Post by somethingwicked on May 18, 2020 11:40:59 GMT -5
Then
Seated in a large office, Special Agent John Rancor can be seen. His posture terrible, his face tired, and the two men standing before him, his superiors, aggravated. His eyes glazed over and shifty, he replays the occurrence in his head, ignore their questions about what happened, and answering his own questions, which is how. He is brought back to reality by the slamming of a hand against a table, and his eyes meet that of the man responsible.
“Am I boring you, John? Because If I am, tell me. I’ll make it more interesting for you. For instance, instead of asking you how you could be so god damn stupid as to bring this guy in prematurely knowing his connections, I’ll say something like, Since you’re grossly inept at your job, We’re gonna take it from you.” He waited for John to respond. But there wasn’t one. He just kept staring. Unblinking. Unphased. Not scared at all. A knock at the door attracts all attention except for Rancor, who never drops his gaze. His forehead wrinkles as a rage builds inside him that he has to fight back from giving into, but is too busy just attempting to not show it.
The man who knocks enters and the tone of the room changes. He nods toward the door and clears the room of the other agents. He then allows another man to enter, before closing the door and standing outside it. The man, tall, broad, and blonde, looks as if someone had created Ivan Drago to be more intimidating. He removes his jacket and reveals a button down shirt that isn’t too small so much as he is too big. He places his badge on the table, and Rancors face alters immediatly.
“John, yes? My name is Bjorn Fior. Special Agent, much like yourself. But as you can see, I work mainly with a section of interpol that you’ve not heard of, because you shouldn’t have. I am here, because you may have discovered something which interests me greatly. Xavier Wolf.”
John looks down at the agent's hand and sees him offering a cigarette from a silver folding case. John accepts and lights it. Both men exhale large amounts of smoke, and John leans back, licking his dry lips while nodding.
“So this asshole, he’s international, I take it?” John says, in between pulls.
“Before I divulge anything. I need to know. Why did you pick him up?”
“...I believe he is a large piece of a very well oiled pornography ring that has been at war with another such ring for the past few years. The ongoings of which have included but are not limited to, murder, extortion, and-”
“Yes, I know. I’ve read your files and reports. I am not asking what he has done. This I know. I am asking, why did you pick him up? What cause did you have?”
“...I just wanted to slap the cuffs on someone, anyone, for all of this. I’ve been busting my ass on this case for so long. I guess I just got tired of waiting.”
“Mistakes like that are not ones we can afford, Mr. Rancor. I tell you, I knew of one such case. I had been tracking this thief for so long, that it was almost as if we had become friends. I’d look at his works and laugh, as if he was a scamp, yes? Silly boy, stealing the money. When I did catch up to him, after many years, I refused to believe I had gotten the right person. This could not be my scamp? My greatest rival. This was just a man. Because of this, he gets away. I never see or hear from him again. It was difficult for me to swallow. So I understand what you are saying.”
“It felt good to see him in the trunk. Trunk is what we call the wagon.”
“I am familiar.”
“Of course, Once we got him back to central, he was only in the building for 5, maybe 6.”
“Hours?”
“...Minutes.” John leans forward, resting his head on the table and banging it slightly. John sat back, the cigarette clenched between his teeth, and looked out the window. His eyes squinting to accommodate the sun reflecting off the silver paint on the roof just outside. “5 god damn minutes.”
We transition to an interior shot of a dark room with all leather furniture. Women of different races and sizes and shapes crowd the room, with Johnny Stylez seated at the desk in the middle of the room. The doors open and in walks in Xavier Wolf. His swagger untouched by recent events, or any event ever for that matter, he pushes past the crowd, and approaches Johnny. Johnny, who clears the room the second he sees Xavier, reaches behind him and grabs a bottle of very expensive, very old whiskey, and two glasses. Sitting on the couch, the two men lean forward on their knees, and each down their respective glasses, before refilling them and sitting back.
“Rancor again?”
“Always.”
“Fuck. This guy don’t quit.”
“He would’ve if you paid him off like I advised.”
“Guys like him don’t got a price, Xavy.” Xavy. Johnny’s weaponized nickname for Xavier.
“They do if you ain’t cheap.” Xavier smirked. Johnny didn’t like the word cheap. He wasn’t cheap. He jsut didn’t like wasting money on useless shit unless, and these were his words, it could suck a dick.
“So what’d you tell him?”
“Nothing. ‘What ya tell him’. You fucking serious?”
“Alright, alright. Let’s discuss the other side of shit. What’s the plan for the princess Riggs?”
“I got a plan. Its so fucking good I almost wan-”
A sudden knock at the door distracts both men, not because of it being unexpected, but because of the authority in which it was delivered. It was angry. And it was loud. Xavier puts his hand on Johnny’s chest, as Johnny begins to reach for something. Xavier shakes his head and flashes a look. Johnny and him exchange a few expressions, silently communicating to one another. Xavier calls out, a smile easing across his face.
“Come in.” Xavier calls out, sitting back and trying to look non-defensive, with Johnny looking aggravated with every fiber of his being. The door opens, and in comes a very calm, very serine looking Vincent ‘Black’ Wolf. Dressed in an all black suit with matching shirt and tie. He doesn’t rush into the room, as one would expect. He instead meanders. He looks at the walls, at the decor, and at the two men seated on the couch before him. They both smile, shocked at the bravery, or lunacy, of their visitor/brother/employee.
“What do we owe the pleasure, Vin?” Johnny says, pouring himself and Xavier another glass.
“I was thinking about things. Our thing “ He says in reference to wrestling. “This thing.” He says in reference to the beef between Xavier and himself. “That thing.” he says in reference to Johnny. “And a funny anecdote came to me. One I figured I’d go out of my way to share with the two of you.”
Laughter emits from Johnny, but Xavier remains silent, somber. Almost studying his brother for some sort of tell. As if he didn’t know them all already.
“Voo and I spent a year practising orgasm denial. It goes against the very idea of what sex stands for of course. The drive to cum, to finish the process. The joy that comes with it. To deny yourself that, it’s odd. But what we discovered was that by getting as close to completion as possible, and then holding off, it made each subsequent effort that much more enjoyable. And when we did finally finish, when we reached that pinnacle, that moment of pure joy, and finally reached the end of what we had started...It was the greatest feeling in the world. To be free of it. It was unlike anything we ever felt before. So much, that we stopped practicing, and mastered it. Now, our orgasms are ours to control and dictate at our will. We control when the end comes by mastering the act.”
“What the FUCK does this have to do with anything?”
“Xavier will explain, since the only lines you can see between go up your nose. Unless…”
Xavier’s expression drops. And his teeth clench.
“Good day, gentlemen.”
Vincent leaves the room whistling a tune that further aggravates Xavier further. Johnnny, smirking still, looks to Xavier.
“What the fuck!?”
“He’s telling us that he’s biding his time. That he can wait it out, as long as we can, but when he does finally get us where he wants us, he’s gonna make damn sure he finishes it. When he busts his nut, it’s gonna be big, and it’s gonna be all over us.”
“...what’s with the whistlign?”
“That’s for me to know, and for him to get his teeth knocked down his throat about later.” Xaver stirs in his seat, before leaping up and heading out of the room.
“OH! Wait...Where you going?”
“Stretch my legs.”
“We got shit to discuss!”
“Johnny, I just spent 4 hours being yelled at by Rancor in a fucking cell, Now this shit. I’ll be back.”
Xavier storms out of the room, and slams the door behind him. As we follow him down the hall, time comes to a crawl, and his voice echoes out from beyond our sight.
“The difficulty of forming relationships in this business is not starting them, but the inevitable end of them. Friends become enemies. Lovers become nemesis. It’s a part of the dance. Even for Wolves.”
“Allison Preston Riggs. Daddies little girl. You’ve come a long fucking way in this business. Remember when you were laughed out as being the least of your family who anyone thought could make it? Remember when you were constantly compared to another? Every move you made, every win or loss, every single decision was contrasted and compared to the one that came before you. Because I do. Like you with Damon and Shane, I was with Kal and Vin. I was expected to be like that, as good as them, just like them, but also, different. If I came across too much one way, I was just trying to be Kal. If I didn’t come across that way, I wasn’t doing his legacy justice. Damned if I did, damned if I didn’t. I know you. I know you can identify with all of this. It’s one of the few things we had in common. And it’s gonna stay that way.”
“Because you’re still out here, still trying to overcome your daddy’s influence. Still trying to find the light in his shadow. I have carved a different path. What I’m doing, I do, not because of my brothers, but in spite of them. I am not them, like them, or close to them. I am the anti-them. And I am anti-you.”
“I don’t wanna talk about you. I don’t wanna talk to you. I don’t even want to fight you. When I came back to this business it was for a reason. I’m well on my way to it. You’ve never been a factor, and I wish it would’ve stayed that way. Hopefully, for both our sakes, I’m smarter than you now as I was back then.”
“And don’t let this get to you, but I’m gonna address the men in your life. Not because you’re not as much of a threat as them. Comparing you to them is like puppies to kittens. I could stomp on one just as fast as the other. No, princess. I’m talking to them because I know the both of them, and eventually I’m gonna have to.”
“Damon. You are as predictable, and as foolish as you ever were. I knew you’d be back. Because, and this is something you can deny, but because I fucking brought you back. I brought you back by making sure Dane got attention in the media via proximity to myself. I made sure you came back by taking your fucking name, reversing it, and making it my own. Because I owe you something Damon. I owe you so very much. But one thing in particular. And I’m very glad to finally be able to deliver it. See you soon.”
“To the other member of the ARP fan club, I say this. Dane. You don’t work here. You’re a monkey wrench for my ape of a brother. Stay in your lane. Keep your wits about you. Remember what I said to you that time we spoke, and be smart. Don’t make this a problem for you. I know you’re protective of your wife, aren’t we all? Don’t let that positive be a negative. Don’t create a permanent problem where there is only a temporary issue. It can’t be easy to do, I know. She’s as headstrong as her father but nowhere near as ugly. You’ll want to protect her from this. You’ll want to make sure that whatever problems arise, that you’re part of the solution. Lord knows you two have been at it lately. You sneaking off to work on secret secrets with the ape, her going out and working again despite you not wanting her too. I know you want to make some grand gesture. To show your supportive. Make that gesture you staying the fuck out of this. I know you’re having wife problems, and I fe bad for you son. But I got 99 problems and your bitch ain’t one.”
“Unless you make it one.”
Now
Xavier and Le’andra are seated on the deck of a very large yacht. Holding hands and basking in the sunlight. In their other hands are a very large strawberry daiquiri and a whiskey glass. As Xavier takes a sip off the daiquiri, Le’ smiles and kisses his hand.
“How is that, love?”
“Dude. It’s amazing. I may be a girl drink drunk from here on.”
“Careful. The hangovers from such can be a bit harsh.”
“I watched a Tyler Knowles promo sober once. I can take that I can take anything.”
“Where’s he been?”
“I don’t know but I hope he’s doing well.” Xavie paused, and then continued. “Well enough to stay there.
X laughs to himself, being a bit drunk. He looks to his wife, and sits up. Shocked, not at all, to see an FBI boat sitting at a distance, most likely watching him. He smirks, and picks up his phone.
“It’s me. Got him.”
Xavier hangs up the phone, and goes back to enjoying his drink, as the FBI watches him, and miles away, someone else goes unnoticed.
Seated in a large office, Special Agent John Rancor can be seen. His posture terrible, his face tired, and the two men standing before him, his superiors, aggravated. His eyes glazed over and shifty, he replays the occurrence in his head, ignore their questions about what happened, and answering his own questions, which is how. He is brought back to reality by the slamming of a hand against a table, and his eyes meet that of the man responsible.
“Am I boring you, John? Because If I am, tell me. I’ll make it more interesting for you. For instance, instead of asking you how you could be so god damn stupid as to bring this guy in prematurely knowing his connections, I’ll say something like, Since you’re grossly inept at your job, We’re gonna take it from you.” He waited for John to respond. But there wasn’t one. He just kept staring. Unblinking. Unphased. Not scared at all. A knock at the door attracts all attention except for Rancor, who never drops his gaze. His forehead wrinkles as a rage builds inside him that he has to fight back from giving into, but is too busy just attempting to not show it.
The man who knocks enters and the tone of the room changes. He nods toward the door and clears the room of the other agents. He then allows another man to enter, before closing the door and standing outside it. The man, tall, broad, and blonde, looks as if someone had created Ivan Drago to be more intimidating. He removes his jacket and reveals a button down shirt that isn’t too small so much as he is too big. He places his badge on the table, and Rancors face alters immediatly.
“John, yes? My name is Bjorn Fior. Special Agent, much like yourself. But as you can see, I work mainly with a section of interpol that you’ve not heard of, because you shouldn’t have. I am here, because you may have discovered something which interests me greatly. Xavier Wolf.”
John looks down at the agent's hand and sees him offering a cigarette from a silver folding case. John accepts and lights it. Both men exhale large amounts of smoke, and John leans back, licking his dry lips while nodding.
“So this asshole, he’s international, I take it?” John says, in between pulls.
“Before I divulge anything. I need to know. Why did you pick him up?”
“...I believe he is a large piece of a very well oiled pornography ring that has been at war with another such ring for the past few years. The ongoings of which have included but are not limited to, murder, extortion, and-”
“Yes, I know. I’ve read your files and reports. I am not asking what he has done. This I know. I am asking, why did you pick him up? What cause did you have?”
“...I just wanted to slap the cuffs on someone, anyone, for all of this. I’ve been busting my ass on this case for so long. I guess I just got tired of waiting.”
“Mistakes like that are not ones we can afford, Mr. Rancor. I tell you, I knew of one such case. I had been tracking this thief for so long, that it was almost as if we had become friends. I’d look at his works and laugh, as if he was a scamp, yes? Silly boy, stealing the money. When I did catch up to him, after many years, I refused to believe I had gotten the right person. This could not be my scamp? My greatest rival. This was just a man. Because of this, he gets away. I never see or hear from him again. It was difficult for me to swallow. So I understand what you are saying.”
“It felt good to see him in the trunk. Trunk is what we call the wagon.”
“I am familiar.”
“Of course, Once we got him back to central, he was only in the building for 5, maybe 6.”
“Hours?”
“...Minutes.” John leans forward, resting his head on the table and banging it slightly. John sat back, the cigarette clenched between his teeth, and looked out the window. His eyes squinting to accommodate the sun reflecting off the silver paint on the roof just outside. “5 god damn minutes.”
We transition to an interior shot of a dark room with all leather furniture. Women of different races and sizes and shapes crowd the room, with Johnny Stylez seated at the desk in the middle of the room. The doors open and in walks in Xavier Wolf. His swagger untouched by recent events, or any event ever for that matter, he pushes past the crowd, and approaches Johnny. Johnny, who clears the room the second he sees Xavier, reaches behind him and grabs a bottle of very expensive, very old whiskey, and two glasses. Sitting on the couch, the two men lean forward on their knees, and each down their respective glasses, before refilling them and sitting back.
“Rancor again?”
“Always.”
“Fuck. This guy don’t quit.”
“He would’ve if you paid him off like I advised.”
“Guys like him don’t got a price, Xavy.” Xavy. Johnny’s weaponized nickname for Xavier.
“They do if you ain’t cheap.” Xavier smirked. Johnny didn’t like the word cheap. He wasn’t cheap. He jsut didn’t like wasting money on useless shit unless, and these were his words, it could suck a dick.
“So what’d you tell him?”
“Nothing. ‘What ya tell him’. You fucking serious?”
“Alright, alright. Let’s discuss the other side of shit. What’s the plan for the princess Riggs?”
“I got a plan. Its so fucking good I almost wan-”
A sudden knock at the door distracts both men, not because of it being unexpected, but because of the authority in which it was delivered. It was angry. And it was loud. Xavier puts his hand on Johnny’s chest, as Johnny begins to reach for something. Xavier shakes his head and flashes a look. Johnny and him exchange a few expressions, silently communicating to one another. Xavier calls out, a smile easing across his face.
“Come in.” Xavier calls out, sitting back and trying to look non-defensive, with Johnny looking aggravated with every fiber of his being. The door opens, and in comes a very calm, very serine looking Vincent ‘Black’ Wolf. Dressed in an all black suit with matching shirt and tie. He doesn’t rush into the room, as one would expect. He instead meanders. He looks at the walls, at the decor, and at the two men seated on the couch before him. They both smile, shocked at the bravery, or lunacy, of their visitor/brother/employee.
“What do we owe the pleasure, Vin?” Johnny says, pouring himself and Xavier another glass.
“I was thinking about things. Our thing “ He says in reference to wrestling. “This thing.” He says in reference to the beef between Xavier and himself. “That thing.” he says in reference to Johnny. “And a funny anecdote came to me. One I figured I’d go out of my way to share with the two of you.”
Laughter emits from Johnny, but Xavier remains silent, somber. Almost studying his brother for some sort of tell. As if he didn’t know them all already.
“Voo and I spent a year practising orgasm denial. It goes against the very idea of what sex stands for of course. The drive to cum, to finish the process. The joy that comes with it. To deny yourself that, it’s odd. But what we discovered was that by getting as close to completion as possible, and then holding off, it made each subsequent effort that much more enjoyable. And when we did finally finish, when we reached that pinnacle, that moment of pure joy, and finally reached the end of what we had started...It was the greatest feeling in the world. To be free of it. It was unlike anything we ever felt before. So much, that we stopped practicing, and mastered it. Now, our orgasms are ours to control and dictate at our will. We control when the end comes by mastering the act.”
“What the FUCK does this have to do with anything?”
“Xavier will explain, since the only lines you can see between go up your nose. Unless…”
Xavier’s expression drops. And his teeth clench.
“Good day, gentlemen.”
Vincent leaves the room whistling a tune that further aggravates Xavier further. Johnnny, smirking still, looks to Xavier.
“What the fuck!?”
“He’s telling us that he’s biding his time. That he can wait it out, as long as we can, but when he does finally get us where he wants us, he’s gonna make damn sure he finishes it. When he busts his nut, it’s gonna be big, and it’s gonna be all over us.”
“...what’s with the whistlign?”
“That’s for me to know, and for him to get his teeth knocked down his throat about later.” Xaver stirs in his seat, before leaping up and heading out of the room.
“OH! Wait...Where you going?”
“Stretch my legs.”
“We got shit to discuss!”
“Johnny, I just spent 4 hours being yelled at by Rancor in a fucking cell, Now this shit. I’ll be back.”
Xavier storms out of the room, and slams the door behind him. As we follow him down the hall, time comes to a crawl, and his voice echoes out from beyond our sight.
“The difficulty of forming relationships in this business is not starting them, but the inevitable end of them. Friends become enemies. Lovers become nemesis. It’s a part of the dance. Even for Wolves.”
“Allison Preston Riggs. Daddies little girl. You’ve come a long fucking way in this business. Remember when you were laughed out as being the least of your family who anyone thought could make it? Remember when you were constantly compared to another? Every move you made, every win or loss, every single decision was contrasted and compared to the one that came before you. Because I do. Like you with Damon and Shane, I was with Kal and Vin. I was expected to be like that, as good as them, just like them, but also, different. If I came across too much one way, I was just trying to be Kal. If I didn’t come across that way, I wasn’t doing his legacy justice. Damned if I did, damned if I didn’t. I know you. I know you can identify with all of this. It’s one of the few things we had in common. And it’s gonna stay that way.”
“Because you’re still out here, still trying to overcome your daddy’s influence. Still trying to find the light in his shadow. I have carved a different path. What I’m doing, I do, not because of my brothers, but in spite of them. I am not them, like them, or close to them. I am the anti-them. And I am anti-you.”
“I don’t wanna talk about you. I don’t wanna talk to you. I don’t even want to fight you. When I came back to this business it was for a reason. I’m well on my way to it. You’ve never been a factor, and I wish it would’ve stayed that way. Hopefully, for both our sakes, I’m smarter than you now as I was back then.”
“And don’t let this get to you, but I’m gonna address the men in your life. Not because you’re not as much of a threat as them. Comparing you to them is like puppies to kittens. I could stomp on one just as fast as the other. No, princess. I’m talking to them because I know the both of them, and eventually I’m gonna have to.”
“Damon. You are as predictable, and as foolish as you ever were. I knew you’d be back. Because, and this is something you can deny, but because I fucking brought you back. I brought you back by making sure Dane got attention in the media via proximity to myself. I made sure you came back by taking your fucking name, reversing it, and making it my own. Because I owe you something Damon. I owe you so very much. But one thing in particular. And I’m very glad to finally be able to deliver it. See you soon.”
“To the other member of the ARP fan club, I say this. Dane. You don’t work here. You’re a monkey wrench for my ape of a brother. Stay in your lane. Keep your wits about you. Remember what I said to you that time we spoke, and be smart. Don’t make this a problem for you. I know you’re protective of your wife, aren’t we all? Don’t let that positive be a negative. Don’t create a permanent problem where there is only a temporary issue. It can’t be easy to do, I know. She’s as headstrong as her father but nowhere near as ugly. You’ll want to protect her from this. You’ll want to make sure that whatever problems arise, that you’re part of the solution. Lord knows you two have been at it lately. You sneaking off to work on secret secrets with the ape, her going out and working again despite you not wanting her too. I know you want to make some grand gesture. To show your supportive. Make that gesture you staying the fuck out of this. I know you’re having wife problems, and I fe bad for you son. But I got 99 problems and your bitch ain’t one.”
“Unless you make it one.”
Now
Xavier and Le’andra are seated on the deck of a very large yacht. Holding hands and basking in the sunlight. In their other hands are a very large strawberry daiquiri and a whiskey glass. As Xavier takes a sip off the daiquiri, Le’ smiles and kisses his hand.
“How is that, love?”
“Dude. It’s amazing. I may be a girl drink drunk from here on.”
“Careful. The hangovers from such can be a bit harsh.”
“I watched a Tyler Knowles promo sober once. I can take that I can take anything.”
“Where’s he been?”
“I don’t know but I hope he’s doing well.” Xavie paused, and then continued. “Well enough to stay there.
X laughs to himself, being a bit drunk. He looks to his wife, and sits up. Shocked, not at all, to see an FBI boat sitting at a distance, most likely watching him. He smirks, and picks up his phone.
“It’s me. Got him.”
Xavier hangs up the phone, and goes back to enjoying his drink, as the FBI watches him, and miles away, someone else goes unnoticed.