Post by Sentinel on Oct 7, 2015 7:50:58 GMT -6
There were benefits to being in the main event for a person of Sentinel's mindset aside from the bigger paychecks and notoriety, that being the fact that most of the time the locker room was a quiet place by the time he made it backstage. The New Orleans fans weren't having any of that mess, though. You could even hear them from halfway down the hall from Gorilla, which was saying something considering that most of them wanted the Silent Destroyer hung from the tallest tree a few months ago. Flanked by Talon, Rayne and Zachariah Blood, collectively known as The Unforgiven, the reigning UWA World Heavyweight Champion is making his way toward his locker room at his own pace. Considering his war with Vince Jones mere minutes ago, it's a damn miracle the big bastard is walking at all. Both men had busted one another open in their battle for supremacy but in the end Sentinel was the man walking out with the biggest prize in the company.
The foursome approaches the intersection, passing by a few local talents and production team members that stop to watch as the champion and his entourage pass. There's no reservation or nervousness in them when he's around anymore, only a reestablished respect, something that would probably touch Sentinel if his head weren't throbbing after taking one too many boots to the face. Still, he walks upright with his head held high. Time enough to collapse once he was away from prying eyes. However, UWA's intrepid interviewer, Thumper, would try his hand at getting a few words from the champion...something that hadn't gone his way of late. Their relationship had been acrimonious at best after Sentinel won the strap but here, when Zachariah was ready to step in and none-too-gently usher Thumper out of the way, Sentinel held up a hand to still his brother-in-law.
Sentinel: "It's cool, brother..."
Talon: "You sure, baby? You really need to get to the back so I can look you over."
Zachariah looked at the champion somewhat incredulously while Talon's comment, easily taken out of context for those with gutter-dwelling minds, was full of concern. Sentinel shook his head to them both, though, their concern noted but for the moment put aside.
Sentinel: "Yeah, I'm sure. Stick around in case I fall on my face from exhaustion, naturally, but let the man ask his questions."
He gives his attention to Thumper, inclining his chin as he hitches the title over his shoulder up a bit.
Thumper: "If this is a bad time..."
Zachariah Blood: "Man said ask. Do it while you can."
Shooting his brother-in-law a look which surprisingly has Blood laying off, Sentinel turns back to Thumper, cameraman in place over his left shoulder, so that the interviewer can do his job.
Thumper: "Hell of a match you had with Vince Jones out there, champion. Wanted to get your thoughts in the aftermath of your first title defense."
Sentinel: "It's written on my face, Thumper."
The champion points at the cameraman and gestures for him to get a close shot of those wounds. Sentinel points, in turn, to his nose, the cut over his eye and his well-busted lower lip.
Sentinel: "This...is pride. This...is honor. This...is determination. But this?"
He slaps the title over his shoulder and cuts a fierce grin as the view pans back to take in all present.
Sentinel: "THIS is satisfaction."
Thumper: "So it felt good to at last get your hands on Vince Jones?"
Laughing a little, but only a little because it kinda hurt, Sentinel shoved some of his hair out of his face.
Sentinel: "I could talk all the smack in the world about Jones but my face and body would call bullshit on it. Fact is, Jones brought it all to that ring tonight. Not once did I think I'd walk all over him but I was genuinely surprised how much it took to put him away. Now don't misunderstand me here..."
He accepts a bottle of water from Talon, downing a good third of it before lowering it and continuing.
Sentinel: "...because I still don't have a lick of respect for the man. I acknowledge his skill and power in that ring and the run he gave me for my title. But respect? None. Not ever."
Thumper: "Who do you expect will be your next opponent for that title? After defeating Jones, no disrespect intended, new contenders will be looking to strike while the iron's hot."
Nodding with a somber air, Sentinel gazes at the title before shifting his attention back to Thumper mid-sentence.
Sentinel: "That's not up to me. I know they're coming and I'll say the same thing I said leading up to that war with Jones: bring on the world. This title isn't going anywhere until I'm ready for it to."
Thumper: "Any picks then?"
Sentinel: "Honestly? No. If it were up to me, I'd see my next challenger go through the same thing I went through: a tournament with every match making a difference as to whether or not you get that title shot by the end. There's no better to separate the contenders from the pretenders. But in the end it won't make any difference. I'll just buckle down and charge them head-on, same as I did with what's left of The Violence out there."
Talon: "You can bet on that, Thumper. But that's all the time we have for questions right now."
The interviewer needs no further direction, stepping aside for the four to walk past. Sentinel claps him on the shoulder as they walk by and even in his wrecked state that gesture had Thumper rolling his shoulder. But at the very least, they were on better terms. Thumper heads off in the opposite direction and we're shown the last of The Unforgiven entering Sentinel's locker room just before the door closes and the scene fades to black.
Mere moments later the feed returns from within Sentinel’s tour bus. On the long road home, taking advantage of the extra few days post-PPV, Sentinel is nonetheless handling business. In this case, business refers to one Bethany Kenyon, his partner at the next Mayhem. In bits and pieces during his preparation for his title defense he heard talk of a disturbance involving the new North American Champion, her sister and her boyfriend, but it wasn’t until he caught the replay of the show after leaving the arena that he realized the extent of the calamity. His first act was to text Bethany that very morning and again in the evening following. Now, the day after, he was calling and expecting to have to leave a voicemail.
Needless to say, he was worried about the woman, match be damned. It was a good example of the changes that he’d been trying to make in himself, that he was more interested in his friend’s well-being than the upcoming match. The fourth ring would signal the switch to voicemail, but three-and-a-half beeps in, Bethany actually picked up the phone. We hear her voice clearly as she picks up, sounding a little harried.
Bethany: “Dorian? Sorry I didn’t… sorry, it took me so long to return your call.”
Half-relieved, half-concerned, Sentinel brushes off her apology gently.
Sentinel: ”It’s cool. The pay-per-view got hectic in a hurry for both of us as I remember it. Sorry about blowing up your phone with messages.”
Her voice comes back, seemingly ready to break.
Bethany: “It’s… ok. I was looking for Brody.”
Looking for him? Those words didn’t surprise the Silent Destroyer, but they certainly worried him, a sensation showed well on his facial features.
Sentinel: ”Shit...still no word, huh? Damn it. What’s he thinking?!”
Bethany: “He…”
She trails off, clearly trying not to break down.
Bethany: “I went to the hospital with Ash. Nikki went to bail him out and he was already gone so I tried my house and the beach house. He wasn’t there, so then I tried his phone and got nothing… then I called…”
Trailing off again, you can almost see her losing it. Sentinel didn’t need to imagine the sight. He’d heard and experienced it with too many others to miss the signs. Having been pacing a bit in an effort to keep his body active and keep his mind from focusing too hard on worry, he stopped short now.
Bethany: “He’s not coming home any time soon.”
Sentinel: ”I’ll try and get in touch with him, see where his head’s at. Maybe he’ll listen to me.”
He did his best to sound reassuring but he was at a loss. Couple that with his own concern for his friend and a little anger at how things went down and...maybe...Sentinel wasn’t in the best of states to be trying to calm someone. That wouldn’t stop him from making the effort, though.
Sentinel: ”You’ve probably not seen the card for the next show, then.”
Bethany: “Oh God, I didn’t even… did something happen? Are you ok? Did…?”
Sentinel: ”...did what?”
He sounds genuinely confused at her sudden concern.
Bethany: “Did you win? How bad was the match?”
Sentinel: ”Oh.”
He chuckles a little, rubbing the back of his neck. We can see quite plainly that he’s got some swelling and bruising as well as a few noticeable cuts on his face.
Sentinel: ”Jones took a piece or two of my hide, but he couldn’t take my title.”
Bethany lets out an audible sigh of relief with comes with a bit of curious surprise for Sentinel.
Bethany: “So, you’re ok? Nothing bad happened?”
Sentinel: ”I’m beaten all to hell but it’s just another day at the office. No, I was referring to the next show and whether you’d had a chance to look at the card for that.”
Bethany: “Oh… no, I haven’t. Why, are we… fighting each other again?”
Sentinel: ”With each other. You and me against Fraser and Baron.”
Bethany: “Oh… that’s…”
Sentinel: ”...better than the alternative. It’ll be a fight for sure but I don’t see it as something we can’t handle.”
Bethany’s voice noticeably brightens, which relaxes the big man.
Bethany: “Best news I’ve heard all day!”
Sentinel: ”Certainly seems to have put a smile on your face for the moment, champ, so I’m inclined to agree. We make a solid team, after all. I know things are busy on your end, but we should spare some time to get together and hammer out some strategy before the show. Pick a time and place and I can be there.”
Bethany: “There’s a gym I’ve been to in Cape Girardeau, has everything including sparring rings.”
Turning quickly to the well-oversized road map which covered the entire United States on the wall of the bus, Sentinel quickly traced his fingertip along one of the printed roads till he saw the name of the mentioned town, then responding to Bethany.
Sentinel: ”That sounds like it’d work for us. Would allow for the opportunity to actually work on a game plan as opposed to talking about it. What do you think? The Thursday or Friday before the show?”
Bethany: “Either sounds good to me, it doesn’t sound like I’m gonna be… all that busy here…”
Suffice to say her lowered tone broke his heart. Immediately he goes back into consolation mode...or as reassuring as the champ got.
Sentinel: ”Well, if you need company or something, let us know.”
Bethany: “I couldn’t, you guys deserve your private time without me ruining the mood…”
Sentinel: ”Yeah, that kind of talk won’t wash. I consider us friends, Bethany, so if you need something you only have to ask.”
Bethany: “Thanks.”
There was a touch of hesitation on her side but she did sound relieved before they exchanged good-byes. As Sentinel pocketed his phone, Talon, who had pulled the bus into a service station off an exit, came walking back to where he still stood staring at the map. She slides her arms around one of his and gazes up at him.
Talon: ”How’s she doing?”
Sentinel: "She’s in rough shape but I think she’ll be alright in the end. Told her if she needed anything to let us know. This thing with Brody going off on his own without a word...I don’t like it. He’s going to end up getting himself in trouble. The kind people don’t typically walk away from."
Nodding in response, Talon turned to look at the map as well. It was easier on her than seeing Sentinel worry and knowing she had only words and wifely support to offer. That apparently wasn’t enough for her.
Talon: "I know you’re concerned, but remember that the challenge has only begun where your title is concerned. The Sin City Knights doubtlessly know that you went through hell with Vince Jones and they’ll be looking to pick the bones if they can."
Sentinel: "I’m not taking them lightly. Bethany and I have already set up time to train and work on a plan of attack for them. Freeman and Baron are tough dudes, the latter having proven that to me one-on-one in the past. He took me to the limit, in fact. Fraser...I don’t think we’ve ever locked up. That makes me anticipate the match even more. After all, lover, you know just how good I am in the tag team environment no matter my partner."
Talon: "Oh, I certainly do. But eager or not, you don’t want these guys surprising you. Hell, taking them down a notch might even make Olivier think of you and Bethany when the time comes to talk about the next top contenders to the tag titles."
Considering that briefly, Sentinel shakes his head with a laugh.
Sentinel: "I don’t think it’d be fair of Bethany and I to dominate three of the four titles in this company, baby. But if Sang Real is going to keep shooting off at the mouth about wanting real competition, maybe we’ll decide that holding the top two belts around here just ain’t enough."
Talon: "I’d love to see that. BUT...Knights first. Loudmouthed pretty boys later."
Sentinel: "Oh, you can count on that. Business before pleasure, right?"
Talon: "Exactly."
The two walk out of the shot and off the bus prior to another fade. When the feed comes up again we’re live at the gym referred to by Bethany Kenyon mere minutes (to us) prior. Sentinel is in the ring alone at this point, wearing enough sweat that his skin glistens under the lights of the fitness center. Black Tapout attire fits well to his chiseled-from-granite frame as he mops his brow with a black towel bearing his red demon skull insignia. Clutching a bottle of water, he pauses to suck down a good half the contents before draping the towel over his shoulder and turning to the camera.
Sentinel: "All set?"
Talon: "Ready and willing."
His response is a nod as he walks to one corner of the ring, leaning against the top rope as he gazes down at the camera. The World Heavyweight Championship hangs upon that black-taped rope, strapped so it doesn’t slip off. Still gleaming and still bearing his name on the plaque, Sentinel takes the towel from his shoulder and, perhaps a little cockily, rubs the gold with it before blowing off obviously imaginary dust. Still staring at the belt, he starts in.
Sentinel: "One down, many to go. Fraser, Baron, I hope you’ve found time since Raising Hell to see the war that was The Violence versus The Silent Destroyer. You’re intelligent men, one focused on protecting those whom he holds dear and one upon his business and the people he employs. So, having heard that we’re clashing in a few days’ time along with Bethany Kenyon, the new North American Champion, I’m sure you’ve taken a gander or three at the main event."
His gray eyes avert from the title to the camera and all levity drops from his expression and tone.
Sentinel: "If not, pause this and get on it. There’s no more perfect example of what you’re in for next Monday night than that. Yes, as you can see I’m still wearing the wounds of war but that’s never been a bother for me. Pain lets a man know he’s alive. Pain teaches lessons no other methods are capable of. Pain...has made me treasure anew what I have in this championship as well as my family and friends. You two, though...I’m wondering if the pain has started to chip away at you, bit by bit.
I’ll be damned before I make light of the trials you’ve been through. You’ve been throwing down with Michael Rivers, Baron, and I’ve enough history with him to know how daunting the little painted-up bastard can be. And you, Fraser, I really feel for you, man. What Cole Hunter and his little streetwalker have done to the people close to you and Baron makes me sick to my stomach. Hunter is a rabid animal that needs to be put to sleep and I plan on having words with him very, VERY soon for some past transgressions that need recompense. But..."
He allows a trace of a smile back onto his face.
Sentinel: "...that’s a matter for a future date. My full attention is on the two of you."
The smile drops off as quickly as it appeared, though his expression isn’t exactly hostile.
Sentinel: "And that’s why I have to say this, Baron, and you’re not gonna like hearing it. Truth hurts, as they say. But you, man, are full of shit. You’re not 100% and you haven’t been for some time. You won’t be again for a longer time. Maybe you just said that to reassure Nicole and the people you work with but I can see through it. There’s not a lot that hides from these eyes..."
He makes the two-finger gesture at his stone-colored gaze.
Sentinel: "...especially when some of what you’re feeling has been percolating behind them. Telling you to get right for a fight wouldn’t be fair, though. No one gets over being betrayed easily. Just ask my friend Eric about that. The kind of shit that has been pulled on you turns good men into vigilantes and worse men into murderers and worse. The Oblivion monkey might not be on your back anymore but what’s within you that gave birth to that dark side of your being...this shit will have brought it screaming back.
I believe you can keep a lock on yourself, though, and stay Baron for the sake of those who look to you for leadership and support. And in that ring, you can throw all the negative energy and rage into your fight with myself and Bethany. That’s about the safest thing you CAN do, in fact. I certainly won’t hold it against you. I don’t think she will, either, considering she’s got plenty of angst fueling her fire as well..."
Seeming to realize where he was going, Sentinel took a moment to refocus, sipping a little more water. His gaze fell to the title again as he spoke.
Sentinel: "I know I ain’t one to preach. I’ve got enough skeletons in my closet to feed three states’ worth of dogs. People still aren’t sure whether they can or should put their trust in me and the fans haven’t yet forgiven my transgressions. But that’s the price to pay for what I did. I don’t hold any animosity toward anyone who doubts in my desire to be better.
No one, however, can doubt my will to keep this belt around my waist and to keep racking up the W’s on my record. And that’s what it comes down to every time with guys like us, ain’t it? The world smacks us in the mouth and kicks us in the junk, daring us to give in, to let the dark side back out. ‘Because it would be so much easier,’ that voice whispers in our ear. You probably felt that for a moment when you were smacking some sense into Fraser. I certainly did when Vince was playing Kick the Can with my goddamn skull.
But it isn’t worth it."
Unstrapping the belt, Sentinel retrieves it from the top rope and drapes it over his shoulder. Just having it in his grip makes him stand up a little straighter, makes his game face just that little bit more galvanized.
Sentinel: "You put a lock on that shit, Baron, and you make Freeman put down the fucking bottle and face the fact that whatever’s at the bottom of it isn’t gonna serve him. Not Monday night, not when you deliver vengeance to your enemies...not ever."
The words might have come out in a harsher manner than he wished, but his intentions were good.
Sentinel: "Except that after listening to you talk, I’m starting to wonder if you’re not as addled as your partner without the Tennessee rye flowing through your system. Potentially dysfunctional? Have you not been watching Mayhem the last month or two or are you just projecting, Baron? Bethany and I are undefeated as a team, having paired up several times. We’re friends and we know what it takes to win...as if the belts we possess aren’t a strong enough indicator of that. But what do I know, right? I’m just in your way, same as Bethany. A steppingstone for you and Freeman to prove yourselves upon. That’s pretty much what you said, isn’t it?"
Talon: "Baby, don’t let that get you worked up. You’ve managed not to let that rile you so far..."
His attention averts enough that we can tell he’s looking at his wife and not the camera, his expression hardening not at her but at the thought of Baron’s comments.
Sentinel: "I’m not riled, Ren. I’m making a statement."
Talon: "If you say so..."
Sentinel: "I do."
Gulping down the rest of the water, Sentinel kneels to set the empty plastic container down, rising to his feet and taking a deep breath. His eyes close and his head tilts back for a moment...then he’s back to staring at the camera. Centered, it seems, he starts off in a tone calmer than it had been moments ago.
Sentinel: "Baron, I didn’t have an issue with you coming into this match. Same goes for Freeman. It was expected that you two would have tough words and a tougher fight brought behind them. That? That would have been just fine. Bring it on and all that jazz."
A finger is pointed sharply at the camera but his calmness of voice is unwavering.
Sentinel: "But being blunt? Your monologue disrespected me and my partner. I think I’ve made it clear several times how that kind of nonsense rankles me."
His hand lowers.
Sentinel: "You want to make examples. You want to prove to the world that SCK are serious business. You want a message fist-delivered to Hunter and Artemis. Fine. That’s understandable.
But you’d better check your attitude at Gorilla, boys, because you’re stepping into the ring with the most dominant sonofabitch that the UWA ever has or ever will see. My partner has held almost every title a person can hold here. We’ve been carrying the banner of this company from the first damn show and for you to even entertain the possibility of using us to jump-start your flagging careers are, put simply, fightin’ words.
It’s about time for you to put vengeance aside. We’re not going to be your examples. Neither Michael nor Artemis nor Hunter or anyone else are going to be sent messages at our expense. You let that mindset color your words and actions come Monday night and the only thing your enemies will get out of this fight is easy prey when we leave you laying in the middle of the ring. Don’t open your mouth again to spew this crap, Baron. Same goes for you, Freeman, once you put down the bottle and man up. You’ve already made this half-personal with me. One step further and I’m going to forget that deep down you’re two good guys just fighting to do what’s right.”
Running a hand through his hair, Sentinel beckons for Talon to focus the camera a bit tighter. He runs a hand through his wet, black hair as he stares into said device.
Sentinel: "One more step...and I’ll forget what you really are and see you as an enemy. When that happens, no matter what I do to you, it’ll be on YOUR head. Not mine. Think of that, of Ember and the others who look up to you for love and protection, before you try to get under my skin inadvertently or otherwise again. You’ll save more lives than just your own."
Delivering his foreboding words, Sentinel leans up again, scoffing quietly.
Sentinel: "Warrior Mode? It’s cute."
Talon: "Awfully cute."
He half-smiles, but it’s malicious as all hell.
Sentinel: "Wait till they get a load of Destroyer Mode."
Talon: "Now, now, sweetheart...have a little mercy, won’t you?"
He snorts.
Sentinel: "Mercy? Hey, if they want shots at our gold and are all about proving their mettle then they have to be able to handle Bethany and I at our best. If you’re gonna call down the thunder, you’d better be ready to reap the whirlwind."
Talon: "How poetic."
Sentinel: "Violence usually is with our kind, sugar."
At that point, Bethany walks back into the room but it isn’t until she rolls into the ring that she notices Talon with the camera and Sentinel with the belt over his shoulder. She gestures as if to ask if she should step aside but Sentinel shakes his head and instead gestures for Talon to take in the North American Champion, garbed in cobalt blue workout attire.
Sentinel: "That firebrand of a warrior and myself. The top two champions in the UWA. The very best this company has to offer. Who’s stepping on who, Baron and Freeman? Keep up your current line of thinking and talking and it’ll be us doing the walking...all over your faces and your future."
Bethany half-smiles at that and Sentinel, after placing the belt neatly beneath the turnbuckles, rotates to meet the stare of his partner. It’s time for another go-round of sparring as they prepare for Mayhem...and a good time for the shot to fade to black.
The foursome approaches the intersection, passing by a few local talents and production team members that stop to watch as the champion and his entourage pass. There's no reservation or nervousness in them when he's around anymore, only a reestablished respect, something that would probably touch Sentinel if his head weren't throbbing after taking one too many boots to the face. Still, he walks upright with his head held high. Time enough to collapse once he was away from prying eyes. However, UWA's intrepid interviewer, Thumper, would try his hand at getting a few words from the champion...something that hadn't gone his way of late. Their relationship had been acrimonious at best after Sentinel won the strap but here, when Zachariah was ready to step in and none-too-gently usher Thumper out of the way, Sentinel held up a hand to still his brother-in-law.
Sentinel: "It's cool, brother..."
Talon: "You sure, baby? You really need to get to the back so I can look you over."
Zachariah looked at the champion somewhat incredulously while Talon's comment, easily taken out of context for those with gutter-dwelling minds, was full of concern. Sentinel shook his head to them both, though, their concern noted but for the moment put aside.
Sentinel: "Yeah, I'm sure. Stick around in case I fall on my face from exhaustion, naturally, but let the man ask his questions."
He gives his attention to Thumper, inclining his chin as he hitches the title over his shoulder up a bit.
Thumper: "If this is a bad time..."
Zachariah Blood: "Man said ask. Do it while you can."
Shooting his brother-in-law a look which surprisingly has Blood laying off, Sentinel turns back to Thumper, cameraman in place over his left shoulder, so that the interviewer can do his job.
Thumper: "Hell of a match you had with Vince Jones out there, champion. Wanted to get your thoughts in the aftermath of your first title defense."
Sentinel: "It's written on my face, Thumper."
The champion points at the cameraman and gestures for him to get a close shot of those wounds. Sentinel points, in turn, to his nose, the cut over his eye and his well-busted lower lip.
Sentinel: "This...is pride. This...is honor. This...is determination. But this?"
He slaps the title over his shoulder and cuts a fierce grin as the view pans back to take in all present.
Sentinel: "THIS is satisfaction."
Thumper: "So it felt good to at last get your hands on Vince Jones?"
Laughing a little, but only a little because it kinda hurt, Sentinel shoved some of his hair out of his face.
Sentinel: "I could talk all the smack in the world about Jones but my face and body would call bullshit on it. Fact is, Jones brought it all to that ring tonight. Not once did I think I'd walk all over him but I was genuinely surprised how much it took to put him away. Now don't misunderstand me here..."
He accepts a bottle of water from Talon, downing a good third of it before lowering it and continuing.
Sentinel: "...because I still don't have a lick of respect for the man. I acknowledge his skill and power in that ring and the run he gave me for my title. But respect? None. Not ever."
Thumper: "Who do you expect will be your next opponent for that title? After defeating Jones, no disrespect intended, new contenders will be looking to strike while the iron's hot."
Nodding with a somber air, Sentinel gazes at the title before shifting his attention back to Thumper mid-sentence.
Sentinel: "That's not up to me. I know they're coming and I'll say the same thing I said leading up to that war with Jones: bring on the world. This title isn't going anywhere until I'm ready for it to."
Thumper: "Any picks then?"
Sentinel: "Honestly? No. If it were up to me, I'd see my next challenger go through the same thing I went through: a tournament with every match making a difference as to whether or not you get that title shot by the end. There's no better to separate the contenders from the pretenders. But in the end it won't make any difference. I'll just buckle down and charge them head-on, same as I did with what's left of The Violence out there."
Talon: "You can bet on that, Thumper. But that's all the time we have for questions right now."
The interviewer needs no further direction, stepping aside for the four to walk past. Sentinel claps him on the shoulder as they walk by and even in his wrecked state that gesture had Thumper rolling his shoulder. But at the very least, they were on better terms. Thumper heads off in the opposite direction and we're shown the last of The Unforgiven entering Sentinel's locker room just before the door closes and the scene fades to black.
Mere moments later the feed returns from within Sentinel’s tour bus. On the long road home, taking advantage of the extra few days post-PPV, Sentinel is nonetheless handling business. In this case, business refers to one Bethany Kenyon, his partner at the next Mayhem. In bits and pieces during his preparation for his title defense he heard talk of a disturbance involving the new North American Champion, her sister and her boyfriend, but it wasn’t until he caught the replay of the show after leaving the arena that he realized the extent of the calamity. His first act was to text Bethany that very morning and again in the evening following. Now, the day after, he was calling and expecting to have to leave a voicemail.
Needless to say, he was worried about the woman, match be damned. It was a good example of the changes that he’d been trying to make in himself, that he was more interested in his friend’s well-being than the upcoming match. The fourth ring would signal the switch to voicemail, but three-and-a-half beeps in, Bethany actually picked up the phone. We hear her voice clearly as she picks up, sounding a little harried.
Bethany: “Dorian? Sorry I didn’t… sorry, it took me so long to return your call.”
Half-relieved, half-concerned, Sentinel brushes off her apology gently.
Sentinel: ”It’s cool. The pay-per-view got hectic in a hurry for both of us as I remember it. Sorry about blowing up your phone with messages.”
Her voice comes back, seemingly ready to break.
Bethany: “It’s… ok. I was looking for Brody.”
Looking for him? Those words didn’t surprise the Silent Destroyer, but they certainly worried him, a sensation showed well on his facial features.
Sentinel: ”Shit...still no word, huh? Damn it. What’s he thinking?!”
Bethany: “He…”
She trails off, clearly trying not to break down.
Bethany: “I went to the hospital with Ash. Nikki went to bail him out and he was already gone so I tried my house and the beach house. He wasn’t there, so then I tried his phone and got nothing… then I called…”
Trailing off again, you can almost see her losing it. Sentinel didn’t need to imagine the sight. He’d heard and experienced it with too many others to miss the signs. Having been pacing a bit in an effort to keep his body active and keep his mind from focusing too hard on worry, he stopped short now.
Bethany: “He’s not coming home any time soon.”
Sentinel: ”I’ll try and get in touch with him, see where his head’s at. Maybe he’ll listen to me.”
He did his best to sound reassuring but he was at a loss. Couple that with his own concern for his friend and a little anger at how things went down and...maybe...Sentinel wasn’t in the best of states to be trying to calm someone. That wouldn’t stop him from making the effort, though.
Sentinel: ”You’ve probably not seen the card for the next show, then.”
Bethany: “Oh God, I didn’t even… did something happen? Are you ok? Did…?”
Sentinel: ”...did what?”
He sounds genuinely confused at her sudden concern.
Bethany: “Did you win? How bad was the match?”
Sentinel: ”Oh.”
He chuckles a little, rubbing the back of his neck. We can see quite plainly that he’s got some swelling and bruising as well as a few noticeable cuts on his face.
Sentinel: ”Jones took a piece or two of my hide, but he couldn’t take my title.”
Bethany lets out an audible sigh of relief with comes with a bit of curious surprise for Sentinel.
Bethany: “So, you’re ok? Nothing bad happened?”
Sentinel: ”I’m beaten all to hell but it’s just another day at the office. No, I was referring to the next show and whether you’d had a chance to look at the card for that.”
Bethany: “Oh… no, I haven’t. Why, are we… fighting each other again?”
Sentinel: ”With each other. You and me against Fraser and Baron.”
Bethany: “Oh… that’s…”
Sentinel: ”...better than the alternative. It’ll be a fight for sure but I don’t see it as something we can’t handle.”
Bethany’s voice noticeably brightens, which relaxes the big man.
Bethany: “Best news I’ve heard all day!”
Sentinel: ”Certainly seems to have put a smile on your face for the moment, champ, so I’m inclined to agree. We make a solid team, after all. I know things are busy on your end, but we should spare some time to get together and hammer out some strategy before the show. Pick a time and place and I can be there.”
Bethany: “There’s a gym I’ve been to in Cape Girardeau, has everything including sparring rings.”
Turning quickly to the well-oversized road map which covered the entire United States on the wall of the bus, Sentinel quickly traced his fingertip along one of the printed roads till he saw the name of the mentioned town, then responding to Bethany.
Sentinel: ”That sounds like it’d work for us. Would allow for the opportunity to actually work on a game plan as opposed to talking about it. What do you think? The Thursday or Friday before the show?”
Bethany: “Either sounds good to me, it doesn’t sound like I’m gonna be… all that busy here…”
Suffice to say her lowered tone broke his heart. Immediately he goes back into consolation mode...or as reassuring as the champ got.
Sentinel: ”Well, if you need company or something, let us know.”
Bethany: “I couldn’t, you guys deserve your private time without me ruining the mood…”
Sentinel: ”Yeah, that kind of talk won’t wash. I consider us friends, Bethany, so if you need something you only have to ask.”
Bethany: “Thanks.”
There was a touch of hesitation on her side but she did sound relieved before they exchanged good-byes. As Sentinel pocketed his phone, Talon, who had pulled the bus into a service station off an exit, came walking back to where he still stood staring at the map. She slides her arms around one of his and gazes up at him.
Talon: ”How’s she doing?”
Sentinel: "She’s in rough shape but I think she’ll be alright in the end. Told her if she needed anything to let us know. This thing with Brody going off on his own without a word...I don’t like it. He’s going to end up getting himself in trouble. The kind people don’t typically walk away from."
Nodding in response, Talon turned to look at the map as well. It was easier on her than seeing Sentinel worry and knowing she had only words and wifely support to offer. That apparently wasn’t enough for her.
Talon: "I know you’re concerned, but remember that the challenge has only begun where your title is concerned. The Sin City Knights doubtlessly know that you went through hell with Vince Jones and they’ll be looking to pick the bones if they can."
Sentinel: "I’m not taking them lightly. Bethany and I have already set up time to train and work on a plan of attack for them. Freeman and Baron are tough dudes, the latter having proven that to me one-on-one in the past. He took me to the limit, in fact. Fraser...I don’t think we’ve ever locked up. That makes me anticipate the match even more. After all, lover, you know just how good I am in the tag team environment no matter my partner."
Talon: "Oh, I certainly do. But eager or not, you don’t want these guys surprising you. Hell, taking them down a notch might even make Olivier think of you and Bethany when the time comes to talk about the next top contenders to the tag titles."
Considering that briefly, Sentinel shakes his head with a laugh.
Sentinel: "I don’t think it’d be fair of Bethany and I to dominate three of the four titles in this company, baby. But if Sang Real is going to keep shooting off at the mouth about wanting real competition, maybe we’ll decide that holding the top two belts around here just ain’t enough."
Talon: "I’d love to see that. BUT...Knights first. Loudmouthed pretty boys later."
Sentinel: "Oh, you can count on that. Business before pleasure, right?"
Talon: "Exactly."
The two walk out of the shot and off the bus prior to another fade. When the feed comes up again we’re live at the gym referred to by Bethany Kenyon mere minutes (to us) prior. Sentinel is in the ring alone at this point, wearing enough sweat that his skin glistens under the lights of the fitness center. Black Tapout attire fits well to his chiseled-from-granite frame as he mops his brow with a black towel bearing his red demon skull insignia. Clutching a bottle of water, he pauses to suck down a good half the contents before draping the towel over his shoulder and turning to the camera.
Sentinel: "All set?"
Talon: "Ready and willing."
His response is a nod as he walks to one corner of the ring, leaning against the top rope as he gazes down at the camera. The World Heavyweight Championship hangs upon that black-taped rope, strapped so it doesn’t slip off. Still gleaming and still bearing his name on the plaque, Sentinel takes the towel from his shoulder and, perhaps a little cockily, rubs the gold with it before blowing off obviously imaginary dust. Still staring at the belt, he starts in.
Sentinel: "One down, many to go. Fraser, Baron, I hope you’ve found time since Raising Hell to see the war that was The Violence versus The Silent Destroyer. You’re intelligent men, one focused on protecting those whom he holds dear and one upon his business and the people he employs. So, having heard that we’re clashing in a few days’ time along with Bethany Kenyon, the new North American Champion, I’m sure you’ve taken a gander or three at the main event."
His gray eyes avert from the title to the camera and all levity drops from his expression and tone.
Sentinel: "If not, pause this and get on it. There’s no more perfect example of what you’re in for next Monday night than that. Yes, as you can see I’m still wearing the wounds of war but that’s never been a bother for me. Pain lets a man know he’s alive. Pain teaches lessons no other methods are capable of. Pain...has made me treasure anew what I have in this championship as well as my family and friends. You two, though...I’m wondering if the pain has started to chip away at you, bit by bit.
I’ll be damned before I make light of the trials you’ve been through. You’ve been throwing down with Michael Rivers, Baron, and I’ve enough history with him to know how daunting the little painted-up bastard can be. And you, Fraser, I really feel for you, man. What Cole Hunter and his little streetwalker have done to the people close to you and Baron makes me sick to my stomach. Hunter is a rabid animal that needs to be put to sleep and I plan on having words with him very, VERY soon for some past transgressions that need recompense. But..."
He allows a trace of a smile back onto his face.
Sentinel: "...that’s a matter for a future date. My full attention is on the two of you."
The smile drops off as quickly as it appeared, though his expression isn’t exactly hostile.
Sentinel: "And that’s why I have to say this, Baron, and you’re not gonna like hearing it. Truth hurts, as they say. But you, man, are full of shit. You’re not 100% and you haven’t been for some time. You won’t be again for a longer time. Maybe you just said that to reassure Nicole and the people you work with but I can see through it. There’s not a lot that hides from these eyes..."
He makes the two-finger gesture at his stone-colored gaze.
Sentinel: "...especially when some of what you’re feeling has been percolating behind them. Telling you to get right for a fight wouldn’t be fair, though. No one gets over being betrayed easily. Just ask my friend Eric about that. The kind of shit that has been pulled on you turns good men into vigilantes and worse men into murderers and worse. The Oblivion monkey might not be on your back anymore but what’s within you that gave birth to that dark side of your being...this shit will have brought it screaming back.
I believe you can keep a lock on yourself, though, and stay Baron for the sake of those who look to you for leadership and support. And in that ring, you can throw all the negative energy and rage into your fight with myself and Bethany. That’s about the safest thing you CAN do, in fact. I certainly won’t hold it against you. I don’t think she will, either, considering she’s got plenty of angst fueling her fire as well..."
Seeming to realize where he was going, Sentinel took a moment to refocus, sipping a little more water. His gaze fell to the title again as he spoke.
Sentinel: "I know I ain’t one to preach. I’ve got enough skeletons in my closet to feed three states’ worth of dogs. People still aren’t sure whether they can or should put their trust in me and the fans haven’t yet forgiven my transgressions. But that’s the price to pay for what I did. I don’t hold any animosity toward anyone who doubts in my desire to be better.
No one, however, can doubt my will to keep this belt around my waist and to keep racking up the W’s on my record. And that’s what it comes down to every time with guys like us, ain’t it? The world smacks us in the mouth and kicks us in the junk, daring us to give in, to let the dark side back out. ‘Because it would be so much easier,’ that voice whispers in our ear. You probably felt that for a moment when you were smacking some sense into Fraser. I certainly did when Vince was playing Kick the Can with my goddamn skull.
But it isn’t worth it."
Unstrapping the belt, Sentinel retrieves it from the top rope and drapes it over his shoulder. Just having it in his grip makes him stand up a little straighter, makes his game face just that little bit more galvanized.
Sentinel: "You put a lock on that shit, Baron, and you make Freeman put down the fucking bottle and face the fact that whatever’s at the bottom of it isn’t gonna serve him. Not Monday night, not when you deliver vengeance to your enemies...not ever."
The words might have come out in a harsher manner than he wished, but his intentions were good.
Sentinel: "Except that after listening to you talk, I’m starting to wonder if you’re not as addled as your partner without the Tennessee rye flowing through your system. Potentially dysfunctional? Have you not been watching Mayhem the last month or two or are you just projecting, Baron? Bethany and I are undefeated as a team, having paired up several times. We’re friends and we know what it takes to win...as if the belts we possess aren’t a strong enough indicator of that. But what do I know, right? I’m just in your way, same as Bethany. A steppingstone for you and Freeman to prove yourselves upon. That’s pretty much what you said, isn’t it?"
Talon: "Baby, don’t let that get you worked up. You’ve managed not to let that rile you so far..."
His attention averts enough that we can tell he’s looking at his wife and not the camera, his expression hardening not at her but at the thought of Baron’s comments.
Sentinel: "I’m not riled, Ren. I’m making a statement."
Talon: "If you say so..."
Sentinel: "I do."
Gulping down the rest of the water, Sentinel kneels to set the empty plastic container down, rising to his feet and taking a deep breath. His eyes close and his head tilts back for a moment...then he’s back to staring at the camera. Centered, it seems, he starts off in a tone calmer than it had been moments ago.
Sentinel: "Baron, I didn’t have an issue with you coming into this match. Same goes for Freeman. It was expected that you two would have tough words and a tougher fight brought behind them. That? That would have been just fine. Bring it on and all that jazz."
A finger is pointed sharply at the camera but his calmness of voice is unwavering.
Sentinel: "But being blunt? Your monologue disrespected me and my partner. I think I’ve made it clear several times how that kind of nonsense rankles me."
His hand lowers.
Sentinel: "You want to make examples. You want to prove to the world that SCK are serious business. You want a message fist-delivered to Hunter and Artemis. Fine. That’s understandable.
But you’d better check your attitude at Gorilla, boys, because you’re stepping into the ring with the most dominant sonofabitch that the UWA ever has or ever will see. My partner has held almost every title a person can hold here. We’ve been carrying the banner of this company from the first damn show and for you to even entertain the possibility of using us to jump-start your flagging careers are, put simply, fightin’ words.
It’s about time for you to put vengeance aside. We’re not going to be your examples. Neither Michael nor Artemis nor Hunter or anyone else are going to be sent messages at our expense. You let that mindset color your words and actions come Monday night and the only thing your enemies will get out of this fight is easy prey when we leave you laying in the middle of the ring. Don’t open your mouth again to spew this crap, Baron. Same goes for you, Freeman, once you put down the bottle and man up. You’ve already made this half-personal with me. One step further and I’m going to forget that deep down you’re two good guys just fighting to do what’s right.”
Running a hand through his hair, Sentinel beckons for Talon to focus the camera a bit tighter. He runs a hand through his wet, black hair as he stares into said device.
Sentinel: "One more step...and I’ll forget what you really are and see you as an enemy. When that happens, no matter what I do to you, it’ll be on YOUR head. Not mine. Think of that, of Ember and the others who look up to you for love and protection, before you try to get under my skin inadvertently or otherwise again. You’ll save more lives than just your own."
Delivering his foreboding words, Sentinel leans up again, scoffing quietly.
Sentinel: "Warrior Mode? It’s cute."
Talon: "Awfully cute."
He half-smiles, but it’s malicious as all hell.
Sentinel: "Wait till they get a load of Destroyer Mode."
Talon: "Now, now, sweetheart...have a little mercy, won’t you?"
He snorts.
Sentinel: "Mercy? Hey, if they want shots at our gold and are all about proving their mettle then they have to be able to handle Bethany and I at our best. If you’re gonna call down the thunder, you’d better be ready to reap the whirlwind."
Talon: "How poetic."
Sentinel: "Violence usually is with our kind, sugar."
At that point, Bethany walks back into the room but it isn’t until she rolls into the ring that she notices Talon with the camera and Sentinel with the belt over his shoulder. She gestures as if to ask if she should step aside but Sentinel shakes his head and instead gestures for Talon to take in the North American Champion, garbed in cobalt blue workout attire.
Sentinel: "That firebrand of a warrior and myself. The top two champions in the UWA. The very best this company has to offer. Who’s stepping on who, Baron and Freeman? Keep up your current line of thinking and talking and it’ll be us doing the walking...all over your faces and your future."
Bethany half-smiles at that and Sentinel, after placing the belt neatly beneath the turnbuckles, rotates to meet the stare of his partner. It’s time for another go-round of sparring as they prepare for Mayhem...and a good time for the shot to fade to black.