Post by tirri on Aug 24, 2021 4:33:10 GMT -5
Remember where you come from (offcam)
It had been a long day, training with Donny both in the gym and in the ring. But I got a bunch of good news when a contractor I had hired stopped me on the way in and told me the project was finished. This piqued Donny’s interest because I had been extremely tight-lipped about the construction happening on the side of the house.
“So, are you NOW finally gonna tell me what you cooked up?” the kid piped up, both annoyed and intrigued. I took a measure of amusement from his reaction. And I couldn’t wait for his reaction when he finally found out.
“Just head out for a few hours, work up a sweat, do whatever you want. Come back at say, 8pm and meet me in the new room. Capisce? I added with a grin. Donny rolled his eyes, but nodded.
Ever since that trip to russia I had struggled with my national identity. Sure, I was Finnish by birth, but after having spent such a long time here in the US, my connection to Finland had faded. So I had decided to do something about it, a little something to remind me of where I came from, little something that would teach Donny about his roots as well.
So the hours passed as I prepared everything, until 8pm rolled around and Donny returned. I greeted him at the door of the new room, seeing the impatience in his eyes. “So, can we FiNALLY get this done pops?”
I nodded and swung the door open. “Welcome to a little piece of Finland” and stepped in.
Donny followed, looking curious. He scanned the room and frowned. “It’s a bathroom. We already have one pops.”
I chuckled. “Not just a bathroom. This my boy, is an honest-to-god Finnish SAUNA!” I turned around and grabbed a handle of the door I had been standing infront of and swung it open. We were both hit with a wave of heat from the room and I immediately fell into a nostalgic wave.
“Sauna?” Donny questioned, peering in. “We got those things in almost every damn gym and spa. Whats so special about this?”
“Those? Those aren’t Saunas. Those are heatrooms at best. This has been built to a whole different standard, from the paneling to the seats to the wood-burning stove and the rocks on it. So yeah. Get undressed, grab a drink from that cooler and lets enjoy it”
And we did so. With a beer a piece in hand, we sat down on the top shelf and leant back. The heat was nice and high, 90celsius or about 190 fahrenheit. I could see Donny was struggling as the public “saunas” they had used a lot, LOT lower temperatures. I chuckled and threw some water on the stove, the heat causing the kid to wince. “C’mon Donny, sit straight up and enjoy the heat. The one thing I’ve missed from back home has been a proper Sauna, and now I got it.”
Donny stared at me from under his brows. “Can you actually enjoy this kind of heat? Fucking hell…”
“You’ll get used to it. You got it in your blood. See, back home this is the ultimate luxury, a sauna of your own. Ain’t nothing more relaxing after a hard day's work than to come here and unwind. Sweat the shit out and just let the heat cleanse you.” I smirked and threw more water on the stones.
We sat in silence for a while, Donny refusing to crouch down, a fact that made me smile. Ultimately I sighed. This all had a point and it was time I got to it. “Hey kid… no, Donny. Never forget where you come from.”
The kid looked at me, raising an eyebrow. “Whatcha mean pops?”
I took a sip of my beer and gathered my thoughts. “You’ve signed your first pro-contract. Soon you’ll be zipping around the country and the world working. Sooner than later that little town in Brighton, England is gonna be a faint memory. You’ll be announced from there, but as years pass and you think back to it, it’s just a name on the map. Even more so if you make it big. When things start going your way, you can easily lose sight of who you were and where you come from.” I took a small break, letting my words sink in to Donny. “As long as you remember your beginnings… you can stay humble. And being humble is the only way to make it in this biz in the long run. Had I been humble and smart 20 years ago, who knows. Maybe you had a dad growing up” I left off with a bitter tone. I was gonna carry that pain forever. To a point I sometimes wished Donny never entered my life. But it is what it is.
The kid pondered my words, giving me an odd look. “What prompted this? I know I signed my first contract, but still…” he sipped his beer. “C’mon pops, talk to me.”
I was slightly irritated by his ability to see through me. I began staring at the ceiling, willing myself to talk. “You’re too much like me Donny. You might have Beau’s endless patience on the surface, but I’ve seen that temper flare. You’re deep down just a hothead like I am. I know the shit I’ve gotten mixed into over the years, and I’ve seen how a fellow hothead like me, Knox, has gotten himself into fights no sane man wants to take. Hell, Bert ain’t much different either. What I’m trying to say is Donny… don’t be me. Don’t burn bridges. And don’t be a Knox. Don’t get into fights where wins are pyrrhic at best. I don’t wanna wake up one morning and find you in a hospital with a broken baseball bat struck through your shoulder… or with half of your facial bones shattered. This business is rough even at the best of times... No need to add to it further.”
Before Donny could respond, I raised my hand to signal that I wasn’t finished, just needed a second to gather my thoughts. “What I’m ultimately trying to say kid, is that you coming to my life was probably the luckiest break I’ve ever gotten. With the possible exception of Angie, but I don’t wanna rank you two. And this…” I gestured around me to the room. “Is my way of trying to tell you that no matter who you become, where you got and what you accomplish… Finland will always be part of your legacy. And as selfish as it might sound, small things like that are my way of trying to remind you that I am in your life. I don’t want either of us go back to living like the other didn’t exist. We’ve both spent most of our lives without a father, even if mine was the latter half and by choice. I owe you a lot Donny… and I don’t want you to forget me.” There it was. The nagging worry that had been eating away at me. The worry that once he got his taste of the biz, he’d fly out of the nest and forget about me. A selfish worry yes, but I couldn’t help it.
We both sat in silence. I took sideways glances at Donny, wondering what he was thinking. His expression betrayed nothing, so when he finally spoke I had no idea what to expect. “Don’t worry Pops. Taking care of mum taught me one thing… Never take anything for granted. She was there one day, and the next she was bedridden and the one after… she was gone. So no matter how successful I get… Don’t worry. I won’t forget who I am. And as far as being a hothead…” he glanced at me and gave a boyish smirk. “I’ll never take a fight I can’t win.”
I rolled my eyes. “Not exactly what I was looking for, but I guess that’s the best I can get from you.” I grumbled like the old fart I am, causing Donny to give a small laugh.
We then sat in silence as I mulled over his words. Cheeky finish aside, what he said reminded me that for his young age, he has gone through a lot. I had a rotten relationship with my parents, so I could never truly imagine the pain he went through watching his mother fade away to cancer. Like me, he had been forged in a fire harsher than anyone should be. But there was a key difference. My trials were of my own doing. His? Bad luck. I reached over and patted him in the back. “I don’t know why I’m worried kid. You’ll do just fine”
He raised his beer at me and nodded, reaching over to throw some more water on the stones.
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Calling Uncle Tirri (offcam)
He turned out the roach of the joint in his ashtray and let out a tired sigh. The skies over Indy seemed off. Everything did since he found out the fucking clown had been in his home. A cursory glance over his shoulder spied Nao happily doting away in the kitchen. Perfectly distracted.
He pulled out his cracked Android Samsung something or other and opened his contacts. He scrolled to D, looked confused, then remembered and scrolled further. He had let her rearrange their contacts.
At least this one wasn't in Japanese. He had called Queeny to order a pizza. It got weird.
Uncle Tirri
Calling . . . .
“What’s up Bert” came the coarse voice from the other end as Tirri picked up. The finn had been working out on the ring in his backyard, and a call was a good excuse to take a break. “Was a bit surprised when you said you’d call”
"Yeah...yeah but like, not a huge range of options. Not really in the mood to hear any of Knox's 'wisdom'" he trailed off, shifting in his seat. The thoughts crowded in his chest, after realizing he'd gone quiet he spat out some small talk.
"Feeling confident in your shot at Duncan? I think you've got it personally. No Tact around to bitch up the gears."
A small chuckle from the other end. “Shepard ain’t no joke. But I got a gameplan. And Donny’s been running me ragged preparing me for the match. I do kinda find it funny to see Tact in the Platformer earlier in the night. But I digress. What can I do for ya? If it’s something you don’t want Knox’ take on, it’s gotta be good.” A small pause and we hear a door close, as Tirri walks into the house. “Is it about Ragdoll? Or maybe about Ahmya?”
"Well..both I guess." His one good eye stared out at the courtyard, clouding over with hate "She broke into our house, yo. Took pictures of Ahmya sleeping."
A silence on the other end. Broken by a deep sigh. “Well… Shit. Ya guys need a place to crash until Knox puts the clown down? I got a spare room you can put your things in. Ain’t the clown gonna find you guys here” With the offer said, another pause and we hear a beercan fizz open on the other end. “How did Ahmya take it? From the interactions we’ve had she seems a bit sensitive to shit like that.” Another pause. “And… how you holding up? That must’ve creeped you guys out something fierce”
"She hasn't really acknowledged it...some stuff. Like, I don't know how to describe it. It doesn't really compute or if it does, she doesn't let it under her skin.." he sighs "There's...like a lot that goes on with her, yo. Scares the hell out of me. I mean, you see her shut down when Jacky went to town on my face?"
“Yeah. She does that often I take it? Shuts down I mean. She doesn’t lack guts tho. Kills me I wasn’t there to break it up.” He pauses and takes a swig of his beer. “So when are you good to go again? Knox will probably murder the clown at DMC, but in case he doesn’t, he’s gonna need you fighting fit. And so does Ahmya.” He lets out a small, morbid chuckle. “Considering how you managed to mixed up with Knox’ scuffle with the machines… you really know how to attract the ladies Bert. That has to be a skill” He tried to lighten the mood with a joke, hoping it’d land.
Bert does laugh, breaking his million mile death stare with the courtyard "If you only knew, yo.." for a minute he almost spills his guts. The human trafficking. The hit man. All of it.
But he couldn't put that mark on Tirri, risk him and Donnie and everyone else around him like that.
"We might come take you up on that offer. Far as me? Most of the shit Knox listed was bullshit. No breaks, just fractures. But...like shop talk aside…" a pause. A groan "Fuck this is some chick shit, yo.."
"Like...you ever you know...pop the question, yo?"
The line went silent for a while. “That serious eh” a response came just when Bert was gonna check if the line had gone dead. The voice of the grizzled vet was serious when he spoke. “I’ve never done it. God knows I should have a time or two but never did.” He paused, weighing what he’d say. “You asking me how to do it or if you should do it?”
"Yes." That, and a half chuckle "God imma need to go fight someone to feel like a dude after this talk, yo.."
That got a laugh out of Tirri. “Well. Like I said. I can’t really speak from experience, but judging from the way you two are, don’t make it a grand scene, like, don’t invite her to a bigass dinner and kneel in front of a crowd. That’s more of a Knox-thing to do, theatrics and shit. Just, be yourself. I mean, I’d prolly do it in the most casual manner, like poking my head into the room and be like “Yo, wanna get married?”, nothing more grandiose than that. Just keep it real. And as far as if you SHOULD…” He paused to think about it. Bert was young, so part of him wanted to say no to the kid, but at the same time, Don if someone knew what could be lost if he didn’t. He thought back to Donny’s mom Beatrice and how all could be different if he had stopped to use his brain 20 years ago.
“Well… there is no right answer to whether you should or not. Or no wrong answer. Atleast none that I can give. If it feel right to you, then that is all you need to know. If you see yourself sticking to Ahmya for the rest of your life, then the answer is obvious.” He broke the mood with a chuckle. “Cliche answer, I know but… it’s a cliche for a reason”
Silence for a beat, the sound of a lighter and water bubbles. Then a coughing fit "Shit...guess that's that then.." Bert finally catches his breath "You know, you might be old as hell but it ain't too late yo."
Another pause. Bubbles. A cough. "Whatshername next door. She digs your old grump ass. Standin there giggling at me and Ahmya on that gravitron. She didn't give a fuuuuuck about us. Just came to stand with you."
A pause
"You still got that thing?"
“The gravitron or the girl?” Tirri responded, lighting up a cigarette himself. “Knox finally came to get that damn thing off my lawn after I buggered him enough, so no to the former. And as far as the latter… She’s still around. Angie. And yeah, maybe. Though we’re both old enough to not worry about official shit like marriage. We’re comfortable as is but who knows. Never say never” he chuckled. “Donny would have a field day with that though. Speaking of which, if you do manage to get those words outta your mouth to her, I expect two invites, one for me+1 and one for Donny, sans a plus one. If you catch my drift.” He sighed. “Dammit Bert, you got an old man thinking of shit he shouldn’t worry his head with. I understand now why you didn’t call Knox. Ol’Magpie would be fixing up a 10 grand ring and 20grand dress for Ahmya before you got the words out. I’m glad you’re more down to earth”
"Yeah. Glad I got you for old guy advice without the…" a pause "Old spinster vibes. We can drink beer. Not" he begins mimicking Knox "Thirty year triple distilled single malts whiskey from kilt county in the remote part of scotsland" a laugh then, before adding.
"And Ahmya really likes you. Which is good, she's nice to everyone but like, you matter. So yeah on the invites.'
Tirri had a laugh at Bert’s Knox-imitation, as it was on point, more than he probably realized. “I actually don’t get that bit. See, I keep hearing I’m this asshole douche and yet someone like Ahmya seems to like me.” he paused, had been doing that a lot in the conversation. “But speaking of Knox. You shoulda seen him the night I dragged his drunk ass to my couch. The morning was something to behold. The mighty raven looking like he flew through a hurricane. He gets very humble when he is hungover as fuck”
“Anyways. Tell Ahmya that if she ever has a problem that needs an old jaded bastard to fix, she can call me anytime. Same goes for you too. She calls me Uncle Tirri, might as well live up to the name. And when you do manage to spit it out to her, gimme a holler. You two seem like a perfect fit. Just… keep her safe Bert, I’m not Knox but a roaring rampage of revenge is not out of my vocabulary if people I care about get fucked up” He finished with a serious tone.
"Yeah. I got it, Don dude. We'll probably drive down tonight. So..see ya in a bit old timer."
Click.
Bert sat back, considering it all a minute, then nodded. He stood, and turned only to freeze.
When the hell did she put on a sundress?
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Future (offcam)
I sat back on the couch, staring at the ceiling. The talk I had with Donny in the Sauna and the talk I had with Bert over the phone circulating in my head. It was a weird feeling. Somewhere in the process, from last years october onwards, I had somehow turned from a drunken loser down on his luck into… into a father-figure. Like, what the fuck happened? I chuckled to myself and lit up a cigarette, letting the smoke slowly billow around me.
It was odd to say the least. The change from that night in October as I arrived to Canada for CGW to today, the way I saw the world and especially the way people saw ME had changed fundamentally. From the friendships I had struck with people like Knox or Lash Donohue, to the prattle of younger talent who saw me as a good influence… for some damn reason. Bert. Ahmya, Donny… hell, I might aswell throw Lash into that same list because he is a damn kid.
But how? I mean, I didn’t think I had changed myself. I’ve always been me.
My thoughts were interrupted as Angie walked downstairs. She had been staying over at my place for the past few days as her house was undergoing some renovations. Her meeting with Bert and Ahmya as they came over to flee the fucking clown had been a heartwarming one, as Angie immediately went into mom-mode and started doting on the pair, to the annoyance of Bert. and me to be honest.
There was one thing I had started to wonder though, prompted mostly by Bert asking for advice earlier. I had truly started to wonder if I should settle down, and I mean for real. But… Yeah, popping the question or stuff like that really wasn’t really my style.
“What’s gotten you so thoughtful Don?” Angie asked as she sat down next to me, offering a warm smile. I eyed her and for a second I couldn’t believe how lucky I was. Even in bog-standard casual home clothes, she was looker. And me? Well, you know what I mean.
“Nothing really. Just pondering all the stuff that has happened recently. Like, Donny’s about to head off to start his career in SWWS. Bert actually calling ME for advice instead of Knox. And I just can’t get over the fact that *I* have become this voice of wisdom and someone people look up to. It’s almost a scary thought”
Angie rolled her eyes and reached over to pat me in the cheek. “Oh Don… It’s about damn time you yourself start seeing what everyone else has seen for a long time. Under all that bluster and grumpiness, you are a good man. You’ve just built that wall between you and the world to keep it at bay.” she paused, reaching for a cigarette herself. “I mean, I can’t say I blame you considering everything you’ve gone through but more and more people are seeing past it.”
I stared at the ceiling, taking drags from my cigarette. “It’s just… I don’t know. It’s easier to be an asshole who just keeps everyone at arm’s length. Mind my own business and don’t let anyone close. I mean fuck, letting someone in just invites getting hurt you know.”
“You let me in darling. And I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty happy with it.” She snarked back at me, a trait I loved. I could never be with someone who didn’t take me to the task verbally. Friend, family or loved one.
“Oh c’mon Ang, that’s beside the point. You’re not a peer or a colleague. Thats a whole different thing.” That was my excuse and I was sticking to it. Even if the truth was that for the longest time I had´let NOBODY that close. Regardless of who they were. But she saw right through my deflection.
“If you say so.” She shrugged. “So, the lovebirds. They sticking around for a while?” She was referring to Bert&Ahmya.
I glanced at her and shrugged. “I dunno. I gave them a carte blanche, since the nutcase stalking them works in the same company. I’m hoping Knox takes care of her at DMC, but if not… They might be around for a while.”
She nodded. “It’s kinda fun, to have a house full of life. Having more than just the two of us for dinner and whatnot.” She gave me a mysterious smile. “I wouldn’t mind if there was even more of it sooner than later.”
I furrowed my brow, wondering what she meant. Until it struck me. “Wait, you’re not saying what I think you’re saying?” I breathed out, surprised.
“Don’t worry, I’m not pregnant. But it’d be nice to have an actual family, wouldn’t it Don? I mean, Donny’s gonna be globetrotting soon, and you’re gonna retire sooner than later.” She spoke nonchalantly. And I was once again reminded how certain women knew just how to push the right buttons.
I grumbled something under my breath, which elicited a chuckle from Angie, and to my relief she changed the topic, seeing how I was uncomfortable. “Anyway. Speaking of Devil May Cry. You’ve been quiet about it. Worried about the nature of it?”
I sighed deeply. She hit the nail on the head. As usual. “Yeah. I fear I’ll come off as a hypocrite. I keep spouting in social media and in promos how I dislike Hardcore wrestling, and here I am challenging for essentially a hardcore title.”
The woman looked at me and shrugged. “Even if you CAN do something, it doesn't mean you MUST do something. You’re a gentle soul Don. You fight for a living, yes, but you’ve said it yourself so many times. “Never do more damage than needed.'' Nobody says you HAVE to bust out the weed whackers and pizza cutters. You can just out wrestle him. Despite all your hardships and trials… you’ve always stayed professional. That is your “power” darling. Lean into that.”
Her perceptiveness struck me right where I never expected to be struck. “Thats… one way of looking at it” I mumbled and threw my arm around her, letting her lean against me. “It’s just a stepping stone to where I need to be…”
She chuckled into my side, squeezing my hand softly. “Besides. Shepard isn’t one of those violent animals you so often rant about. Atleast not from what I’ve seen. Who knows. You just might have a clean, old fashioned brawl in your hands. Just be who you are and the end result will reflect it.”
I had no response to that. I hoped she was right.
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And Here’s Why (oncam)
The view opens to a familiar one, “Old School Cool” Don Tirri sitting on a couch in his living room. He is dressed in his usual casual fare, his combat-boot clad feet kicked up on the coffee table between the couch and the camera.
“So the long wait has finally come to a head. Devil May Cry is just around the corner and with it, we will finally have a situation in LevelUp Wrestling where all champions stand crowned. A stacked card and a wild ride ahead of both the fans and the talent. But one match sticks out as one to remember. One match sticks out like a sore thumb. An encounter between two men who see this business differently from others. Two men who respect each other and hold no grudges.”
The Finn seems outwardly relaxed, but his eyes betray steely determination not seen since Combat Evolved.
“In a card filled with matches stemming from bad blood, matches with intense rivalries and clusterfucks… We have two men looking to beat the living shit out of each other not because they hate each other, not because they take some perverse enjoyment about hurting each other but because they are professionals, fighting for a prize and a ticket to greatness.
Myself and Duncan Shepard. The road to Devil May Cry has been unique for us. While Maggie and EAB have been taking sly potshots at each other, which came to a head last EXP, we have remained cordial. While Raab shocked everyone by winning a shot at Sidroy, Shepard granted my challenge. While the Courage title is decided in an insane scramble, We are fighting one on one… and while Ragdoll and Knox traded assaults, I gave Shepard a respectful nod after his last bout. We are unique, our matchup is unique and the result? It will be unique.”
Tirri reaches for a cigarette, another routine gesture he makes every time he is on camera, lighting it up and taking deep drags of it, letting the smoke billow slowly from his mouth as he gathers his thought.
“Now, ever since the announcement of the Skeleton Key match for Dead by Daylight, all the way back in EXP7 I spoke how I am not a fan of Hardcore wrestling. And yet, here I am. Challenging for the Power title. Maybe it’s high time I finally explained why I dislike this type of wrestling… and why I am regardless putting myself into it.”
He sighs and fidgets, taking a more comfortable position as he starts talking.
“See, the thing is… I believe earnestly that hardcore wrestling has done a lot to ruin this sport. From it’s beginnings onwards it has been a sporting contest between two athletes capable of performing physical feats an average joe can’t. Sure, it has evolved from its roots as a mostly grappling sport to include fistfighting and high flying. But even with these evolutions, it is still deep down on its base about two or more professionals using their body as currency to inflict enough damage on the other person to get them down for a three count. Hardcore Wrestling blurs that distinction. Because while perfecting the needed arsenal of holds and throws required to make it as a grappler, honing your striking to a point you can make it as a brawler or having the agility and courage to jump and bounce around to make it as a high flyer… Anyone can swing a chair. Anyone can batter their foe with light tubes or cut them with barb wire. It takes no talent. No skill. Nothing more than a high tolerance for pain and a complete lack of a self-preservation instinct. It devoles an athletic contest to a bloodbath.”
A hint of disgust creeps into his voice as he delves deeper into his opinions on the matter. A small but powerful look into the mind of Tirri.
“I was brought into the business with the mindset “Do no more damage than necessary”. A creed I have followed to this day. The men and women that have been attracted into the sport by the proliferation of hardcore and even worse, deathmatch wrestling both into the ring and into the stands have no heed for such a creed. I’ve seen it in many a promotion over the years. Men like Supreme Machine and women like Ragdoll. Violent animals with no other desire but to hurt and be hurt. They have devolved this business with their existence. Leaving men like me, professionals who live the sport of wrestling forced to either adapt or turn a blind eye. A development that I do not welcome nor support. But ultimately, it is out of my hands.”
Another deep sigh escapes the Finns lips. He puffs the last smokes from his cigarette and stumps it on an ashtray nearby, afterwards leaning back into a relaxed pose, staring at the ceiling as he continues.
“So with all that said, it begs the question: Why am I fighting for a title that represents all that I abhor? Why am I knowingly and willingly putting myself in a match that flies against my principles? Simple. It is my ticket to where I want to be. Where I NEED to be.”
He suddenly jerks himself to his feet, intensity flashing to his expression and demeanour in an instant as he spoke the last words. His eyes burning and his voice made of steel.
“At Combat Evolved, I had the opportunity of a lifetime. I was main eventing a major PPV, facing the top champion of the promotion. I was primed and ready to tick off the one last thing absent in my resume. I left everything I had in that ring to claim the LevelUp Final Boss championship. But Maggie Lockheart was better. I got close. SO CLOSE. But yet so far away.”
For a fleeting moment we see his features soften and his voice gets oddly wistful.
“A lesser man would be disheartened by all these professional “failures” as some call them. I’ve been in the losing end of too many titlematches to even bother to count. But I haven’t lost my drive. I might not have much gold in my waist, but the last year or so has been the best time of my life Shepard. I’ve become someone people look up to outside the ring. A Father. A Mentor. And not just for my own Kid. I’ve managed to lay down my roots in a way I’ve never have before, finding a home after decades of vagrancy. I’ve even found a woman who is way out of my league and still sees me as a partner for life. So even if all those losses that I have suffered have left me, pardon the pun, feeling powerless at times… I draw strength from what I have succeeded in outside the ring. The victories small and big from my personal life that is in better shape than it has ever been. And I mean literally ever, from the day I was born into this world from an alcoholic narcissistic mother. So that is why I look back at Combat Evolved not with regret or with sadness. I look back at Combat Evolved as a measuring stick.”
He pauses for a moment before continuing.
“ Ever since that night, I’ve known only that I must get back there. To have another shot. Another opportunity to prove that I belong at the top. I haven’t laid idle these months that separate Combat Evolved from Devil May Cry. I have become better than I was. Like a fine wine, I get better and better month after month. I’ve honed my physique. I’ve broadened my horizons. I’ve tightened my gameplans. As I am now, I could very well beat Maggie. And that is why I am here. That is why I am entering Devil May Cry to fight for the Power title. Because the Power title is my ticket to Tri Force Heroes. And TFH is my ticket for a main event match at Final Fantasy.
And this is where you come in Duncan. I have immense respect for you, a fact that I have mentioned time and time again. I see you as a truly deserving champion amongst the ranks or Level up Wrestling. But at the same time, I see you as equally unfitting for the Power division as I am myself. Because you aren’t a violent animal. You are a professional wrestler. That is why I do not dread the upcoming match at Devil May Cry as much as I would if my opponent was someone like Ragdoll or Supreme Machine. Because I know that even if the Power division encourages violence and bloodshed, you are not a man to resort to extremes unless it is the last resort. Do not take my lack of dread as a slight towards your talent Duncan, because it was not. It is merely an acknowledgement of your character. I do not dread matches. I anticipate them, I look forward to them. The tougher the challenge, the more excited I am. I only dread facing animals who lust for blood. And you are not one of them.”
He keeps a small pause, underlining the compliment.
“So at Devil May Cry Duncan, I am going to take you to the absolute limit. I am going to force you to pull out all the stops, use every trick you have in your book and extract the very last bit of prowess that resides in your body. Because anything less will see you flat on your back, staring at the lights. We are going to lock up and see which one of us is the better professional wrestler. We are going to see which one of us truly is the better man. Just like it should be. Because That… is the very essence of this sport.”
A hint of pride in his voice as he says that.
“Now. I promised myself that I wouldn’t start getting into some tired “old gunslinger”-pathos here, because it seems silly when I am quite literally better than I’ve ever been… but there is this one metaphor that I’ve stumbled on that in my opinion defines who and what I am at this very moment very fittingly. “Do you know what happens to a star just before it dies? It goes supernova. Shining brighter than ever before and destroying everything in its path. One last hurrah before the eternal dark.”. So yeah. While I am by no means a Jack Michaels, and I have no interest to make my experience and my age the cornerstone of my presentation… I cannot deny facts. Just like a star that goes Supernova, I am not better than I’ve ever been. And it’s time to shine like I’ve never shone before. So Duncan, even if I respect you as a man and as a competitor, at Devil May Cry I’ll be your star boy. Your catalyst. At Devil May Cry you will have nothing but bad choices to end your illustrious journey. At Devil May Cry Shepard, I will be your Harbinger. I will be your Sovereign. I will be your Reaper. And there won’t be a Cerberus to revitalize you after its all said and done. After Devil May Cry Duncan? You won’t be Shepard anymore. You’ll be just a Ryder.”
He turns around as if to leave the frame, but stops and pivots his head towards the camera, winking as he mouths the last line with a cheeky grin.
“The Pathfinder-variety”
And with that, we fade to black.
It had been a long day, training with Donny both in the gym and in the ring. But I got a bunch of good news when a contractor I had hired stopped me on the way in and told me the project was finished. This piqued Donny’s interest because I had been extremely tight-lipped about the construction happening on the side of the house.
“So, are you NOW finally gonna tell me what you cooked up?” the kid piped up, both annoyed and intrigued. I took a measure of amusement from his reaction. And I couldn’t wait for his reaction when he finally found out.
“Just head out for a few hours, work up a sweat, do whatever you want. Come back at say, 8pm and meet me in the new room. Capisce? I added with a grin. Donny rolled his eyes, but nodded.
Ever since that trip to russia I had struggled with my national identity. Sure, I was Finnish by birth, but after having spent such a long time here in the US, my connection to Finland had faded. So I had decided to do something about it, a little something to remind me of where I came from, little something that would teach Donny about his roots as well.
So the hours passed as I prepared everything, until 8pm rolled around and Donny returned. I greeted him at the door of the new room, seeing the impatience in his eyes. “So, can we FiNALLY get this done pops?”
I nodded and swung the door open. “Welcome to a little piece of Finland” and stepped in.
Donny followed, looking curious. He scanned the room and frowned. “It’s a bathroom. We already have one pops.”
I chuckled. “Not just a bathroom. This my boy, is an honest-to-god Finnish SAUNA!” I turned around and grabbed a handle of the door I had been standing infront of and swung it open. We were both hit with a wave of heat from the room and I immediately fell into a nostalgic wave.
“Sauna?” Donny questioned, peering in. “We got those things in almost every damn gym and spa. Whats so special about this?”
“Those? Those aren’t Saunas. Those are heatrooms at best. This has been built to a whole different standard, from the paneling to the seats to the wood-burning stove and the rocks on it. So yeah. Get undressed, grab a drink from that cooler and lets enjoy it”
And we did so. With a beer a piece in hand, we sat down on the top shelf and leant back. The heat was nice and high, 90celsius or about 190 fahrenheit. I could see Donny was struggling as the public “saunas” they had used a lot, LOT lower temperatures. I chuckled and threw some water on the stove, the heat causing the kid to wince. “C’mon Donny, sit straight up and enjoy the heat. The one thing I’ve missed from back home has been a proper Sauna, and now I got it.”
Donny stared at me from under his brows. “Can you actually enjoy this kind of heat? Fucking hell…”
“You’ll get used to it. You got it in your blood. See, back home this is the ultimate luxury, a sauna of your own. Ain’t nothing more relaxing after a hard day's work than to come here and unwind. Sweat the shit out and just let the heat cleanse you.” I smirked and threw more water on the stones.
We sat in silence for a while, Donny refusing to crouch down, a fact that made me smile. Ultimately I sighed. This all had a point and it was time I got to it. “Hey kid… no, Donny. Never forget where you come from.”
The kid looked at me, raising an eyebrow. “Whatcha mean pops?”
I took a sip of my beer and gathered my thoughts. “You’ve signed your first pro-contract. Soon you’ll be zipping around the country and the world working. Sooner than later that little town in Brighton, England is gonna be a faint memory. You’ll be announced from there, but as years pass and you think back to it, it’s just a name on the map. Even more so if you make it big. When things start going your way, you can easily lose sight of who you were and where you come from.” I took a small break, letting my words sink in to Donny. “As long as you remember your beginnings… you can stay humble. And being humble is the only way to make it in this biz in the long run. Had I been humble and smart 20 years ago, who knows. Maybe you had a dad growing up” I left off with a bitter tone. I was gonna carry that pain forever. To a point I sometimes wished Donny never entered my life. But it is what it is.
The kid pondered my words, giving me an odd look. “What prompted this? I know I signed my first contract, but still…” he sipped his beer. “C’mon pops, talk to me.”
I was slightly irritated by his ability to see through me. I began staring at the ceiling, willing myself to talk. “You’re too much like me Donny. You might have Beau’s endless patience on the surface, but I’ve seen that temper flare. You’re deep down just a hothead like I am. I know the shit I’ve gotten mixed into over the years, and I’ve seen how a fellow hothead like me, Knox, has gotten himself into fights no sane man wants to take. Hell, Bert ain’t much different either. What I’m trying to say is Donny… don’t be me. Don’t burn bridges. And don’t be a Knox. Don’t get into fights where wins are pyrrhic at best. I don’t wanna wake up one morning and find you in a hospital with a broken baseball bat struck through your shoulder… or with half of your facial bones shattered. This business is rough even at the best of times... No need to add to it further.”
Before Donny could respond, I raised my hand to signal that I wasn’t finished, just needed a second to gather my thoughts. “What I’m ultimately trying to say kid, is that you coming to my life was probably the luckiest break I’ve ever gotten. With the possible exception of Angie, but I don’t wanna rank you two. And this…” I gestured around me to the room. “Is my way of trying to tell you that no matter who you become, where you got and what you accomplish… Finland will always be part of your legacy. And as selfish as it might sound, small things like that are my way of trying to remind you that I am in your life. I don’t want either of us go back to living like the other didn’t exist. We’ve both spent most of our lives without a father, even if mine was the latter half and by choice. I owe you a lot Donny… and I don’t want you to forget me.” There it was. The nagging worry that had been eating away at me. The worry that once he got his taste of the biz, he’d fly out of the nest and forget about me. A selfish worry yes, but I couldn’t help it.
We both sat in silence. I took sideways glances at Donny, wondering what he was thinking. His expression betrayed nothing, so when he finally spoke I had no idea what to expect. “Don’t worry Pops. Taking care of mum taught me one thing… Never take anything for granted. She was there one day, and the next she was bedridden and the one after… she was gone. So no matter how successful I get… Don’t worry. I won’t forget who I am. And as far as being a hothead…” he glanced at me and gave a boyish smirk. “I’ll never take a fight I can’t win.”
I rolled my eyes. “Not exactly what I was looking for, but I guess that’s the best I can get from you.” I grumbled like the old fart I am, causing Donny to give a small laugh.
We then sat in silence as I mulled over his words. Cheeky finish aside, what he said reminded me that for his young age, he has gone through a lot. I had a rotten relationship with my parents, so I could never truly imagine the pain he went through watching his mother fade away to cancer. Like me, he had been forged in a fire harsher than anyone should be. But there was a key difference. My trials were of my own doing. His? Bad luck. I reached over and patted him in the back. “I don’t know why I’m worried kid. You’ll do just fine”
He raised his beer at me and nodded, reaching over to throw some more water on the stones.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Calling Uncle Tirri (offcam)
He turned out the roach of the joint in his ashtray and let out a tired sigh. The skies over Indy seemed off. Everything did since he found out the fucking clown had been in his home. A cursory glance over his shoulder spied Nao happily doting away in the kitchen. Perfectly distracted.
He pulled out his cracked Android Samsung something or other and opened his contacts. He scrolled to D, looked confused, then remembered and scrolled further. He had let her rearrange their contacts.
At least this one wasn't in Japanese. He had called Queeny to order a pizza. It got weird.
Uncle Tirri
Calling . . . .
“What’s up Bert” came the coarse voice from the other end as Tirri picked up. The finn had been working out on the ring in his backyard, and a call was a good excuse to take a break. “Was a bit surprised when you said you’d call”
"Yeah...yeah but like, not a huge range of options. Not really in the mood to hear any of Knox's 'wisdom'" he trailed off, shifting in his seat. The thoughts crowded in his chest, after realizing he'd gone quiet he spat out some small talk.
"Feeling confident in your shot at Duncan? I think you've got it personally. No Tact around to bitch up the gears."
A small chuckle from the other end. “Shepard ain’t no joke. But I got a gameplan. And Donny’s been running me ragged preparing me for the match. I do kinda find it funny to see Tact in the Platformer earlier in the night. But I digress. What can I do for ya? If it’s something you don’t want Knox’ take on, it’s gotta be good.” A small pause and we hear a door close, as Tirri walks into the house. “Is it about Ragdoll? Or maybe about Ahmya?”
"Well..both I guess." His one good eye stared out at the courtyard, clouding over with hate "She broke into our house, yo. Took pictures of Ahmya sleeping."
A silence on the other end. Broken by a deep sigh. “Well… Shit. Ya guys need a place to crash until Knox puts the clown down? I got a spare room you can put your things in. Ain’t the clown gonna find you guys here” With the offer said, another pause and we hear a beercan fizz open on the other end. “How did Ahmya take it? From the interactions we’ve had she seems a bit sensitive to shit like that.” Another pause. “And… how you holding up? That must’ve creeped you guys out something fierce”
"She hasn't really acknowledged it...some stuff. Like, I don't know how to describe it. It doesn't really compute or if it does, she doesn't let it under her skin.." he sighs "There's...like a lot that goes on with her, yo. Scares the hell out of me. I mean, you see her shut down when Jacky went to town on my face?"
“Yeah. She does that often I take it? Shuts down I mean. She doesn’t lack guts tho. Kills me I wasn’t there to break it up.” He pauses and takes a swig of his beer. “So when are you good to go again? Knox will probably murder the clown at DMC, but in case he doesn’t, he’s gonna need you fighting fit. And so does Ahmya.” He lets out a small, morbid chuckle. “Considering how you managed to mixed up with Knox’ scuffle with the machines… you really know how to attract the ladies Bert. That has to be a skill” He tried to lighten the mood with a joke, hoping it’d land.
Bert does laugh, breaking his million mile death stare with the courtyard "If you only knew, yo.." for a minute he almost spills his guts. The human trafficking. The hit man. All of it.
But he couldn't put that mark on Tirri, risk him and Donnie and everyone else around him like that.
"We might come take you up on that offer. Far as me? Most of the shit Knox listed was bullshit. No breaks, just fractures. But...like shop talk aside…" a pause. A groan "Fuck this is some chick shit, yo.."
"Like...you ever you know...pop the question, yo?"
The line went silent for a while. “That serious eh” a response came just when Bert was gonna check if the line had gone dead. The voice of the grizzled vet was serious when he spoke. “I’ve never done it. God knows I should have a time or two but never did.” He paused, weighing what he’d say. “You asking me how to do it or if you should do it?”
"Yes." That, and a half chuckle "God imma need to go fight someone to feel like a dude after this talk, yo.."
That got a laugh out of Tirri. “Well. Like I said. I can’t really speak from experience, but judging from the way you two are, don’t make it a grand scene, like, don’t invite her to a bigass dinner and kneel in front of a crowd. That’s more of a Knox-thing to do, theatrics and shit. Just, be yourself. I mean, I’d prolly do it in the most casual manner, like poking my head into the room and be like “Yo, wanna get married?”, nothing more grandiose than that. Just keep it real. And as far as if you SHOULD…” He paused to think about it. Bert was young, so part of him wanted to say no to the kid, but at the same time, Don if someone knew what could be lost if he didn’t. He thought back to Donny’s mom Beatrice and how all could be different if he had stopped to use his brain 20 years ago.
“Well… there is no right answer to whether you should or not. Or no wrong answer. Atleast none that I can give. If it feel right to you, then that is all you need to know. If you see yourself sticking to Ahmya for the rest of your life, then the answer is obvious.” He broke the mood with a chuckle. “Cliche answer, I know but… it’s a cliche for a reason”
Silence for a beat, the sound of a lighter and water bubbles. Then a coughing fit "Shit...guess that's that then.." Bert finally catches his breath "You know, you might be old as hell but it ain't too late yo."
Another pause. Bubbles. A cough. "Whatshername next door. She digs your old grump ass. Standin there giggling at me and Ahmya on that gravitron. She didn't give a fuuuuuck about us. Just came to stand with you."
A pause
"You still got that thing?"
“The gravitron or the girl?” Tirri responded, lighting up a cigarette himself. “Knox finally came to get that damn thing off my lawn after I buggered him enough, so no to the former. And as far as the latter… She’s still around. Angie. And yeah, maybe. Though we’re both old enough to not worry about official shit like marriage. We’re comfortable as is but who knows. Never say never” he chuckled. “Donny would have a field day with that though. Speaking of which, if you do manage to get those words outta your mouth to her, I expect two invites, one for me+1 and one for Donny, sans a plus one. If you catch my drift.” He sighed. “Dammit Bert, you got an old man thinking of shit he shouldn’t worry his head with. I understand now why you didn’t call Knox. Ol’Magpie would be fixing up a 10 grand ring and 20grand dress for Ahmya before you got the words out. I’m glad you’re more down to earth”
"Yeah. Glad I got you for old guy advice without the…" a pause "Old spinster vibes. We can drink beer. Not" he begins mimicking Knox "Thirty year triple distilled single malts whiskey from kilt county in the remote part of scotsland" a laugh then, before adding.
"And Ahmya really likes you. Which is good, she's nice to everyone but like, you matter. So yeah on the invites.'
Tirri had a laugh at Bert’s Knox-imitation, as it was on point, more than he probably realized. “I actually don’t get that bit. See, I keep hearing I’m this asshole douche and yet someone like Ahmya seems to like me.” he paused, had been doing that a lot in the conversation. “But speaking of Knox. You shoulda seen him the night I dragged his drunk ass to my couch. The morning was something to behold. The mighty raven looking like he flew through a hurricane. He gets very humble when he is hungover as fuck”
“Anyways. Tell Ahmya that if she ever has a problem that needs an old jaded bastard to fix, she can call me anytime. Same goes for you too. She calls me Uncle Tirri, might as well live up to the name. And when you do manage to spit it out to her, gimme a holler. You two seem like a perfect fit. Just… keep her safe Bert, I’m not Knox but a roaring rampage of revenge is not out of my vocabulary if people I care about get fucked up” He finished with a serious tone.
"Yeah. I got it, Don dude. We'll probably drive down tonight. So..see ya in a bit old timer."
Click.
Bert sat back, considering it all a minute, then nodded. He stood, and turned only to freeze.
When the hell did she put on a sundress?
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Future (offcam)
I sat back on the couch, staring at the ceiling. The talk I had with Donny in the Sauna and the talk I had with Bert over the phone circulating in my head. It was a weird feeling. Somewhere in the process, from last years october onwards, I had somehow turned from a drunken loser down on his luck into… into a father-figure. Like, what the fuck happened? I chuckled to myself and lit up a cigarette, letting the smoke slowly billow around me.
It was odd to say the least. The change from that night in October as I arrived to Canada for CGW to today, the way I saw the world and especially the way people saw ME had changed fundamentally. From the friendships I had struck with people like Knox or Lash Donohue, to the prattle of younger talent who saw me as a good influence… for some damn reason. Bert. Ahmya, Donny… hell, I might aswell throw Lash into that same list because he is a damn kid.
But how? I mean, I didn’t think I had changed myself. I’ve always been me.
My thoughts were interrupted as Angie walked downstairs. She had been staying over at my place for the past few days as her house was undergoing some renovations. Her meeting with Bert and Ahmya as they came over to flee the fucking clown had been a heartwarming one, as Angie immediately went into mom-mode and started doting on the pair, to the annoyance of Bert. and me to be honest.
There was one thing I had started to wonder though, prompted mostly by Bert asking for advice earlier. I had truly started to wonder if I should settle down, and I mean for real. But… Yeah, popping the question or stuff like that really wasn’t really my style.
“What’s gotten you so thoughtful Don?” Angie asked as she sat down next to me, offering a warm smile. I eyed her and for a second I couldn’t believe how lucky I was. Even in bog-standard casual home clothes, she was looker. And me? Well, you know what I mean.
“Nothing really. Just pondering all the stuff that has happened recently. Like, Donny’s about to head off to start his career in SWWS. Bert actually calling ME for advice instead of Knox. And I just can’t get over the fact that *I* have become this voice of wisdom and someone people look up to. It’s almost a scary thought”
Angie rolled her eyes and reached over to pat me in the cheek. “Oh Don… It’s about damn time you yourself start seeing what everyone else has seen for a long time. Under all that bluster and grumpiness, you are a good man. You’ve just built that wall between you and the world to keep it at bay.” she paused, reaching for a cigarette herself. “I mean, I can’t say I blame you considering everything you’ve gone through but more and more people are seeing past it.”
I stared at the ceiling, taking drags from my cigarette. “It’s just… I don’t know. It’s easier to be an asshole who just keeps everyone at arm’s length. Mind my own business and don’t let anyone close. I mean fuck, letting someone in just invites getting hurt you know.”
“You let me in darling. And I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty happy with it.” She snarked back at me, a trait I loved. I could never be with someone who didn’t take me to the task verbally. Friend, family or loved one.
“Oh c’mon Ang, that’s beside the point. You’re not a peer or a colleague. Thats a whole different thing.” That was my excuse and I was sticking to it. Even if the truth was that for the longest time I had´let NOBODY that close. Regardless of who they were. But she saw right through my deflection.
“If you say so.” She shrugged. “So, the lovebirds. They sticking around for a while?” She was referring to Bert&Ahmya.
I glanced at her and shrugged. “I dunno. I gave them a carte blanche, since the nutcase stalking them works in the same company. I’m hoping Knox takes care of her at DMC, but if not… They might be around for a while.”
She nodded. “It’s kinda fun, to have a house full of life. Having more than just the two of us for dinner and whatnot.” She gave me a mysterious smile. “I wouldn’t mind if there was even more of it sooner than later.”
I furrowed my brow, wondering what she meant. Until it struck me. “Wait, you’re not saying what I think you’re saying?” I breathed out, surprised.
“Don’t worry, I’m not pregnant. But it’d be nice to have an actual family, wouldn’t it Don? I mean, Donny’s gonna be globetrotting soon, and you’re gonna retire sooner than later.” She spoke nonchalantly. And I was once again reminded how certain women knew just how to push the right buttons.
I grumbled something under my breath, which elicited a chuckle from Angie, and to my relief she changed the topic, seeing how I was uncomfortable. “Anyway. Speaking of Devil May Cry. You’ve been quiet about it. Worried about the nature of it?”
I sighed deeply. She hit the nail on the head. As usual. “Yeah. I fear I’ll come off as a hypocrite. I keep spouting in social media and in promos how I dislike Hardcore wrestling, and here I am challenging for essentially a hardcore title.”
The woman looked at me and shrugged. “Even if you CAN do something, it doesn't mean you MUST do something. You’re a gentle soul Don. You fight for a living, yes, but you’ve said it yourself so many times. “Never do more damage than needed.'' Nobody says you HAVE to bust out the weed whackers and pizza cutters. You can just out wrestle him. Despite all your hardships and trials… you’ve always stayed professional. That is your “power” darling. Lean into that.”
Her perceptiveness struck me right where I never expected to be struck. “Thats… one way of looking at it” I mumbled and threw my arm around her, letting her lean against me. “It’s just a stepping stone to where I need to be…”
She chuckled into my side, squeezing my hand softly. “Besides. Shepard isn’t one of those violent animals you so often rant about. Atleast not from what I’ve seen. Who knows. You just might have a clean, old fashioned brawl in your hands. Just be who you are and the end result will reflect it.”
I had no response to that. I hoped she was right.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
And Here’s Why (oncam)
The view opens to a familiar one, “Old School Cool” Don Tirri sitting on a couch in his living room. He is dressed in his usual casual fare, his combat-boot clad feet kicked up on the coffee table between the couch and the camera.
“So the long wait has finally come to a head. Devil May Cry is just around the corner and with it, we will finally have a situation in LevelUp Wrestling where all champions stand crowned. A stacked card and a wild ride ahead of both the fans and the talent. But one match sticks out as one to remember. One match sticks out like a sore thumb. An encounter between two men who see this business differently from others. Two men who respect each other and hold no grudges.”
The Finn seems outwardly relaxed, but his eyes betray steely determination not seen since Combat Evolved.
“In a card filled with matches stemming from bad blood, matches with intense rivalries and clusterfucks… We have two men looking to beat the living shit out of each other not because they hate each other, not because they take some perverse enjoyment about hurting each other but because they are professionals, fighting for a prize and a ticket to greatness.
Myself and Duncan Shepard. The road to Devil May Cry has been unique for us. While Maggie and EAB have been taking sly potshots at each other, which came to a head last EXP, we have remained cordial. While Raab shocked everyone by winning a shot at Sidroy, Shepard granted my challenge. While the Courage title is decided in an insane scramble, We are fighting one on one… and while Ragdoll and Knox traded assaults, I gave Shepard a respectful nod after his last bout. We are unique, our matchup is unique and the result? It will be unique.”
Tirri reaches for a cigarette, another routine gesture he makes every time he is on camera, lighting it up and taking deep drags of it, letting the smoke billow slowly from his mouth as he gathers his thought.
“Now, ever since the announcement of the Skeleton Key match for Dead by Daylight, all the way back in EXP7 I spoke how I am not a fan of Hardcore wrestling. And yet, here I am. Challenging for the Power title. Maybe it’s high time I finally explained why I dislike this type of wrestling… and why I am regardless putting myself into it.”
He sighs and fidgets, taking a more comfortable position as he starts talking.
“See, the thing is… I believe earnestly that hardcore wrestling has done a lot to ruin this sport. From it’s beginnings onwards it has been a sporting contest between two athletes capable of performing physical feats an average joe can’t. Sure, it has evolved from its roots as a mostly grappling sport to include fistfighting and high flying. But even with these evolutions, it is still deep down on its base about two or more professionals using their body as currency to inflict enough damage on the other person to get them down for a three count. Hardcore Wrestling blurs that distinction. Because while perfecting the needed arsenal of holds and throws required to make it as a grappler, honing your striking to a point you can make it as a brawler or having the agility and courage to jump and bounce around to make it as a high flyer… Anyone can swing a chair. Anyone can batter their foe with light tubes or cut them with barb wire. It takes no talent. No skill. Nothing more than a high tolerance for pain and a complete lack of a self-preservation instinct. It devoles an athletic contest to a bloodbath.”
A hint of disgust creeps into his voice as he delves deeper into his opinions on the matter. A small but powerful look into the mind of Tirri.
“I was brought into the business with the mindset “Do no more damage than necessary”. A creed I have followed to this day. The men and women that have been attracted into the sport by the proliferation of hardcore and even worse, deathmatch wrestling both into the ring and into the stands have no heed for such a creed. I’ve seen it in many a promotion over the years. Men like Supreme Machine and women like Ragdoll. Violent animals with no other desire but to hurt and be hurt. They have devolved this business with their existence. Leaving men like me, professionals who live the sport of wrestling forced to either adapt or turn a blind eye. A development that I do not welcome nor support. But ultimately, it is out of my hands.”
Another deep sigh escapes the Finns lips. He puffs the last smokes from his cigarette and stumps it on an ashtray nearby, afterwards leaning back into a relaxed pose, staring at the ceiling as he continues.
“So with all that said, it begs the question: Why am I fighting for a title that represents all that I abhor? Why am I knowingly and willingly putting myself in a match that flies against my principles? Simple. It is my ticket to where I want to be. Where I NEED to be.”
He suddenly jerks himself to his feet, intensity flashing to his expression and demeanour in an instant as he spoke the last words. His eyes burning and his voice made of steel.
“At Combat Evolved, I had the opportunity of a lifetime. I was main eventing a major PPV, facing the top champion of the promotion. I was primed and ready to tick off the one last thing absent in my resume. I left everything I had in that ring to claim the LevelUp Final Boss championship. But Maggie Lockheart was better. I got close. SO CLOSE. But yet so far away.”
For a fleeting moment we see his features soften and his voice gets oddly wistful.
“A lesser man would be disheartened by all these professional “failures” as some call them. I’ve been in the losing end of too many titlematches to even bother to count. But I haven’t lost my drive. I might not have much gold in my waist, but the last year or so has been the best time of my life Shepard. I’ve become someone people look up to outside the ring. A Father. A Mentor. And not just for my own Kid. I’ve managed to lay down my roots in a way I’ve never have before, finding a home after decades of vagrancy. I’ve even found a woman who is way out of my league and still sees me as a partner for life. So even if all those losses that I have suffered have left me, pardon the pun, feeling powerless at times… I draw strength from what I have succeeded in outside the ring. The victories small and big from my personal life that is in better shape than it has ever been. And I mean literally ever, from the day I was born into this world from an alcoholic narcissistic mother. So that is why I look back at Combat Evolved not with regret or with sadness. I look back at Combat Evolved as a measuring stick.”
He pauses for a moment before continuing.
“ Ever since that night, I’ve known only that I must get back there. To have another shot. Another opportunity to prove that I belong at the top. I haven’t laid idle these months that separate Combat Evolved from Devil May Cry. I have become better than I was. Like a fine wine, I get better and better month after month. I’ve honed my physique. I’ve broadened my horizons. I’ve tightened my gameplans. As I am now, I could very well beat Maggie. And that is why I am here. That is why I am entering Devil May Cry to fight for the Power title. Because the Power title is my ticket to Tri Force Heroes. And TFH is my ticket for a main event match at Final Fantasy.
And this is where you come in Duncan. I have immense respect for you, a fact that I have mentioned time and time again. I see you as a truly deserving champion amongst the ranks or Level up Wrestling. But at the same time, I see you as equally unfitting for the Power division as I am myself. Because you aren’t a violent animal. You are a professional wrestler. That is why I do not dread the upcoming match at Devil May Cry as much as I would if my opponent was someone like Ragdoll or Supreme Machine. Because I know that even if the Power division encourages violence and bloodshed, you are not a man to resort to extremes unless it is the last resort. Do not take my lack of dread as a slight towards your talent Duncan, because it was not. It is merely an acknowledgement of your character. I do not dread matches. I anticipate them, I look forward to them. The tougher the challenge, the more excited I am. I only dread facing animals who lust for blood. And you are not one of them.”
He keeps a small pause, underlining the compliment.
“So at Devil May Cry Duncan, I am going to take you to the absolute limit. I am going to force you to pull out all the stops, use every trick you have in your book and extract the very last bit of prowess that resides in your body. Because anything less will see you flat on your back, staring at the lights. We are going to lock up and see which one of us is the better professional wrestler. We are going to see which one of us truly is the better man. Just like it should be. Because That… is the very essence of this sport.”
A hint of pride in his voice as he says that.
“Now. I promised myself that I wouldn’t start getting into some tired “old gunslinger”-pathos here, because it seems silly when I am quite literally better than I’ve ever been… but there is this one metaphor that I’ve stumbled on that in my opinion defines who and what I am at this very moment very fittingly. “Do you know what happens to a star just before it dies? It goes supernova. Shining brighter than ever before and destroying everything in its path. One last hurrah before the eternal dark.”. So yeah. While I am by no means a Jack Michaels, and I have no interest to make my experience and my age the cornerstone of my presentation… I cannot deny facts. Just like a star that goes Supernova, I am not better than I’ve ever been. And it’s time to shine like I’ve never shone before. So Duncan, even if I respect you as a man and as a competitor, at Devil May Cry I’ll be your star boy. Your catalyst. At Devil May Cry you will have nothing but bad choices to end your illustrious journey. At Devil May Cry Shepard, I will be your Harbinger. I will be your Sovereign. I will be your Reaper. And there won’t be a Cerberus to revitalize you after its all said and done. After Devil May Cry Duncan? You won’t be Shepard anymore. You’ll be just a Ryder.”
He turns around as if to leave the frame, but stops and pivots his head towards the camera, winking as he mouths the last line with a cheeky grin.
“The Pathfinder-variety”
And with that, we fade to black.
