Post by Irvine on Dec 1, 2016 20:45:16 GMT -5
Bradford, Irvine
Former Champion/Dying
[ AT A GLANCE ]
Age / Apparent Age: 42
Gender: Male
Height & Weight: 6'00 & 150 lbs
Hair & Eye Color: Greying brown, Green.
Positive Traits: Dynamic, Self-reliant, Peaceful.
Negative Traits: Cocksure, self-indulgent, Sarcastic
Loyalties: Self and his old crew who are long since dead or refuses to speak to him.
Snapshots:
-1974: Born in Victoria, British Columbia, Canada.
-1978: Parents divorced, took solitude in Pro Wrestling.
-1990: Started training to become a Pro-wrestler and travelled around in indy scene
-1996: Known for reliable and rememberable heel work, He was invited to train in a dojo of a famous pro wrestler in Japan.
-2000: Signed onto the largest Pro-wrestling circuit in Japan and made his debut as a Heel.
-2006: Lost a close friend and tag team partner. Grief, sparked the ability to see the dead.
-2010: Became the Intercontinental champion
-2011: Lost his intercontinental belt to an up and coming wrestler and began his challenge for the heavyweight championship belt
-2014: Lost another close friend, Began to question if he should continue. Anxiety triggered his power
-2015: Made one last ditch effort to become a champion, even believed that he would win, but suddenly collapsed in ring.
-2015: Discovered that he has a terminal illness
-2016: Forced to Retire by the company, now living in Karakura.
[ ON THE SURFACE ]
Physical Description: Used to look like Adonis - body chiselled by Michelangelo, face like a hero and a wood the size of a - well, I’ll let the women and handsome men dream.
The reality is, I’m just a far cry from my days of romance. Body chiselled by Michelangelo has long been weathered down, sharp face grown weary from my two fronted fight against Father Time and Lady Gravity. They say that my eyes are the best feature. Empower the look of a villain they say - dark green eyes with sharp eye feature, like I’m always going after someone with mad look, like a bull seeing red. Now it just a weathered old look. Not too long ago I looked into the mirror and I see those pretty dark green eyes turned into a weathered pitiful, tired look, crow feets included. Not sure if it the illness’ doing or I’m just starting to become a bitter old man. Didn’t look at the mirror since then. Suppose that’s why I’ve started to grow a bit of a stubble around the ol’ sharp jaw of mine. Still got a strong chin, can take a ton of stiff punches, kicks, you know what. I won’t go down with a petty punch that’s for sure.
Still got a smile, all teeth in place and has no reason to leave. Ma and Pa gave me a smile that’ll never break, that’s something I’m deeply in gratitude - worth all the missing Birthday, Christmas presents combined. Funny that I only recently realised that.
Hair still reasonably long. I count my blessings that the hair hasn’t abandoned me. Lively brown with a streak of grey, creeping from the roots. Thought I’d try and fight it with dye, but I had better idea - They say that fine wine are better in age, I suppose that’s exactly what I am, a fine wine. Every so often, I pull out my fine comb, a bit of water and ease it back before I go out on my day to day business.
Stopped exercising long enough to maintain the high standards standards that wow the crowds and woo the ladies. Don’t have time for it, and doctor told me to go easy on the weights. But I still try and maintain the fit and healthy body. A little hair around the chest but that’s all part of the masculine flair. My lady friend talked about a ‘dad bod’ I suppose that would be easily be described, but I describe it as mature. Still see the outline of the abs, but gravity and age had gotten rather jealous maintaining my form over my young days.
Now, what do I wear? A bit of this, a bit of that. Never wear those Kimono, too fancy for me. Never once I have resorted in wearing Kimono, Instagram can vouch for me on that. I still got a wide variety set of clothes in my wardrobe, many are suit personally made by Armani, but I question if it a few size too big for me. Couldn’t have the heart to bin it, I could get it altered, at least one of them is perfect for my funeral.
Nowadays I just dressed casually. Got no job to go to and most of my friends are still on the road. So I just wear a Grey Tapered Jeans a black waistcoat with a white shirt underneath, all but one buttoned up, sleeves rolled up neatly. You bet I still hold a high standard, even in casual wear. If things get a little posh, I just take a jacket that’s all fit and snug In the winter, a black snorkel parka jacket - still got a soft spot for those jacket. You can take a man out of Canada, but you can never take Canada out of him. I also wear a dark brown low top trainers. There are times when I need my dose of light exercise, so I wear a matching grey sweat-pants and a hoodie and a white trainers. No more, no less. My fancy days is long gone.
How do you describe my voice? Masculine , deep, almost as if it been swilled and set in whiskey long enough to enrich the baritone voice in me. We got there in the end, but you’re right. Young years, we had all the time in the world, drank enough cocktail of alcohol. Despite the deep tone, there’s still tiredness in them, can’t talk too much or else it’ll just break and wither like everything else. Need them breaks in between, good thing I’m not an active talker.
On the upside, my wood still something to dream about.
Spiritual Description: Going to talk about that, huh? Well, it’s strange. I’ve heard other people with paranormal heebie jeebies their spiritual pressure is wild, like fire. Well, it’s anything but fire. It’s like a wave coursing through my body, every waves it made a weird throbbing noise, kinda scary if you ask me. The best way to describe the weird noise is like an unnatural groaning whoosh followed by a crunch. It occurs every five seconds and it kicks up whenever I kick off like that. Thankfully just the noise is enough to send those black luchadors in with their tails between their legs.
The colours of the waves of my soul is, well, colourful! It’s entirely random. Fickle, forever changing, much like the Aurora Borealis.
[ BEHIND THE EYES ]
Personality: How the second half of the chunk. You heard how much of a handsome - even at my age, now you get to hear how much of an astonishing person that I am.
I am a cheerful kinda guy who would just get along with everyone. If I was in a bar alone and I saw another fellow looking for a table, I’d tell him to come on over and allow me to listen to what you have to say. Let it out! It’s no good keeping it all within yourself, you know? I suppose that’s why I kept so much in me. Never see me have bad beef with anyone. I’m too old for that and I don’t have time for some petty grudge. Even if people speak about politics. I just, “forget it, talk about sports instead,” or ask them something specific that they let loose. I’m very good at that, picking up lines that they expect people to ignore and press them. Inquisitive mind I have, that’s for sure.
You like going into detail, I do too, very much! Being a man in the wrestling business. I find it important to understand what the opponent wants and what I want out of the feud and then we compromise. Diplomacy the key, without a keyhole we’d never be able to get anywhere.
I’m creative and charismatic. Two key things that I take pride in. Most of the ideas from wrestling feuds and wrestling persona were created by yours truly. It also helpful for picking up ladies in a rather lazy manner. All I need to do is just sit comfortable and watch the world go by and lo’ and behold, cute ass from a cute lady planted on the spare chair.
Just like every human being, heroes and villains, I am flawed. Shock, horror! There are a few things that grate a lot of people.
Hates being alone. I hate it. It’s pretty understandable considering of my situation, but it been like this long before my countdown. Crap childhood and few friends made me a rather needy person. There were few times I just tend to outstay my welcome and act like a stray pup looking for scrap. Pitiful, I know but it is what it is: Loneliness is a unscented, tasteless poison that warps the mind.
Ever had someone blow up on your face for little reason? I’m that man. I tend to flew off the handle over the smallest reason. Sometimes it just the way people say or their facial expressions or they’re just in a wrong place at the wrong time. Temperamental and cranky most of the time, I just want things to go my way - your plan sucks! Just accept mine or go half way is something that I have often thought many times.
When you’re in the wrestling business for so long, committing moves that looks like they can cause damage, but your sense of control stops it from turning it into a botch. I pride myself on not hurting people too much, but my sense of control leaks out to how I want to control my relationship. I manipulate our friendship in a way that benefit me. I suppose I am selfish, but damn it. I don’t have much time to live!
When all of my charisma or everyone is ignoring me. I tend to just went away with the fairies. I become distant and enamoured in writing or drawing doodles. I’m very much go into details on my creations, be it on drawing, writing or just statue made out of empty milk carton. Well, it's better that than drinking and taking drugs like back in the glory days.
Goals & Achievements: No regret is I am a fan of and I am glad that I don’t have any. I took one step forward and another and keep going until I finally clocked it. Also getting that belt is another, man not many foreigners would get those belt, so I am pleased.
I've made lots of amazing friends in my time and lost friends, either way. Living for as long as I could is an achievement in itself. Now, if you think I don't have a future? I suppose that's where you're wrong.
My goals now is to fill the gap, the void that I have right now, find a new hobby or find people to talk to? Doctors told me not to go crazy, but I feel fit as a fiddle so a little stressful work won’t hurt?
[ GUARDIAN ANGEL ]
Weapon of Choice: No weapons. “Any man with two hands has a fighting chance,” as the good man Ellsworth said.
Power: Well... I'm a little bit embarrassed by this but... you know that I'm dying, well...I am not entirely if I am dying, sure. My body seem to be just not there but whenever I bleed, there's no blood, but alcohol and not of the compound alcohol, I'm talking drink till you're topless alcohol. You see, I think I am running in alcohol beverages and my body is producing types of alcohol depending on how I eat. I like eating honey and water, it's produces mead.
So if Alcohol is in your blood, then why am I even alive...well. I believe the answer lies in the strength of alcohol. Are you familiar with Ambrosia, the food or drink of the gods. They say if anyone drinks it, they will be granted longevity or even Immortality. Although I don't think my 'blood' can do that, but if anyone drinks it, it accelerate the rate of restoration, or even change their mood. It's all up in the water since I've haven't explored much into my strength. Or if this really going to kill me, but I can tell you one thing. It's not flammable, so I consider myself lucky.
[ LEGACY CREATED ]
Origin: The final step, I hope you’re not slacking off right now? I’ll tell you my story, so get comfortable, drink that fancy coffee and accept the gentle tone of my tales.
Like every men and women before me, I was born in Victoria, British Columbia. A few years after my birth, the relationship between my parents has gotten turn for the worse. Citing stress and fallen out of love. If you ask me, I think that’s a load of hogwash. I don’t know much about my old man, but I know I can be a bit of a horndog myself - wouldn’t be surprised if he managed to slip the bread in the oven once too many often, if you know what I mean?
Staying with my mother who works all the time and sleeps whenever she comes home. I’d say that I had a lonely childhood. Never performed well in school other than sports. Good at Ice Hockey - always made sure that none get a comfortable time shooting the puck.
Mother always did say that she wanted another kid- a brother or a sister, but I know in her eyes that she was fooling herself. I suppose she knew that I was lonely, but there’s little that she can do - it’s either happiness or putting food on the plate.
Wrestling came to me by accident. One day, one of my schoolmates had the same looking bag and I took his bag. Inside it, was a Video Cassette and inside it was a 1978 WWWF match between Mr Fuji and Prof. Tanaka versus Jay Strongbow and Peter Mavia. Wasn’t even a main event, but I was hooked by the sheer romance of wrestling. To me it was escapism. Witnessing the soap opera through the boob tube, I was hooked. Took the Cassette and the bag back to school, looked the boy square in the eye and said…
“You got a friend for life.”
My friend, Robert, I think - difficult to remember now. We fell apart shortly after high school, He grew out of wrestling, but I was still hooked. I got fit, did all the running, even begged my mom for some weights. I became lean and even started doing the groundwork of wrestling. Thankfully there were a few wrestling school in Canada, some of them take their training rather seriously, and rightly so. But back then I was a dumb 16 years old who just wanted to be a hero like Hulk Hogan.
I tell you what, if anyone tells you that training to become a wrestler is a damned liar or not taking it seriously. I’ve seen many bright sparks at the same age as I am trying to make themselves out to be the man, but slowly, one by one they start to wither down into just two. Myself and my new life long friend, Johnny.
Johnny, well he’s a suave motherfucker for his young age. Definitely one of those who hang around with a bunch of cool kids. Him and I hit it off like a house on fire. He once told me that he was afraid to admit that he liked wrestling, but coming to the wrestling school help him quell that fears. We always trained together, practiced together, even became a tag team for the indie circuit.
Years on the road and doing various of matches in the indie circuit. Both myself and Johnny has proven to be popular and a famed dojo took some interest in us:
“Come and train with us! Come to Japan, it’ll be a grand opportunity,” they were right with the grand opportunity, but never did thought I would be there most of my life.
From there, we joined the biggest Japanese wrestling circuit and began our conquest in the Royal Road.
Then the phone rings, it was the boss. The boss? He never phoned me. Then it hits me. Something bad had happened.
And it was: Johnny dead. Found in the bathroom of his home. His heart gave away. All he said, just short, brief dialogue and a phone cut off.
Only word closest to how I felt that day was inconsolable and even that still a yard away. I think that's when I started to really hit the bottle, Took pills as well to wash the pain away, not to mention the nagging pain from wrestling. Don't get me wrong. I love wrestling, always abide by my choice of taking the long and winding road to wrestling, but a man can suddenly change when your life long friend died and all you got was a ten second phone call telling me that he's dead. Bet your ass that I am hurting.
Rise to Power: I was in a very dark dark world after Johnny’s funeral. Drinking, taking pills and even gotten myself in a fight. I often considered retiring but then I began to pile on the alcohol and fucked some women along the way. Looking back, I was a tool for mistreating women - always looking for less than a one night stand. There were things that I’m not entirely proud of, but I suppose those were influenced by phantoms. Dead roaming around, those Luchadores slinking about and weirdos in their funeral get-ups chasing after them. Never did bother me just the phantoms. Every time I close my eyes I see Johnny’s glazed up eyes staring back at me.
Eventually I gotten over it, especially when I received a call from the circuit telling me that I got a big match coming up. They were going to push me to the moon, so I better get sober and stay sober, no more me being a slob. Gotta get that little belt wrapped around my waist. Those Japanese, they’re cautious about strapping a belt on a foreigner, but I assured them. Until you find little use of me, I am staying. Never a fan of moving and the guys there always got my back.
Won the belt for the first time and I tell you what, I feel like a million bucks. Got more women fawning over me and men rooting for me. Shame that it wasn’t last. I lost the belt to a up and coming wrestler. Young kid - shows a lot of promise. Shame that he’s a bit of a prick.
By then, I’m getting pretty old by wrestling standards. I’m hardly Ric Flair, man’s unbreakable compared to me, but I was getting desperate. Gotten the jitters, the craving for those gold belts but I wanted the one that matters the most. The heavyweight championship belt.
They put up a tournament as the belt became vacated due to the holder’s severe injury and I was the wild card. They thought I could give a try and I hollered, “You bet your damn ass I’ll try!”
And I tried, I even felt the gold plate with my fingers. Just as I was about to do my signature bridging German Suplex, I felt the strange sensation, but I just let it slide, not going to let it hinder me, and then my body decided to give up. I slumped to the floor next to my opponent and the poor guy didn’t know what to do. So… with my only strength, I told him to pin me.
That’s hurts, but nothing compared to what comes next.
The Doctor was unsure what’s going on, but he confirmed that my body is slowly in the process of dying. ‘But that’s can’t be!’ I looked at him with wide eyed, but the man with the white coat was solemn with his response.
Well damn, since he put it that way, I guess he is right. The business decided that it is best to remove me from the cards and pressured me to retire. Can’t blame then, after Johnny I doubt they want any negative mark. So, I took a bow and stepped away.
That’s how it is, I’m afraid.
Call to Action: Forced to retire from the business and my death clock seems to be ticking faster than a healthy person, I’m left wondering what on earth I should do. I was smart enough to squirrel away my savings over the year in case like this would happen, made sure good investment blooms and now I have little need to work. Of course the business made sure that I’m covered, but I told them, “there’s no need.”
Just that, I do like a little company now and then, things has gotten too boring for me now. Maybe I’ll try out those Karakura Spiritual Network business. They don’t have to know about my health. I know they kept that a secret from everyone.
Former Champion/Dying
[ AT A GLANCE ]
Age / Apparent Age: 42
Gender: Male
Height & Weight: 6'00 & 150 lbs
Hair & Eye Color: Greying brown, Green.
Positive Traits: Dynamic, Self-reliant, Peaceful.
Negative Traits: Cocksure, self-indulgent, Sarcastic
Loyalties: Self and his old crew who are long since dead or refuses to speak to him.
Snapshots:
-1974: Born in Victoria, British Columbia, Canada.
-1978: Parents divorced, took solitude in Pro Wrestling.
-1990: Started training to become a Pro-wrestler and travelled around in indy scene
-1996: Known for reliable and rememberable heel work, He was invited to train in a dojo of a famous pro wrestler in Japan.
-2000: Signed onto the largest Pro-wrestling circuit in Japan and made his debut as a Heel.
-2006: Lost a close friend and tag team partner. Grief, sparked the ability to see the dead.
-2010: Became the Intercontinental champion
-2011: Lost his intercontinental belt to an up and coming wrestler and began his challenge for the heavyweight championship belt
-2014: Lost another close friend, Began to question if he should continue. Anxiety triggered his power
-2015: Made one last ditch effort to become a champion, even believed that he would win, but suddenly collapsed in ring.
-2015: Discovered that he has a terminal illness
-2016: Forced to Retire by the company, now living in Karakura.
[ ON THE SURFACE ]
Physical Description: Used to look like Adonis - body chiselled by Michelangelo, face like a hero and a wood the size of a - well, I’ll let the women and handsome men dream.
The reality is, I’m just a far cry from my days of romance. Body chiselled by Michelangelo has long been weathered down, sharp face grown weary from my two fronted fight against Father Time and Lady Gravity. They say that my eyes are the best feature. Empower the look of a villain they say - dark green eyes with sharp eye feature, like I’m always going after someone with mad look, like a bull seeing red. Now it just a weathered old look. Not too long ago I looked into the mirror and I see those pretty dark green eyes turned into a weathered pitiful, tired look, crow feets included. Not sure if it the illness’ doing or I’m just starting to become a bitter old man. Didn’t look at the mirror since then. Suppose that’s why I’ve started to grow a bit of a stubble around the ol’ sharp jaw of mine. Still got a strong chin, can take a ton of stiff punches, kicks, you know what. I won’t go down with a petty punch that’s for sure.
Still got a smile, all teeth in place and has no reason to leave. Ma and Pa gave me a smile that’ll never break, that’s something I’m deeply in gratitude - worth all the missing Birthday, Christmas presents combined. Funny that I only recently realised that.
Hair still reasonably long. I count my blessings that the hair hasn’t abandoned me. Lively brown with a streak of grey, creeping from the roots. Thought I’d try and fight it with dye, but I had better idea - They say that fine wine are better in age, I suppose that’s exactly what I am, a fine wine. Every so often, I pull out my fine comb, a bit of water and ease it back before I go out on my day to day business.
Stopped exercising long enough to maintain the high standards standards that wow the crowds and woo the ladies. Don’t have time for it, and doctor told me to go easy on the weights. But I still try and maintain the fit and healthy body. A little hair around the chest but that’s all part of the masculine flair. My lady friend talked about a ‘dad bod’ I suppose that would be easily be described, but I describe it as mature. Still see the outline of the abs, but gravity and age had gotten rather jealous maintaining my form over my young days.
Now, what do I wear? A bit of this, a bit of that. Never wear those Kimono, too fancy for me. Never once I have resorted in wearing Kimono, Instagram can vouch for me on that. I still got a wide variety set of clothes in my wardrobe, many are suit personally made by Armani, but I question if it a few size too big for me. Couldn’t have the heart to bin it, I could get it altered, at least one of them is perfect for my funeral.
Nowadays I just dressed casually. Got no job to go to and most of my friends are still on the road. So I just wear a Grey Tapered Jeans a black waistcoat with a white shirt underneath, all but one buttoned up, sleeves rolled up neatly. You bet I still hold a high standard, even in casual wear. If things get a little posh, I just take a jacket that’s all fit and snug In the winter, a black snorkel parka jacket - still got a soft spot for those jacket. You can take a man out of Canada, but you can never take Canada out of him. I also wear a dark brown low top trainers. There are times when I need my dose of light exercise, so I wear a matching grey sweat-pants and a hoodie and a white trainers. No more, no less. My fancy days is long gone.
How do you describe my voice? Masculine , deep, almost as if it been swilled and set in whiskey long enough to enrich the baritone voice in me. We got there in the end, but you’re right. Young years, we had all the time in the world, drank enough cocktail of alcohol. Despite the deep tone, there’s still tiredness in them, can’t talk too much or else it’ll just break and wither like everything else. Need them breaks in between, good thing I’m not an active talker.
On the upside, my wood still something to dream about.
Spiritual Description: Going to talk about that, huh? Well, it’s strange. I’ve heard other people with paranormal heebie jeebies their spiritual pressure is wild, like fire. Well, it’s anything but fire. It’s like a wave coursing through my body, every waves it made a weird throbbing noise, kinda scary if you ask me. The best way to describe the weird noise is like an unnatural groaning whoosh followed by a crunch. It occurs every five seconds and it kicks up whenever I kick off like that. Thankfully just the noise is enough to send those black luchadors in with their tails between their legs.
The colours of the waves of my soul is, well, colourful! It’s entirely random. Fickle, forever changing, much like the Aurora Borealis.
[ BEHIND THE EYES ]
Personality: How the second half of the chunk. You heard how much of a handsome - even at my age, now you get to hear how much of an astonishing person that I am.
I am a cheerful kinda guy who would just get along with everyone. If I was in a bar alone and I saw another fellow looking for a table, I’d tell him to come on over and allow me to listen to what you have to say. Let it out! It’s no good keeping it all within yourself, you know? I suppose that’s why I kept so much in me. Never see me have bad beef with anyone. I’m too old for that and I don’t have time for some petty grudge. Even if people speak about politics. I just, “forget it, talk about sports instead,” or ask them something specific that they let loose. I’m very good at that, picking up lines that they expect people to ignore and press them. Inquisitive mind I have, that’s for sure.
You like going into detail, I do too, very much! Being a man in the wrestling business. I find it important to understand what the opponent wants and what I want out of the feud and then we compromise. Diplomacy the key, without a keyhole we’d never be able to get anywhere.
I’m creative and charismatic. Two key things that I take pride in. Most of the ideas from wrestling feuds and wrestling persona were created by yours truly. It also helpful for picking up ladies in a rather lazy manner. All I need to do is just sit comfortable and watch the world go by and lo’ and behold, cute ass from a cute lady planted on the spare chair.
Just like every human being, heroes and villains, I am flawed. Shock, horror! There are a few things that grate a lot of people.
Hates being alone. I hate it. It’s pretty understandable considering of my situation, but it been like this long before my countdown. Crap childhood and few friends made me a rather needy person. There were few times I just tend to outstay my welcome and act like a stray pup looking for scrap. Pitiful, I know but it is what it is: Loneliness is a unscented, tasteless poison that warps the mind.
Ever had someone blow up on your face for little reason? I’m that man. I tend to flew off the handle over the smallest reason. Sometimes it just the way people say or their facial expressions or they’re just in a wrong place at the wrong time. Temperamental and cranky most of the time, I just want things to go my way - your plan sucks! Just accept mine or go half way is something that I have often thought many times.
When you’re in the wrestling business for so long, committing moves that looks like they can cause damage, but your sense of control stops it from turning it into a botch. I pride myself on not hurting people too much, but my sense of control leaks out to how I want to control my relationship. I manipulate our friendship in a way that benefit me. I suppose I am selfish, but damn it. I don’t have much time to live!
When all of my charisma or everyone is ignoring me. I tend to just went away with the fairies. I become distant and enamoured in writing or drawing doodles. I’m very much go into details on my creations, be it on drawing, writing or just statue made out of empty milk carton. Well, it's better that than drinking and taking drugs like back in the glory days.
Goals & Achievements: No regret is I am a fan of and I am glad that I don’t have any. I took one step forward and another and keep going until I finally clocked it. Also getting that belt is another, man not many foreigners would get those belt, so I am pleased.
I've made lots of amazing friends in my time and lost friends, either way. Living for as long as I could is an achievement in itself. Now, if you think I don't have a future? I suppose that's where you're wrong.
My goals now is to fill the gap, the void that I have right now, find a new hobby or find people to talk to? Doctors told me not to go crazy, but I feel fit as a fiddle so a little stressful work won’t hurt?
[ GUARDIAN ANGEL ]
Weapon of Choice: No weapons. “Any man with two hands has a fighting chance,” as the good man Ellsworth said.
Power: Well... I'm a little bit embarrassed by this but... you know that I'm dying, well...I am not entirely if I am dying, sure. My body seem to be just not there but whenever I bleed, there's no blood, but alcohol and not of the compound alcohol, I'm talking drink till you're topless alcohol. You see, I think I am running in alcohol beverages and my body is producing types of alcohol depending on how I eat. I like eating honey and water, it's produces mead.
So if Alcohol is in your blood, then why am I even alive...well. I believe the answer lies in the strength of alcohol. Are you familiar with Ambrosia, the food or drink of the gods. They say if anyone drinks it, they will be granted longevity or even Immortality. Although I don't think my 'blood' can do that, but if anyone drinks it, it accelerate the rate of restoration, or even change their mood. It's all up in the water since I've haven't explored much into my strength. Or if this really going to kill me, but I can tell you one thing. It's not flammable, so I consider myself lucky.
[ LEGACY CREATED ]
Origin: The final step, I hope you’re not slacking off right now? I’ll tell you my story, so get comfortable, drink that fancy coffee and accept the gentle tone of my tales.
Like every men and women before me, I was born in Victoria, British Columbia. A few years after my birth, the relationship between my parents has gotten turn for the worse. Citing stress and fallen out of love. If you ask me, I think that’s a load of hogwash. I don’t know much about my old man, but I know I can be a bit of a horndog myself - wouldn’t be surprised if he managed to slip the bread in the oven once too many often, if you know what I mean?
Staying with my mother who works all the time and sleeps whenever she comes home. I’d say that I had a lonely childhood. Never performed well in school other than sports. Good at Ice Hockey - always made sure that none get a comfortable time shooting the puck.
Mother always did say that she wanted another kid- a brother or a sister, but I know in her eyes that she was fooling herself. I suppose she knew that I was lonely, but there’s little that she can do - it’s either happiness or putting food on the plate.
Wrestling came to me by accident. One day, one of my schoolmates had the same looking bag and I took his bag. Inside it, was a Video Cassette and inside it was a 1978 WWWF match between Mr Fuji and Prof. Tanaka versus Jay Strongbow and Peter Mavia. Wasn’t even a main event, but I was hooked by the sheer romance of wrestling. To me it was escapism. Witnessing the soap opera through the boob tube, I was hooked. Took the Cassette and the bag back to school, looked the boy square in the eye and said…
“You got a friend for life.”
My friend, Robert, I think - difficult to remember now. We fell apart shortly after high school, He grew out of wrestling, but I was still hooked. I got fit, did all the running, even begged my mom for some weights. I became lean and even started doing the groundwork of wrestling. Thankfully there were a few wrestling school in Canada, some of them take their training rather seriously, and rightly so. But back then I was a dumb 16 years old who just wanted to be a hero like Hulk Hogan.
I tell you what, if anyone tells you that training to become a wrestler is a damned liar or not taking it seriously. I’ve seen many bright sparks at the same age as I am trying to make themselves out to be the man, but slowly, one by one they start to wither down into just two. Myself and my new life long friend, Johnny.
Johnny, well he’s a suave motherfucker for his young age. Definitely one of those who hang around with a bunch of cool kids. Him and I hit it off like a house on fire. He once told me that he was afraid to admit that he liked wrestling, but coming to the wrestling school help him quell that fears. We always trained together, practiced together, even became a tag team for the indie circuit.
Years on the road and doing various of matches in the indie circuit. Both myself and Johnny has proven to be popular and a famed dojo took some interest in us:
“Come and train with us! Come to Japan, it’ll be a grand opportunity,” they were right with the grand opportunity, but never did thought I would be there most of my life.
From there, we joined the biggest Japanese wrestling circuit and began our conquest in the Royal Road.
Then the phone rings, it was the boss. The boss? He never phoned me. Then it hits me. Something bad had happened.
And it was: Johnny dead. Found in the bathroom of his home. His heart gave away. All he said, just short, brief dialogue and a phone cut off.
Only word closest to how I felt that day was inconsolable and even that still a yard away. I think that's when I started to really hit the bottle, Took pills as well to wash the pain away, not to mention the nagging pain from wrestling. Don't get me wrong. I love wrestling, always abide by my choice of taking the long and winding road to wrestling, but a man can suddenly change when your life long friend died and all you got was a ten second phone call telling me that he's dead. Bet your ass that I am hurting.
Rise to Power: I was in a very dark dark world after Johnny’s funeral. Drinking, taking pills and even gotten myself in a fight. I often considered retiring but then I began to pile on the alcohol and fucked some women along the way. Looking back, I was a tool for mistreating women - always looking for less than a one night stand. There were things that I’m not entirely proud of, but I suppose those were influenced by phantoms. Dead roaming around, those Luchadores slinking about and weirdos in their funeral get-ups chasing after them. Never did bother me just the phantoms. Every time I close my eyes I see Johnny’s glazed up eyes staring back at me.
Eventually I gotten over it, especially when I received a call from the circuit telling me that I got a big match coming up. They were going to push me to the moon, so I better get sober and stay sober, no more me being a slob. Gotta get that little belt wrapped around my waist. Those Japanese, they’re cautious about strapping a belt on a foreigner, but I assured them. Until you find little use of me, I am staying. Never a fan of moving and the guys there always got my back.
Won the belt for the first time and I tell you what, I feel like a million bucks. Got more women fawning over me and men rooting for me. Shame that it wasn’t last. I lost the belt to a up and coming wrestler. Young kid - shows a lot of promise. Shame that he’s a bit of a prick.
By then, I’m getting pretty old by wrestling standards. I’m hardly Ric Flair, man’s unbreakable compared to me, but I was getting desperate. Gotten the jitters, the craving for those gold belts but I wanted the one that matters the most. The heavyweight championship belt.
They put up a tournament as the belt became vacated due to the holder’s severe injury and I was the wild card. They thought I could give a try and I hollered, “You bet your damn ass I’ll try!”
And I tried, I even felt the gold plate with my fingers. Just as I was about to do my signature bridging German Suplex, I felt the strange sensation, but I just let it slide, not going to let it hinder me, and then my body decided to give up. I slumped to the floor next to my opponent and the poor guy didn’t know what to do. So… with my only strength, I told him to pin me.
That’s hurts, but nothing compared to what comes next.
The Doctor was unsure what’s going on, but he confirmed that my body is slowly in the process of dying. ‘But that’s can’t be!’ I looked at him with wide eyed, but the man with the white coat was solemn with his response.
Well damn, since he put it that way, I guess he is right. The business decided that it is best to remove me from the cards and pressured me to retire. Can’t blame then, after Johnny I doubt they want any negative mark. So, I took a bow and stepped away.
That’s how it is, I’m afraid.
Call to Action: Forced to retire from the business and my death clock seems to be ticking faster than a healthy person, I’m left wondering what on earth I should do. I was smart enough to squirrel away my savings over the year in case like this would happen, made sure good investment blooms and now I have little need to work. Of course the business made sure that I’m covered, but I told them, “there’s no need.”
Just that, I do like a little company now and then, things has gotten too boring for me now. Maybe I’ll try out those Karakura Spiritual Network business. They don’t have to know about my health. I know they kept that a secret from everyone.
