Post by Wasp on May 8, 2017 18:51:46 GMT -5
He couldn't believe he had done it.
He had taken a match off Olivia Xavier. He was getting old, he was certainly rusty as hell, but he could apparently still hack it in the ring. He had thought his time was done, but maybe there was more than met the eye.
He looked at his surroundings, chuckling to himself as he did so. He had been here before, training in his gym, specifically in the old ring in the center. Then he had turned the place into a nice little profit maker, before dropping out of the wrestling and fitness scene altogether. He had never had the conviction to follow through with selling the gym. Maybe it had been a sign.
There were blue mats everywhere, kind of haphazardly laid out. He hadn't had a lot of time lately, as winning one match in a tournament usually meant you went on to another and so he had spent a lot of his time preparing himself. He was looking forward to this match, and not just because he had progressed further into the tournament. No. As he had been doing lately, Wasp watched the broadcast in it's entirety of Trauma, the same broadcast he had won his match on.
Now normally, this was just for training purposes, to watch what he could have done better. Before he had gotten back, it was just to kind of keep an eye on the scene. This time however, he had caught something he obviously hadn't been privy to the night of Trauma. There was a little tidbit where a certain pompous asshole named Kyle Shane had run his mouth a little bit about him. Called him a “has ran”. Hah!
Wasp smiled to himself and sipped from a cup of coffee he had placed down nearby earlier. A has ran? Maybe a has been, certainly he had not been back long enough to shake that doubt. A has ran though? This wasn't his first rodeo, and as his old partner had always said “Gold is gold” and Wasp definitely remembered holding a fair share of that.
He was scheduled to have a couple low intensity skirmish matches with some local wrestlers today, but he wasn't feeling his upper body strength. It was with a renewed sort of vigor that he found himself now curling some smaller weights, alternating arms because he was enjoying his coffee too much to set it down. A has ran? He smiled again feeling the burn in his arms, another reminder that he wasn't fully yet back where he wanted to be. He was going to show this Kyle Shane fellow what a has ran could do to a “who?”
When his arms were finally feeling like he had doled out enough punishment on them, he looked at the time on the clock high up on the far wall, squinting his eyes to make out the illuminated red numbers. 1:17pm. The local wrestlers weren't due in until three but Wasp was feeling feisty, restless even. This Kyle Shane fellow had gotten him riled up, and he had to admit, he had cheered a little bit watching the big man give it to him. He was excited that it was his turn to show Mr. Shane that even an old horse could learn new tricks.
He didn't want to overexert himself, because in his mind, these practice matches were some of the best training he could do, so he took to the treadmill sitting against the opposite wall of the clock and turned it on a low setting, climbing on. It was one thing to get himself in shape, that would come with time. It was another thing completely to get in the ring and just be in that experience again. He had been out a long time, and with only one match under his belt since he had returned and so he needed all the practice he could get.
His legs pumping and his mind on autopilot he got to thinking about PCW. Could he go all the way in this tournament and make a showing in the finals? He'd have to get through to the semifinals first, but that was probably his best bet and so he was less worried. He had learned long ago when people started throwing words around about people they had no business with, their bark was usually worse than their bite. Besides he would get more satisfaction in wiping the floor with the creep than High Tide would get from a lifetime supply of rum. He chuckled to himself.
Thinking about High Tide put an awfully nasty idea in his head. His coffee now finished he discarded the disposable cup in a nearby waste receptacle and dug his cellphone out of his shorts. He had it up to his ear and ringing in seconds.
“Hello?” the voice at the other end of the line came in, gruff sounding.
“High Tide old buddy old pal, how're you doing? I see you've got a match this week too congrats on your victory,” Wasp spoke quickly, knowing the way to the pirate's heart was through excessive flattery and alcohol.
“We'll see if I can get through it without getting me ass kicked, yar. How do you reckon you'll fare up against Mr. Kyle “I'm The Shit” Shane?” High Tide responded and Wasp could barely suppress a laugh. Apparently he had more in common with his old partner than he had realized, even after all this time.
“Oh the match I think I will be able to handle myself. I think you've taught me a few things about fighting dirty. However, I do have a proposition for you,” Wasp replied knowing he'd perk his old partner's interest up at the word proposition.
“Oh? Tell me more,” Tide replied and Wasp grinned earnestly. He was right. He quickly laid out the plan for High Tide and he could almost HEAR the grin forming on the pirate's face. Oh yes, this sort of thing was just up High Tide's alley.
“You had me at proposition my old friend. See you at Trauma, and don't forget the rum. A deal's a deal after all,” the pirate responding laughter ringing in his voice before he hung up.
Wasp was smiling too as he hung up the phone and stuffed it back into his shorts. He switched off the treadmill and looked up at the clock, squinting once again. 2:41pm. Fuck it, he'd just wait the twenty minutes until then. He just wished he didn't have to wait to step into the ring, toe to toe with Kyle Shane and show him just exactly what a “has ran” could do.
And so here it was, the first official day of the gym's reopening and what could very well be the reopening of his career. He just needed a carpet to get there, and he was more than willing to walk all over Kyle Shane to get there. Even if he did need an extra pair of boots.
He had taken a match off Olivia Xavier. He was getting old, he was certainly rusty as hell, but he could apparently still hack it in the ring. He had thought his time was done, but maybe there was more than met the eye.
He looked at his surroundings, chuckling to himself as he did so. He had been here before, training in his gym, specifically in the old ring in the center. Then he had turned the place into a nice little profit maker, before dropping out of the wrestling and fitness scene altogether. He had never had the conviction to follow through with selling the gym. Maybe it had been a sign.
There were blue mats everywhere, kind of haphazardly laid out. He hadn't had a lot of time lately, as winning one match in a tournament usually meant you went on to another and so he had spent a lot of his time preparing himself. He was looking forward to this match, and not just because he had progressed further into the tournament. No. As he had been doing lately, Wasp watched the broadcast in it's entirety of Trauma, the same broadcast he had won his match on.
Now normally, this was just for training purposes, to watch what he could have done better. Before he had gotten back, it was just to kind of keep an eye on the scene. This time however, he had caught something he obviously hadn't been privy to the night of Trauma. There was a little tidbit where a certain pompous asshole named Kyle Shane had run his mouth a little bit about him. Called him a “has ran”. Hah!
Wasp smiled to himself and sipped from a cup of coffee he had placed down nearby earlier. A has ran? Maybe a has been, certainly he had not been back long enough to shake that doubt. A has ran though? This wasn't his first rodeo, and as his old partner had always said “Gold is gold” and Wasp definitely remembered holding a fair share of that.
He was scheduled to have a couple low intensity skirmish matches with some local wrestlers today, but he wasn't feeling his upper body strength. It was with a renewed sort of vigor that he found himself now curling some smaller weights, alternating arms because he was enjoying his coffee too much to set it down. A has ran? He smiled again feeling the burn in his arms, another reminder that he wasn't fully yet back where he wanted to be. He was going to show this Kyle Shane fellow what a has ran could do to a “who?”
When his arms were finally feeling like he had doled out enough punishment on them, he looked at the time on the clock high up on the far wall, squinting his eyes to make out the illuminated red numbers. 1:17pm. The local wrestlers weren't due in until three but Wasp was feeling feisty, restless even. This Kyle Shane fellow had gotten him riled up, and he had to admit, he had cheered a little bit watching the big man give it to him. He was excited that it was his turn to show Mr. Shane that even an old horse could learn new tricks.
He didn't want to overexert himself, because in his mind, these practice matches were some of the best training he could do, so he took to the treadmill sitting against the opposite wall of the clock and turned it on a low setting, climbing on. It was one thing to get himself in shape, that would come with time. It was another thing completely to get in the ring and just be in that experience again. He had been out a long time, and with only one match under his belt since he had returned and so he needed all the practice he could get.
His legs pumping and his mind on autopilot he got to thinking about PCW. Could he go all the way in this tournament and make a showing in the finals? He'd have to get through to the semifinals first, but that was probably his best bet and so he was less worried. He had learned long ago when people started throwing words around about people they had no business with, their bark was usually worse than their bite. Besides he would get more satisfaction in wiping the floor with the creep than High Tide would get from a lifetime supply of rum. He chuckled to himself.
Thinking about High Tide put an awfully nasty idea in his head. His coffee now finished he discarded the disposable cup in a nearby waste receptacle and dug his cellphone out of his shorts. He had it up to his ear and ringing in seconds.
“Hello?” the voice at the other end of the line came in, gruff sounding.
“High Tide old buddy old pal, how're you doing? I see you've got a match this week too congrats on your victory,” Wasp spoke quickly, knowing the way to the pirate's heart was through excessive flattery and alcohol.
“We'll see if I can get through it without getting me ass kicked, yar. How do you reckon you'll fare up against Mr. Kyle “I'm The Shit” Shane?” High Tide responded and Wasp could barely suppress a laugh. Apparently he had more in common with his old partner than he had realized, even after all this time.
“Oh the match I think I will be able to handle myself. I think you've taught me a few things about fighting dirty. However, I do have a proposition for you,” Wasp replied knowing he'd perk his old partner's interest up at the word proposition.
“Oh? Tell me more,” Tide replied and Wasp grinned earnestly. He was right. He quickly laid out the plan for High Tide and he could almost HEAR the grin forming on the pirate's face. Oh yes, this sort of thing was just up High Tide's alley.
“You had me at proposition my old friend. See you at Trauma, and don't forget the rum. A deal's a deal after all,” the pirate responding laughter ringing in his voice before he hung up.
Wasp was smiling too as he hung up the phone and stuffed it back into his shorts. He switched off the treadmill and looked up at the clock, squinting once again. 2:41pm. Fuck it, he'd just wait the twenty minutes until then. He just wished he didn't have to wait to step into the ring, toe to toe with Kyle Shane and show him just exactly what a “has ran” could do.
And so here it was, the first official day of the gym's reopening and what could very well be the reopening of his career. He just needed a carpet to get there, and he was more than willing to walk all over Kyle Shane to get there. Even if he did need an extra pair of boots.