[// OUT OF CHARACTER \\]

Hey guys, just a quick OOC note. I apologize to my team for the lateness and poor quality of this role play, I have had a shocking week. Spent a couple of days in hospital and have had a terrible virus (not ebola lol), plus I've still had to work every day so naturally I feel like death ha. Anyway, I managed to throw a quick something together in response to Kessler and I'm hoping to get another post in before the deadline. Enjoy!

[// END OUT OF CHARACTER \\]

:: It's late.. really late considering I had planned on an early night so I could get one last solid day of training in tomorrow before making the trip to Detroit. I've been trying to communicate with the voices inside my head, though they're just not there tonight. I wish it was like a light switch, where I could just flick them on and off as I pleased but it seems I haven't learned to control when to communicate with them as yet. As I lay on my bed, my head rested uncomfortably on my pillow, I turn to look at my alarm clock.. or, at least what's left of it after the other day. The alarm clock tells me that it is exactly 2:36am. I've been laying here for hours, playing over in my head the different scenarios which might come to fruition at War Games in just two days time. Don't get me wrong, I'm confident. Extremely confident. However, I do wonder where our illustrious leader Eli has been this week. I'm sure he is ready, doing what he feels necessary to prepare himself for the hell that awaits us all in Detroit. It matters little, I find myself thinking. Myself, Evertrust, Ghost Tank, Tyroil - we don't need anybody to hold our hand. It was the truth, for as I had laid there restless for hours on end I often found myself thinking that this task would be no issue with or without Eli. Truthfully, he had already played his best hand in this game of poker known as War Games, when he assembled a team such as ours.

It was true though, that Azrael's team had shown more bark than I had first anticipated, but there bite was still of no concern. I found Aerial Knight & Avery to be quite the comedic duo, although I am still unsure as to whether they realize they are in a wrestling match War Games or if the believe they are entering a tri-wizard tournament. Dragons, honestly. This Jack character is somewhat intriguing but I care as little for his stories as I do piece of gum that I scrape off my boot. This Steven Kessler though - he's got a little bit of something about him. I'm not sure what it is, perhaps it is the similarities between he and myself that I find somewhat entertaining. He talks with a mouth that is like a loaded gun, cocked and ready to empty a full clip into anyone who crosses him. I like that.. it reminds me of myself a little bit.

I feel my eyelids start to get heavy. Finally, I think to myself. I know that any sleep I may get will only be short-lived, such is my level of discomfort, but I will take whatever I can get right now. I close my eyes and concentrate on my breathing. Nice, steady breaths. The room is silent but for the wind that is rapping ever-so-gently at my window. I try to block out all the thoughts of War Games, of my opponents. I forget the voices and just lay there, patiently waiting for sleep to take me. After a few few moments, I can no longer hear myself breathing. The wind has fallen silent and my mind is blank. Sleep, at last, has... BOOM! ::

"OH, FOR FUCKS SAKE!"

:: Something had hit my window. I launch out of bed in a mini-fit of rage and start walking around my bed towards the window. I stub my toe on the foot locker at the end of my bed, pain shoots through my foot and up my leg. I let out a few expletives - quite a few - and limp over to the window. I reef it open and look down to see a dead bird laying on the ground underneath my window, it's black feathers shimmering with crimson blood under the moonlight. Why the fuck would there be a bird flying around at two fucking fifty AM?! I couldn't care less what the answer to my own question was. It's become clear though, that sleep is no longer an option. I slam the window shut, hoping against hope that a cat eats the fucking stupid bird and shits in its nest. I limp over to my bedside table and pull my white iPhone 6 off the charger. The phone tells me it now has 100% battery life - no fucking shit, you've been laying there for five hours. I decide to check out eBay and buy those new Nike kicks I've been after. I start up Safari and it takes me straight to the XWF website where I last visited. I'm about to click on the address bar, but something catches my eye just before I do. There's a link I hadn't noticed before, one relating to Steven Kessler and the main event at War Games. My eyes feel like they are full of sand, but I know I'll be getting no sleep anyway. I click the link and a video starts to load. It's Kessler on some ridiculously cheesy TV show. I sit there in silence watching the interview, the exhausted lines of my face shown in full detail by the flickering light of the screen. After watching the completion of the video, I sit there for a moment on the edge of my bed pondering his words. I decide I might shoot back with a little promo of my own. I exit safari and open the camera on my iPhone. I set it to video mode and turn the flash on. The bright white light blinds me momentarily but my weary eyes soon adjust. I hold the phone at arms length and talk. ::

"Steven, Steven, Steven... what a pair we make. First of all, it's a good thing they didn't have the air-con too high in that studio - it may have blown off all those tickets you have on yourself. You know, I gotta' hand it to you.. you've got style. I've said time and time again that you, more than anyone, have impressed me. You certainly know how to talk the talk Kessler and we all know that is half the battle in this business. Still, you're not without your flaws. I do at times find myself wondering if you're actually trying to be serious or if you're just having a laugh. To come out and say that you're going to beat us at War Games is just ludicrous. I mean, just look at you and look at us. You talk about becoming a monster at War Games in one breath and in the next you're talking sleeper holds and shaking your fists at the camera like an angry hobbit.. hardly intimidating.

Now don't get me wrong, Steven. I like that you're trying.. I like the fact that you are attempting to make a name for yourself by pissing off as many people as possible. I can respect that. You've got a real chip on your shoulder and you're not afraid to let the world know about it. You've spoken about the disrespect you receive from the XWF fans. At live shows, in the streets, restaurants, ball games.. everywhere you go, you hear it. Why? Well, the truth is Kessler, you're just an asshole. I don't mean that in a bad way, but hey, it is what it is. You can call a carrot a peacock but it's still a fucking carrot. Just like you can try and call a muppet named Steven Kessler a monster, but he's still just Steven Kessler and whilst that might be good enough to net you a few wins on the mid-card, don't even dream of playing in the big leagues. You fell into a main event Kessler, as did I, don't go fucking parading yourself around as the future of this company because there is only one man who holds that title and you're looking at him.

It's funny, people say that we are both cocky. That we are both arrogant and you know something, Steven? They're right. But unfortunately for you, that's where the similarities end because I.. unlike you.. can back up every last bit of it. When I say I'm going to do something, it's not because I think I can, it's because I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I will do whatever it takes to see it done. Take War Games for example - I don't think Team Eli is going to win because we might be good enough. I know Team Eli is going to win because every single member of our team is willing to walk through the gates of hell itself and surrender ourselves to unimaginable pain in order to see through what we have started.

You have a team full of pretenders, Kessler. None more-so than yourself. It's a shame - disappointing even. I want you to be good, really I do. I would have even gone as far as to say that I liked you, that I wished you a very successful career warming the ring up for me before I take center stage in the main events. But then, you said it. You trashed the Television Championship, but didn't stop there. You trashed the X-Treme Title and the man who possesses it, the very same man who in less than two days in Detroit will leave you laying broken in a pool of your own blood. Still, that wasn't enough for you. You went on to tell the world how Steven Kessler was gunning for the Universal Championship and Eli James!

Are you fucking retarded? Come on man, every time someone from your team opens their god damn mouths the only thing you manage to achieve is showing the world just how severely deluded you really are. I'm gonna' give you some advice, one rookie to another.. don't flatter yourself with delusions of grandeur. You are not now, nor will you ever be in Eli James' league. Just go ahead and put that Universal Championship out of your mind, because for you it's the unattainable pot of gold at the end of the rainbow; the oasis in the fucking desert. You're not a big-time player, so stop acting like one. In less than 48 hours Steven, inside that monstrous steel cage, I'm going to make an example out of you. I'm going to prove to you and to the world, just how far the "future of the XWF" Steven Kessler is off the mark. Bring your A-Game, your B-Game and your C-Game.. because school is about to be in session and I will show the world why I call Team Azrael, "Team 2.9".. because you're just below average. Take note Kessler and feel privileged because years from now when you're old and grey.. you look back on your life and your wrestling career and you can tell those closest to you that you were the one. You were the first.. the man who started it all! You can tell them how you were the very first, but nowhere near the last.. to take the pledge.. of insanity!"

:: I stop the recording and ended the video log. I email the clip straight to the XWF.. someone there will know how to make sure he see's it. I lay back down on the bed, my head sinking deep into the pillow. My toe still hurts.. a lot. I rest my hand and phone on my chest and stare at the ceiling. Sleep, it feels, is further away than ever as I ponder my fate inside that steel cage. ::