Post by Austin & Todrick Ramsey on Oct 6, 2023 0:59:34 GMT -5
Trigger warning: The following RP may contain explicit language and show the effects of drug use.
WGWF One Year Anniversary Show Aftermath
The crowd was deafening as Austin and Todrick emerged victorious from the steel cage, their hands raised high, triumph evident in their eyes. The fierce and personal match against The Young Lions had lived up to its hype. The Ramseys' victory wasn't just a win for the record books; it was a win for honor, for family, and for legacy.
The audience cheered and chanted their names as they exited the arena, but their minds were already on the next goal: the WGWF Tag Team Championships.
Making their way to the locker room, Austin remarked, "That was one for the ages, Toddy."
Todrick, wiping sweat from her brow, replied, "It sure was. They gave us a run for our money, but we proved we still have it." She paused, glancing at the championship banner hung up on the wall. "Now, onto the next challenge."
As they reached the locker room, they began the familiar routine of cleaning up. Amidst the bandages, ice packs, and soothing balms, the couple shared moments of tenderness. Austin helping Todrick with a particularly tricky bandage, or Todrick massaging a sore spot on Austin's back. The battle in the ring was intense, but these moments showcased the care and love they shared.
With the grime and sweat of the match washed away, it was time to hit the town. Austin and Todrick, now dressed in their finest, stepped out into the city's vibrant nightlife. The WGWF One Year Anniversary Show was not just a professional milestone but also a personal one, and they were ready to celebrate in style.
The couple made their way to the upper sections of The Velvet Rabbit, a palace of wonders known for hosting the wrestling elite. As they entered, they were met with a chorus of cheers and applause. Fellow wrestlers, trainers, managers, and fans alike congratulated them on their hard-fought victory.
The night was filled with music, laughter, and dancing. Austin and Todrick shared stories from the match, reliving the pivotal moments, the close calls, and the ultimate triumph. Every now and then, they'd share a quiet moment, a dance, a toast, a whisper, reminding each other of the journey they'd been on and the challenges yet to come.
As the night wore on and the club's energy showed no sign of waning, Austin pulled Todrick close, "Tonight, we celebrate. But tomorrow, we start preparing for those championships."
Todrick, her eyes shining with determination, replied, "Together. Always."
And as the city lights painted the night, the couple reveled in their victory, united in purpose, love, and ambition. The road ahead was challenging, but with each other by their side, there was no doubt they were ready to face it head-on.
Gymnastics With The Cutie With The Booty
Todrick Tabor-Ramsey, a unique blend of agility and power in the wrestling ring, often attributed her ring skills to her background in gymnastics. Today, she found herself back at her gymnastics class, working rigorously on the mat and the bars, refining her technique and core strength.
Amidst the flips, jumps, and balances, she paused to speak to her coach, Ms. Angela Valdez, a former Olympic gymnast. "Angela," she began, catching her breath, "I've been thinking. There are so many moves we do here that could translate beautifully into the wrestling ring. Can we brainstorm some new additions to my moveset?"
Ms. Valdez, always up for a challenge, nodded thoughtfully. "Alright, Toddy. You've got a solid foundation with your current wrestling moves. But integrating gymnastics can certainly give you more of an edge. How about incorporating a handspring elbow strike? You'd approach your opponent with a handspring and then strike with an elbow, using the momentum. Usually, you slap your opponent, but let’s switch it up."
Todrick's eyes lit up. "That sounds epic! It’s flashy and effective. What else?"
Angela thought for a moment, "Considering your strength, you could try an aerial into a takedown. Leap over your opponent with an aerial, grab them mid-flight, and then slam them down when you land."
Todrick looked thrilled. "I can picture that! It would definitely catch them off guard. And maybe some kind of rolling move, something that uses the floor work we practice?"
Angela grinned, "A rolling thunder! Start with a forward roll, gain momentum, and then launch into a jumping attack, maybe a leg drop or a senton."
The two continued brainstorming, merging the artistry of gymnastics with the brutality of wrestling. By the end of the session, Todrick had a list of innovative moves to practice and perfect.
Feeling energized and inspired, Todrick thanked her coach. "Angela, this is going to change the game for me. With these moves, the wrestling world won't know what hit them."
As Todrick left the gym, it was evident that she was on a mission. She would blend the worlds of gymnastics and wrestling like never before and leave an indelible mark on the industry.
Austin’s Zen Is Tested
The quiet serenity of the nursing home was abruptly shattered when the doors flew open, revealing the disheveled figures of Austin Ramsey's parents. Their wild eyes darted around the room, finally settling on Austin, who sat holding the frail hand of his grandmother.
"Austin!" his mother screeched, her voice rough and desperate. "You little f****t, you owe us! Give us the money!"
His father, staggering slightly, added his weight to the demands. "You think you're better than us? Just because you're trying to play happy family now?"
Austin's grip on his grandmother's hand tightened imperceptibly, but his face remained calm, a stark contrast to the anger and desperation displayed by his parents. Memories of a tumultuous childhood filled with their erratic behavior and dependency issues flashed through his mind. The hurtful words and the constant disappointment burned into his head, but he had grown and evolved. He had a family, responsibilities, and a life he had painstakingly built.
"I have nothing for you," Austin responded evenly, meeting their frenzied eyes with his calm gaze. "You've taken enough from my past, but you have no claim over my present or future."
His mother, her voice dripping with venom, spat out, "You ungrateful little bitch! You think you're so high and mighty? You're nothing! A terrible son! A worthless husband to that manzilla-looking thing and father to those bastard children!"
His father nodded in agreement, his words slurred, "Yeah, you'll always be a failure. We couldn’t afford to abort you, but we definitely missed a golden opportunity to throw you in a dumpster and walk away. Better yet, we should’ve sold you for an eight-ball. That's about all you are worth."
Austin took a deep breath, battling the urge to react with the fury that once ruled his life. Instead, he responded softly, "I've learned, grown, and built a life worth living. Every day, I fight to be a better husband, father, and son. I have too much to lose, and I won't let you drag me back into that darkness."
He gently kissed his grandmother's forehead, whispered words of comfort, and stood up. With a final look at his parents, he said, "You no longer have power over me. I hope one day you find peace."
And with that, he walked out, the weight of his past a little lighter and the promise of his future a little brighter.
All The Greats Weren’t Quite Right…Right?
A camera crew walks into a dimly lit space of the abandoned art gallery, the faint echo of footsteps reverberating against the walls. The large, dusty room was filled with covered canvases and discarded sculptures, a relic of a time when art thrived here.
Austin Ramsey, his imposing figure overshadowed only by his larger-than-life reputation, was the first to speak. "This place... it's almost poetic, isn't it? Meeting here to discuss Artemis."
Samuel Chatman, ever the strategist, nodded in agreement. "It's fitting. Artemis sees wrestling as her canvas, a place to create 'art.' But we know the real essence of the sport. It's not just about aesthetics; it's about skill, technique, and raw passion. She’s also bat shit crazy; didn’t she chain herself to the Velvet Rabbit’s front doors to protest something?"
Todrick Tabor-Ramsey, her sharp eyes scanning the room, nodded and added, "Her theatrics might have won her some fans, but when it comes to a real match, she'll be out of her depth. Especially against a well-oiled machine like us. People forgot when we all used to team up as The Pretty Boys several years ago. We never lost a beat because we train together, and I’ve wrestled many matches with both of you. My husband and my big bro."
Austin leaned against an old easel, "She surprised everyone at the Fatal Four-Way, though. We can't underestimate her. And then there's Donatello, her so-called muse. He's as unpredictable as she is."
Samuel smirked, "Donatello's more of a distraction than an asset. Let him spew his artistic nonsense. In the ring, words won't matter. Plus, we got Grado watching our backs, Raphael, no, that ain’t right, Michelangelo, fuck, what’s his name again? Wait, I got it; Leonardo and he don’t want no smoke."
Todrick chuckled, "True. If she thinks we are going to make it easy like Atara Raven, who has all the glitz and glamour, spending more time at The Velvet Rabbit than wrestling. She's in for a rude awakening. Her other opponents were kind of disappointing when you think of them compared to us and what we bring to the table."
Austin nodded, "I've seen her type before. All flash, no substance. We just need to stay focused, not get dragged into their games."
The trio shared a moment of unity, knowing that the upcoming match would be as much a test of their mental fortitude as their physical prowess.
Samuel, clapping his hands together, declared, "Let Artemis paint her illusions and bask in her delusions. When the bell rings, they'll realize that facing us is no art exhibition. It's a battleground."
As the trio headed towards the gallery exit, Austin stopped them, a spotlight conveniently placed above him, creating an ambient glow that seemed to spotlight him. With intense focus, he started, "Artemis, you think the wrestling ring is your canvas? Well, let me tell you something: the only artwork you're going to be part of is the masterpiece of defeat we're about to paint."
Todrick stepped forward, flipping her hair with a flair of confidence. "While you dream of making art in the ring, I've been training, sweating, and preparing. Do you want to turn wrestling into an art show? Well, I'm about to give you a crash course in the art of defeat."
Samuel, with fiery intensity, added, "You believe you're bringing something new, something artistic to the ring. But wrestling isn't just an art; it's a war. And in this war, there's no place for pretenders. Master Splinter, keep spewing your poetic nonsense in her ear. When the dust settles, it'll be our hands raised in victory, and you'll be left searching for words, a new gallery to hang your tragic canvas."
Austin, giving a final smirk, declared, "So, Artemis, prepare all you want, bring your art, your muse, your delusions. Because at the end of the night, the only thing you'll be left with is the brutal reality that you faced the best, and you were simply... outclassed by true artists."
With the weight of their words lingering in the air, the spotlight dimmed, leaving no doubt about their determination to dominate the upcoming match. Determined, the three left the gallery, ready to prove that in the world of professional wrestling, talent and dedication always trumped theatrics.
Mistress Of The Dark Arts or Garbage Collector?
Outside the looming structure of the abandoned Medieval Times, a slight mist hugged the ground, adding to the eeriness of the setting. As the camera crew readied themselves, Austin Ramsey, Todrick Tabor-Ramsey, and Samuel Chatman stood poised, their expressions serious and focused.
The camera light blinked on, and Austin stepped forward, his voice deep and powerful, echoing through the abandoned halls. "Enchantra, you think you can play your dark games with us? You may deal in blood magics and dark arts, but we've faced monsters, ghouls, and all sorts of beasties and prevailed."
Todrick, her eyes fiery with determination, added, "Collecting pieces of your opponents? Using them to build your own strength? It's not only twisted, but it's also a sign of weakness. It shows you're incomplete, always needing something more. We, on the other hand, stand strong with our own merits."
Samuel, always the strategist, chimed in, "I've seen your matches, Enchantra. How you sneakily take a piece of your opponent, be it blood, hair, or attire. But let me tell you, you can't just steal strength and skill. It's earned through sweat, blood, and dedication, not through some dark ritual."
Austin pointed to the camera, his voice dripping with challenge, "And let's not forget your “little” minion, Manthing. Size might be intimidating, but in the ring, it's skill, agility, and heart that matter. We've taken down Titans before."
Todrick laughed, "Enchantra, your mystical charades won't work on us. We are grounded in reality, in true talent. You can't just absorb greatness; you have to be born with it and work for it."
Samuel nodded, "Your journey to create the 'perfect warrior' is flawed, Enchantra. Because perfection isn't achieved by collecting pieces of others. It's about honing your own skills and pushing your own limits. And when we meet in the ring, you'll understand this. Besides, you cannot collect what already exists. Daddy is perfection; ask around."
Austin concluded, "Prepare all you want, gather all the trinkets and charms. But remember, in the end, it's not magic that will determine the outcome; it's sheer will and talent. And in that, you're outmatched."
The trio's silhouettes cast long shadows across the stone walls of the Medieval Times as they moved into a room that was fashioned as a sorcerer’s chambers. Shelves with tattered books and broken vials littered the room.
Todrick stepped forward, her voice unwavering. "Enchantra, every strand of hair, every drop of blood you collect, you believe it makes you more powerful. But deep down, beneath that mask, is a scared individual looking for shortcuts and a crutch to prop up mediocrity at its finest."
Samuel, with a mocking tone, added, "Relying on rituals and the so-called dark arts? It's a fancy cover-up for a lack of real talent. Wrestling is about spirit and dedication. Not how many vials of blood you've collected."
Austin, flexing his muscles in a show of strength, declared, "And let's be honest. Once the bell rings, no amount of magic or potions can save you from the onslaught you'll face. We've battled every monster, giant, and legend in your puny little spell book. A 'sorceress' with her 'hulk' won't be any different."
Todrick, eyes flashing, continued, "Honey, I've faced many who've underestimated me, thinking they had an edge with their gimmicks and tricks. But they all learned the same lesson. At the end of the day, I’m a total package that possesses everything that determines the victor. Not some twisted collection of pure foolishness."
Samuel smirked, "Manthing, you might tower over many, but when it comes to technique, agility, and wrestling IQ, you're the Frankenstein monster before the lightning, dead to me. And Enchantra, hiding behind your masks and incantations won't protect you from reality. You're stepping into the ring with the perfect warriors."
Austin's voice lowered, his words dripping with intensity, "You may think your arts give you an edge, make you invincible. But remember, every ritual has a counter, every spell can be broken, and every warrior, no matter how 'perfect' they think you made them into, can be defeated."
With one last shared nod, the camera light blinked off, leaving the trio standing defiantly, ready to challenge the dark enigma that was Enchantra and put an end to her twisted rituals. The trio walked away, leaving the camera crew in the haunting ambiance of the Medieval Times, their message to Enchantra clear and undeniable.
Go, Go, Power Rangers!
The sun shone brilliantly over the sprawling local park, casting vibrant rainbows through the water sprinklers that children darted through, shrieking with laughter. Everywhere one looked, the park was awash with the vibrant colors of Power Rangers – reds, blacks, blues, yellows, pinks, whites, and greens. Balloon bouquets floated gently above picnic tables laden with themed cupcakes, candies, and an impressive multi-tiered cake that bore the Power Ranger logo.
At the entrance stood a life-sized cardboard cutout of the Power Rangers for kids to pose with, but what truly stole the show were the entertainers. Dressed as Power Rangers, they performed martial arts moves, much to the awe of the young attendees, further bridging Whitney’s love for her father’s profession and the theme of the party.
Samuel Chatman watched with proud, shining eyes as Whitney, wearing a little pink Power Ranger suit, ran around with her friends, her laughter infectious. Beside him, Austin Ramsey was busy snapping photos, trying to capture every precious moment. Todrick Tabor-Ramsey, being the fun aunt, was right in the thick of it, sword-fighting with foam Power Ranger swords and playfully dueling with the young party-goers.
Then there was Edward Grado. While he might have seemed aloof to his surroundings in the wrestling world, today, he was surprisingly involved. Maybe it was the relaxed setting, or perhaps it was his underlying feelings for Samuel, but he was animated – helping kids with their party hats, refilling juice cups, and even joining in a game of "Pin the Tail on the T-Rex."
During a lull in the festivities, Edward approached Samuel, handing him a drink. "Great party, Samuel. The little pink girl that looks like you looks so happy."
Samuel gives him a side eye and takes the drink, he replies, "Thanks, Edward. It means the world to see her like this. All this... the wrestling, the fame... it's all secondary when it comes to her."
Edward's gaze lingered a moment too long on Samuel, a hint of wistfulness in his eyes. "You're a great Daddy, Samuel."
Oblivious to the deeper sentiments Edward harbored or trying desperately to avoid them, Samuel clapped him on the back. "Thanks, man. I appreciate you being here, really. It means a lot."
As the day wore on, games were played, cake was devoured, and gifts were opened. The wrestlers, despite their larger-than-life personas in the ring, blended seamlessly into the joyful chaos of a children's birthday party.
As the cake was being served, Samuel found a moment to pull Akasha, Austin, and Todrick aside to a quieter spot near a tree. Their faces, usually so intense in the ring, were relaxed and filled with the soft contentment of the day.
"Whitney's growing up so fast," Samuel began, his voice thick with emotion. "It feels like just yesterday she was born, and now she's here, surrounded by friends, dressed as a Power Ranger."
Akasha, smiling softly, responded, "Time flies, Samuel. But days like today? They're the ones we'll remember forever. And thank you for going all out for her. It means the world."
Austin, leaning against the tree with a playful grin, chimed in, "I never pegged you for a Power Rangers fan, Samuel. But then again, Whitney seems to have you wrapped around her little finger."
Samuel laughed, "Bruh, quit acting like your kids, don’t got you the same way. But yeah, you caught me. Whatever she wants. Besides, Power Rangers are cool except when you run outta energy like the green one. You ain’t the red one."
Todrick, who had been busy all day entertaining the kids, added, "Leave him alone, he has been on his best behavior, and you know red is his favorite color. But seriously, this party is epic! And trust me, in a few years, we might have another wrestler in the family. I saw her 'defeat' three villains today."
Akasha chuckled, "Let's not rush it. Today, she's our Power Ranger. Tomorrow, who knows? But whatever she chooses, I just want her to be happy."
Samuel, his gaze drifting back to where Whitney was gleefully sharing cake with her friends, murmured, "That's all I want too, Akasha."
Austin clapped Samuel on the shoulder, "She's got a great family and one good parent, not you, Chatman, but Akasha adores her. She's going to be just fine."
Todrick nodded in agreement, "Absolutely. And she's lucky to have all of us in her corner."
As they shared a moment of unity, the laughter of the children and the joy of the day wrapped around them, reminding them of the importance of family and the simple pleasures of life. The day was a testament to the fact that behind the fierce competitions, the personas, and the drama of the wrestling world, they were just regular people cherishing life's simple moments. As Whitney blew out her candles, making a wish, her face illuminated by the soft glow, it was clear that this was a day that would be etched in her memory forever.
It’s Go Time
Inside the locker room, the atmosphere was thick with anticipation. Austin, Todrick, and Samuel were in the final stages of their pre-match preparations. Each wrestler seemed engrossed in their own rituals. Austin was methodically taping up his wrists, Todrick was stretching and focusing on her breathing, and Samuel was going over some strategy notes, occasionally discussing points with his teammates.
Suddenly, there was a knock on the door, which opened to reveal Denise Essex, mic in hand and a cameraman trailing behind her.
"Hey guys," Denise greeted with a friendly smile. "Mind if we get a few words about the upcoming match?"
Austin, looking up from his wrist tape, replied, "Sure, Denise. Come on in."
Todrick rolls her eyes at Denise due to some beef about Cholo earlier in the year. Ever the professional, she let it go, and her determination to establish herself as the dominant female in the room was evident. She was the first to speak. "Artemis and Enchantra are both formidable in their own right. But together? They haven't faced a team like us. We're united, synchronized, and ready."
Denise, who didn’t want smoke about talking to Toddy’s husband, turned to Samuel, "There's been a lot of talk about this match, a lot of personal jabs thrown around. How are you guys handling the pressure?"
Samuel, ever the calm strategist, responded, "Wrestling isn't just about physical strength, Denise. It's about mental fortitude. The jabs, the taunts, they're all part of the game. But when that bell rings, it's all about who's better prepared and who wants it more. We've been working, training, and strategizing for this moment, basically doing what we do best. We're ready."
Denise cast Toddy a defiant look and shifted her attention to Austin, "Austin, there's been some chatter about how this could be one of the most explosive matchups of the year. Any final thoughts?"
Austin, his eyes burning with intensity, said, "Explosive is right. We've heard the chatter, seen the promos, and felt the tension building. Artemis and Enchantra, they've got their strengths. But we've got something they don't: unity. We're a well-oiled machine, and tonight, everyone will see why."
As Denise was about to exit, she paused, sensing there was more to be shared, more beneath the surface of the trio's words. Denise turned her gaze to Todrick, "Todrick, Artemis with her artistic approach. Any concerns?"
Todrick responded with a smirk, "Every wrestler has their style, their flair. Artemis sees the ring as a canvas, but this isn't an art exhibition or a one-woman show.
Austin added, "Look, Denise, every match has its challenges. But at the end of the day, it's about who wants it more. Who's hungrier? And let me tell you, we're starving for this win."
Denise nodded, sensing their determination. "Thank you for sharing, and best of luck tonight. It's shaping up to be a match for the ages."