| Thrax | Date: Saturday, 2011/06/11, 4:37 PM | Message # 1 |
 Lo/Mid Carder
Group: Moderators
Messages: 121
Status: Offline
| [We hear the door slam as Thrax steps into view. The first part of the room is carpeted with a sofa down one wall that faces a standard-size television set. Beyond that is a more traditional “locker-room” style area, wooden floor with a bench and some lockers, an open door shows the entrance to the personal bathroom and shower.
After a few deep breaths Thrax steps forward and starts to unwind the tape around his fists, staring at it as if to distract himself. Balling it up he throws it across the room and it bounces off a wall before dropping into the bin]
Thrax – Well at least one thing went right tonight.
[He chuckles to himself. By going out there he stopped it becoming the Chris Johnson show. Getting blinded by his anger was the error. For years he had been aware of his anger problem, but he never sought medical help. Instead he resorted to meditation. Right there is the other major flaw.. Avoiding people and help.. People cause problems, or at least that's what the past shows. Just like...
The sound of an envelope being pushed under the door stops the train of thought. Thrax walks over and picks it up. It is plain white, except for “Thrax” being scrawled across the front in black pen. Turning it over he notices the flap isn't sealed. Lifting it Thrax removes the single sheet of plain paper from inside. It looks like it's been torn from a notepad. Flicking it open he reads the text on it]
Note - “I saw your match, you were cheated. Look forward to seeing you in action again soon xx”
[He re-reads it over and over, wondering who could have sent it. A minute passes of just reading before he throws the door open, hoping to see the source of the mysterious note. Looking left then right all he sees is an empty corridor. Not knowing which way the sender would have gone he dejectedly steps back into the room. As he closes the door a clattering can be heard down the hallway. Ignoring the commotion Thrax puts the note on the coffee table, it's contents passing through his mind. Whoever this is, it would have to wait. He had somewhere to be.]
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[ Thrax trudged down yet another isle. The American stores were a lot larger than the ones back in England, but were full of the same assortment of brand items next to their low-budget cousins. Weaving between two elderly ladies he grabbed a can of beans and threw it into his trolley. Checking the list he crossed off the last item and headed for the cash registers. As he reached the front of the queue he was met by a cheery-eyed blonde]
Assistant - Good afternoon sir
[Just about mumbling back a “hi”, Thrax sets about packing his items]
Assistant – Nice day today hey?
[She is met by a distant agreement, and decides not to try any more small-talk as she finishes scanning the items]
Assistant – Well, $23.71 please sir
[Reaching into his pocket Thrax pulls out his wallet. Not yet fully sure on American money he hands over the first couple of notes he has. The cashier laughs at his confused expression and places the money in the register. She counts out the change, handing it over with the receipt and a smile]
Assistant – Have a nice day
Thrax – Yeah.. You too
[Picking up the bags he heads towards the exit. As he gets just outside the door there is a voice from behind]
Elderly Lady – Excuse me young man, you dropped this
[Thrax turns to see a short, round lady holding out a piece of paper. As his eyes focus on the object he realises it's the note that was passed under his door. He quickly takes it, managing a half-smile]
Thrax – Err, thanks
[She smiles back at him, clearly understanding that he is troubled. As he turns Thrax hears her mention something to her friend about “hoping he will be alright”. Walking away he tenses inside, despising the pity. Pity solves nothing. No matter how many times people say “I'm sorry” it can't take back what happened. Pulling up the hood of his coat he walks on.
It might be early summer, but he still has a long, gothic trenchcoat on. His barrier between himself and the outside world. Yes, it draws the stares and comments, but it hides him.
Reaching a very modern apartment block he enters. Taking the lift he is soon in a well furnished apartment. EWA might be relatively new, but they pay well, and were nice enough to help find this place.]
Thrax – I'm home
[Even though he knows the place is empty, he still says it. Maybe it's a sense of hoping that one day there will be someone to fill that void. Someone to bring back the feelings that were lost.
He enters the kitchen and puts the items away. Walking across the room he pushes a button on the stereo as he passes, and the room is immediately filled with the opening riff of “Photograph” by Def Leppard. Dropping into his chair he loads up the internet and types in the EWA website. The Retaliation card is first up, and he notices the Battle Royal.]
Thrax – Title shot? I'll take that. Let's see.. Weezle, Avery, Burrows... Ruthless Aggression?.. I thought she was??... Ouch...
[Despite not knowing much about the past of EWA, Ruth is still a name he recognises. Known as possibly the worlds most extreme woman. This was going to be tough, but the chance to show what he can do.
Breaking his eyes from the list he loads up the roster page, and scrolls down to the females]
Thrax – Let's see if we can find you then
[Maybe he was obsessing over this too much, but he's the kinda guy that when something bugs him, he has to get to the bottom of it. Scanning the list he starts eliminating in his mind. Once face catches his attention, but an IM pops up and breaks his stare]
Friend (IM) – Hey dude. Saw your debut. YOU SUCK!! Just joking with you. Hope you get your revenge on that prick lol
[Smiling to himself Thrax contemplates some abuse-filled reply, but instead just tells his friend to get the camera and come over before signing out of IM and picking up a notepad]
Thrax – Now, what to go with this time
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[ The scene opens to a high shot of a busy park. As the camera zooms back we see that it's being shot from a balcony, and is in fact a personal-camera. The camera turns to show Thrax leant on the balcony looking at the city below]
Thrax – New York, New York. One of the most important cities in the world. A centre of trade and business. Home to almost 20 million people from all walks of life. Home to the Hammerstein Ballroom and Madison Square Garden. Home of the EWA Colluseum.
[Thrax turns to the camera]
Thrax – And it was there that I “lost” to Chris Johnson. See, I've seen people refer to it as a loss. To me, losing is being beaten. Losing is being down on that mat so you can't get up. Losing is tapping out because you can't take the pain. Losing is being battered and broken while your opponent stands tall. Watch the tapes back, I walked away perfectly fine. Didn't tap, wasn't pinned. I was outside, brawling with some lackey because I let my anger get the better of me. Now, Johnson has that 24/7 title, so I could just mow him down anywhere and get revenge.
[Stepping inside the rising anger on his face turns to a large, rather cheeky smile]
Thrax – But that's not my style. Good luck to you man. 4 way at the Pay Per View with tough opponents.
[Thrax picks up a piece of paper from a desk and looks down it]
Thrax – This whole card, it's going to be a big night. Tag team titles being decided, World Championship defended, one night only of a legend...
[His finger runs down the paper, then stops and taps a spot near the bottom]
Thrax – And then there is the battle royal. 7 competitors, over the top rope. Guaranteed International Title shot. I've heard the words of some of my rivals. Out to slander the competition. Out to make themselves look to be the only one with talent. To me, this list is full of potential. Anyone could take the win. Anyone could get that chance to move to the next level.
[A cheeky smile crosses his face]
Thrax – Although if we want to get technical, I'm the only non-North American in that match.
[Putting down the paper he picks up the note, the smile falling again]
Thrax – It's not the match that's been bugging me the most. It's not even the fact I let my anger take control at my debut. What's been playing with my mind is this note. Somebody is watching me.
[He opens the note, scanning as he talks]
Thrax – I know you saw my first match, and yeah, I didn't really get a chance to show my full potential. You “look forward to seeing me in action”, so are interested in me. But why? What do you want from me?
[He throws the note onto the bed]
Thrax – If it's that important, you clearly know where my locker room is. Come find me. But remember to watch.. Because at Retaliation, I have a chance to get myself a guaranteed title shot. I don't fear you, I don't fear my opponents, and I certainly don't fear failure.
For I am not afraid to keep on living.. I am not afraid to walk this world.. Alone
[The alone is whispered, almost not wanting to be spoken, as he looks back outside, the camera following his stare. Looking out into the bright sunlight the camera slowly turns bright white showing the scene is over]
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[ color=blue]Luke – And that's a wrap[/color]
[Luke lowers the camera. In his mid 20s, with short hair, facial hair and glasses he the traditional “cool” nerd that people like, and is the only person in the city that Thrax really knows. A big fan of the old CZW he transitioned to EWA when they formed. Although he'll never admit it, Thrax believes it was Luke that sent the anonymous tapes to EWA of his work back in England. The same tapes that lead to him being signed. Why else would he have asked for all those videos in the first place?
Luke starts wiring up the camera to the computer and looks over at Thrax]
Luke – Dude, smile! It won't kill you
[Thrax musters a sarcastic half-smile as he drops onto the sofa]
Luke – Oh come on. It's just some note. Let me see..
[As Luke reaches across Thrax puts his hand in the way. After a moments staredown he backs down and allows Luke to pick it up]
Luke – Looks like you got yourself an admirer
[Thrax laughs at the thought]
Luke – Seriously. There's even a heart here
[Thrax shoots to his feet almost immediately]
Thrax – What?? Where??
Luke – Just there
[Holding the flap of the envelope open he points at a heart drawn on the underside.]
Thrax – Still doesn't mean anything.
Luke – If you say so. But you owe me a beer if I'm right
[Luke puts the note and envelope back down and starts to upload the video to the computer]
Luke – Speaking of beer, you got any in?
Thrax – Cheeky git. Just because you run my website you think you can take liberties.
[Luke beams a large grin as Thrax walks to the kitchen]
Thrax – I suppose you'll want dinner next. No, that isn't an offer...
[Thrax returns with two beers, handing one over they both take a large swig]
Luke – So, what's the plan for the battle royal?
Thrax – What do you think? Go out, get a win.
Luke – Easier said than done. I've seen the opposition list. Dudes fighting chicks? Only time I want chicks fighting is if they are naked
Thrax – You truly are messed up. They deserve equal rights. Some of them have a lot of talent.
Luke – Yeah. I'd like a go with those talents..
[Luke bursts out laughing, but notices Thrax's unamused look]
Luke – Right. I'll finish this at home. Clearly you're on your man-period.
[Luke gathers his equipment and leaves, only stopping to yell “Laters” as he goes through the door. Now alone, Thrax turns on the TV, hoping to block out all the thoughts and finally relax. A new city and a new start. Maybe at Retaliation he can finally escape the past.]
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