Post by Peter Vaughn on Aug 14, 2022 13:28:31 GMT -5
The Road So Far:
The Search For A Mother Figure, Finale
Trying To Be Family Again, For The First Time...
For most people, the day you reconnect with a missing loved one would be a monumental event.
For Peter Vaughn, that day turned out to be a Sunday.
Vaughn, along with his half-brother, Thomas Hill, managed to free their mother from her constant pursuit from the underground agency, the Society. It seems like that group has collapsed, although others will likely step in. Empty space is never tolerated in the lines of power. Since Vaughn's victory, however, things have not gone smoothly between himself and his mother. No matter what the circumstances of her disappearance, there's nothing that changes the fact that Angela Hill abandoned her husband and son. At least, not according to Vaughn.
An attempt at a family dinner went exceptionally badly. Since then, Vaughn has stayed away from his family, concentrating on two specific things: continuing his powerful 2022 wrestling career, and fixing up his ranch, which he bought several months ago using part of the winnings from the PWV Roth Tournament. The ranch house itself has mainly been completed and is a beauty of design and comfort. The ranch itself, though? That's still a work in progress.
August 14th, 2022
~The picture comes up on a shot of a tractor. Not just any tractor, though. It's a John Deere 6120M AutoPowr Utility Tractor, one of the finest on the market. For anyone who knows tractors, they're drooling right now. For those that don't, just picture a shiny Corvette and you'll understand the craftsmanship that's in front of us. Unfortunately, the actual maintenance on the tractor is a pain in the ass. We see legs underneath the tractor, tinkering away on the hydraulics. There's a slight release of air, followed by the tightening of a couple of bolts. A hand reaches out from underneath, feeling around, reaching for the nearby toolbox, but it's slightly out of reach. The arm stretches further... as a foot comes into view, pushing the toolbox into range. The hand, feeling it, finds the wrench it was looking for and goes back underneath.~
Peter: Okay, this time you're going to submit, tractor. Even if takes all... my... might... Yahhh!!
~There's the sound of something coming loose, finally, which gets a triumphant cheer from Vaughn. It's the sound other wrestlers have heard just before they're impacted into the canvas. Thankfully for the tractor, Vaughn has no intention of destroying anything today. He finishes up, then scoots backwards, dusting himself off. That's when he finally notices the person standing over him, reaching down to offer a hand up.~
Angela: Hello, Peter... sounds like you got what you were looking for.
~Vaughn stares at his mother for a moment, not responding, then pulls himself up, ignoring her hand. He walks away, grabbing a rag to quickly clean off some of the grease from his fingers.~
Peter: I didn't know you knew where the ranch was... Mother...
Angela: Thomas passed on the address to me. I hope that's okay.
Peter: I'll have to thank him for that later.
~Vaughn reaches onto the workbench, getting what looks to be some sort of rotor. He goes to the back of the tractor, working on it, as his mother steps to the side, watching him.~
Angela: You know, your dad was always good with his hands, too. I guess that's where you got it from. You certainly didn't get any technical skills from my side of the family.
Peter: No, Mom. Only your ruthlessness.
~That remark seems to land, as Angela takes a step back, a saddened look on her face.~
Angela: Son... I...
~Vaughn finishes what he's working on, getting up. He glances over Angela's way.~
Peter: So why are you here, Mom? Planning to invite me to another fun-filled dinner? I've got a lot of work to do here. If you just wanted to talk, we could have used the phone.
Angela: Not if you never answer when I call.
Peter: I have new programming on my phone now. It tells me when a scam is likely.
~Vaughn heads towards the door, having finished his maintenance work on the tractor. Angela looks after him, sighing. At the doorway, though, Vaughn looks back.~
Peter: Are you coming?
~Angela, deciding to see it as a glass-half-full situation, moves after Vaughn, who is on his way to another project.~
I've always been a fan of working with my hands.
It's a universal trait that works throughout my many careers. The same hands that can correct the distributor timing in my truck's engine can be used to smash a superstar's spirit with a submission.
Pardon the alliteration there, I couldn't help myself.
It looks like I get to use my God-given gifts again at EXP 30. I face off against Emily Simms, and for once, I don't have to worry about a tag-team partner interfering or slipping up. This time, it gets to just be me and Simms, brawling it out. You could say this is a pretty important match for both of us, really. I've been unable to get much momentum in Level Up as of late, despite holding the Game Genie. Simms has struggled as well, more so than me. I mean, I've lost some tag-team matches where my partners have been pinned, but Simms got herself locked onto the mat and taken out by Demi Stratford a few shows ago, and I don't know if she's recovered yet.
You could say that Emi is in need of a rebound victory. Too bad that they decided to put the two of us together, isn't it?
You may be a high-flyer, EMS. But everything you can do through the air, I can do better. I've perfected my craft over the last year, making myself one of the most unpredictable and chaotic high-flyers in the business. I plan to outthink you on every move you try to pull off, showing you how it's done when I turn the tables on you. I personally believe I've got the speed AND strength edge in this one. Both should come in handy in laying you out.
So you might think, best chance is to go for the technical side of things. Try and trap me in submissions, make me tap out. Honestly, I think that's your best bet, and yet there's one major problem I see: I don't plan to give you a victory like that over me, because I see no way that you could make the pain intense enough for me to give up. I don't believe you have it in you, and I know for a fact that I don't have any quit inside of me.
Sure, if I happened to be in a position where my career was in danger, I might consider tapping out and playing the long game. But you don't have the strength or the tenacity to put me in that position. Hence, I'll be perfectly fine escaping your holds and showing you a few of my own.
I don't think I've made anyone tap out in Level Up yet. It's not my usual bag. But you could be the first, EMS. Wouldn't that be a kick in the lass?
~Angela has joined her son outside now, further down on the acreage. Vaughn is currently working on using a machine to install fence posts, slamming them in at specified distances, as he begins to build a corral. Angela looks on, watching another post go in, then shakes her head.~
Angela: I'm surprised you're not doing all of this by hand.
Peter: I tried that at first. It takes too long, I'll never get this fence completed. This machine works extremely well at its job, why not take advantage of it?
Angela: How much did it cost you?
Peter: I got it on sale. Now, you want to tell me why you're out here again? I doubt it's to enjoy this lovely Texas sun in August...
~The sun is indeed baking down on both of them. You can tell that even Angela is sweating, despite not doing any of the work. She shrugs her shoulders, thinking her reasons should be obvious.~
Angela: I'm here to interact with my son, of course. If this is the only way I can do it, then so be it. You want to give me a turn on that? I bet I can work it just as well as you can.
~Angela steps forward, offering to take over the machine. Vaughn hesitates, but reluctantly hands over the controls. Angela works on it, trying to make sure she has everything lined up. She presses the button... and nothing happens. Confused, she presses it again, but the machine has gone quiet.~
Peter: There's a safety pedal on the bottom that you have to press to use the machine. I suppose it got put there when some idiot staked themselves. We always have to have protection from stupidity nowadays.
~Angela presses down on the pedal, starting the engine up again. She presses the button, managing to get the fence post stuck into the ground. She smiles, moving the machine away, as Vaughn considers her work.~
Peter: Hmmm. It's a couple of inches off-center. But otherwise, it'll do.
Angela: Oh, I don't know, it looks pretty even to me...
Peter: Trust me. It's not.
~Vaughn pulls out some wire, beginning to string it between the posts. Angela steps forward to attempt to help, but the wire is sharper than she expected. She steps back, gasping as she shakes her hand in pain. Vaughn, seeing it, sighs and steps up, pulling an old handkerchief out of his back pocket to help with any bleeding.~
Angela: That smarts!
Peter: C'mon, I've got some bandages in the house... man, I'm never going to get this done...
~The two walk away from the now-slightly-bloody wire, as we cut away.~
Thankfully for Sim City, she is unlikely to be seeing her blood flowing at EXP 30.
I mean, anything can happen. But without it being a hardcore contest, the odds go down, don't they? Plus, of course, our being in Level Up.
It's an interesting phenomenon I've noticed during my time here. In other federations, I tend to be a bit more... violent. In the XWF, I'm preparing for a Last Man Rising match with Calypso, where it's possible he won't be walking afterwards. In PWV, I'm going to be in a drunken brawl for the Unity Titles, alongside SEB. That one's surely going to get messy. But here in Level Up? I don't know, maybe it's the gaming atmosphere, but I never feel like I'm coming into the ring to murder someone.
I don't know if I'm missing that feeling or not.
I suppose I could come in and pretend we're in Street Fighter or Mortal Kombat, but it just wouldn't be the same. Sure, it'd be fun to rig up some equipment and have a fireball-blasting device on my wrist, but they'd never let that come to ringside. Too much liability for the crowd, I'm sure. I wonder if they'd allow a hook gun, so I could say "Get Over Here!!" .... Nah, not a chance.
So I'm not coming to the ring to kill you, EMS. I'm not even coming to maim you. Personally, if I had the opportunity to pin you before we even got going, keeping your shoulders on the mat for the 1-2-3 in extremely rapid fashion, I'd take advantage of it. I'm needing a victory here, not a blood rush of violence. I'll be getting that elsewhere.
Would you fall for the quick pin out of nowhere? Would you be vulnerable to the tights pulled, the feet on the ropes, the quick count? Something tells me it's possible, and yeah, the fans wouldn't cheer for it, but it's not always about them, is it? It's about the wrestlers, and us moving forward in the pecking order.
I just need another mark in the win column, EMS, which should really make you more relaxed coming into this one. If I wanted to break you, I would. If I wanted to dislocate a kneecap or bruise up a spinal cord, I'd make it happen.
But you don't bring those feelings to the surface from me. In fact, I barely care about you at all.
But you'll care, EMS, especially when you're taking the Plunge. You'll care a lot.
~We're inside the recently refurbished ranch house of Peter Vaughn. The two of them are in the kitchen, with Angela having washed and soaped her wound before Vaughn dries it off and applies a couple of bandages.~
Peter: I don't think you'll need stitches. It's a pretty clean cut.
Angela: It's funny. I was always the one who did this for you. Remember when you slipped on the stairs and cracked your elbow? You were in so much pain...
Peter: Fortunately, I learned to deal with pain myself. Turned out I didn't need you for it after all.
~Vaughn roughly finishes bandaging the hand and steps away, going to the fridge. He pulls out a cold beer, popping the top and taking a drink. He doesn't get one for his mother, probably a not-too-subtle warning that he's ready for her to leave. But Angela pops down into a seat at the kitchen table instead.~
Angela: I know things are pretty broken between us, Peter. But I'm going to keep trying to fix things.
Peter: Isn't it a little late for that, Mom? You abandoned us. My father died before knowing that you were still around. He probably thought he would see you in Heaven, following his religion. I knew better, then and now.
Angela: You hate me for what I did when you were younger. I understand. I hate myself too, at times. But that's not changing the fact that we have a second chance, Peter. You, me, and Thomas. Very few ever get a second chance...
Peter: A second chance to what? Act like we could be a normal family? It's never going to happen. I'm not built for that sort of thing, not anymore. So you and Thomas? You two make a go of it. If he forgives you, then that's on him. But as for us, it's...
~Vaughn can't finish the sentence. He shakes his head, taking another drink of his beer. He doesn't appear to be appreciating the taste of it right now, setting it down to the side. He turns, ready to walk out and go back to work.~
Angela: They're looking for us, Peter. The Society and some of their allies, the ones still in business.
~He stops for a moment, looking back over his shoulder at his estranged mother.~
Peter: I assumed they would be. I look forward to them trying anything against me.
Angela: Against us, Peter. We have to be together against them.
~Vaughn steps to the side, opening up a cabinet he had personally built. There are several weapons to choose from in there, including what appears to be an AR-15.~
Peter: If they come for me, I'm ready for them. If they come for you... good luck.
Angela: And if they come for Thomas??
~That one gets a double take from Vaughn. But he has no answer for her. Instead, he turns and walks out the door, leaving Angela to pull herself together... and head home. We fade out.~
