The Dream is always the same. The heat of the lights, the rumble of the crowd. The honor of competing on the grandest stage, in front of the biggest audience. The Fame, Fortune, and Adulation that comes from holding a piece of gold on your shoulder. Red Carpets, Velvet Ropes, and Champagne are the endgame, and so many of those who step through that curtain never make it, never will.

Because Unfortunately...



The Reality...



Is Cruel.



I can't remember how long I've worked this Promotion, looking up at the Glow overhead, or down at the Destruction below. In my time here, I've seen many faces come and go, seen men and women rise, and then tumble back to reality. Its always such a hard Bump to take; and one that many of them never recovered from. Once you taste it, you never want anything else, its like a hunger, that nothing can ever satisfy.

I've been here a long time, and seeing it happen time and time again has made me more than a bit disillusioned. In the old days, a person like me was Golden, not because I held Titles, or Won many matches; it was because someone like me was what put people in those seats. I think that maybe some of those in this organization have forgotten what pays the bills, it isn't fancy costumes, it isn't Scripts or Fancy Camera Tricks, it's the contest. And tonight, I'm going to make sure that people Remember, Remember how important that Contest is, Remember Who I Am, and What one Person is capable of.



Jessica steps through gorilla, an obvious purpose in her step, a man in an ill-fitting suit stands and looks on in bewilderment as she disappears through the curtain, the crowd can be heard roaring in the background, the music thundering over the speakers as the man slowly returns to his seat, his eyes glued to the Monitor.

The Sound of Slamming Bodies and Screaming fans fill the Arena for 30 Minutes, crashing tables, shattering glass, drops of blood spreading across the mat, the crowd can be heard cheering with every thud of the platform, officials rush through gorilla, followed closely by the rest of the locker room. But its only flashes, cuts and dutch angles, bits and pieces; until there is nothing left but Silence.

When Jessica comes back through the Curtain, she's beaten, battered, and alone. Only toppled chairs and empty headsets, scattered voices can be heard through a radio left on the desk; a gold belt drags unceremoniously at her side.

She makes her way through the halls, which at this point are eerily quiet, making the creaking of the locker room door all the more apparent. She throws the belt on the end of the Bench near her bag before stepping to the mirror.

"You Deserve This..."

"You Did What's Right..."

"You Made It Right..."

"You've Fucked Up."

"Maybe I Have..." She says to herself.

She knows that time is against her, it wasn't supposed to go down like that, and she knows it; pounding her fist into the wall of the shower, making a loud metal on metal sound, leaving a noticeable dent in the stainless wall. As she exits the Shower, she finds she has a guest, a young woman with a borderline fearful look on her face.


"What the hell did you do out there?" She is a couple of inches shorter than Jess, Yellow and Black skinnies leading up to a short cut leather Jacket, a Glowing Collar casting a slight Yellow Glow on her face.

"Exactly what I said I was going to do."

The Matter of Fact statement combined with the look on Jessica's face tells the story, the conversation had. A palpable heaviness enters the room as the two look back at each other. The girl shakes her head, glancing at the belt sitting on the bench.

"You Said you were Taking the Belt, you didn't say anything about ending a Kid's fuckin' Career."

Visible Rage wells up in Jessica's Eyes.

"What Career? Kid's Daddy Pays the Big Man a wad of cash, Kid gets a Push, he hasn't earned that Belt, he hasn't earned shit, he has no business here, and tonight I made that clear."

"Yeah Its Real Tough But Thats The Reality, isn't it? Some people are just lucky enough to have that Golden Ticket, us, we're just here to put'em over."

Jessica Scoffs.

"Bullshit."

Jess shoves passed the girl and picks her bag up off the bench and heads for the door.

"Forgettin' Somethin'?"

Jessica pauses, turning her head slightly, the belt glimmering in the shifting light.

"Nothing I'll regret"




The lights of the city shine through the shades of the dusty office, casting rays of light across its length. A Sense of fear hangs over the darkened room, as a man in a Poorly fitted suit paces back and forth, taking fevered drags of a sweaty cigarette. He's been locked in this room for the better part of the night, usually you'd find him in Gorilla, Quarterbacking the Event as it happened, but tonight was different. He has been hidden away in this office since the end of Jessica's Match, something obviously weighing heavy on his mind, maybe its funding, or advertising, but all the anticipation comes to a head as a sound echoes through the room.

*Knock... Knock... Knock...*

He straightens up, taking a final drag of the cigarette before snubbing it out on the corner of the desk, obviously missing the ashtray, the nameplate on the desk reads "Kobayashi Rokuro. Cheif Executive Officer". He straightens his tie as best he can before hurrying across the room and opening the door. As the door cracks open, it is pushed against the wall by a Tall, Wirey Man in a Fitted Black Suit, his head shaved, two Red Dragons adorning his Ears. The next man is shorter, clad in the same attire, but with long flowing Red and Black Hair. The last man to step into the room is the largest, towering over the other two he ducks under the door as he enters; the same black attire, medium length black hair, his eyes hidden behind a set of Sunglasses, a straight bar displaying different lettering.

They push passed the frightened executive, each taking a corner of the room. Kobayashi nervously dares a question... He speaks in broken Japanese, regional to Tokyo.


"Is he Here?.."

The men say nothing, instead the Large man motions for him to sit down behind the desk. He nods his head and makes his way around, taking a seat, his foot tapping nervously against the hardwood floor.

Soon, another set of Men Enter, they are dressed in Hooded Robes, golden dragons displayed on either side, a large Crest is stitched onto the back. They bring with them a Large, Luxurious Chair, placing it in the center of the room. The long haired Henchmen moves around to the back of Kobayashi's Chair, yanking him up into a standing Position as the Robed Figures make way for an older Man, his footsteps echoing loudly as he steps to the center of the room. Kobayashi is jerked down into a Bowing Position, as everyone else in the room Bows to the older gentleman. He motions with his hand, the robed figures shut the door, and Kobayashi is sat back down in his chair. A Few tense moments pass as the two look to one another, the C.E.O. seemingly afraid to make eye contact.


He Stammers, the Old Man's face is stone. He sits quietly, letting Kobayashi continue after a few tense moments.

"You know I would Never--"

The Old Man's voice is deep.

"Sam? She's Gone... Look... I can tell you where to find her, this was NOT My Fault. But There's--"

The Man nod's his head, almost like he already knew what he was going to say.

"Nothing is Ever Anyone's Fault, is it, Rokuro-san?"

Kobayashi nods his head, choosing not to answer verbally.

"The Contract." The old man waves his hand, the Long Hair Henchmen thats been standing behind Kobayashi produces a Document, placing it firmly on the table in front of the frightened C.E.O.

"You are Going to Surrender Your Stake in this Company to me."

The Former Executive quickly Nods, looking down at the Papers, flipping through them, signing them as quickly as he can.

"I-It's My Pleasure Sir... But Please, Listen to me--" He says, the sound of urgency makes its way through, the old man can see it in his eyes. "And the Girl?" Kobayashi reaches into his desk, fumbling through papers for a few moments before pulling a single dossier from the bunch, Jessica's Face and Information.

"Thats all I have on her, there's something.... Wrong... with her."

The man takes the documents; but hesitates for a moment. Looking at the sincere look on Kobayashi's face. He motions again, The large man makes his way across the room, grabbing the paper and leaning down to the old man, who begins to whisper something into his ear. After a few tense moments, the two men begin laughing, he shakes his head at Kobayashi, before nodding his head to the Short Haired Henchmen, adorned in Dragons, he begrudgingly comes off the wall where he'd been leaning and the two head out the door.

"Rokuro... I'm Very Sorry."

"D-Don't Worry Sir, its just... a Company..."

The old man laughs, it only adds more tension to the room.

"No... I'm Sorry you'll be buried in such a Terrible Suit."

And with that, Kobayashi finds himself unable to breath, the long haired goon has a small wire around the Neck, the two struggle as the Old Man looks on, their eyes Meeting as he fights in his final moments, before Long, Kobayashi's eyes go blank, until an accusing stare is all that remains. The goon slumps the body onto the floor beside the desk, tucking the wire back into his pocket. The Robed Figures step towards the chair as the Old Man stands, they take the chair and head out the door. But the Old Man takes his time, looking back into the room, at the man lying motionless on the floor.

"Now, Burn it To The Ground..."
"I really thought I got away with it. Tearing down an entire company, leaving that kid in the ring like that. I should have known, but its so easy to fall into anger. As I went home that night a thousand thoughts raced through my head, none of which were the right ones, I was truly prideful in what I had done.

There was no way I could have known what really happened back there...

who those people really were...

Or What I had gotten myself into.



A Very Easy Mistake To Make..."

The door slides shut, the small apartment is still, save for the TV running in the corner of the room, casting long shadows across the floor. She steps through the room and the lights begin to illuminate, her jacket is thrown onto the couch in the pitted living room. A White and Gray spotted cat steps across the floor, stretching before wrapping itself around her ankles. Suddenly remembering the true injustice of the day!


"Oh I'm Sorry! I didn't leave you any food! That's Me being a Bad Momma..." She soon opens a can of food and places it on a plate, sliding it to the cat that has readily jumped onto the counter beside her. breathing a deep sigh before heading into the bathroom to look herself over, the computer wakes up, queueing up a playlist.



The street below is mostly empty, only a few lights remain on at this time of the night. A lonely delivery biker pedals by as a number of vehicles begin to roll into the small street. As the cars begin to stack up the lead vehicle slowly comes to a stop. As the doors open a flood of men hit the building, pushing passed the gate and a number of frightened residents who quickly move inside their homes.


"The men who came for me that night were professionals, knew where I'd be, and how easy a target it was. An Entire city under their thumb, an enclosed apartment complex. It would have been easy for any group of people to overwhelm a single Wrestler.

But That's Not What I Am..."

The Men stack up on the door on either side, their footsteps hard on the floor. The Music can be heard through the door. They count off on either side, the two front men nodding to each other, and with that, they push through the door. The room is dark, save for the flashing light on the laptop, the music plays loudly over the speakers. They turn on their flashlights, scanning the room in a frantic pattern. Before falling upon the White and Gray spotted cat which is now sitting on the window-sill, the shutters cracked ever so slightly behind her. She acknowledges the men curiously.

Behind Them, a glowing red blade Extends.

The Room explodes into a Maylay of gunfire, flashing lights, and confused voices. The viewpoint shifts, swinging in a single shot around the cat. She remains on the window-sill, cleaning her paw calmly as smoke and the smell of gunpowder swirl around. Behind her, the red blade makes tracers through the darkness, darting from one side of the room to the next, never caught in the beam of a flashlight. This goes on only momentarily, as just as the room begins to fall silent the room is blasted with an overwhelming red light, and the sound of a mechanic woman's voice giving instructions. First in Japanese, then in English.




"PLEASE REMAIN WHERE YOU ARE, SAFETY MEASURES HAVE BEEN ENGAGED IN RESPONSE TO A POSSIBLE TERRORIST THREAT, THANK YOU FOR YOUR COORPERATION."

"Yeah, Fuck That." Jessica says to herself, the sword's glow begins to subside as she tucks it into a holster and slinging it across her back. She picks up a bag off the couch and begins packing a couple changes of clothes, and a couple cans of food into the bag. She runs to the computer, kicking a side panel out of the wall and draws a pistol, an enlarged and modded version of what looks to be a Jericho 941, Extending mag, Large Compensators matching the lines of the pistol, she checks the slide, slamming a round in the chamber. She tucks it into her belt, pulls on her jacket, her backpack and scoops up her cat.

"I'm actually kind of flattered." she says, looking around the room at the sizable force they sent.

The Doors are locked shut and she knows it, the doors are all on the same system and are triggered by the emergency alert program, makes the apartment more of a Jail Cell if you'd have asked. Jess heads for the Window, the shutters open to the Bullet Proof glass. Jess takes a step back before ramming her foot into the center of the window with force, the glass rips from its mount, teetering on the edge. Jessica shakes her head, giving one more solid shot to the glass, forcing it from the remain mounts and sending it tumbling into the alleyway below. The sound echoes for miles against the Tokyo Skyline, a cool breeze hits Jess's face. She can hear the sirens, see the flashing lights, large trucks for the Terrorist Response Team would be here soon. She looked down at the drop, 12 Stories of air. The Cat's eyes grow large as Jess leaps over the edge, using the slight incline of the building to her advantage she reaches up, revealing her arm to be made from a sort of synthetic material, with obvious lines running up and down its length, each designating a different section of the arm.

Reaching up, she digs her hand into the Brick, the lines of arm begin to separate under the stress, revealing her arm to be entirely prosthetic. The skin tone begins peeling off as she makes her descent, revealing the black chorded innards making up the prosthetic muscle tissue.

Slowly she comes to the edge of the incline, it's about a 20 foot drop to the ground, dangling momentarily before letting herself go. Lands as quietly as possible, her legs straining under the impact of the fall. Around the corner the Police and Emergency services have begun arriving on the scene, obvious by the flashing lights and raised voices. Gunfire opens up on the other side of the building, the remaining strike team had begun engaging Police. Her car sits just across the street, where the large piece of glass had crashed against the garbage bins. She sees a group of men running towards her, flashlights dancing across the ground in front of them. She darts across the alleyway, throwing her cat into the passenger seat, her bag into the back.

The Black and Red RX-7 roars to life, a snap, a hiss and a charge. The car reverses hard, sliding on all four tires as it makes the J-Turn into the roadway. Bullets begin skipping off in all directions, Jess ducks against the wheel as the car shifts under the changin G-Forces. Slamming the car into gear and ripping out of the alleyway and into traffic, bullets shatter the windows, sending glass and live rounds into the busy street. Police point and rush to their vehicles as two black vehicles round the corner after her.

Overhead Multiple News and Police Helicopters have begun to converge on the scene, swinging their lights across the road as the cars weave in and out of traffic. Behind them, agents from the Government's Anti-Terrorist Response Team begin to pull into focus. Inside the RX-7, Jess handles the car, swinging it in a serpentine pattern through traffic, her weapon tracking her pursuers, letting bullets fly. Cracking, snaps and loud thuds echo through her vehicle as the men in the trucks return fire. They are also exchanging rounds with the Police units in the back, now sliding through traffic as well, raining bullets from the windows.


"Alright, I'm VERY flattered." she says with a smirk, her cat purrs, seeming unbothered in the passenger's seat.

She takes her hand off the wheel just long enough to steady a shot with both hands, putting out a tire forcing the lead car to slow down, the car behind swerves around, taking primary position. Jess rips the car around a long corner, the wheels break loose. She grabs the wheel with both hands, intentionally overcompensating as the weight of the vehicle is thrown. The car spins across the road, seemingly out of control, the wheels grab just in time for her to make the corner at Hirakawa Mon. The cars behind miss the corner, and are sent up onto the sidewalk, crashing through a number of structures.

In the car pursuing, the Yakuza goons are beginning to concentrate heavily on the cars behind them, the Police are putting up a fight in order to stop these perceived "Terrorists". The lights overhead now locked firmly on the scene between the police and Jess' attackers. A Police vehicle speeds up to take over position but as the driver gets close to the vehicle; heavy machine gun rounds fly from the rear windows, and in moments eat the glass out of the armored Police Vehicle. A haze of white and then red from the driver's side sends the car into a flat acceleration. Climbing up the rear of a vehicle unable to get out of the way in time and crashing onto its side. Sending a shower of sparks across the road.

Up Ahead Jessica can see the next couple of intersections are clear, save for a work crew that is working through the night.

"Of Course that's what's happening"...

She looks behind her, and takes a deep breath. Breaking as hard as the car will allow, it is sent into a slide, the pursuing vehicle just behind can't react, slamming into the rear of the RX-7. The sportscar pulls to the side just enough to be hammered underneath the height of the construction rig. The top of the RX-7 is sent slicing through the windsheild of the BMW, the sound echoes off the surrounding buildings as a plume of dust and smoke begins to fill the air. The Rig teeters back and forth for a moment, before finally tumbling forward onto the remaining vehicles.

The RX-7 is destroyed, the roof completely ripped off, the passengers side door hangs precariously from a single hinge, as most of the front assembly hangs exposed on the pavement. Smoke billows from the hood and trunk, but inside, the seats are empty. But it is now but a footnote in an ever growing scene, fire dances off the winds of the buildings as onlookers begin to crowd the streets.



A Few Hours Later...

The Automatic lights of a large warehouse begin to flutter to life, white walls, basic utilities lined up in what look to be 8 large maintenance areas for some type of vehicle. Across the room, are a set of red and white shipping containers; four wide, three high, and three deep along the wall.

A Large bay door begins to open, as it does, Jess pulls herself underneath. She steps to the corner of the door, double tapping device and closing the door behind her. Her cat stretches, poking out of the open zipper of her backpack.


"Yeah, maybe I should wake up too..." Jessica moans regrettably. She already knows what's about to happen.

Just didn't know what was going to be worse...

The Wrestling Thing...

Or... Everything Else.

She steps to door of the center container, pulling the hinge open and stepping inside. The sound of the door securing is heard in the darkness, then the sound of Machinery. The platform begins to lower, lights on either side of the shaft begin to light the area, a large area is marked out in the center of the platform for large vehicles. The platform seems to be going down in a slightly shifted trajectory. Going on for what seems like two forevers, Jess takes some of the food she packed and begins feeding it to the cat, poking its head out of the backpack.

The Facility is owned and operated by her family, and had been for generations. For as long as she can remember this has been home, whether she's been here or not. Her group oversees the changing of power throughout the hands of multiple different organizations and governments, from the smallest Street Gangs, to the highest Echelons of Society. It has existed in secret, with the funding and authority of governments the world over. If there were people that truly stood outside of the law, outside of societal expectations, it was them. An agency known by many names the world over, with the ability to move heaven and earth if need be, a True Hydra. Her family was just one of many, the world over, generations of people have lived this way. Jessica's branch, Shinjitsu to Yuki, oversaw the region of Northern Japan. It was they who oversaw the Fukushima disaster, this surely wasn't as bad as that, she thought to herself.

As the platform comes to a stop, a man stands in the doorway illuminated at the other end of the dark room. A white shirt over a pair of loose sweatpants. Jessica rolls her eyes as she makes her way passed him.


"So Nothing to Sa--"

"What do you want me to say... Dad?" the exchange echoes for a moment.

Jess scoffs as she makes her way down the long hallway. A number of doors on either side leading to a more open Common Area, complete with a lounge and large computer bank along one side of the room. Sound proofing surrounds the corners of the area. A Small kitchen on the other side of what looks to be a Bar, and dining area. The walls are painted a shade of dark gray, with black accents and chrome accessories. It has a very modern look, fake plants adorn a waterfall built into the wall near the dining table.

A Black and white Husky runs up to greet her as the cat hisses and jumps from the backpack.


"Awwwh at least SOMEONE'S Happy To See Me!" She says playfully, ignoring the man who has now pulled a stool up to the bar. He turns on the Television, which is still covering the fires breaking out downtown, as well as the toppled Construction Rigging and death's of Local Law Enforcement. Showing the moments the vehicles struck the rig, a large explosion, and a cloud of smoke.

"I just think that's REALLY somethin'."

"Well, it was..." she shakes her head.

"So, if you've nothing else to say about that, then what about this?"

He changes the channel, this report is highlighting the fire earlier that night, at the Tokyo Center.

"Forty Seven people Died in that fire Tonight, Jess. They said that somehow the doors had been locked shut, said that an employee of a local wrestling show had gone rogue. Do you understand what that looks like, what I had to do to keep your name off that screen?" his tone growing more angered, Jessica jumps to her feet, the images on the screen are clear, thick black smoke billowing from the building. Fire kicking out a front door, it appears to be shaking from the inside...

"What??" Her eyes glaze over, almost making her seem numb, She sits back down in udder disbelief.

"Jess we have to move you." as the words echo through the room, it brings a heaviness, a heaviness that Jess wasn't expecting. She drops her head, slowly the realization of what had happened comes over her.

"Why? What happened??"

"That Kid you wrestled, what did you do to him?"

Jess turns white, had she really done that much? How bad had she beaten the kid up? She can't remember, with all the officials, and the other men and women in that ring, she lost track.

"I-I-I Don't know..." she stammers.

"The kid died Jess, Oyabun lost his son."

Each word echoed like a drum in Jess' head. Its not everyday you hear you killed the heir to the most

powerful position in the city.


"Alright, so we have to think, I gotta get outta here. Where can you send someone in a situation like this?" Sincere desperation in her voice. He looked at Jess, seeming to seriously contemplate his next move. There was quite the price that would be paid, no doubt. Jess sees it..

"Wow Haru-kun, thinkin' of makin' a penny on your big sister?"

"No, that's not what I was thinking. I was thinking, what can you really do? Where can you Go?"

"Just... sigh I don't know, buy me some time."

The man thinks for a moment, standing from the bar and making his way over to the computer bank. He scrolls through a few windows, quickly making his way passed the administrations screens for the Haneda Airport. He books her an anonymous flight, schedules it and points to the printer.

"That's a one way, United States of America, might as well be Tatooine."

She grabs the ticket from the tray. "It'll feel like Tatooine."

She makes her way into the parking garage, a single lonely car sits idling in the center, pulled up, waiting for her. As she sits down, she puts her bag on the floor on the passenger's side, letting the cat curl up on the seat. She turns to check the back, out of instinct, clear-- Wait... a shiny outline glimmers in the light from the rear window. The Gold Belt... Burned and Curled in spots, but mostly intact. A note crudely stuck to the crest;

"Thought You Might Want This..."

A wide smile breaks on Jessica's face...

Somewhere, her friend is still alive...





The Introduction...

It's been a long time Since I've worked on American Soil, since I've stepped into an American Ring. I've gone by a number of names since I've joined this business, none of which I'd expect fans of American Wrestling to Understand. My name is Jessica Tremor, The Mass Casualty Event, an American Company, Deserves an American Name. In the time I've been gone it seems, the business has changed. Where we find ourselves now is one of the biggest stages a person in our business can hope to stand on, From Washington D.C., to Disneyland. The XWF is known across the nation, and to any person looking to make their name in this industry; its become something of a Haven, a Beacon for those who might not fit in anywhere else. From Men who control Nations, to women with... shall we say, Exceptional Abilities.

I think I've found My New Home.

Some people find this type of promotion as taking the Shotgun Approach, a type of Promotion that seems to throw everything against the wall, just to see what might stick. And from what I see, the people on the other side of this camera are taking to this business model better than most. But unfortunately the model of success hasn't followed many others, all across this nation; people are growing tired of our sport, of this craft, of this Contest. Whether its because of Callous men, a Lack of Creativity, or just disintrest in the Politics. Others, just can't get passed a certain lack of, I guess we'll call it "Authenticity". Some of us on the outside, have found the American Circuit to be something of a disappointment, a punchline of some sad joke. Can I say that the XWF is any different?

From what I've seen, maybe.

How do you follow something like War Games? Some of you it seems, couldn't wait to get on to the next, like something that like doesn't shake you. It's actually the kind of thing I like to see, it gives me hope that maybe this isn't just another "F-word" wrestling show. I wanted to see what the XWF had on the line, and after everything I saw, maybe this place is different. And When Wednesday Night Warfare Returns, we'll find out who's still ready, ready to put on a show, ready to give somebody a challenge. Now normally you would be lucky to be able to thrash one person in the ring for a debut show, so when I heard I was going to have Two people sharing that ring with me, I got a little excited.

Knowing what I now understand about the XWF, the possibilities for how this might happen were endless. I've got Bats, Barbed Wire, and Batteries at my disposal, some will be more effective than others I believe, as I haven't been disappointed at the diversity of the challengers. It's good that I'll be able to put myself to the test against a wide range of individuals in the XWF. And now, haha, after a bit of a card shift, I've the stakes have been raised, and another new face has the chance to step into that ring, and to be honest, I'm kind of surprised. The first two living people that will step into that ring are spectacular. In one corner, you'll have Arcana, and in the other, much to my surprise, is another member of the roster who likes go think of herself as something of a Machine, kind of funny if you think about it. All three of us working against an Actual Machine, a wrestling Bot, built by who, or what the purpose is, is anyone's guess. So, because there's only gonna be one person walking out of that ring, and it's me; No matter what I have to do, or how hard I need to go, I am ready to show the XWF how we do things in the land of the Rising Sun. What kind of things can really be done in front of that crowd. Arcana, and The Latin Submission Machine, the three of us are the only living things in that ring, and you both better be ready to act like it.

The way I see it, the three of us have our work cut out for us this week, the challenge on our hands, isn't the machine, it's the crowd. Its winning the crowd, because its clear to me as it should be to you, that the powers that be in the XWF don't have enough faith in any of us. I understand what its like to be new to the company, but I'm not new to the business. In most situations I wouldn't mind the people underestimating me, it's happened my entire life, but there's a point where you have to draw a line. And the XWF looked at Arcana and I like a couple of Pre-Show Nobodies, Arcana has been here, has connections in this company, and still they put her in a match against what pretty much accounts for a Stairmaster. This is the type of poor booking that can kill a franchise. The people didn't come to see us beat up a Treadmill. And it's obvious, that was exactly what this was, an effort to make a joke out of two up and coming superstars, and another person stepped up right into it. Kind of admirable, why would anyone look at two people eating a shit-sandwich, and ask where to get one? This is the type of mentality coming from The Latin Submission Machine, and to be honest, I kind of like it.

The only thing we can hope is that we can actually salvage some type of a decent match out of this shitshow. So here's my promise to you Arcana, to Robyn, and to the Fans of American Wrestling, I am going to bring Japanese Deathmatch Style combat to the XWF. And on Wednesday Night in the Taxslayer Center, we'll figure out if you're ready. I can't say what I have in store just yet, but if you've ever looked into the long history of Japanese Hardcore, you can probably get a few ideas. So what do you say Girls? Looking at me now do you accept the challenge before you? Can you meet me in that ring to put on a show that the people deserve? To have the Debut match that only we can put on? Or are you just what they say you are, nothing more than a common Magician, or too much of a Traditionalist to meet the demands of the New Generation, or of the XWF, remember, The Action Never Slows Down.

First impressions are lasting, and when you're backed into a corner like we are, you have to go all out. Which is why when L.S.M. tuned in to my broadcast, and actually offered another challenger, I was surprised, and a little excited, here we have a person who looked at bad situation and actually jumped right in, its the type of drive for competition that I respect, too many people are just happy to sit back, to take the easy road, take your nightly checks and the bit of Notoriety the screen brings. But Me, I'm a bit different, I have all the tools I need to bring these people a show, but are you willing to pick them up and put in the work? There was a moment, when I thought that maybe I'd just cancel, but then I realized that there was still something that could be taken from the situation if the three of us can only work together. And I hope that you will, that you are every inch as good as your friends, and can bring something new that these people have never seen before. And as for the rest of the XWF, I got nothing but time, and nothing but energy, and as sure as I'm standing here today I'm coming for each and every one of you. I've got the names, and I've got the list, and I'm not going to stop until I lay each and every one of you in the dust next to this fucked up Peliton!

So you should Thank Vinnie Lane, but you better pray to Baby Jesus, Buddha, or Vince McMahon's quads. Because a new type of person has come to the XWF, and instead of welcoming a new face, they chose to spit in it. And I know I shouldn't be the only one who feels that way. Arcana and LSM just have to be the first, and if they don't want to work together, then I'll have just as much fun working Over them as well. From there its on, onto the next bunch, the next target. So if you're sitting back, listening this, laughing at the low card, I'll tell you to hold that gold a little closer, think long and hard about what this business is really worth to you. Because when you're finally standing across the ring from me, you'll understand what a single person is actually capable of. You'll learn where your own limits are.

Can you tell me Arcana, the last time you were really tested, the last time you actually put something on the line, and had it really mean anything at all? Well now its the shot of a lifetime, the make or break moment of your career, and you've already been set up to fail. But hopefully, between the three of us, a Traditionalist, the Pyro, and the Massacre, Three styles of wrestling completely at the opposite ends of a spectrum. A Match like this has potential, to be a showstopper, it just depends on where your limits are. Because on Wednesday Night, we're going to find them. so where do you go from here? Can the three of us pull something out of this joke? Can WE Walk away laughing? Only Time Will Tell...

Until Then, I am Jessica Tremor, and Yes...

There will be Casualties.



O'Hare International Airport. 11:34pm, Central Time


So it had been a couple of days since she arrived in the States. In just a week Jessica's entire world had been turned inside-out. She had lost her Family of 18 years, her job, and a number of contacts. All things considered, it wasn't too overwhelming. The city gave Jess a way out, one last goodbye gift, bringing her halfway around the world. The United States of America, at least they said it was United. The environment was obviously very charged, considering she was right in the middle of Chicago. But, the new family made it very easy for Jessica to be able to stick to herself. Nothing but time to think, think about what happened that night at the Tokyo Center.

Her body had begun aching, it was so easy to get lazy. But the doctors made it clear, the prosthetic muscle that made up 80% of her body, would break down faster than a normal. Though very resistant to kinetic weaponry, it left in a resting state, mass would decrease. Forcing Jessica to begin spending time in the gym, fortunately the Family had just what she needed.

A Set of what look to be Flat Bench Press bars, attached to upgraded machinery. On the other side were a set of free weights, as well as a training bot. She had stuck a picture of MrBob over its face, as a reminder of what was on the line. It was hooked up to a set of controls, resembling a medium sized gaming device. Made for a user who could switch between multiple different fighting styles. The Card for the Upcoming Wednesday Warfare was pinned to a bulleting board in front of the row of Benches. She had looked into the other two women who had answered her challenge the night before. a Traditionalist and a Pyro, definitely a good set of people to break in with. She had started using the bot, but could only use it for single automated spots, as finding someone to actually use the bot to its potential was proving to be difficult.

She had been wrapping up on the Bench as she heard the bay doors open. The echoing machinery could be heard throughout the facility. The facility floor outside of the Gymnasium was a large Rotunda, with a simulated sky dome in the center, a large Hologram casting a tree stretching up through the center, that would change season to season. The sound of birds and water would play during the day, while crickets and coyotes would play at night. But the door was very obvious against the peaceful framework.

As the single motorcycle rolls into the lot, a knowing grin crests Jessica's face,

Hannah Warr had arrived.




"You have no idea how good it is to see you!" Jess has stepped over to the parking deck of the facility, the girl places her helmet inside the locker.

"You didn't think I was dead, did'ya?" the two share a laugh, Jessica nodding in irony, "Yeah... stupid."

"So, what you been doing out here, looks like they hooked you up, new face, new Name, didn't think I'd even recognize you." Jessica laughs off her statement, it would have been very easy for her to change, it still would be. But she saw no reason to, a spot here, a spot there, but nothing like an overhaul.

"What and end up O'in'down. It's not gonna get like that. Its for touch-ups, I'm not trying to turn myself into some kind of scary monster."

"Yeah ya know, I thought maybe you would, just to fuck with me." Jess Scoffs.

"What can I say, I'm boring."

Hannah lays a flier for the newest XWF card in front of her. Bottom of the card reads what Jess already knows, Her, Arcana, and the Bot.

"Yeah, what can I say, its a whole new place, a whole new me, why not try and bring a little bit of what I lost here. I came all the way around the world and I want to see what these guys on the American circuit have to offer."

"I guess, just be careful about what comes with it."

"Yes, I got it, Now, will you please stop, its good to see you. But I have to shower, if you want you can some through the apartment, They set me up with a nice sized room.

"Yeah, I guess I'll see what they gave you, then I can bitch about what they gave me."

Across the facility square is the living quarter. A space for housing the different assets that worked throughout the region, also operating is a hospital and safehouse for Nomads. The Chicago nest was busy, as assets on the ground were hard at work with some type of operation, vehicles were always in and out. Jessica never found any reason to conversate with any of them, nomads only worked for the money, some were "Full Bio" others were assets from various Families who had been exiled, either because of patterns of misconduct, or unregisterable upgrades, they were unable to exist in the Funded Family Units.

Jessica lived on the top floor of the building, the hallways were steril, clean, almost solid white except for the black accents at the top and bottom of the walls. The door worked on a biometric system, she had to press her hand flat against a touchpad, and the door slid open. The two enter the apartment, and Jessica vaguely motioned at the space.


"Don't take it all in at once."

A Single room, tall ceilings, a set of floor to ceiling screens along the far wall simulated a scene, it was a wall with a view of a mountain landscape. Wind chimes, the air began blowing, simulating an open window. It took Hannah by surprised.

"Actually they are way better than I thought they'd be."

The room had a pitted sitting area, gathered around an entertainment center, a large computer set up along the far wall. Jess again motions for Hannah to make herself at home. The door closes behind Jessica as she disappears into the Shower, Hannah makes herself comfortable, placing her laptop on the table and flipping it open. Her eyes dance from one side of the room to the other, just for an instant, it looks like one of her eyes is flickering, the ever so slightest traces of light.

Soon, Jessica emerges from the bathroom.




Still drying her hair with a towel, dressed in little more than a bra and cut off jean shorts. Hannah chuckles to herself in the corner, drawing Jess' attention.

"So, looking at this here, I am to believe that instead of giving you an ACTUAL PERSON to fight this week, the XWF Gods have decried that "Jessica Tremor" will make her debut, fighting a Robot. Are They--?"

"Ribbin' Me? They've gotta be, I saw that shit and just knew, oh my god... it's a work."

"Yeah Bigtime, what in the hell is going on over here. Who is this other poor person they have you with?"

"Arcana, I think she rolls around with that other 'cana person, I think they're uhhh, ya know like those guys, uhhh '17, Koshigaya Station."

"Oh you mean you think they're like... Hannah begins, finish with a descriptive Doge-esque ear scratch.

"Yeah."

"Well, what does SHE Think of you guys possibly getting absolutely beasted by XWF's Jobbomatic 3000, OH! Maybe I should Say Bobbomatic 3000. As his names fuckin... Bob."

"I got with the Mechanic, we sent her a message, turns out there's more people in this country that love a good contest. One of those Lucha-Chicks jumped in, said she wanted to "Help Out". So now it's looking like it might be a Fatal Fourway, instead of just two people and the JoBot. "

"Well do the best you can with it, because it's either this or nothing, you could wrestle in the Indies all day, those kids don't mind getting destroyed weekly, and you probably wouldn't call up so much notoriety, those guys are still looking for you, Sam."

Jess is taken back, it's been a couple weeks since she's gone by that, used to be a nightly thing. The boys in the back, not all of them were bad people, and some of them didn't deserve what happened to them. A tinge of regret creeps over Jessica as she thinks of it, remembers the fire, the visual of the door shaking violently from the inside, she quickly shakes it off and changes the subject.

"Yeah I don't know what I'm gonna do, guess I'll have to just fight the Robot, I mean how hard can it be? Its like taking apart any piece of equipment, just find out what makes it tick and shut it off, speaking of which, have you talked to the Mechanic since you've been here?"

Mechanic - A Handler of sorts, the lead operator outside of one's original family unit. Assets on the ground fall under the jurisdiction of the mechanic, they find work, housing, transport, and funding. Each region will have its own Mechanic, under them are the Fixers and the Dealers.

"Nah, haven't seen him."

"Its a Her."

"Well okay, but that can wait, I really want to see what you're gonna do about this, you broke a kid off for Not Being Good Enough, now you're fighting an ACTUAL Joke Match."

"Yes, goddamn, I know. Like what should I do? Haha, walk into the boss' office and tell him Fuck that Match, I'm not gonna do it?"

"Tough decisions all around I guess."

"Look, even if it is some type of AI Algorithm, these things are kind of adaptive, but at the end of the day it's just another piece of equipment. It's literally just a training bot that walks to "Intergalactic", are you kidding me? I'm so glad I was able to get in touch with Arcana, the Lucha-Chick Too, see if they think this is as much of an insult as I do, maybe we have a shot, if they are as hungry as they seem. Just a matter of getting the bossman on board now, but thats always a big toss-up."

"Damn, it does actually walk out to "Intergalactic, doesn't it. I thought you were fuckin' with me. Hannah says as she scrolls through the XWF Pages.

"No dude, I'm not kidding, it's a full on Joke, a work, a rib; It Can't NOT Be. Why can't you set a couple of people up together, and then you could have the Robot beat up a couple vehicles or something like a Monster Truckasaurus. Like how are you going to have an exhibition like that? How are we supposed to be taken seriously in any context after that? We're fucked, we're dead, how can we save ourselves out there? Go out there turn the Jobbomatic off and then what? Might as well just beat the ever-loving piss out of each other at that point. Ya know what I mean?"

"What else can you do? Thats the only way you're gonna fuckin' get over.

"I don't even know if we can get over like that?.. Like I might have to straight pull a table out of my actual ass or something. It's not good, we're not in a good situation. The People see the promotion already doesn't see you as more than a Pre-Game Joke, and I understand being new to the company and having dues to pay. But come on, at least give us something we can work with. Like triple threat, fatal fourway, five on five, whatever, I'll come out and I'll work your matches, but don't treat me like this, it's not a good look for the company, or the people doing it, I don't know what they don't understand about it."

"Well you probably just nailed it, you guys are brand new. Might as well fuck with you a little bit. I'd be mad too, but what you going to do? Are you REALLY going to go into that man's office and tell him you're not going to show up? I know you too well for that, nah, you'll go out there and rip that bot in half. Where the match goes from there is absolutely up to the three of you, but if it was me I'd go full Korakuen. You still got those Jumper Cables you used on Tsukamoto?"

"Holy shit, that guy was absolutely amazing. I can't believe we got away with that shit."

"Well you didn't we got chased out that night if you Remember."

"You ran from those assholes, they never ended up doing anything, they were just some drunk kids. But Yeah, I will definitely have to get creative in there if I'm going to salvage any sort of face from this atrocity."

"Dude, what if the Bot Malfunctions and it starts like, beating the shit out of the crowd." Both Jess and Hannah burst out with laughter, Jess' eyes begin watering as she tucks her face into a pillow.

"Then the people waiting... to the have the shit beaten out of them... will witness me die in that ring."

It takes a couple of seconds for them to pull themselves together, Jess breathes in and out, trying to calm herself down.

"Okay, you're right. I probably wouldn't have called out of the match, but I definitely am going to have to get creative, more creative than I've had to be in a minute. We need to do some research, look into Arcana and this... Latin Submission Machine. Kind of funny, we go from arguing over one Machine, to accepting another person who Identifies as one. But whatever, at least she's an actual competitor. At the end of the day there are only going to be two other living people standing in that ring."

"Whats the point, just go in there, ruin BOTH of them."

"Yeah definitely, work with them as long as I can, after that, all bets are off."

"Does The Robot Cut Promos?"

"Jesus Christ, ya know I don't know. Watch, it'll probably walk out all Robotic as fuck, turn to the Camera, say something like "ENGAGING.PROMO.MODE", and proceed to start talking like a normal person for like 15 Minutes before shifting back into its Robot Mode and awkwardly tumbling off stage. Watch that fucker'll start T-Posing or something."

"Oh My God, if he starts T-Posin' in the ring, grab that thing and hit someone with it!"

"Speaking of which, they got a training bot downstairs, it looks like it would be a bunch of fun! You wanna grab that controller and try and beat my ass with that thing?."

"Uhh, Yeah I do. Like right now?"

Jess nods eagerly.

"Yeah, if you think you want that to happen to you." Hannah closes the laptop and puts it on the table next to the rest of the computer stuff.

"Dude, it's literally so weak, watch I'll show you how much of a joke it is."

The two head out the door and disappear into the hallway.



MATCH #1:

ARCANA
- vs -
MR BOB
- vs -
JESSICA TREMOR
- vs -
LATINA SUBMISSION MACHINE

Match Stipulation:

1 RP - FATAL FOUR WAY MATCH