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FIW Fighting Spirit Invitational; Sign Up Here
Topic Started: Apr 22 2017, 12:50 AM (256 Views)
FIW.com
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[ *  * ]
FIW.com has learnt that in a preview of the upcoming Anarchy in the UK extravaganza, one of the matches featured in the 2016 edition will be reintroduced this coming week on ReVolt.

[align=center]MAIN EVENT
Posted Image FIGHTING SPIRIT CHAMPIONSHIP INVITATIONAL

ANARCHY RULES!!!
[size0]Hardcore Over-The-Top-Rope Elimination Battle Royal

Currenty Scheduled: Stephen J. Eversol ©, Joe Stanton, Erik Holland, Zombie Black, Caleb Claudel, Rob Garcia, Freakshow, Gustav David Richlen, Shaelin Marie Richlen, Dream, Keith Williams.
Referee: Tony Clarke[/align]
Following his intentional disqualification in the main event of ReVolt Against The Champions XXX, Stephen J. Eversol has been mandated to defend his FIW Fighting Spirit Championship in an Anarchy Rules Hardcore Over-The-Top-Rope Elimination Battle Royal.

All participants are welcome to enter this match even if already scheduled to compete.

Consider this a sign up board backstage in the SSE Arena, all you need to do is add your name to the list to granted entry.


Quote:
 
OOC: Feel free to reply with your characters name below, if you'd like to add a roleplaying spiel about them signing up, feel free to do so. Similarly if you like to post designated 'FSC' roleplays please identify as such but the match will be judged across all roleplays of participants.
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Minister Wighty
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Our camera turns as in from the hall comes running Zombie Black! Like, literally running. He looks at the nearby wall clock.

"11:58! It's not midnight yet!"

Black quickly scribbles his name down on the sign-up board before collapsing into a nearby chair, out of breath.

"I made it! I made it..."

Zombie closes his eyes and rests there for a moment, slowly regulating his breath and stretching out his burning calves.
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Willie
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[ *  *  *  * ]
"You...made it."

Oh, boy. Erik Holland's here. The former tag team partners once known as THEM!! are in the same building and same room for the first time in several years. Mr. Misery and Valiente DARK are not with him, probably because he told them to stay behind. Holland looks at Zombie huffing and puffing, and a curious grin twitches across his face, then he walks over to the sign up sheet, scribbling his name as he sends a comment backwards behind him to Zombie Black.

"In a rush?"
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Minister Wighty
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The astute viewer will note that more time has passed than just a few seconds; Zombie has had time to get up and get a Gatorade (smooth kiwi strawberry if you were wondering) and return to his seat, still exhausted.

"Gilgamesh!"

He holds the bottle up to his fair-weather friend, because the weather looks fine.

"I wanted to... sign it the same day I signed my contract."

Zombie takes a drink, keeping his throat wet.

"Two hours from Dublin to Belfast in the Winnie... left early, but I still had to cut it down. Sped a little. Ran a few red lights. Don't tell anybody."

He points between Erik Holland and the camera, and then back again.

"Ran the rest of the way. JUST made it."

He takes one more drink, oh... wait. Nope. It's empty.

"Outta Gatorade. Life is pain."

Zombie tosses the bottle in the nearby bin and slouches in his seat with a groan.
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BanalityBob
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[ *  * ]
Backstage at any FIW arena definitely needs a few ominously dark hallways. Y'know, the kinds that you can hear footsteps echoing down before you actually see the face of whoever is walking down them due to a stage hand or two making sure a few lights don't get turned on. Yeah, that kind, although the swaggering walk is pretty obvious, and when the green hair comes into view, it's more obvious that Freakshow's here to sign up.

"Gents," he says by way of greeting, passing Zombie and Holland to the sign up sheet and scrawling his name.

The reigning Scion of Sin turns to the other two entrants, crossing his arms across his chest and giving the two of them an appraising look.

"I'm sure the joke's been made before, but it smells like fighting spirit up in here."
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Mjölnir
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"Naw, that's Eversol."

The Guy in Shades emerges from the ether, because dramatic entrances are cool. He drapes an arm over Freakshow, waving the over slowly in front of them as if to reveal something to the motley crew present.

"They say you can smell the scotch and cigars for miles..."

Stanton tries arguably his best "mysterious hag" voice when he warns the lot, nodding ominously. He looks expectedly at them, gauging their reaction to his joke. Shrugging, he moves around the green haired wonder to the sign-up sheet.

"Oh well, whatever, nevermind..."

Stated cheerfully enough when he signs his name.
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BanalityBob
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[ *  * ]
Freakshow adopts his best that can't be right facial expression.

"Huh, always thought that was desperation and Kim Coulter's breastmilk."
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Mjölnir
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Joe holds up his hands in surrender with a look that reads touché.

"I say to-may-to, you say to-mah-to. Scotch, breast milk. Who can really say?"

He waves off this natural misconception.

"Just don't call the whole thing off."

Surveying the room, he smiles.

"At this rate, this could be some serious fun."
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Willie
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[ *  *  *  * ]
"Good to see ya' again, Gruesome. And the REAL you, not some kinda' Spirit Halloween carbon copy.."

Erik, after using the nickname the two hardcore chair swingin' freaks often referred to each other with sidles toward the soda machine once he signs his name and buys one more Gatorade, planting it by the sign up sheet. This time it's Gatorade FROST. Zombie will learn to live with it, I think.

"Merry Christmas. Don't say I don't do nothin' nice for you."

Too much going on for Erik to pay attention to all of it at once, so he simply offers a joke to his off and on compatriot. Stanton's here too, and he gets some acknowledgement as well, mostly for the Pier Sixer that was their Falls Count Anywhere match during ReVolt.

"Good shit out there, Joe. Sorry about the, ah, hot sauce; call that thinking on the fly. Drop the beers off at the locker room an' take half. Like usual, right?"

He has thus far ignored Freakshow, mostly because everyone else has been talking to him. But the Man with the Green Hair is gonna' get talked at too.

"What you're smelling is an ass kicking coming to Eversol of biblical proportions. Between just us in the room here, Eversol's probably gonna' claim Asian Flu or a braineurysm or anything to keep from getting in that ring. At this point.."

Holland scans the room.

"As much as I want my belt back, if someone else can take it off Eversol, if we can just guarantee he DOESN'T leave ReVolt with that championship..fuck it, I can live with that."
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Mjölnir
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He holds up a hand and waves off the notion of an apology for the hot sauce when Erik brings it up.

"Don't worry about it, reminded me of a trick I used to do in bars..."

Deciding that might not be proper conversation, he shrugs.

"Let's just say it isn't the first time it's happened. No worries on the beer either, it's already there. All of it. You earned every last bottle out there."

Stanton says with a smile, chuckling when Erik mentions the champion's reaction to the challengers he's already got to worry about. Even with the sunglasses on, it's clear he's taking another scan of the room. Appraising each of the other three men.

"Never know how it's going to shake out in an environment like the one we're walking into. Always that X factor to the whole thing. Chance. Half the thrill of it, huh?"
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Willie
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[ *  *  *  * ]
"Wouldn't have it any other way.."

Holland smiles again.

"Before that though, my Badd Breed and I have some business to take care of. Seems like the Crew is attracting more and more pustules, and their hangers on in Rob Garcia, Colin Stiles and Alistor St. Claire have the unlucky task of trying to take us out. So after we make mincemeat out of those three poor saps...maybe even retrieve the Rising strap from Mister Garcia just cuz' we don't fuckin' like him.."

Holland makes his way out of the scene.

"Then comes the real fight. Then comes finding out what all of us are still made of."

And he's gone.
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Minister Wighty
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Did Zombie doze off or just space out? Either way there's a Gatorade in his hand now, so he uncaps it and drinks it. He looks around for who might've given it to him, but it doesn't seem like anyone remaining would've. Holland's gone, though, so there's that.

" [size0]Thank you Santa Claus."

As likely an explanation as anything else. He takes another drink and nods to the new people in the room.

"You guys signed up? That's good. I'd hit you out of some recompense for my former tag-team partner, but he was a dick anyway and the company is probably better off..."

Speaking of Freakshow, of course.

"An' you an' me been teasing hitting each other for a while on Twitter, so... that'll be fun."

Speaking to Joe Stanton. He takes one more drink, smacking his lips.

"Did somebody say something about breast milk and scotch?"

Black's face screws up in contorted confusion. That doesn't sound like a very good cocktail.
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BanalityBob
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[ *  * ]
Freakshow chuckles at Zombie's pseudo threat.

"No bad blood unless you make it, bub. Now if y'all'll excuse me, I have to prep for a trios match with Mr. Breastmilk and Scotch himself before the battle royale."

With that, the Scion of Sin takes his leave with a congenial nod.
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Mjölnir
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Joe almost looks like he wants to offer his condolences to Freakshow, looking at him like a man that's about to walk death row. He nods to him and offers a wave instead.

"Good luck, make sure your team mates have their naps. They get cranky otherwise. You know how it is, terrible twos."

The departing Freakshow gets a thumbs up to show Joe's confident in his abilities to wrangle the Coulter Crew. Turning his sights on Black, he offers him a pat on the back.

"Yeah, we have! Don't take it the wrong way, I know you're spoken for, but it'll be a pleasure to get a whooping from you."

Stanton jokes, maybe revealing some kinks of his along the way. Probably not.

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Minister Wighty
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"Brother, I've never been afraid of throwin' down a beating or two. Don't matter who."

He stares off down the hall, the one Holland left down, though there's not really much of a reason for that.

"Tired of fighting myself, y'know? Might as well hit somebody else for a while."

Time for more Gatorade. Shit's getting too serious.
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Lita Maivia
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[ *  *  *  *  * ]
And that when someone puts themselves right between the seriousness that is Joe Stanton and Zombie Black. Two funny dudes that somehow are very serious in their potential to punch each other in the face. Anyway! That someone that puts themselves between them is none other than new World Tag Team Champion and newest Coulter Crew member Caleb Claudel!

The well-dressed man (seriously, is it mandatory to wear suits in the Crew?!) steps between them as if they weren't having a little chat with one another. He picks up the pen and writes his name down on the sign up sheet. Once he's already added himself, that's when he bothers to look at the names before his. He nods, expectedly.

He steps back from the sign-up sheet and it's now that he looks to Joe and then looks to Zombie.

"Gentlemen."

A nod for Zombie. A nod for Joe. Caleb continues on his way.
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Mjölnir
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The jolly mood doesn't waiver any in Joe at the prospect of a beating. If anything, he seems pleased that Zombie & he are on the same page about this business. The good times only dip when Black talks about a different kind of battle, there's a whole lot of empathy in Joe's face. Even with his eyes hidden behind sunglasses.

"I get that...a lot actually."

Nodding, Joe tries to laugh off his comment but suddenly there doesn't seem to be much air in his lungs, nor does he seem able to catch his breath much. A hint of something brooding creeping up on him.

"It can get exhausting. Though sometimes hitting somebody else can be the best therapy. Definitely better than some alternatives. MOST definitely better than the dark roads self medicating lead you."

Kinda hard to tell how much of this is Joe seeing what can happen to others, and his own experiences. The Scarlet Speedster doesn't really get to expand much though, because they get company. He gives Caleb more space to get through once he realizes he's there and he seemingly keeps his eyes glued to him.

"Champ."

Stanton offers a nod back with a friendly smile and he gets out of his way.
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Minister Wighty
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Zombie nods at Caleb as well, as the man seems to be pre-occupied with something. Black already congratulated him on Twitter, anyhow. He finishes his Gatorade and stands up, tossing it in the trash with its less Frost-y brother. His legs seem to be feeling better now

"I feel like a milkshake. Got ice cream an' a blender back in the Winnie. You game, Red?"
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JesTheBarber
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[ *  * ]
creeping up down the same hall way Freakshow already made his way out of come Rob Garcia and Jeff Noon. They're slowly making their way towards everyone as they conversate.

Jeff: Broski, this is a bad idea, Kim won't like this.. You worked really hard to get where you're at..


Rob, now in plain view of everyone, holds his hands over his mouth.

Rob: More gold, equals play play for Rob. Play, it, cooooool!

They get to the point where everyone turns and looks at them, and Rob thinking he's slick, says.

Rob: Hey guys, smells like Spirit fighting up in here, haha!

Jeff face palms himself as Rob gets the line backwards. They continue to walk past every one. Then Rob stops in front of the sign up sheet and Jeff turns his back to Rob.

Rob: HA ACHO! ACHO!

Rob is... sneezing? While Jeff Noon tries to block everyone from seeing what Robs doing..... Rob continues to "sneeze" but he picks up the pen quickly and signs his signature. As everyone stares, Jeffs puts his hand on his forehead, he looks like he's about to have a panic attack. He then weakly lets out the words.

Jeff: Hey.. bro. You okay?

Rob quickly turns around and starts walking away from Jeff.

Rob: YEP!!!! Catering, lets go!

Jeff Noon quickly follows behind Rob. As he catches up to Rob, they start laughing and then high five. They look back at everyone who are all still staring at them and then run away laughing, assuming they got away clean.
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Mjölnir
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Even with sunglasses on, it's clear the way Joe's eyes are growing wide and lighting up at the talk of icy cold beverages. His eyebrows raising up and over his sunglasses and a big grin overtaking his face.

"Milkshakes? Freakin' sweet! You're singing my song, Black..."

Joe gets so far as slapping Zombie on the back before the arrival of Jeff Noon and Rob Garcia. Immediately his attention is drawn to the Rising Champion's...devious plot, and watching it unfold in front of him. Making a face similar to the one most made when Mae Young did the thing at the Royal Rumble in 2000.

"... [size0]'The hell..."

Half mumbling to himself, half whispering to Zombie, he gestures at the departing Rob. His brow furrows and he stares after Rob, as if further needing to assess him. He even frowns a little.

"What an ass clown."

Laughing, Joe looks back at Zombie and shakes his head at what they just saw. The two presumably heading out to the Winnie to make some shakes.
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ratedgdr
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[ *  *  * ]
*It's probably a good thing that Claudel and Garcia are gone, because one or both of the Alpha Wolves would have tried to attack them on the spot. Thankfully, they're not there, so Dr. Audrey Higgins (who remains an unofficial member of the Wolves, mostly because anime (and hentai) characters don't count as picbases) doesn't have to try to restrain them. Considering she's 6'2", it would seem to not be difficult, but this is the Wolves we're talking about.

Anyway, she continues what she was apparently saying before the trio walked into the room.*

"Look, it's fine if you want to express confidence in your abilities but perhaps going into the realms of dismemberment and exsanguination is going too far."

Not if I'm trying to get my point across.

"Look at how Johnny and Dream-"

That's them, not me.

"I'm just saying, it'd be a lot more fearsome if you did more Theodore Roosevelt and less Nikita Khrushchev."

*Shaelin facepalms. Mostly because the odds of her husband following that advice are in negative territory.

And that is when she grabs the pen and writes her name down.

This prompts Richlen to stare at her in shock.*

Are you going to just stand there like an idiot or are you going to try to get #3?

*Richlen's face pretty much gives away the fact that he really does not like the prospect of facing his wife in the match, but he takes up the pen and adds himself to the list as Audrey decides to get the hell out of there before anything happens.*
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WE GLADLY FEAST UPON THOSE WHO WOULD SUBDUE US.
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Hayden
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[ *  * ]
The umistakeable whistle from The Andy Griffith show draws some attention as our loveable rogue The Dream shows up, popcorn in hand. Dream pops one into his mouth before looking around, noting the faces in the crowd. By coincidence, he's either teamed with them or said nice things about them.

"Did I miss the party?"

Of course he's serious about this.
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Mjölnir
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The departing Joe Stanton & Zombie Black manage to stay out of the way of Gus Richlen & co., though it keeps them long enough to see The Dream arrive! Naturally the Scarlet Speedster looks between Dream and Zombie, as if silently asking Zombie something. His grin widens even further and with his free hand he slaps Dream on the back.

"'Sure Black's Winnie has room for one more!"

He says cheerfully, letting the trio take their exit to their milkshake nirvana.
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Kyle
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After the freaks and geeks have done their song and dance, who should show up? Kay effin' Dubya. Keith Williams for those unsure of what that just meant. He strolls up as smooth as silk, dressed in silk, actually. Sunglasses covering his baby blues and a smile seemingly present on his face.

He looks over the sign up sheet, taking note of some of the names that have already signed their John Hancock to paper. Keith removes a pen from the pocket of his slacks, apparently having one on hand and ready.

Keith Williams: "I can't wait to uppercut Stephen's face off."

Click. click. That's the pen. The Carolina Gentleman adds his name to the list, signing under the last person to leave their name. Happy with the penmanship, Williams steps back and proceeds to walk away, uttering this last bit.

Keith Williams: "Let's see who exactly has the most fighting spirit."

That's it. You're free to wander off now from your screen similar to how the former Dual Crown Champion just did.
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