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Subversion 27 Aftermath
Topic Started: Jul 11 2017, 01:43 AM (447 Views)
Riskodamous
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Catch up with the HKW superstars after SubVersion goes off the air only on Evolve! Watch as the action from SubVersion spews backstage after every show with comments from the HKW stars and officials. Maybe we'll even see a brawl break out!
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R I S K O I N T E R G A L A C T I C C H A M P I O N
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Chris Night

The scene opens backstage where the fight between Chris Night and Tristan Ambrose is still going on and it’s intensifying. Backstage staff try to separate the two but they just get pushed to the side. Tristan shoves an elbow into Chris’ gut and then grabs his head before he tries to slam it down onto the table next to them but Chris blocks it and then slams Tristan’s head down onto the table. Tristan stumbles back and Chris nails him with a superkick that knocks him down.

CHRIS NIGHT: Come on, Tristan! Let’s end this!

Chris goes to pick up Tristan, who’s now up on his knees and in a daze. Before Chris can pull him up all the way, the other two members of The Resistance, Gregor and Reid Anderson, appear on the scene. Gregor knocks Chris down and the two begin to stomp on him. Chris hits the larger Gregor with a low blow before throwing an elbow shot to Reid’s head but before he can do more, Tristan tackles him down. Tristan then grabs a chair but before he can use it, Jensen Banks and over a dozen of backstage staff appear on the scene.

JENSEN BANKS: Alright, alright! Break this crap up!

Chris is back up on his feet and and goes to charge The Resistance, who are being held back by several staff members, but two backstage officials grab Chris and stop him. Chris tries to fight out of it until he feels a third hand on his shoulder and he instantly knows who it is. He looks back and sees Bri and he instantly cools down and lets out a sigh.

JENSEN BANKS: Bri, get Chris out of here. I’ll handle everyone else.

Bri nods before grabbing Chris be his arm and pulling him in the opposite direction. Chris glares at Tristan and shakes his head as Tristan simply lets out an evil laugh. Chris turns and walks off with Bri as Jensen turns and tells the backstage staff to let The Resistance go and he talks to the group as the scene cuts out.
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X.A.D
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The scene opens with medical personnel checking on Isaiah Jones after his brutal encounter with the international charter of the Reapers In Pride. He was completely out of it didn’t know what happened to him as it felt as if he got ran over by a freight train. Running over were the two others for the Black Delegation trio Akeem Burrows and Xavier Asher Daniels.

AKEEM BURROWS: Oh no...Brother Jones! Brother Jones! What happened?! What the hell happened?! Who did this?!

Both Burrows and XAD shove the medics away as they look over Isaiah Jones’ broken body. Several emotions played out on both of their faces as they took it all in: Shock. Sadness. And finally, anger.

XAVIER ASHER DANIELS: Who… who did this…

Daniels looked up at the EMTs, rage overtaking him at the moment.

XAVIER ASHER DANIELS: Who did this!? Who has the nerve, the unmitigated GALL to lay their filthy, putrid hands upon our brother like this?! WHO!?

The medics backed off as Daniels takes a step towards them.

XAVIER ASHER DANIELS: SPEAK UP!

Burrows cracks his knuckles and looks at the paramedics with darkness and anger filling his eyes.

PARAMEDIC: Somebody said they seen some guys in some leather vest hopping on some motorcycles. That’s all we know! Now please, please just let us do our job. We are doing the best we can to make sure your friend will be okay!

Akeem nods and steps to the side. He looks over to Xavier with his hands balled up into fists.

AKEEM BURROWS: They have drawn they very last straw, brother. This injustice cannot continue! We can not allow for this mindless violence upon the innocent prevail anylonger!

He groans.

AKEEM BURROWS: As Allah as my witness, I will make sure the men who did this our brother pays for their crimes! Blood will...No SHALL be shed. Justice must be met for this.

Xavier placed a hand on Isaiah’s chest and closed his eyes for a moment.

XAVIER ASHER DANIELS: If we find who did this… no, no. WHEN we find the men who did this, I want them to tell us exactly what they did to my young brother.

XAVIER ASHER DANIELS: Then when we repay it onto them, onto every single ONE of them Brother Akeem? When they experience his pain and suffering ten fold? I want to ask them if their decision to turn us into enemies was worth it.

Xavier stands, and the EMTs tentatively help Isaiah onto a stretcher. The camera fades as the two remaining members of The Black Delegation follow after their fallen brother while he’s taken into an ambulance to be transported to a local medical facility.

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Tristan Ambrose
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Jensen leaves the area, done talking with Tristan and the rest of The Resistance, Tristan sees that his lip is starting to bleed, no doubt the first drop of blood in this war. Visibly angry at the loss, he didn't even care to who it was to, in his mind Chris Night screwed him out of the prospect of becoming the Lionheart Champion, that was money out of his pocket, money taken from him out of disrespect.

TRISTAN AMBROSE: Goddammit!

Tristan throws the chair at the wall, Gregor, Reid and Tyler all look around, wondering what their next orders will be. Tristan picks up the chair again, swinging it at the box that hauls equipment from show to show, which only succeeded in destroying the chair, and lessening Tristan's anger.

Turing back to the rest of the group, he turned back to the others. He knew what he wanted from them..

TRISTAN AMBROSE: Since singles gold seems to be out of the picture until this business with Chris is done, Gregor.. Reid.. I want you on a warpath.. BRING ME THE TAG TEAM TITLES! THAT IS WHAT I WANT FROM YOU TWO... But.. for now.. Tyler, for your failure to become the number one contender for the Global Championship, It seems like I am going to have to teach you a lesson. Please... don't make me have to do this again...

He gives Tyler a hug before he quickly gives Gregor and Reid a look, before walking away from them, with them both looking at Tyler as the cameras fade.
Edited by Tristan Ambrose, Jul 12 2017, 03:49 PM.
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Tristan Martinez
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After what had been an exhilarating night of jam-packed action, ending with what was a great Subversion Main Event that featured Tristan Ambrose for a portion, Ashley Marie Chase and the newly crowned Number One Contender to the Lionheart Championship. Coming through the double doors backstage, a heavily-wet covered towel covered portion of Martinez’s head as he was looking to cool down after that battle. Beaming with that white-toothed smile of his, things were looking up for him once again.

GNARLS ROBINSON: Tr-Tristan? Can I get a minute of your time, big man?

Tristan, although exhausted and for what many may have declined, Tristan accepted and slowly dragged himself over to Gnarls for a moment. Tristan kept his smile.

GNARLS ROBINSON: What’s good man? Life is good right now for you isn’t it? Just got through with putting on a hell of a main event that came down to you and Ashley. You in the end stood tall and now you have a date with the “Gifted One”, DeMarcus Gresham.

Tristan, wiping his face with the drenched towel, nodded to all of what was said by Gnarls as he held the mic over so Tristan could speak.

TRISTAN MARTINEZ: Si! Si! Life is VERY good! I’ve earned a night with the Lionheart Champion and I’m looking to take his best shot. He has a very unique style to him, I respect his work. Not many do, but I do. Ashley, thank you for giving me a great battle out there tonight. You almost had me but that split second opening changed everything.

Tristan took a moment to breathe as he again proceeded to wipe the oncoming sweat from his face and eyes.

GNARLS ROBINSON: You continue to show many why you were a former two-time RISE Champion. What do you give yourself as far as odds go against the Champion.

Tristan pondered for a moment before choosing to reply.

TRISTAN MARTINEZ: I just want all those doubters to continue their support because even though my fans are a blessing, those doubters, they add that extra boost to prove them wrong. The odds and lines, I’m no betting man. All I know is that I’m going to look forward to making Gresham sweat. Words, they never hurt. Actions however do! DeMarcus, it’s going to be an ho--

Pausing mid-word, Tristan looked at Gnarls as his eyes were no longer on him. Feeling that presence on his shoulders, Tristan turned and there stood DeMarcus Gresham with that Lionheart Championship over his shoulder, looking down at his opponent with a confident smirk. Tristan eyes wavered from the eye contact and transferred to the title on his shoulders, pointing at it. Gnarls seeing from how things went earlier when he and Gresham met, he took a step back.

DEMARCUS GRESHAM: Words never hurt yet here you are hurling your cluster of them as if they matter or make change to your future. You stand here and admit defeat and we’ve yet to even engage in the fray. Looking to prove doubters wrong? Attempt to make me sweat?...dear inferior the humidity of this iniquitous city has already done its fair share in that. I implore you strive for more. My words have never had the intention to hurt, destroy, or malign. My words are the tools to open minds. To bring light to the darker and less used percentage of the brain. Although most cannot be saved there are the chosen gifted few. My actions...solidify and further mount the facts and truths I regularly gift to all of you. Alas, minds remain ignorant but it's far from blissful.

He looks down toward Gnarls and then at Tristan rolling his shoulders and turning his previous darker expression into a half smile.

DEMARCUS GRESHAM: But where are my manners, this man proved today he’s a real virtuoso in the ring. Many congrats and thus reason to celebrate, we have our Number One Contender. But as you stand before all that is greater do you young Martinez...still hold that heart of a Lion?

Tristan just smirked at the Champion’s question. A question that was previously asked a couple days ago over social media. Martinez just remained there, looking up to the Champ, his eyes narrowing as he sniffed.

TRISTAN MARTINEZ: From what I know Lions live in a constant state of fear. Why would I have the heart of something that holds fear? I come from a family who at any time, any place, any moment when given can become a reckless soul. I came up with a very strong mind, like yourself. I have my flaws but fearing is not one of those. I have the heart of a...Warrior. No matter how many times I may get knocked down, I get up, I annoy you because I don’t stay down and deep down, that will mess with you.

TRISTAN MARTINEZ: Appreciate you congratulating me DeMarcus, but I’m ready to take on the next challenge. That being you ... all of “The Gifted One”. If I wasn’t ready to be in this spotlight I stand in right now, I’d stuck to completing my career path out of College but no, I couldn’t. Wrestling is in my blood. It’s contents is thick. I can’t just ignore the past of what my Father and Grandfather laid down. I’m the next in line to complete my legacy. You will be a part of my legacy.

The sentiment changes greatly with that reply. The previously humored Champion now turns his head to the side in an analytical way. The snarl on his face is the only given hint that he is no longer amused.

DEMARCUS GRESHAM: The only fear the Lion can hold is if he’s threatened. Otherwise, what fear is one to have? I asked this question not for a history lesson on your less than adequate family. I did in fact wanted to know what you feel you heart holds. Warrior…

DeMarcus ‘pssh’s’ and waves at the notion.

DEMARCUS GRESHAM: ...as a many of those have died in battle never to be spoken of again. Never even given a second thought. Even the most diligent and hard pressed can smash into the wall unable to be recognized leaving only their identification as to who they once were. You believe you are ready for this spotlight, as you should. Yet, it does not mean you are for I am not one of your...RISE cohorts. Nor one of your jejune peers. But you are correct, I will be a part of your legacy. The tale you’ll wish to forget. The experience you’ll pray to have expunged from record.

His finger rises up in the air in a second thought.

DEMARCUS GRESHAM: No...no no no. Better yet, I will be the part of your legacy you’ll use to bolster and begin anew. I will be your awakening and enlightenment. You’ll attempt to dust yourself off and speak as a Warrior of note. Meanwhile, in truth and light you are one of the many markless gravestones the greatest Lionheart champion ever will mount his legacy upon. We shall call you number one. Nameless, inconsequential, yet necessary as every Champion must mark his successes. Therefore you do serve purpose, for as the currents say…

Everyone remembers their first. Welcome to the true elite young despondent. I will Gift you well.

His snarl transcends back into his deadpanned expression as he examines Tristan for a few seconds longer before looking toward Gnarls and a ‘hmm’ leaves him. Gresham stares back at Tristan and picks up the Lionheart belt along his shoulder saying nothing but allowing the belt to gleam at him under the lights before turning on his heel and walking away.
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Brian Stryker

Brian Stryker is seeing leaving the garage of the Arena. Everything that happened tonight with Tommy Evans and TCB still fresh as he tosses his bag into the back of his rental car. The camera stops him as he turned around and sighed heavily. He turns and faces the camera, leaning his arm on the drivers door.

BRIAN STRYKER: Yeah?

CAMERAMAN: Why did you give Tommy Evans a rematch?

BRIAN STRYKER: Because I don't need help to win. TCB decided to involve herself in my business and I don't take kindly to that. That greatest bloodlust to third? Yeah total bullshit as well.

CAMERAMAN: Well she did have a long reign.

BRIAN STRYKER: So? I've seen sh*beep* champions have long reigns. Better champs don't brag bout the reign. They let it speak for themselves.

CAMERAMAN: So what's the plan going forward?

BRIAN STRYKER: Win next Subversion, move to the next opportunity. Beth Keaton may have gotten the number one contender spot for the global. Doesn't mean, I'm not gonna keep my name in that conversation somehow. Now if you excuse me.

Brian climbed into his rental and turned the engine over as he pulled out of the garage into the night.
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Silver Eagle
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Backstage after the show, Hunter Werth is walking down the hallway with his duffle bag over his shoulder. As he walks he waves to fans that have made it backstage after the show with their VIP passes. A few fans hand him Dark Horse Protection business cards and T-Shirts and he signs them before posing for pictures with them. Once he’s made it past the “VIP section” he heads down the last hallway towards the parking garage.

On up ahead of him, from a different hallway, Lady Magdalena turns around a corner. She stops as she missteps and holds herself up by the wall for a second. Hunter stops dead in his tracks. She hasn’t seen him yet and he’d rather she didn’t after what happened last week. He had tried his best to be a friend to her when she needed a friend and it only got him slapped for it. She stood with her head down braced against the wall. Hunter knew this was the only way to the parking garage and to his rental car. He waited a few minutes and she just stayed where she was before leaning with both arms against the wall.

Hunter saw his opportunity and went for it moving to the opposite side of the hall. He picked up speed walking down the hallway hoping to get past her when she leaned off the wall turning towards the middle of the hallway and seeing Hunter across who stopped dead in his tracks. Hunter’s eyes went wide and he waited, trying to decide what to do. She looked uneasy and Hunter for a second forgot about last week taking a step towards her.

HUNTER WERTH: Are you okay Lady? Something seems off.

He heard a laugh, a cackle, shades of a hiccup as she swayed by the wall, using an open palm to steady herself. Her eyes were somewhat glossy, eyeliner slightly smudged and the fact she was not in one of her extravagant gowns was a tell tale sign. Instead, she wore luxurious trousers, slightly torn at the knee and a zipped jacket that may have been used to give her some form of disguise, but that was for nought now. Her curls were long and free, slightly wild like her gaze and she cackled once.

LADY MAGDALENA: W-well look who it is again. My knight in shining armour.

She slurred her words, seemingly intoxicated as she batted a hand in an attempted authoritative manner.

LADY MAGDALENA: Sir Internet Darling… Fetch me wine.

She chuckled before she rolled her eyes and grimaced, tutting under her breath.

LADY MAGDALENA: You. Hunter Werth, an award winner. Darling of the Internet. Oh, hows the plebeians so love the downtrodden and nameless. It’s so, so hilarious. Y-you, coming from nothing, having nothing, being just a-bout nothing and woop! Award winner. They expect nothing from you and give you an award for it. Bravo, bravo.

She mockingly applauded, almost stumbling once more as she took a step forward, uneasy on those gigantic heels of hers

LADY MAGDALENA: Bring the applause, plebeians. Bring the applause.

She attempted to applaud once more but tripped, slipped backwards onto her ample behind as she cracked her head upon the wall. She let out a slight whimper, tutting under breath once more, as she fumbled with her hand bag, pulling out a cigarette and a lighter, but the zippo slipped out of her hand to the floor as she cursed under her breath in her native tongue.

LADY MAGDALENA: And yet I have the expectations of the world on my shoulders and nothing in my hands. Ugh.

Hunter sees as a small hint of red adorns the wall behind Lady’s head on the wall. He takes a step forward, worried as to how badly she had possibly injured herself in her fall. But a sudden thought of the slap two weeks ago, and all she had just said to him entered his mind. He stopped in his tracks. He shook his head before he picked up his bag and took a few steps towards the door. He muttered to himself.

HUNTER WERTH: She’s NOT your problem Hunter. She doesn’t want your help, you already know that…



Fuck!

Hunter drops his bag turning around and walking over to her. He picks up her lighter and flicks the bic open untils he has lit her cigarette. He pulls her head away from the wall, ever so slightly. He examines it as there is a small blood flow down her hair, but the wound was already clotting. He clicked his tongue.

HUNTER WERTH: You hit your head pretty hard Lady. It doesn’t look too bad, but you seem in rough shape. Let me take you to the EMTs huh? Make sure you’re okay. Then the annoying short man will leave you alone like he wanted to all along. Huh?

He looks at her as she puffs her cigarette, squinting up into his eyes as she puffs on it.

HUNTER WERTH: That’s it. Then I’m gone, I won’t bug you any longer. I just want to make sure you’re okay. Alright?

LADY MAGDALENA: I-it’s so easy for you. Likes of you. Nobody ex...expects anything from you. You win, they cheer. You lose, it happens. Yo--You continue on like it is life, pick yourself up and tumble on. Respectfulish? I have never had such a luxury. My name, my reputation. Blast it all…

She takes another long inhale of the cigarette swaying side to side as she does so.

LADY MAGDALENA: Why do people like you?

She squinted her eyes, very clearly intoxicated beyond measure as she swayed, looking at Hunter with vacant eyes.

LADY MAGDALENA: I-I’m sorry. That was quite… quite rude. I s-slapped you once too, that was… mean. ‘Meanie’ my daughter would say. S-she gets cheered too. She’s my pride… Y-you’re wearing glasses?.

She shook her head, doubting herself as she raised an apologetic hand. She seemed sincere in her drunken state, generally meaning every word as she stared up at her reluctant audience.

LADY MAGDALENA: I was cheered once. I remember clear as *hic* day. Ascending a ladder and taking a title belt five others c-couldn’t attain. Oh, the fanfare was so marvellous. And then it was gone. Poof… Never to return.

She mouths the word ‘poof’ some more as she disappears into a dreamlike state, giggling at the term as if she was someone else entirely. The giggling stops as she takes another inhale on her cigarette. She looked down to her feet, attempting to slide off those endless high heels of hers as she sat like a child upon the floor.

LADY MAGDALENA: Now I follow the sage like wisdom I am given and it has left me in ashes. Ashes. I give my all, ashes. I push myself, ashes. I chase a dream for an entire year, ashes. Just ashes upon ashes. All this pressure, all this advice, all this effort, all this everything and… ashes. I achieve these impossible expectations and I get silence. I do not, silence. No one disturbs me for an autograph, an award, a positive comment. Just silence. And you… you get all of that and… y-you *hic* you look like a small child.

She cackles, that wicked witch’s cackle of hers full of malice and ill intentions, but it dissipates suddenly, a tear in her eye as she becomes all apologetic again.

LADY MAGDALENA: I don’t m-mean-- I don’t mean to be a bitch. Please, help me up.

He does so, very carefully guided her up by the hand as she stumbles, scooping up her shoes. She takes a few steps forward, that Parisian swagger appearing again for the merest of moments as she breaks into song.

LADY MAGDALENA: I’m the Goddess of tits and wine.

She pauses, her back to Hunter, turning slightly as she looks at him with such sorrow and regret.

LADY MAGDALENA: I don’t want it to be this way.

She tripped again, almost smashing her face into the wall, if it wasn’t for Hunter grabbing her arm unexpectedly. She stared at him, leaning back, part confused and part bemused.

LADY MAGDALENA: Why?

HUNTER WERTH: It’s the right thing to do.

Hunter looked serious, a slight look of annoyance on his face as he guided the intoxicated Black Swan down the halls, pointing towards the medical office.

LADY MAGDALENA: You… You’re not g-going to tell any jokes, are you? Your sense of h-humour is horrific.

HUNTER WERTH: Lady, please just be quiet.

He continues to lead her down the hall, knocking on the door, as medical personnel open the door, immediately seeing the drunken and distraught state of the former Hybrid Champion. Thy guid her into the room as Hunter merely shakes his head and leaves. Lady looks as he does, squinting slightly, seemingly confused by his behaviour. She suddenly then goes pale.

LADY MAGDALENA: Sick--I’m going to…

And with that the camera fades to black.
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