Post by David Alastair on Jun 11, 2006 12:08:02 GMT -5
((OOC Note: Many thanks to RJ for the use of Brad Wallace. I know he's not super popular with everybody right now, but he did it to help me out with this RP. Thanks again!))
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With his win over Matthew Draven at last week’s Slam, David’s nerves were starting to come back to earth. The past week was quiet, perhaps too quiet for David’s tastes, pretty much so besides the Creeping Death sneak-attack at the end. However, this proved to be a benefit for David, as he could concentrate on his training and to his eventual match with Creeping Death at Explosion. David also planned to air a segment before the six-man tag match later on in the evening. But before he could prepare for his promo, he missed numerous phone calls for the past couple days. Being out to clear your mind sometimes make one lose contact with the rest of society.
Seated on the bed at a hotel room in an undisclosed location, he picked up the cell phone next to him. Effortlessly, he called the voicemail and entered his password.
Voicemail: You have four new messages. To play your messages, press 1...
Easy enough for the moment, David hits the number he was instructed to press.
Voicemail: New message. Saturday, 3:44 pm. Your callback number is 279-565-8743.
Voice #1: Yo David, this is Brad. Sorry that I haven’t gotten a hold of ya since you first came in to WCF, but I’m leaving pretty soon. Things are getting pretty hectic, and I better bail out of here. I know I brought you here from Japan and all, so I just thought that I’d give you a heads up on that.
Anyways, some dude stopped me the other day. Some huge motherfucker that was looking for you. He didn’t give a name or anything, but he “asked” if I know where you are and stuff. So, watch your back, man. I don’t think this fucker wants to meet you just for drinks and party spots…
Voicemail: End of message. To replay this message----
Thinking nothing was really wrong, David deleted the message.
Voicemail: New message. Friday, 4:12 pm. Your callback number is----
He listened for the number. It seemed familiar, but it was off the top of David’s head.
Voice #2: ‘Ey, Davey. This is Horowitz from the Gym. Some big motherfuck decided to show up and harass me about your whereabouts. I told him that he should mind his own goddamn business, and he pinned me up against the wall. I’m fine though Davey, I just told him that you were living in Jersey. Keep in eye out, kid, you have crazy son of a bitch on your ass…
Voicemail: End of message. To replay this message---
David: Strange…
David deleted the message went on to the next one.
Voice #3: Hey David, this is Megumi. A couple hours ago when I was out, I was stopped by this big, tall guy who asked for you. When I said I had no clue, he flipped out. I don’t know what’s happening, but I hope you’re alright. This guy means business…
Voicemail: End of message. To replay----
David blinked a bit. This was starting to be a pattern. A road even, a road that ended right for him. He deleted the message, and moved on to the next one.
Voicemail: New message. Thursday, 10:34 am. Your callback number is----
Mentor’s voice came over the phone. Her usual calm tone was replaced by a degree of uneasiness. Like something out of the ordinary just happened…
Mentor: David, this is your mentor. I don’t know how, but…he found out where you’ve been for the past year. He showed up and…put me up against a wall. He asked where you are now, but I refused to tell him. After that, he threw me across the room…and held me up again. I’m sorry, David. I had to tell him that you were in America. But please, David, please, just watch over yourself. I don’t want you hurt. But don’t worry about me, just take care of yourself…
David’s eyes shot open. What exactly is going on? Who is this person that almost everybody he knows is getting attacked by? More questions then answers were streaming through his head at the moment.
But…he can’t focus on that right now. Slam will be in a few hours. He needed to focus on the match first, then search for answers later…
He grabbed his gym bag and started to open the hotel door until Kyoko, who was getting ready to go with David to Slam this week, stopped him.
Kyoko: What’s the hurry?
David turned around to face her. She was in nothing but two towels, one draped in a bun on her head and the other concealing herself.
David sighed.
David: I don’t know. People are wondering where I am and everything. But I’ll call them back after the show. The car keys are on top of the TV, I’m gonna take my bike to the arena tonight.
With that said, David exited himself out the door and started on his way. To him, things were starting to get out of hand…
------------------------------------------------------------------------
With his win over Matthew Draven at last week’s Slam, David’s nerves were starting to come back to earth. The past week was quiet, perhaps too quiet for David’s tastes, pretty much so besides the Creeping Death sneak-attack at the end. However, this proved to be a benefit for David, as he could concentrate on his training and to his eventual match with Creeping Death at Explosion. David also planned to air a segment before the six-man tag match later on in the evening. But before he could prepare for his promo, he missed numerous phone calls for the past couple days. Being out to clear your mind sometimes make one lose contact with the rest of society.
Seated on the bed at a hotel room in an undisclosed location, he picked up the cell phone next to him. Effortlessly, he called the voicemail and entered his password.
Voicemail: You have four new messages. To play your messages, press 1...
Easy enough for the moment, David hits the number he was instructed to press.
Voicemail: New message. Saturday, 3:44 pm. Your callback number is 279-565-8743.
Voice #1: Yo David, this is Brad. Sorry that I haven’t gotten a hold of ya since you first came in to WCF, but I’m leaving pretty soon. Things are getting pretty hectic, and I better bail out of here. I know I brought you here from Japan and all, so I just thought that I’d give you a heads up on that.
Anyways, some dude stopped me the other day. Some huge motherfucker that was looking for you. He didn’t give a name or anything, but he “asked” if I know where you are and stuff. So, watch your back, man. I don’t think this fucker wants to meet you just for drinks and party spots…
Voicemail: End of message. To replay this message----
Thinking nothing was really wrong, David deleted the message.
Voicemail: New message. Friday, 4:12 pm. Your callback number is----
He listened for the number. It seemed familiar, but it was off the top of David’s head.
Voice #2: ‘Ey, Davey. This is Horowitz from the Gym. Some big motherfuck decided to show up and harass me about your whereabouts. I told him that he should mind his own goddamn business, and he pinned me up against the wall. I’m fine though Davey, I just told him that you were living in Jersey. Keep in eye out, kid, you have crazy son of a bitch on your ass…
Voicemail: End of message. To replay this message---
David: Strange…
David deleted the message went on to the next one.
Voice #3: Hey David, this is Megumi. A couple hours ago when I was out, I was stopped by this big, tall guy who asked for you. When I said I had no clue, he flipped out. I don’t know what’s happening, but I hope you’re alright. This guy means business…
Voicemail: End of message. To replay----
David blinked a bit. This was starting to be a pattern. A road even, a road that ended right for him. He deleted the message, and moved on to the next one.
Voicemail: New message. Thursday, 10:34 am. Your callback number is----
Mentor’s voice came over the phone. Her usual calm tone was replaced by a degree of uneasiness. Like something out of the ordinary just happened…
Mentor: David, this is your mentor. I don’t know how, but…he found out where you’ve been for the past year. He showed up and…put me up against a wall. He asked where you are now, but I refused to tell him. After that, he threw me across the room…and held me up again. I’m sorry, David. I had to tell him that you were in America. But please, David, please, just watch over yourself. I don’t want you hurt. But don’t worry about me, just take care of yourself…
David’s eyes shot open. What exactly is going on? Who is this person that almost everybody he knows is getting attacked by? More questions then answers were streaming through his head at the moment.
But…he can’t focus on that right now. Slam will be in a few hours. He needed to focus on the match first, then search for answers later…
He grabbed his gym bag and started to open the hotel door until Kyoko, who was getting ready to go with David to Slam this week, stopped him.
Kyoko: What’s the hurry?
David turned around to face her. She was in nothing but two towels, one draped in a bun on her head and the other concealing herself.
David sighed.
David: I don’t know. People are wondering where I am and everything. But I’ll call them back after the show. The car keys are on top of the TV, I’m gonna take my bike to the arena tonight.
With that said, David exited himself out the door and started on his way. To him, things were starting to get out of hand…
