Post by "The Hybrid" Damian Dimitri on Nov 5, 2010 2:20:26 GMT -4
*The pirated video feed of The Blackwells’ Personal Cameraman, Emrys statics into life to show the weight room on the bottom floor of the building that houses the event center that serves as the soon to be infamous IWC Arena. At 4 AM, this weight room is just off of the huge, all-encompassing main room known as The Blackwell Academy where “The Hardcora Luchadora” Katrina Arcadia Olivetti works out in the ring, naively believing herself to be the only person in the building at this late hour.
But if you want to read Katrina’s roleplay, go back to the IWC Roleplays Board. This here is a different story entirely.
This is the story of the future of the wrestling industry, why he did what he did, and what he’s going to do at the first IWC Asylum of the President Jeff era. But we’ll get to him soon enough.
First, let’s set the scene…
Despite the grim and gritty appearance of everything else in this building… the IWC Arena… the Blackwell Academy… the bathrooms… the locker rooms… Katrina’s apartment/IWC storage area… this weight room is pristine and immaculate. It features the finest in state of the art exercise equipment and universal weight machines. But that’s not where we find the subject of today’s story or his adopted dysfunctional family… Indeed, The Barbed Wire Buzzsaw, “The Hybrid” Damian Dimitri finds such contraptions too high tech and variable. He prefers the reliability and functionality of the old fashioned weight bench he’s laying on. He finds the stability of the weight bar and disc weights that he’s putting up in successive repetitions oddly comforting in its simplicity. There are no mechanisms here. There are no pulleys and countermeasures. Just the age old struggle of muscle against steel… Damian’s strength being the only thing separating workout from fatal accident…
Well, that and the 6’5”, 293 lb Paragon of Hardcore that’s spotting him.
But this man hovering over him, counting his repetitions is more than just a simple spotter or workout partner. This is The King of Hardcore. This is “The Career Killer” Trevor Blackwell. This is his mentor. This is the man Damian Dimitri considers to be his second father… and he trusts him with his life.
The third person in this scene is much, much smaller… but no less loved in The Hybrid’s eyes. For those of you who haven’t been here all that long, let me introduce nine year old Skyler Blackwell. She’s one of two of Trevor Blackwell’s daughters. This is the one Trevor has custody of. With her long, jet black hair and ice blue eyes, she has all the defining features of a Blackwell… but the rest of her face is the spitting image of her mother, Diana Lambardo. As far as we know, she’s dead… killed by a drunk driver a handful of years ago while she was an active roster member in APW… but who knows if she’s really dead… Diana’s a tough girl and has been known to come back from worse…
Skyler is currently sitting on Damian Dimitri’s shirtless, sweat dappled stomach as he diligently puts up repetition after repetition with the weigh bar. She watches The Barbed Wire Buzzsaw with adoring eyes, fascinated by him… But Damian doesn’t notice. His eyes are focused on the flat video screen that hangs on the wall beside him. Just like the one in The Blackwells’ locker room, this screen is plugged into IWC’s website showing nonstop streaming of Insane Wrestling Championships. Currently, The Hybrid’s glazed over eyes are taking in the first promo of his opponent for the main event of this week’s Asylum… “Supersonic” Branden Harvey. Branden is currently showing off his stitches like some well earned war wound and prattling on about how for some reason being green and inexperienced is supposed to be an advantage for him. Man… this kid must really be grasping at straws. Damian distantly hears his mentor’s voice in the background. He even answers him. But really it’s all on auto pilot.*
Trevor: This guy brings up a valid question, Damian… Why did you attack him?
*The Barbed Wire Buzzsaw doesn’t look away from the screen… from Branden’s dopey face… but his voice takes on a tone of sarcasm and incredulity.*
Damian: Who are you and where did The Career Killer go?
*Blackwell’s brow creases into lines… not the scars from barbed wire and broken glass… but frown lines as little Skyler giggles. The eldest Blackwell “thwaps” The Hybrid across the bridge of the nose HARD with two fingers, making a little trickle of blood leak out of Damian’s left nostril and pool on the weight bench under his head. But The Barbed Wire Buzzsaw’s face doesn’t grimace or show any other visible sign of pain or shock… his eyes stay focused on the screen as he continues putting up the weight bar without skipping a beat. Skyler goes for a towel to wipe her idol’s face but a stern look from her father’s ice blue eyes is enough to stop her dead in her tracks.*
Trevor: Watch your tone, Kid. Don’t act like you think I’ve gone soft. I’m not reprimanding you for what you did. I’m actually quite proud of you. You remind me of myself at your age. I just want to know why you did it…
*The Hybrid’s breathing stays level but he talks with a bit of effort under the strain of his workout. Skyler stifles a giggle as she rises and falls with every lungful of air.*
Damian: Just look at him… Do you really have to ask me that, Trevor? Or do you just want to hear a promo for this week’s match?
*Trevor shrugs but The Barbed Wire Buzzsaw doesn’t really give his mentor a chance to answer. He wasn’t really asking that as a question… not one he wanted a reply to, anyway… he keeps rambling on with his rhetoric. The Excellence of Extreme lets him. This IS Damian’s camera time after all.*
Damian: Did you hear what he said? He thinks I should be banned from wrestling for what I did…
*On screen, “Supersonic” Branden Harvey says, “This is NOT Street Fighter’s Anonymous. When I fight you, it is going to be in the ring.”
Skyler looks up at the screen and giggles, the following statement showing that even at nine years old, she’s already better educated than Branden Harvey.*
Skyler: That sounds like a self-help group, not a pro fighting organization…
*The Hybrid’s face doesn’t change but you can hear laughter in his voice for a moment which quickly fades and gives way to pity.*
Damian: See? Even a little girl could pick apart this guy’s promo. But that’s not why I attacked him. I didn’t do it to humiliate him. I did it to try to prove a point… to try to drive a message home… and Branden Harvey has blatantly shown that he really wasn’t listening.
*The Career Killer laughs, shaking his head.*
Trevor: Maybe you hit him too hard and knocked something loose…
*The Barbed Wire Buzzsaw growls and starts putting up the weight bar in faster repetitions… almost double time as Damian’s speech picks up steam. Skyler’s eyes widen and her face lights up with awe. Hero worship isn’t the right term… but it’s the first one that comes to mind.*
Damian: You don’t understand. I don’t think anyone does. I attacked him as a favor to him. I did it to better his game. I did it to prepare him for the horrors that are to come. I saw his debut promo and heard his, “Golly Gee Wilikers… I’m here to do my best and win matches and I hope you all are entertained now I’m gonna go drink milk and jerk off to Archie Comics” routine and I almost vomited in revulsion. I thought, “This poor sonofabitch! He has no clue what he’s got coming to him! The Misfits of IWC are going to eat him alive!”… So I tried to smarten him up to the business. I tried to toughen him up a little bit. I tried to show him what he was going to have to face in the next few weeks and months and years if he wanted a snowball’s chance in Hell of making it in IWC! This isn’t APW! This isn’t some PG-13 mainstream wrestling federation where we take soft bumps and have choreography and predetermined outcomes. Every single match he has in that arena is going to be the fight of his life! But he just doesn’t seem to understand. He whines about stitches and says he’s gunning for me. And if he doesn’t bring his absolute A Game… if he doesn’t dig deep down within himself and find out exactly what that means, I’m going to tear him to shreds and leave little bits of him all over the crowd as souvenirs… Something the IWC Faithful can take home to show people the massacre they witnessed… props they can use to try to illustrate how hard this match was to watch… how difficult it was to endure the symphony of his agony and the sweet sounds of his bones snapping… and what it was like to see a true artist… a true master of his craft at work…
*At this, The Hybrid looks up into the wide, adoring eyes of Skyler Blackwell as her father helps Damian blindly put the weight bar back on its rack.*
Damian: They can talk about how they were there to see the birth of the era of The Hybrid and how poor little Branden Harvey was nothing but a stepping stone… an example of what happens when you don’t listen.
*Skyler’s voice is weak as she responds to The Barbed Wire Buzzsaw… whether from fear or reverence is hard to tell.*
Skyler: I… I listen…
*The Hybrid sits up now and grabs the towel with a smile, wiping the sweat and blood from his face before kissing the little girl’s forehead.*
Damian: I know you do, Sweetheart… that’s because you’re more grown up than Branden Harvey…
*The Paragon of Hardcore… The Excellence of Extreme… The Career Killer… the one who’s opinion matters most to Damian Dimitri clasps his hand on his former student’s shoulder with a ridiculously huge smile that threatens to split his face.*
Trevor: Now… Now you’re ready…
*Little Skyler Blackwell hops down and takes the towel, her face a complete study in ardor as she clutches the sweat rag like it was a piece of Jesus’s robe, watching Damian walk towards the exit door out to The Blackwell Academy.*
Trevor: Going to get some sleep?
*Damian turns with a sick grin… his body electric… blood trickling from his nose again.*
Damian: Sleep? I don’t think I could if I tried… I’m too pumped… I think I’m gonna go run laps…
*The Hybrid wanders out into The Blackwell Academy… a place where he naively thinks he’s alone as well… but we’ll save that for a completely different roleplay…
Little Skyler looks up at her Daddy with the adorable smile that can only be properly pulled off by a nine year old with her first real crush.*
Skyler: Daddy… I think you did a great job with that student… I really like him…
*The Paragon of Hardcore smiles down to his daughter but doesn’t look at her, his ice blue eyes still on the spot Damian just vacated.*
Trevor: I do too, Babygirl… I think he makes a great big brother for you…
*Little Skyler’s eyes… the same color as her father’s but showing way too much understanding for a girl her age… cast downwards to the floor as Emrys’s pirated video feed fades out on her words.*
Skyler: Yeah… big brother… of course, Daddy…
But if you want to read Katrina’s roleplay, go back to the IWC Roleplays Board. This here is a different story entirely.
This is the story of the future of the wrestling industry, why he did what he did, and what he’s going to do at the first IWC Asylum of the President Jeff era. But we’ll get to him soon enough.
First, let’s set the scene…
Despite the grim and gritty appearance of everything else in this building… the IWC Arena… the Blackwell Academy… the bathrooms… the locker rooms… Katrina’s apartment/IWC storage area… this weight room is pristine and immaculate. It features the finest in state of the art exercise equipment and universal weight machines. But that’s not where we find the subject of today’s story or his adopted dysfunctional family… Indeed, The Barbed Wire Buzzsaw, “The Hybrid” Damian Dimitri finds such contraptions too high tech and variable. He prefers the reliability and functionality of the old fashioned weight bench he’s laying on. He finds the stability of the weight bar and disc weights that he’s putting up in successive repetitions oddly comforting in its simplicity. There are no mechanisms here. There are no pulleys and countermeasures. Just the age old struggle of muscle against steel… Damian’s strength being the only thing separating workout from fatal accident…
Well, that and the 6’5”, 293 lb Paragon of Hardcore that’s spotting him.
But this man hovering over him, counting his repetitions is more than just a simple spotter or workout partner. This is The King of Hardcore. This is “The Career Killer” Trevor Blackwell. This is his mentor. This is the man Damian Dimitri considers to be his second father… and he trusts him with his life.
The third person in this scene is much, much smaller… but no less loved in The Hybrid’s eyes. For those of you who haven’t been here all that long, let me introduce nine year old Skyler Blackwell. She’s one of two of Trevor Blackwell’s daughters. This is the one Trevor has custody of. With her long, jet black hair and ice blue eyes, she has all the defining features of a Blackwell… but the rest of her face is the spitting image of her mother, Diana Lambardo. As far as we know, she’s dead… killed by a drunk driver a handful of years ago while she was an active roster member in APW… but who knows if she’s really dead… Diana’s a tough girl and has been known to come back from worse…
Skyler is currently sitting on Damian Dimitri’s shirtless, sweat dappled stomach as he diligently puts up repetition after repetition with the weigh bar. She watches The Barbed Wire Buzzsaw with adoring eyes, fascinated by him… But Damian doesn’t notice. His eyes are focused on the flat video screen that hangs on the wall beside him. Just like the one in The Blackwells’ locker room, this screen is plugged into IWC’s website showing nonstop streaming of Insane Wrestling Championships. Currently, The Hybrid’s glazed over eyes are taking in the first promo of his opponent for the main event of this week’s Asylum… “Supersonic” Branden Harvey. Branden is currently showing off his stitches like some well earned war wound and prattling on about how for some reason being green and inexperienced is supposed to be an advantage for him. Man… this kid must really be grasping at straws. Damian distantly hears his mentor’s voice in the background. He even answers him. But really it’s all on auto pilot.*
Trevor: This guy brings up a valid question, Damian… Why did you attack him?
*The Barbed Wire Buzzsaw doesn’t look away from the screen… from Branden’s dopey face… but his voice takes on a tone of sarcasm and incredulity.*
Damian: Who are you and where did The Career Killer go?
*Blackwell’s brow creases into lines… not the scars from barbed wire and broken glass… but frown lines as little Skyler giggles. The eldest Blackwell “thwaps” The Hybrid across the bridge of the nose HARD with two fingers, making a little trickle of blood leak out of Damian’s left nostril and pool on the weight bench under his head. But The Barbed Wire Buzzsaw’s face doesn’t grimace or show any other visible sign of pain or shock… his eyes stay focused on the screen as he continues putting up the weight bar without skipping a beat. Skyler goes for a towel to wipe her idol’s face but a stern look from her father’s ice blue eyes is enough to stop her dead in her tracks.*
Trevor: Watch your tone, Kid. Don’t act like you think I’ve gone soft. I’m not reprimanding you for what you did. I’m actually quite proud of you. You remind me of myself at your age. I just want to know why you did it…
*The Hybrid’s breathing stays level but he talks with a bit of effort under the strain of his workout. Skyler stifles a giggle as she rises and falls with every lungful of air.*
Damian: Just look at him… Do you really have to ask me that, Trevor? Or do you just want to hear a promo for this week’s match?
*Trevor shrugs but The Barbed Wire Buzzsaw doesn’t really give his mentor a chance to answer. He wasn’t really asking that as a question… not one he wanted a reply to, anyway… he keeps rambling on with his rhetoric. The Excellence of Extreme lets him. This IS Damian’s camera time after all.*
Damian: Did you hear what he said? He thinks I should be banned from wrestling for what I did…
*On screen, “Supersonic” Branden Harvey says, “This is NOT Street Fighter’s Anonymous. When I fight you, it is going to be in the ring.”
Skyler looks up at the screen and giggles, the following statement showing that even at nine years old, she’s already better educated than Branden Harvey.*
Skyler: That sounds like a self-help group, not a pro fighting organization…
*The Hybrid’s face doesn’t change but you can hear laughter in his voice for a moment which quickly fades and gives way to pity.*
Damian: See? Even a little girl could pick apart this guy’s promo. But that’s not why I attacked him. I didn’t do it to humiliate him. I did it to try to prove a point… to try to drive a message home… and Branden Harvey has blatantly shown that he really wasn’t listening.
*The Career Killer laughs, shaking his head.*
Trevor: Maybe you hit him too hard and knocked something loose…
*The Barbed Wire Buzzsaw growls and starts putting up the weight bar in faster repetitions… almost double time as Damian’s speech picks up steam. Skyler’s eyes widen and her face lights up with awe. Hero worship isn’t the right term… but it’s the first one that comes to mind.*
Damian: You don’t understand. I don’t think anyone does. I attacked him as a favor to him. I did it to better his game. I did it to prepare him for the horrors that are to come. I saw his debut promo and heard his, “Golly Gee Wilikers… I’m here to do my best and win matches and I hope you all are entertained now I’m gonna go drink milk and jerk off to Archie Comics” routine and I almost vomited in revulsion. I thought, “This poor sonofabitch! He has no clue what he’s got coming to him! The Misfits of IWC are going to eat him alive!”… So I tried to smarten him up to the business. I tried to toughen him up a little bit. I tried to show him what he was going to have to face in the next few weeks and months and years if he wanted a snowball’s chance in Hell of making it in IWC! This isn’t APW! This isn’t some PG-13 mainstream wrestling federation where we take soft bumps and have choreography and predetermined outcomes. Every single match he has in that arena is going to be the fight of his life! But he just doesn’t seem to understand. He whines about stitches and says he’s gunning for me. And if he doesn’t bring his absolute A Game… if he doesn’t dig deep down within himself and find out exactly what that means, I’m going to tear him to shreds and leave little bits of him all over the crowd as souvenirs… Something the IWC Faithful can take home to show people the massacre they witnessed… props they can use to try to illustrate how hard this match was to watch… how difficult it was to endure the symphony of his agony and the sweet sounds of his bones snapping… and what it was like to see a true artist… a true master of his craft at work…
*At this, The Hybrid looks up into the wide, adoring eyes of Skyler Blackwell as her father helps Damian blindly put the weight bar back on its rack.*
Damian: They can talk about how they were there to see the birth of the era of The Hybrid and how poor little Branden Harvey was nothing but a stepping stone… an example of what happens when you don’t listen.
*Skyler’s voice is weak as she responds to The Barbed Wire Buzzsaw… whether from fear or reverence is hard to tell.*
Skyler: I… I listen…
*The Hybrid sits up now and grabs the towel with a smile, wiping the sweat and blood from his face before kissing the little girl’s forehead.*
Damian: I know you do, Sweetheart… that’s because you’re more grown up than Branden Harvey…
*The Paragon of Hardcore… The Excellence of Extreme… The Career Killer… the one who’s opinion matters most to Damian Dimitri clasps his hand on his former student’s shoulder with a ridiculously huge smile that threatens to split his face.*
Trevor: Now… Now you’re ready…
*Little Skyler Blackwell hops down and takes the towel, her face a complete study in ardor as she clutches the sweat rag like it was a piece of Jesus’s robe, watching Damian walk towards the exit door out to The Blackwell Academy.*
Trevor: Going to get some sleep?
*Damian turns with a sick grin… his body electric… blood trickling from his nose again.*
Damian: Sleep? I don’t think I could if I tried… I’m too pumped… I think I’m gonna go run laps…
*The Hybrid wanders out into The Blackwell Academy… a place where he naively thinks he’s alone as well… but we’ll save that for a completely different roleplay…
Little Skyler looks up at her Daddy with the adorable smile that can only be properly pulled off by a nine year old with her first real crush.*
Skyler: Daddy… I think you did a great job with that student… I really like him…
*The Paragon of Hardcore smiles down to his daughter but doesn’t look at her, his ice blue eyes still on the spot Damian just vacated.*
Trevor: I do too, Babygirl… I think he makes a great big brother for you…
*Little Skyler’s eyes… the same color as her father’s but showing way too much understanding for a girl her age… cast downwards to the floor as Emrys’s pirated video feed fades out on her words.*
Skyler: Yeah… big brother… of course, Daddy…
