Fader v Novak v Black v Kalel

[UKWF]

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

[Deleted]

INTERCESSION

A hooded figure dressed in black knelt before the 16th century altar of one of the most iconic religious buildings in the world: Westminster Abbey. The figure’s whisper echoed slightly in the empty sanctuary as the camera drew closer. The whispers were prayers of supplication.

FIGURE: “O Lord, show favor upon them; restore their well-being.
Pardon the wrongdoing of United Kingdom Wrestling Federation.
Though they were born in sin, you can forgive their iniquities.
Withdraw your fury and turn away your raging anger.
RESTORE THEM, O GOD!”

The last sentence from the figure was not a whisper. It was a demand that echoed harshly in the cathedral. The figure slowly lifted its head and looked up beyond the ceiling as if anticipating an answer. After a couple moments, it slowly stood up. As it turned to face the camera, it removed its hood to reveal its identity: A tall muscular man with long black hair and green eyes. When the man spoke, the tone of his voice was authoritative.

FIGURE: “My name is Xandor Kalel. I am the Patron Saint of Professional Wrestling. I am the advocate sent to intercede for our sport. When wrestling was first conceived at the dawn of humanity, it was an amicable test of human prowess and competition. It was a test of the human will. Cain and Abel wrestled not to show superiority but to test the potential and limits of the human spirit.”

Xandor stopped and let out a pregnant sigh as he shook his head with disappointment.

XANDOR KALEL: “Then evil tempted Cain. He grew jealous of Abel’s favor with God and their brotherly competitions became malignant in nature. Wrestling was no longer about human progress. It became about human superiority. Cain’s jealousy escalated until one day he snapped his brother’s neck with a choke hold and killed him. As Abel’s blood dripped from Cain’s hands, our sport became a means of combat, war, and evil. And its evolution into professional wrestling has only sent it deeper into the darkness.”

The Patron Saint crossed his arms and glared into the souls of his audience.

XANDOR KALEL: “It’s time for the intercession. It’s time United Kingdom Wrestling Federation is baptized by fire. You may not like my methods. You may not understand my actions. But I promise you it is for the redemption of UKWF.”

A slight smirk formed on Xandor’s face.

XANDOR KALEL: “At Declared Defiance, I will consecrate the UKWF ring as the First Church of the Patron Saint! Stefan Novak, Blaise Fader, and Juliet Black will be the first to enter my church and they will face a choice: join my movement or fall at the feet of the Patron Saint. I don’t mean ill-will towards my opponents. But if they must be the first martyrs to the cause of redemption, so be it.”

The camera pans to a close up of Xandor’s intense face.

XANDOR KALEL: “I await your confessions, my friends. Choose wisely.”

[Deleted]

SILENCE IS A CHOICE

A late night mist fell on London as the camera approached the outside gates of Westminster Abbey. The Patron Saint of Professional Wrestling, Xandor Kalel, was walking parallel to the tall elaborate fence wearing a long black hooded coat over his street clothes. He was pensive, even a bit annoyed, as he shoves his hands into the coat pockets.

XANDOR KALEL: “A week has gone by and I haven’t heard a thing from any of my Declared Defiance opponents. Is this what I am to expect from UKWF?”

An annoyed glare escaped from under Xandor’s hood.

XANDOR KALEL: “I had a brief exchange on Twitter with Blaise Fader and Juliet Black shortly after the card was announced but nothing came of it other than more giddiness from Blaise and half-naked pictures from Juliet. Stefan Novak is missing. Is anyone taking this match seriously?”

Xandor stopped for a moment and looked at camera with disdain.

XANDOR KALEL: “Do you forget who I am? I am the Patron Saint of Professional Wrestling. I am the gatekeeper between UKWF and the fiery wrath of God! I can assuage hellfire and brimstone or I can allow it to fall mercilessly upon this company. Have mercy on your fellow wrestlers and speak! The silence, whether deliberate or not, will decide your fates and the future of UKWF. I want to redeem this company, not destroy it. I want to help UKWF reach its highest potential, not suffer the fate of mediocre promotions. But as of now, with your silence, you choose the path of judgment. You condemn yourselves and UKWF to a fiery onslaught it might not be able to survive. And if it becomes a reality, people will look back and see your lack of courage as the spark that lit the apocalypse of UKWF.”

The Patron Saint continued his walk around Westminster Abbey.

XANDOR KALEL: “Say something, either of you! Don’t allow me to become the instrument of wrath against UKWF at Declared Defiance. I’m here to intercede! Blaise, use your positive outlook on life to breathe life into this company. Be a shining light! Juliet, focus less on showing off your body on Twitter and show me that within you lies a bright future for UKWF. But if this company is only a stepping stone in your self-centered agenda, you will suffer the most of all at Declared Defiance. Stefan, you call yourself a messenger of God. What is your message? God is not silent. Why are you? If the message is too burdensome, let me give it. Otherwise, you condone the evil within UKWF.”

Xandor stopped and looked at the camera one last time.

XANDOR KALEL: “I will not hesitate do what I am called to do. Blaise Fader, Juliet Black, and Stefan Novak, as I said in my previous message, the choice is yours. Don’t let your silence be the wrong choice and send UKWF into eternal damnation. Heed my words...for they will save you.”

[Valkyrie and Hana]

Backstage of the Paradise Rooms, Juliet Black was seen on her phones camera, Dublin Trouble was preparing herself to go on stage.

“Amazing isn't it? I said I was going to come out on top on my debut and fuckin' right I won. Some folks are bitching that I didn't play fair, I just did the thing she couldn't do and let that killer instinct take over. Now I got her, and two other Muppets to take care of.”

“The Patron fuckin Saint of Professional Wrestling? Get der fuck outta here. I know you think yer a Saint, but there's two fucking problems. One is that your still alive, and the other is that signing here doesn't count as a miracle. Been a long time since I attended organized religion but even I remember that bollocks. If you are intent on being Beatified, then you'll be Beaten. Severely.”

“Then the Messenger of God. What the fuck did I do to deserve getting stuck in the ring with people who actually believe the brainwashing techniques of the Christian faith? It sounds like a really fucking bad joke and the fact that the website has a chatting point about every other match that'll be aired except this one confirms it. I don't give a shite about what this Messenger can do, I'm going to overcome and tear a fucking shoulder out of place!”

“Then we have my arch nemesis as she quickly appears to be coming. Blaise, I don't care for you in the fucking slightest and despite what you think and claim of my tactics, we'll be rolling grand piano's uphill if we try and take those fuckwits on solo. Why bother when they can wipe one another out for us, we pick out the last one and then you just eat the canvas when I actually hit you with the Blackout this time around!”

“People don't like what I say a lot, but there is a lot of damned truth to what I say. And I am under the belief that anyone who says they care about marketing themselves and don't mind taking losses are full of shite. You want to be successful, you do what needs to be done, put together the wins, knock the fuck out of whoever gets in your way if they choose not to stand at your side. The thing that matters most to be is Victory by any means necessary. Listen or don't, your opinions on how I live my life, working out in the gym and stripping to make ends meat are irrelevant to me. What does matter is how I make my name known... and that you all Bow Down to the Fucking Queen of Wrestling!”

The video was then interrupted, a knock on the door and a voice of one of the other ladies of the club

“Juliet, your up next on stage!”

And with a mocking kiss, the video cut out.

[Blaise Fader]

We open to a bustling street corner in the heart of London, clogged with fretting people in business suits, painfully obvious tourists, and other pedestrians. Meandering through the hustling crowd with a few 'scuse me's and sorry's, the camera turns and focuses, with Blaise Fader in the foreground. Another phone-recorded video.

Blaise jabs a thumb behind her, past a gaggle of dawdling Londoners, to a tall, bronze statue on a pedestal - it's Winston Churchill.

"So, I tried cashin' in on tha' sweet Westminster setup you got there, Xandor, and I still dunno how you did it. For you, it was a promo. For me? Trespassin'! Can you believe it?"

The camera turns down the street, zooming in on the wall of Westminster Abbey for a moment, before returning to Blaise.

"I guess I'm better off, 'cos I'm not about all tha' Old Testament natter you're talkin'. S'not my place to talk about any God's authority, but this righ' here is a bloke I can get behind... well, in front of, I guess. Ol' Winnie Churchill himself. See, he and I've got a fair share in common; like him, all I've got to offer you, UKWF, is blood, toil, tears and sweat. Me and the Bulldog 'ere might not look like much, an' the odds might have us outnumbered, but that don't mean the fight's over 'fore it even begins. Not by a long shot! Declared Defiance will be my greatest challenge in the ring yet, and I've got three capable, dangerous fighters in three of those corners to contend with, but they've all got one opposite them, and that's me!"

An awkward pause.

"... that made sense, righ' Cor? The three corners and me in one corner--"

A voice from behind the phone sighs petulantly. "--sure, whatever, just keep goin', phone's runnin' outta juice!"

"You should've charged it at home, then! Think ahead! Anyways, these three wrestlers are, without question, some of the toughest scrappers in UKWF righ' now, and it's gonna take more than brute force to take any one of 'em down. But you folks should know by now, I've got more than just these sixty centimeter pythons--"

"--they're not sixty centimeters..."

"... these pythons to hold my own. I've got heart. I've got guts. And I've got the drive to take whatever you three throw at me, and throw it right back! At Declared Defiance, in the most stacked four-way match I've ever heard of, I will not be the weak link! Just like Churchill said..."

Despite muffled protestations from her brother, Blaise turns, and with a lot more effort than she'd have liked to exert, climbs onto Churchill's statue.

"... I shall fight on the beaches, I shall fight on the landing grounds, I shall fight in the fields and in the streets, I shall fight in the ring and on the floor and behind the barricades..."

"... did Churchill really say all that--"

"--I shall never surrender!"

[Blaise Fader]

Once again, we open to Blaise’s flat in Brixton. It’s dark, but this time, not as empty; less space is taken up by boxes and bins, replaced by actual furniture and assorted home décor, notably with an old, curling poster for a bygone 70s wrestling show taped to the wall behind her. The room is lit by the faint glow of a TV screen. While the camera is facing away from whatever is on the screen, it’s easy to make out Prince’s ‘When Doves Cry’ in the background.

“Can’t sleep worth a damn,” Blaise admits, lifting her glasses to rub her eyes. “Think this is the… second time I’ve watched Purple Rain tonight? Third, maybe? Lost track.

“Givin’ myself a day to decompress and get my mind righ’ for my match has got me thinkin’. Whether that’s good or bad, I dunno. But it’s got me thinkin’ about my debut. She might’ve come out on top, but Juliet and I put on a show-stealer, no question. My whole family was there to see me, and even when I lost, they had my back. More than just them, too, I’ve been hearin’ it from fans all over. Blaise, they says, that match was bloody brilliant, not too shabby at all, you should be righ’ chuffed, pleased as punch, an’ all… but then I hear ‘em say, well, you learned your lesson, you proved your point, love. No need to go and hurt yerself again.

"Honestly… what’s all that about? Like this was just some fantasy, some corny birthday wish-fulfillment? Believe me, signing with UKWF has been a dream come true, but who says that dream has to end so soon? Who says gettin’ busted in the nose with a chair means I ain’t ‘ard enough, eh?"

“Consider this a PSA: I cannot and will not give up that easy. At Declared Defiance, I’m gonna prove, not just to myself, but each of those scary asskickers in the ring ‘long with me, that I mean business. When the Best Beater-Upper in Britain steps in the ring with the likes of Xandor Kalel, all that talk about Patron Saints and confessions don't mean nothin' to me. The only prayer you've got is to beg the Lord you don't catch these hands! Or when I go toe-to-toe with Stefan Novak, the biggest damn Croat I've ever seen - not that I've seen many Croats - and prove that I can work the mat just as well as he thinks he can, that I've got counters to his counters' counters! And Juliet... despite yerself, I still respect you. Despite cheatin' your way to a win over me, I know we're both better than that. But I don't wanna hear nothin' about waitin' on one or the other to take the fall. You keep talkin’ like that, it’ll be you gettin’ acquainted with those lights for the three!

“Come Declared Defiance, to all three of you, I’ll be ready. Can any of you say the same?”

[Valkyrie and Hana]

“The line between genius and insanity is measured only by success. The first time a wrestler took to the air and missed his opponent, that would be seen as Insane, the one who made the connection for the first time, probably seen as a genius!”

The camera opened up in a Catholic Church in London. Juliet Black stood behind the lectern, fire and brimstone in her voice.

“The Book of Black, verses nine to twenty one. The Queen of Wrestling giveth no fucks about her crude language nor the respect of her peers when it comes to surviving and thriving in the Holy Land of the Squared Circle. For the Queen herself shall lead forth those who proclaim themselves Humble, those who proclaim themselves Saints and those who claim to be the Voice of the Lord in this world of injustice! Humble is a weakness that allows those who would exploit such that, and those who believe the Queen is better than she speaks of... does not know her that well at all!”

“The Saint, many people genuinely do not wish to be saints, and it is possible that some who achieve or aspire to sainthood have never had much temptation to be human beings. A quote from the book of Orwell, who would characterize animals when he spoke of humans. Stubborn as a mule, aloof like the cat and about to squeal like a pig with it's head caught in a gate. My opinion of those who claim Sainthood yet still breath is that I'm more than happy to give you a push out into the kingdom of some bearded chap where you aspire to be with one title. Only so you can rot in the ground, unless the funeral parlor is low budget and just dumps you in the Thames!”

“If there's any further proof that God and the idea of Heaven is a lie, then it comes in the form of the silence of his messenger. You hear from the Book of Black more times, and for once, fully clothed and not in the High Priestesses secondary employment. I know not who he fears, but the words 'Oh Crap!' are commonly used when my name is thrown into the mix.”

She raised her arms up, as though inviting a none existent congregation to rise up in response.

“The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he, who in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness, for he is truly his brother's keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who would attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know my name is the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon thee. “

Ending on a Pulp Fiction shoutout, the camera cut...