Tyke Index vs Scythe Bloodline

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Admin Administrator Posts: 2,691	Tyke Index vs Scythe Bloodline Jun 10, 2019 7:41:33 GMT -6 Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by Admin on Jun 10, 2019 7:41:33 GMT -6 Tyke Index vs Scythe Bloodline Roleplay Limit: TWO Roleplay Deadline: Sunday, June 23, 2019 @ 2AM Central

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Tyke Index vs Scythe Bloodline Jun 10, 2019 16:50:47 GMT -6 Admin likes this

Post by Deleted on Jun 10, 2019 16:50:47 GMT -6

Scene: Saint Josephs Hospital: Time: Quarter past fuck knows

For the past twenty four hours I have lay here, lay still. I could count the amount of people who brought flowers to my grave on one hand, maybe one finger, maybe none. See the truth is, nobody cared about me, nobody wanted me to succeed and maybe I was supposed to be down here suffocating under the soils of death. I was rotting away and when I tried to move my arm, I could feel nothing but the weight of the world forcing it right down by my side again.

Genuinely, the last thing I remember was lying in that grave with Zombie, lying under the headlights and stars staring at the same destiny, see, we were supposed to share the same destiny. Yet, something changed. Something evolved and became more drastically violent than it was ever supposed to be. I thought death had called and been rejected but it turns out those mutterings in my head were never truly extinguished, so here I found myself on deaths door one more time looking for a resolution, a final resolution.

I wondered if people knew I was still alive, I even wondered if people actually cared if I was alive or dead, it wasn’t like there was a queue of people standing six foot above me mourning my death. Coming to think of it, everything was pretty quiet here, everything was pretty serene and real. As I slowly opened my eyes, I realized that I was no longer six foot under but lying still on a bed sit. I tried to move my lifeless limbs but as my elbows and knees slumped under the weight of my body, I realized that I was dormant and supressed by twenty four hours of no food or water.

How did I get here? I was supposed to be buried alive? Where was I? I could see a light switch and as I tried to propel myself off the bed and onto the floor in a desperate attempt to crawl towards this light I could see that there was drips attached to my arm. I was in the hospital, fuck, this was worse than I ever thought it could be. Who dug me out? Why did they care? Why did they not just leave me to die? Maybe it was better for everyone if I was six foot under, maybe…

“Mr Index, you are in the Saint Joseph Hospital. You arrived here 15 hours ago; it appears you have suffered injuries to the neck and also severe concussion. Further inspections show you were incredibly lucky, though; this could and should have been far worse. We would recommend that seek advice on action to take against your work place, as whoever sanctioned a dangerous environment such as the one you were obliged to compete in last night was obviously breaching human rights and have committed a very serious crime”.

Fuck me, if only this young doctor knew the half of it. I guess they can’t have many people show up on their door step after this sort of ‘accident at work’; it’s not really your conventional fell off a ladder in the factory is it? I tried to find out who had brought me here, but the doctor never caught their name, apparently they looked more dishevelled than me though.

“Guy with a big beard; looked like he was an extra in Sons of Anarchy. Not sure he has ever heard of deodorant either, guy was reeking of Sambuca and beer.”

So fucking Opie wanted me to live, just great, selfish bastard, I was happy down there, happy six foot under.

I snarled at the doctor and asked if I could leave, apparently they couldn’t hold me against my will but advised that I stay put for a little while more. I had already stayed here 24 hours too long, but this Doctor seemed to want to get to know me more. She was asking all sorts of crazy questions like what was the last thing I remembered, if I had ever been on a plane and if I had a next of kin.

Nosey bitch, if she wanted a date with me, all she had to do was ask, though, her choice of setting was sadly lacking. Apparently, she was worried that I was suffering from trauma. Imagine that? A guy like me who had been in prison for ten years and nearly damn near died just a day ago suffering from some sort of PTSD? Surely not.

Worst part of all this is that I had arrived here in spandex trunks and had no change of clothes with me, so I had to step outside the hospital in nothing but my birthday suit and a borrowed pair of slippers. Honestly, this was the worst day I could ever remember. I was determined to find the fucker who robbed me of my moment; I should have been at peace by now, not standing outside a hospital with nothing but a tight pair of pants on with people left, right and centre staring at me and my junk.

I asked some lady outside the front doors of this forbidden shithole of ill people if she could fetch me an uber, she just looked at me up and down in absolute disgust.

“What’s the matter, never seen a naked man before mam?”

Where was her compassion?

Just then at the side of my eyes, I felt a weight grab on my arm, before I knew it I was in the front passenger seat of a vehicle. Beside me, beside me was Harvey
Goodfellows.

Fuck.

Harvey was absolutely fuming, spitting selectable syllables all over me. Shit, he was spraying me with a verbal shower; I hadn’t seen him this angry since I fell asleep in the oven last year mistaking it for a sun bed.

“Tyke, I leave you for forty eight hours and in that period of time you manage to bury yourself alive and nearly get yourself arrested for indecent exposure outside a
hospital, a friggin’ hospital! Do you know who gets arrested outside hospitals? No? Me neither you absolute buffoon”

Harvey kept glancing at me with his eyebrows a palatable shade of grey. I was concerned he was about to have a heart attack.

“So, here’s what we are going to do. We are going back to the hotel now and you are going to get your head down, because tomorrow? Tomorrow we are heading to the lawyers and demanding an explanation from Robert Mack, an explanation as to why they exploited your mental health with a stipulation not fit for human welfare”

I laughed, Harvey didn’t get it, the doctor didn’t get it either. I wanted to be anywhere but here and that grave was at least warm, I asked for that match and I received that match. This wasn’t the fault of Robert Mack nor was it the fault of the Shieldmaidens, not this time anyway, besides who said I had mental health problems? I only hear voices once a week, maybe twice, thrice or four times a day? Harvey continued.

“I mean, have you even heard the news?”

Harvey glanced at me in the front view mirror of the car

“You got Scythe Bloodline next. They have signed you up against the man who started all of these woes, if it wasn’t for Scythe Bloodline, last night would never have come to blows, you would be sitting in a plush Vegas hotel getting your dick sucked in a 100 grand kimono.”

Suddenly everything made sense, Harvey was exaggerating the lifestyle I led but he was right about one thing – this all started with Scythe Bloodline; a man who in the very last HcW show a year ago dethroned me as HcW World Champion.

I had never recovered from that loss, not really. Everything had been going smoothly to that point, everything had been tickety boo and then came this guy determined to fuck up my life, then came Scythe Bloodline. Scythe represented the demons that had followed me since, hell; it was news to me till just the other day that he had even arrived in Mile High. For all extent and purposes, Scythe was that one guy I just couldn’t shake.

“Tyke, I’m worried. I’m worried that this is all too much for you; we need to go to Robert Mack and have this match called off immediately. See, it’s not that you cannot defeat Scythe Bloodline but more the decorations that his face brings to your life. Quite frankly, Scythe represents memories in your past that you should never have to face again."

Stopping briefly before finishing

"Again, though, just an example of Robert Mack trying to exploit your mental health.”

I know I shouldn’t, but damn, I couldn’t wait to be close to Scythe again. Like a drug addiction, I was fascinated about the emotions I would feel being surrounded by Scythe again, a part of me wanted to hate him but a part of me…

A part of me wanted to get to know him better, a part of me wanted to know why he chose me to go after and why after all this time he would come to visit me one
more time. See, before Scythe I was the most mentally stable I had been in years, a multi time champion and the best in the sport. I was someone kids looked up to and the first person you wanted to attend baby showers and bar mitzvahs.

After Scythe?

Well after Scythe is where it all started to go wrong, that’s when the friends in my head started to reappear with less reassuring voices than before meeting Scythe.
This time rather than telling me that I was the biggest and best human in the world, they were telling me that it was time to visit a dark place that no one dares to
visit. This time, rather than telling me I could face these demons they were telling me to suppress and submit.

So I submitted, I tapped out to life and I guess that’s why last night I was quite happy being six foot under, I guess that’s why nothing seemed to matter anymore, to the point I was sitting almost butt naked in a rental car with a business advisor who only cares about his bank balance. Ultimately, though, and most importantly I guess that’s why I am back here at square one staring down Scythe Bloodline.

Suddenly all this made sense, I would not be allowed to move forward until I defeated Scythe Bloodline once and for all. See, this whole time I was being held in a
check mate, this whole time I was being held in some sort of sick and twisted time warp, the worst part is at some point I seemed to enjoy being held hostage, I
became a hostage tied to the visceral teachings of my past.

Fuck, I wasn’t even a hostage anymore just a victim.

I had allowed myself to become so weak lately that I had transitioned from judge to victim, in the space of a year I had went from champion to chump, fixated with
death than sentencing others to it.

Sometimes it takes being at rock bottom to realize that the only way is up, well hell, if being six foot under isn’t a good place to start then I dunno what the hell is. I
asked Harvey if we could stop off at Slaters Suit service, turns out I had an occasion to be alive for now that wasn’t MY funeral.

If only I could find that lovely bearded gentleman who rescued me?

I guess we can solve that mystery after some sleep and taking out Scythe Bloodline.

Roll on our dance, this time it ends differently.

This time, Scythe, you are the victim.

Just as I imagine the sight of a motionless Scythe singing his last lullaby Harvey pulls up at the side of the road and looks at me square in the eyes

“Tyke, there is something you should know, I didn’t wanna tell you because I knew it might make you mad. You wanna know the reason you were in hospital? Well, that guy who looked like the extra in Sons of Anarchy that the Doctor was alluding to? Well, it wasn’t Opie. No, it was Solomon Cain. Solomon attacked you and then drove you to the hospital himself while you were still unconscious. He called me late last night and said he didn’t want you to outlive him, something about you deserving to live with the same pain he has for the past year”

My eyes opened wide and I stared at Harvey for almost five minutes.

“Harvey, where is Solomon just now? I think we need to be inviting him over for some supper, sounds like he has some awesome stories to tell and well, who better to narrate them than Tyke Index?”

Harvey stopped the car and looked at me like I had totally lost my marbles

“Tyke, this man wants to kill you and by god tried to kill you last night. He has no remorse, no endeavour to live himself, nothing and you? You want to invite him over for dinner!?”

Of course, I wanted to invite him over for dinner. I hadn’t been so excited for years! Finally, someone who had been feeling the same pain as me, hell, maybe we could write a novel together? So many possibilities and so little time, I asked Harvey if Solomon liked playing cowboys and Indians in the playground as a child.

Maybe sometime soon, we could take a side each and have a battle.

I would like to play cowboys and Indians with Solomon real soon.

Harvey gave me that look he does all so often, that look of "you have completely fucking lost your mind".

Yes, Harvey, yes I have.

Last Edit: Jun 10, 2019 17:22:39 GMT -6 by Deleted

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Tyke Index vs Scythe Bloodline Jun 16, 2019 15:01:04 GMT -6

Post by Deleted on Jun 16, 2019 15:01:04 GMT -6

16/6/2019, Hotel Teatro – Denver Colorado @ 4pmish

Harvey Goodfellows had been on the phone all morning; I could hear his chubby little cheeks reverberate off the top of his telephone as he gasped for air in between long winding sentences. This was his ninth or tenth phone call of length today, sometimes I wondered if he ever ran out of things to talk about, other times I was glad he had others to distract him and it wasn’t just me who had to listen to his gibberish.

Perhaps, one of the best things about being trapped six foot under would be not listening to his boisterous and patronising tones telling me about all the bad mistakes I had made. See, Harvey looked out for me at the best of times and I needed that, with the fragile mind I had looped with all the other mental health inadequacies I had picked up over the years, it always done me more great than harm to have a steady head like Harvey calling the shots in the background.

Yet, this time, this time he was becoming somewhat irritating. Since leaving the hospital he had reminded me way too many times about how I had come close to death last week, but what he didn’t realize is that I was happy coming close to death, not because I felt so trapped that I wanted to end it, no because it made me realize who I actually am and what my purpose is still being here.

For obvious reasons I hadn’t watched the end of Mile High Spectacular, as good as technology is these days, it’s pretty hard to get cable television or an app in a bunker six foot under unless of course you are Saddam Hussein, our boy Saddam seemed to get by quite well for almost fifteen years under ground. I bet had it been a few years later he would have had a Netflix and a Prime account as well, the sly sod.

Anyway, Harvey had suggested I watch the Mile High Championship match between the champion Skrabz and the challenger Solomon Cain, so I lined up the repeat and watched the match, all sixteen minutes and forty two seconds of it. My god, there is almost twenty minutes I will never get back. One thing did stand out, though, Solomon Cain was no longer a lost child but a lost man and that loss of innocence meant the end of the line for him.

See, Solomon, that’s why even when I was six foot under you still looked more vulnerable than I ever did. Suddenly I understood why he was so desperate to keep me alive, Solomon wanted a figure to pity him, low key Solomon wanted someone to empathize with his situation and looking at it from a wide angle I could almost understand why. For years I had been cast as this figure of despair and doom, even when I was winning championships but now, well now I was fixating and flirting with death just like Solomon, Solomon didn’t want to be alone in his miserable existence, he wanted friends, friends like me, friends like Tyke Index. Difference between Solomon and I was that I could control and condemn those urges, while Solomon was too weak to control anything, he was weak minded.

Harvey was on the phone to Robert Mack, they were still ironing out the fallout from Mile High Spectacular and despite already telling Harvey that I took full responsibility for my own decision making leading into my match last week, Harvey was determined to take Mile High to the cleaners. I did pick up on one key arc from the call, though:

“If Tyke Index avenges his defeat to Scythe Bloodline next week at Throwdown then we demand that he is allowed to hand pick his opponent on July 21st at Rise Again; that is the least you can do for my client and company ambassador Mr. Index.”

Harvey was winking at me while holding the phone. Harvey loved holding the deck of cards in any situation. I could hear a long pause on the phone from Robert. In fact, I don’t think he ever did reply and if he did I never heard the answer. As Harvey put his phone back into his pocket he approached me with a grubby smile, grubby money making smile, and his favourite sort of smile.

“Well, what did he say Harvey?”

“Tyke, it’s not what he said but what he didn’t say. See, men like Robert Mack will never admit when they are wrong, it is up to us to prove men like him wrong and at Throwdown we will do just that…”

I was having a hard time fully trusting Harvey these days. I felt like his blue print was in smart negotiating yet lately, I was unsure whether these decisions were to benefit my athletic ability or his pockets. For years I had been told that my athletic ability would deepen our pockets with cash but recently I was looking at extending my overdraft and I was wondering why I was driving around in a Fiat Punto instead of a Ferrari these days while Harvey had been upgrading from a studio apartment to a mansion the likes of Michael Jordan and Brad fuckin’ Pitt were staying in.

Where was my money? Had I thrown it all away in bathrooms? Had it all gone up my nose and out my back side? I was feeling drowsy and confused, maybe still on meds from the hospital. God knows what they were feeding me down those dreary drips last week. One thing I did know, though, was that next week I could start to right a lot of wrongs. I was excited, excited for the first time in a long time to go to work.

I would figure my financial situation out soon enough but first, first I had business to take care of. If Robert did grant Harvey’s request, then I already knew who I wanted at Rise Again, I am sure it is pretty obvious who...

I waved goodbye to Harvey who was already on the blower again to boxing promoter Eddie Hearn, while they worked on the finer details of making more money I was on a mission to find out some home truths about my past and more importantly my future.

16/6/2019 Dive Inn Bar, Denver Colorado @ 7pmish

Sitting in a bar without alcohol felt pretty weird to me, sobering to say the least. Tonight wasn’t about drinking and partying, it was about discovery. See, this was the bar that I came to last year after dropping the HcW Championship to Scythe Bloodline. I came here just a few hours after via private helicopter to sign an exclusive multi-year deal with Mile High.

In a lot of ways this bar signalled the launch pad of a catastrophic disaster, the start of a haemorrhaging and draining catastrophe. Coming to Mile High was supposed to mark a new chapter for Tyke Index, it was supposed to represent the great unknown but that unknown soon became a nightmare. Looking around at those feigning happiness at the beer pong tables and immaculate craft cocktails, the bludgeoned murdered red meat being served up to satisfy gluttonous needs, I soon realized why I began to hate this sort of lifestyle.

Everything was false, nothing had real value. Every single person in this room had a chip on their shoulder including me, nobody had money just credit that floated around aimlessly similar to the souls that surround it.

Thing about spending half your life either high or drunk is that after a certain amount of time, every single social situation seems to drift into another. Eventually your entire life becomes this one huge weekend that never ever ends, that huge weekend had been my life for the past year. That huge weekend had been my life since…

Scythe Bloodline.

I resented that Scythe condemned me to an even deeper hole than anything I encountered last week when I was buried alive and left for dead. See, I could cope with being left for dead. I had spent most my life floundering around and flirting with death, that’s fine, I’m a big boy. What I couldn’t deal with was how unapologetic Scythe was to him this was just a game. Scythe enjoyed watching my struggle while he attended the autograph conventions and red carpet events that I was supposed to attend. Scythe had stolen more than my title; Scythe had stolen my identity and purpose. Scythe had taken everything that had made Tyke Index the person he was, all I ever wanted was a thank you. Scythe, you never did say thanks for inviting you to the dance. Scythe, you would never have had a seat at the table had it not been for me.

As I glanced at the memorabilia around the room, I could see everything ranging from retro Denver Broncos tops to bar staff selfies with famous (D list) celebrities.

Hold on…

There is me, there is me very drunk. There is me holding some sort of Cuban cigar and sweating profusely into a jug of gin. Turns out I had been inducted into the Dive Inn hall of fame last year for my ‘legendary’ antics, I always wondered what happened after I had signed my contract. Turns out I was never going to remember with the amount of alcohol and substances I had consumed that night, my life had evolved into a complete unavoidable joke by that point.

I approached the bar man and asked when the photo was taken, his face lit up and he yelled at the top of his lungs:

“BOYS AND GIRLS, LOOK WHO IS BACK. BY FUCKIN’ GOD, IT’S TYKE MOTHERFUCKIN’ TEN LINES INDEX!!! RAISEEE YA GLASSES HIGH IN DA AIR LIKE YA JUST DON'T CARE!!”

I could feel every single eye in the room piercing a hole through me and looking deep into the dark remnants of my soul as they burst into loud applause and as beer spilled from the leveraged glasses held high in the air as a toast to my recklessness; I wanted to be anywhere else but here. Before I knew it people were trying to buy me drinks, arms were swallowing around my body, forever trying to coax me back into the blues. Temptation was everywhere and conclusions were nowhere to be seen, except this time I was sober. As I hurriedly exited the bar and got back in my rental car, I put my head down firmly towards the wheel and wondered how it had ever come to this.

I wanted to drive off, run away. I had spent my entire life running away, though, this time I had to face things head on. As I exited the car and went back in the bar I asked the bar man if he had seen Solomon Cain recently.

“Oh, the lost child?”

I nodded.

“He’s been in here more than you were back in the day, did you guys ever decide who was playing the cowboy and who was playing the Indian?”

I asked why his face wasn’t on the bar hall of fame like your boy here and got a ridiculous grin off this little shit of a bar tender, I swear I wanted to punch his annoying little face in.

“Tyke, we love a party animal in here not a kill joy. See, you kept this entire bar high and away from their shitty lives for the entire night, the perfect escapism. Solomon makes this place want to jump in the Springs, honestly, his gloom could bring the rain on the sunniest day.”

I wanted to feel this rain fall between my fingers and I was determined that I would find the lost MAN very soon and expose his inner child to a future he never wanted to see in the first place.

In the mean time…

Hi Scythe, prepare for some retribution.

Last Edit: Jun 16, 2019 15:02:06 GMT -6 by Deleted

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Tyke Index vs Scythe Bloodline Jun 17, 2019 15:39:01 GMT -6

Post by Deleted on Jun 17, 2019 15:39:01 GMT -6

Title: Awakening Pt2
Play Gloria

Before The Spectacular

Jun 5, 2019

Have you heard about Uncle Raven?

Sure I have, people don’t need to interrupt my meals out with Miranda, or stop me when out walking to the Pharmacy for prescriptions.
(sighs)

Now that I have shot my first promo those are the things people who seem me on the street say. If they follow wrestling that is. They don't know what has happen to me since the fall of HcW, and I avoid those questions. I feel so weak that I have to take these … pills… Am I less of a man because I need them to keep my mind in check? Why do I need to speak my thoughts out loud?
I feel awoke. The Wicked Path seems to be evolving, the words I heard from my Uncle were that of being redefined. The UNKNOWN... it is terrifying, but I feel so aroused by that feeling. The shame stings me so deeply I find myself unable to know what to do, should I be happy, or deny myself that emotion?
It is so hard to find people in this big world that we connect with, for so long I doubted what Raven’s motives were. What did he want with me? Was it Miranda? I have yet to meet his wife, she sounded lovely on the phone. That promo he did moved me, it did something inside of me that none of my medications are able to, it made me feel … alive.
That feeling that I am just strolling through life by myself is fading, and I see a future starting to form in it’s place. That spirit inside of me that made me chase title after title the last time I stepped into a ring feels rejuvenated. All that I can focus on now is that I must train. I want to become... better.

I am sick of tiny stumbles tripping up my mind all the time. There is a Spectacular where a family reunion shall take place, one that I am going into blindly. That... Daredevil inside me just can't help it. The terror, fighting back against it and not letting it cripple me, that more than anything tells me I am just a human. I have been neglecting that for too long now acting like only my mind has mattered and not my body. This commitment will end that, this is what I have woke up for, the future I hoped for, this is my present, this is Now.

Spectacular Training

Jun 7, 2019

I rode an UP and a DOWN in just those two days! How will I do this? Traveling makes things worse sometimes. I just need to stay focused. I finally did it I signed up for a federation. Mile High Wrestling. My breathing is better, I can push my body father on jogs. I didn't do any research before hand, I just know the boss is formerly Snakebite. As I said, that UNKNOWN, I NEED some of it, it is scary, but thrilling! Most of all it is better than not having nowhere to go. The training for this event has brought back that purpose, the one that regular life had me seeming so ... numb without.

As I walk down the steps, I think I smell Fish, so it is Friday? I hope Miranda cooks it all the way through this time. I woke up feeling rejuvenated, a feeling that has almost become a faded memory. Stepping out of the shower I take a step onto the towel prelaid out, dripping heavily onto it from the swimming trunks on my waist. -Sighs- I step out of the door to see Miranda making tea. My eyes focus on the cups she is making, five…

Scythe- “Miranda… is somebody here I don’t know about?”

Miranda- “Some men wanting to talk about business, one is a talent agent.”

She smiles her excitement is guarded, but I feel skeptical. I peak my head around the corner as she carries the tray into the Den of our house. A man in a red jumpsuit and matching mask is sitting next to a well groomed, rich dressing guy. This feels very close to a time a group named The Natural Order tried to recruit me, but more on that another time.
As I stare, the light disappears I turn and look up seeing a giant man looking down at me with a barrel chest in my face.

Well Groomed Man- Doc there is the man we are looking for. (he stands up and greets me) Hello Scythe I am Zach Zmiz, this man on your sofa is my associate and top talent scout, in my opinion Alexander Stone, better known as AJ Riot, and this man is my bodyguard Doc.

Scythe- So who are you?

Zach Zmiz- Hehe, right I am just here as a wrestling fan. We recently worked with a man I have tracked down as… your Uncle, do you know a Raven Trueblood?

AJ Stone- Cheers! The greatest man who ever lived, God Bless him!

Scythe- Wait is he drunk?

Zach Zmiz- Sure we’ll call it that, but you are diverting the conversation. I came here because I want to talk to the nephew of Raven Trueblood.

I wait a couple seconds looking around to decide if I should answer, and if I do how honest do I need to be? Miranda gives me a reassuring look she seems to trust these visitors so far, so I elect to hear them out, plus my curiosity is getting to me. I haven’t heard from Uncle Raven since he got married. Does he remember the teachings?
Does he still have fun or is life all work?
I have so many questions for him, but they all fade into the distance becoming just silence.
The look Zach gives me pushes me along so I clear my throat and begin to speak.

Scythe- Yes. What do you know about my Uncle?

Zach Zmiz- I know he is insane, but I like that. He draws people to our industry, we are currently on a Camping trip. I said I am a wrestling fan, so what brings me here is the acquisition of PCW by your employer Robert Mack. The Owner of Mile High Wrestling right that is him?

Scythe- My understanding, he is who hired me. Ok…?

Zach Zmiz- That now makes you and your uncle under the same umbrella again!

Mr. Stone jumps up on my sofa he spills his tea in the excitement falling over as the sofa tips back dumping him at my feet.

AJ Stone- The Blood Coven! Imagine the power trip! Will it happen? Are you two going to be partners or enemies?

First I feel offended, why would I be enemies? I have heard things about Raven though, he has changed so maybe we will be? This could be interesting to let people believe what they want. The goosebumps up my arm make this feel funky.

Scythe- Who are you again Mr. Zmiz?

Zach Zmiz- I am just looking for details, stories that the fans want to hear and brother… I am a fan. If you can’t tell so is this guy. (he says pointing at Mr. Stone) We want fans to know about everything that is going on, we want to be captivated by the most intriguing stories, Scythe… you are one interesting story.

Scythe- I am not your brother… I have been told a lot about my story, I been told I am bad, I been told to give up and kill myself. I have been told to ignore the haters and keep doing my thing. I have been told I need to evolve and keep up with the times. All in all I would say, nobody wants to hear it anymore the way I want to tell it. I gave everything I had away in HcW and after it fails year after year to get kick started I just feel so…

AJ Stone- Empty?

I take a deep breath in, to be honest him saying that almost made me punch this stranger. that is the word I feel but can’t admit. I turn to many other things, I hang out with people that use me for my fame or money. It all get exhausting after awhile, I forget what it is like to have a purpose that makes you feel alive. The last fight I had that I felt was worth fighting was against Tyke Index for the HcW championship…. Now what is it? A dead cow with some gold and diamonds on it… it means nothing now does it?

Miranda- I think he stays very fulfilled, he volunteers for a school in our community, he does a lot of small shop appearances to drive in business. Every month he does a week of Meals on Wheels. His life isn’t empty he touches a lot of lives, that is very fulfilling.

I can't help smile I like the way Miranda looks at things in a way I am unable to. I do like the smiles I get from kids at the school where I volunteer, I have to keep myself accountable knowing they are watching me as a role model. I feel a great sense of pride when a local shop keeper wants me to do an appearance for them, I usually don't even charge. Just helping the community stay involves with smaller businesses feels like payment enough for my deeds. As for the week I help feed the elderly or people stuck in their house, those are days I really feel blessed to hear so much about people's lives. Just seeing me lightens up their week so I try to spread myself around as much as I can. What she said really has me thinking now.

Scythe- You guys want a story? How about you watch Mile High Wrestling on June 9th and report on that. If you would all excuse me now, I would like to go out for my morning jog.

I watch Zach take notes and Mr. Stone thank Miranda for the tea, I walk past the big Doc and leave. This has brought a lot back to my mind, this job at Mile High might lead to more than I thought. My Uncle Raven will be there, but will he really? Who is my Uncle now? I guess we’ll find out after the Spectacular.

Post Spectacular
Jun 10, 2019

The Blood Coven reunited!

Today feels like a brand new life! That was the big story for the PCW alumni was that story. I figured it would be, why would they care about some punk ass noob named Brandon Young with the tag BMoney. He wishes he was a fly as Dax Clark has always been, I still feel like Team Clark for life, but what do any of you know about Team Clark? That is so far in the past. We are talking about the now. New discoveries, new lessons, new experiences.

People today want now after all, am I right? Even June 9th was too long ago for them and they have moved on to bigger and better things. I watched as someone I idolize was buried alive. I couldn't even stand to watch as they unearthed Tyke Index from his wrestling grave. The last time I seen someone buried alive was when my Uncle buried his mortal enemy. That man has stayed buried, the rumors are he will come to Mile High, but I don't believe them. When guys like Tyke Index are buried alive there is no place for Trademarks like Shane Trudex, the kind that smack their own face and scream at the camera, but in reality they are just really good at bleeding and shouting loudly.

I forgot about all that disappointment I felt as Raven patted me on the back told me what a good time the Battle Royal was. He talked for several hours about his future and what he thinks will come of it. I fold my arms over my chest and zone out listening to him. This is a newer Raven, he is taller, because he isn't slouching anymore, he has lost inches around his gut. His eyes are less dodgy and focused right on me, from here it seems married life is suiting him. He asks how I feel about fighting Tyke Index next?

I stop and think about it because I never thought I would get to or have to fight Tyke Index again. He has a problem with me the same way the stereotypical Dog hates a cat. I'm too busy to impress him or care what he thinks anymore, that was a few year ago. Robert Mack must think it will draw money, that hate he feels for me or he wouldn't book this match as a Headliner. As thought Raven senses I am tense he changes the subject and starts to brag about how he is fighting Finn Whelan and has no idea who he is. He is always so positive about every bout, some more intensively than others... I hope he never loses that. After that lunch the core of my body seems to be centered, for the first time I am facing what is right in front of me. I am facing perhaps my biggest rival in my solo debut for this company. There is a lot at stake in this match up, it is not just a fight to see who is better. "Somewhere around here people want to hear what I think about you Tyke, what emotions are steering inside of me going into this bout. I feel a sense of relief that it is someone I have faced before. A touch of panic because you were never an easy opponent. This is a stage we both want to out preform all others on. You ever feel like you just let me win when we fought for the Heavyweight title? I chased you and chased you and NOTHING I did seemed to matter you ALWAYS had an answer to keep me down. Well not anymore Tyke, those days are over. When I signed my name on that contract with Robert Mack the only thing I was thinking was surprising my Uncle, maybe in the process finally face the Samantha Hamilton I knew she could always be. The Titaness, that really took me back. I began to worry, was I living in the past too much? Perhaps I am SICK of being Sisyphus! In my daily prayers I would say give me something, show me a sign this is what must be done. I have to be on the right path? While meditating all I could center around was the inner struggle I have with how badly I want to return to the sport I love. YOU are that sign Tyke, this is MY MOMENT. I am doing the RIGHT thing, starting off the way stuff ended for me that seems like real justice.

I want everyone else in the federation to take notice of this match, take notice of the fight I take to Tyke Index. I can promise that I have gotten better with age, what about him?"

I feel my heart rate get faster, but my blood pressure is still calm like a still little pond. The only ripples that of insects or fish. My voice softens and I run my finger tips along my silky soft goatee before I continue. "I am very grateful for thing opportunity, to face someone I anticipate has evolved like I have. Why do we need to use words? You won't ever admit it out loud Tyke, but inside that ring is our nature. You and I are two animals of the same breed and that just ate away at you. The more you dished out in HcW the more I kept taking. Some things never change, I am not here for you... I am here for me. I am here to reconnect. I am here to win and be noticed. I am here to FIGHT."

Shoutbox

Admin: There's this too. We can turn this chatroom into a par-dookie! May 12, 2021 16:00:11 GMT -6

Admin: I'll be getting off of Twitter soon, and fully committing to EFedder within the next few days. If you haven't joined EFedder yet, you should. 💪💯💯 It's the greatest thing created for efedding in a long time. May 13, 2021 15:05:01 GMT -6

Admin: Note that the deadlines have changed. I made the change for the convenience of the other judges. May 17, 2021 15:21:30 GMT -6

Admin: Hope everyone is enjoying their 4th of July weekend/week/day! 💪💯💯 Jul 4, 2021 14:22:58 GMT -6

Admin: Noted. 💪💯💯 Jul 24, 2021 17:56:43 GMT -6

Admin: Where do yall hist photos? I'm thinking about switching sites, because I'm paying a monthly subscription for Photobucket and they got watermarks back on my images. I'm guessing it's a glitch or something, but it's already been two days. Aug 7, 2021 6:56:18 GMT -6

The Purge: I use Imgur - and I've never paid a cent for their services, and no water marks Aug 7, 2021 8:48:13 GMT -6

Deleted: o.o Lord, Rob! Get away from Photobucket ASAP! I’m with Haircin — use Imgur. It’s way better and costs nothing. Aug 8, 2021 16:28:35 GMT -6

Admin: I appreciate yall! ✊💯💯 Ima look into it this week. Apologies to everyone if some of the images for the show tonight have that Photobucket watermark. I didn't have the time today obviously to make any switches. But I will make time this week. 💯💯 Aug 8, 2021 17:43:04 GMT -6

Admin: Katrina will probably be happy too as she was just telling me I was crazy for paying monthly for a photo host. Lol. Aug 8, 2021 17:44:00 GMT -6

The Purge: We gotchu Aug 8, 2021 17:49:08 GMT -6

Admin: ***NOTE*** I moved the deadline up 12 hours to give the judges an extra day to read over the rps. Aug 10, 2021 15:29:37 GMT -6

Admin: Started messing with Imgur today and confirmed to myself that Imgur was the original photo host I was using for Season One and the beginning of Season Two of MHW. Something made me mad and thats when I switched to Photobucket. I don't remember what though. Aug 12, 2021 16:08:47 GMT -6

Admin: Ima still switch back to it though, because the Photobucker watermarks are still showing up on some images. Aug 12, 2021 16:09:19 GMT -6

Admin: ***Just A Reminder*** The new deadline is less than 24 hours away. 💪💯💯 Aug 20, 2021 9:45:58 GMT -6

cmosh: Marisol Vilaró is Spanish, she is from Spain Sept 14, 2021 22:50:17 GMT -6

Admin: Noted 💪💯💯 So I can get Rrina to teach me how to pronounce her name. Sept 15, 2021 15:35:32 GMT -6

cmosh: Don't worry I don't know how to pronounce it either. She is actually played by someone else, so it is sometimes hard to do RP's with them due to our work schelduce but I am alound to use the character over here Sept 15, 2021 19:28:12 GMT -6

Admin: Trying something different with the match writing, based off of research and just to try something new. It's a hit or miss concept, so feedback would be appreciated. ThrowDown will also debut the new layout concept. AMMO will start with that new layout... Sept 18, 2021 8:35:55 GMT -6

Admin: It happens, brudda! Sept 19, 2021 19:49:09 GMT -6

Tyke Index vs Scythe Bloodline

Post by Admin on Jun 10, 2019 7:41:33 GMT -6

Post by Deleted on Jun 10, 2019 16:50:47 GMT -6

Post by Deleted on Jun 16, 2019 15:01:04 GMT -6

Post by Deleted on Jun 17, 2019 15:39:01 GMT -6

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