Lone Wanderer

Roleplay Roleplay by SYNDICATE
On Mon, Jun11, 2018 7:28pm America/Phoenix
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Lone Wanderer
{{wwximage=https://i.imgur.com/65dHVvk.gif}}

***TSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH***

*Black-and-white static flashes on-screen before transitioning to a shot of a dark alleyway.  The typical sounds of a large city - dogs barking, sirens blaring, and the like - can be heard in the background as the scene comes into focus.  A single orange-tinted bulb shines down onto the pavement, giving slight illumination to a green dumpster, metal fire escape stairway, and worn-down doorway.  In the corner of the screen, the setting of this camera shot is seemingly typed onto the lens by a computer.*

JUNE 10, 2018
11:24:45 PM
LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA

*A neon sign advertising a store named "Artbox Jewel" can be seen at the other end of the alley, although that seems to be a far way away.  Suddenly, the gray door swings open, and out steps Syndicate, the disgraced former World Wrestling Champion and the self-proclaimed "Lone Wanderer" of the WWX.  With his signature black baseball bat swung over his shoulder and his blonde hair draped down over his face, Syndicate is wearing a black tank top, tattered blue jeans, and black Nike sneakers.  The Los Angeles Outlaw brushes back his hair - although parts of it fall right back in place in front of his eyes - and walks through the door frame, slamming the door shut behind him.  Taking a moment to notice the presence of the camera - which has been set up on a tripod in the alleyway - Syndicate walks to the opposite wall and leans up against it, looking at the camera from the side.*

Syndicate: There comes a time in every man's life...where he must subject himself to change.  For the past five years of my career, I have essentially been the same man.  Sure, I would make small changes here or there to spice things up a bit...but underneath it all, I was still the same cocky little |BLEEP|that I entered the WWX in September of 2013.  I had intrinsically refused to evolve as time passed, even as my peers called me out for it.  I didn't heed their words at the time...but now, I realize that they were all right.  And although I have managed to find a considerable amount of success...that refusal to change caught up to me, and because of that, here I stand, without a belt of gold to hoist over my shoulder.

*He sighs, looking up into the hazy night sky of the City of Angels.*

Syndicate: But, as with many things in life, that's only a single part of the story.  Tommy Lipton, drunk off of his newfound power as general manager, took matters into his own hands at Bloodshed by doing what Rex McAllister couldn't do: take the World Championship away from Syndicate.  You see, as a competitor, Tommy Lipton couldn't beat me.  No matter how many times he and I faced off, I was always one step ahead.  But at the end of it all, after I defeated "Mr. WWX" one final time at Armada, I was willing to bury the hatchet.  I extended my hand in congratulations for a long, fantastic career of his...and he responded with the CIB, because his ego couldn't get out of his own way.  And then, at Bloodshed, Tommy decides to get involved.  In one singular instant, Tommy Lipton took everything that I possessed...and threw it out the |BLEEP|ing window.  In the aftermath, we are left with Rex McAllister as World Champion...and I with nothing at all.  No posessions...no pride...no allies...nothing.  I stand here, in the dirty streets of Los Angeles, completely alone. 

Syndicate: But unlike the other times where I've been screwed out of glory, I'm not going home with my tail tucked between my legs.  No, this time...I'm out for blood.  I'm out for vengeance.  Lipton and McAllister's plan may have worked at the last pay-per-view...but it's now my mission to make sure that neither of them makes it to the next one intact.  I am DONE |BLEEP|ing around...now I just want to crack their skulls open and splatter their blood on the walls of every arena in the world.  If Tommy Lipton wants to settle the score with me, fine...but he better be prepared to lose EVERYTHING, just like I did.  Tommy, Rex...I have nothing more to lose...and everything to gain.  I will tear the two of you apart, thread by thread, until there is NOTHING left.  I will throw you to the wolves, I will bring you through the depths of hell, and I will cause more torment and chaos than you have ever seen before.  So yeah, like I said on Wreckage, you better watch your |BLEEP|ing back...because I'm out for destruction.

*Slinging the baseball bat over his shoulder once again, Syndicate hops off the wall and begins to meander down the alleyway towards the camera.*

Syndicate: But even as I look forward to breaking every bone in Rex and Tommy's bodies...I still hear the outside noise.  You see, for quite a while now, I've noticed a little fly buzzing around me.  Just like all flies, this one circles my head over and over, as if it's only out there to annoy me and distract from my true goal.  On social media, DragonFly has been calling me out, purposefully poking the bear as a way to gain attention to his pathetic self.  Normally, this wouldn't be anything new...but he decided to piss me off at the absolute wrong time.

Syndicate: DragonFly, I don't think you fully understand what you've done.  Even just a few months ago, I would have laughed off your insults because I truly couldn't have cared less.  But now...things are different.  The WWX has changed, and I along with it.  If you want to buzz around my head, if you want to be an annoying little fly...you best be prepared to be squashed with one swing of this baseball bat.  Trust me, DragonFly...if I see you at Ravage, I'm going to rip you the |BLEEP| apart.  And then, once you've been swatted out of the air...Rex McAllister and Tommy Lipton will suffer the same fate...but in an even more violent fashion.

*Syndicate uses his left hand to brush back his bangs as he raises the baseball bat up and points it directly at the camera lens.*

Syndicate: The Los Angeles Outlaw, in his previous incarnation...is dead.  He was killed by Tommy Lipton and Rex McAllister...and in his place stands the Lone Wanderer.  Nothing to lose, nothing to prove.  Tommy and Rex deserve to die for their actions...and I'm going to be the one to pull the trigger.

*With a steely look in his eyes, Syndicate walks past the camera as the shot loses its focus, eventually being overtaken by static.*

***TSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH***

{{wwximage=https://i.imgur.com/65dHVvk.gif}}

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