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Post by UKWF on Apr 28, 2017 18:41:35 GMT
Post your RPs for the match below. 2 RP cap, max. 500 words per RP.
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Post by Kelsey Spencer on May 2, 2017 13:47:31 GMT
Doubts.
My head’s full of them.
It’s not something I’m experiencing for the first time. I’ve had them my whole life, if I’m being perfectly honest. From the moment I could form words in my mouth, I’ve always struggled to believe a single positive thought I’ve had about myself is real. I know what I can do between those ropes; since my arrival, I can say with confidence a good majority of the UKWF locker room does, too.
But, no matter how hard I push forward, there’s always that voice in the back of my mind that still whispers “What if..?” What if I wake up one day, and I’m not as good as I used to be? What if the world’s passed me by?
What if I just can’t do it..?
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Motivation.
It’s such an aggravation.
The myth that I’m a failure was instilled in me at a young age by the very people I was told would be my biggest supporters. For a great deal of time, that controlled every aspect of my life; I hated myself because I was conditioned to believe that I was utterly worthless. How can one be expected to believe in themselves when they don’t even value their own self-worth?
There’s only one option: move on. People will tear you down when you attempt to become something they could never even aspire be. More often than not, that’s much easier said than done; finding that source of motivation can be challenging. But something I recently discovered is every time I wrestle, I feel myself improving a little bit more. Every opponent brings a new challenge, I’m constantly learning something new; I borrow moves or mannerisms, I add to my own arsenal.
Every win builds my confidence just a little bit more.
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Regrets.
I’ve never really had any of those.
Every time I step out from behind that curtain, I hold nothing back. I can’t give any less than 110%; there’s nothing less than full throttle for me. I can’t look back on my career and say that I regret anything I’ve done, because I’ve done it all with pride and integrity.
Every choice I've ever made was the right decision to make in that moment. I used to have thoughts of “what if I tried a snapmare instead of a hurricanrana… could I have won?” That's not a healthy mindset. One changed move could alter everything; to go back and make a different decision could mean I may not be where I am today. I wouldn't want that.
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Championships.
I know I can win them.
2016 was a title drought for me, but now I'm holding onto two championships I cherish abidingly. Through nothing but hard work and determination, I earned these straps that I carry with pride.
I'm on the run of my career right now; I'm in my prime. Regardless of my doubts, I'm more motivated than ever before.
I regret nothing.
...
I will become Broadcast Champion.
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Post by Kelsey Spencer on May 2, 2017 13:53:38 GMT
Our scene opens to a shot of Kelsey in her apartment. Dressed in her workout gear with a championship belt resting on each shoulder, she gives the camera a welcoming smile.
“If there's one thing I'm good at these days, it's making the most of every opportunity,” she speaks, as her smile softens into a neutral expression. “I've got a golden opportunity coming up on May 9, but I wanna talk about a couple of the other opportunities I've seized recently.”
She subtly motions to the pristine gold belt sitting on her right shoulder.
“This is the NOVA Victorian Tag Team Championship; a title I proudly hold with my Uncanny Socialites teammate, Rebecca Saint. We weren’t taken seriously in NOVA Wrestling’s tag team division; the champions arrogantly offered to put their titles on the line in our match, just to try and humiliate us. It failed - we made the most of the opportunity we were given, and walked out with the gold.”
Her attention turns to the beautiful bronze title draped proudly over her left shoulder.
“And this is the IYH Proving Grounds Championship,” she explains with a prideful grin. “Not only did I earn my chance to compete for this title, I beat the champion later that same night to win it - nothing was gonna stop me from making a statement.
See, everywhere I go, people take one look at me and they instantly discredit me. Nate Krelle did it, and look what happened there. Rayne Young was convinced he’d breeze past me last week and be next in line for a title shot. But he’s not; I am.”
She carefully places both championship belts on a bookshelf, right by a photograph of herself and her mother taken several years ago. It should be quite clear to even the most unacquainted individual that these are very treasured possessions.
After ensuring her titles are secure, Kelsey turns back to the camera.
“I’ve been keeping up with your title reign so far, James, and after seeing what you’ve gone through to hold onto it, I can see how much the Broadcast Title means to you.
But you’ve gotta understand one thing, Mr Edwards: I’m nothing like your first three challengers. Kelly Garrett, Ace Watson, Marcus LeVine… They all had one thing in common: They all underestimated you, and that’s a mistake you’ll never see me make. Your ring work speaks for itself, three successful defenses doesn’t happen by chance. I understand you’re not here accidentally… And I hope you can see that I’m not, either.
I’m gonna give you the fight of your career, James, because I want that Broadcast Championship around my waist and on my resume. Hopefully by now - looking at these beautiful titles behind me - you realise that once I’m focused on a goal, I’ll never stop until I achieve it.
I may be walking into All Killer, No Filler as the challenger, but I’ve got no intention of leaving Norfolk without the UKWF Broadcast Championship.”
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Post by James Edwards on May 5, 2017 6:41:39 GMT
Glory and God hung thick in the unusually chilly spring air as he strolled the streets of a quaint New England town.
Memories set in that stuffy, ancient church lost in the tangled web of
Fayette County backroads never brought a smile to his face. They made his lips snarl into an uncharacteristic predatory grimace. The fat old preacher's hypocrisy, his mother moaning in hysterics when the "spirit" took her, or the backless benches that made his ass muscles spasm. All of them but one: the sermon on the Seven Deadly Sins.
Gluttony, Lust, Greed, Pride, Sorrow, Wrath, Vanity, and Sloth. Each infraction against God resulted in a one-way ticket to Lucifer's Kingdom. However, each one of them also was a booster of rocket fuel for his career.
He'd never taken disappointment well. Breakups, friends turn into foes and especially defeat.
His loss to Reigner reflected back at him every time he stared into the gold. Every bullshit word out of the prick's mouth danced in his ears when he ran his fingers over the etching that read "Broadcast Champion." Did that make him a vain person? Damn straight it did.
Reigner made him look foolish; called him a one-dimensional fighter, outlasted him once, beat him decisively the next time they fought, and then left the company before he could the bastard eat his words.
Three successful title defenses and 56 days and counting as his rival's successor didn't curb the bitterness. It didn't erase the space in between his first and second turns with the gold.
So if he couldn't be the man to end Reigner's reign, he would have the one to obliterate the memory of him.
That was the curse of wounding a fighter's pride; the price you paid for exposing him before the world, because when you did that it sent him back to the dojo. The anger and the shame melded into an insatiable desire to train, to study his weaknesses and make them strengths, and to destroy everything in front of him.
No three successful title defenses and 56 consecutive days weren't good enough. It was too close to Noah's work and marked them as equals. This ride couldn't end anytime soon. It had to go into the summer, the winter or next fucking year. The name James Edwards needed to become synonymous with the working fighter's title. Whoever beat him for it needed to have to see his reflection when they peered into the prize.
Gluttony, Lust, Greed, Pride, Sorrow, Wrath, Vanity, and Sloth. Each offers a path to damnation. Each also an integral in James' quest for professional validation.
Besides a professional fighter has more use for guts than God anyway, a thought that finally brings a smile to his face.
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Post by James Edwards on May 6, 2017 1:37:21 GMT
It's a seminal photograph, one of a lone fighter sits slumped and bare-chested in front of a locker with an untended gash on his forehead. Blood streaks down most of his face, but he smiles. Laid across his lap is a championship belt, a spoil of war won from his hated rival. Two more rest in the space behind him, his first world championship and half of a duo's crown.
The picture depicts James Edwards at an all-time high in the summer of 2016. A James Edwards that believed the myth of his own invincibility. That man is nothing like the world-weary Broadcast Champion seated in front of the camera.
"You're not different from the rest, Kelsey. I wish I could say differently. You didn't come at me with pretentious gym selfies, bullshit promises of honor, or delusional rantin'. You offered me kind words as champion. You thought you were showin' me some respect Your actions showed otherwise, Kelsey, because you had to show off the belts. You had to do a token show of force."
He glances down at the photo in his hands and sighs like a disappointed parent.
"And why? Because you think I'm gonna take you lightly? Like all that shiny shit you were showin' off makes you better than all the folks that came at my throne before you. Shit girl, look at the effort level I've given the other three, I could barely walk after two of them. That's what it looks like when a man gives everything in his heart to an opponent and has nothing left to offer. So don't think I'm taking you lightly, and don't assume you're the only one who's won double belts."
He flashes the photo momentarily and then casually tosses it over his shoulder like an afterthought.
"I've done what you're setting out to do in Norfolk. It's not a reason to fear or respect me. It's something to learn from. I used those titles as a warnin' shot so folks would know not to fuck with me. The funny thing is gold doesn't intimidate the best fighters. It pisses em' off because it means they aren't the best."
He's on a roll now. The fire in his eyes is evident.
"That's why I fight like hell to keep it. I wanna be the best champion that UKWF has to offer. I wanna keep makin' the Broadcast Division the spot where real fighters compete in the British Isles. I wanna be the line in the sand that inspires people to go to new heights. It may be a selfish goal but it's realistic and attainable. Goals sustain fighters. Ideas burn them out. You're an idea, Kelsey, beautiful to behold, but ultimately not substantial enough to go the distance."
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Mar 1, 2018 2:22:11 GMT
Mar 1, 2018 2:22:11 GMT
