Post by Lord Blake on Sept 1, 2016 22:06:28 GMT
Lord Blake lies face down on the table. He's been on the verge of consciousness for almost an hour and just when the other person in the room thinks he might pass out, his motor mouth revs up again. One arm hangs limply off the side of the table and a blanket barely covers his naked body just below the waist. He grunts and shifts his body before more oil gets drizzled over his back. The massage therapist works it into his skins before beginning another round of back rubbing.
The RSW Supreme Championship is perfectly centered on the room’s counter, surrounded by lit candles while soft relaxation music plays over hidden speakers. Lord’s face is framed by a hole at the head of the table making it easy for him to talk, much to the chagrin of the woman massaging him.
“...and like, yeah, I lost a ton of blood that night. Every doctor in the city said I should be in bed resting and not doing anything strenuous for like, a month. That's how much blood I lost. I've gone back and watched it a few times with my friends. My girlfriend still can't watch it though - she said once was enough. If she wasn’t watching live on a backstage TV then she was pretty much by my side for most of it anyway. It’s pretty wild though. There's literally blood everywhere. Just buckets of i -
“OW! You'll have to go easy there. That's where I got stabbed by a shard of glass. The other cuts and scrapes are pretty much the same thing but smaller so they don't hurt as much. There’s another long-ish one from an electrical box I got slammed into. Believe it or not, one doctor thinks I have a concussion. But I mean, if I got a concussion every time I was thrown through a door into some jackass walking by or headbutted a security guard, I’d have like, a jillion concussions. Can you imagine? A concussion to go with all that blood. Oh, so much blood.”
The massage therapist, named Ellie if her name tag is anything to go by, looks about ready to retch at Lord’s detailed explanation of his injuries. Luckily for her, he changes the subject.
“Anyway, I'm starting to think my employer might be back on my side, you know now that I'm his champion and all. He did some pretty low things last month - he put my girlfriend in the ring with my worst enemy for one - but he seems to be coming around. He knows that I should be taking it easy because of my condition so he just put me into a tag team match where I won’t have to do a lot. Drink.”
The massage therapist sighs and rolls her eyes before placing a red Solo cup on the floor underneath Lord's face. Four long straws are connected and make a perfect path from cup to mouth.
“Done. Anyway, like I was saying: I shouldn’t have to do a lot in this match. I’m teaming up with this girl named Hanalei. It’s pronounced like Emily I think, but with Hana instead of an M, see. Neither of us have all that much experience - I think we probably combine for about 2 months of experience which means our opponents have like, triple the experience we do. And like, sure, neither of them are Supreme Champion like I am, but one of them has been a champion before.
“But Hana's got about twenty guys in masks that she can summon just about any time to help her out. I’m not usually one for people in masks, but I mean, if they’re on my side this time then I can’t see the harm just this once. And I mean, I’m going to be relying pretty heavily on them. I have no desire to touch the hand of that girl, let alone actually get tagged into the match and have to wrestle. She's kind of loopy if you ask me. So having twenty people fighting for me on my team is probably for the best. Besides, no one in this match has an issue with me, they're all with my partner, right? So... right?"
Lord turns around. He's alone and has been for a while - no one wants to listen to his inane drivel. Not even someone getting paid to.
