Vasarian_Brandy

Alright... Here's a 'clear the air' post, just because I want the +1. And frankly, my past doesn't bother me much anyway... Yes, Syd and I dated. Almost 2 years. Ian... Well... Half of his heritage is up for debate. Somewhere between me and LDP. Figure the implications out for yourselves. You're all smart. So... Yes, I knew Syd IRL. I knew of LDP, but never met him. Same with Sarah as LDP, but less of the 'baby-daddy' quasi-drama there. And if ever those other two come back and see this... (Shrugs) Sorry, but I don't feel like having ruminations going around about me, so... Deal.

I take it this is a word limit-less card because it's a PPV, right?

Bumpage back to the first page... Anxious about the post-trading deadline happenings? I know I am.

A little over 5, if my math is right... I think I remember his birthday being like... July of '99?

Ahh... Gotcha... Different group, same schtick... Gotcha. And I'll reserve my opinions of said person. And... Uhm... No.

Well how's this: I know both Sarah and LDP from the whole online thing. I actually knew Sky IRL. Found out there was a good few folks in Ohio within a couple hours of me back in the day. And who knows, never know if the servicefolk's paths will all cross. And you've only got me by 2 years... Heh. Don't worry... All us old farts gotta stick together.

Well... I can't in good conscience say I know Sarah IRL... All our yammering back and forth has been online. But she's someone I definitely wouldn't mind meeting someday.

Heh... Still doing the ol' SFOL thing hmm? I dabbled back with it for a little bit, but as much flux as my work schedule has, I'd never be able to keep an 'assignment'. Anyway, nice to see you're alive, (mostly) well, and still kicking. And I'm sure Ian still likes her. He's too young to be hateful.

(Decides not to reply the way he was originally wanting to...) I've been down with a stomach virus this weekend... Plus the fact that, well, shit with my work tends to crop up unexpected like, sick or not... (Shrug) Hope the haiku's good.

Wow... I never knew. Nice to see you back and such. How's things?

MAIN EVENT TAG TEAM EXTRAVAGANZA!!! Toxxic and Sean Davis vs Annie Eclectic and Todd Cortez - Ichiban will deal with being teamed up with a penis (no offense, Todd) long enough to extract revenge on Toxxic. Then she'll stomp on multiple sets of male genetalia, kiss Jet once more, then be chased out of the arena by Ebony. (Grin) HARDCORE NON-TITLE MATCH Andrea Montgomery vs Carnage - She's so wacky, it could happen. HARDCORE-GAMERS TITLE SHOT FREE-FOR-ALL!!! Austin Sly vs. Christian Fury vs. Manson vs. Mike Hall vs. Danny Dagda vs. Evan Wolfe - Thusfar, Mike Hall will -not- win. DD will write if he knows what's good for him. And I will write.

Hmm... That's not a bad situation to be in, really... I'll stick with Boston, thanks.

Well... Hall better get his stuff up, or his entrance will be... Less than flattering...

6 people... (Can already see about 2k devoted to intros...) Well... It's an interesting card to say the least, I suppose. I guess. Hmm. Well, whatever. (Shrug)

Decent... A breather before the PPV, which I have no idea if I'm in or not, nor do I care. If I'm in, great. If I'm not... (Shrug) Cool by me. I'm sure I'll bang out a promo for this show or something. And you know what I haven't had in a long while? Sex. Period. EDIT: I know there's 2 more shows including this one before the PPV, but a rest is a rest.

Bump off the second page. Evo, when's May going up?

(Seconds the emotion) Heh heh...

Sucky first month, but it's early... And I'm on pace for a record in strikeouts??? I thought I improved my 'patience' in Spring Training... w00t! for more speed... More doubles, more steals! (Blades, injuring himself for 6 months) Shit!

For "Thunder" Fury's Spring Training: Batters: Contact Hitting 4 Power Hitting 6 Strike Zone Judgment 6 Defense 4

I'd call this an awesome first season...

Well... I'd have to say the primary one I'd love Fury to come to the plate to is "Swing, Swing'" by the All-American Rejects. Otherwise... Linkin Park, Incubus, System of a Down, Prodigy... All sorts like that.

Eagerly awaiting the '20 season... Already have my Spring Training plan in place.

For those that are new, that might not know the history... For those that are the veterans, who don't have access to Insider on the IGN boards... The fateful series of promos that brought darkness to the light. So says the Clan... Heh. ----- PROMO: ...And One To Bind Them... Silent sits alone in his apartment, watching the storm outside from a large leather chair in the corner of the room. Rain patters against the small window and soft piano music plays eerily in the background as the leader of the Clan comtemplates his match on Metal. The Silent One rises abruptly and crosses to a bookshelf on the far right wall, his shadow flickering in the wavering candlelight. He searches a moment amongst the many tomes on the shelf before removing a small, unlabeled black notebook. He picks up a pen lying on the bookshelf, takes both back to his chair and begins to write... "I am concerned with the state of the Clan to date. Thoth is away on...personal business until later this week. For the time being, I am the Master's sole representative in the IGNJL. This is unacceptable. This XF9 foolishness is beginning to annoy me. I can't allow such a pathetic group of belligerents to endanger the dominance of what the Master and I have worked so hard to build..." "If all goes according to plan, the Clan will secure itself a new enforcer in a few short days. There is the small matter of his friends, and of course there will be interference on the part of XF9, but Thoth and I can certainly fufill our part of the bargain. Another candidate poses a different set of troubles, but Thoth has promised to deal with this...special...case in his own way. He described his plan to me, and I must say I approve. I will make my appearance when he asks, and the Clan will number four by the time this week is out." "The other...candidate...he troubles me. His skill is great indeed, and he would be a most valuable addition to the Clan before our war begins. But his will is strong, and his heart is pure...the Master would be most pleased if I could bring such a one into the fold. I believe he will need some...persuasion if he is to be inducted. I will make a side trip on my way to Anaheim...I believe I may need the Master's aid with this one...but it will be worth the effort. The corruption of a good man's heart..." Silent looks up from his journal as lightning flashes outside his window. He smiles to himself, then closes the book and replaces it on the shelf. The psychopath enters his bedroom, flips on a light switch, illuminating the room with a dim red light, and drags his suitcases out of the closet to pack for his trip to Anaheim. The screen slowly fades to black as the piano music plays on. A final whisper can be heard above the music and the rain... So says...the Clan... END PROMO ----- PROMO: “Come With Me.” Somewhere in Iowa, a small auditorium houses about 4,000 people, watching an IGNJL house show with a mild amount of interest. The only sounds that can be heard during the match are the grunts and shouts of the two men competing…suddenly, one of the men ducks behind the other, spins his opponent around, and rocks him with a Stunner! The crowd pops big for the familiar move as the attacker picks his victim up and delivers ANOTHER Stunner, pins the fallen wrestler… ONE! TWO! THREE!… Christian Fury stands in the IGNJL ring, fresh off a win over Cara…Cari….Carimbulo? Something like that…the Fury sighs as Ben Hardy climbs into the ring for the post-match interview. “Congradulations on your win, Mr. Fury,” gushes Hardy, “It’s always a joy for the fans to be able to see you compete.” “Well, geez, thank you Ben,” beams a winded Fury, “I do what I do for the fans, whether the show’s in a high school gym or Madision Square Garden. I do my best…” Christian grins briefly and spins to face the audience before yelling “TO GIVE ALL THE FURY’S FAN WHAT THEY F*CKIN’ WANNA SEE!” The audience pops again as Fury turns back to Ben Hardy. “But seriously, Ben, I’m trying to stay focused on my match against Longdogger Pete on Crimson. I want that European title shot, Ben, maybe now more than ever…” “What do you mean, Christian?” asks Hardy. “Well, everyone knows about the feud that Ava…Malice, sorry, and Munich had over that belt, right?” Scattered cheers are heard throughout the crowd as Fury continues. “Damn it, Munich gave his all in that ladder match. He should’ve won. He should be the European champion, not the excuse for a human being that Avalanche has become…I mean, damn it, Ben.” A frustrated Christian Fury sighs, searching for the right words to express his feelings. “The Clan destroyed what had the potential to be an epic match, you know? I’m just tired of them, Silent in particular. He ran roughshod over the ML before it folded. What he did to Vlad de Burrov in their match still makes my blood boil.” “And now that people like myself have a fresh start, people like Munich have a chance to make a name for themselves, what happens? The Clan sends the call out to anybody sick enough to join them! I’m sick of this, Ben!” Fury yells into his mic, drawing louder and louder cheers from the crowd. “I hate what they did to the ML, what they’re doing to the JL as we speak! Not all of us are like them, Ben! Some of us still believe in love, sportsmanship, and common decency! Compassion towards other human beings, Ben! The Clan doesn’t understand that, Silent doesn’t understand that! And anything I can do to keep them from gaining another foothold here…I will do.” Christian grimaces as he stares into the camera. “The European title belongs around the waist of someone who deserves it, not with someone like Malice who’s sold himself to the Devil…I will earn that right, Ben, I intend to…” And the building is plunged into total darkness. After a few moments of confusion…a familiar voice rings out from the loudspeakers… “Strong words, Fury. You would bring us down then, would you? I expected as much. But there is much, oh so much, Fury, that you do not understand. Things have been planned that you cannot comphrend…so know then, Fury, who carries so much rage in his heart. Know…and then know fear…” A sickening green light slowly brightens over the ring and over the entrance as Puff Daddy’s “Come With Me” begins to play. First Malice enters, arms crossed against his chest at the top of the ramp. Next comes Thoth, adjusting his gloves as he enters through the curtains, his head hung low and his hands folded in front of him. “You can’t run…” “You can’t hide…” “No surprise, close those eyes…” “Come with me…” The Silent One enters, his arms raised high and a twisted grin upon his face. His cane held in one hand, he stands just to the right of Malice, absorbing the boos of the crowd as his music fades away. “So, Fury, you would picture yourself a righteous man? An avenging angel? Thoth knows all about angels…and demons….you think you could be a threat to us? To ME?” The psychopath pauses a moment before continuing. “Maybe you could, my rage-filled friend. Maybe you could make a difference…like Lara made a difference with you, didn’t she? Don’t look so surprised, it’s common knowledge, Fury. She quells the anger, the pain, doesn’t she? “Perhaps you should reconsider your options, Fury…roll the tape.” “Is it rolling?” “…Yeah.” “Excellent. Let’s go, shall we?” A camera hidden in some sort of hat captures a surprisingly presentable Silent on his way into the University of Washington’s medical center. Hair pulled back, a black dress shirt, black slacks…the sunglasses, of course. The Silent One flashes a sick grin for the camera, then proceeds through the sliding doors… “Lara Gabriel, please?” the quiet killer questions the receptionist smoothly. “I’m a friend of Christian’s. He asked me to give her a ride to the show in Anaheim.” “Did he really?” a suspicious woman asks from behind the desk. “He did, actually. Don’t mention this to Lara, but…he’s mentioned rings and knots quite often in the last few days, if you catch my drift…” “OH MY…my GOODness!” giggles the receptionist. “I had no idea…hold on, let me page her.” Still giggling, the woman mumbles into a small speakerphone, asking for Lara. Several minutes later, Lara Gabriel emerges, just recently changed into a pair of jeans and a plain blue t-shirt. “And you are…?” enquires Lara. The most unstable, dangerous man in the IGNJL flashes his too-white teeth, the grin of a shark closing in on its prey… “Christopher...” “Christopher Richards.” The Clansmen extends a hand in greeting, which Lara tentatively takes. “It’s a pleasure to actually meet you…we can rarely get Christian to stop talking about you to and from the shows.” Lara blushes slightly as Silent releases her hand. “Well, um, thank you, I suppose. Maria tells me that Christian sent you?” “Yes, he did. He told me that he had promised to pick you up while he was in town, but he was given a few house shows to do on the way up from Anaheim. I told him I was coming up this way to hang out with my friend Nick…Nick, this is Lara. The one Christian goes on about all the time?” ”Nice to meet you.” grumbles Malice as he quickly shakes Lara’s hand. The camera jostles slightly, but stays focused on Silent. “We have to be back at the ampitheatre in about two hours, Chris. We really should go.” Silent looks briefly at his watch. “Yeah, we should. Come on, Lara, I think it’s only fair we get to go on about Christian to you…” Lara laughs as she leaves through the doors, completely unaware of just who she is walking beside. Malice turns one final time, and the camera captures Maria giving him a thumbs up as the sliding doors close one final time… The Silent One grins at Fury, who is in a state of shock in the ring. “Sadly, the lovely Lara Gabriel will not be joining us this evening. She’s currently chained to a wooden chair in a deserted warehouse screaming at no one in particular. Lara belongs to me now, Fury…” “YOU BASSSTTTTARRRRRDDDDDD!” screams Fury as he leaps clear over the ropes and onto the floor, charging up the ramp to tear the Silent One limb from limb. Malice and Thoth move to intercept the crazed Christian. Fury decks Malice with a quick right hand, but as he does so Thoth sends the Fury crashing to the floor with a roundhouse kick to the throat. Malice quickly applies the Serpent’s Coil and Fury screams in pain, still clawing his way towards Silent. The words “Lara” and “Kill you” can be clearly heard over the psychopath’s laughter as Thoth mercilessly drives his boots into the side of Fury’s head. Silent raises the mic to his lips. “Take him.” The two Clansmen lift Fury to his feet and drag him bodily back to the ring. They throw him in and slide in after him, driving their boots into the ribs of Christian. The Silent One leisurely climbs into the ring as Malice whips Fury into the ropes. As Christian comes back across the ring, Malice catches him with a drop toe hold as Silent superkicks Fury’s jaw clean off his head. A resounding SMACK echoes throughout the arena as Fury falls to the ground, clutching at his jaw. He has no time to recover, however, as Thoth comes flying off the turnbuckle, slamming the air out of Fury with a Frog Splash. Thoth and Malice drag the bleeding Christian to his feet, the fan favorite only semi-conscious through a haze of blood and tears. “Listen to me, Fury,” whispers Silent as he twirls his cane absently in one hand. “Lara belongs to the Clan now, and so do you. You follow my orders. You obey my instructions. You do as I say, or Lara and you both will suffer. I will teach you to respect your betters, Fury…and you will know fear.” “So says the Clan.” Silent drives Fury to the mat with a cane shot to the back of the head. “Come With Me” begins to play as Silent assumes the crucifix pose in the center of the ring, Thoth and Malice standing over an unconscious Fury… “You comphrend me? You want to end me?” “Think this is drama? You want to feel some trauma?” ”Then come with me…” END PROMO ----- PROMO: Building A Mystery The blood, sweat, and pain is still fresh from his Metal match, but Christian Fury is distracted. Even with a hard-fought win tickling his mind... The pain and suffering caused to him, the treachery Iceman displayed with that Retro Helix after the bell... Malice with the assist... His mind is a whirl of confusion. But one thing is certain: Ever since the kidnapping, his mind rests firmly with her... Why him? Why her? Just what in the Hell is going on??? "Damnit!" Fury screams as he kicks a nearby locker, all thoughts of victory washed away in a fresh blast of anger. A moment later, though, even that's wiped away as an envelope flitters to the ground from atop the locker, knocked to the ground by his rage. He picks it up... It's adressed to him, by last name only. He slips open the envelope, and pulls out a slip of paper, and reads it slowly, though there isn't much to read: "Follow the map enclosed, to the exact direction. Deviation will be met with swift retribution. We are everywhere, so we will know... So says the Clan. - Silent" Fury crumples up the note, then removes the map from the envelope. And as swiftly as he entered the locker room, he leaves, determined to get to the bottom of things here and now. ----- PROMO: The Lesson (Prologue) Christian Fury speeds off in his S2000, a computer-printed map fluttering slightly in the passenger seat beside him. The note left to him was straight and to the point, but the route to his destination was anything but... Twists and turns through the various side streets, and even directions that weren't even on the map... But when he came to the 'hidden' turns, indeed they were there. "They're testing me," he mutters to himself, then he brings the car to a skidding stop. Up ahead, a dead end... He looks at the map again, then into the path beyond the headlights... Nothing but a clump of small shrubs that he can't see behind. He smirks, and cuts the wheel around turning the car back the way it came. "Someone made a mistake," he muses, smirking. "I can follow this map to where to go... Besides, they can't hurt me in the car." As the tail lights of the Honda fade from view, an unknown person in black rises from besides the shrubs, and dials a number on a palm-held cell phone. - 20 minutes later, Fury pulls the metallic-colored Honda into an abandoned parking lot, where the directions end. Abandoned, he notes, except for a black sedan, and 2 men, all in black, approaching his car. Fury slowly steps out, looking around for the Silent One, but he doesn't have much of a chance before the 2 are upon him. "You're late," one states simply. "As the Master stated, any deviation would be dealt with swiftly and severely. And it already has." Fury frowns, puzzled, before realization dawns on him like a bolt from the night sky. "LARA!" Fury's scream echos throughout the abandoned lot as he lunges for the sedan. The quieter of the two moves quickly, wrapping a deceptively strong arm around Fury's neck, the other arm around Fury's arms as he starts to flail. He glares at the "spokesman" of the duo. "It isn't my fault that the directions were wrong... Maybe you should blame your 'Master'." He gets the last word out with a hiss, just before the 'spokesman' drives a fist hard and lightning quick into Fury's gut. The man in black grabs Fury by the chin and lifts his head. Fury finds himself staring into reflective sunglasses. "You will learn to pay homage to the Master," the man says in a low, cruel voice, "Or you will die." Fury catches the sound of a -third- set of footsteps just before a searing pain shoots through his arm, and the world around him quickly crumbles to a liquid, drugged dark... - After what seems like ages, Christian Fury finally feels the veils of unconciousness lifting from around him... Leaving him in darkened state of affairs. He notices several things, even through the fog still lingering from whatever concoction they gave him: There are others around him... And he's definitely not in the same clothes he came in... The fabric, the fit... All wrong. He starts to sit up slowly, but finds he can't. He's being held in place by several pairs of hands. A voice floats into his mind: "He's coming to." A small bustle of activity is heard around him, a single set of footsteps aproaching him... From the right. About 10 feet... 6 feet... Then stop. "Good." The simple voice, in that one word, drives Fury into a renewed strength. He struggles and fights against his captors, kicking and growling like something caged. "Silent!" The name slips from Fury's lips in a raged tone. "What the Hell is the meaning of this? Where is she? WHERE IS SHE???" There's movement on the right, a set of hands leaving, then *WHACK!* Fury groans at the swift pain that only a cane shot can bring. "You are not in a position to make any requests, Fury," the quiet killer responds, still enshrouded in the darkness. "However, to demonstrate the seriousness of any request I make of you, and to alleviate any doubts of our consequences, observe." The psychopath snaps his fingers, and his minions swiftly bring Christian to a restrained sitting position. In front of him, then sound of a door being slid aside, then nothing... Suddenly, a light brightens in front of him, and there in the glow... "LARA!" She looks up at the brightening light, and starts to speak, but her words are unheard, the room she is held captive in being not only soundproofed, but windowed by one-way glass. Her clothing torn... Fresh bruises mar her angelic face... Tears track down unchecked as she sits in a wooden chair, arms bound around the back. Fury turns towards where he thought Silent was standing, but sees nothing. "Lara..." Fury whispers, then his voice hardens. "Damn you, Silent, what did you do?" A chuckle starts from behind him, edging to his left as the Silent One, in his usual trenchcoat and glasses, and his cane at his side. "I have only kept my word," the psychotic man responds coldly. "You deviated from my instructions, and you can see the results for yourself." He motions to the beaten Lara. "Damnit!" Fury tries to fight his way up, but is held tight by the others. "Your directions were flawed! They went to a dead end!" Suddenly, he lunges again, and breaks free of one or two of the holds... He tries to ready a charge at the watching psychopath, but is quickly felled as two more dark-clad people enter from the shadowy edges of the room, and hammer at Fury with a mad abandon. "Enough!" The Silent One's word strikes like thunder to his minions, and they fall to their knees in a sick sign of reverence as the trainees take hold of Fury again. Silent crosses over, face-to-face with Fury. "Tut tut, Fury... I would've expected more powerful observation out of you... Not only in the supposed dead end, but in the fact that you have no escape here." He grins, then doubles Fury over with a cane shot to the gut before stepping back again. "You will learn quickly, Fury... The Clan controls you now. The Clan controls Lara now. You belong to us. And if you know what is best for you and your love..." The light douses in the 'room' where Lara is, almost on command... "You will be wise to not fight." He suddenly snaps around to the trainees holding Fury. "Take him." The trainees quickly comply, dragging Fury away... - The next week or so for Fury can only be described as 'training' in the worst degree... He is allowed very little sleep, maybe an hour a night at last check... He is made to do physically-trying, yet pointless labor... Something on the order of digging a hole, then filling it back up.. Only to re-dig it again. And if he complains or slacks in his 'duties', he doesn't suffer much physicly, but mentally and emotionally as Lara suffers for -his- mistakes. Silent makes it a point to bring her wherever he may be, so that he can witness first-hand what consequences await any deviation from the way of the Clan. And he learned that he wasn't invulnerable to physicality... On more than one occasion, he has wanted to confront Silent... The other 'trainees' protect their Master in an overzealous manner... And yet, he has no time to recover, as he is set right back to task. He has only the stark blacks to wear, and they offer no comfort in his captivity. He has thoughts of escape, but those thoughts and actions are quickly put down. He has seen some of the tortures that await those that disobey the Clan... - As he is allowed to return to the spartan 'room' he was assigned after another day of 'training', he finally knows what's being attempted: They want to break him down piece by piece, until he is most vulnerable... Then beyond that... He's too afraid to think of what may be past that. But as he lays down, the clock glaring "1:10 AM" at him, he shudders to himself. He'll be damned if he lets them know it's actually working... He'll continue to fight them, yes... But even he doesn't know how long he can go on. Even he doesn't know how long he can see Lara abused and man-handled on account for his errors. Even -he- doesn't know how long before he has no choice but to turn his back on everything he's said in the past, and bend to the will of the Clan... ----- PROMO: The Lesson (Part One) Christian Fury is awakened in the dark of night, an unfamiliar man shaking him awake and out of his bed. Fury glances at the small clock beside his rickety wooden bed as he is pulled from the covers-3 am. More sleep than he had expected. He is still dressed in the “regulation” clothes he received on his arrival. One pair black boots, one pair black socks, one pair black pants, one black shirt. And, for those bright and early mornings, one pair sunglasses. One of many subtle jabs by his captors. Christian Fury is led down the hall by his “assistant”, past several more sparsely furnished rooms. Fury has long since learned to keep his head straight and his eyes forward during these early-morning sessions. There’s nothing in those rooms that he’s going to want to see. Fury shudders involuntarily at the thought of just how many of these people there may be… But there’s no time for that now. His assistant turns sharply into a door on the left. Fury follows after, entering a large storage chamber-perhaps the building was a warehouse? Six of his fellow trainees stand in the center of the cavernous room, forming a circle around a wooden chair. And tied to the chair… “LARA!” Christian bolts toward his love, only to be met halfway across the floor by the six men. Swinging wild rights and lefts, Fury may have dropped a few of them, he thinks, but the numbers overwhelm him, and he is carried struggling towards the woman he loves. As he approaches Lara, Fury’s heart breaks to see her. Her clothes are torn, her body covered with small cuts and bruises. Mascara blends with the tears that pour down her cheeks, and her hair is matted and damp. She sees her lover, and she screams, but the electrical tape that covers her mouth reduces it to a muffled yelp. Christian’s struggles are renewed, but he cannot break free as the six set him down, keeping his arms pinioned behind his back. “WHERE IS HE?!?!?” Fury screams, refusing to give up the fight so easily. “I know he’s here, AND I KNOW HE DID THIS!” Christian kicks wildly backwards, sending one of the men to his knees in pain. Two more trainees appear from the shadows, striking their captive quickly in the stomach. Fury is winded, and drops to his knees, but his eyes are still defiant, and he raises his head just enough to spit in the face of his assailants. “Tell…me…where...he...is….” “I’m right here, Fury. I’ve been expecting you.” The Silent One emerges from the shadows along the far right wall as his voice rings out hauntingly through the room. He is dressed in black, as always, complete with trenchcoat and cane. The trainees not keeping Fury restrained fall to one knee in deference as the psychopath approaches them. “I take it you have enjoyed your training, Fury?” Silent grins as one of the trainees rises just long enough to bloody Fury’s lip with a quick left hand before returning to his knees. “Please, rise.” The trainees obey. “You’ve progressed quite well, Fury. I usually treat the newcomers a little more…gently than I have you, so as not to lose too many…but you’ve impressed me, Fury. That’s why I brought your precious Lara to you, you see? You deserve a reward.” Fury lunges forward as Silent absently strokes Lara’s cheek, but the trainees yank him back, nearly dislocating his arms in the process. “Oh, come now, Fury. You should know better by now.” The leader of the Clan walks slowly towards a defiant Christian, who is still breathing hard and bleeding freely. Silent kneels down, coming face to face with his captor, his sunglasses reflecting the murderous glare in the young man’s eyes. “Tell me, Fury….do you…love….this woman?” Christian spits in the quiet killer’s face, smearing his glasses. The cane comes too quickly for Fury to brace himself, and he finds himself lying on the floor, gasping in pain. He tries to catch a glimpse of Silent’s face as the Clansmen removes his glasses to wipe them clean, but the trainees force his face against the floor, not letting him move until the Silent One’s glasses are back in place. “You do, I see. Very well, Fury. This should go rather smoothly.” Silent removes the tape from Lara’s mouth in one smooth motion, drawing a small gasp from her before she begins to speak… “Please, please, don’t hurt me, don’t hit me anymore, Christian, please, don’t let him, please, please, please…” Silent casually backhands Lara, sending her almost out of her chair. Fury lets forth an inhuman yell and surges forward, only to be held back by Silent’s maddened followers. The Silent One produces a small switchblade as he grins at a tearful Christian Fury. “You only think you hate me now, Fury…but I’ve taken nothing from you yet. If you are to be of any use to me…you must learn what it means to hate.” Fury’s screams are matched only by Lara’s as the Silent One, blade in hand, sets about his task. END PROMO ----- PROMO: The Lesson (Part Two) Christian Fury collapses into the wooden excuse for a bed, mentally, physically, emotionall drained. The events of the day are still a swirl in his mind... - He remembers how Silent taunted him, goaded him, dangling Lara in front of him like a prize, but keeping her just out of reach... And then what Silent had done... The screams... God, the screams... From both Lara and Fury himself... He had cried, screamed, fought like a man possessed to stop the madman, to undo what had been done... But he couldn't. Lara suffered, Fury suffered... He didn't know who Silent enjoyed suffering more. Yes... He'd enjoyed it, that twisted, sadistic smile on his face as he set about his work. The 'trainees' had forced him to watch... And when Silent was done, he had turned to Fury... Uttering in that self-righteous, cynical voice: "Now, she is forever yours." He laughed and grinned, and Fury wanted nothing more than to knock the smile, his teeth right down his throat... He fought with everything he had, and broke loose... He flung himself at the quiet killer, only to be thrown to the ground just inches from his prey. It took a half-dozen people to hold him down as they forced him to his knees before the Silent One. The psychopath leaned down, looking into Fury's eyes, though all Fury could see was his own face. Silent smiled slightly. "Good," he whispered. "Good... I see it there, within you. The rage, the hate, building inside." He stood again, nodding. "Perhaps you will be useful to me still, Fury... So says the Clan." He looked at the trainees with a sinister smile. "Take him to his training." And another day, Fury spent toiling away in his 'duties'... Silent stood watch, Lara in tow, as usual. She looked so fragile, pale, weak... And despite all that, Silent struck her when he saw fit, when Fury wasn't performing to the Clan's 'standards'. He tried his best, only to save Lara from more abuse and hurt... But he was tormented emotionally... He knew he was. He wanted to fight these people with his very being... But... There was a part of him that found all of this a... Challenge? A means to make himself better than before? The thought was ugly, out-of-place, and completely out-of-character... But it was there... Was -that- what Silent had seen in his eyes? - Fury brings himself back to the present... But something comes with him... That thought... Nagging, plaguing the back of his mind, is there. He tries desperately to shake it off, but it clings, like the grip the Clan has in his life now. He laid back in the bed, knowing they would probably be in for him soon... His mind cluttered, wandering, part of it scared to death of falling victim to the ways of these... People... What scares him more is that only part of his mind was thinking that... What the other part thinks, the part he refused to listen to though it persisted... Was too unbelievable to consider. - PROMO: The Lesson (Part Three) Fury sleeps as the clock on the stand next to his 'bed' continues its march forward, seconds and minutes churning slowly by, never to be regained. Sleeping time is supposed to be a time of utter relaxation, a time where the body recovers from the 'daily grind', no matter how extreme... But the sleep of a tortured man is never restful... And his dreams are never pleasant. - The training he received never slowed from that fateful day... If anything, he knew, it became more trying, more dangerous for his well-being, and Lara's... Almost as if Silent knew he had Christian on the ropes, and knew that ever so slowly he was succumbing to the mental and physical toll that this time with the Clan had exposed him to. He could feel his fight leaving him as each day passed, being replaced... Not by the feelings of hopelessness that he expected, but an overwhelming feeling of... Purpose? Challenge? This time with the Clan had been to mold him, to shape him for something. He had not only had physical training, but mental drilling as well. The Silent One knew how to reach deep into one's psyche, one's soul, and draw out what they stod for most... And he had an uncanny way of twisting a person's purpose to fit the will of the Clan. Deep down he knew that he was being fed mis-information, and that he was being manipulated beyond anything he could've imagined, but... He didn't know what, but the sense of order... The sense of... Fight? Yes, that was it... The sense of fight for a greater purpose... It had invaded him, filled him with a different resolve... Something he felt he could relate to. After all, he had been brought up in an arena of competition, of trying to out-do, out-last the opponents, right? His mother's business, his father's pro wrestling career... He had been raised to be the best at whatever he did... And Silent, and the Clan... They were just refining that, weren't they? His unconcious thoughts turned from the training to Lara... Every feature of her seemed to stand out starkly in the darkened world of his dreaming state, as if she were back-lighted... Every bruise, every cut... Every blemish on her skin. He had put them there through his disobedience to the Clan... Why should she, an innocent, be punished for his mistakes? Or... Was she that innocent? She had tried to deflect his true purpose through friendship and love... Distract him from his goals... Maybe he had lost his edge in the ring due to her... Maybe his chances at gold were derailed because of her... His mind's eye focused on the one thing that had caused him the greatest pain in all of this: The "Fury" that Silent had carved out on the delicate skin of her chest. Why did he do it? Was it just something sick and twisted? Or was Silent trying to tell him something? The more he thought of it, the more he wondered that maybe it was to teach him something... Teach him that he let his emotions override everything... That he let trite things like love and companionship cloud his reasoning, his drive and fire for gold and fame in the wrestling business... He thought he'd known the answer, but maybe now it was completely opposite of what he'd believed... - Elsewhere, yet at the same time, Silent has stayed ever-vigilant of his fledgling, and is well-aware of his fears and thoughts, even at those times where Fury didn't know he was being observed. He knows that the young man's resolve was wavering... That he was becoming pliant, impressionable... And now, Silent resolves, is the time to bring another member into the fold. - He pressed Fury into line with the others, made him prove himself as the quiet killer would have any other of his trainees prove themselves. He led Fury to believe that he was 'special', always under the scrutiny of the Master, then he made Fury no better than any other. And he found the Fury responded favorably, trying to remain atop the others, trying to keep the Silent One impressed with him... Worthy of the psychopath's attentions. Lara was now a mere shadow of the 'tool' she once was. Fury needed less and less prodding, and was slowly coming of his own. Soon, the quiet killer mused, very soon... - And soon has become now, Silent muses as he enters Fury's domicile, finding the young man already arisen. The Silent One nods, faintly impressed, as Fury looks at him with a veil of resolve on his features. "The Master has come a long way to meet with you, Fury," the quiet killer states with a hint of reverence in his voice. "I feel that you are ready, but it is he that will decided your ultimate fate with the Clan." Fury nods slowly, thoughts slowly sorting into order from the jumbled heap that sleep had introduced. "I'm ready," Fury says simply. Silent's lips twist into a grimace. "You may think you are," the psychopath retorts, "But that is yet to be seen. Just do not disappoint me, Fury... And do not disapoint him." The two quietly leave the room. - A half hour passes, and the pair were driven to their destination in the dead of night. Even if it had been day, Fury wouldn't have been able to remember how to get back, seeing all the twists and turns the car has made in the trip. Finally, the car stops, and the two disembark in front of a rather impressive mansion. They walk slowly to the front door, then stop before it, waiting... Fury wonders to himself when they will have to ring the bell. A split-second on the heels of his thought is when the door swings open slowly, revealing... Darkness. Only the silouette of a man is evident. Instantly, the Silent One kneels in reverence... Fury remains on his feet, realizing slowly that he is before the one known as Spider Nekura, or Reece Black... The Master of the Clan. "You may rise," the voice of the Master states, and Silent does so slowly. Fury can feel the Master's gaze upon him, though he can't see the man's eyes. "I have been expecting you, young Fury," the voice says simply. "Please, accompany me, and I will see if you are as worthy of being brought into the Clan as the Silent One states." Fury takes a deep breath, then steps through the threshold into the darkness, in more ways than one... ----- PROMO: The Lesson (Epilogue) Nothing can be heard in the blackness of the room where she sits, save for her own breathing. The pain from the beatings she has recieved at the hands of the one known as Silent has slowly faded down to a dull throb that seems to coat her body like a cape. Her only hope is that nothing has happened to Chris. She knew he was fighting this... Clan... -Had- been fighting them almost from the time he entered the ring for the first time. But now, she prays that he has enough fight to help them both escape together. Slowly, a crack of light... The door opening. She turns to see, though the light renders her slightly dazzled as her eyes adjust... But she can see the silouette in the doorway as one she'd instantly recognize... "Chris!" Her voice strains from breaking as her heart flutters and jumps in her chest. The light becomes bearable, and she can see Fury entering the room slowly. Her happiness suddenly wavers and breaks down to a look of concern. Fury's face is cold, emotionless as he looks at her, and for some reason, though she'd trusted this man with her rescue, she shivers. "Chris, what's wrong? What have they done to you?" His expression is unchanged as he looks at her again, his eyes locking at the slowly-healed 'Fury' that Silent had carved into her chest. His eyes narrow, then he turns, shutting the door behind him. As he turns back, he reveals a knife... The same switchblade that Silent had used. Lara struggles hard in the restraints, eyes widened with fear. "Chris! Please don't do this... Please!" Her wails and cries fall on deaf ears as he approaches her, and soon the room rattles with the screams of one, but not the other, as it was the first time... - Fury exits the room, his task complete... The door shuts behind him, leaving the woman whimpering and crying in utter pain, loss, and betrayal. He walks to the Silent One, handing the bloodied switchblade slowly back, his eyes the same cold they were before. The quiet killer nods, then motions to the one-way glass barricading the room. "Look upon your work, Fury," he intones. Fury turns to see Lara, weak and pale, bleeding from the re-opened gashes, the crimson droplets flowing from the 'Fury'... And as he looks, he smiles slightly, seeing finally the message there. "Good..." Silent says with a slow, cruel smile. "You finally understand. And you have finally learned that we are the future... We are the vehicle to success and domination..." Fury holds up a hand, smiling slowly, as if he found a long lost brother. "...So says the Clan," he finishes. And Fury knows he finally does understand. The Clan is all he needs now, and soon... The Clan will be all there is. And he will be an instrument to that.

“SON OF A FUCKING BITCH!!!” The words are barely from my lips when I wince at my own voice. The med tech looks up from his work on my knee, and I can just feel the color drain from my face. “Sorry,” I say sheepishly. He shrugs, and then sets back to work looking at my knee. The fucker’s throbbing, swollen… However, it’s distracting me from the general pain and soreness coursing its way through my body. I lean back in the chair… The aggravation… The absolute frustration I’m feeling right now… There’s very little keeping me from going on a complete fucking rampage… Oh… The fact that Lezaire worked my knee into near oblivion, and I can barely walk right at the moment, is stopping me pretty good. I close my eyes, reliving the match in my mind… …Before Fury can power away however, Ace grabs a hold of Fury’s ‘suspect’ knee, wrapping his legs around it in a grapevine and locking on a leg lock! Christian’s mind tells him to escape, but his body is already way ahead of him, scampering towards the bottom rope and clinging onto it to break the hold, but Lezaire still holds on for- “ONE!” “TWO!” “THREE!” “FOUR!” -as long as he can, before Kivell threatens him with a DQ!... I should’ve figured the ropes wouldn’t stop him… Should’ve fought that somehow… That was the start of the downhill to the match… Just when it seems Ace may loose his grasp and let Fury slip away, he improvises, grabbing Fury’s knee and pulling it high into the air, before slamming the joint down against the canvas! A quiet yelp of pain escapes Fury, trying his best to not let anything on, but Lezaire smells blood, and not the trickle escaping from his own nose. With a quick pivot, Ace drives his knee into Christian’s spine, keeping the tag team champion firmly in place before yanking back on his leg with a Single Leg Crab! Unlike before, Fury finds it near impossible to budge with Lezaire’s knee grinding into his back and causing more than great discomfort. However, the real pain in shooting through his knee as Ace torques his leg left and right, pulling back on it as far as it will go! I let this… this kid… Man-handle me, out-think me… The fans cringe as Fury’s head bounces off the turnbuckle pad, but Lezaire doesn’t let go there, instead he keeps a firm hold, letting Fury land spine first down across his knees! OOOOOOHHHHHH!! The sight of Fury, draped over Lezaire’s knees, blood rushing to his head is a sick one, but Ace delights in his opponent’s predicament, not because he likes causing pain, but because it looks great on camera. Lezaire is not just a slave to the spotlight however as Fury will attest to, the Canadian making sure to wrench back on his injured leg mercilessly. This kid gave me barely any quarter… No sort of escape… …Fury then tries an Irish Whip into the ropes, but Lezaire digs in, holding still and not budging. Fury tries again but Ace refuses to move, but as he tries a third time, a searing pain shoots through his knee as he hyper extends in his attempt to whip Ace! Lezaire counters the whip, sending the tag team champion hobbling into the ropes. Lezaire grins as he waits for his opponent to return, making sure to lift him into the air with his injured leg, slamming him down- *WHAM!!* -face first with a flapjack! Lezaire suddenly comes to life, pivoting around and threading his own leg through Fury’s as he lies prone. Lezaire then reaches forward, linking his hands together and hooking them around Christian’s head with a face lock! The crowd cannot believe what they’re seeing as Fury struggles to fight on, Lezaire arching back, putting even more pressure on his neck and legs, which are tangled dangerously around Ace’s. His knee is on fire, pain shooting through it relentlessly… but he fight on! Using his arms which lie free, Fury digs into the mat and tries to pull himself forward, the bottom rope only a few inches away! Lezaire grabs Fury’s arm, holding it in his grasp while he applies the face lock! Fury struggles to move the final inches needed, his arm held at the side of his head as Lezaire wrenches back, until… *DING! DING! DING* And that, as they say, was that. I shake my head, all the pain having finally faded to a low-level throb with me not concentrating on it. Concentration. Yeah, that’s definitely something I was lacking tonight. My mind was completely preoccupied with the events on Lockdown. The cryptic message to Toxxic from Silent. And come to find out… There was another. I saw the replays on the Smarktron… The beating Toxxic took at the hands of the ex-Clan member… I can only imagine what Toxxic was thinking when he saw that little montage. Before this show I got some inside info on what exactly had gone on between the two in my absence, and I understood that there was no love lost between these two. I found myself sympathizing with the Straight-Edge Sensation for a moment. Then I chalked it up to the pain killers. The med tech finally looks up from his clipboard, clearing his throat. I must’ve really been off in my own little word… I look at him expectantly. “There’s some good news,” he says to me. “There’s no permanent damage. Just a little overextension and deep bruising.” He pauses for a moment… A pause I don’t really like. “There’s something else, isn’t there…” “Yes.” He sits down on the footstool by my chair. “If they wind up putting you on the next card, you’re not going to be at full strength by then. And if your opponent focuses on it, which is likely if they’ve scouted you at all, you could be risking some more severe damage.” I sigh, nodding. “The best we can do is send ahead the word to the next venue that you’ll need a pre-show treatment… Probably a shot.” He jots some notes down, gratefully missing the wince I showed. “We can do one for you now, and then some pain and anti-flammatory medication. Otherwise…” He hands me a slip of paper. “Ice it, stay off it as much as possible, typical stuff.” He looks at me for a moment. “Shall we?” I sigh, knowing damn well that I’ll probably not get much rest, let alone be left off the next card. “Hit me, Doc.” Why not? Everyone else had been the past week or so…

(Blinks) Oy vey... (Sighs, shakes his head) So when was this Clan run of yours?