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Thread: [Toronto, Ontario]

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    [Toronto, Ontario]

    She sucked at the end of her cigarette, staring out upon Lake Ontario stretching out before her. It was late: ten going on eleven. The water looked black in the night, but the moon threw out odd bands of pale light that shimmered and danced upon its surface. The air was an odd cocktail: the clean, crisp, natural influence of the lake, and the stale, stuffy oxygen found in a city. Behind her, whipping at her back, the sounds of traffic, sirens, and general revelry starkly reminded her that she was not alone. The constant buzz irked her, and with a discontented look on her face she hastily finished the cigarette and threw the end into the water.

    The bar was as empty as she remembered it, and she took her place at the bar once again. She signalled to her newest and best friend - Bob the bartender - for a replenishment, and he poured a healthy measure of Jameson's into her glass and set a beer down next to it. She nodded thankfully as he flipped the cap off the bottle with a lighter. She took a swig of the beer and breathed in deeply, regarding each of the two other patrons in turn. One was an elderly man who wore a suit and read a newspaper, rocking gently back and forth in his chair for no reason in particular. He occupied the dankest corner of the bar and hadn't touched his half-finished beer in quite some time. The other was a balding fat man in his forties who stared out of the window and drank stout in perfect silence. She liked both of them.

    And then the door opened, and suddenly her sanctuary had been brutally and thoughtlessly punctured.

    ---

    ​(OOC open invite - join MvH in my location or create your own!)

    Last edited by SupineSnake; 11-29-2020 at 12:34 PM.


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    Re: [Toronto, Ontario]

    Quote Originally Posted by SupearSaying View Post
    She sucked at the end of her cigarette, staring out upon Lake Ontario stretching out before her. It was late: ten going on eleven. The water looked black in the night, but the moon threw out odd bands of pale light that shimmered and danced upon its surface. The air was an odd cocktail: the clean, crisp, natural influence of the lake, and the stale, stuffy oxygen found in a city. Behind her, whipping at her back, the sounds of traffic, sirens, and general revelry starkly reminded her that she was not alone. The constant buzz irked her, and with a discontented look on her face she hastily finished the cigarette and threw the end into the water.

    The bar was as empty as she remembered it, and she took her place at the bar once again. She signalled to her newest and best friend - Bob the bartender - for a replenishment, and he poured a healthy measure of Jameson's into her glass and set a beer down next to it. She nodded thankfully as he flipped the cap off the bottle with a lighter. She took a swig of the beer and breathed in deeply, regarding each of the two other patrons in turn. One was an elderly man who wore a suit and read a newspaper, rocking gently back and forth in his chair for no reason in particular. He occupied the dankest corner of the bar and hadn't touched his half-finished beer in quite some time. The other was a balding fat man in his forties who stared out of the window and drank stout in perfect silence. She liked both of them.

    And then the door opened, and suddenly her sanctuary had been brutally and thoughtlessly punctured.

    ---

    ​(OOC open invite - join MvH in my location or create your own!)

    "WHAT IS MOTHERFUCKIN' HAPPENIN' UP IN THIS BITTTTTCH!! Yo Bob, the usual pal."

    Bob the bartender nearly drops the pint-glass he's polishing such is the shock from this entrance.

    "Damn! Is that you? You're back in Canada, eh? Never thought I'd see the day you crossed my front door again. Good to see ya Danny! Pint of Kokanne coming right up!"

    Danny Toner stood in the frame of the door-way in skinny black jeans and black Adidas Gazelle runners. November in Toronto wasn't the kindest and Danny had a big Canada Goose jacket on which made him look positively massive. He looked around the sparsely populated bar, lighting a joint. Bob's wasn't that popular but it was one of the few places in Toronto that had Kokanne, a western-Canadian lager Danny had grown quite fond of. Besides, Bob let you smoke indoors. Marijuana that was, cig smokers still had to brave the weather. No hassle for Danny and his gigantic Canada Goose jacket though! Danny turned to his left and immediately began choking on his spliff. Through confused coughs he manages to splutter out a name -

    "Mi-*cough*-Mi-*coughcoughcough*Michelle?​"


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    Re: [Toronto, Ontario]

    Quote Originally Posted by Tig View Post
    "WHAT IS MOTHERFUCKIN' HAPPENIN' UP IN THIS BITTTTTCH!! Yo Bob, the usual pal."

    Bob the bartender nearly drops the pint-glass he's polishing such is the shock from this entrance.

    "Damn! Is that you? You're back in Canada, eh? Never thought I'd see the day you crossed my front door again. Good to see ya Danny! Pint of Kokanne coming right up!"

    Danny Toner stood in the frame of the door-way in skinny black jeans and black Adidas Gazelle runners. November in Toronto wasn't the kindest and Danny had a big Canada Goose jacket on which made him look positively massive. He looked around the sparsely populated bar, lighting a joint. Bob's wasn't that popular but it was one of the few places in Toronto that had Kokanne, a western-Canadian lager Danny had grown quite fond of. Besides, Bob let you smoke indoors. Marijuana that was, cig smokers still had to brave the weather. No hassle for Danny and his gigantic Canada Goose jacket though! Danny turned to his left and immediately began choking on his spliff. Through confused coughs he manages to splutter out a name -

    "Mi-*cough*-Mi-*coughcoughcough*Michelle?​"
    Michelle finished the whiskey, and wrapped her hand idly around the beer. She knew who had entered. He had a distinctive enough voice and manner that his initial outburst had given him away. She had closed her eyes instinctively, wishing the ground would open up and swallow her whole. Looking at the structural insufficiencies of the building, there was a better chance of that here than in most places.

    It had been four days since Mile High, when Danny and his brother had been victorious over The Valanders and Michelle had lost to a significant proportion of the roster. She hadn't seen any of them since then: not even Gerald. The letter she left him was probably inadequate, falling short of what her partner would expect from her after such an abject failure. But even that gesture, insignificant and tokenistic as it might seem, was still more than she had wanted to offer. She had done so only as a courtesy to Gerald. She wondered where he was, and how he was preparing for yet another big ask: a one-on-one date with Cyrus Truth. A man whose name is synonymous with the world championship. Maybe she would find a pay phone and call him after she was done here. But, of course, she was far from done here.

    Finally, she turned to face Toner.

    "Didn't think a pretty young thing like you would be found dead in a place like this..."


    When she looked at him, she remembered the last time that they had spoken. It was at the start of the Mile High pay-per-view, which happened to be Danny's birthday. He had offered her some advice on how best to evade Randy Ramon's finish, but she had unfortunately not had chance to put it to the test. Instead, Golden had capitalised upon her lack of focus to put Grayson down for the three. But it wasn't Gerald's fault. None of it was.

    Still, the whole series of events had not been a complete waste of time. No: not quite. Some sort of tension had been sewn between Toner and Ramon in the process, and tension leads to chaos. That is where she thrived.

    ​"Your advice: it was... Useless, in the end. I hope you didn't ruin a good friendship for nothing."


    Toner offered her his joint. She was pleased that the rest of the world was beginning to catch up with her homeland. She nodded at Bob to re-fill her whiskey. He dutifully obliged.


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    Re: [Toronto, Ontario]

    Quote Originally Posted by SupearSaying View Post
    Michelle finished the whiskey, and wrapped her hand idly around the beer. She knew who had entered. He had a distinctive enough voice and manner that his initial outburst had given him away. She had closed her eyes instinctively, wishing the ground would open up and swallow her whole. Looking at the structural insufficiencies of the building, there was a better chance of that here than in most places.

    It had been four days since Mile High, when Danny and his brother had been victorious over The Valanders and Michelle had lost to a significant proportion of the roster. She hadn't seen any of them since then: not even Gerald. The letter she left him was probably inadequate, falling short of what her partner would expect from her after such an abject failure. But even that gesture, insignificant and tokenistic as it might seem, was still more than she had wanted to offer. She had done so only as a courtesy to Gerald. She wondered where he was, and how he was preparing for yet another big ask: a one-on-one date with Cyrus Truth. A man whose name is synonymous with the world championship. Maybe she would find a pay phone and call him after she was done here. But, of course, she was far from done here.

    Finally, she turned to face Toner.

    "Didn't think a pretty young thing like you would be found dead in a place like this..."


    When she looked at him, she remembered the last time that they had spoken. It was at the start of the Mile High pay-per-view, which happened to be Danny's birthday. He had offered her some advice on how best to evade Randy Ramon's finish, but she had unfortunately not had chance to put it to the test. Instead, Golden had capitalised upon her lack of focus to put Grayson down for the three. But it wasn't Gerald's fault. None of it was.

    Still, the whole series of events had not been a complete waste of time. No: not quite. Some sort of tension had been sewn between Toner and Ramon in the process, and tension leads to chaos. That is where she thrived.

    ​"Your advice: it was... Useless, in the end. I hope you didn't ruin a good friendship for nothing."


    Toner offered her his joint. She was pleased that the rest of the world was beginning to catch up with her homeland. She nodded at Bob to re-fill her whiskey. He dutifully obliged.
    "Look ... I'm sorry."

    Danny looked genuine as he passed Michelle the joint. Bob held the bottle of whiskey up to Toner who quickly nodded his head. Danny slammed the whiskey back in one and Bob, the ever diligent bartender that he was, opted to leave the dark green bottle resting on the bartop between Danny and Michelle.

    "I got involved in something I shouldn't have. I watched that match. You were brilliant. Honest."

    Michelle offers no reply and even as he spouted the words he had known immediately that they were futile and essentially meaningless. Danny himself had failed to a Randy Ramon-team multiple times in his hunt to become the FWA World Tag Team Championship. First Marcus Thane and later Christian Quinn tried to bump up Danny after a loss to RevEl but as nice of a sentiment as it was, it was always rendered obsolete. It never mattered. No matter what anybody said nothing could take the sting away after losing a match of such magnitude. Still, he felt he owed an apology.

    "I mean I really watched that match Michelle. I felt every ebb and flow, it was like I was in there myself. Randy threw a Remix and you caught it. You countered it - you were just naturally good enough, you didn't need me, you could do it yourself. Straight away I knew I shouldn't have said anything about the dodge. I was just filling your head with unneeded shit and I'm thinkin' that had an impact on how things fared out. You know what the funny thing is, though? I don't regret trying to help you ... I'm just sorry that it didn't work out."

    Words can't take away the pain. Booze can't really either but ... it helps. Danny swigs on his pint and removes his Canada Goose jacket (he was getting side-eyed by some of the locals and he figured maybe it ain't considered that cold here). He's wearing a plain black Stone Island tee-shirt that he smiled as he recalled where he purchased it. He'd got it at a Country House in Rotterdam on one of his many Amsterdam trips. Funny, that's where Michelle was from. Danny helped himself to another swig of his beer.

    "I know what it's like to lose to Ramon in a tag match. I'm not comparing my situations to yours but uh ... I know enough to know that you won't really care about what I just said. It ain't gonna make a difference. You lost. That's it. Randy and me ... uh, I dunno. We're the strangest variety of friend you'll ever meet. I don't know if we ever truly are friends. I mean I like travelling with him on the road and he's a funny fucker when we're havin' a drink but ... I can't lie ... sometimes I want to rip his fucking head off. There's something clawing at the inside of me. I can feel it from him too. It's like we we fuckin' born to fight each other - you ever get that?"

    Danny jerks his head at the joint that Michelle is smoking.

    "Pass that, Dreamer. I ain't gonna sit here apologizing all night and I know you ain't gonna take no heed of it anyway so here's my offer; I'll buy you a drink and we can shoot the breeze about Randy, Gerald, FWA, Rotterdam, whiskey - whatever the fuck. We can pretend we ain't the two saddos that we are drinkin' midweek in a dive bar. No offense Bob."

    Danny picks up the bottle of whiskey and holds it questioningly in front of Michelle.

    "What you sayin', Dreamer?"


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    Re: [Toronto, Ontario]

    The bar door swings open and in walks a t-shirt-wearing man with wildly messy hair. He has one half of the FWA Tag Team Championship belts over his shoulder, proudly showing it off to everyone in the bar. Or maybe it's just a replica for show, as no one should ever be caught dead going into a random bar with such a prestigious piece of FWA hardware. Maybe it's just symbolic for what it represents, which is that one of the FWA's champions...

    is here.


    "Ooooooo ... There's some context in this bar," Golden mumbles to himself, seeing the eye contact from the other two bartop inhabitants before darting his eyes elsewhere.

    "The Golden One" takes a seat a few spots away from Michelle von Horrowitz and Danny Toner. He tries not to interrupt their conversation but has taken note of the final few sentiments expressed by the reigning Gauntlet Champion.

    The bartender on his side makes eye contact and offers a head nod. Golden and he get to chatting, with Golden asking for a beer during the conversation. Eventually, it changes to Golden's visit to the metropolitan.


    "Toronto is one of my favorite cities in the world. Even when it's cold, it just ... feels good."



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    Re: [Toronto, Ontario]

    Michelle felt conflicted. Uncomfortable but enjoyable conversation with Golden, or comfortable but unenjoyable conversation with Toner. She split the difference.

    "Did you two arrange to meet here or something? Is there a mailing list that I need to be on?"


    The implication was clear: to find out where they would be drinking and go somewhere else. They watched as they in turn inferred this meaning, first Toner, then Golden.

    "It was Toner's round, but I think it's customary that the champ buys the first..."


    She tried to spy the gold, but it was out of sight for the moment. She remembered the night she had won the X Belt and the lines she's snorted off the plating. Golden was a different type of cat. She regarded him reproachfully, aloof and slightly removed from the pair. She resented his presence, but was happy to see how it played out.

    "I hear it's the New Breed next for you. Me too, it seems. The enemy of my enemy, etc..."


    She turned to Toner, finishing her beer and staring at the empty accusingly.

    "And as for the match? I'd rather not speak about it. Not now. Especially not with him here. He doesn't seem the sort to gloat, but the shame would be implied regardless."


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    Re: [Toronto, Ontario]

    Danny eyed both Michelle and the newly arrived Devin Golden. He had felt at ease speaking to Michelle but suddenly he felt quite tense at the developing situation. There were too many dynamics at play and he didn't feel in control of the situation in any way.

    "Champ buys first, huh? I guess I fit that bill myself. Bob get Michelle a beer and get Devin his next drink too - you may as well leave the bottle of whiskey pal."

    Danny roots into his pocket and reaches for his wallet and when he opens it he notices a bulge in the coin pocket. He didn't have to look. He knew what it was. He put it there after all. Danny bit his lower lip as his mind raced with thoughts. Sure - he does a bit of cocaine. The thing was Danny had learned to somewhat overcome what was once a crippling addiction. He had gone clean for over a year and now he done cocaine sometimes. Because he wanted to and to enjoy himself. Not because he needed to do it. There was a difference as far as Danny was concerned. It was subtle but it was an important distinction in Danny's mind. He had no intention of doing cocaine tonight when he had entered the bar but now there was a sudden overwhelming urge to go into the bathroom and snort his brains out. He realised he had just been looking at his wallet for the last few seconds when he sensed the respective glares of Golden and von Horrowitz.

    "Uh, sorry just trying to remember somethin'."

    Danny's weak response was noted but ultimately not commented on. Danny places three fifty Canadian dollar notes on the bartop and abruptly sits up from his chair. He realises he doesn't want any part of this. He doesn't know what's going to happen. He doesn't know who is going to say what. He doesn't know what side people or on. What side he's on? Is he on a side? Are there sides? Or was he just being paranoid. Danny felt a bit hot under his Stone Island tee-shirt and he tugged at it in discomfort.

    "I'm, uh, I'm gonna just go for a smoke - you guys talk. I'll just ... uh, yeah."

    Danny turns on his heel and marches out the front door of the tavern. His breathing is slow and stable. It's alright. It's cool. Danny's phone starts ringing in his pocket and when he sees the dialler his breathing instantly becomes more rapid and erratic. Thomas Princeton. Oh fuck ... it is happening again. Danny shakily rejects the call and turns off his phone. He lights a straight - a cigarette that is - and tries to regain his composure before going back in. Fuck. Will he go back in? Danny drags heavily on his cigarette praying that the ensemble doesn't grow any larger.
    Last edited by Tig; 11-30-2020 at 01:06 PM.


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    Re: [Toronto, Ontario]

    The Car Drive


    Saus X finally arrived in Ontario, having been on the road for 3 days. The normal drive was 15 hours, but he needed to stop and eat, take pictures, super kick a few people, and of course sleep. He decided to pass by the bars he saw, and found his way to a motel. He parked his van on the parking lot, and shut it off. He exited the van, making sure he shut his van's blinds. Once that was done, he reentered the van and shut the door. Once he locked the van doors, he went to the back of his van, and set up the TV. He turned on something from Netflix, probably Nacho Libre, and fell back onto his bed.

    He always did this before shows, find a parking lot and park in it. He never got in any trouble for it, though he almost got broken in to. While the TV was playing, X turned on his phone. He had a bad habit of focusing on one thing, and then doing a completely irrelevant thing as well. He scrolled through Twitter, liking a few Youtuber's Tweets. He even posted one of his own (Which You Can Find in the Twitter Thread). X then closed out Twitter, and turned on YouTube. He sat his phone on the bed as he watched some PWG Highlights.

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    Re: [Toronto, Ontario]

    Golden stayed mostly distant from the conversation at hand, even when the pair turned their heads in his direction. He kept with a moderate, content smile. Not a smirk by any means, no. It was more of someone at peace with their surroundings, with themselves, with the way of the world in general. They were just ... happy.

    "The Golden One" knew his future would be split differently between his two worlds: FWA and home. He knew, in time, he'd have less time to the FWA and more to his home life. He knew, with a family growing, he needed to be there ... not here.

    But he was happy with that future, and happy with this present. A beer in a Toronto dive bar was fitting for the moment. He might not do it in the future, but the future is still ways down the road.


    "I can certainly buy the first round. I have no grievances with anyone in this bar. No hard feelings. No residue."

    Golden yanks out $30 worth of American bills and places it in the bar gently. Almost like he flicks it, sliding it across the wooden top as if it's a pair of cards he's folding in No Limit Texas Hold 'Em. He senses Michelle's passive sideways glare with his own cornered glance, trying to be undetected but certainly failing.

    "The enemies cliche always seemed too distant from true human emotions. Turning relationships into a mathematical transformative property equation doesn't quite work. I'm surprised you'd consider us friends, but maybe you left the last part out so as not to commit to it. I wouldn't expect you to put yourself in a vulnerable spot, so it's all good with me.

    I don't imagine you need help on Fight Night against the New Breed. But if you do ... well, I'd ask Grayson first. But I don't mind being Plan B or C."


    Golden looks around and sees the outline of a head in the door window. He sees Danny Toner outside, likely unsure whether to return. "The Golden One" doesn't mind the one-on-one company with Michelle. He also isn't expecting much from it, considering he did just call her out on her approach to the conversation.

    He lets a pause go between he and Michelle. Before she can respond to anything he said, Devin again adds in one last part.


    "As for the last part before Danny left ... I surely won't gloat. Wins and losses are fleeting. They don't deserve the gravity that some people assign to them. I've learned a lot in 12 years. Number one is that."



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    Re: [Toronto, Ontario]

    "You're both buying a round?"

    She looked at Golden's $30 next to Toner's $150, and was not forthcoming with any money of her own. She did the maths and found that - even with the unfortunately very real possibility that both of them might stick around - they had enough for around twelve rounds. Not bad. She wasn't proud enough to refuse a free drink.

    "I'm not exactly asking for your help, just merely pointing out an odd fact that our next real battle is against the same duo. I can't ask Gerald for help. That much is plain..."


    She thought briefly of the letter that she had left at his hotel back in Edmonton, which he would have surely read by now ...

    "... but I do plan to have someone in my corner. The Blackbird has ignored me as best he can all year, but I will not take this ridiculous slight of a main event lying down..."


    She turned to face Golden more directly, and as she shifted in her chair the bruising played havoc with her central nervous system. She did her best not to wince, and wondered which of the aches and pains the man in front of her was responsible for.

    "And if not Gerald, then who else? The New Breed aren't short of enemies. I'm sure someone will be willing."


    Bob placed her drink down in front of her, and she picked it up without acknowledging him.

    "But we do disagree on one point. Wins and losses are not fleeting. They are everything. Do you think Cyrus regards his failures so flippantly? Or our now dethroned King? I will manage my own response to this setback... these setbacks... and it won't be as zen or as lackadaisical as you suggest."


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    Re: [Toronto, Ontario]

    Danny is now sitting on a picnic bench outside Bob's Tavern. There's a collection of cigarette butts at his feet. He's chain-smoking.

    Why did he leave $150 dollars there?

    He's stressed.

    Is his Canada Goose jacket inside?

    He wants to do cocaine.

    How much was one fifty Canadian?

    He wants to go home.

    He wants to talk to Michelle.

    He doesn't.

    He eyes a glass bottle on the ground and thinks about putting it over Golden's head.

    What?! Why is he thinking like that? His mind wanders to brawling with Michelle in the bar, her head slammed onto the counter-top they were sharing. Fucking show everybody wouldn't it? Just smash Golden and von Horrowitz up. They wouldn't see it coming. Nobody would know what happened. Not if he done it right. He could wait until they were drunk and ask Michelle for a smoke. BOOM! Back of the head. Who'd know? Golden would be so drunk that Danny could probably just take him out from behind. Bob was cool. Bob wouldn't say anything. Then nobody would have Randy's back ... then Danny could be better than him again. Danny could take his tag championship. Daniel Toner, double champion. Four times a champion - that'd be one more than Randy. Danny subconsciously begins undoing the wrap of cocaine from his wallet and lining out a slug on the back of his phone. The thought of holding the FWA Gauntlet Championship and Tag Team Championship at the same time began to engulf Danny's thoughts as he rolls up a twenty dollar note to snort with. Five defences and then it'll be Tag Team AND North American Champion. Thomas Princeton said he could help him. Danny bends over - snnoorrrtt! Danny rises from the picnic bench with a long exhale of relief. He picks up the empty beer bottle and smashes the end of it off against the edge of bench. Fuck waiting until they were drunk. He was doing it now. He was taking them out. The Rabid Dog doesn't wait. Excellence doesn't wait. Danny shuts his eyes and whispers lowly to himself.

    "Show them that they aren't ... better than you."

    Danny reaches the door of the tavern, the neck of the beer bottle in his hand and the jagged end pointing outwards. He'd go for Devin and if Michelle got involved well ...

    "NO! WHAT THE FUCK DANNY!"

    Danny likes Michelle and Golden. They're ... well they're friends he thinks. He's not sure about Michelle but Devin and him - they're definitely friends! Danny goes a bit white as he recalls his thoughts of "Daniel" and "Excellence". Thomas Princeton just made him uneasy. Danny hated that man. Danny is fidgeting with his hands and he groans as he realises the slug of cocaine is kicking in and spreading through his body like wildfire. Well if Michelle and Devin didn't know about Danny ... they were gonna learn today. Danny drops the beer bottle on the ground and re-enters Bob's Tavern. He slowly walks up behind Devin who has his back to him. I mean ... he could just - no, Michelle just caught his eye. Danny, however, continues advancing until he's right behind Devin. He stalks him, knowing he still doesn't know he's there and Michelle's eyes go wide as Danny ... wraps him in a monster bear-hug from behind.

    "Devin, bud, thanks for Fifa - I ain't stopped playin' it. Let's get drinkin' - I miss anything?"


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    Re: [Toronto, Ontario]

    Devin senses Michelle's tone increase at the end. He senses her attempt to speak defiantly, to express her personal values. He senses her desire to appreciate success and failure.

    He isn't affected by it. Not at all. In fact, he got the exact reaction he expected. He would've been stunned if Michelle agreed with him. He'd be stunned if most people agreed with him. Very few would. Usually it is people who have been to the top and accomplished everything. People with little to prove. People who, as we already described Devin earlier, are happy with their life.

    "I didn't expect you and I to see eye to eye, and it's certainly fine. Anyone can respond to everything in their life however they want. That is Cyrus' and Sulley's issue. Not mine, and not mine to fix.

    I do feel, in time, your views may change. Maybe not. Maybe you and I are inherently different at the ethos. I ..."


    Right then, Danny Toner pulls him into a big bear hug and expresses his gratitude for the Fifa video game gift. It startles Devin, as he's not one to enjoy sudden touch from behind with no warning. And he doesn't think, if a many with a knife or gun was behind him instead, he'd have any friends in this bar helping him.

    He turns back to Michelle, resisting Danny for a moment more to finish his thought.

    "I'll leave it there. Yes, I imagine you'll find at least one on the roster who would like a New Breed battle. Maybe the Prodigy. Maybe someone from the Valanders camp. Or maybe you're someone who is best off handling it on your own."

    Golden looks behind him at the man still with a bar hug wrapped around his chest.

    "Nothing. I'm down to drink. In fact, I'm halfway through this one! Yo ... your hand is bleeding. You fight a spiked turtle or something? Is Bowser outside?"

    Golden notices blood stains on his shirt. Danny's hand isn't oozing out blood, but there's a noticeable cut right below his pinky and ring fingers on his right hand. Devin chalks it up to a wayward piece of glass, but he's concerned for the man hugging him.



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  13. #13
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    Re: [Toronto, Ontario]

    Meanwhile, outside the streets of the Scotiabank Arena in Toronto, stands a man wearing a Saints @ Sinners t-shirt over a heavy black hoodie. He looks quite cold as the snow comes down in Toronto...but in his hand are pamphlets...

    Brad Givens: Join the Saints and Sinners...come be rescued.

    Accept your savior Saint Sulley, and rejoice!

    Brad continues to hand out the pamphlets in the cold, as he continues to earn his place as a Saints and Sinners acolyte.

  14. #14
    Bo Dallas Mark
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    Re: [Toronto, Ontario]

    Saus X had woke up from his sleep. He probably fell asleep around 2 AM, which meant he got a good 9 hours of sleep. X put up his stuff in van, stapling down his baskets. X quickly pulled up his blinds, and started his van. He began to drive over to Scotiabank Arena, most likely to park his van and get his area set up. He watched the Saints and Sinners lackey hand out pamphlets as he made his way into the parking lot. He parked his van, and grabbed a jacket from a small clothes basket. He put on his jacket, and stepped out of the Van, locking it behind him.

  15. #15
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    Re: [Toronto, Ontario]

    A cold, windy and snowy night in Hogtown. The strength of the wind flips open his hood more than he would be comfortable with. Hanging his head low, he walks on the pavement, going back to his temporary place of residence, a cheap, dirty and smelly apartment in the cheap, dirty and smelly part of the city, a far cry from the glitz and glamour he used to thrive in. He passes through shops, some of them have little televisions inside them that he can just look at outside of the door. They show commercials, hyping up the next installment of Fight Night in the city, the touring circus was coming into town. He just sneers and continues on his way. He passes through ATM machines, almost taunting him about his financial situation. Back in US, all his bank accounts was frozen. He knew who was responsible for it, he didn't blame her at all, he could starve or freeze and all would be his fault, he knew that much. Eventually, with the help of the wind, a small pamphlet finds its way to his shoes. Which he makes the mistake of picking up.

    'Saints and Sinners. With the help of Saint Sulle-'

    He doesn't need to read the rest of it before he knows he needs to rip the pamphlet into two. The two pieces continue on their path with the wind paving their way. Just like him, in a sense. Going where the wind takes him. He goes, tries to settle, but as soon as the 'men in black' arrive, he just hops onto the wind and goes wherever he needs to go next. Thankfully, he had gotten better at recognizing them before they recognize him, but no one could stop the word from spreading around and thus, he was eventually found wherever he went.

    A man without a home had no choice but to live a nomadic life. That was how life was now. He was content, or as content as he could be.
    what exactly is a dream?
    what exactly is a joke?


  16. #16
    Bo Dallas Mark
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    Re: [Toronto, Ontario]

    X decided to ignore the Saints and Sinners lackey, and walked into the arena. Everytime he stepped into an arena, he got goosebumps. He could never get used to being in a big arena, even if it was empty and lifeless.

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