I have to fight you to get back the thing I’ve dedicated my life to. If you thought I took on my opponents with piss and vinegar before, just wait to see how hard I’m coming when I have just one opportunity to revive a dream I’ve had since I was a kid watching this stuff on Saturday mornings. If you thought the ass whipping I handed you before were the biggest you’ve ever gotten in your life, wait till that bell rings on Olympus. The Cosmic Caravan is back up and running, and it’s about to go straight through you, Kevin Devastation, Jaywalker, RD3, and all the rest till I get my hands on Remmington Ivory Prescott. Brandon, Friday night, we may be in Queens, but I guarantee that your ass is gonna HAIL TO THE KING BABY!

Hugh Jass: Well I, and I’m sure all of the OWA fans out there, wish you the Best of luck. Will it be a return of the king to Friday nights? We’ll find out on Olympus.


( with that the scene fades out.)

Alyssa Grace, 'Don' Hendrix, Remington Ivory Prescott and DT The Ruler have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Poet
Re: OWA Promos
Post July 15th 2023, 8:51 am by Poet
From the bar of Poet


Poet stood, facing the camera, with a smile on his face.  Unlike last week, where you felt the smile was forced to cover up his true feelings about the outcome of the six man tag match, this week the smile was genuine.  He stood in front of an oak bench top, with an extensive range of whiskeys, bourbons and port on the shelves behind him.  Looking closely, it was easy to see that most of these bottles weren’t of the cheap variety.  Many were at different stages of being finished, an indication that Poet himself wasn’t averse to a glass or two of the amber liquid when the mood would strike.

On the bar in front of him sat three bottles of whiskey.  The labels were turned towards where Poet stood, which meant that those watching couldn’t tell what they were.  The leather bound notebook sat next to the last bottle, while a glass of whiskey sat just in front of him.

“Well, the inevitable occurred.  After testing out the opposition and relying upon others to get the job done, I got the opportunity to prove a point to everyone here in OWA… and prove it I did.  I might have had to share a ring with a gangster who is nothing better than the hobos that hang around outside the local strip clubs, but if that’s what I had to do, then so be it.  Julius Carmelo Rose wasn’t on my level – the fans knew it, the commentators knew it and I got the feeling that everyone backstage knew it too.  It only took 5 minutes or so for the rose to wilt and die, and when it did, the match was over quickly.  The first win is in the bag and it’s onwards and upwards from here, which coincidentally, has resulted in me receiving a shot at the Prestige Championship.”

Poet picks up the glass of whiskey and takes a small sip, savouring the taste, before placing it back down on his desk.

“There have been murmurings backstage, even from Elijah Hampton himself, that I don’t deserve this shot.  That I’ve been here for all of 5 minutes and, outside of a win last week, I haven’t done much of note to get here.  And this is the perfect response.  This is exactly what I’m after.  With a flick of his wrist, ‘The Smooth Operator’…. Wait, wait.  Just give me a second here.”

Poet reaches over and takes the notebook off the bar.  He opens it and goes through a few pages before finding the one he is after.

“I have to share this with everyone.  In doing some research for this match – and it should come as no surprise to people here that someone of my intellect might do this – I found that our resident Prestige Champ has more nicknames than Brody has weed dealers.  Have a listen to some of these.  ‘The Cat’s Pajamas’.  ‘The Maker of Mischief’.  ‘Hunky Hampton’.  How old is this bloke?  7?  These nicknames are absolutely hilarious.  It sounds as though he is making up names for himself so he can play wrestle with his old man on their bed.  You can see it now, Elijah walking in with his dressing gown on flexing his muscles so he can wrestle his Dad.  It’s heart warming.  And what about this one… ‘Hardcore Hampton’.  Is he an aspiring porn star now?  What will he be staring in next?  ‘Elijah gets bent over in the Hamptons?’  In fact, that could be a new career move for him once he loses this title.  And look, I’m sorry to keep going on about this, but his nicknames drip with irony.  On one hand, he wants to call himself handsome, hunky, hardcore… then wants to put humble into the mix.  He either has no idea what humble means and just chose another word that started with the letter ‘h’, or does know what it means and is dumb enough to put it in there anyway.  Either way, once this match is finished, you can add another nickname to the list – ‘Has-been Hampton’, because I’ll be taking that title off you and there isn’t a god damn thing you can do about it.”

“But, let’s not forget the other element to this match.  Nobi.  Firstly, my congratulations on your win at Clash a few weeks back.  It seems as though it has been quite a long time in coming and every man and his dog has been falling over themselves to congratulate you for it.  So, I wanted to add myself to that list, but with a little caveat on top.  Your celebration with this title will be short lived.  You’ve been parading it around backstage like it’s your baby and, rightly, you’ve been on cloud nine since you won it.  That’s where I come in.  It’s time to pull you in from the clouds, Nobi.  It’s time to bring you right back down to Earth where you belong.  You might have that title around your waist, but there is no better time for a reality check than now.  Nobi, you may not be my focus – after all, your title is not on the line – but you’d do best to stay out of my way.  No matter what happens in this match, I’ll be coming after you next.  I don’t care if what you’ve got lined up in the future, because at some point, I’ll be taking that title off you too.”

Poet once again reaches down and takes hold of the whiskey glass.  He takes a sip and studies it for just a moment.  Placing the glass back down, Poet turns his attention to the three bottles in front of him. 

“As you may know, I like to find different ways to get my point across.  I’m not always convinced that the intelligence level in this company is of an acceptable level, so some visuals might help people understand exactly what I’m trying to say.  So, let’s compare the competitors in this triple threat match to some of the different whiskeys I have in my collection.  Well, two of these I added just a few hours ago, but I digress.  Let’s look at the first bottle.”

Poet turns the first bottle around to reveal a bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue Label.

“Now, Elijah, this whiskey right here is just like you.  In fact, I can’t believe how many similarities there are to you, both as a wrestler and as a person.  This whiskey has a premium price tag and comes in some luxurious packaging.  But, when you dig a little deeper, you see that it is nothing more than an overrated product.  Just like you.  I mean, this whiskey is popular and readily available anywhere.  It’s not one of a kind, it’s not something that separates itself from he pack, it is just… there.  You, my friend, are masquerading as a quality champion, just like this whiskey is masquerading as a high end drink because of the price tag.  You are just the same. You prance around the ring in your high end gear, hitting a big move here or there, but there is zero substance behind it.  You’re just like all the others.  Boring, average and…. Meh.  So meh.”

Poet chuckles to himself as he turns around the second bottle, revealing the Cutty Sark Blended Scotch Whiskey.

“For you Nobi, I have this whiskey right here.  This one reminds me of you.  It is regarded as a smooth and easy to drink whiskey that is approachable for anyone, and something the average person on the street can enjoy without too much of an issue.  That is you in a nutshell.  You’re likable, you get along with most people and the fans don’t necessarily shrug their shoulders when you come out.  But that’s all you are, just like this whiskey.  There is no depth, no stand out flavour and no complexity to this drink.  While someone might enjoy a glass of this, they aren’t rushing back to have another one.  Their reaction is often ‘yeah, that’s not bad… but what else do you have?’  And you, Nobi, are just that type of wrestler.  Right now everyone is patting you on the back, telling you how wonderful you are for your achievements… yet five seconds later they’ve moved on, already looking for the next person to drag this company forward who has more flare, more charisma and more ability than yourself.”

With that, Poet moves on the final bottle of the lineup, turning it around to reveal a label which reads ‘Yamazaki 18’.

“And this, ladies and gentlemen, is the cream of the crop.  The Yamazaki 18 year old, all the way from Japan.  This is the whiskey that everyone wants to have, but can’t afford.  It stands head and shoulders above the rest of the competition, which is just what I’m already doing here in OWA.  There is tremendous depth and complexity to the flavour, it oozes elegance and is enjoyed only by those who can afford it.  That is who I am.  Like this whiskey, which can blend a variety of flavours, I’ve already matched it with everyone put in front of me, no matter what the style.  I can blend mat wrestling, technical ability and brawling with ease on any given night.  The powers at be have the eye and the nose for exceptional quality when they see it… and they see it right here.  And these fans will see it when I walk out of Olympus as the new Prestige Champion.”

Poet finishes off the glass of whiskey and then picks up his notebook.

“Now, what would an interview be without a little poetry?  Instead of focusing on Elijah and Nobi, I’ve decided to write a little poem about these three whiskies in front of me.  I hope you enjoy it…”
 
In the realm of golden hues, three whiskies reside,
Yamazaki, Cutty Sark, and Blue Label, side by side.
Let's embark on a poetic journey, let the tasting begin,
To unravel the secrets, to find the whiskey within.
 
Yamazaki, like a gentle breeze on a moonlit night,
Its flavors dance gracefully, a symphony of delight.
From Japan's sacred land, a masterpiece it reveals,
With depth and complexity, each sip truly appeals.
 
Cutty Sark, a familiar face in the whiskey realm,
Its simplicity embraced, its taste, a calming helm.
A blend of malt and grain, it offers a gentle embrace,
But when compared to Yamazaki, it falls in its trace.
 
Johnnie Walker Blue Label, a name known to many,
With prestige and allure, its reputation does carry.
Yet, Yamazaki stands tall, a rival of utmost grace,
Its craftsmanship and heritage, a whiskey to embrace.
 
Yamazaki's age, a mark of wisdom and time,
Its eighteen years bestow flavors that truly chime.
Fruit and spice intertwine, with whispers of oak,
A symphony of sensations, a journey bespoke.
 
Cutty Sark, though easy to drink, may not excite,
Its straightforward nature, a path less bright.
Yamazaki's complexity, a tapestry unfurled,
Leaves a lasting impression, captivating the world.
 
Johnnie Walker Blue Label, a symbol of luxury and might,
Yet Yamazaki's character shines, a radiant light.
From the Land of the Rising Sun, its artistry so rare,
A whiskey to savor, an experience beyond compare.
 
In the realm of whiskies, Yamazaki claims its throne,
A testament to artistry, a whiskey to call your own.
Cutty Sark and Blue Label, worthy in their own right,
But Yamazaki's splendour outshines, like a star in the night.
 
Poet, smiling, then closes the notebook and begins to pour himself another drink… from the bottle of Yamazaki, of course…

VaeVictisBD, Alyssa Grace, 'Don' Hendrix, Remington Ivory Prescott and DT The Ruler have spoken. It’s such good shit!



Last edited by Poet on July 16th 2023, 4:37 am; edited 1 time in total
Bobby Wheeler
Re: OWA Promos
Post July 14th 2023, 11:55 pm by Bobby Wheeler
HOW ABOUT YOU SHUT YOUR FUCKING SLUT WHORE MOUTH JEFFREY THIS IS ABOUT ME AND MY FATHER I MUST AVENGE THE GROOMING

Aria Jaxon, J.D. Damon, Alyssa Grace, 'Don' Hendrix and Tyler Kulina have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Jeff X
Re: OWA Promos
Post July 14th 2023, 11:52 pm by Jeff X
When will it end?


When will the facade of Wolvesden finally die? With all due respect to Kenny Drake and the group he started years and years ago, all that remains today is a shell of former glory.  Nate Cage and JD Damon are what you have to offer us in the year 2023?  Come on man.  You can do better than this.  Nate Cage hasn't been a credible threat since I put him down at the first Final Destination and I've put JD in his place more times than I can count by now.  And yet still I sit here having to do this same old bullshit again.  And to complete the trifecta of people who haven't been relevant since 2019, they even have me teaming with CM Nas.  No disrespect to him, but this isn't the same place that he left all those years ago.  Things have changed.  The days of his face being plastered on every poster and main eventing every show over more deserving individuals have long since passed.  OWA has grown without him.He'll, its flat out PROSPERED without him.  I'm certain he'd thought we'd flounder.  That OWA would go belly up without the 'legend' that is CM Nas.  But it's been quite the opposite.   Because as he stepped away, I stepped the fuck up.  This place has belonged to me for years now.  When OWA needed someone to reach out and grab that mantle, I didn't hesitate.  Like it or not, I have dominated this place.  Whether you love me or hate me, there are very, very few people who have ever reached the heights that I have here.  In fact, Chris is the lone person that is able to stand up next to me and be considered a legitimate equal.  Face it Nas, we reached heights that even you could never have imagined.  We fought, we bled, we fucking DIED for this place.  And in the process, we turned it into the most successful wrestling promotion on the planet.  Us.  Me, Chris, the Frontline…WE did that.  Not you.  Not your ex wife.  Not Senn, not Oasis, not Aria, not ANYONE that came over from EAW.  It was us.  OWAs homegrown stars.  That have always put this company above EVERYTHING.  We did that.


But it wasn't supposed to be just us….was it, Cage?


You were supposed to be right there with us.  The three men that would take OWA into the future.  But that didn't happen did it?  All these years have gone by and you're still in the same spot you were back then.  You haven't advanced at all.  Hell,  if anything you've actually managed to drop down the card.  At least at one point in time, you were cowardly and chaotic enough to at least be a cause for concern.  But now?  Now you're not much more than fodder.  Just one half of a glorified nostalgia act for anyone who might still care that Wolvesden used to be cool.  Seriously, what have you done since betraying Kenny, Nate?  All these years have gone by and your greatest accomplishment is STILL that Tag title run with Kenny that looks pathetic in comparison to what Chris and I did with those same belts.  It's wild to think about looking back.  You thought Kenny was your deadweight.  That he was the one holding you down from achieving your own glory and greatness.  But you were wrong.  He was the one holding you up.  He was the one making you look better than you ever were.  He was the one GIFTING you credibility.  But eventually the charity ended.  Kenny moved on from you bullshit and solidified his own legendary status amongst all the greats to have done it in this industry.  And you fell by the wayside, relegated to doing ridiculous shit like the Blacklist while Kenny thrived.  Face it, you were never Kenny's backup.  He was yours. Making you appear to be something you're very clearly not…good at this. 


But if there's anyone who knows about all about that, it's your own teammate.  JD Damon has made a career out of riding the coattails of people more successful than him.   It was Kenny for years…then it was me.  Face it, JD…whether you like to admit it or not, I threw you a fucking lifeline.  You had nowhere to go once Wolvesden collapsed.  You were lost. About to find your way out of the company for the 50th fucking time.  But I gave you a chance.  I let you in the Frontline and gave you a renewed sense of purpose.  With Mike, Theo, and me at your side, we covered up your weaknesses…and we made you bigger than you ever were before.  Or did you forget that before us you were NOTHING.  No title reigns in OWA to speak of until you started using our names to your benefit to make you a viable piece of the midcard.  You improved under us.  You became someone under us.  But don't get it twisted…as great as you were in that Spartans Title scene, you were never capable of going any higher.  Not for lack of trying.  You certainly ATTEMPTED to step up to the plate and reach the status that every other Frontline member has.  Hell, you even tried to do it at my expense.  Keyword being 'tried'..  You thought you were ready.  You thought that it was your time to hold that world championship and you thought you could beat me to do it.  But you couldn't.  As much as I valued your friendship, it didn't take very much effort on my part to put you in check and send you back to your proper place on the card.  But you couldn't handle that either.  It ate at you for a full year until you turned your back on the Frontline…on the very people who finally allowed you to make a name for yourself as more than just Kenny Drakes bitch.  Bur like most things you do…that didn't work out either.  I snuffed you out once again at the last Final Destination…you know…the last time you tried to make a shitty reboot of Wolvesden. 


Bit I guess some people never learn because here you boys are again…still trying to cling onto past glory that's never going to come again.  Face it boys, Wolvesden will never be what it was.  The business has grown.  The talent level has risen.  For as good as Wolvesden was considered in 2018, these days it's barely more than a footnote.   Groups like the Dynasty, Golden Dawn,  and obviously the Frontline have far surpassed anything you boys ever did together.  At the height of Wolvesdens power, they've never come close to what the Frontline have accomplished.   Not even just for this company but for the world as a whole.  I've tackled head on and destroyed forces far more powerful and terrifying than anything Wolvesden has EVER done together.  Face it, the most impressive thing your group has ever accomplished was essentially just kidnapping Tarah Nova.   And while that my have been compelling at one point in time, it's tame in comparison to what we've done.  What I'VE done.  I've had the weight of the fucking world resting on my shoulders on more than one occasion and every single time I've lifted it up.  Whenever shit really hit the fan…whenever everything was on the line…it was me that rose to my feet and did something about it.  When all hope seemed lost, not just for the Frontline but for everyone…it was me that rose to the challenge, risked it all, GAVE it all, and made sure that this planet keeps spinning around.


You can call me egotistical and a spotlight hog all you want…hell, everyone else has. .but it doesn't change the fact that I have ALWAYS been there to right the ship.  To eliminate the threat no matter what the cost.  And I'm not the only one that had noticed.


Nas has too, haven't you, Nas?  It's why you came to me in the first place.  Because even someone as entitled and self centered as you knows that this place is mine now.  That this whole INDUSTRY is mine now.  And not because it was handed to me…because I fucking earned it.  Because I've overcome shit that you could never understand.  Hell, I've overcome shit that even I don't quite understand.  I have established the gold fucking standard for what it means to be at the forefront of the biggest wrestling promotion on the planet.  MY blood, MY sweat, MY tears, MY pain made this place what it was.  OWA may have started as a fucking middle finger to EAW, but I made it something more.  I gave it it's own identity.  I became everything that you thought you would be.  The fan favorite, that champion, the beloved defender of OWA. All your dreams…all your goals…I accomplished them when you couldn't.  And I did it without even intending to.  


And there's a reason for that.  You want t to know why it was me and not you, Nas?  Because I didn't do all this shit for myself. I did it for my family…for my brothers…I did it for the Frontline.


And that's something you never understood.  You wanted to be the face of the company for your own benefit.  For your own glory.  And everyone saw right through it.  You never had a chance to live out the life I'm living now because you're a fucking selfish prick. 


Or at least you were.  I can at least admit that you were man enough to come to me first to plead your case…to tell me you've changed.  I'm not quite sold but maybe you're right.  After all, I've learned that second chances sometimes should be handed out.  I watched Chris go from someone I wanted to kill to my brother in every sense of the word.  If Chris can change…then maybe you can too.  I'm  not quite convinced,  but Chris has at least shown me that I should give people the benefit of the doubt…including you.


So you have my support…at least for this week.  I will have your back, to the bitter end until we put these Wolvesden background dancers down.  But I'm warning you…if you try any bullshit like you've been prone to in the past…if you think you can take that spot you’ve always wanted by knocking me off of it…the. You will learn a cold, hard lesson that the entire roster has learned the hard way since you've been away….that this…this company, this brand, this entire fucking INDUSTRY….it's mine.  It belongs to ME.  And there's not a fucking person that's been capable of changing that, regardless of who holds that fucking belt. 


And if you grow ballsy and want to test that indisputable fact…then I will send you right back out of this company before you even collect your first paycheck. 


Because OWA isn't yours anymore.  It's certainly not Wolvesden's.  Hell, it's not even Oasis'.


It's mine.


And as I've proved time and time again…I'll fucking die before I give it up.


So I hope you can accept your new role in the locker room. One you haven't faced in a while…being a role player. Until you earn your place on MY Kingdom, that's all you are.  Just like JD and Cage.


But if you can accept that…if you can fall in line and work your way to where you want to be the hard way…the RIGHT way.  Then you have a place here…and you will DAMN sure be successful here…at least this week…I'll make sure of that.


Because whether you're cool with falling in line or not.. it doesn't matter.  JD and Cage together are not capable of stopping me.  


I have proved that over and over again.


This weekend will be just another day at the office for me.  Just another day shutting down JD Damon and Nate Cage like I always do.


But for you…this can be the start of a new chapter, Nas….or it can be the end of your story altogether.


The choice is yours.

Alyssa Grace, Rebecca Filth, 'Don' Hendrix, Remington Ivory Prescott, DT The Ruler, Lazarus Arjen and Tyler Kulina have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Bobby Wheeler
Re: OWA Promos
Post July 14th 2023, 11:50 pm by Bobby Wheeler
Nate Cage


This Fella's Middle Name is Keith!


Nasir nasir what do we do I missed you so much remember me remember meDO YOU FUCKING REMEMBER ME?!

REMEMBER HOW YOU TOLD ME I WAS THE FUTURE? REMEMBER HOW YOU SAID ALL OF THIS WOULD BE MINE ONE DAY?! YOU LIED TO ME, NASIR. YOU LIED AFTER GROOMING ME TO BE THE NEXT GUY. YOU AWARDED YOURSELF A FUCKING WORLD TITLE AND CALLED YOURSELF THE MAN BECAUSE YOUR EGO COULDN’T HANDLE THE FACT THAT YOU WERE NOT THAT DUDE. THE FUCKING BLACKLIST?! A JOKE. A VANITY PROJECT. A PLATFORM FOR THE GREAT NASIR KEITH MOORE TO CUT WORKED SHOOT PROMOS AND ACT LIKE HE’S SOME SORT OF GENIUS BECAUSE HE’S DOING SHIT THAT WAS POPULAR TEN YEARS AGO.

I’m sorry i don’t know what came over me there. You you you you you you tried so hard so hard to be that man to be that guy but you’re a fucking piece of shit a cunt a speck of scum sucking fucking suck my fucking dick I am going to kill you. I am GOING to kill you. I don’t give a fuck about Jeff. Jeff has always been here, he will always be here, I’m still going to be fighting him when this place is nothing but rubble. This is my chance to eradicate you once and for all, give you the send-off you deserve, Nasir. You think you can walk back in here like nothing happened? Like you didn’t try to steal this place from its owners? Like you haven’t made everything about you and not given others a chance? 

“Oh, it isn’t his time yet, give it a couple of years.”


SUCK MY DICK YOU PIECE OF SHIT! OH YOUR BOYS GET SPECIAL TREATMENT, DON’T THEY? YOUR BULLS AND YOUR GARETHS GET LOOKED AFTER, BUT WHAT ABOUT ME?! YOU KEPT TELLING ME I WAS YOUR FAVOURITE, THAT I WAS GOING TO BE A BIG DEAL AND IT NEVER HAPPENED. I BLAME YOU FOR ALL OF IT. I BLAME YOU FOR MY LACK OF SUCCESS. YOU’RE THE REASON I’M NOT OUTLAW CHAMPION, YOU’RE THE REASON I NEVER BECAME A WORLD CHAMPION. YOU ARE THE SOURCE OF ALL MY MISERY AND I AM GOING TO MAKE YOU SUFFER FOR IT. YOU SHOULD HAVE NEVER FUCKING COME BACK. YOU SHOULD HAVE STAYED WHEREVER THE FUCK YOU WERE AND COLLECTED ROYALTY CHECKS. YOUR PRESENCE HERE IS SO TAINTED, SO TOXIC THAT THE OMEGA HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP WAS RETIRED, JUST TO ERASE YOU AND YOUR NEPO BABIES FROM THE OLYMPUS WORLD CHAMPION LINEAGE. YOU TURN EVERYTHING YOU TOUCH INTO ASH, YOU MAKE EVERYTHING WORSE JUST BY VIRTUE OF EXISTING.

I HATE YOU, I FUCKING HATE YOU. I HATE THAT YOU HAVE BEEN ALLOWED BACK. I HATE THAT AFTER ALL THE BULLSHIT, ALL THE EGOMANIACAL SCHEMES AND SHITHEAD BEHAVIOUR, ALL HAS BEEN FORGIVEN. WELL, I DON’T FORGIVE YOU, I WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU. I WILL WRING YOUR NECK UNTIL YOUR SKULL FUCKING EXPLODES.

This is going to be a lot of fun a lot of fun Jeff I’m sorry that you have to associate with this scumbag you deserve better than that come and join me we can be best friends like the old days

Alyssa Grace and Tyler Kulina have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Mav.
Re: OWA Promos
Post July 14th 2023, 11:47 pm by Mav.
❝ FUTURE'S END. ❞
KINGDOM #001  \\  vs ARTHUR WAKEFIELD JR.

The feed slowly came into view, bringing us to the Santa Monica home of Jason Long as he’s seen rebandaging up his head with a clean bandage. It was a common procedure to go through each and every single day ever since he found himself back alive again. He sighed, finally wrapping the end of the bandage around, and finding his focus in the mirror ahead of him.

He finally achieved it.

For once, he finally achieved what it meant to actually be a champion here in this god forsaken company, even if it meant by any means necessary. I’m not mad at the concept that he pulled out just to make sure of it, it helped him get past the finishing line. I’m not mad because I know it wasn’t me at one hundred percent. Any other day before all of this happened, I would’ve seen that man in tears right now and wishing that it weren’t him that had to suffer with failure once again. But, he did it and I can’t create a problem over it.

It did, however, make me begin the question that always eludes me: what was next for me? That was a really good question, thought that maybe I’d ride into this match with Arthur thinking too overtly about the question but then I didn’t really need to, in all honesty. The Tribunal has helped me solve that question and more. I was never the kind to really serve by the word of a leader but they ... they were convincing. Jason paused for a moment, staring at their reflection and shaking their head from side to side. I had to accept because what they promised was something that I needed more than anything and since I accepted the offer, I’ve begun to see things in a new light – a different standard than ever before. I was going into this week with no hope, no sight into the future, not sure of what might come next, but then they found me, told me everything, and now everything’s in a new light and I can see clearly, I know what I want more than anything.

Was it a new lease on life that I might’ve found in The Tribunal? I have no idea. It might be and I can’t simply complain about that. These are the kind of things that make me become more motivated than ever before to do what I love the most. To be the hero of the story.

A half-smile slowly grew along his lips as he continued to stare toward his reflection, his own eyes beginning to see the Jason of before, unbandaged and unscathed from what had happened to him. His delusions were getting the better of him by the days that he lives through. A few quick blinks brought his vision back to normal, how we saw him as he was. A deep sigh as he slowly turned around, finding himself staring toward the camera.

And I have to start somewhere, don’t I? Arthur Wakefield isn’t the ideal way of starting this new lease of life that I’ve been given into The Tribunal but every task is a way of proving my place, am I right? I’ve never been fond of anyone with the name of “Wakefield” and that’s for good reason, they’re all tryharding bastards for whatever it might be worth to them. I’d like to believe that I have no qualms with the elder matriarch of the family name, Finnegan, but that would be a massive lie on my part and I’m not much of a liar in any way. There’s a lot that makes me a little bit pissed off because of Finnegan Wakefield. Shame, however, that he’ll duck ever coming back here but would happily fight his way through anyone elsewhere. Though, that’s none of my worry because I have to deal with the ... “Great Great Great, etc… Grandson” of that absolute cunt.

I assume you were one of those people that was dragged back, brought yourself back, whatever, (etc) that somehow stayed here because … reasons, I guess. I’ve never really cared about what kind of future anyone comes from, what makes a motherfucker so unique, or however anyone wants to spin the narrative around. I don’t give a shit but I will find what makes me just laugh at someone like Arthur Wakefield. They don’t want to go back and they can’t age, apparently, so they’re just doing whatever they want. For someone that’s a fighter, you’d think that they’d be a little more prominent around here rather than being in the Cuckholding Slags Academy. I never could understand why you’d ever want to be stuck back so far into the past that you’d see everything and more. After all, there’s nothing here for you to accomplish, your future might’ve already changed with how the evil Arata had died and morbidly the new and cleaner Arata appeared out of nowhere.

Aren’t you worried about anything that might simply damage the timeline for you? I mean, I know your elder grandmother very well, I happened to be very close with her at one point in our lives. Just imagine for a moment that her and your elder grandfather never really happened, what does that make you then? A look into the imagination of what could’ve been? Hell, you’d be calling me your great, great, great, great, great grandfather. I wouldn’t count it out yet, Arthur, because with all of those whores that your grandad has been undressing with his eyes, I wouldn’t put it past him that Alyssa isn’t even your grandmother from the very distant past. I wouldn’t put it past anyone if Arthur Wakefield is nothing like how he’s been presented as being, you know? I’ve seen so many talk about how you’re the future that Alyssa and Finnegan created, but who knows what your grandfather gets up to in his spare time, you know?

I know what your grandmother does when he’s not around, it’s impressive.

He chuckled to himself, leaning back against the small dresser that he was nearby.

“I know that’ll get people going when they begin to think about it. I’m hoping that you don’t have to anyway, Arthur. For what it’s worth, I wouldn’t think it’d last long as it is. Keeping things secret is harder than you expect but you won’t have to worry about that … yet. But, soon enough? You’ll only be a faded memory for those that are here and have to sadly remember you in some way. Even then, I won’t think anyone could remember you for who you are.

As far as it goes for me, I’m pretty much immortal whereas you’ve just got to live through the next one hundred and two years before you’re nothing but an unborn baby – and maybe, hopefully, your mother is in some serious accident which just happens to kill her and you. Maybe she becomes a slave to the system by your version of Arata in the year of 2150 and she’s put violent torture which sees an unfortunate accident where you never live to tell the tale, I can only for that to happen but we’ve got over a hundred years to see how it plays out, don’t we? I wish you could’ve been able to see what I’ve seen, Arthur. If you did, you’d never ever want to be sided with the family name you’re made to uphold. You’d never want to be in the bloodline of Wakefield.

… and maybe, you could’ve been the future grandson that I could’ve been given. I wouldn’t know what the future might hold, the next hundred years is a very long time for time itself to catch up to when it should be for you.” Jason paused, lowering their head and shaking their head from side to side, in disappointment, maybe. “These are the things that we must find out together, Arthur. However, as it is? I’m only focused on kicking the fucking shit out of you. We’ve got much time to forgive and forget, we do. But, as it stands, you’re still on the opposite side of what I represent and as it is, you’re going to be taught a very valuable lesson.

The future might’ve been enough for you to turn your back on, run away and escape with some others, but you’ve only opened yourself up to be met with far worse fates than what the future held for you. I’m not interested in you being the future of your family’s name, I’m already aware of the disappointment that they bring, but you’ve got to sit with that for a hundred years at least and you can’t do much to change it. Now, I know what you’re going to think: how? The thing with people like me, we love to make people suffer the most and we love making sure that the worst happens to those who deserve it more. You’re only the placeholder for your eldest grandfather and that’s all you’ll ever be. He did what he could here within the first year but nothing after that, nothing changed the narrative that he was as great as he spoke himself to be.

And he’d love to do the same for you but you’re already more of a disappointment than he could ever be. You’ve run from evil but you found yourself siding with evil again – how does it all make sense for you inside of that immature brain of yours, Arthur?”

A pause.

“This is what I’ve been trying to say for so long and yet, not a sinner would begin to listen. They did, however. They know how much it means to me to finally be listened to, to know that I am – and always have been – in the right about everyone around here. The Tribunal is a step in the right direction and I know it but everyone needs to see that we know what’s right and not what everyone else sees. For too long, I’ve been the hero that people wanted and when I saw an evil that people were becoming blinded to, they treated me as the villain. So, I gave them what they wanted. They wanted to see a villain in play, I fucking gave them one. Though I never saw it as being the villain… I was always the hero at the end of the day and that’ll never change. The only thing that does is allow others to see my vision, my path, my real purpose of being here.

I’d extend the hand out to you, Arthur, but I already know that you’re too far gone. There’s nothing much that can be saved with you, I can only hope that paths won’t cross much again because this is only an example of your new near future. This weekend will be the example being created. Afterward, we’re pushing forward to showing what is right and what isn’t. You can stand on the other side against us but you’ll have no chance of survival, I won’t allow it. That threat goes out to everyone and anyone as well because I intend to make sure that this doesn’t happen to just a handful of you, but to everyone that lives and breathes.

You don’t deserve the world you live upon, so we’re going to take it from you.”

Fade to black.

Alyssa Grace, Mami's Favorite Chew Toy, 'Don' Hendrix, Lazarus Arjen, Noah Krieger and Tyler Kulina have spoken. It’s such good shit!

Aria Jaxon
Re: OWA Promos
Post July 14th 2023, 11:45 pm by Aria Jaxon
BIG UP YOURSELF, ‘CAUSE YOU KNOW THEY DON’T. | NEWARK, NEW JERSEY.

I wasn’t supposed to be there.

That fact can't be overlooked. People didn’t believe me when I said I was content to be on the sideline and watch the Clash of the Titans as a fan this year. After all, why would the winner of the first Clash want to do anything in the world other than enter and try her hand at winning a second one, especially when the OWA World Championship is up for grabs? Believe it or not, when I was gearing up to return and thinking about the things I was most looking forward to, the Clash was near the top of the list. I thought I had everything figured out. All I had to do was return and manifest a fantastic season. After all, Aria Jaxon has never had any problem deciding what she wants and going after it – or at least, that’s been the widely-held belief for the better part of eight years. It was always so simple. I saw a nail, I grabbed a hammer.

And then, reality hit me like a fucking semi-truck.

See, on the timeline that we’re on at this moment, in the midst of the return run I’m actually having, nothing has really gone according to plan since I’ve been back. This shit feels like an out-of-body experience. I’ve known what it’s like to stumble and fall. I’ve taken some tough losses on the chin, but I’ve always bounced back. For every big-ticket loss I’ve experienced, I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t able to envision a path back to the top – and then carry out those best-laid plans. That’s what separates this present moment from all of the less-than-flattering moments of the past…not only do I not know how I fell into this abyss in the first place, I haven’t had any luck at all clawing myself back out. I can admit, there is a sense of frustration and borderline helplessness that accompanies all of that. One that I’m not at all used to.

Naturally, when there’s a dark length of tunnel ahead of you, what do you do? Walk towards the light at the end of it, right? Yeah. For a second, when my music hit back in Baltimore, a feeling of hope washed over me after the initial reluctance passed. I knew what a Clash win could do for someone. All in one night, all the mistakes and shortcomings of my return run thus far could be erased. It would all be null and void if I could make it to the end to claim the win and the gold. Stepping into the ring was akin to rushing headlong toward that light at the end of the tunnel. We all know what happened. The light is still eluding me, and yet, that wasn’t even where my night ended! So Rex Maddox, while you laid there at ringside, as bloodied, bruised, uncomfortable, and blindsided as you could’ve ever possibly been, I want you to remember something.

I wasn’t supposed to be there.

Foolish optimism led me to take my chances in the ring that night, yes, but of everyone whose shit list you could’ve wound up on, of all the people’s ire you could’ve drawn, you picked me. And just as my decision to enter the Clash at the last possible second sealed my fate, your decision to put yourself in my line of sight sealed yours. Stepping out of your lane is one thing. Fucking with me is more like rushing blindfolded onto a four-lane highway – and I’m a Mack truck ready to splatter you all over the pavement like A-Train did to that white girl on that Amazon show I don’t watch.

Deep down, there’s a part of me that can’t believe I even said that. Like…I didn’t even know you existed until recently. OWA, this company that I love so much and have loved for so many years now, has apparently entered its “fuck it, we’ll offer anyone a contract” phase quicker than I would’ve ever imagined. That disappoints me. Not as disappointing as the fact that I’m currently spending so much time addressing a dusty 7/11 cashier lookalike who I wouldn’t have been able to pick out of a lineup before recent events, but this is just something I have to get done. To get where I’m going, I have to be honest about where I’ve been, and I damn sure can’t leave any loose ends.

That’s what you amount to at this stage, Rex. A loose end. Nothing more, nothing less.

Now that I think about it, anyone could’ve been in your spot and this would be playing out exactly the same way. Any of the small dick energy ungroomed men in this locker room could’ve pulled the exact stunt you pulled, gone to the exact lengths you did to fuck with me, and nothing about this would be any different. Any NPC could’ve mixed it up with me in the ring, tried to prevent me from re-entering the ring, and had the gall to taunt me once I was eliminated…any one of them would’ve been spazzed on. Was it worth it? Was the pain of being beaten to a pulp and having your yellowing teeth kicked from your gingivitis-riddled gums worth the discomfort you experienced that night, or the humiliation awaiting you when I beat your ass now that it’ll really count for something? I asked for this match because stomping you out is a must at this very moment, and foolishly…you accepted. You could’ve declined. The images of what I did to you in Baltimore should’ve flashed in your head, and you should’ve thrown your hands up and said “I want no part of what this bitch is bringing to the table”. If I left you lying all because you decided to poke the bear when I was clearly on the brink, what do you think I’ll do when there’s a W up for grabs? My attention and focus is not a prize to be won, but by virtue of your own actions, it’s a prize you’ve won nonetheless.

At one point, that was common knowledge.

There was a point in time when nobody in their right mind wanted to fuck with me just for the sake of fucking with me. It doesn’t mean that people didn’t step up…it just meant they knew there was a very real chance they’d wind up as a statistic, rather than a victor. The way that things have gone for me recently has shown me just how short people’s memories really are. Once upon a time, Rex, a Johnny-come-lately disposable hack like you wouldn’t have dared to breathe the same air as me, let alone go out of your way to make me your enemy. My perceived weaknesses have clearly spurred feelings of bravery in you – so I need to extinguish them. More than that, I need to use you as a messenger. I need to channel all the most formidable parts of myself – the standard-bearer of OWA, the ruthless ace of SSW, the god-reign-toting poster girl of [REDACTED] – to return to my rightful place in the sun. Your broken body and bruised ego will be the tangible evidence that the Aria Jaxon of old has not only returned in rare form but that she’s better and hungrier than she’s ever been.

Am I underestimating you? Nah. I think my estimation of what you are is quite spot-on. I think my assessment of you as a spineless, juvenile waste of a roster spot who thought you had any business sparring with the GOAT is very accurate, given our interactions with each other up to this point. I am so uninterested in who you were or what you were doing before that night at the Clash, Rex, that I don’t even know if you’d had any matches in OWA before that. If you did, I don’t know if you won or lost them. I don’t know what you’ve said to past opponents. I don’t know if the dirt sheets are (wrongly) pointing at you as one of the new guys to watch or not. I don’t care about what you had going on before you tried to kick me while I was down. None of that matters to me, because the most formative event in your pissant life up to this point was the mistake you made in becoming an opp of mine. The Clash, when I left you lying, was the first night in your life that you mattered. And this night in Newark – a city where I’ve got some history – will be the second and final one. “The guy put in the dirt by Aria Jaxon” only carries value and notoriety for so long, sweetheart. When that fades in a couple of weeks’ time, you’ll go back to being just another nameless, faceless drone, doomed to be released before you can become any more of a disappointment than you already are.

Not too long ago, a chief complaint of mine was that there was this voice in the back of my head making me question whether or not I’d done the right thing coming back. It reminded me of the very real possibility that a failed return could be a blemish on my Hall of Fame career if I didn’t play my cards right. And then, sometime after the…mysterious flash of light in the Clash, that voice was ground under the heel of something more powerful. An entity with a voice even louder, the cheerleader I’ve clearly needed all this time. See, this new voice is even louder, and it’s reminding me that the only person who can pull me out of this rut is me. The only person who can remind the world of just how good Aria Jaxon is…is Aria Jaxon. I won’t get there by being the passive veteran who’s just happy to be here. I’ve learned that lesson the hard way. At the onset, I didn’t plan on my path to the top being paved with the bodies and spirits of everyone who’s doubted me, but hey…the best among us know how to pivot and change plans, right?

Come and dance with me in the spotlight on Kingdom, Rex. Enjoy these fleeting moments of infamy. Let the feeling of actually mattering sink in for you, however brief all of this may be. The end of your little time in the limelight will also constitute my new beginning, and I can’t wait.

Mav., Alyssa Grace, Mami's Favorite Chew Toy, Rebecca Filth, 'Don' Hendrix, Remington Ivory Prescott, DT The Ruler and have spoken. It’s such good shit!

J.D. Damon
Re: OWA Promos
Post July 14th 2023, 11:13 pm by J.D. Damon
A couple of weeks have gone by since Clash of the Titans, a match where it is every man for themselves. Every single person praying for the opportunity to headline the biggest event of the year… Final Destination. But, this year… this year the match had a much bigger opportunity than just main eventing a show. This year… the winner of the match walked out as the OWA World Champion. A championship that many have eyed since the creation of this company. However, there’s one man who has eyed that title for so long that it has become some sort of obsession for him. He has had a few opportunities to challenge for the title, but each time he has come up short.
 
J.D. Damon sits slumped on the couch of his luxury hotel room. It’s only a couple short days before this week’s episode of Kingdom from the Prudential Center in Newark, New Jersey. He wipes sweat from his forehead with a towel as he takes several sips from a water bottle.
 
Newark, New Jersey… the armpit of the United States. Who in the right mind would ever want to live in a shithole like New Jersey? The entire state smells like Jeff X’s girlfriend’s asshole. After this week’s Kingdom, I will be damned if I ever step foot in this state again.
 
Apparently Damon has a pure hated for the state of New Jersey. Most likely suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder from working for what the veterans called, “The New Jersey Prison Camp.” After several seconds of putting down the entire state of New Jersey and its inhabitants, Mr. Damon continues.
 
God is real.
 
That’s the belief shared by the majority of the world, barring the select few who understand that they are in the minority. All of the believers have different beliefs regarding God, but they are all united in the idea of him being real. Nobody knows how God actually looks. Nobody knows what God actually sounds like. Nobody knows anything about God, except for the stories that have been passed down to them by their ancestors. Some people claim to have seen him. Visions? Maybe. Delusions. Abso-fucking-lutely, and of course the fact remains that there is not a single one of you that can say you have stood in the same room as God. None of you can say you have stood in the same vicinity as God, so let me just ask you this question.
 
If you could stand face to face with God…
 
What do you think you would see?
 
There have been countless ideas over the years regarding God’s appearance and for what it’s worth, I don’t blame anybody for the speculation. How could anyone NOT be curious? How could humans be expected to spend an eternity with the knowledge that there is life above them without ever wondering what that life looks like? Especially within the wrestling industry… I can imagine the curiosity has almost become frustrating because for years you all had the likes of Nathan Fiora pretending HE was some sort of almighty being… a prophet… whatever the fuck he believed he was… and to be fair, it’s not like anybody had enough balls to shut him down. Or even Jeff X. Sure, maybe he never actually came out and said he was God, but the man sure as hell led a cult of followers who definitely put his ass up on a pedestal and bowed down like he was some supreme being. Even with all of Jeff X’s defeats, he always found a way to come back stronger than ever and I’m sure some of you probably started to consider that maybe… JUST MAYBE… he actually IS God. That’s the level of uncertainty this world is made up of, all because of the fact that for years, nobody has actually seen God. This business has been around for five whole years, yet every career has eventually come to an end despite all of the claims of immortality. Supposed God could retire. Those that were meant to live on a higher plane of existence than the rest of us would eventually come crashing right back down to Earth, and eventually it reaches the point where titles like “God” become so meaningless that guys like DT the Ruler would just attach it to whatever championship he was holding at the time. This is what happens when an entire industry is left without someone to finally make things right. This is what happens once an industry is out of control and clearly lacks the leadership necessary to move forward. I want to know what you think you would see if you could take even one look at God. One single glance. Even for ten seconds. Because that alone… will tell me everything. That along will help me completely understand your mindset regarding your opponent. I don’t care about your ideals or what you hope to see, I care about what you wholeheartedly believe you would see. I care about your genuine thoughts on the matter. Do you know what I think?
 
I think you will have your answer on Kingdom.
 
“Wait - what did he just say?!”
 
You heard me right. When you see J.D. fucking Damon this Sunday night… you will be looking at GOD!
 
I’m obviously not wrong when I say that. If you think about for a while, you will understand. It’s just common sense. Think about it for a second. If someone is capable of doing the impossible, something that no other human on the entire planet is capable of doing regardless of how hard they try, how talented they are, or any other factors that should be capable of swinging the odds in their favor, what does that make the one who did it? What does it mean when ONE MAN has the ability to change the entire world of professional wrestling all on his own? Is he still just a man when he is capable of feats no other human can accomplish? Is he still just a man when he can do things entire companies aren’t capable of? I don’t think so! Not in this scenario at least, and if we are being completely honest… my opinion is the only one that actually matters right now. What does it mean when ONE MAN can run the entire Kingdom brand on his own? It obviously means that I’m not of this world. I am going to break both Jeff X and Nas this Sunday night. Nate Cage and I are going to overcome the odds that are greatly stacked against us. We will go face to face with two men who have been praised and loved for many, many years and we are going to cripple both of them. Plain and simple.
 
Jeff X is a man who attempted to lead The Frontline and a good majority of the entire Kingdom roster for damn near three years. A man who wanted every single person and their mothers to bow down and kiss his ass because he was the only one who wanted to lead the charge against other forces such as The Ashes of the Wake and Abholos. Sure… I may have joined him to fight the good fight, but did you see me out there leading the entire charge? Hell no! Because I actually have a brain. But there is one thing that I can guarantee, and that is if I wasn’t fighting beside Jeff, there would have been no way in hell he would have walked away from the first Great War. Jeff wanted to run in there, guns blazing with no clear intentions. It was me who had to pull him aside and get his mind focused on what we had to accomplish. If it wasn’t for me… it probably would have been Jeff X dying that fateful night instead of Kenny Drake. But then against… maybe that wouldn’t have been so bad. Jeff is a man who was only in this entire thing for himself. He wanted to gain more clout. He wanted all of the praise for everything that we accomplished as The Frontline. Jeff is nothing more than a selfish egomaniac who constantly wants the spotlight on himself and him only. Unfortunately for you Jeff, your time is up… and my time… is.. now…?
 
No, that sounds stupid.
 
But you get the picture.
 
I’m not going to come out here and down all of the things that you have accomplished throughout your entire time with this company, but it’s definitely time for you to sit back and let others finally get in the spotlight. It’s time to turn the spotlight around and point it at good ole J.D. Damon.
 
I may not put down all of your accolades, but I will put down the fact that you have never been too good at picking people who you hang around. First it was Christopher Sabertooth, a man who wanted nothing more than to watch you bleed out in some dark alley, but because he supposedly repented for everything that he did to not only you, but the rest of the Kingdom roster, you decided to choose him as your new best friend and tag team partner. Great idea, Jeff. Sure, it may have gotten you guys a World Tag Team Title run - the longest reign in the company’s history at that - but, that would bring us back to the fact that you are only in this industry for the clout. But now… BUT NOW… you have fucking Nas - OF ALL PEOPLE - standing beside you against Nate and I. Nas… a man who was KICKED OUT of his company for the past couple of years, but because he said he was sorry or whatever was let back in. What kind of company is Scott Oasis running here?!
 
You both can come out and say whatever excuses you both want, but the fact of the matter remains… You two are nothing but a JOKE!
 
In all honesty… it doesn’t even really matter to me who walks out the winner of this match, but as long as I exist… as long as I still have breath in my body and my heart continues to beat… you, Jeff X, are fighting a pointless, unwinnable battle against me. Right now it’s fun to watch, but eventually it’s just going to get old. You can’t keep this up forever, Jeffrey. People will eventually start getting bored of watching me beat you with my words. Eventually you are going to fall flat on your fucking face and hate the world without the slightest bit of an idea where this industry is going. People will eventually start to realize that there is no point in paying any attention to you anymore because it’s just the exact same thing every single week with you. Why pay attention to someone like you when they could instead focus on some of the bigger and better names around this company? Better year… why think about you at all when I am on the same brand as you?! You keep pretending you’re needed in this business for being a so-called “legend” but what are you doing that’s so special? I’ll answer that for you, Jeffrey. ABSOLUTELY NOTHING!
 
You will finally begin to comprehend that you are a NOTHING in my eyes after Sunday night, but until then I want you to know this. You are no the first person who has attempted to stop me. I’ve had countless people try to kill me, try to get rid of me, try to eliminate me, try to cripple me, and do whatever it takes to prevent the world from seeing J.D. fucking Damon ever again. I have had greater people than you, Jeffrey, try to stop me, but you know what always happens in the end? I keep on ticking. And I will continue ticking once the smoke has cleared and Sunday is nothing more than a distant memory in your brain. Nobody will ever be able to rid of me. Not Jeff X. Not Nas. Not Michael Bishop. NOBODY! I am the past, the present, and the future of not only this company, but the entire wrestling industry as a whole. You can come out and say all you want about me and my past failures, but that’s exactly what they are. THEY ARE IN THE PAST. My eyes are focused. For once in my life… I am seeing clearly now, and I will not stop until people like Jeff X and Nas… two men who have done nothing but hold down people like me for years… are six feet in the ground.
 
Gentlemen… this Sunday night, Nate and I are going to tear you both apart. We are going to make you both understand why Wolvesden is something that you fuck with. And unlike the two of you… Wolvesden will live on forever. We are immortal. After we cripple the both of you, the only thing that you two will be able to see is me standing over the both of you in triumphant as the fucking GOD that I am.
 
Wolves Aeternum.

Bobby Wheeler, Alyssa Grace, Mami's Favorite Chew Toy and 'Don' Hendrix have spoken. It’s such good shit!

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