North Sea Championship Ladder Match

[UKWF]

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

[Deleted]

“Former GPW World Champion Constance Chapin. Reigning FGA Mid-Atlantic Champion Salem Cartier. Former PWA Champion Cross Recoba...and me. Just me.”

It's a few days before UKWF's New Years Evolution and Alex Kincaid is feeling introspective. He sits on the hood of his car on an unseasonably warm day for January. He's dressed as casual as ever, in workboots, jeans and a grey zip up that looks like it is doing little to protect him from the cold. Thankfully, he's got his canadian blood to save him.

“You look at the write up on the website for the North Sea Championship match and there's this big list of what everyone has done. And for me? 'Journeyman Veteran Kincaid'. So that's cool. It both makes me sound like I'm a thousand years old AND like I've never done anything meaningful. Beautiful combination. You might think I'd be a little bit frustrated by it. When I came back to wrestling a few months ago, I told myself I was going to restart. I was going to build a new legacy here. But I just...I can't let this stand.

Cross Recoba and I nearly killed each other at Challenge of Champions. And a lot of that was personal. He's the kind of guy I'm always going to have trouble being in the same locker room with. But at the same time? We were two new, hungry guys looking to straight away make ourselves get noticed. And we fought harder than anyone thought possible. And at the end? I got it done. I pinned him. Middle of the ring.”

His expression darkens and he shuffles a bit on the hood of the car, uncomfortable and visibly annoyed.

“So why are we taking about his accolades and talking about me like I'm an also-ran? Since I walked into his company, I've been a bullet. I came in fast. I hit hard. And I made the kind of impact no one is going to forget. You can put whoever you want in that North Sea Championship mach. My career has followed this same beat over again. Show up, beat myself to death in some of the hardest matches on the card and then getting told I have to wait. Being told I have to pay dues. Being told that I'm just another guy right now.

I disagree. And I'm not a guy you want to have a disagreement with. Constance will be fine if she doesn't win this. She's got all the buzz in the world. Salem? She's got a belt right now. Cross? He's one of the golden boys of our new regime. Valkyrie? She's a war queen, an amazon, someone you take notice of right away. What I have is my wrestling. And on this roster? People are only going to care if you're number one...with a bullet.”

He hops off the hood of the car and then gets in. The camera pans off into the midday sun before slowly fading...to...black...

[chapin]

“I never thought I’d be here again.”

An overcast day sets the stage as Constance Chapin, she of the eternal frown, sits on a park bench as cars drive by, kicking up a bit of rain water as they go.

“Here, of course, having a double meaning. Here meaning this country. My homeland. The place of my birth. And here meaning the space between the ropes. The ring. The mat. The other cliched terms. Always go out on top, that’s what they tell you, and considering the recent events in my life I figured going out with accolades and titles to my name would be the full stop to the sentence that is my career.”

“And yet here I am, announcing not my retirement as I might have once expected but a return to the ring. The reasoning behind it is not important, what is important is that in my debut...if you discount my grand entrance, is smack dab in a title match. This surely comes a surprise to some but no one moreso than myself. A ladder match, even. Because what better way to crown a new champion than by staging a grand spectacle? On the surface, this match clearly favours someone who is not me.”

A car honks its horn and with it comes the shouting of a nearly-hit pedestrian crossing illegally.

”There’s a bit of a running gag with me. That being that I don’t care, that I can’t be arsed to find motivation unless it’s in very specific circumstances. I’d like to start by saying that of course this match is one I care about, and not for the obvious reason one might think. The title is a fine sprinkle, but for all intents and purposes this is my homecoming. My home country, the place I ran away from. It would be quite the embarrassment if I showed up only to decide that my time was better spent elsewhere.”

“And that is to say nothing of my opponents. The familiar faces. The unknown ones. I suspect at least two of them have been itching to get me in the ring and it’s just an unfortunate bit of scheduling that it comes with quite the massive stipulation. But fret not, good things come to those who wait.”

It is with quite the heavy sigh that Constance rises from the bench, her hands thrust deep into pockets of her jacket. The day was not getting any younger nor brighter.

”It’s a weird feeling, returning to what is essentially my roots. Weird but...good. I think, in time, this will be just what I needed after the whirlwind that has been my recent life. So for as much as I claim to loathe this country, or at least my home….it’s good to be back.”

“The question now is...which of my opponents is going to be the fakest-ass broad...because I’m certainly not one for being bored.”

[Valkyrie and Hana]

As the camera flickered to life, the ever present view of the Omega Academy logo emblazoned on the wall as The Great Dane Bitch stood before the camera.

“Gold has always been one of those things that has caused sane men to become violent, to break the laws of Gods and Men to acquire and use it. My ancestors journeyed across the North Sea and down the East coast of Great Britain hoping to trade. They got an uppity tax collector who thought them smugglers and left after killing him. Back across the North Sea, back to the homelands.”

Valkyrie smiled

“And a year later, they were back. Men and women, Viking society was truly equal for it's time as raiders would be both genders fighting and pillaging, taking back anything that they could carry. Loot, gold amongst it, silver, captives for slaves, they would hit hard and hit fast and England would live in terror until the descendants of the Vikings who settled in Northern France, the Normans, would kill King Harold and take over in 1066. Norman is Norseman in the French language... so Viking blood in the end took over England.

And that smile got bigger, the almost angelic face marked with a smile that wouldn't be out of place on a serial killer. All teeth, no warmth

“And in the twenty first century, almost a full millennium since Hastings, one of the last true followers of Odin Allfather now stands in battle against a woman from Manchester, one of the finest technicians I know, a guy who doesn't know the meaning of the word die who I've team with... and a guy who claims he's worth a thousand bullets who surprises me that he has enough brain function to actually breath in and out.”

“As of now, my eye is on the gold. I know full well there's a lot of talent, excluding New Managements representative who we all know thinks Stella should have handed him the belt on a platter, in this match. Ex champions in promotions from where they were. But where you are in UKWF is what is important. You could be Crown Prince Frederik and broadcast it, I would still knock you in the guts, wrench you upside down and drop you down on your head. Who you are elsewhere and who you were in the past is irrelevant right now. What you will be in the time they give us with a shitload of ladders is the moment we have. And I can treat this as a Viking raid. Hit hard, hit fast, get what I want, get out of there. I have my incentives to come away with the gold, and not just having the Inaugural Champion record to keep going.”

Valkyrie's slasher smile remained on her face.

“When that bell rings, may Odin and Freyja have places for you, for two of you deserve the honor, the other can go to Hel”

-static-

[Cross Recoba]

The scene opens as the cameraman opens a mahogany door. Recoba’s is seemingly in the middle of a diatribe.


“I don’t care what you have to do, Bruce, just get me out of my contract with Victory!”


Bruce seems an amiable fellow, his expression does not change from a friendly smile - as if this were just the latest in a series of outbursts.


“Why the rush?”


Recoba’s face shows the exasperation he is failing at hiding.


“I have the biggest match of the last year of my career coming up at New Year’s Evolution this weekend! I’m stepping into the ring with Kincaid, who is pretty much destined to be my bête noire in the UKWF, Valkyrie, a ‘woman’ who has a chip on her shoulder the size of a Corbyn gaffe, and Constance Chapin, who I don’t know anything about bar she’s coming into this match with A LOT of fanfare! I don’t need to be worrying about a contract that neither side is getting value from!”


Joblin stays silent knowing what’s coming.


“This is the main event! This match is my speciality, it’s a ladder match, it’s about creativity, it’s about innovation, but more importantly it’s about leaving the ring as the North Sea Champion! I’ve got Kincaid bringing up that he beat me before the New Year break, but crucially - he’s the least attractive winner to the UKWF marketing team. They talk about him how they do because compared to me, he’s bland, and what better way to get redemption than with a title at the end?”


Cross lights a cigarette in a move that finally sours Joblin’s face.


“Valkyrie, I’ve beaten her before and the smallest threat - after all, she apparently hates ladder matches. You might think that because your ancestors came over the North Sea and left with gold aplenty that you’ll be doing the same but the reality? she knows she’s not built for high-flying, that her arsenal doesn’t lend itself to the match. I’ll blow her a kiss from the final step…”


“Then we have the unknown quantity - a woman brought in by Kensington. You took apart Gav the Chav but big deal. Your timing seemed off- too rushed to realise that the Constance Clutch was too soon and then you showboat at the end? As an associate of Management I should probably give you a welcome party - how does a Staten Island Drop from the top of the ladder sound?”


Cross puts out his cigarette on the sole of his shoe and flicks it into a plant pot.


“So Bruce, get me out of my contract - that’s your skill, mine is going into a ladder match and knowing that I’ll walk out with the title, knowing that I’m undefeated in this type of match. Monday, I’m going to walk in here, you’re going to tell me you got me out of the deal before I even have time to drop the North Sea Title on this desk to announce my arrival! "

[Valkyrie and Hana]

“People have said a lot of stuff about me in the past. That I'm condescending, arrogant, have a chip on my shoulder.”

The screen opened up, Valkyrie was sitting before a tank, making adjustments to the décor within. A hollowed out log, material and a branch that ran the length and upward. Around the Dane's neck however, was a hint of a white and yellow tail that had disappeared down her t shirt.

“And they'd be right about me. Far as I'm concerned I'm always the best when I step into the ring and win or lose, in my head, I've won matches. Does it always play out? No, but ask any wrestler if they ever had a perfect career without wins or losses. Born in Denmark, trained in America with a British style and forged in Japan. Been one hell of a fucking journey to gain that level of confidence with someone I've faced in every match. I don't fly on the ropes. Ladders I got no problem with, last time I went into a ladder match, I was the one grabbing a briefcase of money, so I know a belt is easier to pull down.”

“Getting up there, I don't deny that won't be easy, but consider that one guy has Stella's approval and three of us don't, Cross, I'm sure I could gather enough of an alliance from Constance, one of the finest technical wrestlers the world has known, who you picked up as being foolish with her technique... That marks you as a fucking idiot more than anything if you don't think locking you in Hel's Gate is ever too early... Ask your balls and groin how that feels at any time when you're trapped in it!”

From under her sleeve, the snakes head appeared. Red eyes looking around, tongue flicking the air, the python slid down the Dane's arm into a box, having spotted a mouse running about trying to escape.

“But regardless of who you are in ring, at any time the tide can change in a heartbeat, doubly so when there's ladders involved. And that doubles again, snowballing when there's multiple opponents who will hit you in the back as soon as you hit some big move. It's a snake trap...”

And the python slid into the box, stalking the mouse which hadn't noticed the approaching reptile. Then lashing out, jaws snapping around the mouse as the python constricted, the mouse fought. And within minutes, the snake had killed the mouse and begun swallowing it whole.

“If anything can be learned from this lesson, is that the circumstance will swallow you whole if you let it. And if anything can also be taken is that Astrid here is likely the prettiest snake you'll lay eyes on... Because I plan on making sure that when I take the North Sea belt, it's kept out of Stella the serpents court”

And as the mouse tail vanished, the camera cut out...

[Deleted]

“So while Al Capone was in jail he cut the chow line. An inmate gives him shit about it right? Capone goes 'You know who I am?' and the inmate goes 'Yeah greaseball, and if you don't get to the back of the line I'm gonna know who you were.'”

Inside a tiny pub in Harlesden, Alex Kincaid sits alone at a table. It's the middle of the afternoon and he's already three drinks deep, looking irritated by the of the camera beside him. He adjusts in his seat, refusing to turn and face the camera but continuing speaking anyway.

“Of course he knew who Capone was. It's friggin' Al Capone. Everyone knew that guy. Capone was violent man. A nutcase with a syphilis rattled brain who spent the first six years of his career as a legbreaker for another gangster. He could have pieced that guy up. But he didn't. Because what he did before? Those fearsome acts? They didn't matter next to what could happen next. The future is always bearing down on you. Al understood that. You can talk about the history of everyone I'm going up against and they all know it doesn't matter once the bell rings.

Since I got to UKWF, my spectacle hasn't been about fear. But it's been a spectacle all the same. I hear a lot of talk about the last few months, about our expansion. And you know what? I'm proud of my involvement in that. I'm proud of being one of the anchors of this place. And I know – I know – on some level that when my opponents saw my name on the list for that ladder match they got a little bit worried.”

Now he pivots in his seat to look at the camera. Off in the background, a bell above the door jingles and he looks away for a second. When his attention snaps back to the camera his eyes narrow again.

“I want the championship for all that right reasons. Because if I get it, instantly it's a chance to matter here. A chance to be a standard bearer for new gold. All of that is as exciting as it gets to me. I talked a few days ago about my frustration at being overlooked and that hasn't gone away. But it's not of arrogance, it's because...it's because I will give whatever I have to give to be champion. I can't say that about everyone else in that match. Can you? Doing what I've done so far requires enormous sacrifice. And there's more sacrifices to come. And you know what? I'll make them gladly. For you. For this place. And if what it needs of me is another spectacle? Something else terrifying to earn that belt? Fine. I'll do it. And I'm not sure anyone else would.”

He turns away from the camera again and stares forward cooly, reaching for his beer. The camera slowly fades...to...black...