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Jake Starr vs. Christian Savior
Topic Started: Mar 11 2010, 12:19 PM (197 Views)
Kassie Khane
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Jake Starr vs. Christian Savior

Deadline: Noon EST Tuesday, March 16, 2010
RP Limit: 2 RP per person, per match
~~Good Luck to Everyone!~~
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Jake Starr
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Official SCW Social Misfit & Apparent Telemarketer
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Here We Go AGAIN - SCW RP #67
Opponent: Christian Savior
Date: 03.12.10
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Christian Savior
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Project Fragment: Chapter 2 – Starr-Crossed – Part 1: With New Wings…


With the present time throwing narrations the lengths of an encyclopedia, rehashing us with repeated facts of history that are more than engrained in our minds, it is no wonder that the two superstars Christian Savior and Jake Starr are riddled with long winded speeches, with Starr now taking the lead in endless ramblings. Far different are these times than when the sands blew across the lands, and words were spoken in blood and the sword…


Zerok: This is absurd!

Cherrios: Agreed!

The room, covered with gold coins, statues and other objects that would reflect the sunlight, were it shining in the night sky, was the ideal pacing room for the leader of the Sheut. His feet walking silently across the stone floors, the pharaoh’s mind was far from easy.

Zerok: Two years and close to one-hundred and fifty sightings of him. And what exactly has the supposed grand guards I have done?


Reaching a small, emerald green vase, the leader is not hesitant to send it flying across the room, shattering as it reaches the spot on the floor near the captain of the guard’s feet.

Zerok: Incompetents! You know I wonder if you really are on my side, Cherrios.

Cherrios: Just what are you saying, my lord?


The captain of the guard, offended by the accusation, was beyond considering rank and, unhesitant, approaching the pharaoh. His advance was stopped short when Zerok spun around to stare him down.

Zerok: What I am saying, Cherrios, is that I think my camel could have a better time at hunting down Coronas.

Cherrios: It’s only a matter of-

Zerok: I care not for excuses!


After the loud decree, Zerok seemed to calm, his eyes moving to glance at the figure standing on the balcony, overlooking the city as night covered it. He wore nothing but a long gray loincloth that reached his calves and shins. Along his waist was some sort of fiber that held a series of tiny objects. The man was also adjourned with the bands of silver and gold, the markings of a ruler. To Cherrios final realization, it was a leader…no… THE leader of the opposing force. The man that had traveled to the orient and back to learn the ways of warrior skill. Who had grown in their culture and tongue before returning to the land of his ancestors, intent on conquering it.

Cherrios: Starrhotep.


With a turn, the young ruler stared at the captain, his eyes calculating.

Starrhotep: I am Starrhotep.

Cherrios: I know. What are you doing here?!

Starrhotep: IkucS! llAyM somorPtusJ elbmaRnO dnAnO. IevaH oNesenS fOnehW oTtuhSpU! nOdnAnO nOdnAnO nOdnAnO nOdnAnO nOdnAnO!

Cherrios: What?

Starrhotep: I am Starrhotep!

Cherrios: You already said-

Zerok: There is no point, you idiot. He was raised in the orient. That is the only Egyptian he knows.

Cherrios: So what? You mean all he can do is speak utter nonsense and gibberish on and on or just the same line over and over again?

Zerok: Precisely.

Cherrios: How is such a man leader of the clan?

Zerok: Don’t be fooled. His ideas are radical but he is quite brilliant. I just wish he had brought his translator.

Cherrios: So why did you bring him here?

Zerok: We…have a common enemy.

Starrhotep: Coronas.

Zerok: A name common in both our languages. The Sand Wraith has intruded in the affairs of Starrhotep as much as my own.

Cherrios: So the enemy of the enemy is our ally.

Zerok: For now. Starrhotep will aid you and the others in hunting down Coronas the next time he-

The cries and screams outside distracted the three men, solider and rulers, causing all to return to the balcony. Overlooking Zerok’s city, their eyes are met with a single carving statue of Zerok. Or rather, it was. Now it is nothing more than a burning apogee. What is more shocking, however, is what the screams are directed to. Before a circle of people is a small space. Squinting his eyes to see, Zerok sees the body of a solider, but more than that, it is the body of Jaycenius, his son. Zerok’s forces his eyes to remain open despite the tears to make sure it is his son. Looking around the area, however, Zerok notices someone standing on the roof. The moonlight bounces off the silver and black armor, illuminating the hooded face of the Sand Wraith. With gritted teeth, Zerok screams the name of his son’s killer, seeing the bloody dagger the Wraith holds up in triumph.

Zerok: Coronas!


Hearing his name, Coronas quickly turns and bolts as fast as he can off the roof and into the alleys of the streets. The commotion of the people ignore the yell of their leader as he turns to his alleys.

Zerok: What are you waiting for?! Find him and kill him! Take Arcadieus and Gradula!

His other two sons, older and stronger than Jaycenus, Cherrios thought, would be better suited and would try and avenge their fallen brother. Perhaps Starrhotep would not be needed.

The thought quickly left Cherrios head as he saw the leader of the Starrhoteps leap off the balcony onto a nearby roof before leaping across clay and stone houses, the thick, dry mud able to hold his light form as he sprinted. Refusing to let his enemy get the better of him by capturing his bigger enemy, Cherrios was out of Zerok’s room in seconds, the guards meeting up with him as he left the building. It was time for the hunt!
*********************************************************************


My lungs burned as they tried to give oxygen to my quaking muscles. I had to keep running though. I had seen his faces, though they had not seen me. Starrhotep… So Zerok had grown so desperate that he had temporarily united with his enemy to try and capture me. Emphasis on TRY. He hadn’t succeeded yet. As I rounded a corner, I came face to face with a man in red and white, holding a spear.

Guard: Hey!


Poor choice of last words, I thought, as I quickly pulled out a small blade, covering his mouth with one hand and plunging the blade into his stomach. His whole body shook as life ebbed and oozed from him. The blade was laced with the poison of several scorpions. He would be dead in minutes, if not by the blood loss, than the poison would stop his heart. Slowly, I lowered him to the ground. I almost looked away at his pained eyes, but I couldn’t. It would be disrespectful and this man did not deserve that for showing loyalty, even if it was to the wrong side.

Coronas: Forgive me. May you rest with the gods.


Quickly, I leapt up and onto a nearby wooden pillar. Pulling myself, I perched in the shadows as I watched several guards run into the alley. Spotting their fallen comrade, they quickly left the alley, trying to find the hidden assailant, unaware that he remain perched above them. I smiled beneath the cloth. It never surprised me how easy the sheep could be manipulated into thinking anything.

With the guards gone and hopelessly lost, I slowly leaped up once more and onto the roof. Reaching the roof with one strong pull from both hands, I remained low on the surface of the roof. For once, I was grateful for the fools that-

SNIKT!

I was suddenly thrown back as the impact of the thrown object bounced off my left shoulder plate of armor, bouncing off it but leaving a scratch. I landed on my back and looked up to see a figure falling towards me. He had anticipated my fall and was leaping, blade in hand to finish the job. His blade, made of what appeared to be common metals found in Egypt shone in the light, a contrast to my sword, which I quickly pulled out to block the attack as he landed on the ground. My attacker’s eyes seemed to open widely at the sight of the pure black blade of obsidian. By his reaction, he had then heard the legend of the Night’s Bloodstone. Catching his slight shock off quickly, I managed to kick out with both feet, sending him stumbling back down the roof and allowing me time to get to my feet. As the moon shone off him, I recognized him.

Coronas: Starrhotep, I presume.

Starrhotep: Coronas.

Coronas: The assassin from the orient turned leader of a third of Egypt. Tell me, when did you sacrifice honor and name to align yourself with Zerok? I didn’t think you were in league with the likes of him

Starrhotep: IekiL gnitaepeRflesyM! IekiL gniviGtuO yrevEtcaF oSIteG-

Coronas: With the oriental tongue to boot.

Starrhotep: I AM STARRHOTEP!

Coronas: Hi! I’m Coronas.

Starrhotep: yhWtnaCI revEtramstuO ouY!

Coronas: I’m guessing you’re telling me I will never leave Akehetaten alive, right?


His answer with a war-cry that would have pierced the night sky in two before suddenly throwing two metal prongs at me, the sharp tips seemingly aimed for my arms and legs. With a roll, I was out of harm’s way for about two seconds, having to quickly draw my blade up to block his blade with my own. The black and silver of our blades then engaged in a dance the likes of which no man or woman would see, as the burning statue and now two dead bodies would be taking up their attention. I felt the light bounce of my silver half-mask as the reflected light illuminated parts of Starrhotep as he danced. With linguistically hard to remain interested in without his translator, he was formidable, and after a few moments of blocking and dodging, I had come to a clear and terrifying resolution.

I could not beat him.

Not like this. He had his people still behind him. Some had grown aware of me and had started standing up for themselves, or entertained the thoughts of such. Still, many were behind Starrhotep and it was that belief that kept him strong and focused. Mentally, he was better at the moment. His belief that all were behind him was his strength now, as I dodged another slashed to block a second spin. His momentum may have been the only strength he had, but for now, it was enough for me not to be able to kill him. I needed to escape.

With the decision, I watched Starrhotep go for one slash before blocking it, sending it to the ground and him with it. With a leap over his falling form, I quickly saw him roll off the roof, grabbing it with his free hand to keep from falling in a fatal style. He looked up at me as I stood at the edge. The fall wouldn’t kill him, but I was certain he knew that. With a tilt of my head, I slowly addressed him.

Coronas: Perhaps we can finish this at another time. Meantime, give a message to Zerok.

His arm was a blur as he tossed one last metal shard-star at me. I did not flinch as I felt the metal bite into the flesh of my arm, between the shoulder and forearm. The pain was instant but luckily, he did not have an poison in the weapon, though it hurt like Amman Ra! Pulling it out, I gripped the shard angrily before placing my obsidian blade back into its sheath which rested on my back.

Coronas: Just for that, you can BE my message to Zerok.

Without thinking twice, my foot was suddenly brought down hard on Starrhotep’s fingers. He yelled in pain before letting go and falling down the side of the small house, landing on his legs before the momentum carried him roll-style onto his back. He was out like the sun at night. The guards would find him eventually. Not wishing to waste any time, my body ignored the pain, banishing it to a far part in my mind as I stole across roofs. I ran for what felt like forever, until the battle area and Zerok’s palace were distance glimpses from the eye. With one last jump, my feet landed on the familiar roof which held a small simple in the clay. It was that of the crow, with a scorpion in his talons. It was small, and would have been ignored by any passerby, but it was my beacon home. No… my true home was in the Sahara Oasis, but I needed a place in the capital of corruption to hide and arise fast. My true home would be my sanctuary if it ever came to that. Mine and Rosetta.


Quickly, I kept to the shadows as I reached the window on the roof. It was always open slightly. Smiling under the mask, I pulled open the pieced of wood and silently threw myself into the space.
**************************************************************

Rosetta opened her eyes as the moonlight streamed in. For the briefest of seconds, her spine stiffened, instinctively reaching onto her wooden table by her bed to grab her dagger. Her fingers at barely graced the hilt of her weapon when she saw the silver and black flash land silently into the room. Quickly, he closed the window, leaving the candle as the only source of illumination of the room. Slowly, Rosetta relaxed as she saw the man in armor known as Coronas. At least, known as that to everyone but her. Slowly, she watched him stretch his arms and legs before turning to her as she sat up. She kept her blanket held against her naked form.

She was always modest and self-conscious with the Sand Wraith. In her mind, the man in armor and the man in the mask were one and the same, but she still could not remove her modesty until she saw his face. Still, she loved them both. Coronas and the man behind his face. As the armored assassin sat on the bed beside her and did not speak, she looked at him as the light bounced of his silver face. With a smile, she ran a hand along the black cloth that covered the lower part of his face, feeling the strong jaw as it tightened to smile.

Rosetta: I also get a little frightened that it’s Zerok coming for the both of us.

Coronas remained silent, leaning into her hand and closing his eyes.

Coronas: Sometimes I wish I could walk away from it all and go back to the Sahara.

Rosetta: This path was meant for you.

Coronas: It was easier when I was a mere priest. Not some hooded phantom.

Rosetta: You’re hurt!

Coronas starred down, following Rosetta’s gaze to the trail of blood that trickled down his arm. He seemed intrigued with the red, as if it reminded him that the symbol of Coronas was immortal but he was very real and mortal. He suddenly saw the cloth of a blanket pressed against his wound. Looking up, he was nearly shocked to see Rosetta pressing what had been her covering of herself against his wound, her momentary modesty forgotten. As she met his eyes with concern, though, she realized her error and quickly looked away in embarrassment, covering herself with her arms in an “X” pattern and her legs pressed together and against her arms.

Rosetta: Forgive me.

Coronas: For what?

Rosetta: My…immodest behavior.

Quickly wiping the blood off with the clot, Coronas quickly tore some of it off to wrap around wound, tying it tightly to slow the bleeding. With that down, he threw the remaining cloth away before slowly reaching out with his right hand to take Rosetta’s hand. Slowly, he pulled her up to her feet to wrap his arms around her. She protested for a moment out of modesty, but quieted as she rested her head against the cold armor covering his chest.

Coronas: Nothing to forgive.

She looked up at him before looking at the candles shyly, still worried. He had to smile. A year ago, the two had come to full terms with themselves. No one would recognize them as a couple, but they had prayed to the gods to unite them in their eyes. Rosetta had only asked for that ritual, and, being a former priest, Coronas had agreed. No one would know they were mated. Except the gods. It was at that memory that Coronas remembered something regarding Rosetta. Reaching in-between his chest armor, he slowly pulled out a folded cloth.

Coronas: I got something for you.

Rosetta disengaged herself from her lover to look at him in surprise as she saw the cloth. Slowly taking it, she let the material fall as she held the corners. It extended to reveal a kalasiris. Slowly, she recognized the material, dyed into black with designs and comfortable embroidery. The outfit was of high-class design and would wrap around her neck in twin straps.

Coronas: One of the Zerok’s ladies’ rooms had several of these. This one…

Her smile stopped him as she quickly, and fluidly, pulled it over her head. Turning her back to Coronas, she silently looked over her shoulder at him. All the Sand Wraith could do was smile under the mask as he tied the straps around her neck and into a knot to hold it in place. The dress covered her modestly, but still left some of her chest to see. It was a sleep dress for her, one she would not be able to wear outside without attracting attention. Turning to look at Coronas, Rosetta checked his wound before thanking him. Slowly, she loosed the arm armor plates and pulled them off before letting him loosen the chest armor. The piece broke apart into the two halves before joining the arm pieces. The shin armor was next, until Coronas was left in his black clothes. Silently, he thanked the original Coronas for his ingenuity. The linen skirts made it impossible to run. With his fortune of riches, the first Coronas had developed a secret idea of wrapping the dyed cloth around the legs and another bit around the manhood. A belt kept this style up around the waist. Too bad this would never catch on, cause it was actually a good idea.

Slowly, Rosetta reached under the cloth resting on the current Coronas’ face to let her fingers wonder along the skin before she gently lifted the mask off. Coronas felt his hair lift and fall with the cloth. In the years that had passed, he had not let his hair be cut, and now it rested in waves down to his shoulders. Rosetta had said that the short hair/bald had never suited him anyway.

Rosetta: My Chra.

She smiled at the human face of Chri Sava. As she held his mask in her hands, her eyes met his before their lips met…
******************************************************************

The sun was rising as I stood at the window. The Sand Wraith was done for the night, but Chri Sava still had much to do in the day. Rosetta was asleep, content that I was home and safe for the time being. I had to smile as I turned my head to look at her sleeping form. Turning my heads to the rising sun, I watched it illuminate the city slowly, sending the shadows running and dancing across the ground.

That is until they danced before my eyes, surrounding my open window frame in a sheet of darkness. I was thrown back in surprise as I looked at the now pitch black space. What the gods was happening? This had never happened except once…

No. That was impossible. That was a dream I had over two years ago! Why was this happening now?!

But I could not be wrong in this case, and that was proven as once more, glowing letters of a language I had not seen before were etched into the darkness. Once more, I understand this language, though I did not know how or why. It was called Engleesh, or something like that. Slowly, I let my eyes wander across the writing as I read.

Sava: To whomever reads this letter, I have attained immortality! My name shall always be remembered. My natural name, without the masks and lies. For you, my friend and reader, I escaped oblivion and faced the demons. I now stand on a precipice against a powerful enemy. I stand to make a change in the concept of authority and power. Let me remind you, I still believe that the quest for power destroys. I go not to seek power, but to remove it from those who don’t deserve it. Nothing noble about it, I just realize the greatest evil has to be me. For through me comes order and happiness. Through being hated, my world remains focused and I must be that symbol. Now, I face a hero of the people. For the sake of those that stand in the future and believe in all we do, he must fall. It is axiomatic. It cannot be otherwise. If I fail, then there must be another way to make him fall.

Regardless, this is my fight, not yours, my friend. I just wanted to write to you and say I’m alright.

Always,

Christian Savior
March 11, 2010.



This was absurd! How could he still be in the same year when two years had appeared since I last saw this “Christian”? I looked up to see the words and shadows slowly begin to fade.

Sava: No! No! I need to know who you are! Who are you, Christeean?! Why do you seek me out?! Christeean!? Christeean!?

Rosetta: Chra?


I spun around to see Rosetta looking up at me in her new outfit. She looked worried, though tired, as she rubbed her eyes.

Rosetta: Whom are you talking to?

Chra: I…just a ghost I think.

Rosetta: Praying again?


Looking out of the window, I saw the city of Akehetaten again, shining in the new day.

Chra: Yeah…just praying…

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Savior: Our Father, Who art in heaven
Hallowed be Thy Name;
Thy kingdom come,
Thy will be done,
on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread,
and forgive us our trespasses,
as we forgive those who trespass against us;
and lead us not into temptation,
but deliver us from evil. Amen.


The camera opens up to reveal none other than Christian Savior. The wind blows his long, black jacket around and past him. His long hair flows as well, as the Rising Phoenix stands on top of the Delta Hotel in Toronto, Ontario. The camera registers a shocking fact. There are no championship title belts adorning young Savior.

Savior: Lead them not into temptation but deliver them from the evil. What evil is that exactly? Me? Or is it the evil of complacency? Mediocrity?


Slowly, turning his head to the camera, Savior’s eyes glare into the lens and into the watching eyes of Jake Starr.

Savior: As a definition, mediocrity pertains to that which is 1) Average or less than average, 2) of moderate quality, or 3) Jake Starr.

With a slight smirk, Savior quickly adjusts his coat before continuing his stare at the camera.

Savior: Yes, Starr. Now that you are finished talking to yourself, maybe you can do the smart thing and shut up and listen to the one thing you seem to be lacking. Reality. See, I always wondered why you considered yourself to be the social misfit. Why you consider yourself strange at all. Problem is, that makes you a misnomer. You do know what that is right? I don’t need to get a dictionary to explain it to you, do I? Because for someone claiming to be a misfit, you sure don’t act like one. I mean, we have Shilo Valiant, Dillusion, Masquerade, Stacy Kissenger…all people who act like total fools and beyond what is considered the norm. What have you done that is even close to that? You sat in front of a camera and at great lengths spoke. Now where have I seen that before? Jason Zero, Greg Cherry, Drew Welacheir, CHBK, Matt Bishop, Gable Winchester, Adam Riddick, Orlando Cruze, AWOL, the list goes on and on and on. Guys that just sit around and talk. I mean, seriously, Jake, where’s the creativity?! Make a face! Tell a joke. DO SOMETHING! Cause all you’ve done is the same thing you did back at 2-for-1 and that was bore us with your sermonizing. Well to be honest, Starr, I rather be dead than listen to you fire another promo early on in the game and talk about yourself at greats lengths with nothing but a tape recorder and whatever low-level camera your pathetic budget can afford. I repeat. I’d rather be dead.


With a knowing smirk, Savior returns his view to the bottom of the hotel, where people are walking across the streets. Without hesitation, Savior suddenly swan dives off the Delta Hotel. The cameraman is shocked and runs to the edge to see Savior diving face first towards the waiting ground. The shot then suddenly changes to be following Savior side by side as he heads for the ground, his eyes never wavering from his destination.

Savior: But dead won’t help anyone will it? Especially when you’re entering a world. A world full of sights and sounds…


As Savior speaks, the ground begins to swirl into a whirlpool of colors and designs. The image does not affect Savior’s concentration.

Savior: You unlock this door with the key of your imagination. Stepping over the threshold, you’ve just entered…The Twilight Zone.


With grace and form that has made him such a skilled performer in the ring, Savior lands into the whirlpool, disappearing into as the logo appears of “The Twilight Zone”. It is only, as the third camera backs away, that it is revealed that what we have watched was nothing more than a television screen. As the camera pans further out, the main television screens on the walls, followed with the lavish chair on the side next to a table where the IWC Cartel and the SCW United States Championship rest, is enough to allow anyone to recognize that we are in the realm of the longest talk-show in IWC and SCW. Sitting in the chair, with a leg propped up over one of the armrests sits Christian Savior, his hands grasped together and his mouth hooked in that sinister grin of his.


Savior: Enter Jake Starr, SCW Champion and self-proclaimed “rightful champion of IWC” though he is not an IWC superstar. But what is a champion? Is the Starr a rightful champion, or a failure? We are about to discover the answer to this question, for it is the arrogance and assumptions of Starr that are going to lead him spiraling out of control down a one way trip…to the Twilight Zone!


Standing up, Savior’s clothes are the same as the footage we had just witnessed. With a sweep of his hand, almost dismissively, the Child of Twilight made his way across the room.

Savior: Seriously, Jake, did you honestly believe that your promo would drive me to suicide? You overestimate yourself if you thought that for even a second. Trust me, if I can withstand a “Look at me! I can use big words” promo from my older brother, Jason, your little tangent about how great you are isn’t something that can bother me. That being said, will you please shut the fuck up?!


Behind Savior is a single screen that suddenly shows different colors that slowly morph into the familiar face of Jake Starr.

Savior: I mean seriously, Jake? You were complaining how much I talked last time we faced? You must have talked about every little thing in my career. “He’s won the US title, he’s won every singles title, he’s lost to me in the past.” I also found a dead raccoon in an alley when I was eight. I got a rope to use as a leash from the trash near it, tied it around his neck and named him Oliver. I would drag him around the sidewalk and listen to the weird sounds he made as he hit the curb. Why don’t you use that in your next promo, Jake? It’s about as relevant as the other shit you posted in reference to my name. If I wanted a history lesson, Jake, I would have switched to the History channel and watched the Americans get beat by the Canadians in the War of 1812. You know? The war Americans refuse to acknowledge cause it’s an embarrassment to their status. Kind of like how you can’t seem to acknowledge the truth of the IWC Championship.

And in case you were living in your room the last few weeks, and seeing the quality of your promo videos, that wouldn’t be unlikely, let me remind you the reality you so conveniently have skipped over. In IWC, I BEAT Johnny Kingdom and became the rightful IWC Heavyweight Champion. Jason then paid a referee, the ungrateful Alex Ingelson, to call an unscheduled and impromptu match, in which he stole the IWC title from me. Still, the match was NOT recognized as an official match and the title should not have changed hands. However, because of his pandering to the audience and to people like you, my brother Jason made you all believe his win was legitimate, but the truth is, it wasn’t. So no, Jakey. I didn’t steal anything from you. I didn’t take any moment of glory from you. All I did was take back what was rightfully mine. Because like Jason Zero and every other loser and Neanderthal in the back of the locker rooms, you only see what’s right in front of you and in the end you pinned no one of importance, be it Jason or Greg. The man you should have pinned was me. So who really failed, Jake? The man that got back what was rightfully his or the man that couldn’t achieve a single thing he said he would? Or am I mistaking you with another man who said “I will beat Jason Zero and become one of the few superstars to hold both belts”?

Still, for someone who loves regurgitating known facts like some kind of broken down faq machine or record player, you really don’t know me at all, do you, Jake? Dwelling on losses and missed opportunities? I’m not the one crying like some two-year old saying “Oh! Christian took my title! Ohhh I’m the rightful champion, even if I only pinned Greg Cherry. Oh boo fuckiddy hoo!”. That’s where we’re different, Jake. In war, truth is the first casualty. For you, that time has long since passed. Me? I still dwell in the truth. Missed opportunities? I’ve won more opportunities than I’ve lost, moron. Just ask Shilo Valiant. Just ask Orlando Cruze or any other superstar. Dwelling on losses? I think you have me confused with you, seeing as how you can’t stop talking about Adam Allocco and your loss to him. Jake, get this through your amateur head. Do I lose, Jake? Yeah. Sure, what wrestler doesn’t have a loss here or there? Difference between you and me is I DON’T let it get me. I turn it into an opportunity. See, all your logic, all the bullshit you’ve been feeding yourself for months is now crumbling into the dust around you, and you can’t stand it.

In fact, there’s a lot about me you can’t stand, am I right? After all, despite you “beating Cherry and taking the short cut”, I still outsmarted you and took the title and laughed in your face at what a failure you are. I then went on to win the United States Champion, thus becoming the second Supreme Champion in SCW, another feat you haven’t done. Meanwhile, you were beating up a nobody that the former US champion beat up. Imagine how much I could tear Thorn inside out and yet he pushed you to your limit. How pathetic.

So, if I look at your promo and listen through it, though it may take hours to get through your ranting over every detail while crying about Drachewych and Jason half the time. Seriously, I thought you were going to be focused on your match against me. Instead, I get to see a grown man ball his eyes out when talking about my brother and Drachewych. What are you, Jake, two?! But if I look at your promo, I think you’re the one who’s failed. Because regardless of how you’ve tried to convince everyone that you “threw me into obscurity”, you still can’t do what I have done. You’re still living in my shadow. And that shadow grew ever larger and longer and harder to get out of when I became the new United States Champion. See, despite your so called claims about removing me from the business, it’s interesting that I am still here and still a thorn in your side. So tell me, Jake, for I am dying to know. When exactly did you accomplish the task of banishing me to oblivion? Was it the week I called in sick and didn’t participate in SCW? Was that your supposed “master move”? Or are you just full of hot air as per usual and throwing whatever outrageous claim you can get your hands on in the vain hope of pandering to the fans? Those little kiddy tricks may impress them Jake, but it is not impressing me. It’s just your way of covering up one failure after another.

Ya see, Jake, you’re not the only one who had a revelation after Retribution. After my match, I saw you and Jason. I saw Jason trying his best to sneak in a quick way to be involved and steal a title or two. I saw you push him aside so that no one could take away your spotlight. Then it hit me. You’re afraid, Jake. I can see it in your eyes now. I see it every time you look at that SCW title of yours. I see it every time you open your mouth and say my name. You’re afraid of me, Jake. You’re afraid because you never wanted it to be me and Cherry in the match, cause you knew you could probably beat Jason. But me? I was the wildcard, I was the guy that could turn fate in my favor at the drop of a hat. I am the guy that could TAKE your special match from you and that’s exactly what I did. People weren’t talking about Starr at the end of the day, they were talking about Savior. The news on the websites had pictures of me, not Jake Starr. See, Jake, that was your true realization, wasn’t it? As long as I am in SCW, I will overshadow you. I will be there doing bigger and better things than anything you come up with, because I am just that much better than you. That’s why you’re so obsessed trying to convince the worms of SCW that you can and will deliver me into obscurity. But whom are you really trying to convince, Jake? Because it’s sounds like all the tricks I pulled, all the greatness I’ve achieved, which you can’t help filling your promos with in telling us, is starting to sink into your mentality a little bit. Deep down, you know the truth just as well as I do. You won’t get rid of me. You CAN’T get rid of me. It’s as simple as that, Jake.

But I want you at your best, Jake. I want you to have that passion and drive when you take me on at Breakdown, because if you don’t. If you come to Breakdown with that doubt in your head and that lingering fear in your heart, then I will tear you apart ring post to ring post. Cause all it will take is one brief second, one shot and the fans, those misfits of yours, will be yelling “SPEAR! SPEAR! SPEAR! SPEAR!”. One second is all I need and I will rip you in half. Then it will be you sent to the back, wondering what you could have done differently to change this outcome, cause this time, you won’t have Jason or Cherry to run to and steal a win, Jake. You won’t have someone ready to pull me out of the ring so that you can take a quick pin. It’s just you, Jake. Just you.

At breakdown, Jake, in less than two days, I am going to prove to the world and more so, prove to you that I am the true heavyweight champion. More than that, I am going to do what many thought I can’t do, and that’s shut Jake Starr up once and for all. Because, Jake, that is something I can achieve…you…you’ve already lost…Oblivion cannot touch me now, Jake. Look at me! I’m fucking immortal! Forever remembered as only one of two Supreme Champions! The ONLY Undisputed Heavyweight Champion of the World. I’ve WON! And no delusions you possess will change that reality. You’ve already failed, Jake. Time to live with it, as you spend the rest of your time wandering…in the Twilight Zone.

The camera fades on Savior’s face as the screen goes black before ours does…

To Be Continued.
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Jake Starr
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Some People Don't Know When To SHUT UP! - SCW RP #68
Opponent: Christian Savior
Date: 03.15.10
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Christian Savior
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Project Fragment: Chapter 2 – Starr-Crossed – Part 2: Final Thoughts…


The camera quickly opens to reveal Christian Savior standing before it, a carbon copy of what was performed by Jake Starr mere hours ago. The Rising Phoenix is all smiles as he stands before the camera.

Savior: Jake Starr, I giv-

Narrator: In a world filled with controversy. In a land riddled with lies and deceit. One man has risen about delusion and despair to bring absolute truth.


Savior is slightly taken aback but quickly remembers the deep voice of James Earl Jones.

Narrator: His name is Christian Savior. A man born of prophecy, set to be the greatest wrestler in the world. Tonight, he faces his most formidable challenge yet. The current SCW champion, Jake Starr! The man that has been nearly unbeatable. But can the unbeatable stand up to the omnipotent? Can Jake Starr take his game to a whole new level?

Savior: Nope.

Narrator: Really?

Savior: He already tried.

Narrator: In his last promo.

Savior: Yeah, that’s why I hired you.

Narrator: What did he do?

Savior: Just bitch a lot and cry about his own demented version of reality while bashing mine.

Narrator: Wow.

Savior: Yeah. Hey are you doing any gigs now, Jones?

Narrator: Actually yeah, I got some voice work coming up in a bit.

Savior: Theatre?

Narrator: Film.

Savior: Oh really? I gotta see that.

Narrator: You should. It’s not bad.

Savior: Compared to the other crap these days?

Narrator: Exactly.

Savior: Anyways, please continue.

Narrator: Gladly. With his resume spanning two federations in over five years, and over twenty title belts to said resume, the Omnipotent Opportunist looks to add one more notch to his status.

Savior: The ender of Jake Starr.

Narrator: Prophecy is in motion this Breakdown, as champion faces champion. Heavyweight vs. Supreme. Pride on the line. Tonight, one man will be left standing! SCW presents Breakdown! Tonight at eight pm!

Savior: Thanks James!

Narrator: No problem.

Savior: Hey look…before you go…could you do that famous line from that movie?

Narrator: I don’t know.

Savior: Come on, for my sake, please?

Narrator: Alright. You must take your place in the circle of life!

Savior: I LOVE THAT LINE!


The voice fades, leaving Savior alone to look at the camera.

Savior: See, Jake? I can fill my promo with endless crap we already know. It isn’t hard. I ask you to give me something special. I ask you to go beyond the call of duty and put some effort into your promo presentation. I ask you to “think outside the box”, like you preached so many times in your last promo, giving us nice examples too. Instead…you sit in a dark room with a camera rolling. Why am I not fucking surprised!

For the love of God, Jake! I give you “The Twilight Zone”! You give me backroom lecture. I give you “special effects”! You give me one light! I give you legitimate material to go off of…and you return with “baby-goo” and hypocrisy. Ya see, Jake? You see why I can’t take you seriously? You don’t try. You never try. You just ramble from the mouth. You think that you can just walk into any match and walk out just as easily. It’s not only sad, it’s fucking pathetic. Because while you’ve been spending nickels and dimes pandering to the masses like that’s apparently they’re worth in your eyes, I’ve spent millions of dollars, hours of time, and more importantly, some of my best ideas in promos. Why? Because this isn’t some commercial where you just stand there and talk of a product, Jake. You don’t get paid by “just passing by” like you’ve done. This is professional-wrestling. This is Supreme Championship Wrestling. Here, everything has to reflect that. Everything must exemplify the word “Supreme”, and you… in a word, don’t.

This half-ass nature may have worked back in RWA, PWR, or Majestic Wrestling or the other rat-holes you may have crawled out from, but it doesn’t count for a damn thing here. It doesn’t count for anything here. And since you want to bring in references, Jake, I’ll give you one as well.

In 1970, a man by the name of Peter Brook put together a performance of “A Midsummer Night’s Dream”, a play written by the bard of Stratford on Avon, William Shakespeare. Now, instead of going for extravagance and amazing sets and costumes, Brook simplified things, making it a three-sided white wall on the stage and the costumes being simple at best. No real sets were used and tech was somewhat easy. See, Brook was of the mind that the words of Shakespeare had to be heard and at the forefront of any production. So, by removing the elements, the focus was on the whole, unabridged words. The result? Brook’s production became famous all over the theatrical world, with tours and many other companies imitating it. Another example is Michael Birch’s One Man Hamlet…guess what that was…which was also very popular and successful.

But you see where I am going with this, Jake? If you’re gonna cheat the audience out of a spectacle, like the kind I provide to entertain the masses and show my superiority, then you have to FUCKING MAKE THE WORDS STRONG IN YOUR PROMO! And boy, do you fail! “He’s a hypocrite! He’s not a hypocrite! He’s dwelling on his losses like crazy! He needs to dwell more on his losses! (imitating crying baby with whimpers) He’s a cad… and a thief! That’s… a …crime! He should… go… to jail! Mommy! Make him give back MY Title!” (regular voice) Dear gods, Jake, you’ve cried more times than Stacy Kissenger after losing match after match against Karnivale. You bitch more than the fat chick on Dr. Phil. You whine more than Cartman on South Park. “Whateva, I do what I want!”.

See what I did there, Jake? Just now. Did you see? Relate everything back to you and your style? It’s called relevancy. Getting to the point. I mean, for over ninety percent of your promo, you were talking about how both Steve Jobs and Bill Gates tried to conquer the world. Ten minutes of dribble like that and your tie in is…you happen to own an Ipod. Bravo. You’re a puppet of commercialization. Thank you for confirming how easily manipulated you can be and how little to no free will you have. If you did, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation right now. I’d be doing a different promo all together, with blackjack and hookers…in fact…forget the blackjack and promo! And the hookers cause I’m married. Dammit.


Savior stares even more intently into the camera. Any closer and he would like Jake Starr, making out with the glass every chance he got.

Savior: As for the rest of your tie-in…all I can ask is…Jake? What the hell are you talking about? Talking cereal bowls? Cherrios? Rosetta? Alternate gods? What is this? I just said the Lord’s Prayer in the beginning of my promo and suddenly I’m have no right to have a religion and am a hypocrite of following Christianity? I don’t understand, Jake. “NOBODY LISTENS TO IT”? I can understand why you wouldn’t listen to my promo, cause it’s better than yours, but what nonsense are you spouting off regarding making up cites and people?

I mean, did you cry yourself to sleep, Jakey, and dream all this Egyptian nonsense. Cause all that stuff you ranted on about sounds more like the devices of some drug-induced dream. And personally, I can’t look into people’s dreams, so I don’t know. Did you mistake your dream of me, hopefully not a wet one, for the promo you were watching? Or did you pull a Jason Zero and seek out a “good” psychic that told you what I was possibly dreaming? Is that why you’ve gone so far off the dead end with relating my single prayer of help to sacrilege? Tell me, Jake, because I don’t understand. I just don’t understand.


Running his hands through his hair in confusion, it seems Savior is actually confused at the nonsense Starr was pouring out.

Savior: So if we bypass your “long winded narration or videos of the past RIOT and Breakdown” and the re-hashing of what occurred through videos or however you did it, the never-ending reference to the conglomerates of the entertainment business in North America, and the off-topic, misinterpreted rant so crazy that even Dane Cook would blush and wonder what the hell was going on, we get to the meat and potatoes of Jake Starr’s promo. Everyone gather around! Jake is about to say something relevant and important! Prepare for the best two minutes of your life!

Cause that’s all you give us, Jake. In your entire speel, you grant us two minutes of what you consider “verbal comeback” that will truly effect and deter the United States Champion. While I appreciate your intention, and admire your ideas, you don’t really do any of that…


The scene goes to static before a picture is seen of Jake Starr from his last promo. He is so close to the camera, winking and smiling at it as if it is his lover. Desperate fool.

Jake: How can he fathom using that vernacular when referencing me? Seriously?! Has he forgotten what I've done.

As he talks, or spits, onto the lens, the screen is seen being pushed in half and to the side, as Christian Savior joins the scene on his on small screen, now with Starr and Savior taking up a half of the whole scene. Waving happily at his fans, Savior quickly places his fingers on his lips as a hush for them to keep quiet, so as not to take away Starr’s “Two minutes of intelligence”.

Starr: That he was SO HOPING wouldn't happen at the 2 for 1 Special? Yeah... He knows how he whined and cried about the POTENTIAL CHANCE I could walk away with both championships, because, like Greg "Fatboy 'Never-Gonna-Be' Slim" Cherry, he was COMPLETELY upset knowing his ONE claim to fame was in jeopardy.

Savior: Heart of a poet.

With a flick of his writs, Savior holds up a remote control and hits the pause button, freezing Jake Starr in place and effectively shutting him up. If only it worked in real life.

Savior: Touche, Jake. Yeah, I was a little worried that my sole achievement, the one thing that no one else had done was in jeopardy. I wanted to make sure that didn’t happen. Yes, that’s true. I’ll give you that. Why to state what I already said in my last promo at 2-for-1. Next you’re gonna tell me how I said I was Supreme champion. Or maybe how I said I have a finisher called a spear. Instead of going back to stating nearly everything regarding my career in SCW, like he did in the last promo, he’s just gone to the most obvious shit I said weeks ago and in my first promo. How lazy can you get? Anyway, yes, I made sure no one achieved my…achievement… that night and-

Starr: And guess what... Unlike Cherry... He didn't protect his precious achievement!

Reaching out quickly, Savior suddenly pauses the screen, having accidentally hit the play button. Still, the words have apparently surprised him.

Savior: Excuse me?

Quickly rewinding the last second or two, Savior listens intently.

Starr: And guess what…Unlike Cherry… He didn’t protect his precious achievement!


The pause button is hit again as Savior looks up at the ceiling, his face further filled with confusion.

Savior: I didn’t protect my achievement? I didn’t protect my achievement? Okay. Let’s go with that. Is Jake Starr the official IWC Champion? As Dan Douglas decreed him the champion? Has he been posted as such on websites and sports channels around the world? No?

With a sudden anger, Savior strikes the camera lens in front of him, causing it to shake but not brake.

Savior: Hello, Jake?! Since none of that has happened, then you’re not the champion. You can claim rights all you want, but until you are recognized by IWC as its champion, you aren’t. That’s not delusion, Jake. That’s cold, hard fact. So I guess, in a way I did succeed. But actually, I didn’t have to do anything to secure my achievement. You already did. I mean, I’ve told you this a thousand times, Jake. You could have just paid attention when you made the pin. You didn’t and it cost you. And I have seen that footage a hundred or so times, Jake. From every angle. As much as I hate my brother, Jake, his shoulder was on Cherry’s body. So, you cost yourself that legacy moment. You cost yourself the chance to make all the words you just said true. Instead, because of your lack of talent and your intelligence, all your words are just delusional lies you tell yourself to make you feel like the big man, when I, and the rest of the people in SCW and IWC, just shake our heads at the poor man who can’t make up his mind in a promo or in his life. As I said before, Jake, it’s just pathetic.

Savior hits the play button again, letting the video play again as he mouths the words “Boring and pathetic”.

Jake: See, he seemingly has a skewed view of mediocrity. He seemingly believes that being an outcast who nobody respects, a FORMER champion who never could hold onto MAJOR championships, and being someone who everyone has written off as "past his prime," is not mediocre.

Pause button! Christian time!

Savior: And we’re back to the “past his prime” deal. The oh so delightful line he used in his “Mr. Roger’s Parody” where he didn’t really change anything or make anything funny, just had some of the puppets names slightly altered. You know, Jake, I do find that interesting when you say I have not held onto a MAJOR championship for long and-wait a minute! Didn’t he just say in his previous promo he knew how good I was? That he knew I had won every possible singles title in SCW? That I was a man to beat? Now he’s saying I’m not? Wow, I must have pissed him off something fierce of he’s going back on his own promo like some…amateur. Maybe he felt offended by the lord’s prayer. Maybe he’s an atheist. If so, I’m sorry Jake, but that’s no reason to go back and contradict yourself. Still, holding a “MAJOR” championship title long. Well, seeing as how I don’t know what major is to the man that can’t make up his mind, I suppose I’ll have to dangerously assume he means the Heavyweight championship. Oh wait…the one he’s after? The IWC Championship? Didn’t I hold that for about eight months? No! That’s not nearly as good as Jake’s ONLY heavyweight reign. What? It is? You mean to tell me that he’s only held the SCW title for less than half that long? Really?! You don’t say! And eight is a bigger number than four?! No kidding! Jake are you getting this? That means that my first championship reign, or my first “MAJOR” championship reign is still longer than yours. GASP! Looks like Jakey made a mistake!

Maybe he didn’t mean the Heavyweight titles! After all, he’s not a total idiot. He would no doubt know about how I ruled as IWC Champion for nearly a year and was still the longest reigning Heavyweight Champion in IWC history. Maybe he meant the secondary belts. I’m sure that was it! I mean, what with holding three of those at the same time in SCW, making me the ONLY Triple Crown Champion of the new SCW, holding two of them at any one time, being a nine time dual champion and all, not to mention 99% of my championship reigns weren’t shorter than a month, and the majority of them were at least 3 months, and incorporating the fact that I have held the Cartel Championship for nearly three months and still reigning…no…Jake, I’m sorry, but you fucked up. Once again, we are left with a pointless and pathetic “zinger” by Starr that holds no grounds. Insults with no basis of truth, how can we expect anything more from such an amateur.

Starr: Jesus Christ! He’s amateur.

Savior: Who hit play?!

Techie (off-camera): My bad. Sorry, Christian!


Savior hits pause on the remote again.


Savior: That’s okay. This actually works. Now, am I hearing things or did he just call me amateur?

Techie: He did.

Savior: And his basis is? The fact that my “Spear, spear, spear” bit is similar to a WWE thing that happened years ago as said by…Jim Ross? Wait…Jim Ross didn’t say that…ever! It was Michael Cole and mostly, Paul Heyman who said that. Jesus Christ! Not only is he hitting me with obscure references, but he can’t even get his own references right! And I’m the amateur? Hello kettle, you’re black, sincerely Pot!


Slowly, almost hesitantly, Savior presses the play button on his remote, afraid at what other bullshit, Starr will say.

Starr: Eventually Christian will learn that his incessant babbling is worthless. He'll learn that trying to break down my promo line by line, a trick I used back in the day, but have since learned to practice coming up with my own stuff, doesn't work. He'll learn that you can take my words, try and spin them around to benefit his cause, but in the end, it won't work. Sorry kid!
Taking a deep breath, and blowing it out slowly, Christian slowly composes himself before looking back at the camera in front of him.

Savior: Okay, seriously, Starr? Why are you making this so fucking easy? Every word out of your mouth is you being the hypocrite. Breaking down promos? You’re sitting a dark room, with a camera, bashing everything I said in the “Twilight Zone”. It can work for you but not me? It seems Starr, that you are the one on the different planet with such logic. I must admit, that all you’re doing is making me and everyone who watches you laugh at you. You’re like the Matt Hardy of this business. Stale moves, stale attitude. Me? There is nothing to describe me to. I am one of a kind. Still, I can understand why you would copy the style that you so vehemently bash for two minutes of your lengthy promo. I mean, after all, who doesn’t want to be Christian Savior? Even you, I can imagine, Jake, want to be Christian Savior somewhere in that heart of yours. When you see perfection and compare it to mediocre and amateur, as you have already proven you are, you long to duplicate it. As children, we are taught that, aren’t we? So it sounds like you’ve taken that lesson to heart and applied to this promo. Why don’t we skip the bullshit, Jake. No more references and no more pathetic one-liners. What are you really trying to say to me?

With the play button pushed, Jake’s face is seen again. However, this time, it seems to be taking different shots and words at the time, making it seem choppy.

Starr: I can’t BEAT you, SAVIOR! I am an amateur! Jesus Christ! I am great fodder! My promo is moot compared to yours! My reign as champion is a crime! I live in a FARCIAL WORLD! My promo lacks reality!


Hitting pause, Savior is shocked beyond measure.

Savior: Well, it take a big man to admit his wrong doings, Jake. It takes a bigger man to agree with his better. I think you’ve done the right thing. With this confession, I can possibly forgive and heal you.

Starr (still choppy): Will YOU?!

Savior: No. No Jake, I won’t. There is no forgiveness in store for you. For your arrogance and your lack of effort in anything you do in SCW, you have left me no choice. The verdict is destruction by the hands of the Chosen One, Christian Savior. And like the Romans and Jews that damned Jesus to the cross and to death, I damn you to humiliation and exposure to the reality you seem to praise but miss at every turn. At breakdown, it shall be the public humiliation of the “blinded soul” as he stumbles into the ring and awaits my judgment and wrath. Because you won’t get a chance to fly at Breakdown, Jake. You no longer have the right to fly now that the world has seen the true, half-ass amateur that is Jake Starr. No, as was the most tragic death in history, your destruction shall end with one move and one move only. The world knows, you try and joke, but I see the fear in your eyes whenever it is mentioned. I see how you fail to mention that one word in blind fear that it will haunt you and take you and everything you believe you stand for. Spear. Spear. Spear! SPEAR! SPEAR SPEAR SPEAR SPEAR!

Savior is in hysterics as he finishes the word Starr couldn’t say. Looking at the camera one last time, Savior’s eyes are wild and full of excitement and power, the screen of Jake Starr disappearing, having served its purpose.


Savior: You stand as an idol, Jake. A man with a golden head, but feet of clay. That’s your falsity. Your fidelity to your fame, but not to your people. But like that idol, one spear will take out those feet of clay and send you falling to oblivion. Though you will remain golden, that title will be tainted with your blood and dirt as you suffer your deserved Spear of Destiny! One spear, one second, one winner. And it won’t be the imitator, Starr. It will be the original Christian Savior, standing tall above all. Accept no substitute, Jake. So say it, so it shall be done. Spear…spear…spear…


Leaning into the camera, Savior’s glow with one last lesson for the amateur that is Jake Starr.

Savior: And that is how you give a fucking promo!


Marching off, the camera suddenly sees an image on the wall. It is a black phoenix, the images of fire flowing up as it burns across the painted skies and the painted stars…

The End
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