Arcane v Storm

[UKWF]

Post your RPs for the match below. 2 RP cap, max. 500 words per RP.

[Arcane]

Fade in. The imposing figure of Arcane is skulking in the shadows of a tower block in Northwest London. It stretches up into the sky, the sun slowly setting in the distance, bathing the scene in the hue of dusk. He pulls back a hooded top to reveal dark, sunken eyes, albeit with a glint of madness, and deftly lights a cigarette.

Insomnia is a curse; the waking brain races, sampling the world long after the world has turned away, refusing to settle.

Likely stricken with delirium, I'll eventually reach a point of timeless, impregnable focus. It's as if my mind cannot process the layers and complexities of life, instead drawing back to something primitive deep within the inner psyche. Lately, it's been violence; my consciousness leads me through the same blood-soaked vision.

On the surface, we aren't so different, Mr. Storm - if that is your real name.

We both come from broken neighborhoods. You struggled to make sense of a misspent youth in Brooklyn, while I did the same here in the slums of London.

It's strange how both are now under threat from an insidious gentrification; rustic barbers, cereal cafes and so on. The rent goes up, wages stay the same and the underclass is essentially priced out of their own homes. Now as per usual, I've done my research, and there is something fishy about you, Mr. Storm.

If I recall correctly, you were lost to the street at the tender age of twelve, and then just four years later, you were checked into a rehabilitation clinic for drug addiction. I don't know your poison; white, brown, whatever. You were sucking on that glass cock - just another waster - and that's the key difference between us.

While I was working through the night pushing weight on the corners, you were shuffling round Brooklyn counting change for a hit. You were a victim then, and you're a victim now. It's the addict state of mind - weak and fragile. You can't handle this cold world without the warmth of a dirty needle in your arm, bending your miserable reality into something more palatable. Everyone knows you can't trust a smack-head, and the more I read into your story, the less sense it makes.

You were neglected during these formative years, and while I turned to the trap gods for my salvation, you found yours in crack vials. When your father realized he could make a little money off your "talent", you fell back into his arms, even though he let you wander the streets. Is that not utterly disgraceful?

Regardless, your feckless father met a tragic end, and I'm sure you miss him terribly.

But you never know, Mr. Storm, you might see him again real soon...

With a wink, Arcane chuckles to himself and strolls back into the shadows of the looming tower.

[Mark Storm]

"NORMAL PEOPLE SCARE ME." 

By Eric Wilde. 

16/09/2016 - 22:45PM

I've always been a massive fan of Mark Storm. I've been following the man's career ever since his explosion onto the scene from the independents in early 2015, and ever since then I became hooked to the self proclaimed reckoning of professional wrestling. He's become somewhat of a juggernaut in this day and age of professional wrestling, managing to find himself compete in a variety of promotions across the world; with his work garnering critical acclaim from wrestling fans and critics alike.

"Normal people scare me!", that's the statement that stuck with me the most when I met up with Mark Storm earlier on this week, to discuss how his career is going down in the United Kingdom. And he said it so convincingly, with so much conviction to the extent where I actually ended up believing him. "Normal people are content with average. They're okay with their lives being a nine to five, and okay with someone telling them what to do - and not really tapping into their creative minds." He pointed out before taking a sip out of his star bucks cup and crossing one leg over the other. I mean, it's no secret that the man himself is far from normal. Anyone who sacrifices their body, soul and heart on such a regular basis can't be normal. 

Unorthodox, that's probably the best word to describe him. And there is literally, no one else like him, and he prides himself on that. "They'll never be another Mark Storm", he stated with confidence before continuing with; "you can go all over the world, and you'll find copy-cats and a bunch of pretenders. I'm the real deal." Something about the way he spoke latched onto me, and I never wanted him to stop. Mark would then talk about how in this wrestling industry, coming across authentic characters was a rarity, and coming across something different to the norm was also rare but he'd found someone rare in his upcoming opponent, Arcane. 

"He's been to prison, he's someone - like me, that wasn't born with riches but had to fight his way to that life. He did it through criminality at first, and I've had my bump with the law but managed to find my way back on track. I think we have a lot of similarities. I think this guy is also the real deal." It was evident that Mark had no quarrel or any beef with his upcoming opponent, and unlike other opponents, he wasn't willing to bury him with a series of insults and disrespect. But Mark had heard about the words spoken by Arcane in a promo message, and that too hadn't any impact on him. "He's done his research. No shame in that, bringing up the past is all apart of the job, right? But if you're gonna bring up the past, you may as well bring up what I've done in this industry. Because all of that, it speaks for itself."

[Mark Storm]

"Your Hero, and Mine."

That's what the world has painted me as, a hero. And I used to neglect that statement, playing on the belief that heroes do no exist as this is not a world of comic books, and Gotham city, and masked vigilantes saving the day. But no, I rather like the moniker. It's a title that has been given to me on so many occasions, that it's actually beginning to grow on me. So whatever, I'll take it on the chin and I'll run with it.  

"I am your hero, and I am mine."

And in this story between you and I, Arcane, that's what I am, right? That's who you want me to portray, right? The hero. Because you're such a bad guy aren't you? And I'm not even joking around when I say that buddy, it's well documented that you're part of the scum of the world. You're a criminal, aren't you? A criminal who hasn't truly moved on from the past, because your past is slowly catching up with you. And really, as much as we want to, we can't hide or run away from our past, but only embrace it. And you're right. I am an addict. Always have been and always will be, however - my source of addiction has changed through the years. I was a naive teen addicted to the herbal life but that, that has changed. I'm now addicted to professional wrestling, and that's something that hasn't stopped since I started this business. 

"You caught me! Fuck, what am I going to do!" 

You've got me all figured out now, haven't you? Because I'm an addict, that makes me weak and fragile, so easy for you to break me down inside that ring? You're misunderstood, Arcane. You see statistically speaking those brought up in environment like you and I, who experience what I've gone through - they're not supposed to make it here, they're not supposed to be successful. I'm not supposed to be here right now, Arcane. My environment, was built so that I can fall, but I didn't, whilst many others around me fell to the rubble that came crashing down, I didn't. I'm still here doing whatever I can to be the best in my profession. That life of drugs, and rock and roll... that's over. That guy.. he's dead, just like my father; that you so subtly brought up. 

"We all have our weaknesses!"

And for many of us, it's our past - but not for me. I'm proud of my past, it's what makes us who we are. We can't choose where we come from Arcane, but we can choose where we go from there. And I'm choosing to go to the very top of the wrestling industry. I'm choosing to be the most successful motherfucker to ever do this shit!

"What about you?"

On Sunday night, you and I, we got a two way ticket to hell. That's where I intend on taking you.

[Arcane]

With Ultimate Challenge fast approaching, I want to address my employer, Miss Chalmers-Blythe, directly.

This isn't just a match for me - not with you watching - and I implore you to do so with the utmost concentration. You'll find a spectacle; a beautiful, repugnant exercise in emasculation. Please just watch me - I'll paint the canvas with his blood.

See, we're on a level, Miss, and it's kinda funny, right?

You come from a lineage of luxury and privilege, while I've somehow stumbled out the gutter into something special. I've always struggled with the lottery of life; how can one child suffer with dysentery from birth while another eats from a silver spoon? I should despise you... but... but I can't.

The sport of professional wrestling attracts the retrograde like moths to a flame.

They seek validation without thought, but despite my tainted background, you know I'm different. I've dragged myself out of abject poverty, out of mindless inadequacy. I'm not cut from the same cloth as Mr. Storm. He plays with his lexicon but lonely school boy poetry is the extent of its shallow depth.

It's not just about rhetoric; I undertake physicality with the same cerebral approach. There is always a bespoke strategy for each opponent. Some of these kids know a thousand holds, countless reversals and have the athletic ability to fling themselves across the ring like human missiles, but what's the point?

Every action should have a purpose, every purpose an explanation.

Mr. Storm doesn't know what he's doing now, what he's doing next or why he's even doing it.

We're not like that, Miss. We have... we have a connection.

We're several steps ahead but we always have a contingency plan. I've got one for Ultimate Challenge, just you wait and see...



But anyway, Mr. Storm, relax... I know your resumé.

As you said, I've done my research, but I'm not going to reel off every championship you've held throughout the independent scene. We've never fought before, and so as far as I'm concerned, you're unproven. Yes, that's right. Your prior glory remains redundant until you validate it here. I need to check your hood pass, son.

Don't live off your reputation, cultivate it, weave your name throughout the tapestry of UKWF.

Well... try and rebuild what I leave in tatters!