The following contest is a Wargames match! Introducing first....
Quick Rules rundown: "1 on 1 for 2 pages, with alternating team members entering every page afterward Coin flip determines which team will have the numbers advantage until the last man enters match doesn't end until all competitors have entered the match, and once all are present, the match only ends when one person gets KO'd or submits."
Basically, in an attempt to make this run smoothly, every member of the teams shall be given a number to begin with as well which team shall have the number advantage, which will also be determined via dice roll.
Team WWF:G: Evens Hiro-2 Draze-4 Jaws-6 Ikki Makunouchi-8 Trent-10
Team Sinister Syndicate: Odds Major Devastation-1 J.W. Caliber-3 Bernhard Rosenthal-5 Chrono Clepsydra-7 Yukari Clepsydra-9
The lights in the arena went dark as a heavy drum beat hit the PA system, which was soon joined by the driving bass line of Manowar's Warriors of the World. Once the bass line began, the stage itself began to glow from within with a pulsing red and gold light, and a single spotlight began to shine upward from the center of the stage as the guitar screamed. A silhouette soon started to become visible, slowly raising from under the stage. When the lift stopped, the illumination in the arena returned and red and gold mood lighting took over, revealing someone who hadn't been seen in WWF:G in over 3 years, Major Devastation, standing in the center of the stage.
The Devil Dog thrust both hands into the air, making the TOO SWEET gesture that the Sinister Syndicate was so fond of and gave a mighty roar, causing his familiar pyro to erupt around him as chants of "TOO SWEET" and "GET SHOT" filled the air. Major paused to take in the massive reaction to his return that ranged from a raucous ovation from the hardcore, smarky fans and those who nostalgically remember the red-hot rookie who ran roughshod over WWF:G as the Intercontinental Champion, to a small, but vocal, minority of jeers from those who despised the Master of Disaster's general demeanor of late or the fact that his return was intended to be for the sole purpose of disrupting the status quo as Freakshow's hired gun. Finally he began to make his way down the ramp, exuding both confidence and arrogance as he mostly ignored the members of the audience.
MANY STAND AGAINST US, BUT THEY WILL NEVER WIN! WE SAID WE WOULD RETURN, AND HERE WE ARE AGAIN TO BRING THEM ALL DESTRUCTION, SUFFERING AND PAIN WE ARE THE HAMMER OF THE GODS! WE ARE THUNDER, WIND AND RAIN!
THERE THEY WAIT IN FEAR WITH SWORDS IN FEEBLE HANDS WITH DREAMS TO BE A KING, FIRST, ONE SHOULD BE A MAN! I CALL THEM OUT AND CHARGE THEM ALL WITH A LIFE THAT IS A LIE AND IN THEIR FINAL HOUR, THEY SHALL CONFESS BEFORE THEY DIE!
"Introducing first, representing the Sinister Syndicate...from San Antonio, Texas, he weighs in at 295 pounds. He is the MASTER OF DISASTER, MAJOR DEVASTATION!!!"
As he reached the ringside area, he tested the massive steel cage that surrounded the entire two ring setup. After making a full lap around the structure so that all at ringside could bask in the greatness that was Destruction Incarnate, Devastation finally ascended the steel steps and entered the cage door. Once in the ring, Major quickly scaled the turnbuckles and began to taunt the crowd as he awaited the first member of Team WWF:G.
BROTHERS EVERYWHERE RAISE YOUR HANDS INTO THE AIR! WE'RE WARRIORS! WARRIORS OF THE WORLD! LIKE THUNDER FROM THE SKY SWORN TO FIGHT AND DIE! WE'RE WARRIORS! WARRIORS OF THE WORLD!
Posted: Mon Nov 30, 2015 10:19 am
Following behind closely with a clipboard in his hand and a whistle in his mouth is the coach and one of the principle financiers of the Sinister Syndicate. While the stakes of the war had grown larger than Freak had ever imagined or intended it was his political maneuvering that had a large part in assembling much of the team. With the added combustible elements of the Clepsydra's, his ex-employers and on again off again business partners, the battle for WWFG had taken a new dimension entirely. A capitalist first and foremost Freak was a war profiteer, allocating his recently diminished but still bountiful resources into a very high risk investment. All his chips were down. The Clepsydras, on the other hand, as Freak knew it, played for power rather than money. Freak appropo of the Marauders sought to drain WWFG of dry it's resources leaving it a withered husk, raising questions as to how this lecherous approach could potentially conflict with Chrono and Yuke's traditionally long term goals of sustainable absolute control. But more importantly, unlike the Sharpshooter contingency, they were not on his payroll.
Adjusting his conspicuously combed hair which had grown back at an alarming rate following his hair vs hair match against Mad Dog McLennnon, the manager remains outside of the ring looking up at the heavy hitter of his team Major Devastation. Turning around he mugs for the ringside camera "There he is baby! 295 lbs of TEXAS STEEL! That's right chico, HEAVY ARTILLERY!" Cocking an invisible shotgun Freak fires at the cameraman while blowing into his whistle loudly turning his cheeks bright red.
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Posted: Mon Nov 30, 2015 1:18 pm
All the lights go out in the arena as the opening of Lamb of God - Still Echoes comes onto the PA system. Once Randy Blythe is heard screaming,out from the back comes Draze ready for a fight as the crowd has come unglued!
"A thousand heads cut clean across their necks right down the hall from me. The reich's relentless blade, thirsty and shining red still echoes of their screams."
Draze then marches down the ramp ready for a fight.
"This is a tarnished heirloom, passed down through iron fists A shameful house of doom, a legacy of collapse. Built on a painful truth."
Draze then makes it to the ring as he removes his cloak and shirt before hopping up onto the apron.
"A thousand years of failure, a thousand years they bled. To the bear, the blitzkrieg, and the holy father. They just bowed their heads."
"From Nashville, Tennessee, weighing in at 275 pounds, The Dragons Haze... DRRAAAZZZZEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!""
Draze makes his way into the ring, ready for the big match he has right now at this moment against a huge opposition!
Posted: Tue Dec 01, 2015 9:00 am
The Master of Disaster had a look on his face that screamed "What the ********?" when Draze somehow phased through the steel cage that surrounded the two ring setup. Regardless, once both men were inside the structure, the cage door was locked and the bell sounded. It's go time!
Once the match was officially underway, Major Devastation would look to start things off with an old-school test of strength...of course, if it were accepted, the Devil Dog would quickly attempt to deliver a boot to the gut, instead.
Draze is suckered by the kick and he takes a step backwards, holding his gut. But upon stepping forwards into the vicinity of Major D, Draze looks to retort so to speak with his own boot going up towards, Major's chest region. If successful in booting him down to the canvas, Draze will then try for a drop kick to Major's Groin! If the kick only staggers Major and he doesn't fall however, Draze will try spearing Major into the nearby corner!
Posted: Thu Dec 03, 2015 11:27 am
Major Devastation and Draze had something of a history with one another, which made Draze's response to the surprise boot somewhat...predictable. The Bunker Buster Brute would try to catch the incoming boot before it could connect, with the intention of attempting to toss his opponent into the cage wall with a Leg Trap Overhead Belly-to-Belly Suplex if he was successful.
Well Major seems to have brought his A Game tonight! Draze is caught in the leg trap and has to think fast. He starts slinging elbows towards the Marine Corps Mauler's nose and eyes to try disorienting him enough so the grip will be broken. If Draze can escape Major's suplex, the Dragons Haze will try for a dropkick at MD's left knee!
Posted: Sat Dec 05, 2015 10:13 am
Right as Major had gotten his opponent into position to launch, Draze started trying to elbow him in the face. Due to the extremely close range and awkward positioning, the elbows themselves didn't pack a whole lot of punch...although the squirming made it hard enough for the Jarhead Juggernaut to keep his grip, which prompted him to change his plans a bit. If he couldn't throw Draze into the cage as planned, Devastation would instead try to send his opponent spine first to the mat by sweeping his free leg while simultaneously shoving him back.
Draze is shoved back first into the canvas courtesy of MD's leg sweep. But as Draze is shoved off of Major he realizes he has a free foot, That he launches upwards to Major's groin! If Draze can connect with low blow, Draze will try shoving Major away with both feet!
Posted: Mon Dec 07, 2015 1:48 pm
Draze's foot hit Major square in the junk, but the only reaction from the Master of Disaster was a primal roar as he flexed, displaying the Power of the p***s! Considering how certain members of Team WWF:G seem to like playing with other guys' junk, despite supposedly being babyfaces, that Midnight Marauders "Balls of Steel" seminar with guest speaker Joey Ryan really paid off!
((Dude, you keep either countering or just plain no selling..... What the hell?))
Draze seems quite surprised at Major's immunity to the ball shot. But hey, maybe he gets it on a consistent basis. But either way, Draze has no time to dwell on it. The Dragons Haze now goes for a kick with his heel towards Major's right kneecap!
Posted: Wed Dec 09, 2015 12:03 pm
Freakshow stood in complete awe of the spectacle before him. In this hellish structure neither of these men knew the definition of the word pain. Neither Major nor Draze would give an inch knowing the chips that were at play here. Two mastadons. Two bulls. Two cages. Two rings. The immovable force and the unstoppable object. Within minutes of the competition both competitors had shown a strength and resolve that defied all logical understanding of what it means to be an in ring competitor. That's because War Games defies rationality. This wasn't a wrestling match. This was something more. Something better. In this chain linked hellscape we have access to something real. Something authentic. When you kick a man in the groin he screams in pain. When you do the very same in War Games you establish a conduit between a competitor and his inner beast. The monster that can only truly be channeled through Satans architecture. Two cages. Two rings.
It is in War Games where dreams turn to nightmares. Where boys turn to men. Where careers come to die and legends are born. Where a kick to the gut becomes a kick to the chest and a kick to the chest and a drop kick to the balls. Why? The structures does not ask why. It is cold. Indifferent. A microcosm of the Godless universe inhabited by the wretched souls who for only a moment find ecstasy in the orgy of each others blood. The punchline was that this, this was only the very beginning. That's what War Games is. A sick cosmic joke. A grotesque gag reel. A glimpse into the hearts of our darkest desires of which simultaneously we cannot help but glare in wide eyed wonder even as we retch at it's inhumanity. As the orchestrator of this tragic theater gazes long into the abyss he finds that the abyss gazes into him. This is the absolute spirit of Strong Style. Two Rings. Two Cages.
JBL: That's what I like to see, you're never too old to learn, top notch guy that guy is. You know he's the longest reigning Intercontinental Champion in WWFG history? It's only a matter of time before he wrecks the place up and shows the world just what this Sinister Syndicate is all about!
