UKWF North Sea Championship: Edwards v Recoba

[UKWF]

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

[Cross Recoba]

The scene opens as the camera crew enter a café in the West End of London. The camera crew pile past a table wearing Corbyn t-shirt to the back of the restaurant. A paper with the headline ‘Tory back-benchers force weakened May into abortion U-turn’ obscures the face behind it but the blonde hair behind it belongs unmistakably to one man.



“Welcome back, gang. Grab yourself a coffee, or a cup of tea, or whatever you need to get through the day because I bring good news - the saviour of the UKWF is back!”



“At Power Play, and what an apt name for me to return, you saw me leave the North Sea champion on the floor after he got far too comfortable resting on his laurels. With that move you all knew, the man who helped build the North Sea division was back and sighed with relief.”



“Maybe I’m doing Edwards a disservice, after all he did manage to keep the lights on in this place and for that - well done. What I won’t give you credit for is being an actual champion. When the North Sea title became a thing Kincaid won the belt, but who won the headlines? Me! I was the name on everyone’s lips, if I recall correctly, and I know it’s correct - I keep all my clippings, the phrase ‘Scourge of the North Sea’ was used by more than one creatively empty journalist when writing the match up for whatever rag they were filing for.”



“How did you get your shot? You beat a few people and decided you were bored of the belt, weary even. Now, I might not have been seen for a few weeks but that’s life, things come up. What I have been doing however is making sure that I’ve remained in the best shape of my life. Kelsey’ll be glad to know I’ve kicked the cigarettes, Edwards won’t be - his style lends itself to hoping he can get the job done in the first five to ten minutes and I’m prepared for that. I’ve got the reach and weight advantage going for me, what does he have?”



“While you were toiling away with the Broadcast championship and being in two other places I didn’t need to go further than here to make a name for myself. I was HAND PICKED to come into this place, I am the future of this place. But why you? It’s simple - you let your guard down.”



“I’m looking at that title as the biggest amplifier in the place, I could go for Arcane straight off the bat, or Ace, or Hunter but that’s what people expected me to do, and I never tend to go for that option. This option however gave me a platform and someone who is vulnerable.”



“So when the bell rings at Summerfest, I’ll make you an Offer You Can’t Refuse, I’ll break out the the Sicilian Typewriter, and I’ll break you with Garibaldi’s Guilotine!”

[Cross Recoba]

The camera cold opens on a view from the balcony of Recoba’s residency at One Hyde Park. It’s early morning in London and the streets that in a few hours will be filled with tourists remain peaceful. Cross, wearing a navy blue suit and Boston University red tie, looks out across the city watching the sun peer over the clouds.



“Edwards, we’re just over a week away from our match - how do you feel? Confident? Thinking that you’re the form player in the UKWF? That this will just be a formality? You see, James, I’ve got a good idea of how this match is going to go, but I’m not sure you’re going to like it.”



“This is your big moment, Jim, can I call you Jim? So, like I said in my last video - you’re a man who likes to get things done in a swift manner. The bad news is - no-one has managed to put me away quickly, so you might want to think of a back-up plan. You’re going to try and use it as an example as to why you’re overlooked, why you deserve this belt, why you’re better than what has been put in front of you so far in the UKWF. It’s an admirable view, but let’s face facts - you’re about at your limit.”



“I look out across the horizon and see the sun and think of you, Edwards, because when I think about this match all I can think of is Icarus. Do you maybe think you might be overmatched this time? That you’re entering into a match where you’re going to look exposed?”



Cross turns to face the camera with a smile across his face.



“You see, I’m a guy who has victories over Blazer and MJ Bell. I’m the guy who people love to hate, and I embrace it. You’re fine in the ring but that’s it, you’re the guy who people would trust to turn their hand to any task and do a fine job, but champions don’t just do fine jobs, they’re leaders of me, they’re appointment viewing...the more I think about it the more I come to the conclusion, you need me in this match.”



“Without me you’re just a guy who can take on the lower ranks, you’re just a guy who will be technically proficient and not much else. What I give you is some credibility you’re sorely lacking. What I bring is some name value, some flash, a reason for people to actually care about this match. Even when you took the Broadcast Title you needed a second bite at the cherry to get what you came for, I don’t give second chances. The biggest question you need to answer for this match is simple - what words of congratulation are you going to offer me when I raise the UKWF North Sea Title above my head in victory?”

[James Edwards]

Listen carefully. Shut your eyes. Forsake what you know and learn again.

If this forest could talk, that is what it would say, with an earthy voice deepened by countless millennia of life. It is a wood of narrow, tall trees. Small caves exist near the pinnacles of the high hills that ebb and flow here in the Appalachian Foothills.

The trail currently hosts one man, James Edwards, and he looks exhausted. James drops the pack on his back and sits on the dusty, chocolate-brown earth.

"Y'all keeping up okay?"

The silence from the crew confirms, at least in James' mind that they are. He pulls out a metal water bottle and takes a long sip.

"You know what I like about being out here? No unnecessary noise. Just the sound of a running stream or the wind rustling the tree branches."

As if on cue, a moderate gust ignites a mini-symphony of branch and leaf.

"This ain't the first or the last time I'm gonna bring y'all out here. It won't be the last time I talk about unnecessary noise either. I think the two are linked. I get out here in the wild, and I forget the tension and the pressure of knowing I've got a helluva task in front of me. When I go back to civilization my mind is free to concentrate on said task."

James pauses to take another drink of water.

"So what's Cross been saying? If I remember right, it is that he is handpicked to define the North Sea Division and that he outshined Kincaid according to the press. Okay, that is all well and good. Kudos to him for that. I just have one question for him. Did he win?"

Silence permeates through the natural splendor, eerily providing James with his answer.

"Now let me ask some other questions. Did Ace Watson's pedigree beat me? Did Marcus Levine's promised violence derail me? Did Lowri Moss or Kelly Cross' heart take me down? Did Kelsey Spencer's crowd support tip the scales in her favor?"

Again silence reigns supreme.

"Cross can blather on and on about his destiny or height advantage. I don't care. He is only hurting himself by buying into useless visions. Let's look at fact with clear eyes and mind.

Despite everything said and done to me in this company, I've done one thing better than anyone else this year: I win. No matter what disadvantage I've faced, I find ways to win. There is nothing special to how I do it either. No extraordinary fate or skill set. Just pure focus and the will to survive. I know what it takes to win. The question now, does Cross Recoba?"

There is no answer. Just more silence and then the blowing of the wind offering an invitation: forsake your delusions and just listen to what is.

[James Edwards]

The terminus of James Edwards walk in the woods is a sandstone cliff of some sort. The Burning Heart sits on a blanket close to the ledge, enjoying the late day sun and more water, as he gazes down at a sea of trees.

"Do yourself a favor, Cross, don't fucking lie to yourself or me. Don't act like I'm not championship material when I've gotten not one but two title victories in this company when you ain't done shit except fail and play lackey for a dying regime.

Let's talk about the former New Managment Enforcers for a minute. The first few times I came to fight for this company, I was told to watch out for you guys, and after having beaten Ace Watson and Arcane, I don't see why I should have been afraid. I take that back because Ace fought with heart. Something that you and your old buddy, Arcane, don't seem to comprehend. Arcane ran his mouth and then couldn't muster up the fortitude to answer the ten count. You had to jump me to make a statement, Cross, and I wonder why?

I know it is because Stella's pets, past and present, know that their time is almost up. A new day is coming to the UKWF in its second year of existence, and I'm right at the front of the coming wave."

His back having been to the camera the entire time, James scoots around to where he can "look" the audience in the eye.

"I've talked about your lies for long enough, Cross, so let's hear the truth for a bit. I think a champion has an important job to do. They need to be an ideal for the entire division to strive for. They need to do it with courage, integrity, humility, and a helluva mean streak. A champion needs to be fighting spirit incarnate.

That's what I did during my time as Broadcast Champion. I took on all comers and demanded excellence. Every fighter I faced gave me their best in one way or another. I'm proud to say that spirit of the division as where real warriors go to perfect their trade continues.

So if I could help bring that kind of momentum to the so-called lowest rung of the ladder, why can't I do the same for the next tier? Why can't rise of the Undercard Heroes continue?

I know they will because this company is hungry for change. The locker room wants a place where merit and not favor with the boss decide how high you can go; where fighting spirit rules the day. That's what I'm prepared to destroy you for next week, Cross, because like it or not you are part of a dying breed that is about to go extinct."