Post by Lady Munin on Apr 8, 2016 4:37:46 GMT
OOC - RP Originally written for EW's Bad Behaviour 9 vs. Spot Crack. There's some elements I wish to continue with the character from it.)
The pale moonlight shines down in Imperial, California. The dark brown ’85 Chevy Camaro sits in the parking lot of the Greedy Pupils Carnival but there is no Stevie Harris in sight. Instead he’s made him way into the building. A quick meeting and induction was all that were on the cards for Harris tonight, he won’t make his debut until next week. That’s fine, thought Stevie. He shook the man’s hand and left with the paperwork, intent to witness the shows action. Harris worked his way through the backstage area, being stopped by security twice. Once he produced the work documentation he was fine. There was an air of violence about, it made Stevie twitch with excitement. He decided that the next security guard to stop him, maybe he’ll forget to show his work contract and maybe he’ll be forced to defend himself when the guard tries to force him out. And maybe, just maybe, that guard will be off work for long enough to miss a rent payment. The old Stevie would have done this without hesitation, then invited the injured man and his family to stay with him. The guard, his young wife and maybe even their kids. Until their usefulness ran out.
Making his way backstage, Harris finally finds access to the bleachers. He spots a spare seat a few rows back and hustles past peoples knees to take it. On one side, a young couple sit. The girl, blonde, bored. The boy, your typical jock. Wearing a Doctor Powerful Incorporated shirt. He seems to launch out of his seat every minute or so. To Stevie’s right is a Dad and his son. Maybe it’s a boy’s night out. Maybe he’s divorced and had to have a big argument with the ex-wife over taking his boy out on a non-custody night. Maybe he’s a widower, as some tragedy has befallen her. Maybe late one night someone snuck in their window and she was never heard from again.
A food vendor heads up the stairs, a food cart strapped around his neck and back. Stevie calls out for a soda and some fairy floss. The floss comes in green but with a few red spots through it. There’s rumors that things aren’t quite what they seem at this carnival, right down to the fairy floss. Harris offers some to the girl next to him and she nervously takes some but the nerves are put to ease once Stevie flashes a smile and puts his focus back on the action in the ring.
Few matches interest him. Some pretty boy and his boyfriend were out there when he seated, fighting a Kraut. Harris makes jokes about their sexuality to the girl besides him as she laughs, taking more cotton candy. The three way tag is a wild one. Stevie’s been informed that it’s likely he’ll be facing a man named Spot in his first match, so he pays particular attention to him. A dope fiend teaming with another dope fiend. This place has room for everyone. Raike and Kay look like they’d probably party with the pretty boy from earlier while The Bombtrax work together like they’re militia trained. A psycho clown faces off against an Italian after. This was more to Harris’s liking, he even highfived the jock at one stage, when the clown spit his blood all over the Italians face. The main event started, one look at them and Harris knew he wanted to leave. He whispered something into the girls ear. She looked at him, then whispered something to her boyfriend. They both looked at him and Harris pulled something out of his pocket, discreetly showing them before hiding it.
“You guys know where we can party or what?”
We cut to back to the ’85 Chevy Camero. It’s no longer empty as Stevie Harris is now sitting in the front seat. Cigarette in hand, he’s taking a moment to compose. He leans into the glove box and pulls out a portable tape recorder, ready to record his thoughts. A slight banging can be heard in the background, Harris’s talking easily drowns it out.
“Spot. Spot Crack. The stars have aligned. You’re the first one up. It’s been a while so I might be a little rusty but you’ll get what’s coming to you all right. It’s nice that they’re letting me start with a dope fiend. If something bad happens to you, no one will care. That Eddie guy, he’ll be running fast to the next meth head he can convince to put a mask on. You’re his cash cow, he’ll probably put your mask on someone and pretend they’re you to the office. Can’t say I blame him, a disappointment like you is only good for one thing and your body is going to be too beaten and broken to even do that soon. Keep those eyes closed, it’s all going to be over soon. Spot Crack, I’m the hotshot you’ve been waiting your whole life for."
The ’85 Chevy pulls out. It was parked against the edge of the car park. If anyone bothers to walk back a few meters to where the trees begin, they’ll find the unconscious body of a young men, wearing a Doctor Powerful Incorporated shirt.
Read more: officialpurepro.boards.net/thread/37/show#ixzz45Cs5Jybx
The pale moonlight shines down in Imperial, California. The dark brown ’85 Chevy Camaro sits in the parking lot of the Greedy Pupils Carnival but there is no Stevie Harris in sight. Instead he’s made him way into the building. A quick meeting and induction was all that were on the cards for Harris tonight, he won’t make his debut until next week. That’s fine, thought Stevie. He shook the man’s hand and left with the paperwork, intent to witness the shows action. Harris worked his way through the backstage area, being stopped by security twice. Once he produced the work documentation he was fine. There was an air of violence about, it made Stevie twitch with excitement. He decided that the next security guard to stop him, maybe he’ll forget to show his work contract and maybe he’ll be forced to defend himself when the guard tries to force him out. And maybe, just maybe, that guard will be off work for long enough to miss a rent payment. The old Stevie would have done this without hesitation, then invited the injured man and his family to stay with him. The guard, his young wife and maybe even their kids. Until their usefulness ran out.
Making his way backstage, Harris finally finds access to the bleachers. He spots a spare seat a few rows back and hustles past peoples knees to take it. On one side, a young couple sit. The girl, blonde, bored. The boy, your typical jock. Wearing a Doctor Powerful Incorporated shirt. He seems to launch out of his seat every minute or so. To Stevie’s right is a Dad and his son. Maybe it’s a boy’s night out. Maybe he’s divorced and had to have a big argument with the ex-wife over taking his boy out on a non-custody night. Maybe he’s a widower, as some tragedy has befallen her. Maybe late one night someone snuck in their window and she was never heard from again.
A food vendor heads up the stairs, a food cart strapped around his neck and back. Stevie calls out for a soda and some fairy floss. The floss comes in green but with a few red spots through it. There’s rumors that things aren’t quite what they seem at this carnival, right down to the fairy floss. Harris offers some to the girl next to him and she nervously takes some but the nerves are put to ease once Stevie flashes a smile and puts his focus back on the action in the ring.
Few matches interest him. Some pretty boy and his boyfriend were out there when he seated, fighting a Kraut. Harris makes jokes about their sexuality to the girl besides him as she laughs, taking more cotton candy. The three way tag is a wild one. Stevie’s been informed that it’s likely he’ll be facing a man named Spot in his first match, so he pays particular attention to him. A dope fiend teaming with another dope fiend. This place has room for everyone. Raike and Kay look like they’d probably party with the pretty boy from earlier while The Bombtrax work together like they’re militia trained. A psycho clown faces off against an Italian after. This was more to Harris’s liking, he even highfived the jock at one stage, when the clown spit his blood all over the Italians face. The main event started, one look at them and Harris knew he wanted to leave. He whispered something into the girls ear. She looked at him, then whispered something to her boyfriend. They both looked at him and Harris pulled something out of his pocket, discreetly showing them before hiding it.
“You guys know where we can party or what?”
We cut to back to the ’85 Chevy Camero. It’s no longer empty as Stevie Harris is now sitting in the front seat. Cigarette in hand, he’s taking a moment to compose. He leans into the glove box and pulls out a portable tape recorder, ready to record his thoughts. A slight banging can be heard in the background, Harris’s talking easily drowns it out.
“Spot. Spot Crack. The stars have aligned. You’re the first one up. It’s been a while so I might be a little rusty but you’ll get what’s coming to you all right. It’s nice that they’re letting me start with a dope fiend. If something bad happens to you, no one will care. That Eddie guy, he’ll be running fast to the next meth head he can convince to put a mask on. You’re his cash cow, he’ll probably put your mask on someone and pretend they’re you to the office. Can’t say I blame him, a disappointment like you is only good for one thing and your body is going to be too beaten and broken to even do that soon. Keep those eyes closed, it’s all going to be over soon. Spot Crack, I’m the hotshot you’ve been waiting your whole life for."
The ’85 Chevy pulls out. It was parked against the edge of the car park. If anyone bothers to walk back a few meters to where the trees begin, they’ll find the unconscious body of a young men, wearing a Doctor Powerful Incorporated shirt.
Read more: officialpurepro.boards.net/thread/37/show#ixzz45Cs5Jybx