tanderbolt

Mahou Puroresu: Your Heart Belongs in the Ring!

Catherine

Name: Catherine Alekseyevich Federova

Stage Name: Tsarina Catherine, Empress of Ice

Age: 19

Appearance: She is tall and has a large, intimidating frame. She keeps her blonde hair closely cropped and her ice blue eyes make for a deathly glare when she stares at someone. Her ring attire consists of a gi jacket with a rashguard underneath and bicycle shorts, plus the usual kickpads, wrestling shoes and her gloves. The jacket is white and adorned with double headed eagle on the back of it, while the rest of it is patterned with crosses sewn in gold colored thread. He gloves feature the pattern of the Russian flag on them, and her shorts have red star bordered with blue and white on the side of them.

Personality: Catherine is cold, closed off, and incredibly serious when it comes to her training. She works hard and accepts no excuses, nor does she expect anyone to cut her any slack. Friends are not something she seeks, but good training partners are always welcome. Catherine has an intense belief in the integrity of the sport and it’s potential to inspire the world, and will not tolerate those who corrupt it.

Signature Moves:
Tunguska Impact: A suplex, modeled after the Ura Nage from Judo. She grips her opponent around the waist while standing perpendicular, lifting them high off the ground. At the apex a blinding light starts to shine and her grip loosens as she bends lower, driving the opponent downwards. The shining light leaves a trail like that of a meteorite as it completes it’s arc straight into the mat, driving the opponent onto their head and neck with a fearsome impact.

Vyechnaya Pamyat: A brutal neck crank, applied with both hands behind the opponent’s head. As she locks it on an icy wind swirls around her, and the cold grip engulfs her opponent. When the hold is tight it is cold enough to start freezing her opponent where they stand, cutting off their mobility to escape it.

Mahou Puroresu: Your Heart Belongs in the Ring!

Hey, here's my CS.

CS

Name: Catherine Alekseyevich Federova

Stage Name: Tsarina Catherine, Empress of Ice

Age: 19

Appearance: She is tall and has a large, intimidating frame. She keeps her blonde hair closely cropped and her ice blue eyes make for a deathly glare when she stares at someone. Her ring attire consists of a gi jacket with a rashguard underneath and bicycle shorts, plus the usual kickpads, wrestling shoes and her gloves. The jacket is white and adorned with double headed eagle on the back of it, while the rest of it is patterned with crosses sewn in gold colored thread. He gloves feature the pattern of the Russian flag on them, and her shorts have red star bordered with blue and white on the side of them.

Personality: Catherine is cold, closed off, and incredibly serious when it comes to her training. She works hard and accepts no excuses, nor does she expect anyone to cut her any slack. Friends are not something she seeks, but good training partners are always welcome. Catherine has an intense belief in the integrity of the sport and it’s potential to inspire the world, and will not tolerate those who corrupt it.

Signature Moves:
Tunguska Impact: A suplex, modeled after the Ura Nage from Judo. She grips her opponent around the waist while standing perpendicular, lifting them high off the ground. At the apex a blinding light starts to shine and her grip loosens as she bends lower, driving the opponent downwards. The shining light leaves a trail like that of a meteorite as it completes it’s arc straight into the mat, driving the opponent onto their head and neck with a fearsome impact.

Vyechnaya Pamyat: A brutal neck crank, applied with both hands behind the opponent’s head. As she locks it on an icy wind swirls around her, and the cold grip engulfs her opponent. When the hold is tight it is cold enough to start freezing her opponent where they stand, cutting off their mobility to escape it.

Mahou Puroresu: Your Heart Belongs in the Ring! [Interest Check]

I can fill in whatever, probably will go with Face because I don't want to take away a slot if someone has a really great Heel concept.

Mahou Puroresu: Your Heart Belongs in the Ring! [Interest Check]

It's crazy but I love it. Let's go.

I hate fucking blizzard patches.

Are you saying you wouldn't want sick patches like these on your vest?

AWE: American Wrestling Entertainment

Collaboration with @Silver Carrot

On the Road

"Welcome to Denny's. Can I interest you in a grandslamwich? They're very popular!"

"May I ask what's in a...grandslamwich?"

"You get two eggs, a sausage, some bacon, some ham, mayonaisse, cheese and maple spread. All inside a sandwich."

"....I'll have the cranberry apple chicken salad, please. And some coffee. Thanks."

Oscar stared after the waiter as he left. That sandwich he just suggested sound like 500% of his recommended daily allowance of everything. Better to eat light than eat heavy, in Oscar's opinion. He'll just make up the macro defecit with dinner.

He looked around the restaurant. He'd arrived early and got a table. Jean should be arriving about now. It was surprising how few people had approached him recognising him, though half the bar had stared at him at some point, and one woman had asked if he was an actor. He had replied that he was, in a manner of speaking. Oscar just had one of those faces that people recognise but not where from. It didn't help that at the period where he was World Champ and main heel of the company, he had long hair and no beard. Casual viewers or parents of fans might have a whole conversation with him and not recognise him.

Denny's was a restaraunt that Jean knew well, because they were extremely consistent when it came to being mediocre. The same quality standard persisted across the country, but their grilled chicken was alright and you could find them at about half of the interstate exits in the nation. He didn't like to eat anything too greasy on the road, and Denny's did a better job that rivals like Fridays or Applebees.

He found the table where Oscar was sitting just as the waiter left, but he could flag them down on the next pass. Jean was pretty anonymous, not the kind of wrestler who sold many t-shirts or appeared in advertising, but sitting with Oscar might jog someone's memory more than he would on his own. While he waited, he figured that it would be good to get to business early, they could talk about other matters after their food came. [color=f26522]"So," he said "It's a short feud, but we can make something good. The first match is a throwaway on TV, so it won't be much, but we should think about how the others will go. For the PPV, I was thinking of working the legs, because you've got a lot of flying moves. What would you do, would you match me and go techical, or shift to brawling or something else?"

Oscar thought for a while. "If I mainly use high-flying moves in the tournament match to wrestle smart and keep out your reach, and you worked my legs in the PPV match, I'd probably start with technical, to try and prove that I can do that as well as you can, and when it turns out I can't, then start using a much dirtier brawler style. I think that would tell it's own story with nothing but the styles I'm using."

Jean took a look at the specials on the menu while they talked, just in case there was anything that looked tempting enough to tear him away from his usual dish. He said "You're good with that style switching stuff, I think the crowd would get into it. That's something that's neat about AWE, they encourage people to mix it up. Back in Japan, the promotion and the trainers had their style and I that's what I spent my time working on. I was fine with it, but some people, guys like Caiden, wanted variety so they spent their early years floating between promotions. Speaking of promoter's preferences, have they told you anything specific they want out of us? All I've gotten so far is the finishes."

"That's the good thing about being a pro in this company. You're trusted enough to make up the rest of the match yourself. Having said that, there was a part of the commentary where I claimed I could escape a Tripitaka lock. I'm sorry I have to ask this, and it's okay if you say no, but may I pretty please escape a tripitaka lock without rope-breaking?" Oscar pleased, even linking his hands together in a prey gesture.

Jean smilead and waved his hand, gesturing that everything was alright. "Yeah, I'm alright with that. I like to protect it, but this is program is a little bigger than what I usually do. One of the reasons I went with this finisher is because there's a good escape to it, the forward roll looks clean on the camera and you can chain it into something else. Anything else you want to brainstorm? I've got a couple leglock to armlock transitions that I was thinking of using for the third match, the one where I win. It'll be like I'm building on the working the leg from the PPV match, but this time also wearing down the arm to set up the finish."

Oscar's food arrived at that point. He thanked the waiter then took a forkful of the salad. When he finished, he responded. "I prefer to think up sequences in the training center, but I do have a few spots runing around my head, like hitting you with the belt to win in the first match, but winning the second with an Over and Out. I don't believe in dirty title changes."

Jean put in his order, knowing that it might be a while before it arrived, as the restauraunt was almost full by this point. "Sounds good. After this series, I heard you're going to be part of that big storyline with Caiden. If I remember, you've been wanting to work with him for a while now. It's great that AWE keeps bringing in fresh talent and trying new things, but some of the time I wonder about the new generation. Again, I don't have the benefit of being here long enough to see different eras, but the future of any promotion rests on how it cultivates it's young talent."

"Well," Oscar replied after another mouthful, "As one of the new kids myself once, along with Drayden and Johny Walker, though he left a few years ago, we ushered in the new era that actually seems to be ending now with guys like Caiden being the next faces of the company, and my job as one of the faces of the old generation is to get him over. Then again, from what I've learned about the story for him, we won't need that much of my help to become huge. It doesn't hurt that him, as well as the rest of the new arrivals, are some of the best wrestlers on the planet."

Jean thought for a moment, mulling over the changes AWE had seen. He wasn't a scholar of their history, and even when growing up he only knew about it from channel flipping and advertising, wrestling just wasn't something they watched in the Mpolondo household. "These guys might differ in many things, from styles to experience to personality, but I see the same drive in every one of them. Caiden might have it stronger than anyone. We both started around the same time in Japan and we crossed paths a couple times, but he's always been distant, like nothing outside of the ring matters. I get the feeling that this is what life is about to him, that it's something he can never leave behind even when it's time to go home after the show. I kind of stumbled into this career and I'm grateful for it, but I can't say that it's the fulfillment of my dreams or anything. To me, it's just what I do to support my family."

"I can understand you both to a degree. This used to just be a job to me. I clocked in, wrestled, trained, planned the next match, clocked out and then spent my free time how I chose. But the AWE...well, it is my family now. I don't leave the ring and go back to a normal life, I leave the ring and go back to the locker room, and only ever leave the locker room until it's time for the next match. At least that's how it feels. I'm not sure if I'll ever have time for a real family."

AWE: American Wrestling Entertainment

Collaboration with @Lovely Complex,@Silver Carrot&@Universorum

“For this match, we’re joined on commentary by the one and only, Oscar O’Sullivan himself. He has a particular interest in this match, as whichever competitor wins, he will face in the next round of the tournament. Who would you like to face of the two?”

”Well, Wade. I’ve done my research on both guys. I already know a lot about Savaka. I mean, he is the Intercontinental champion. He’s no slouch in the ring, but c’mon. He’s a peace-loving monk. And Ludwig von Moltbag? What was his name? Never heard of him before. Sounds like a clown with a name like that. I don’t think either really pose a threat to me, but who knows? I could be proven wrong tonight.”

“Don’t get cocky. If there’s one thing I’ve learned over my years calling matches — and I’ve got a few years under my belt — it’s that exactly what you don’t expect to happen… will. You’ll find yourself getting locked in one of Savaka’s holds before long, and then what? You tap.”

“What? That isn’t being cocky. That isn’t being over-confident. Ain’t nobody got time to think less of themselves. To be a star, you gotta’ believe you are one and Oscar sure as hell believes he’s one. The one and only.”

The jobber got the first entrance. Ludwig von Moltbaug was the wrestling persona of a local fixture of the indie scene, a heel complete with monocle, pocket watch, and gold and black trunks. The Praxeological Pugilist, the Arch Grappler of the Austrian School marched his way to the ring with an air dignity and derision for the common men of the arena’s audience, literally turning up his nose at the sight of them as his entrance music played. He stood there in the ring, playing up his mannerisms until his arrogance was practically seeping out of him.

”Jeez, Wade, look at this guy. Somebody call the circus. They’ve got an act missing!”

“Hey, he’s a competitor just like you.” In a surprising lack of professionalism from Wade, there were chuckles laced into what he was saying.

“Damn exhibitionists. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure Ludwig von Moltbaug got some things up his sleeves, but I’m with Oscar on this one. The guy looks ridiculous.”

Savaka’s music kicked in with the sound of Sanskrit chants, and the fog machine induced cloud gave way to show him rising from his prostration at the top of the entrance ramp. He walked to the ring in a measured fashion, eyes closed and hands clasped together, the sign of someone at peace with the world. After both competitors were in the ring, the lights turned on to full brightness and the bell rung, signaling the start of the match.

“Here comes the champion. What an awesome run from him we’ve seen over the past few months. Savaka has a unique fighting style that is unlike any other, and he wows crowds everytime he comes out here, with his ability to grapple like no other can.”

”Was that a challenge? That sounded like a challenge.”

“Those were some fightin’ words! Wade doesn’t think you can get out of Savaka’s Tripitaka Lock, Oscar. You gonna’ let him believe that? You gonna’ let him underestimate your skills?” If there was one thing Kane had a natural talent for, it was egging people on and being a massive troll. But hey, at least he knew how to make the wrestlers look good. All in a day’s job.

”Let him believe what he wants to believe, Kane. Next round of the tournament, I will show him by example how easy it is for the One! And! Only! Oscar O’sullivan to slip out of a Tripitaka Lock!”

Savaka wore a bemused, calm expression on his face, keeping his eyes on Ludwig as both circled. Ludwig threw a wide punch and Savaka ducked it, the follow up also failed to land. Then he grabbed at Savaka’s robe, balling up a portion of fabric in his hand. Savaka grabbed Ludwig’s forearm behind the elbow, and pulled in. A simple wristlock ensued, forcing Ludwig’s palm to hyperextend, and causing him to wince in pain. Struggling got Ludwig a little more distance, but Savaka held onto the wrist and flexed it again, turning it into a different lock. Flipping and rolling around the ring looked impressive, but Savaka followed every move of Ludwig’s and kept the lock on, all showing no emotion. When Ludwig stopped to catch his breath, Savaka pulled the arm wide and snuck his foot behind Ludwig’s legs, then sent him down to the mat with a gentle push from his other hand.

”Nothing Ludwig von Moltborg is doing is working! He just cannot get out of that hold! I guess they didn’t teach him how to escape a wristlock at the nineteenth century steam train museum!

“I don’t think that’s the case — I think you, Mr. O’Sullivan, have been doing nothing but underestimating Savaka all night long. I think that Ludwig von Moltbaug, as it’s properly pronounced, is locked in holds by an expert grappler, and that he’s never faced someone who can lock it in quite like Savaka can. You can’t beat what you’ve never experienced before!”

“Are you insinuating that Oscar won’t be able to take him down? Both of them have been in the business for a long time. The golden rule of life is to never underestimate your rivals, but is it underestimating when you know who you are and what you’re capable of? Hell, Savaka probably doesn’t think Oscar has what it takes either.”

With Ludwig on the ground, Savaka wrenched the arm harder, using his legs and getting low. When Savaka got close, Ludwig saw an opportunity, and kicked him right in the forehead. Savaka staggered and held onto the arm, rolling back and turning it into an arm drag just as Ludwig was using the opportunity to stand up. While on his back, Savaka changed his grip and wrapped his legs on either side of the arm, setting up a cross armbreaker on Ludwig, who anticipated the move and rose to his feet, then pushed down to try and stop Savaka from extending the arm.

”Both men seem to be at an impasse. Savaka’s a fluid, scientific, precise grappler, no doubt about that, but look how he’s been stopped in his tracks from such a simple act of resistance from Ludvig Von Meatbag!”

“Let’s wait and see how this turns out, don’t count the AWE’s premiere submission specialist out quite yet!”

“Hah. Meatbag. I like that.”

”Thank you, Kane. Somebody here gets it.

For a brief moment, Ludwig leaned enough weight on Savaka to get both shoulders down and the referee started to count a pin. Not disturbed at all, Savaka simply pushed out and wove one of his legs around the arm, then sat up to break Ludwig’s posture down. One slight adjustment with his other leg and the Tripitaka Lock was complete, with Savaka sitting in his meditative posture until the quick tap from Ludwig let him know the match was over. He thanked the pouting Ludwig for the match, then did a slight bow before leaving the ring.

“And just like that, we have our final quarterfinals match on lockdown. Next week it’ll be Oscar O’Sullivan vs Savaka, and Gethin Rhys vs Owen Sparks. Still to come tonight: Thunderbird vs Zachary Wake and Chaos Clayton vs the Initiate. Stay tuned!”

“Oh!” Kane wiggled his pencil in between his fingers, before finishing the match with a sell, “If you’re currently subscribed to the AWE network, we’d like to get you and your friends involved in the heat. If you refer a friend to the AWE network, and sign up yourself, both of you will receive a twenty five dollar gift card to aweshop.com! Though, if I were you, I’d refer TEN friends. That’s 250 dollars worth of merch. Yeahhhh boi.”

AWE: American Wrestling Entertainment

Walter

Walter Durrell

---

---

We are as much a part of wrestling as it is a part of us

^{6’ – 160 lbs | 50 years working as a journalist}

---

---

|Birth Name |
» Walter Nash Durrell

|Hails From |
» New York City
» September 19th, 1943 (73)

|Job |
» Journalist

|Skills |
» Writing
» Research
» Interviewing
» Editing
» Entrepreneurship
» Literary Criticism

|Reason for being here |
» Walter started out like many english majors, a fresh graduate from Columbia who had just written a lengthy thesis about the contrasting mysticism of Bataille and Tillich and their influence on Barthes, but was now tasked with finding a job. He became a reporter for the sports column, it was the only opening he could find with one of the national papers. During his years he got to know more about the world of professional wrestling, which got little coverage in major press, unlike other sports. His curiosity led him into an extensive research project about the life of Tanner Quinn. After several years, countless interviews, and many sleepless nights, he had compiled his work into an epic biography, titled The Path of Honor. It became a best-seller, and was one of the few works that revealed the business side of wrestling, penetrating beneath the layers of kayfabe.

With the success of his book, Walter chose not to go back to his newspaper job. Seeing the lack of media that treated wrestling seriously and reported on the stories behind the business, Walter launched a new magazine, The Wrestling Journal. It was popular enough around the nation and gained more respect than the kayfabe magazines, though still made him the butt of jokes with his literati friends. As times changed and the internet grew, he merged his magazine with the online content of The Smark Remark creating a partnership that would carry the Wrestling Journal into the new millennium and maintain its status as the industry’s most respected source of news and opinions.

|Looks & Style |
» Walter dress formally, and loves his outdated style, especially houndstooth patterned blazers. He know he is old and doesn’t bother to hide it, and never kept up with fashion even in his youth. He always carries his notebook and voice recorder with him, ready to start work whenever inspiration hits.

|Personality Traits |
» Walter is a methodical man, and even-tempered to a fault. He gets along well with nearly anyone, and likes long, involved discussions. As he is somewhat of an introvert, he prefers the company of a few close friends to being in a large crowd. When writing he prefers to be alone, and can work relentlessly when researching, so much so that his wife grows frustrated with him.

|Favorite wrestler |
» At the moment, Wally Norton, but it is tough for him to give a definitive answer

|Rep at AWE |
» Often loved and often hated, The Wrestling Journal is easily the most read magazine backstage. Some take offense at the criticism and reporting scrutiny, but those that have been around long enough have learned to respect Walter’s judgment. Obviously, Walter relies on some AWE personnel for many of his stories, but he is always careful to avoid disclosing those who wish to remain anonymous, and they do not advertise it. Because he holds himself to high standards on accuracy (avoiding the highly speculative rumors) and avoids spoiling too many of the plans, he enjoys a friendly relationship with Roddy and the rest of the main office.

|Other |
» Robert Caro

AWE: American Wrestling Entertainment

Walter

Walter Durrell

---

---

We are as much a part of wrestling as it is a part of us

^{6’ – 160 lbs | 50 years working as a journalist}

---

---

|Birth Name |
» Walter Nash Durrell

|Hails From |
» New York City
» September 19th, 1943 (73)

|Job |
» Journalist

|Skills |
» Writing
» Research
» Interviewing
» Editing
» Entrepreneurship
» Literary Criticism

|Reason for being here |
» Walter started out like many english majors, a fresh graduate from Columbia who had just written a lengthy thesis about the contrasting mysticism of Bataille and Tillich and their influence on Barthes, but was now tasked with finding a job. He became a reporter for the sports column, it was the only opening he could find with one of the national papers. During his years he got to know more about the world of professional wrestling, which got little coverage in major press, unlike other sports. His curiosity led him into an extensive research project about the life of Tanner Quinn. After several years, countless interviews, and many sleepless nights, he had compiled his work into an epic biography, titled The Path of Honor. It became a best-seller, and was one of the few works that revealed the business side of wrestling, penetrating beneath the layers of kayfabe.

With the success of his book, Walter chose not to go back to his newspaper job. Seeing the lack of media that treated wrestling seriously and reported on the stories behind the business, Walter launched a new magazine, The Wrestling Journal. It was popular enough around the nation and gained more respect than the kayfabe magazines, though still made him the butt of jokes with his literati friends. As times changed and the internet grew, he merged his magazine with the online content of The Smark Remark creating a partnership that would carry the Wrestling Journal into the new millennium and maintain its status as the industry’s most respected source of news and opinions.

|Looks & Style |
» Walter dress formally, and loves his outdated style, especially houndstooth patterned blazers. He know he is old and doesn’t bother to hide it, and never kept up with fashion even in his youth. He always carries his notebook and voice recorder with him, ready to start work whenever inspiration hits.

|Personality Traits |
» Walter is a methodical man, and even-tempered to a fault. He gets along well with nearly anyone, and likes long, involved discussions. As he is somewhat of an introvert, he prefers the company of a few close friends to being in a large crowd. When writing he prefers to be alone, and can work relentlessly when researching, so much so that his wife grows frustrated with him.

|Favorite wrestler |
» At the moment, Wally Norton, but it is tough for him to give a definitive answer

|Rep at AWE |
» Often loved and often hated, The Wrestling Journal is easily the most read magazine backstage. Some take offense at the criticism and reporting scrutiny, but those that have been around long enough have learned to respect Walter’s judgment. Obviously, Walter relies on some AWE personnel for many of his stories, but he is always careful to avoid disclosing those who wish to remain anonymous, and they do not advertise it. Because he holds himself to high standards on accuracy (avoiding the highly speculative rumors) and avoids spoiling too many of the plans, he enjoys a friendly relationship with Roddy and the rest of the main office.

|Other |
» Robert Caro