It's time for the Belt to come home... where it belongs.
Jul 1, 2023 22:58:14 GMT -5
Jim Caedus likes this
Post by TheNewBreed on Jul 1, 2023 22:58:14 GMT -5
Sunday, March 26th, 2023 – Jacksonville, FL : Memorial Hospital, Private Wing.
11:37pm
11:37pm
Darina Weiman: “Look, Doc... I ain't too sure exactly what all of those words mean to be honest. I can do a lot of things, but I ain't been to Med School. I can even handle field trauma... but I know for a fact that the entirety of what I know wouldn't have saved John out on that tarmac this morning.”
The Doctor sighs a heavy, tired sigh and sits in a chair off to one side of the brightly lit hallway and motions for Darina to join him as he wraps his stethoscope around the back of his neck. His eyes are weary and bloodshot.
Doctor: “Ms. Weiman, what I am trying to explain to you is that Johnathan's survival today... well... honestly without that... the... um... whatever that thing is... we probably wouldn't have been able to save him here either. The fact that he's in stable condition at all after what he went through is nothing short of a miracle. I'm not ashamed to admit it to you... we lost him four times on that table... and I don't kid myself into thinking it was my experience that saved him either.”
The doctor rests his face in his hands as he pulls his elbows up to his knees and bends into the pose. He rubs his face vigorously with his palms, awe and exhaustion sharing the space in his eyes in the moment as he looks back up at her.
Darina Weiman: “So... yeah. R2-IDEA has been a great help to John recently. It's like his own little guardian angel... but... seriously, when he wakes up all he's gonna wanna know is how long it's gonna take to get ring ready again. So... honestly... how long do you think recovery is gonna take?”
She looks at him in all seriousness. The Doctor shakes his head and looks down the hallway one direction, then the other before laughing a short, snorting laugh.
Darina Weiman: “What's funny?”
The Doctor chokes the laugh down hearing the tone in her voice shift from concern and inquiry to a threatening one in an instant. Darina stiffens slightly, and rounds her footing more to the left of the chair, shifting her balance to the balls of her feet instead of sitting.
Doctor: “You must be joking, right? With the multitude of fractures and the blood loss alone we would be looking at months of down time before we could even begin the physical therapy needed to regain normal functions, let alone the concussions, the muscle damage, the bruising of the many bones and micro fractures we most likely haven't even found yet... and you're asking about him being ring ready, of all things? That might not even BE a reality for him anymore. People don't just come back from injuries like these and go back the next week to jump into the gladiator pits for God's sake!”
Darina stands up slowly from the line of chairs and the doctor's side, her lips parting slightly in a sly little smile as she hears him spout his misunderstandings at her.
Darina Weiman: “Doc... You don't know Johnathan Cable. It might not be weeks... but it won't be months either. Get a team together to figure out the therapy he's going to need and consult with R2 about the scans and tests you need done. That little droid can probably get your results back way faster than your lab can and his sensors are better than most of the equipment in this entire building. Cost is not an issue, obviously. I'll stop by the Director's office tomorrow with a research donation that will ensure your ability to focus your undivided attention for as long as it takes to get John ring ready again. It's going to be all he wants to do until he climbs back inside those ropes again... and I'm not about to be the one to tell him he can't.”
She smiles at him again as she turns to walk away. Her boots thud on the tiled floor loudly as she looks back over her shoulder.
Darina Weiman: “You got a lot of work to do Doc. Get some rest and be ready tomorrow to work on what we do from here. And... for what it's worth... Thanks Doc. You saved a good one. We appreciate it.”
She smiles at him as the elevator door slides open in front of her and she disappears through the metal doors as the scene fades to black.
* * * * *
Monday, March 27th, 2023 – Jacksonville, FL : New Breed Headquarters
6:30am
6:30am
Citizen: “What do you mean by that exactly? I've never in my life known you to be scared of anything. Why does R2 give you the heebie geebies? Hell... the thing just saved John's life, not to mention the entire flight staff of NBF1 and the crew at the hangar.”
Citizen asks, genuinely curious as he turns from his paperwork to look at Darina sitting in the overstuffed, faded brown leather chair nearest to his desk. He could tell she was not her usual self. Her left arm wrapped around the front of her, and if Citizen knew any better, he would say that Darina wasn't just afraid of the droid... She was terrified of it. The shock of seeing her scared of anything stunned him for a moment before he tossed his papers on the desk and took a seat in the chair next to hers, paying full attention to her now, knowing she doesn't get scared like this over nothing.
Darina Weiman: “Aaron... seriously... that thing killed four armed men last night, and... and I saw... I saw the bodies, Aaron. I saw what it did to them! There were parts... and the splatters... it was... it was like I was back in the jungle for fuck sake. R2 ripped those men apart from the insides... it... it tore them apart, Aaron!”
She shuddered as she thought back to the runway.
Darina Weiman: “The blood was everywhere. The tarmac... the car... the plane... God the plane! I mean, look... I know I don't have the cleanest hands myself... but what that thing did to those men... it's nothing like I've ever seen before. It's savage... and brutal... and it just... just... It doesn't even care. It was just chattering at me as we swept the scene and answered the Detective's questions about what it had done like it was a normal fucking day at the park!”
She finally broke as the emotions welled up inside of her. Citizen stood up as she went to get up and caught her on wobbly legs. She fell into his arms and slumped against his chest as she sobbed. He held her there... just letting her get it out and have her moment as he stood there, supporting her against him.
After a long few minutes, she finally stifled the tears, and sniffed and snuffled herself together once more, she looked up at the masked face of the Citizen, his stars and bars eagle lined in golden threads shimmering.
Darina Weiman: “Sorry... I got a little snot on your jacket there.”
She giggles nervously as Citizen chuckles with her as he lets her go slowly to stand on her own and draws the dark grey kerchief from his pocket.
Citizen: “Don't worry about it. I'll charge John's account for the dry cleaning, and probably have him buy me a new one anyway. I'll deserve it after this mess, I think.”
He jokes as they both giggle at their situation to lighten the mood.
Citizen: “I understand how you feel, Darina, I do... but to be honest, as a droid, I can't imagine R2 being able to feel ANYTHING about what happened. Its job is to protect the timeline, and John is the key to that as far as IDEA is concerned. It followed its protocol to make sure that the future timeline is secured. Thankfully, that means that John's as safe as he's ever been, I guess... but it does raise a lot of questions that need to be addressed, and soon.. When do we expect to get the footage from the hangar cleared and get a chance to take a look at what actually happened?”
Citizen asks to change the subject slightly, and try to get her talking about work again as he pours two small tumblers full of scotch from a crystal decanter on a nearby cherry-wood table, and hands one to her.
Darina Weiman: “That's the thing... we won't be getting any footage from the hangar. R2 wiped it all when he popped in as part of whatever protocol it called the thing it engaged. It said something about ensuring there was no evidence of its time loop so as to not lead anyone to information about the timeline that could jeopardize the mission. There isn't any footage. All the cameras at the entire airport are scrambled, and Homeland Security has been running around like maniacs all day trying to figure out what to do with the systems down. Lock Down gave them a great deal on replacement equipment... can't really beat free after all... but it's gonna take a few weeks to get all of that tech replaced. Until then, there's no cameras... no audio... no nothing. It's all guard work for a while. We sent some non essentials from our Atlanta office to bolster the boots on the ground, but I don't know if that's going to be enough. I'll see what I can do about getting some more guys over there later today. I can probably pull up from south Florida, and maybe a few of the guys in Louisiana might come over. I'll make sure it gets handled anyway... but what do we do about R2 in the meantime?”
Citizen slides his mask up over his nose and takes a slow sip of the scotch in his glass as he walks towards the windows overlooking downtown Jacksonville.
Citizen: “Realistically... What CAN we do about it? It's a time traveling death machine with more knowledge than half the libraries on the planet and a functional knowledge of more fields of study than I can get a degree in in my entire lifetime. On the bright side... its entire reason to exist is to make sure John fulfills his life's potential, and ensures a better future for the world... right?”
Citizen turns to look at her as he asks, fear creeping into his words now as he speaks them.
Darina Weiman: “Yeah... I guess there's that.”
She laughs nervously and gulps down her scotch in one toss as the scene fades to black.
* * * * *
Vaughn... you have something that belongs to me.
I know a lot of people have been claiming that lately... Hell, a lot of people have been saying a lot of things around here in my absence.
A bunch of tongues are wagging... a bunch of words are spilling from lips that have no concept of what that Title weighs or what it means.
A bunch of fools are talking a ton of shit and writing checks they know damned well their asses can't cash... and some of them are even flirting with their own fates invoking the name of the Beast without actually speaking to me but instead flaunting my glory for their own gains while they think I'm off in some Hospital.
Clout chasers and coat tail riders... the lot of them.
Side note... if you think it's about you... then it probably is. Do something.
Seriously though, Peter... while there's a bunch of guys in the locker room and on the interwebs who are willing to promote the fight and bring the hype to the promotion... there's only one guy who has coasted to the Title and made a name for himself since Relaunch by making damned sure he's never found himself in a ring across from me where there wasn't a pile of bodies between us, and that's YOU, Champ.
It's isn't the only time your base opportunistic nature has saved you the embarrassment of losing that Title though, is it? I mean sure... you got that Title because Ol' Freddy Boy... your buddy... made damned sure I wouldn't cause you a problem after I eliminated his chance at the Belt.
It wasn't just then either, was it?
Oh no... not even close.
Since then, you've made damned sure to extol to the world at large how you ARE the once and future KING... the WGWF Word Heavyweight Champion... but you tout that Title around the globe... flaunting your reign in the faces of rosters from across the world... win lose or draw... right? Every dirty trick in the book whatever it takes, any means necessary... especially if you can keep defending the Title off the table all together, right, Strader?
You go off on Twitter to promote your fights and your challenges across the world... you tell everyone how many Titles you've collected since stumbling your way into the industry, and how great you are in the ring, and yet... not a peep about our fight, huh?
Not a word about what may be your most dangerous threat to your Title run thus far, but you got plenty of time for marketing that Junkyard Match, right?
Well, Petey... in my mind... either that means you don't want to draw attention to the danger you find yourself in... or you don't think I'm the challenge you deserve.
Which is it?
See... of all the loose lips running around the WGWF recently... I find it funny that this entire time... you've made it a point NOT to say a sideways words about me... at least where I can hear you... and I noticed.
You have gone out of your way, even with everything going on since Relaunch, to keep your head down and stay out of my way... and it has really done great things for your tenure as the WGWF World Heavyweight Champion so far.
No really. It has.
When Sonya Benson started her shit with me right after Relaunch, you saw that as a blessing in disguise, right? My attention was diverted to a greater evil... divested of my focus and distracted by the vile bitch's antics... and luckily, it kept you safe in the early days.
Then when the shit really hit the fan, you made every effort to let Freddy take the bullet for you and it was him who ended up being the CCPE's sacrifice to the Beast for their transgressions against me and my partners.
You thought that he could take care of business and take care of the one true threat you knew was coming one day... but he failed, Pete. He went even lower than anyone expected him to go and tried to have me put down... but I survived, Vaughn. And now... no where is safe for you.
You managed to slink away with the Title at the West Coast Rumble, and since then you have held it over your opponents heads and screamed out to the world about the glory of the Title you hold... but you've let it flounder and tarnish in the drought of defenses you've failed to racked up since then, and the Title... once one of the most prestigious Belts in wrestling... is now just a bauble you drag through the mud behind you in disgrace.
A real Champion would defend the Title... even when you know you might lose it.
That's the challenge of holding that Title, Pete. You're always the target of the best wrestlers in the World, and while your run with that Belt has been an easy one... out there in the distance... the horizon just darkened... and new challengers have lined up around the block to take a crack at the Title you're keeping warm for me.
They're all looking forward to their day in the spotlight when they get to face off against Peter Vaughn for their shot at the glory too... but unlike every single other person who has faced you for THAT Title thus far and every single person slobbering to get their hands on you right now... I actually know what weight it carries... I actually know what it means to be the WGWF World Heavyweight Champion...
Of all the opponents you HAVE defended that Belt against... I'm the ONLY one who know what it's like to wear that Title Vaughn... I know what it's like to come out of that curtain carrying that ten pounds of history in my hand. I know what it's like to hear my name announced as the WGWF World Heavyweight Champion... I know what it feels like to BE the WGWF Champ, Pete...
I know what you feel like every time you walk out of that curtain with that Belt in your hands... and I know how bad I want to feel it again. I know how much that Title means to me... how much more it means to me than any one else you have ever defended it against...
But unlike you, I also know what it feels like to LOSE that Belt... and how hungry it makes you to get it back. I know the despair of losing THAT Title, Peter... and there is little in the world to compare to it, even with all of our tragedies... with all of our former accolades... with all of our past glories and defeats... losing THAT Title leave a hole in your soul, Peter.
Sure... you've lost Belts. You lost loved ones and you've suffered a lifetime of grief. You can even compare them all if you want... but you have no idea what THAT Title feels like to let slip through your fingers... what it feels like to have everything... and then nothing in moments... like I do...
But you will, Vaughn. You will.
You see, sprinkled into your illustrious career... in and among all the wonderful wins and exuberant celebrations, there are holes in your armor... men and women who found the chinks and soft spots in your plating, and made you eat your words... made you contemplate your cocky overbearing arrogance and truly humbled you in moments of your career when you were just burning to sail off into the sun and claim your legacy... and on Monday night... I'm going to add my name to the list of Superstars who have derailed your glory train and left you in a crumpled mess in front of the entire world.
There is no other option for me here, Pete, and your fate was sealed when Flash Rotten signed the card and approved the marquee.
Johnathan Cable Versus Peter Vaughn
You can deny the situation we're both in if you want to... but it's a dangerous game we play when we make assumptions... and with the current political atmosphere of the WGWF the Donkey jokes write themselves... but we all know who the jackass here is, don't we, Pete?
The fact is... no matter what you or anyone else thinks... it's MY Belt, Peter... It always has been... and whether I expected the opportunity on BRAWL to take it back or not... I've got it now... and there's not a chance in Hell I'm going to let this slip away from me again. It took you a ring full of people and a gang at your side to stop me from tearing you apart before and claiming my rightful reign... and now you're all alone in there with me... hoping beyond hope I make a mistake... any opening... any chance to retain... but you're at a disadvantage here, Pete.
My life is inside this ring. I eat, breathe, and live this industry, Peter. For almost 40 years I've been facing the world's best fighters and honing my skills in there. I've spent my life forging myself into the perfect combatant. There isn't a style or form I haven't seen, unraveled, and conquered while you just happened to be in the right place without safety protocol or common sense, and suddenly, you were a Superstar.
It's a great story kid... it is... but here on the darker side of reality... you don't have it in you to keep me from becoming the WGWF Champion for the third time. Not alone... not on your best day... not on my worst... and damned sure not on Monday Night BRAWL when I toss the biggest monkey wrench you've ever seen right into the gears of the WGWF and end up the defending WGWF World Heavyweight Champion in a four way dance at Summer Madness.
There isn't a single multiversal reality that exists out there anywhere where you walk out of New York as the WGWF Champion, Vaughn. You can say I'm not a threat... you can challenge my right to the Belt... you scream about the outcome till you're blue in the face... you can lie, cheat, and steal your way through the match if you want to... but on Monday Night, Peter Vaughn... there is no escape. There is no other fate. There is only my claim to MY Title... and the start of the new Era of the Modern WGWF.
I'm not just going to take away the Title here, Vaughn. I am going to shake the very foundations of what this industry is on Monday Night. I already knocked down the castle of the Kingdom, and when the dust settles in Buffalo, I'm going to show the World what that Title deserves... a Champion who won't back down from a challenge... who won't shirk the chance to prove why I carry the Title against the best in the world... who will show the fans of the WGWF a Champion they can truly be proud of.
* * * * *
Friday, March 31st, 2023 – Jacksonville, FL : Memorial Hospital, Private Wing.
11:28pm
11:28pm
Beep............ Beep........... Beep.........
The sound of the heart monitor trilled like a metronome. Steady... rhythmic... even.
There, resting quietly in a cocoon of bandages and gauze, lay Johnathan Cable. It's hard to tell with his face shrouded in fluffy white gauze wraps, but it's him none the less. His chest raises and falls slowly beneath the stark white sheet covering his massive frame as a nurse makes her way into the room.
She moves towards the bed with a slight smile, checks a few of the machines and makes a couple of notes on the charts before moving to the side of the bed and checking John's pulse by hand. As her fingers feel the flow of his lifeblood just below the skin, suddenly she screams.
Her piercing cry rings out and echoes down the hall as she tries to leap away from the bed, shocked as John's fingers wrap around her wrist and hold her tightly in his grip. She looks up then, and from beneath the layers of white wrapped around his face, she locks eyes with the Beast, his stare intense, his eyes wild as he looks from her to the door and back to her again.
After a moment, John loosens his grip, and she spilled across the floor in her haste to get away from him.
Several other nurses and doctors piled into the room then, hurrying to rush for aid if it were needed staring at the young lady on the floor and the monster in the bed.
Johnathan Cable: “What day is it?”
Just a few word escape his parched lips, his normal voice low and gravely now dry and grating as well after days of being unconscious and unused.
Johnathan Cable: “What fucking day is it?”
He struggled to raise his voice this time, frustration and terror gripping his soul as the scene fades to black once more.