A/N: I will admit. I love this quest above all others.
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Sometimes, when you're taking a long shower or maybe when you're
just drunk enough, you start thinking thoughts that are almost deep. Thoughts about how the universe came to be, or about how cuttlefish aren't cuddly at all, or about how Eli Manning is the worst person in the history of the world. These thoughts amuse you endlessly, but everyone else seems to find them irritating as all fuck- especially when you bust out the diagrams on that last one. But nothing gets people more annoyed than when you start pontificating about the nature of charisma. You've done that one so many times that Jack can follow along with your normal rant with perfect timing, including gestures.
But you can't help it. Charisma is a weird, fickle thing.
Seriously. There's just something intangible about charisma. The most beautiful people in world can lack it. The ugliest motherfuckers you've ever seen can be the life of a party. Someone who's memorized the complete works of William Shakespeare can recite them and not draw a single reaction, while someone with the intelligence of a thimble can repeat a dirty limerick from a bathroom wall and have everyone hanging on their every word. You can't teach it. You can't train it. You either have it, or you don't.
Like, look at your friends. Most of them? Charismatic people. Kennedy can immediately become the focus of the room just by walking into it. Sure, part of that's because she's a knockout, but you're pretty sure she'd get the same reaction dressed head to toe in shapeless burlap. And her charisma is very,
very different from Omid's, which really kicks in when he starts to talk about anything. And even that's different from Jack's, which takes a little while to seep into people. That's different from Allie's, which is different from Leah's, which is different from Dane's, and so on. Each and every one of them can capture a room, but no two are charismatic in the exact same way.
And as you stand in the corner, watching Aaron 'Ghost' Verespy go to work, you get another example to use in your next drunken rant. Because watching Ghost work is
fascinating.
There's something almost uncanny in the way that Ghost gets the heat. He's not doing anything substantially different from how others work. There's the same few holds that most heels use to ground their opponents, the chinlocks, the headlocks, the armbars. But the way he puts them on is… it's like a watching a surgeon cut or a sculptor mold clay. He flows from hold to hold seamlessly and effortlessly almost without sound.
There's no taunting, like you would do if you were in his shoes right now. There's zero playing to the crowd; he doesn't even seem to be aware that there's anyone watching him right now. All of his focus is on his work and the 'pain' he's bringing to Stone Justice. And because he's so intent, the crowd is intent too. They're watching his transitions and reversals with single-minded focus.
As you watch, Ghost flips Justice over to his stomach and immediately hops on top, feet perched in the small of his back. He licks his lips as he reaches down and grabs Justice by the wrist. With slow deliberation, he pulls up, up, up, bending the arms back into a place it's not supposed to be. Justice lets out a gasp of pain and the crowd, at least 500 strong, let out a collective hiss of sympathetic pain.
Ghost doesn't let on that he's listening, but he seems to take the noise as a cue. Once Justice's arm reaches full extension Ghost moves on to the next step, interlacing his fingers with his prey's and bending them back. Justice's gasps of pain turn to full fledged cries as Ghost seems to tear his tendons apart with nothing more than strength and leverage.
Impressive. But you can't just sit back and watch him work. You've got to get over in this match too! You stretch your hand out, calling for the tag. "Ghost!" you yell. "Ghost! Lemme at em!"
It takes a few moments for Ghost to seem to register your demands, but when he does, he stops stretching out Justice's fingers and kicks him back down before walking over to you and tagging you into the match. You vault over the rope and let out a small whoop of excitement. A grin spreads over your face as you focus on Justice, who is even now trying to crawl to his corner. Ghost might be great at working people over but you can still give the people something completely different.
Which you start doing by sprinting across the ring and full speed, dropping an elbow on the back of Justice's head. "Aww, come on, bitch boy!" you mock him as you position yourself between him and his corner. "Don't run away! I just got here!"
"He's a pussy, babe!" Leah calls from the floor. She slaps the mat, offended that someone would try and run from you. "Put him down!"
"I don't know if I can!" you call back. Even as you talk, you're moving, grabbing Justice in a front facelock and muscling him down to the mat again. "He's got some fight in him! I don't know how I could
possibly end him!"
You rear back, not loosening the hold an inch, and lay in the knees. One, two knee strikes, right to the 'top of his head'. Justice flails wildly in your grip and you press down, shoving him back to earth. Another knee and his arms go limp. "Right!" you continue. "Like that! That's how I'll do it!"
...you forget this sometimes because you work face so often, but being a heel is
damn fun. Especially when Leah's with you. Having her to play off just makes the entire act click. And hearing the crowd go from mild indifference to hoping you get your brains beaten in is a great feeling. You're making them feel that way after all; what better compliment can you get for your skills?
But you've luxuriated in your heat long enough. You spin the limp body of Justice over and drop down on top of him, the back of your shoulders on his chest. It's the laziest pin you've ever put on anyone in your entire career. So it's no surprise to the crowd when Justice kicks out at two.
You sit up in shock and horror. But that turns into anger as you slowly look around, letting the fans take a close look at your face. "Alright you little pissant, if you want to play it that way…" you growl.
And then you turn around, and Justice DDT's you, burying your head in the canvas.
After that the match is pretty basic. You and Justice both crawl to your respective corners, tagging in your opponents to massive applause. Crane makes his comeback, with Ghost bumping all over the ring for him before you get back up and feed him as well. For the next two minutes, 'Stuntman' Bobby Crane is a god to these people as he lays waste to his dastardly opponents.
Until it's all over. You catch his leg when he's going for a kick and poke him in the eyes while the ref's got his hands full making sure Leah doesn't attack Justice on the floor outside. Crane spins and staggers right into the finish. The crowd pops as Ghost leaps out of nowhere and wraps his legs around Crane's neck in midair, dragging them down to the mat with a flying triangle choke.
The ref slides into position and you run, baseball sliding under the ropes to knock Justice back before he can get in the ring. Seconds later, Crane taps wildly, slapping Ghost's legs with the fervor of a man about to pass out.
*DING DING*
The announcer stands, pointing at the two of you with his notecard. "And your winners! Tommy Corsair and Aaron!
GHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOST! VER-ES-PY!"
As Ghost's music plays you roll back in the ring and pointedly step over Crane's gasping body, scraping off your boots afterwards like you've just stepped in something foul. Leah joins you a second later and, after a venomous look at your vanquished opponents, reaches over and raises your hand. "My man!" she calls. "Best in the fucking world! That's Tommy Corsair!"
You jerk your head at Ghost and Leah picks up on it. She reaches out with her free hand and grabs his wrist, pulling him over. "You're not bad either!" she yells, hoisting his arm up as well. "Not bad at all!"
***
Backstage you're met by a beaming Dane. He slaps your back with a massive, meaty paw and does the same for Ghost before reaching down and ruffling Leah's hair. "Nicely done!" he congratulates you. "That was some good work out there!"
He takes a step back and his smile looks broad enough to break his face. "Yes!" he cheers, applauding for seemingly no reason. "Yes!"
You and Leah trade a look. The match was fun, sure, but it wasn't exactly an all time great. Dane seems… a little too excited. Sure, you know he went to bat for you to get you this shot. But just not making him look bad shouldn't be a cause for all this celebration. At least Ghost seems just as confused as you are.
You think.
It's really hard to tell.
Dane doesn't waste any time in taking advantage of your confusion. He goes behind the three of you and engulfs you all in his massive wingspan, turning you towards Jones' office. "Now, go see the money man. He has an offer for you. Take it."
You look up and over your shoulder at the enormous blonde Canadian. "Right now? Shouldn't we at least shower and change first-"
"No! Now get moving!"
Which is how you find yourself back in Jones' office. The door closes behind the three of you with a very final sounding click, plunging the room around you into almost complete silence. The only noise that breaks it is the sound of fingers on a keyboard as Jones finishes typing something up. He holds up one finger as he scans a line of text on his screen. Once he's finally done looking over whatever it was he's working on, he glances up.
"Ah, yes," he says to himself. "Good to see that you've made such good time getting here. Let me be one of the first to congratulate you on your performances tonight. They were just what we were looking for."
You don't want to look a gift horse in the mouth but the praise of an okay match is not sitting well with you. "Really? I mean, thanks, but I think we can both do better."
Jones nods agreeably. "Of course you can. But you weren't supposed to have a world conquering blow away match. You were supposed to be heels and see how the crowd responded to the two of you as a duo- excuse me, Ms. Wolfe, the three of you as a unit. And you got them to hate you admirably, despite you being a babyface just last month. That is to be applauded."
Okay… that does make sense you guess. "So that was a test?"
"Indeed! And one you passed with flying colors. So now let's get down to business."
Jones leans back in his chair, hands folded over his slightly too-large gut. "I will get straight to the point, Mr. Martin, Mr. Verespy. A.D.C was founded to give the independent companies in Delaware a fighting chance against bigger shows. And so far it has done that by taking a more real-sport feeling. Every match has been in service of our overarching storyline- which is to crown the first ever All Delaware Champion. And the two of you have no role in that larger storyline."
"But soon we will be moving on from that. Our champion will be crowned, and after that we will need to move in a different direction. Still we do not have much of a role for either of you except possibly as enhancement talent. At least, as singles wrestlers."
He sits forward and looks at you both. "I'm putting together a heel stable to feature as A.D.C's first large antagonists after the tournament is over. The centerpiece will, as you've no doubt surmised by now, be Mr. Elkins."
Mr. Elkins…. Wait, that's Dane. Right. His real name.
"Mr. Elkins will be the singles star, the one competing for world championships. Around him will be another three or four active competitors. I envision a secondary singles wrestler, one who wins more than he loses but will mostly feature in the midcard, a tag team, and an enhancement wrestler who loses and serves as the group's weak point. I had people in mind for the positions, but Mr. Elkins has been very vocal in the idea that the two of you can serve the role of the tag team."
You frown in thought, glancing over at Ghost. Working with him was fine, you guess. But you didn't get into this business to be a tag team wrestler. You did it to be a singles star. And being a member of a heel stable… sure, there're a bunch of them in wrestling history that've been successful. But for every High Society that's ruled the world, there's a Vitamin D that's been confined to the dustbins of history.
Jones seems to notice your apprehension. "Roles can change as things develop, of course. But at least at first, your primary responsibility would be to serve as the group's tag team and function as heaters for Mr. Elkins. That would not change for some time, barring the unexpected of course."
"But that's enough talk about our creative direction. Let's talk figures."
In broad strokes, Jones outlines the terms of the contract- YES! FINALLY!- that he's proposing. You'll get three dates a month, one for A.D.C itself and two for some of it's subordinate promotions, for which you'll be paid a tidy sum each time. Leah gets her own offer with a little less money, but the same security.
It's by far the most lucrative contract you've been offered so far. But it has it's caveats that you're not too happy with. You won't be allowed to sell your own merchandise at A.D.C shows. Instead, the company will produce it for you and give you 25% of the take. And you'll be responsible for your own travel. No picking up anything for your travel expenses.
And it's for two years. Which is a bit unusual.
Jones nods when you raise the point of the length. "Yes, it's not standard for the industry around here, but we here at A.D.C are attempting to build something. As such we want our key talent secured."
The two of you talk for a few minutes, and then Ghost talks with him for a few longer before Leah raises a few of her own points, first and foremost among them a desire to see the actual contract before agreeing to anything, even in principle. Jones nods at that. "That makes sense. I'll make certain to have it sent to you right away. Please contact me the moment you make your decision."
And so you walk out of A.D.C without signing anything. But the offer's on the table.
You and Leah sit in silence as you start up the Monster. It lingers as you drive and deepens with every turn. It's only when you turn onto the highway heading for home that Leah speaks up.
"So, what do you think?"
Do you take the deal with A.D.C? (Schedule: 3 shows every four weeks, starting next month (3 points per show). Pay: 2 expenses per show (6 in total). Travel: your own responsibility (-1 expense per month). A.D.C will manufacture merchandise for you and pay you 25% of all proceeds for merchandise heavily featuring you, 12.5% for merchandise heavily featuring your tag team, and 5% of all proceeds heavily featuring your stable. A.D.C gains priority over your other dates. Duration: Two Years.)
[] Yes. You've been trying for so long to get into A.D.C that you're not going to risk rocking the boat now that you've finally gotten your way in.
[] It's promising, but there're several things you have a problem with. (Write in negotiations. DC varies. Failing the DC could cause the contract to be rescinded or Tommy signing for worse terms.)
[] You'll decline. Now that you've seen what you're going to be offered, you're not interested. You'll keep going it alone for now.
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Mechanics Changes
Skill Changes
Heel: Impressive 570/1500 -> Impressive 577/1500
Cocky: Average 271/500 -> Average 312/500
Selling: Elite 1575/2500 -> Elite 1622/2500
Mat Wrestling: Impressive 534/1500 -> Impressive 547/1500
Brawling: Impressive 911/1500 -> Impressive 922/1500
Showmanship: Average 340/500 -> Average 357/500