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Senshi

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Feb 24 2018, 03:14 PM


Wrestler Real Name: Aislin Fionn
Wrestler In Ring Name:Ash Fi
Nickname (If Applicable):
Height (meters):1.7
Weight (kilograms):64
Alignment: Face
Hometown/Billed From: Swansea, Wales
Gimmick: Woman Warrior
Pic Base:Isla Dawn
Ring Attire: Most often wears a top and trunks bearing either the Irish tricolor or the flag of Wales.
Upon her shins are blue kick pads with a logo of a swan on the knees, the away colors of her hometown football team
Twitter:@aislinfionn

Wrestling Style:Submission/Brawler
Strengths (3):
Deceptive Strength
Kick Surgeon
Submission Specialist

Weaknesses (3):
Green
Aerial Novice
Over Zealous

Finishers (Max 2):
Cwlwm (Bridging Inverted Deathlock)
Gáe Bulg (Nomisugi Knee)

Signature Moves (Max 2):
Crann Tabhaill (Springboard Corkscrew Roundhouse kick)
Warp Spasm (Over Shoulder Back Kick)

Well-practiced Moves (Max 10):
1. Hiptoss Backbreaker
2. Rolling Guillotine Choke Armbar
3. Inverted Headlock Backbreaker
4. Basement Calf Kick
5. Arm Drag Takedown
6. Knee Lift
7. Ripcord Short Arm Lariat
8. Knife Edge Chop
9. Running Crossbody to seated opponent
10. Bicycle Shoot Kick

Entrance Theme: “Beyond the Ninth Wave” Waylander

Character Background:Aislin is the daughter of an Irish amateur football player and an American professional wrestler. So it seemed a career in athletics was her destiny. Which was something she pursued rather early in life. Her focus on sports intensified when her parents divorced when she was ten. Outside of televised matches, she never saw her father again. Aislin and her mother soon moved to Wales. She was quick to find a group to play football and rugby with all to take her mind off her family life. But as school ended, Aislin began to show interest in professional wrestling, much to the displeasure of her mother. While not actively seeking out her father, it seems she wants to find what was so great about the sport that caused her father to choose a career in it over family. She started her journey in the developmental promotion SCCW. As a year of her tenure in the company came closer, she began to seek branching out.
May 23 2017, 01:25 AM

Wrestler Real Name: Derrick Figgins
Wrestler In Ring Name: Derrick Daze
Nickname (If Applicable):
Height (meters): 1.7m
Weight (kilograms):81.6 kg
Alignment: heel
Hometown/Billed From: Kansas City, Mo
Gimmick: creepy little bastard
Pic Base: jimmy havoc
Ring Attire: Black trunks and knee high boots, taped wrists
Twitter: @dazingderrick

Wrestling Style: Methodical submission
Strengths (3):
World traveled veteran: He has over twelve years of wrestling experience and has experienced several different styles
Surgical precision: every strike, every hold has a purpose. He takes great pains to never waste motion
Psychological: He often reads his opponents in silence. From speech patterns to body language


Weaknesses (3):
Hubris: Often times gets too confident in the information he collected.
Temper: A man known for taking his rage too far. could lead to a disqualification or leaving himself wide open
Too methodical: Sometimes he allows himself no room to improvise

Finishers (Max 2):
The voyage: A swinging variation of the unprettier
Collapse Generation: Flying omoplata
Signature Moves (Max 2):
Dissection: when opponent is draped across the second rope, Derrick takes a leaping stomp aimed at the shoulder
The fall: Running crane kick
Well-practiced Moves (Max 10):
Judo throw
rolling arm bar
throat chop
openhanded uppercut
grounded chickenwing
rear chinlock
leg kicks
heel lock
kneebar
wristlock


Entrance Theme: “Hybris” Lamented souls

Character Background: Expectations are low when a small man is born into wrestling family with old school views. They expected Derrick to be obscure while his cousin Jacob Figgins had all the affection and training poured over him. He wasn’t going to stand for it. His slight size earned him the attention of bullies. He did not stand for it. One incident of bullying was all he allowed himself to suffer before enrolling in martial arts classes and pouring into books about the human body. His intent was simple. Learning how to shut down any opposition no matter the size. Safe to say the bullying incidents quickly ceased. By the time he was fourteen he was active in martial arts, becoming victor in several judo and jujitsu tournaments. By sixteen he dropped out of school, figuring a library card served as a more efficient way of learning. He began wrestling in several small companies, learning the craft. He wasn’t a blip on the radar screen until he scraped together enough to go to japan and trained under Karisuma II. He impressed the masked wrestler so much that Derrick soon became the third Karisuma. But he had no intention of sharing spotlight. He lashed out at his mentor with intent to disfigure, earning him a ban from several japanese promotions.

Next stop was mexico to further learn his craft. His backstage attitude made his stay in those companies very short. He returned to the states when a contract offer from coast to coast wrestling came to him. The company, had no intention of utilizing him properly. His cousin was there prior and left a sour taste for all. Derrick tried his best to play by the rules and not make waves. Until an unfortunate soul named Michael York decided to call him by his cousin's name. He swiftly made York regret the mistake. He stole the self made title that York paraded around. And much to the chagrin of CTC he drew attention to himself. He even beat a company legend. He was rising to stardom despite what the higher ups tried. Before he could explode, however the company folded. He found himself wandering indy scene to indy scene, companys quickly folding.

It seemed he had nowhere to go until he got signed to Rebel pro. A well read man among a sea of red necks quickly made him one of the most hated. But his body of work always kept him in the top matches. Unfortunately his anger lead him to substance abuse which lead to him being ejected from the company. He seemingly vanished for three years until he got picked up by BWF. He quickly gained the tag team titles with a revolving door of tag team partners. Of course, the inability to keep a steady partner lead to him losing the titles. He became a singles talent until their development territory opened its doors and he became one of the trainers.

He made several appearances through promotions as a manager. Often being the mastermind in factions with convoluted plots. His sense of detachment and analytical nature, simply makes him view others as game pieces for his next grand scheme. His elegant and condescending style of talking made it clear to everyone that he views them as something lesser. Any bonds he did make, he made it known they were being used





Feb 19 2017, 03:21 PM
Momo was defeated. After pulling out all the stops, she made a giant thought un-movable bleed. The fans went from despising her to chanting her name, pressing her further and further foreword.After so many times of being knocked down, her limbs like lead, head swimming in molasses the deafening chant reinvigorate her. She encountered a miraculous transformation in the course of one match, much like in those cartoons she watched growing up. She still didn’t win. Her first taste of defeat and it was crippling. But the worst part of the night was to come later. Intolerant of her failure, her twin brother , he head body guard, her tag team partner betrayed her. On live television, in front of thousands her brother laid her out. It was Nathan propaganda, the anti social grumpy man who came down to end the madness. But much like Momo, he was laid out by his own sibling. IT was betrayal and public humiliation that strengthened the bond of opposites.

Momo’s bold entrance into the sport of wrestling, Nathan’s grand return, both were marred by that event from last summer. Both, for a while, wondered if their simultaneous entry was such a great idea. The heiress, hid from the world, much like the man who served as her body guard. Nathan wanted solitude, but his sense of duty kept him close to Momo. Even when they both thought they got over the betrayal . They went to Australia to once more try their hand. No banners, no grand standing an unpretentious return to wrestling.

They put on their faces for the camera. But as the weeks wore one, doubt once more reared it’s ugly head on the duo, Today, like many others, they found themselves sitting across from eachother. Momo with her tall glass of bubble tea, Nate with his cup of Sencha mint.

Momo: Still having that string of bad luck, huh?

NAthan cringed. setting down his tea cup. Trying to maintain a calm exterior, but the cups clatter gave away what simmered underneath.

Nathan: I dont get it. I bounced back from what I was before. I’m stronger than I was before, faster than I was before, even learned a few fancy kicks. Yet whether it is the other place, or IYHWF I cant bring it all together. Still stuck on tag Duty?

Momo: Yeah. I guess it is a great way to meet people...if I bothered. I mean..I should talk to this Nagasaki-san, but I don’t know. He could be my enemy the next day. But about your...losing. Maybe you should stop trying to be propaganda san.

Nathan: It’s hard. I know I’m not that guy anymore. I’ve learned since then, I ‘ve wizened since then. But when that camera comes on...it’s like a worn pair of jeans. IT should be thrown away, it’s full of holes, but dammit it’s comfortable. He was a guy that demanded attention from day one. No one sat of the fence about him. They either thought he was the hottest thing to hit that company or he was someone to be loathed.

Momo zoned out, drinking at her bubble tea.

Momo: No you’re just world’s biggest tsundere! So I heard you were tagging too.

Nathan: Yeah...Connie...something. I’m not big on meeting new people. And I’m not a soon dare...whatever. Any way. I got a match, it might be a tag but I need to bounce back.

Momo chuckled. A knowing smirk.

Momo: I saw you, you seem interested in meeting Blyss-chan

Nathan rose to his feet sucking down the rest of the minty green stuff scraping the leaves from his teeth.

Nathan: I’m hitting the gym. Be back in a few

The tone implied something not so casual. The name Blyss seemed to trigger something. Was he sad? Angry? Momo mulled it over in her head, chewing a tapioca bead from her tea.

Feb 5 2017, 12:54 PM
“I don't do subtlety”

“In this type of match ,sure ,hanging back would would probably be the best strategy. But I was never that type of guy. Nah, I'd rather just blast every mother fucker in the head with a forearm. Sitting back. Waiting for my moment? No. I'm not the guy to do that. I have always been the guy to make my moment. Being passive is not my nature. Some might say that is a detriment.”

“There I introduced myself. Nate Gloria. I may use different name since last time you saw me. I might look a little different since the last time you saw me. Hell, some of you fucks might have never seen me in the first place. But down to my very core I haven't really changed.”

“Has Gordon Fury changed? Last I remember he was a dumb mouthy shit. Given our interactions he would probably say the same for me. I never hated the dude. But during that time and a place. We didn't mesh. But surprisingly enough. After all the words we exchanged. We never had a match yet. I had conflicts with him from the get-go. I'm glad we finally get to resolve a few things. Even if there's another body involved. But back to the question at hand. Has Gordon Fury changed? I sure as fuck hope not. Even though our personalities clash in the very beginning. I still can't help but respect him. He was determined he knew he wanted. He was the man to beat. Facing him in the ring now? Might not be as important as it was back then. Still, it was on a personal list of mine. “

“I didn't forget about you, Joey. Another case of a guy being in the same place at the same time. I didn't face him either. Unlike Gordon, Joey was never on my radar to begin with. But I don't think any less of him. He is aggressive. He makes jokes that only he finds funny. But the great part is he really doesn't give a damn. I wish I had an encyclopedic knowledge of them. But I don't and I won't pretend to. I won't sneak a victory. I won't be the type to watch tapes dating back to your very first match. I won't sit and rack my brain over what moves to make. Think of it like a game of chess. Where I flip the god damn board over and shove the bishop down your fucking throat. So your worries are eased. You can pay attention to Gordon. He's the guy, he's the one to pin to make a name for yourself. But if you are in my space, I'm gonna drop you on your neck. “

“Not too happy about my last match. Of course who would be happy about a loss? But it was needed. It was needed to show me right where i stood. I've been too comfortable the past few years. I need a little chaos in my environment. A little chaos to get that hair standing on end. A little chaos to get that adrenaline pumping. A little chaos to make me feel at home. This match. Will. Be. Chaos.”

“My only plan. Is to stand above it all when the dust settles. So I can say. God damn it's great to be back.”
Jan 16 2017, 02:10 AM
To think. I was once at the top of the world. In 2012 I crawled out of a bed for the first time in several years. I felt pain in places I thought would no longer receive sensation of any type. I’m a man of conviction. Once I wanted something, I would push myself to the grave in order to obtain it. But I never thought it would blow up this fast. I was swinging trashcans in some hole in the wall company one moment, the next, I was the talk of the town for some internationally televised juggernaut. But like that weirdly named fuck in a toga, I flew a little bit too close to the sun. I fell flat on my ass covered in hot wax and shit. That same company I was swinging trashcans for, I started scouting talent for. I guess I should be thankful for my lot in life. Though the glory was short and I crashed hard, people in my situation normally could only dream of such things. From stealing to eat, to having more money than I know what the hell to do with.


Knowing my dumbass, I had to find an excuse to be angry. Sure, I had a secure job, I was never away from professional wrestling. Infact, I was traveling all over and watching more than I ever had an opportunity to when I was in the ring. But I wasn’t in the ring. I wasn’t dropping people on their domes. Once more I felt like a god damned alien in my own skin. But what could I do? I wasn’t great with all that medical mumbo jumbo. But it sounded like the doctor man said my heart might explode if I tried to take up a profession that involved beating the shit out of people again. It sounds like a bunch of bull shit. But hey, the dude spent way too much time in school for that shit. I guess I was a rather grim motherfucker to hangout with. And I guess the fellows at Foundation of Underground Carnage (Or FUC Wrestling) were noticing. I show up at Hq only to receive a memo. I was supposed to scout some prospect from Japan for a possible one off match. The prince of Deathmatches ,Yakamura Kenzo. IT wouldn’t be too abnormal, I traveled internationally before to scout. But there was one detail that bugged the fuck out of me

“Why the fuck am I assigned to be out for a month? “

The rat faced dingus known as Kaz Dvorak, the owner of the establishment, really didn’t have much of a backbone. Which I always found weird for a guy who constantly deals with type A personalities.

“Listen, everyone is on edge around you. I mean, your past isn’t unknown. They’re afraid you’re gonna bash someone’s head in at any moment. So, Scope out Yakamura, if you can get a deal, good. If not, we got plenty of options. Take the rest of the time to chill. Drink some tea, learn kungfu, whatever you need to do to chill out....I mean, if that’s cool with you”

I almost felt a tinge of respect for the guy. He actually put some damn bass in his voice. And it it least seemed to be out of concern for his employees. But then he had to end it with such a weak statement. Sure, if he tried to tell me what to do, I’d tell him to fuck off. But, it’s important that a boss acts like a boss every once and awhile. Yes, A delightful trait of Nathan Propaganda. Lack conviction and I will terrorize you until you gain some. Show a tiny iota of it and I tell you to fuck off. I guess I always had trouble with being satisfied with anything.

“Yeah, whatever. Maybe I’ll take Yakamura and make my own company while I’m over there”

Kaz, for five seconds had a glint of anger in his eyes. Before it seems to fizzle at the idea of having active competition. Of course, being a boss would mean having to deal with multiple people’s bullshit. Every time something went wrong, someone would be all over me asking me to fix it. Kaz knew that. But for some reason he was rather easy to fuck with.

---


I got bored within a week of this assignment. Sure, I got to watch the shows where Kenzo worked. They were bloody and exciting. The dude’s talent transcended the company I worked for. Needless to say, he would certainly make DVD sales sky rocket if he did do a match. But I was in no hurry to approach him. Sure, I normally got the job done as soon as possible. But with how much time I had, I’d go a bit crazy if I didn’t have something to do. Instead I found myself frequenting this little tea house. Sure it tasted like boiled grass, but something about it did take the edge off. IT was quiet, and a rather nice place to people watch. I usually seated myself at the counter. great place to watch all the people in the booths. Couples, some man who takes his work with him. but one seemed to catch my eye more than others. A girl who usually had her hair of multitude of colors. Her clothes were just as colorful. IF that wasn’t enough, she seemed to be constantly flanked by two grim faced dudes in suits. Like she was the president’s daughter or some shit.

What was odd about that night is that she was alone this time. Drinking some monstrosity that looked like a mix of tea and milkshake. before her a platter of pastel colored round things. They all had smiling faces upon them. Whatever she was doing, I decided to turn away, Judging from earlier sightings, she had trouble finding time to herself. I didn’t want to ruin the moment for her. Just as I was about to head out I heard a voice.

“Troll-hair san!

Troll-hair san?

I looked about for anyone that could possibly fit that description. Nothing. I was beginning to ponder if she was on some bluetooth device until I saw my reflection. Yeah, my hair is often a little unwieldy and might look like a troll doll’s. But did that really have to be her go to ? If I wasn’t startled by the name, I would have already yelled at the person for bothering me.. Yelling at strangers is a big part of my daily routine.

“You. Come here. You’re alone all the time. What’s the use of traveling if you’re trying to be alone all the time?”

Ok, I couldn’t yell at her. She was trying to be nice. In an aggressive fashion, but she’s still trying to be nice. I went over to where she was seated. I loosed a great grumble to express by unwillingness, but still wanted to oblige the kindness. She only had the slightest accent when she spoke english, maybe she was used to travelling quite often as well.

“I’m Momo. I think I seen you somewhere. I think you were on T.V. once. Oh, come sit. Have a Mochi ice cream”

I fucking hate ice cream. I don’t care to repeat it. This statement usually leads to others saying I have no soul. I can’t possibly be human. But I never liked overly sweet things. I hate soda, pie, cake. All of it. Strap in I never said I was a fun guy to be around Of course, while I sat there mulling over how much I hate the stuff, I didn't realize it was right in my face on the end of a chopstick. On the other end of the stick was a saucer eyed girl just begging me to try the snack.

I was ready to knock it away. But a memory came back to me. Not one of the bad ones, for once. One I held deep in my heart. One of the few golden droplets of optimism in my black sea of nihilism.

My sister missed out on a field trip, money was hard to come by. Doubly so for extra things such as that. Beside letting her wallow in the disappointment of missing out, I stole a pint of ice cream. Black walnut, her favorite. While she probably didn't forget, it certainly seemed to take her mind off it. I was content to bugger off and let her eat by herself. But then I found a spoonful in my face. On the other end, my sister with saucer eyes. When one of the two people you care about are sharing their feel better ice cream. I don't care how much you hate it. You suck it down with a gods be damned smile on your face.

The sudden and disarming occurrence of this memory caused me to give in to Momo’s demand. It was disgusting. Ice cream wrapped in some gummy, doughy shit. And was the ice cream green tea flavored? The fuck is wrong with these people? After managing to suck down that abomination, I gave a thumbs up.

I hate mochi ice cream.

In the cloud of hating this shit and seeing the size of the platter. I asked a stupid question.

“ Did you plan on eating all of that.”

I received a cold gaze that I thought the girl incapable of making.

“ There was a friend of mine I used to eat this with every summer. She was probably the first friend I made out of few. We lived in different prefects, so we wrote write letters the rest of the year. One day, the letters stopped. And I was left alone with my platter of mochi. I waited...from the minute this shop opened to the moment this shop closed. Every year I came and waited. Never a single word from her. I'm tired of waiting”

...That is fucking stupid. Maybe just from my standpoint. I'm used to broken promises and disappointment. I wouldn't be caught waiting like that damn dog on Futurama.

“Don't wait for her then. Find her ass and let her know you're tired of waiting. Never let your life be held up for someone else”

In the back of my mind, I thought the worst. This person could be long dead. Either way, Momo needed to find her and move on.

“Propaganda-san!”

I guess picking up a harsh tone helped jar her memory. She wasn't the type I'd peg as a wrestling fan from first glance.

“ Why are you here instead of in the ring? Also...do you know Jiang Shi? I always toyed with the idea of becoming a wrestler. Finding my friend and defeating her. Give her a bruise for every year she abandoned me”

I kind of like it better when I vanished. No one to ask the question I hate explaining.

“Doctors say I can't do it any more, ok? And I'd like that this would be as far as it goes. As for the other part, do it or think about something else.”

She didn't talk for several moments. I was never one to mince words.

“ Then find a better doctor”

She stated. For a moment I swore I heard her trying to emulate the tone I just used. She reached into her sequined jacket and produced a piece of paper. A ticket.

“You should come. Good concert”

I took it and looked it over. Why the he'll would I go to a concert where I couldn't understand what they were singing? Before I could give an answer she was up and leaving.

“Momo!”

It did not come from me. It came from one of those suited dudes. A stout Japanese dude with a no nonsense scowl and his best grumbly samurai voice. Apparently she was out past curfew. I sighed and left soon after there was no reason to stick around. A solitary blob of mochi ice cream sat on the platter. It shared a trait with the two who sat over it just earlier. It just experienced a bond of comradery so fleeting it didn't even notice. And now, it is alone.


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