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Post by The BombTrax on Oct 1, 2016 5:22:06 GMT
One (1) Role Play Max
Final Role Play Deadline: Wednesday October 12th, 2016 @ 10:59 PM CST
Segment/Match Deadline: Wednesday October 12th, 2016 @ 11:59 PM CST
Opening Bout Singles Match (Special SE7EN Deadly Sins Preview) Black Jack Colter versus Cross Recoba |
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Post by Black Jack on Oct 13, 2016 3:53:00 GMT
Traffic was at a standstill with no movement in sight. Jack expected nothing less on the Las Vegas Strip. However, even amidst the sights and sounds of Vegas, Jack caught himself checking his side mirrors every time someone passed behind the vehicle. Sure, back in the day Jack had been escorted out of a casino or two for card-counting, but those days were gone. Nowadays he wouldn't even be recognized in this town. It had been over three years since he was in the headlines for the crash that ended Frank Galloway's life in Las Vegas and longer still since he actively competed on the Vegas circuit.
Even in those days, Jack and his co-conspirator Frank were small-time in the grand scheme of things, instead deferring to take small pots over time. Jack was usually smart enough to walk away from the table before any curious arose. And Frank, well, not so much. Jack remembered telling his partner on more than one occasion, "If there's one thing you don't want at a casino, it's management's undivided attention." Showmanship was a no-go. That's why Jack always wore black. To blend into the crowd. To become a ghost.
It went against everything Vegas stood for - the bright lights, the theater, the fanfare. Frank often marveled at how it was that Jack ever made the transition to professional wrestling with his no-frills mentality. But Jack always saw it as an advantage, having a one track mind. He had a kind of stubborn focus that led him to accomplishing his goals, even if that focus had been fractured as of late.
The trip was Vegas was meant as a way to break that cycle. A true test of his resolve. A package of cash sat on the passenger's seat, but Jack hadn't even looked at it. After all, he didn't need to gamble to help pay for his goddaughter's tuition anymore. He'd gained some traction in PAW and those paychecks wouldn't be running away any time soon.
Deep inside, he knew he had the resolve to stay away. The sobriety token he always kept in his breast pocket was proof enough.
This trip had become more of a vacation at this point, away from Bobby Franchise's lectures and the inanity of twitter.
Despite this technological blackout, he'd been made aware of PAW's newest signing. That walking, talking T-shirt Amis FN Shelton had signed on the dotted line. A curious reminder of the last time he was after his former manager Charlie Abernathy and instead decided to go after gold.
He couldn't decide if the world was reaffirming that choice or mocking him. He didn't care to think too long and hard on it, because it was clearer now than ever before that he'd need a to be completely focused to achieve that goal in PAW at Seven Deadly Sins. These past few months in particular had Jack second guessing himself, but there was little to consider now. The choice was made inside that ring at Addiction when Jack discovered he was still desperate to etch his name in PAW history. Anastasia Hayden had given him the dogfight he hadn't had in quite some time and he'd reacted in congruence with that reality. When Hayen incapacitated the referee, there was no hesitation in Jack's mind. He leapt out of the ring and plucked a barbed wire bat from under the apron.
There was no blackout to blame this on. This was a conscious choice.
In the end, he didn't need the barbed wire bat, but he needed that type of decision making, because a single moment of lost focus would mean certain failure in a ladder match in which he'd need to keep his eyes on six other competitors. He'd need that fire at Seven Deadly Sins if he had any hope of walking away with the PAW Heavyweight Championship. Something about that thrilled and frightened him at once.
No more distractions.
The line of traffic finally began to move and Jack sped away from the Strip without looking back.
Later that day, Jack found himself outside of the Sands Hotel. The engine was left running on the vehicle as Jack stared at all the activity from the tourists at the front entrance.
"It never ceases to amaze me how many people want to visit this hellhole of a town. Worse still, the people who want to work here. Normally only two types of people who reach the upper echelon in your business, Cross Recoba. The born-rich and their yes men. There's not much of a difference, to be fair. Either party is sucking on someone's teat for their meal.
That's where I can't make heads or tails of you, Recoba. From what I understand, you come from nothing but you don't strike me as a sycophant either. You're much too busy stroking your ego to stroke anyone else's. So how exactly did you get into this line of work?
It can't be that you actually like this town. Perhaps you just love watching lives being ruined from a distance. Las Vegas has a way of chewing people up and spitting them out. Because the house always wins here, doesn't it? It's a sleazy state altogether, Nevada. I suppose any state with legal gambling and prostitution would be. It's a small wonder professional wrestling hasn't taken off here."
Jack suddenly turned the ignition off on the car and rolled down the window.
"Las Vegas is a city you and I both call home, but we're talking different towns altogether, aren't we, Cross? I come from the seedy underbelly of Vegas and you're part of the... well, even seedier upper crust.
That's why it didn't surprise me when you did what you did on Wicked two weeks ago. Others might look at you and see an affable business man, but I look at you and see you've got those Robert Durst dead eyes. The lifeless eyes of a sociopath.
That's probably why you didn't blink when tasked with fighting your girl in your Seven Deadly Sins qualifying match. You didn't think twice about it. That's one thing I can respect about you as a competitor, Cross. You made it clear that you're looking out for number one in that match. No compromises. Jesus, you picked Kelsey's shoulder apart in order to secure the win."
Jack shook his head with a grimace.
"That must have made for an awkward dinner. Did you at least chop her steak up like a gentleman while she ate one-armed?
Jack laughed as he twirls the key ring over his index finger.
"Anything for the win, right? Anything to get you into the Heavyweight title match. Well, you got what you wanted, Recoba. Unfortunately for you, this week is another story. I am no free winner's payday as you'd like to suggest. See, Anastasia Hayden made that same assumption and she paid dearly for it. I'd recommend you do your homework before simply ascribing me to be some joke. The funny thing is that when you lose to someone you purport to be a joke, you become the punchline. I'm not here to be anyone's free W.
At Wicked, you'll be stepping into the ring for a fight, not some lovers' quarrel like you had two weeks ago. You can't plant a seed of doubt in my head as you did with Kelsey Spencer. I'd only return the favor in kind by planting a boot through your skull. And what a shame it'd be to ruin your perfectly coiffed hair. I suspect only Mikael takes more time in the mirror applying product, even if the same outcome could be accomplished by sitting under a bird's nest.
But let's not get too far off topic. You, Cross, are the only person standing between me rolling into Seven Deadly Sins on a five-match winning streak. I'm a gambler, so momentum is a very important thing to me. Breaking that momentum would be most unfortunate.
Are you a gambler, Cross, or do you just accept money from them? Because you may be gambling with your future here. Think about it. You've already qualified for the ladder match at Seven Deadly Sins and I'm betting you saw what I was willing to do to get there too. Self-preservation would be a wise choice. You wouldn't want to lose the Heavyweight title shot that you've worked so hard for, would you? Anything to stay in that Heavyweight title match.
Or would you instead like to test your hand and put it all on the line for an opening match on Wicked? Keep in mind, joker's wild."
With a mocking smile, Colter turned the ignition once more and sped off into the night.
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