Post by Caraid on Mar 20, 2015 0:38:50 GMT -5
Act I “Yesteryear”
Unknown Location – Date assumed to be around 1994
Unknown Location – Date assumed to be around 1994
Our scene never opens; this is not the place where WCF cameramen can follow. This is the mind of a man with many demons. The mind of a man unable to be terrified of things that go bump in the night, because he has met those things face to face and lived to tell about it. No, this is a dream, of events that happened long ago.
We begin with a man we are familiar with, but we don’t fully know. Konstantin Noskov, nicknamed Connor by his Scottish friend today, but long ago this is not the name he was known as. Instead of the familiar outfit we know of today, Konstantin wears tan wool trousers, a white buttoned shirt and tan tie, and a three buttoned tan jacket. Konstantin is sitting by himself, next to a closed door. He stares at a picture we cannot see. A tear rolls down one eye as we are left with only the wonder of his thoughts.
What was in the picture? Who is it? Was it a friend, or a lover? As the tear rolls down his face, he calmly wipes it away, stares up at the wall, and puts the picture away. He places his emotions in check, waiting for the doors to open.
He doesn’t wait long. The doors open and we are greeted by a tall bald Russian man. For the purpose of this dream, the Russian words are translated to English, though still with a thick Russian accent.
Bald Russian: Noskov, they’re waiting for you.
Konstantin stands up, buttons the middle button of his jacket, and looks at the man.
Konstantin Noskov: Thank you, Sergei.
Konstantin walks through the doors, and surveys the room. A large rectangular table, with half of the seats filled. It is a collection of men, mostly older yet tough looking Russian men. The man at the head of the table is gray haired, but cut in a crew cut fashion. His face is clean shaven, and his tailored black suit seems brand new. He speaks with authority, verifying his position within the group.
Leader: Konstantin, sit please.
Konstantin does as told. This was a man who you do not defy the orders of. We all like to say that we would have the courage to defy such men, but it is much different when you are standing in the same room with someone whose aura reeks of evil. Not darkness, not wickedness, but pure unabashed evil.
Leader: As you know, the death of our Pakhan has left a void in our organisation. The Sovietnik are divided on the direction we should take. You are one of the most loved and trusted of the Krysha. Your thoughts mean a lot to those of us at this table. Where do you stand?
There is no room for diplomacy. When a man like him asks where do you stand, if it’s not with him, then you will not walk out of that room. Though Konstantin was a Krysha, an enforcer, he knew all too well that even he did not stand a chance of walking out. He despised the man, he blamed the man for killing those he loved and respected. There was no chance he would join forces with him.
Konstantin Noskov: I quit.
The man’s eyes widen with hatred. The other Sovietnik are shocked, some begin discussing the issue amongst them. The man at the head of the table stands up, both hands still on the table.
Leader: I make you an offer to stand with me as my Kyrsha, and you say you quit? You cannot quit!
He slams his fists on the table. Another of the Sovietnik speaks.
Sovietnik Member: Noskov, you know far too much. It is not that easy for us to let you quit. What if you talked?
Konstantin lowers his head, apparently in though. He could understand their concern. Even though he had never betrayed their trust, the Militsiya were known for their corruption, even worse than most Syndicates. It would not be beyond the realm of thought that they would use what little Konstantin had left against him.
Konstantin Noskov: I will exile myself to America.
Many of the Sovietnik nod, while some still shake their heads. The one at the head of the table, who had been growing angrier by the second, speaks with rage.
Leader: Not good enough!
Konstantin’s head shoots up, his eyes locking on the man’s. Hate and rage in his eyes, matched with more hate and rage in the man’s eyes. What follows is a stare down of hate, anger, rage, and evil. Konstantin’s hands make their way to the waist band of his trousers, were he pulls out a medium sized dagger. All at the table stands, fear in their eyes. The man at the head of the table steps back, and readies his hand to reach for a weapon hidden behind his jacket. With deep breaths, Konstantin knows what must be done. He speaks once more.
Konstantin Noskov: I loved her!
With that final outburst, Konstantin grabs his own tongue, and presses the blade of the dagger against it, slicing as he goes. Tears run down his eyes, not tears of physical pain, but the pain of losing her. The one that mattered the most, and the man at the end of that table took her away. The blood and tears run down his suit as he hangs his head in shame. Not shame for what he had done, but what he could not do. He looks up, hate and rage back in his eyes. He stares at the shocked man, and the Sovietnik around him. He tosses the tongue across the table, landing within reach of the man. Without seeking approval, he turns and walks out of the room.
Thus our dream ends. This was a tale of sorrow, a tale of hate, a tale of loyalty, and a tale of suffering. This was the life of one Konstantin Noskov, a man who is perhaps more known in the new world as “Connor”, leaving behind his past.
Act II “Family”
Econo Lodge West Dodge - Omaha, Nebraska – March 19th, 2015 – 2:15am CT
Econo Lodge West Dodge - Omaha, Nebraska – March 19th, 2015 – 2:15am CT
Still our scene does not open. We instead are greeted with an interior of a hotel room. The room is trashed, full of beer and whiskey bottles. A pizza box is on a table, with only two slices left, flies having laid claim to them. On the floor we find the man whose mind we had just visited, Konstantin “Connor” Noskov. Far from his old life, he now fits the image of a typical biker. His blue jeans and black t-shirt are all that he wears, his vest is left on the bed. It is laid perfectly, and shows the full three piece patch of the Dark Riders Gang MC: Nomad Chapter. He is sitting up, sweat rolling down his forehead. In his right hand is a solid black 1911 Colt Pistol.
It is here that his friend finds him, in this state. Charles “Charlie” Anderson, the man who found Connor at the docks, hungry and alone. This was the man who brought him back from damnation, who for all intent and purposes saved his life. The look on Charlie’s face was not necessarily of shock, but of worry. He spoke in his calm yet heavily accented Scottish voice.
Charles “Charlie” Anderson: Connor, I’m just gonna tak the pistol awa for a moment.
Slowly he reaches for the gun. As he grasps the gun, Connor turns his head and looks at Connor. Tears have been running down his face, mixing in with the sweat. He doesn’t struggle as Charlie pulls the gun away. Instead, the man who had struck fear in the hearts of so many, buries his head in Charlie’s chest. He sobs, nearly uncontrollably. Charlie embraces him, patting him on the back.
Charles “Charlie” Anderson: There, there. I’ve gotcha, brother. I’ve gotcha.
Minutes pass before Connor stops sobbing. He is a man with such sorrow, and unable to tell the world. The pain he must keep inside, no one to ever know. He has now but one true friend left in the world. Connor sits back up, leaning against the hotel bed.
Charles “Charlie” Anderson: Had the dream again?
Connor nods.
Charles “Charlie” Anderson: It’s been awhile hasn’t it?
Again, Connor simply nods.
Charles “Charlie” Anderson: It’s because of that Dark Prince fellah, isn’t it?
Connor simply stares at Charlie. Charlie nods, and smiles.
Charles “Charlie” Anderson: That’s alright, Connor. It’s fine. He canna ken what he’s talking about. He’s trying to take credit for something he didn’t do.
Connor nods. Charlie chuckles a little.
Charles “Charlie” Anderson: For crying out loud, he thinks Andre is Tommy’s uncle!
Connor briefly smiles.
Charles “Charlie” Anderson: There we go. All will be well. This Prince, he’s just trying to get into your mind, into our minds. He’s speaking from his arse!
Charlie helps Connor stand up.
Charles “Charlie” Anderson: Now get yourself cleaned up, we’ve got a long day ahead of us.
This Act come to a close as Connor makes his way to the restroom, and Charlie begins to pick up in the room.
Act III “Caraid”
Farnam Street Chick-fil-a – Omaha, Nebraska – March 19th, 2015
Farnam Street Chick-fil-a – Omaha, Nebraska – March 19th, 2015
Our scene opens with the WCF Camera crew finally tracking down Konstantin “Connor” Noskov, and Charles “Charlie” Anderson just outside of a Chick-fil-a restaurant in Omaha, Nebraska. The two have just stepped outside as the camera crew stops them, shoving the cameras in their face. Connor seems the most annoyed, but Charlie seems to understand the concept.
Charles “Charlie” Anderson: So, I guess you’re here to see what we have to say in response to our opponents on Slam.
The camera man stays silent, but we see Charlie nodding.
Charles “Charlie” Anderson: Alright, I suppose it was bound to happen sooner or later. So what do you want to talk about?
The cameraman does not respond, obviously not used to people talking to him or acknowledging his existence. He doesn’t have to wait, Charlie seems to hear what he’s thinking anyway.
Charles “Charlie” Anderson: Oh, you mean the Ps and Qs? Yea, you’ve got to watch those Ps and Qs. They’re likely to try and say anything to get under our skins. Prince has already sent out his promo video, Connor and I watched that yesterday. Then we wake up this morning to find that Q Balls had one too.
Connor sits on his bike, looking straight at Charlie.
Charles “Charlie” Anderson: The way this is supposed to work, from what Tommy has been telling me, is we trade insults, trash talk each other, talk about how we’ve slept with each others moms, all kinds of school yard stuff. Connor here, he’s not one for sitting around bullshitting though. Even before the incident with his tongue, he never was much of a talker. Actions speak louder than words for him. Can’t say I blame him, anyone can say anything, but few can back it up.
Charlie looks towards the camera.
Charles “Charlie” Anderson: Prince though, he backed up what he said. No one can deny that. He took out everyone but Katherine Phoenix in that match. No one else was left standing. Got to say, that does mean something.
Charlie smiles, causing Connor to do the same.
Charles “Charlie” Anderson: We’re not your average Joes though. We’ve been in more than a few of our own little scrapes. Sure, they weren’t wrestling bouts, but after seeing Prince’s match last week, doesn’t seem he cares to stay with strict technical wrestling either. Bring out the chairs, bring out the chains, the bats, all the fun stuff. We’ve been down that road plenty of times, and we’re still here.
Biggest thing I’ve seen from Prince, is the darkness he tries to show. It’s like everyone, including their cousin’s sister-in-law’s dog wants to do the gothic scary guy gimmick. “Oh, I’m going to talk about the rain dripping and dripping down, and talk about how the world is bad”. I’ve got news for you Prince, if the world is so terrible, then drown your sorrows in a bottle of whiskey like the rest of us.
I don’t care about your poor imitation of Edger Allan Poe, or your thoughts on how we’re doomed so what’s the point? Let me tell you something, if you think all of life is just being born and then dying, then you’ve missed the point all together. You’ve got your eyes on the destination so much, you miss the journey.
Yes, a girl is born, and a girl will age and die just like the rest of us. What you see is the death, the sorrow, the pain. You glance over and miss, ignore even, the laughter, the love, the passion. You miss all those that have come and gone, who shared their life with her. Who she shared her life with; her mother and father, her brothers and sisters, her husband, her children. You see the pain, but you forget the happiness. You forget the smile on her young and innocent face as she sees a cute little creature and yells “Squirrel”. To you it’s all just doom and gloom. What’s the point of it all? She’s going to die one day anyway, what’s the point? The journey is the point you fool!
The camera glances over at Connor, who is simply smiling through-out the rant. Though he smiles, he himself has a mixture of sorrow and joy in his eyes. The sorrow of a love lost, but the joy of having loved at all.
Charles “Charlie” Anderson: You missed the journey, which is why you think us helping out a friend makes us his lapdogs. We’ve got no problem helping out a friend, that’s what friends are supposed to do. Now maybe if you had friends growing up, or that puppy didn’t run away from you, then you would know what that is. So you call us wannabes? Wannabe bikers I think is what you called us.
Charlie and Connor both look at their bikes.
Charles “Charlie” Anderson: I think the definition of “wannabe biker” is someone who wants a bike but doesn’t have one. Pretty sure we don’t fit that definition. Of course, that’s not the only mistake you made. You see, you put on the thick gothic gimmick in the hopes it makes you sound intelligent, but then you go and mess it all up by getting facts wrong. Everyone knows that Andre Bates, that massive giant, is the father of Tommy. Now who knows why the Memphis Giant came down to the ring during Grime’s match? Maybe if you actually did some research on the subject, you’d see that Andre owns the Bates Gym, a training facility. Maybe he’s looking to help Grime out, or maybe he’s taking notes on how the game has changed since he was last in the ring. I don’t know, but I do know this, it ain’t any of your fucking business. But you go right ahead, Prince, and tell that massive Seven Foot Nine Inch monster Tommy calls a father what he can and cannot do. We’ll see where that gets you.
Then you do something even more stupid. I mean something that makes your entire past stupid look pale in comparison. You talk about Connor’s past. You try to make yourself appear all knowing, so you make up a big story on what happened to Connor’s tongue, and you take the credit for it.
The camera focuses on Connor, leaving Charlie to speak off camera.
Charles “Charlie” Anderson: Connor’s past is not entirely a secret, but the details are a bit sketchy, for understandable reasons of course. You see, Prince, Connor has a dark past. All of that doom and despair you talk about, all of that terror and death? Connor fucking lived it. Connor was it. He was high up in a Russian Mafia family, an enforcer with close ties to their version of the “Godfather”. He wanted out, and to reassure the family that he would never rat on them, he cut out his own tongue!
The camera turns back to Charlie as Connor bows his head and simply nods.
Charles “Charlie” Anderson: Sorry Connor. You know what though? We remember the journey. All of that pain, all of the sorrow, we find happiness along the way. I ran into Connor during a dark time in my own past, and he saved my life more than once. I took him in, and extended my hand in friendship. Connor is my caraid, my friend. More than that, he’s my brother. Tommy, Andre, they’re brothers too. We look out for each other, and we’re there for each other. That’s what friendship is all about, and I’m sorry that you don’t know what that is Prince.
Charlie finally moves in to sit on his own bike, still looking at the camera.
Charles “Charlie” Anderson: So you looked into my past too didn’t you, Prince? You saw that I served with the Scots Guard. It was an honour to serve the Queen, and I’d do it again in a heartbeat. It’s not easy adjusting from a military life to a civilian life you know. I found another brotherhood that took me under their wing. Sure, they did things a bit outside the law, but who hasn’t? The law has become so strict against citizens now, it’s likely we’ll be breaking the law by wiping our own arse in the future. I didn’t join that life to make money, and still have little regard for it. It was the freedom I craved. I craved it so much; I wanted to move to the land of freedom. I asked to retire from my Club and immigrated to America. I have to say though, I was plenty fooled myself. I found this country to be even more restrictive. For the land of the Free, there are far too many Rules and Regulations on how to live your own life. I found friends, joined up with the DRG, with the blessing of my old MC. Tommy’s real uncle, Alexander James, asked me to come and work for him at Golanv Enterprises. I took the job, Connor came with me, and all is good. Now I’m in the WCF. I’ve got two jobs were I get to kick the shit out of people, what’s not to love about that?
Charlie simply turns to Connor.
Charles “Charlie” Anderson: As for what you said about Connor. I see a man who has survived when other weaker men would have fallen. I see a man whose hard road has brought him here, with friends and family who will be there for him, and he will be there for them. A man who’s journey could have ended in sorrow and despair, but who rose above it and stands here today as a witness to his own character. I see my caraid.
Our scene comes to an end with Connor and Charlie backing their motorcycles out, and riding off, leaving the WCF cameraman in the parking lot of Chick-fil-a.