Post by Joe Stanton on Jan 29, 2018 1:24:21 GMT
Away from cameras a key enters a lock and turns, making a clicking noise to signify its unlocked the door Joe Stanton pushes with his other hand open. He slings his bag over his shoulder and he walks into the loft, his loft, it's a very nice one really, it looks like the type of place you'd have to buy an arm and a leg for. He doesn't pay quite that much, probably just an arm's worth, but after spending years being careful with his money it isn't remotely an issue for him. It's sparse looking, as if someone hasn't fully moved in, ignoring the glaring fact that everything Joe owns was moved in a few months ago by him all in one go.
It's probably because his entire adult life he's kept the essential and not much else. Ever changing locations, ever changing residence, the only time he had remotely anything resembling a home was in Carson City when NGIW provided him with a place and the one he just left in California a few months ago.
Kim's house.
Stanton moves deeper into his new residence and closes the door behind him, the sensor on his open kitchen area detects him on the way to the living room space and flips on some lights for him. He haphazardly tosses his bag onto the couch and he glances around, looking over at the stand positioned next to the side of the couch where a tank with some lights on is positioned.
"How's it hanging, Blanka?"
He jokingly asks the bearded dragon staring at him from the inside of the cage, leaning in like he genuinely expects the lizard to whisper something to him. A quick scan of his cage tells him that the food set-up he left his boy with for the day he was out worked, but he should probably give him a bath later and change out his cage, refill his water tank and make sure he has plenty of dried worms & crickets in his food dish. He moves over to the cage, sliding it open and petting the little guy a bit after not seeing him for a day, the beardie closes his eyes as the only sign he's enjoying this affection before Joe closes up the cage again and he plops down onto the couch.
Looking around, Joe idly taps his hands on the furniture he's sitting on on both sides of him, trying to think of something to do. He pulls out his phone and he scrolls through his contacts, looking over the names and messages, lots of banter & well wishes between him and a bunch of his friends. Especially the ones he went through hell with last night and celebrated with them, and a bunch of others, afterwards pretty much the entire night. Hadn't done something like that in a hot minute. Felt nice, even if it was something of an end of an era, him not certain when he'd see a lot of those faces again in person with the closing of their home promotion. Men and women that had been his surrogate family, a family he sort of lost along the way to finding this new one.
His thumb instinctively shoots a message to Iz, he knows she's in the area what with them living in the same city and he naturally wants to check in on her. This last year's been rough for her, rougher than she deserved, rougher than arguably anyone deserves to go through. Not that he wasn't familiar with that type of pain. A similar ordeal falling into his lap not that long ago.
Still.
Spend as long as he has in this business and you see not just life, but the business itself, eat up people and spit them out. Sometimes they're able to rebound, sometimes they're too far gone, and sometimes...they get the real Bad End to the story. Stanton didn't want that for Iz. For any of his friends.
Picking up the remote from the coffee table in front of him he switches on his television and streams matches onto it, beginning to watch some specifically about upcoming opponents. During the entrances and introductions for this first match he glances down at his phone again, checking his calendar, looking at the dates that he's going to be out of town and who he's wrestling for, where he's going to be, making sure he's not gotten himself into any sticky situations with his bookings. Felt weird in a way, back before NGIW he predominately wrestled in the midwest, even if it was for different promotions they weren't that far apart from each other and only had so many dates & so many shows a year. Then NGIW exclusivity provided him with a steady flow of shows and dates, being with FIW provided a similar experience.
Now though...
Now he wasn't just going all over America even, he was going all over the world. New Zealand one day, Japan the next, New York the next day after, UK two days after, back to Japan again, New York a few days later. There's a weird, exhilarating rush he got from thinking about it. From the thought of globe trotting and more importantly, from the level of competition he'd be up against. No only just the best of the most well known, the best of countries, of regions, the best that are known, and the best that are on the rise, that haven't quite made their names yet.
The challenge, it presented itself like a giant mountain to scale. And, Joe Stanton could barely keep his thoughts on anything else but how thrilled he was to scale that. To be tested. To falter but to keep going in spite of it.
There's hardly thought put into him retrieving the notepad and pencil from his bag when he does it, his thoughts still swimming with the possible match-ups he'll have in the coming year. His green eyes shift their focus onto the screen as the opening bell sounds, watching his soon-to-be opponent and their then opposition start with the graps. His right hand speeds through writing notes down, every trait, every quirk, every little tick they give off. It all goes down for review later.
It's amidst all of this that he starts to forget that nagging feeling, that sensation he's experienced since he signed the lease on this loft, for this brief moment in time & space the thought this is not his home slips from him and all he focuses on is dead ahead of him...
The Fight.
It's probably because his entire adult life he's kept the essential and not much else. Ever changing locations, ever changing residence, the only time he had remotely anything resembling a home was in Carson City when NGIW provided him with a place and the one he just left in California a few months ago.
Kim's house.
Stanton moves deeper into his new residence and closes the door behind him, the sensor on his open kitchen area detects him on the way to the living room space and flips on some lights for him. He haphazardly tosses his bag onto the couch and he glances around, looking over at the stand positioned next to the side of the couch where a tank with some lights on is positioned.
"How's it hanging, Blanka?"
He jokingly asks the bearded dragon staring at him from the inside of the cage, leaning in like he genuinely expects the lizard to whisper something to him. A quick scan of his cage tells him that the food set-up he left his boy with for the day he was out worked, but he should probably give him a bath later and change out his cage, refill his water tank and make sure he has plenty of dried worms & crickets in his food dish. He moves over to the cage, sliding it open and petting the little guy a bit after not seeing him for a day, the beardie closes his eyes as the only sign he's enjoying this affection before Joe closes up the cage again and he plops down onto the couch.
Looking around, Joe idly taps his hands on the furniture he's sitting on on both sides of him, trying to think of something to do. He pulls out his phone and he scrolls through his contacts, looking over the names and messages, lots of banter & well wishes between him and a bunch of his friends. Especially the ones he went through hell with last night and celebrated with them, and a bunch of others, afterwards pretty much the entire night. Hadn't done something like that in a hot minute. Felt nice, even if it was something of an end of an era, him not certain when he'd see a lot of those faces again in person with the closing of their home promotion. Men and women that had been his surrogate family, a family he sort of lost along the way to finding this new one.
His thumb instinctively shoots a message to Iz, he knows she's in the area what with them living in the same city and he naturally wants to check in on her. This last year's been rough for her, rougher than she deserved, rougher than arguably anyone deserves to go through. Not that he wasn't familiar with that type of pain. A similar ordeal falling into his lap not that long ago.
Still.
Spend as long as he has in this business and you see not just life, but the business itself, eat up people and spit them out. Sometimes they're able to rebound, sometimes they're too far gone, and sometimes...they get the real Bad End to the story. Stanton didn't want that for Iz. For any of his friends.
Picking up the remote from the coffee table in front of him he switches on his television and streams matches onto it, beginning to watch some specifically about upcoming opponents. During the entrances and introductions for this first match he glances down at his phone again, checking his calendar, looking at the dates that he's going to be out of town and who he's wrestling for, where he's going to be, making sure he's not gotten himself into any sticky situations with his bookings. Felt weird in a way, back before NGIW he predominately wrestled in the midwest, even if it was for different promotions they weren't that far apart from each other and only had so many dates & so many shows a year. Then NGIW exclusivity provided him with a steady flow of shows and dates, being with FIW provided a similar experience.
Now though...
Now he wasn't just going all over America even, he was going all over the world. New Zealand one day, Japan the next, New York the next day after, UK two days after, back to Japan again, New York a few days later. There's a weird, exhilarating rush he got from thinking about it. From the thought of globe trotting and more importantly, from the level of competition he'd be up against. No only just the best of the most well known, the best of countries, of regions, the best that are known, and the best that are on the rise, that haven't quite made their names yet.
The challenge, it presented itself like a giant mountain to scale. And, Joe Stanton could barely keep his thoughts on anything else but how thrilled he was to scale that. To be tested. To falter but to keep going in spite of it.
There's hardly thought put into him retrieving the notepad and pencil from his bag when he does it, his thoughts still swimming with the possible match-ups he'll have in the coming year. His green eyes shift their focus onto the screen as the opening bell sounds, watching his soon-to-be opponent and their then opposition start with the graps. His right hand speeds through writing notes down, every trait, every quirk, every little tick they give off. It all goes down for review later.
It's amidst all of this that he starts to forget that nagging feeling, that sensation he's experienced since he signed the lease on this loft, for this brief moment in time & space the thought this is not his home slips from him and all he focuses on is dead ahead of him...
The Fight.
