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Post by Ben Jacobs on Sept 4, 2009 11:27:00 GMT -6
Post RPs below.
2 point early rp bonus for each wrestler's first rp which scores above 10 and is posted prior to Tuesday, September 8th @ 3:30 PM CST. (Board time)
NEW RP DEADLINE:[/u]
MONDAY, Sep. 14th @ 11:59 PM CST (board time)
- The reason for the new deadline being on Monday now is to give everyone a full day (Tuesday) to be able to write matches & segments without worrying about the rp deadline.
Match & segment deadline is Wednesday, Sep.16th @ 10AM CST. (board time)
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Delilah Ghost
RCW Headliner
Yapple dapple, bebies, yapple dapple
Posts: 104
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Post by Delilah Ghost on Sept 13, 2009 14:16:00 GMT -6
((did everyone else have a miserable week too?))
Clad in jeans, sneakers and a plain white tee, Delilah sits atop the fence. A newspaper is draped over the fence next to her. She alternates between taking a bite of the nectarine in her hand, looking at her watch, and gazing off down the Vermont forest road that stretches off into the distance.
"It's never gonna get here," she says with a sigh.
"So, O RCW faithful, we shall fritter away the time with a bit of trash talking and so-called humor as we wait for something that should have been here DAYS AGO! Grrr! Arrgh. Much gnashing of teeth. At least I have the memory of dropping ol' SpongeBomb on his head to make me smile. As well as the memory of Mikey putting a little pain and suffering into Pain and Suffering to make me...wait...nevermind," she adds with a eager sort of grin. She shifts the nectarine to her other hand, licking the juices from her fingers with a faraway look on her face.
"Aaaaaanyways, where were we? Oh yes, on the way to Southern Dynamite, that's where." Delilah tosses the nectarine over her shoulder and picks up the newspaper. "Exciting little show we've got coming, I'd say. Nate Sipes and Firebomb, go Nate! And Puck versus Alex Crowe...hopefully Puck destroys that bastard, even if that does end up with me going up against Puck. Oh! And we have Ase and Hollywood going at it in the Main Event. That'll be a good one. On the other hand, I find myself wanting to cheer Peaches himself and that makes me feel kinda dirty. In a bad way. Like I need a shower."
Delilah looks off into the distance for a moment, sneaking yet another glance at her watch. "I'll probably have to take a shower after watching Mikey demolish Sam Suffering too, but for entirely different reasons," she says with a wink and a grin. "I have SUCH a one track mind today."
"But in the meantime, between here and there, is The Dandy Jonathan Page and the always entertaining, devilishly charming, good when she's good and better when she's bad......me. Yeah, I know I'm full of it. Apparently when the card was announced nobody told Page where the standard 'Things I Hate About Delilah' promo script was. Don't believe me? C'mon. Go back and watch everything that every opponent I've ever had has said. It gets pretty standard after a while. Me? I just ramble on about whatever pops into my head, fill up a car with nacho cheese and tell my opponent how much I will enjoy being the girl that just kicked your ass. There's something about that look of defeat while the ref raises my hand and you go 'dude...I just got beat up by a girl'. Deeply satisfying, especially if I don't like you."
"And you? Well, my Dandy friend, I have no idea if I like you or not. Haven't really seen much of you since I've been back, and I don't remember if you were here before. You're pretty much filed under 'Next up' and that's it. Kind of...well...lacking, I want to say. Hopefully we can put on a bit of a show at Southern Dynamite and keep you from getting kicked to the curb. That way, at some point in time we can have another go 'round and I can put you on your ass again. Sounds good to me. You?"
Just then, engine noise can be heard in the distance. It gets louder and louder until a dirty blue pickup comes into view, pulling a trailer carrying a tarp-covered object. Delilah hops down from the fence, jogging over to the gate and pulling it open. After several minutes of careful maneuvering, the pickup backs the trailer into the driveway and stops. Delilah gets up onto the trailer, untying the tarps and pulling them off. She stands there, grinning, patting the front fender of an old green pickup. "Nineteen fifty-one Dodge. It's christmas in September, it is. Now be off with you. I've got some tinkering to do." She blows a kiss to the camera with a grin and a wink, as the picture fades to black.........
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Post by High Society on Sept 14, 2009 15:59:40 GMT -6
What a difference a win makes. The sense of pure relief and rejuvenation one can derive from just one victory. A simple three count and Father Time cuts a far less imposing figure – arms retreating, shadow dissipating. A weight had been lifted. Order had been restored.
He needn’t have worried. It had always been this way. He’d endured many peaks and troughs during the course of his career – times of great prosperity and success punctuated by periods of grave misfortune. The latter always took its toll, a frustrating quagmire in which the taste of defeat became so disconcertingly familiar he almost found solace in its consistency. Losing streaks? Bad karma? Whatever it was it certainly had detrimental effects on one’s psyche. In the end there was always the light at the end of the tunnel, always a way out, and once this path was successfully navigated one could afford to look back at recent hardships with a sardonic smile and a disbelieving shake of the head. And yet when you were in the middle of it all it was so utterly demoralising. It felt like there was no way out. Like you were finished. Washed up. You knew this wasn’t really the case, that your luck would change eventually, but how long would people keep faith? How long before the scepticism of Joe Public manifested itself in substandard performances, missed opportunities. Self-believe was Page’s greatest asset. Without it he was vulnerable. A law unto himself.
And so a seemingly rudimentary victory at Southern Dynamite took on a far greater significance in his mind. It was a return to form. A message of intent intended for the naysayers and the doubters. Critics had long been the bane of Page’s life, casting aspersions about his credibility as a performer, reprimanding him for his supposedly “underhand” tactics. Well, he’d shown them. They’d written him off before and no doubt they’d do it again but for now he was riding the wave of his recent success. Nevertheless, with only a solitary victory supporting any claims of a resurgence in form he would have to keep up the momentum. Another impressive performance in the Pure tournament would surely silence his detractors and give him a bit of breathing space. However, as Page began to prepare for the challenge ahead news of his next opponent took him aback. Any preconceived notions he may have had about his second round match went out the window when it was announced that “Dandy” Jonathan Page was to square off with Delilah Ghost…[Jonathan Page, resplendent in satin robes and jewellery, sits on a throne positioned in front of a black backdrop emblazoned with the RCW logo. Scarlet sits at his feet gazing up at him aodringly]JP: You know, professional wrestling really is a mug’s game. A tawdry game of chance in which one sacrifices their physical and mental wellbeing for the sake of a cheap pop and a small payoff. Since the dawn of time man has found entertainment in the degradation of others and just as the Roman’s exploited the social outcasts of their day so too does the western world take advantage of the weak and vulnerable. And so it is that we find countless numbers of volunteers, eager and willing to crash their skulls together and make an exhibition of themselves in the vain hope that someday they will be acknowledged for their commitment to entertaining the masses.
[Page shakes his head in disgust]JP: Well not me. I for one will not allow myself to be manipulated in this way. This business does not own me. I am my own man. People often ask me, “Mr Page, you’ve enjoyed success all your life. What’s your secret?” The answer: Longevity. There’s very little point getting involved in this business if you don’t have a game plan. Right from the beginning I knew that if I was going to achieve anything in this industry I had to get to the very top and do my damndest. You must understand, I have used this business far more than it has ever used me. Used it to raise my profile in this godforsaken country. Used it to sustain myself financially. Used it to teach valuable lessons to the hundreds upon hundreds of vulgar creatures that have passed through its doors during my time.
[Scarlet catches Page’s eye. He twirls a strand of her hair between his fingers absentmindedly]JP: The reason I am still enjoying life at the top of the pile while many of my peers, some of whom purport to have been better technicians or more able athletes, sit at home nursing career threatening injuries, sipping soup through a straw is because I do as much of my business outside of the ring as I do in it. You do not survive a decade in this business by punishing your body. I am a great believer in the old adage “live to fight another day”. Oh yes, there’s nothing more cunning than a Yorkshireman. That said, having enjoyed an incredibly easy path into the second round of the Pure tournament I was rather looking forward to the challenges the next match might pose. Imagine my consternation then, when I learn that the powers that be expect me to square of with a… a… I’m reluctant to flatter Delilah by calling her a lady – but… but a woman nonetheless!
[Scarlet puts a hand to her mouth to stifle a giggle]JP: Now I understand that the cultural differences between the United States and Great Britain are vast but I never for one moment thought that the American people would entertain such a barbaric notion as a fistfight between a man and a woman. Where I come from we treat ladies with the respect they are due and although Delilah’s willingness to engage in such a spectacle would normally preclude her from such gentlemanly conduct I must stand by my principles. So to make it perfectly clear to everyone watching, the scheduled match between Delilah Ghost and myself will NOT take place. In an industry that so very rarely demonstrates any signs of class or dignity I will lead by example and insist that no woman, even a woman of ill-repute, shall be manhandled by any man on the roster. Without are principals what are we but savages? [Page sighs heavily]JP: Now, I have come to the conclusion that regardless of the ethical aspects of this situation the young lady in question has invested a lot of time and effort into this tournament. True, maybe she could have acquitted herself in a manner befitting a lady – a cookery class perhaps… or a sewing project! – but I am a noble man and a fool where a pretty face is concerned and hard work should be commended even if it is misguided. That is why Delilah, against my better judgement, I have decided to compensate you for your withdrawal from the Pure tournament. I’m sure you could do with the money. May I suggest you put it towards some nice clothes… or a handbag perhaps? Just promise me you’ll leave the fighting to the men because I fear that until you learn your place you’re in great danger of losing those good looks. You see you’re not dealing with the usual Neanderthal that stalks those backstage corridors at the Boys and Girls Club. No, Jonathan Page is a gentleman, a noble man, and just a few short weeks away from being recognised as the undisputed winner of Razorback Championship Wrestling’s Pure tournament. Now if you’ll excuse me I have a real lady to focus my attentions on.
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