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 Posted: Mon Apr 21, 2014 9:28 pm
[This is the section where contracted wrestlers can interact and do their business. Whatever one would expect there to be in a backstage area, it can be found here. This thread will only be active during the Monday Massacre #10 show at the Intrust Bank Arena in Wichita, Kansas.
NOTE: This includes the General Manager's Office now.]
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Posted: Mon Apr 21, 2014 9:29 pm
[The Head of Talent Relations may be found and contacted in his office, as he is taking all meetings.]
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ProtoWolf 2.0 Vice Captain
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Posted: Mon Apr 21, 2014 10:27 pm
Eliza walked into the backstage area, not really happy wiht this card as she would have to face wiht her own husband. And he didn't seemd to look so good after his loss against Arson or even move at all. She just sighed and proceeded to look for a place to change into her in-ring gear.
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Posted: Mon Apr 21, 2014 10:44 pm
King sat at his fancy desk in the room the arena had furbished to act as his office that night. He was on his phone, in front of his Flip 13 Sony VAIO Laptop, quietly discussing things with an unknown party. He shook his head and pinched his nose with his free hand while looking aggravated with the scope of the conversation.
"No, you don't get it. A man can't just disappear like that. No, I know about Roanoke Island. Listen this isn't some missing link bullshit, this is a man." King paused as he listened to the other line continuing on at length. "What do you mean you think you might have a lead, either you have a lead or you don't have a lead, it can't be a thinking situation. Canada? What the ******** would he be doing in Bellingham, or CANADA for that matter?"
King paused and looked at his phone, not even listening to the man on the line currently, squinting at his phone and making a disgusted noise. The kind of noise a person makes when they're so sick of someone's stupidity that they're ready to just dismiss them entirely. "Okay, shut up Vince, I have a call on the other line. Just tell Karen to follow the lead and make Delta move further south. Okay. Yeah. Keep me updated."
2.0 shook his head. "******** retarded midget a*****e. Useless rejects." He muttered and then clicked the button his phone to answer the second line.
"Yeah. Yeah this is him. Uh yeah, I need someone to come down to the arena and get rid of all these ******** birds please."
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ProtoWolf 2.0 Vice Captain
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Posted: Tue Apr 22, 2014 9:25 am
Matthias is seem walking from the garage in to the backstage area, a visible smirk on his face as opposed to the scowl he wore last week. Though the smile didnt make anyone more comfortable around him, he was clearly disturbed. Tonight, he planned on making his impact, so large everyone would feel it.
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Posted: Tue Apr 22, 2014 10:02 am
Achieving the win last week against Leroy Brown was, bittersweet. To say the least. Damon Pierce didn't feel accomplished by it and felt there was a lot of pieces to the match missing. He felt as if he could have given more moves a shot and proved his power through better reversals or submissions. The ending of the match overall wasn't what he had expected, especially given that so much was riding on that win. Hence why Damon didn't accept a raise of the hand from the ref or even gave the crowd a worthwhile victory celebration or taunt. No. As soon as the match was over, Damon rolled out of the ring with his hands on his hips and a mild visual of Damon shaking his head in disappointment. He had nothing to be disappointing in, seeing as he won that match. But internally, it wasn't satisfying. It wasn't enough to make him feel accomplished. It wasn't enough that gave him a sense of pride or joy. Shanahan made the match specifically for Damon and Leroy. As much as the match was held, it felt broken overall.
Damon had been walking through the hallways of the backstage area for awhile. From the waist down, he was wearing his wrestling gear. From the waist up, he was simply wearing a crisp, clean white t-shirt with a black hoodie worn over it. His hands wore his fingerless grappling gloves on, but Damon wasn't feeling too up to par. He wasn't particularly feeling like wearing his wrestling gear until it was half an hour until his match with Dion where he would be practically forced to get ready. In his right hand held a water bottle which he had been taking occasional sips from just to cool himself down. The backstage area had a nice chill to it due to the stone and concrete flooring as well as the openness of it all. But that wasn't Damon's aim. His aim right now was to go to Shanahan's office and discuss what happened last week, as well as the plans and hype for the match with Dion later on tonight. Normally Damon would think about cutting a promo. But seeing as his win last week felt lackluster, it wouldn't do Damon really any justice.
While Damon walked the hallways, his face took no tone of positivity or show of kindness to others. His eyes searched around the hallways as other wrestlers and backstage crew passed on by. New talent with smirks on their faces and divas looking as if they were trying to find things themselves. Damon passed them on by without a nod of his head or a word of acknowledgement. Instead, Damon kept a rather tight clutch on his water bottle and his posture straightened while searching the backstage for Shanahan's office. It didn't take long to find the office, but at least he had time to process things in his head before he would approach the door of Shanahan's office with Shanahan's name attached to the door plaque. Damon would lean against the door frame of the closed door and use the back of his knuckles to knock three times on Shanahan's door. Three times was enough to get the guys attention he felt, and Damon would simply keep his ears attentive either way. Just in case Shanahan was too busy to talk.
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Posted: Tue Apr 22, 2014 2:37 pm
The General Manager sat back in his cushy leather chair, his eyes closed behind the classic aviators he seemed to wear most of the time. The card was booked, the show was underway, and he could relax for the res-
-Knock, knock, knock-
... Rest? I mean attend to business. A quiet sigh left his lips as he sat up in his chair, gaining a professional sitting position while calling out, "Yeah, yeah. It's open."
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Posted: Tue Apr 22, 2014 3:13 pm
Yeah, yeah. It's open. Good. As Damon had taken his time to listen in to any noise or ambiance being heard behind the door, the sound of Shanahan's voice was good enough. The same voice that would allow Damon entry to Shanahan's office which upon opening, seemed to be rather empty. Even better. Damon wanted to have a face to face conversation with his boss. No one that involved Dion or some other guy standing in the corner. Damon had closed the door regularly and walked over to one of the two seats angled in front of Shanahan's desk. He placed both hands on the corner of each chair accordingly, looked down for a moment, then looked back up at Shanahan as he was processing what to say exactly. There wasn't much of an excuse he could use for the result of last weeks match, which he didn't even feel he deserved to win. He wanted to know what happened and why it ended as it did. But he also wanted to get Shanahan's comments on the Last Man Standing match Damon would have later on.
"I have no excuse for what happened last week. I arrived in your office two weeks ago, giving you the idea of having you choose whatever match you'd like to see Leroy and I in. With that being said, your enforcer additionally added a stipulation to that match that if I were to win, I would face him tonight in his specialty match. A match that he's never lost and a match that as far as I know, it's the highest honor Dion could give someone right next to a handshake or his respect". Damon would now take his hands off of the chairs and seat himself in the left chair with his body leaned over. Elbows resting on his kneecaps and hands loosely hung at a downwards slant. "Last week you put Leroy and I in a Tables Match. A match you single handedly determined would be worthy of Leroy and I's showdown. I'm not proud of my match last week and I want to ask you, what happened. That finish. How it ended. What happened. I also want to own up to the predicament and swallow my pride here, and apologize to you directly".
Apologizing wasn't something that Damon would easily be seen doing, seeing as he carried himself so roughly and intimidatingly. The fact that he wasn't proud of the match and he was admitting that to his boss, yeah. Damon had no shame in admitting it. Should there have been others in the room, his explanation would have been reworded to not make him appear so, disappointing. However, seeing as it was just him and Shanahan? What did he have to worry about. "You put me in that match expecting results. After my debut, I had momentum. I could talk the talk over social media. I proved my dominance in my debut that ended in a double knockout and a ride on a gurney. I don't feel like I earned the Last Man Standing match tonight, but I'm gonna' give it my all anyway. Which brings me to my next question". Damon would lean up in his seated position and now rest his back on the cushion behind him. Scooting himself back further against the chair comfortably. His arms now rested on the arm rests of the seat and he was feeling gutsy.
"Tonight, I face your 'Enforcer', Dion, in a match that Dion's never lost. Remind me again just how high the stakes are in this match if I were to win, and if I were to lose. Don't get me wrong, I intend to bring everything in my disposal to Dion and make this match far more brutal than my debut. But I can't help thinking.. If I do win this match. If I do happen to pull off that upset win and shock the BBW audience.. what does that make me? I'm three matches into my BBW career and already feel like I've been given opportunities that others haven't earned in their rookie starts. I feel as if I've been given a ball to run with and a goal to achieve that hasn't been passed around or bestowed upon just anybody. I told you from the start and I'll tell you again. When I signed my name on that contract, I wasn't here for the money or the titles. I was here to etch my name in BBW history and do everything I can to earn you ratings and viewers. No matter if I have a fan base or not, It doesn't matter. My intentions are clear. I wanna' know your thoughts".
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Posted: Tue Apr 22, 2014 3:53 pm
Dion had passed by the GM's office numerous times while on the phone with a close associate. He overheard Damon talking about his opportunity, regretting how his match with Leroy turned out, and wondering where that set him.
"Hey, Benny...I'm gonna have to call you back...let me know when the paperwork is finalized," he said, hanging up. He stood next to the door, listening intently.
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Posted: Tue Apr 22, 2014 8:13 pm
Resting his head on his fists was the consistently-thinking Suplex Shooter, looking blankly into the wall in front of him as he sat on a folded chair against the tiled bricks parallel from what was in his vision. It was almost as though he was daydreaming, becoming lost in possibilities and unknown variables with their even more ambiguous conclusions. Nihilism was a disease that broke out all of AJ's face once in a while like a bad case of the forever itch. What happened to the Warner of old? Why had he had such an empty feeling sickening his stomach like he had failed to achieve something so dire to his career being labeled as successful? How could these unanswered questions be overcoming him now? He had just completed his mission of dethroning someone he and his colleagues wanted stripped of pride. But what had it made AJ? The angst and confusion that had always found a way to fester within him had made him look for his only resolution in the physical and mental position he was in; a Marlboro 83 kissed him on the lips, and like everything else Warner had loved, he had set it ablaze and watched it burn only inches away from his fingertips.
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Posted: Tue Apr 22, 2014 8:24 pm
Andrew James Warner I was bored, saw ya here, so I thought why not. As the man known as AJ Warner wallowed in his questionable despair, a spry young man walked behind him, seeing as how he was in a secluded area of the hallway. The moment he noticed the smoke of a cigarrette, the young man halted and soon tapped his shoulders. "Didn't think I'd see a Malboro cigarette make its way behind closed walls here." It was obvious by his appearance that he was new here, but something about this young man didn't... feel right. "Name's Nicholai, also rhymes with Brightest guy." He joked as he soon patted the shoulder of Mr. Warner. "What's got ya so down and puffing?"
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Posted: Tue Apr 22, 2014 8:30 pm
AJ looked up at the young man, unable to tell whether Nicholai was annoyed by the cigarette or using it simply to start conversation. The cheesiness of the brightest guy comment would rub him the wrong way on any given tonight, but the Shooter was too deep into his haunting thoughts and cursed nostalgia. Warner wasn't in the confrontational mood he was usually in, so he was open to the idea of talking to the kid. Not being too open with this random stranger was detrimental to AJ for irrational reasons, but he would do his best to explain the words he had wished to share. He took another long drag of the cigarette before sighing and patting the vacant chair next to him. "Nicholai... take a seat."
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Posted: Tue Apr 22, 2014 8:37 pm
"Wish I could take a seat, but then that'd be stealing from the company." Nicholai told the man as another bad joke before he opened a chair and sat down beside AJ. "I can see why you like this area... so secluded... so silent..." Nicholai spoke as he soon laughed a bit, keeping his ears open for his match to start as there were a few going on prior to his match. "So... what kind of a malboro are you smoking there buddy? The only kind I tend to see are Red Full Flavor 100s."
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Posted: Tue Apr 22, 2014 8:50 pm
Another bad joke, another sigh. AJ ashed the cigarette in front of him and without answering verbally, pulled out the half-empty pack with an extended cigarette to offer him one. "Kid... I admire you for asking questions. But there's too many people who ask the wrong ones. These? This pack? Means nothing to me. The only things that matter, kid, are the things that have been outside my control. But maybe they aren't. Drug dependence, the title of transitional champion, the lack of appreciation I get around here... you gotta get through it sometimes. Just continue to improve, understand bad times are coming time and time again, and unless you handle it better than I did... you'll be a crippled old man in twenty years fantasizing about what could've been. Like a failed baseball player trying to force his son to start swinging early... that's exactly what I've become, Nicholai. Don't be me. Don't be an AJ Warner. It never works out for the best."
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