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20180107

This is the SSW Promo Page! These are the promoing rules and must be abided by:

NO PROMOS FOR HOUSE SHOWS!
2 PROMO LIMIT FOR WEEKLY SHOWS!
3 PROMO LIMIT FOR PPVS!
4 PROMO LIMIT FOR MAJOR PPVS!
YOU CAN USE HOUSE SHOWS TO WRITE PERSONAL SEGMENTS, INTERVIEWS, OR WHATEVER TO HYPE YOUR FEUD! THIS IS NOT MANDATORY!
PROMOS WILL BE JUDGED BY A THREE-PERSON JURY SYSTEM BASED ON THE WRITER OF THE MATCH AND TWO BOARD MEMBERS!
DO NOT POST CHALLENGES ON THE PROMO PAGE!
DO NOT BREAK KAYFABE IN THE PROMO PAGE! THIS IS FAKE AND STORYLINE!

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on February 1st 2018, 6:15 amRAGE Hazuki
(The camera opens at an airport terminal as a smartly dressed RAGE Hazuki makes his way down the escalator, looking jet lagged and belligerent with a rolling suitcase absentmindedly bouncing down the moving steps behind him.  He catches sight of the humming press at the bottom of the escalator and tries to avert his gaze, but relents with a sigh as he reaches the bottom, realizing that he's caught as flash bulbs and chattering mouths and cameras merge in a sea of sound.)

Reporters: RAGE.  Mr. Hazuki! Mr Hazuki.  Ra-Rage-RAGE

(Dropping his suitcase and letting his fists clench at his side, RAGE snaps forward, creating a wide semicircle of personal space for himself as the reporters scatter backward like sandpipers running from the tide.)

RAGE: One at a time, or none at all.

(After a hush falls across the drove of reporters, one daringly steps into the circle, only for RAGE to charge him, catching him off guard like a possum in headlights.  RAGE nails the interloper with a gross forearm lariat that sends him buckling to the tiled airport floor.  As if someone flipped a switch, the sea of reporters crowd in and start snapping off pictures of their downed journalist comrade.  RAGE rolls his eyes, grabs his briefcase, and parts the crowd as he heads for the exit.  As soon as he makes it outside he's spotted by a portly man sporting a t-shirt sporting RAGE's likeness.)

Sponsor: Hazuki-san!

(RAGE grunts and starts walking in the opposite direction.  The confused fanboy rushes to catch up as RAGE trudges the airport sidewalk in search of an open taxi door.)

Sponsor: I saw what you did to the reporter in there.  Man, that was so cool!

RAGE: Hrm...

Sponsor: Have you heard about your match set for Sendai?

RAGE:...

Sponsor: You're facing Tetsuya Ishimori and Troy Archello.

RAGE: Hai.

Sponsor: I can't wait to see you and Mizuki tear them a new one.

RAGE: Hai...

Sponsor: Mizuki is so cool.  I-I mean you are too, but the Nakada bloodline is so-

RAGE: Hai

Sponsor: I-I don't mean to be rude Hazuki-san, but are you ignoring me?

RAGE: Hai.

Sponsor:...and why do you have a sticker of the American flag on your luggage? Did you come from America?  Troy Archello's American.  He certainly lives like one too if you get my drift.

(RAGE stops in his tracks and scans the line of rental cars and taxi cabs, then turns to his reluctant sponsor.  After a moment of silent joy from having Hazuki actually make eye contact with him, the sponsor picks up on social cues and fumbles to take Hazuki's bag.)

Sponsor: M-my car's this way,Hazuki-san.

RAGE: What kind?

Sponsor: Huah?

RAGE: Ford? Chevy? GMC?

Sponsor: It's...it's a Kia


(RAGE spits on the sponsor's shoes and begins to walk off toward a taxi.)

Sponsor: W-what's wrong?

RAGE: Korean garbage car.  You need something out of Detroit to haul me around.

Sponsor: But Kia's been around since the 40's.  They're dependable cars, I assure you.

RAGE: Not American...is...rice burner.

Sponsor: Well, I don't agree with that.  Kia's an honorable name.

RAGE: So is Nakata in these parts of the world, but you wont see me kowtowing to my tag partner.

Sponsor: You don't seem all that happy about your match.

RAGE: I am, but I'm not going to kiss someone's ass over a dead relative that won dead gold in a dead company.

Sponsor: But heritage-

RAGE: Who sent you?

Sponsor: I-I beg your pardon Hazuki-san.

RAGE: You heard me boy, who sent you?

Sponsor: I hardly understand what you mean.

RAGE: Did SSW send you? Are you some young boy they stuffed in my merch and sent out here to pick me up because you were the only one in the lineup who spoke a lick of English?

Sponsor: Uhum

RAGE: SPEAK!

Sponsor: Yes Hazuki-san!

RAGE: You a young boy?

Sponsor: Y-yes Hazuki-san!

RAGE: I was a young boy once.  They made me clean the steps of the dojo with my own toothbrush.  They ever make you do that?

Sponsor: YES HAZUKI-SAN!

RAGE: Oh? and you took it?

Sponsor: YES HAZ-

RAGE: Why?

Sponsor: To honor the temple that trained me, Hazuki-san.

RAGE: Drop that 'san' crap and call me RAGE, boy.  You pay fealty to your relatives? You worship the men that came before you? You let them keep you down in the dirt where it's easier for them to kick soil in your face?  Why? What do you owe them?  These are men who had their skulls bashed in by Russ "RXR" Rolland, one of the greatest gaijin to ever grace this horrible continent.  You know who Russ Rolland is, boy?

Sponsor/Young Boy: YES H...RAGE!

RAGE: Good.  Everyone should know him.  He won world gold in multiple dead promotions.  Went through hazing and mistreatment by men who thought he came through Japan the wrong way.  He put money in their pockets, he put global legitimacy to their names and championships, and what'd they do? Do you know, boy? Answer me if you know.

Sponsor/Young Boy: N-no RAGE.

RAGE: They stiffed him on pay, so he stiffed them in the ring for the rest of the tour.  He stretched greats, he knocked men's eyes out of socket, and damn near impaled a man's brain with a shotei straight to the point of the nose.  Then he left with their gold.  Do you know what ol' "RXR" did with it?

Sponsor/Young Boy:...

RAGE: That's right.  He took it home to North Carolina and stuck it on a railroad track and waited for the next train to pass through to either derail or snap that gold flaked face plate in half with an axle wheel, then he mailed it back to the promoter one piece at a time like kidnapper sending someone pieces of their loved one.  That promotion became the laughing stock of Japan and soon went out of business, and all because some insecure former young boy who was subservient to someone who didn't deserve it caught a glimpse of what ol' Russ was packin' in the locker room and got jealous of what he saw.  Do ya know what he saw, boy?

Sponsor/Young Boy:...

RAGE: A big, fat, thick, tan, American, wallet that took half the box office back home with him. Now do you think Russ deserved that payday?  I do.  Do you think he deserved being shunned for being a top draw? I don't.  Do you think it's honorable for a bunch of homers to gripe and complain about a man putting food on their little tables until they cost him the last half of the tour's pay? Is that what you look up to boy?

Sponsor/Young Boy: Y-y-yes Hazuki-san.

RAGE: That's what I figured.  Give me your car keys.

Sponsor/Young Boy: Uhum..

RAGE: Give them too me before I decide to up and take'em.


(The young boy hurriedly digs into his pockets and quickly procures his keys.  He holds them out to RAGE, whom yanks them out of his hand.)

RAGE: Now if I were one of those men you looked up to, those guys who call themselves the 'shuyaku', those boot lickers who will bow in my presence and talk crap as soon as I leave, I'd take these keys and drive myself to the arena and make your young boy ass walk, then I'd wreck it half way to the front office and call a cab.  Is that what you want, boy?

Sponsor/Young Boy: No Mr. RAGE.

RAGE: It's just RAGE, and the sooner you learn that, the quicker you'll be able to make it home after you pull these keys from the gutter after I pitch them in there.  Do you think Troy or Tetsuya would treat you any different? You think some weeaboo burn out who couldn't make it in America wrestling a Japanese style while getting sauced off of sake is going to treat you any differently than those  established talents that make you wash their dishes and do their laundry? Do you think that flame out never-was Tetsuya Ishimori's not going to get his jollies off totaling your prized Kia Sorento?  They think they're bigger than you just because they were once you.  Does that make any sense to you, boy? Does it make sense for a toilet scrubber to scrub toilets for a former toilet scrubber?  That's what Tres Comas Club thinks.  That's what all of these jealous ingrates believe. You think Mizuki gives a damn about heritage? She's fighting like me, outside of the parameters set by your little caste system of an existence. Do you think it's fair for a guy like Ishimori to be labeled the next shuyaku just because he happens to look handsome and wrestles like a former established Ace?  That doesn't leave much room at the table for a pudgy little Ramen muncher like yourself, now does it? Is it fair that you have to wrestle a certain style to make them look good? Is it honest that you've been relegated to twenty basic holds that ensure that you aren't going to beat someone you could make a name off of?  You're veal, kid.  They've tied up your legs, locked you in a dark closet, and made sure you grow up tender so that they can have an easier time devouring you.  And for what? Just so you can leave and learn how to really wrestle in a different country where people will treat you more like family than the people back at home?  That's the culture that Troy Archello chose to pander to.  That's the culture that sent Tetsuya to Mexico with his tail between his legs long after he quit being a peasant like you.


(The young boy hangs his head in shame as tears roll down his chubby cheeks.  RAGE Hazuki sizes him up, then pitches his keys into a nearby storm drain.  RAGE waits for a moment, almost as if expecting the young boy to try something.  He then loosens up his posture and straightens the lapels of his suit jacket.)

RAGE: You disgust me.  If you were a real man, you'd take a swing and make yourself famous.  Instead you're getting on your hands and knees and shoving your pudgy frame down that storm drain.  Then you're going to drive me to the hotel, because all those pudgy little legs are good for is taking a bite out of and pushing down a gas pedal.

Sponsor/Young Boy: But the front office-

RAGE: The front office will wait for their star attractions.  Phantom Troupe answers to no one, and the sooner you learn that, the sooner you'll be able to drive me somewhere without digging through run off to get your car keys.  Understood?

Sponsor/Young Boy: Yes sir.

RAGE: Now that's what I like to hear! Now cram yourself through that grating so that I can make it to the hotel bar before it closes.

(The young boy reluctantly begins lowering his huge frame down to the ground.  Rolling his eyes, RAGE grabs the back of his neck and shoves him down to the ground.  As soon as the young boy manages to wedge half his body through the drain, RAGE reaches into his pockets, procures a set of keys, and presses the key chain button, causing a nearby Kia Sorento to flash it's lights and unlock it's doors.  He looks down at the struggling and oblivious young boy, shakes his head, and then hops in the car and drives away.)
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on January 27th 2018, 11:58 pmVanessa Santiago
I.

Ryōgoku Sumo Hall is eerily quiet, and the only sounds that fill the air is the faint echoing of Vanessa Santiago’s steps against the linoleum floor of the backstage corridor. There are no muffled sounds of far-off fanfare from the general direction of the ring, no bright lights, and no colorful streamers. Santiago dons black jeans, black boots, and a form-fitting black Phantom Troupe logo shirt as she slowly walks down the long hallway. Her long dark blonde hair is straightened and draped over her shoulders. Her pouty lips and narrowed eyes are set in a scornful expression.

Vanessa Santiago: One show, that’s all it took. One showcase in front of the entire world. The much-hyped coming-out party of SSW was everything that it was promised to be. The most selfless among us will look back on last week’s show and say it was just the dawn of what will one day go down as a legendary wrestling promotion, but for me? Oh, I’m not worried about what the headlines said or what fans were sitting at home tweeting about afterward. I’m most focused on the emphatic statement that was made last week by The Phantom Troupe. The other factions, they’re waiting, knowing it’ll take time to build their reputations and to build momentum. But just as I advocated before I ever even stepped into the ring with that failure Ishimori, I seize. I take. And so do my comrades. The spot of the top faction of SSW was something that people foolishly believed was something up for debate. The world at large thought there was a power struggle taking place, but to call it a struggle implies that there was ever a chance in hell of us not doing exactly what we promised to do. After the events of last week, we were called many things.

Santiago runs her tongue over her teeth, her tone of voice suggesting that she is proud of the things that she and her allies have done thus far.

Vanessa Santiago: Cowardly. Ruthless. Disrespectful. Devoid of honor. Those words hold no value or meaning. They’re cheap labels slapped on the absolute fucking apex of this promotion by people who could never even dream of understanding why we do what we do or just how high our ceiling is as the undisputed rulers of this company. With one boot to the back of Levi Maximus’ head, Saul proved to him that he wasn’t a god at all -- just a C-grade competitor spewing the same claims of “I’M THE BEST!” that the vast majority of wrestlers do with no means to backing it up. It was cute of him to try and downplay it at the press conference, though. And for those crying foul about how the main event played out...it was a No Disqualification match, right? Only some blind, altruistic Shoot Nation trash like Kawada would go into that expecting a crisp affair. John Doe didn’t do anything wrong. Him and Khmaoch operated well within the rules, and isn’t that what all you puro do-gooders are huge on? Abiding by the rules? There were none, and The Phantom Troupe is the only group of motherfuckers who know how to deal with that. And so we have the first-ever Heritage Champion in our ranks. The first conquest of many.

She sighs happily.

Vanessa Santiago: But of all the things that transpired, my personal favorite wasn’t knowing that the sun rose. It was knowing that La Dictadora did. What happened last week wasn’t me being handed a gift-wrapped victory, no matter what Ishimori says. He didn’t let me have anything. He cut his losses and walked away before I humiliated him, and it’s the only wise decision he’s ever made in his life. Play the tape back. Do you think he was ready for me to trap his arms and elbow away six of his last seven brain cells? He wrote me off, he was ill-prepared, and he started backpedaling the second the reality of his situation set in. It’s just convenient for him that he can wrap it all up neatly in his stupid ass little “tranquilo” bow. I know the truth -- I was the better competitor, and I was always destined to win that match. I was bound to be standing here, standing on the threshold of becoming the inaugural SSW Jr. Heavyweight Champion.

Vanessa clenches a fist.

Vanessa Santiago: Oh, and imagine being the sorry, narrow-minded fools calling me an underdog or an unsafe bet here! I won’t even play the cheap card and reference gender, I’m sure it’s deeper than that. Not only am I sure there are people thinking I got into this match the easy way, my position in The Phantom Troupe probably has led some to count me out. BANG is the leader of Tres Comas Club. Jaydayne Pendragon is the leader of Shoot Nation. And me? I’m the grunt, right? The soldier down in the trenches? The worker bee?

The Cuban expatriate scoffs and rolls her brown eyes.

Vanessa Santiago: You won’t hear me spewing some sob story about how my need for gold keeps me up at night because I’ve worked my entire life for the “privilege” of being called a champion. I’m just realistic. You can’t attain power unless you’ve got some leverage. It helps to have a ten-pound strap to aid in throwing your weight around, you know what I mean? I don’t need a title to fulfill some childhood dream or to pander to an arena full of fans I couldn’t care less about. I didn’t come here to be another name on the payroll or another wrestler on the marquee. I came here to fulfill my birthright -- through violence and bloodshed. I was put on this earth to call the shots, and your voice is never louder than when you have something that people want. The title is a means to an end. An asset for my regime. A piece of the bigger puzzle for my faction. An integral part of my eventual rise to total power.

The end of the statement is punctuated with conviction as she continues down the hallway, the sound of her voice the only noise persisting.

Vanessa Santiago:
On one hand, I’m dealing with BANG, who under different circumstances, I might be mildly impressed with. Laying out your own brother in arms to get here? Forcing your benefactor or sugar daddy or whatever to choose sides between the two of you? That’s a level of self-preservation that most people don’t possess. But maybe it’s dumb to expect anything else from you. After all, you lead Tres Comas Club, and you’re all motivated by the almighty dollar. You rely on corporate sponsors and their well-lined pockets to give you purpose. Their seals of approval as “future world champions” are what get you and your boys out of bed in the morning. Your purpose doesn’t compete with mine. Like I said, the label’s already been assigned. That’s what Montana his buddies see you as, just a good wrestler with lots of potential. And I’m sure it means the world to you, to know that people give a shit. There’s nothing to run from anymore, is there? Knowing that you have a purpose in this world, there’s no reason for you to go running to the pages of your manga, correct? You don’t have the mental fortitude to wrap your mind around anything bigger than what Mark Antony Montana wants for you. Crushed under the weight of other people’s expectations once before, talking to a stuffed cat, probably cuddling with an Android 18 body pillow at night...you’re not cut out for dealing with me. Not right now. Not when I’m this focused on what I want. You’re a prize fighter setting your sights on a prize you can’t win. It doesn’t get worse than that.

Santiago pauses briefly before laughing to herself.

Vanessa Santiago: Nevermind, yes it can. The only thing worse than Antony’s prized possession not doing his one job and bringing home the gold is throwing a man who prioritizes honor in the ring with someone who’s not concerned with that. Yes, I said “someone”, not “two people”. I’m the one you need to be worried about, Pendragon. Humility won’t save you from my fists. Doing the right thing won’t shield you from my feet. You’re doing this for everyone and everything but yourself! “I need to keep the title from the hands of the undeserving, I have to set a good example for my stablemates, I must show the importance of honor…” Have you forgotten what wins matches? All these intangibles you’re worried about? They won’t help you. I’m not surprised of what’s been said by you, a man concerned with unifying the two cultures that compose his bloodline. Funny. You unify, I torch. The hopes and dreams of every single person who dares stand in my way go up in flames whenever I say so. Regardless of whatever group you lead or whatever group’s flag I’m flying, at the end of the day, we’re relying on ourselves to seal this deal. It’s every person for themselves. And no matter what extra meanings or value you assign to what this victory would potentially mean to you, I didn’t come prepared to fail. The white knight can fall on his sword in front of his Shoot Nation buddies and the rest of the world.

As she reaches the end of the hallway where it meets another. Vanessa leans against the wall and shakes her head.

Vanessa Santiago: La Dictadora falls to no one.

Santiago smirks, flashing a Phantom Troupe gun taunt before rounding the corner and disappearing. Fade to black.
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on January 27th 2018, 11:55 pmJaydayne Pendragon
⚔️Whooshing of a sword is heard as a blade cuts through the black and exposes the scene of Jaydayne Pendragon, with his mask on, meditating within a temple. ⚔️

Beauty bloomed, and monuments rose, though many cannot see it, the coming together of our warriors and our spectators as one creates the cherry blossoms and shrines of our time on this land we so adore. We who perform, and you who are performed for, we coexist in an interlocked relationship that could never be messed with, nor duplicated anywhere else in the world with our commitment. I am proud to say that in my first week here I was able to be a part of this, and part of it in a successful way as I ended my first night with all of you with a victory…so much so I couldn’t help but hear a sense of cute jealously⚔️said in a joking manner.⚔️ in my fiancée’s voice as she congratulated me on my successful debut and her best wishes for me and SSW as a whole……But

⚔️Pendragon removes his mask and looks seriously troubled as he looks around.⚔️

I cannot say these times are in complete tranquility, as there are forces who have already set out to throw Strong Style Wrestling off center.

People who have betrayed our purpose…


People who put meaningless personal gain above their role on the roster….


People who in their masquerade have intertwined themselves in the fabric of Strong Style Wrestling…….


These forces of decadence have already taken their pound of flesh, they have already robbed Shoot Nation from a championship, and most importantly robbed Strong Style Wrestling of having a true champion. To say that these forces disturb me would be an understatement, as it should be for every man and woman who competes here, disturbances in your environment can serve no other purpose than to disrupt your chi, poison your mind, and eventually seep into how you act and treat the people around you……if you let it. I won’t. For my own sanity, for the men and women I perform with, and for all of you who support Strong Style Wrestling, I will find and cast out all evils that seek to diminish what we are spreading out there in the world of professional wrestling, I will slice and dice them until they cease to grow out from whatever black muck they come from, until the battle is won the red strife waged upon them will never end.

My opponents this week will be brought to understand this, as the are the very type of individuals that spread the disturbance that I speak of. BANG and Vanessa Santiago, both through their actions andor who they associate with prove that they do not serve the interests of SSW. A man who cheats his own associate, and woman who associates with a group who have made it loud and clear their disrespect and lack of interest for carrying themselves in SSW with any sense of dignity and proper awareness to what makes a company great. They do not understand the blood, sweat, and tears that it takes to set up a truly worthwhile lifestyle in this profession, they only see their ego and malice as beasts meant to be fed in their pursuits. They feed a savage animal, it is true, but soon they’ll find that once you feed that type of animal greater beasts still come about rather quickly for their share of the limited nutrition that all life have. Because justice, honour, and the insatiable desire for a true fight are creatures in of themselves that are raised and nourished by the people of this world, and they too walk with sharp fangs.

BANG you can have your meal ticket serve as your mouth piece all you want, it suits you well to have who decides how you live your life speak for you directly, but this will not save you from the repercussions of what you, YOU, do inside our home.  See people like to think that you’re crazy, someone that Tre Comas Club is too afraid to have come out here without their rich benefactor speaking as your spokesperson, because your insanity would embarrass your collection of hired goons. But considering how shameless Tre Comas Club really is, I can’t help but see it as more so just a tear in the mask, a Freudian slip that you are all acting out by allowing you as its leader to have that fool speak to you. See no one knows what that hustling scam artist is talking about, how your opponents are your bullets yet also cannon fodder that you’re going to shoot at, or how you don’t bleed, so it is altogether pointless to have him come out here as if he’ll bring a point of sense that you can not convey…No the only point for him to come out here is to reveal on its face how much decay and absurdity washes over someone once they allow themselves to become a puppet to the creations that we humans have made and therefore hold the strings. Humans that allow power to wield them instead of wielding it themselves are a lost cause. To be like you would be as if I allowed my sword as a samurai to control me in its hunger for blood, instead of me controlling it for the sake of cutting down my enemies, but you’ll find that unlike you and every insatiability that you represent, I perfectly sound of body and mind.

As for Santiago, while your spunk and training are admirable, everything else about you serves to make an otherwise appealing young lady an eyesore. People run away from people like you in their lives all the time, and unlike Ishimori it has nothing to do with a lack of character, they don’t need to come to observe SSW and be reminded of the types of people they had to leave behind because they were too selfish and anti social to be welcomed members of society. People like you, you always think you’re too assertive, too threatening, and that’s why people don’t like you in your delusions, but the fact of the matter is that people reject those that are too afraid to live their lives without being overbearing and dismissive of others. You’re small, you’re beautiful, and because of that deep down you always had insecurities over if you’d be able to be taken seriously, so you lived your life with this persona of bad attitude and self conceit that beyond your notice removed you from EVER having even the chance to be respected in a real way, so counter productive. That’s how you fall into a group with people like John Doe, who stole a championship from Shoot Nation under dirty circumstances. If one leader goes after a member of one team, it makes perfect sense that the opposing leader would pick out a member to pay back the deed in kind, don’t think that what will happen to you is separate from those that you associate with. I don't know what you seem to think of obligations, but rest assured I always meet mine, and we are obligated to our brothers and sisters. Here in the East, family and associates matter much more than they do in the West, because we as a society function best when the people stand up and make sure that those around them are all standing up straight. If you can’t clean up the mess of your own people here, you get swept up and put out with them.


⚔️End.⚔️

Last edited by Jaydayne Pendragon on January 28th 2018, 12:06 am; edited 1 time in total
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on January 27th 2018, 11:15 pmMasanori Kawada


"ALL-MIGHT" MASANORI KAWADA
Versus Khmaoch Sângkât & Mizuki Nakata (with Candice Blair)
Entry: 2 -- Word Count: 1,403


"I was told from a young age that the elderly possess such great wisdom - tales that would rival the ideals of the greatest of philosophers. That has seemingly gone untrue in the case of Khmaoch Sangkat. Your morals dictated by the scars that have burrowed into your mind, blinded by the ashes of the physical bodies that are now the ghosts of your past. Your words are resemblant to an old fool, misguiding his judgements simply because his philosophies are too stubborn to change and adapt to time. Your judgement towards the men you call stablemates being a shining example. The ties that bind the collective known as the Phantom Troupe is so fragile - easily severed should one's agenda dictate it to be so. And each member is driven by their own agendas, selfish in most cases, desperate in others. Can you really call the men and women that stand to your left and right your comrades? I don't think you honestly can. If you do, you are bearing your fragile organs to the ones carrying the knives they wouldn't hesitate to impale you with. At the end of the day, that is simply what the Phantom Troupe are. Men and women who seek to stand at the very top, hold the company in the palm of their hand. But that isn't a pleasantry that is being intended to be shared amongst them. The individual greeds are far too strong to allow another to stand atop with them, and you know this to be true. But each of you are marionettes, puppets on your strings to the man who pulls them and dictates your future. John Doe says dance and dance you will. Your bonds that keep this collective as one is fictitious, fraudulent to every detail. Your leaders time in the west proves that he holds no one as an ally. He entitles himself as an agent of change, whispering sweet nothings in the ear of a prominent start with tales of grandeur - opportunities that would be made available to him by association. And as those opportunities drew near, trusting the words of the snake that promised him glory, he unsheathed the knife to stab him in the back. Tell me, to what level of bond can one have with such a man who has this kind of history, to use another as a mere pawn he is willing to sacrifice in his games. Or are you so blind to the truth you still wish to wave his flag? I'm sure it is the later, and it is tragic. As soon as he uses you for your worth, he will dispose of you. It is not a matter of if he will, but when he will. But as long as you are willing to bend the knee for him, his sins will become your own burden, and his punishments will be divided amongst those who follow him. The Heritage Championship is only a temporary glory on borrowed time.

Yet you question the bond of the Shoot Nation, that we have no reason or purpose. I wouldn't expect a man of your mindset to understand the concept, even if it stands before his very eyes. The Shoot Nation is nothing if not a group driven by purpose. Each and every member has their own, and unlike the Phantom Troupe, we aren't going to eventually implode and step over each other to fulfil them. Candice has a purpose, to continue her family's lineage through the sport of professional wrestling. Ken Matsuda has a purpose, to be a beacon of hope to those who find themselves at a loss without it. Slug Shakur seeks competition. Satoshi Yoshida like Candice is carrying out his father's legacy in this sport. Tetsuo Miyashiro fights to defend the integrity of the sport we practise. Even our newest recruit in Captain Strong Style seeks to be a role model and prevent scum from being false role models themselves. We may have different forks in the road to our goals, but those goals are the same, and we fight with the same code and ethics that make us one united force. We fight with Valor. We fight for Justice. We fight with Hope. And we fight as the much-needed valiance to keep Strong Style Wrestling going strong into the future. And you questioned, no, downright assumed that this group had no rhyme or reason. Well, you along with your Phantom Troupe have given us one after declaring war in Yokohama. When your leader stuck his nose where it didn't belong, the first shot was fired. And now our rhyme and reason is to fire back, prevent the on-coming chaos and keep them at bay, if not send them in retreat. As long as the Phantom Troupe stands for corruption, the Shoot Nation will always have a purpose to fulfil in SSW and we will not stoop to similar lows to prevail. Those who wave the flag of Justice and Honor may be the ones who take the first bullets in the line of war, but they are not the last to feel the impact of a bullet. When the sound of gunfire ends, it is those who have fought for Justice and Honor that stand tall and triumphant.

When you talk of me, you talk of me with very little understanding. My years under the Ultraman mask were nothing to be ashamed of, in fact to this day I still pay homage to my beginnings in professional wrestling. I saw a good share of success as a premier junior heavyweight in this country and beyond, but the junior heavyweights have a glass ceiling. When I returned, I didn't want to pick up where I left off, I wanted to try my hand at the weight class above, fighting as a heavyweight. So did I come to SSW to reinvent myself? No. I spent the past ten years as a heavyweight, and I found my footing many many years ago. I no longer wear a mask in any regard, the man who walked through that curtain at Yokohama was Masanori Kawada in his purest form; a product of his valor. I hold the ideals of honor and justice sacred, they are no mere excuses for my actions or my defeats. They are what drives me to succeed, to accomplish what I truly came to SSW for, the right to hold the Puroresu Heavyweight Championship, to earn the title of ace that has avoided me for so long. Yet you believe I am making excuses as to my defeat to you for that Heritage Championship? No, I have no excuses to make. The reason I failed to capture that title was not the fault of my own, and I need no excuses to make that accurate claim. You needed a helping hand to become champion, as such you stand as one who is fraudulent, undeserving and cowardly. The stipulation of the match was never a fault. The use of weaponry was all fair game in the battle of wills. You speak of hypocrisy, yet have been speaking nothing but hypocrisy yourself. You are making excuses for John Doe essentially handing you that title because I used a weapon in a match that vindicated it, a meutral understanding we had going in. Must have a nice view in that tower made of glass. You were not built for war, you cracked under the pressure and by hook and crook you managed to escape with the victory, but not by your merit. You are a paper champion and an even more paper soldier of war. The Phantom Troupe are a group of greedy cowards, but this time there is no benefit of an unwelcome helping hand to drag you to victory. The Shoot Nation will earn the triumph they should have earned last week against the Phantom Troupe. You stole that from us, and now we have come to take back what is rightfully ours. Not by your crooked methods, but by handing you the defeat you rightfully deserve. That is the justice that will be served tomorrow night, the justice that will prevail over the corruption you and your band of hooligans and petty thieves brought to our honorable sport. Regardless of who is standing by your side, they will fall with the rest of the Troupe.

So Khmaoch Sângkât... Mizuki Nakata..."
BRACE YOURSELVES!
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on January 27th 2018, 10:11 pmJack Herer
New land - new opportunity. Yet some would dare to argue that things won’t change. That I’m too far gone, too set in my ways; that I’m nothing more than a parody of a joke, a failure dooming himself to another dimension of the same old, same old. Sometimes I wonder if I can even argue those claims. I thought my signing to Strong Style Wrestling would evoke more of a reaction than a scoff from the wrestling fans who I once thought were my fans, laughing at my decision as if I’m some relic of the past trying to make an ill-advised comeback. Is that all it is? My failures from the land across the sea, is that all that’s left to define me? Two failed title runs is appropriate cause to write off my entire career? So what now, you all think I’m nothing more than the sum of my shortcomings? A loser? A has-been? Someone that won’t make it here in the land of the rising sun? A lost cause with no future in Strong Style Wrestling? Whatever words you use to define me, whatever your labels for me are, well, they’re irrelevant. I have one name motherfuckers, and it’s -

Stark.

So maybe I’m not the hottest possible signing to Strong Style Wrestling. Maybe I’m not the most reliable or the most hyped up. But do you know what this company sees in me? Potential. Potential that was squandered by both my own mistakes and factors outside of my control. Potential that has yet to be unlocked, potential that will be brought out by the extremely competitive and rigorous environment native to Japan and by extension, Strong Style Wrestling. I’m leaving the games back in the USA. I’m leaving the weed back in the USA - I really hope the cops hear this and don’t search my new apartment here. I’m leaving the distractions back home. I was too focused on being a rockstar, that I lost my way when it came to competing in the ring. I went from one of the hottest rookies on the scene to becoming a name that was never said not preceding a sigh of disappointment.

Disappointment is a word I’m sick of hearing. I own it, I really do, but enough is enough. Still, I’m no fool. I’m not the kind of man that yells into a cloud expecting things to change - I’m going to be the catalyst for my own career. Every low expectation I will shatter, every naysayer I will shut up, and every stupid, sorry, sack of shit who steps across the ring from me thinking they’re in for an easy ride because “Oh, it’s just Stark” I will kick and knee in the face until they stop moving, then kick them some more while they’re down. Edgy, right? It’s the new tattoos.

Now despite what public opinion of Stark may be, it’s clear that the suits in the back running this whole Strong Style Wrestling operation actually have a good brain on their shoulders! I’ve been given the distinction of leading the faction known as ‘Ronin’, and we have Shark Man. Oh boy.

The mysterious Tres Comas Club is who’s stepping into the ring with Ronin this week. To my partners, I see potential in Shark Man to break through the mold I’m sure everyone would be happy to put him in, as nothing more than a joke. And well, then there’s GOD HIMSELF, Levi Maximus, who went so far as to call me an incredible leader. Color me pink homie, I’m flattered. But Levi is right - Ronin is the perfect mesh of the undesirables and those flying under the radar, and this Saturday is when we raid this place like a storm. Andre Virgo, another rising star, who dares me to not get in his path to greatness. Well Andre, as much as I want you to succeed, the fact is this - you’re eventually going to step into MY path to greatness, and when that time comes, that’s when you need to worry about who’s going to break who. Empty threats don’t phase me, I’ve heard them from men who have accomplished ten times as much as you have, and even then, they fail to deliver. You have a long way to go before you can consider yourself on my level Andre, whatever you’ve seen of my failures be damned. And if you don’t believe that now you’ll quickly learn once you step into the ring with me at the Sumo Hall.

Maximus Grier, I saw what you did to Ryojin last week. I’m impressed, plain and simple. But am I impressed enough? I’ve shared the ring with your brother before Max, and let me say, underwhelming is the first word that comes to mind. The intimidating and mighty Lars Grier couldn’t handle more than one knee to the back of the head, and that’s all it took to pin his sorry ass. Are you as fragile Max? Are you going to make me wonder what the hell all the hype was about, or are you going to live up to it? Are you going to be the superior Grier come Saturday, or are you going to show me that failure simply runs in the family? Jun Nobunaga… I’m going to literally fucking rip your skin off and wear it after I’m done with you. Okay?

This week is not only my in-ring debut for SSW, but my first go-around at leading my comrades in Ronin. Despite whatever people may think about this rag-tag group of individuals, I actually feel nothing short of pride when I look at who stands by me in this faction. We’re not the strongest, we’re not the most dangerous, nor we do have billionaires betting on us and funding us. We have something that no other faction in this company can touch - heart. So I don’t care if I’m seen as a failure. I don’t care that Shark Man and Steven Cassidy may be seen as jokes. They can call us ‘gaijins’ in their ever-so demeaning way, but you know what? We’ll take that. We’ll take all of that in stride and throw it back at all the haters with interest. Because in the end the biggest thing I’ve learned in my eight years in the professional wrestling business is that people who talk shit can’t follow through, and people who resolve to stay resilient always outlast every flashy flash in the pan with a shelf-life shorter than Nutella in France.

What are you gonna do? Shower us in hundred dollar bills? Nah. You’re going to see exactly what makes us Ronin - we’ll fight through any obstacle, we’ll take this company by storm, and we’ll do it the Ronin way - TOGETHER. Starting with these three sorry fucks tomorrow night.
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on January 27th 2018, 9:17 pmBANG


BANG is shown sitting on a chair in an unknown room, presumably somewhere backstage at the next Strong Style Wrestling event. His hair covering his face as he whispers to Minerva in his hands. Mark Montana paces around the chair. After several moments, Mark stops behind BANG, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Mark: … It is almost time. You know what to do, yes?

BANG says nothing, nodding.

Mark: Good. That’s good. You have come so very far from where you were when I found you. You remember those days, don’t you? When you had nothing? When all your hard work and effort were squandered? Don’t worry. You don’t need to worry about all of that anymore. You don’t need to worry about what these people think of you. You don’t need to worry about what they expect of you. They fear you, Ban. They fear you, as they fear the unknown. They cannot comprehend what you’ve become, and that sends a shiver down their spines. They’ve spent their entire lives believing the people they would run into along the way would be no different than them when the come down to it. They expected an opponent that thought like them, that bleeds like them, and an opponent that dies just as they will. But you? No man thinks as you do. No woman understands the way you think. You do not bleed. And you… You do not die. You live in the back of their minds, and you will for the rest of their lives, long as you’re gone. That is why I’ve invested in you. They all fear what they cannot understand, and you know what comes next?

Mark leans down with a determined look upon his face.

Mark: They panic. They fear, and they panic, and they make mistakes. They operate no longer on logic, but on simply trying to survive by any means. They become irrational when they find themselves cornered by a predator like you, and what do they do? They lash out, and they become… Desperate. Jaydane Pendragon.

BANG (whispering): Jaydayne Pendragon.

Mark: Vanessa Santiago.

BANG (whispering): Vanessa… Santiago.

Mark: Never forget those names. The rest of the World won’t. They’ll remember those names for years to come. Every single time they think of where BANG began, they will look at those two names as the two victims that fell before you when the chips were down and the gold was on the line. They aren’t the first, my friend, and they will not be the last. Not by any means. Do you know them? Do you know who they are? What they look like? Where they came from? What they want? Why they do what it is they do? What they have done?

BANG shakes his head.

Mark: It doesn’t matter. All of it does not matter. They’re just names, and that’s all they ever will be. The cold, hard reality of things is that they’re nothing short of dogs in our eyes. In the eyes of Tres Comas Club, there is simply us, and then there is everyone else. They do not have the resources we have. They do not have the talent we have. They have NOTHING. Do you know why they got here and have the opportunity to challenge for this gold? Because they were fortunate enough to not stand before you last week to qualify for this match. It’s sheer luck that they’ve come this far, but when the bell has rung, their luck… Their fortune… It runs out. No more breaks. No more shortcuts. But of course, they will do everything within their power to stop you. You are a threat to them. They stand before you and begin to question every decision they ever made in life that brought them to that moment, and in a contest such as this, they will option to ally with one another. They share a common sense of desperation to succeed. It’s all they’ve ever had to survive up until now. They will use it to get rid of you by any means necessary, and you will not let that happen. Do you understand? You stand above them both in every category. You were chosen. They weren’t. They belong to groups that thrive not on success, but on petty goals that never meant anything, not now, not before, and not after it’s all gone. They look at you and wonder why you don’t belong to a group of rogues like Ronin. They look at you and believe you could stand with the Phantom Troupe. They see what you do in the ring and believe you should be a part of Shoot Nation. You will show them why you stand in Tres Comas Club. You take power. You make money. You will be famous for it, my friend. Make no mistake.

Mark stands back up.

Mark: You know what you must do. Beat them. Hurt them. Kill them. It doesn’t matter. Whatever the consequences are, we will take care of them. No need to ever worry about such trivial things. You are the villain of this story, and if you believe in your mind there will be a hero that comes along to stop you, then do so, but this is not that day. That day will not come for a long time. Until that day, you will destroy, and you will conquer, and you will take whatever you want. Jaydayne will not stop you. Vanessa will not stop you. Nobody. They’re no more to you than canon fodder upon your playground that’s known as Strong Style Wrestling. They’re just bullets, and you hold the gun.

BANG: Bullets…

BANG looks at his hand, forming his fingers into the shape of a gun.

Mark: That’s right. And come tomorrow, you will shoot them. Both of them. You will get them out of your way. Out of our way. You will take that gold for us. You will make them remember who you are, my friend. Not just tomorrow. No the day after that. Not the next week, year, or century. Forever. Show them who you are. Show them why you’re here. Show them that the Tres Comas Club is real. Show them.

BANG admires the gun gesture he’s making. After a few moments, BANG pretends to blow smoke off of the barrel of it as the camera cuts to black.

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on January 27th 2018, 9:06 pmIshimori
(The scene opens into Tetsuya Ishimori walking through the halls of the Yokohama Arena. A white towel is draped around the back of the neck of Ishimori as he walks with his back turned to the camera. Suddenly, a reporter rushes past and into the camera’s view, trying his hardest to capture his attention.)

Reporter: Mr. Ishimori, sir! Sir! I need to ask some questions concerning what we just saw.

(Ishimori stops and you can hear him take a deep breath. He looks back over his shoulder with his eyes closed.)

Ishimori: What about it.

Reporter: You were afforded the opportunity to advance and compete for the Jr. Heavyweight Championship next week --

Ishimori: And?

Reporter: Some people in this company would have killed for that chance - all you did was simply walk away from the opportunity.

Ishimori: I didn't come to this company with the intention of settling for something I'm above; I said it last week - I'm here to become the biggest star in all of Japan. How am I meant to accomplish that by placing my attention on something like that Jr. Heavyweight Championship? I'm sure that BANG would be more than happy to take that championship and do whatever he wants with it.

(The reporter looks on a little confused before hesitantly asking the next question.)

Reporter: Some people are saying that you ran from Vanessa…

Ishimori: Let them say what they like. They're always going to find a reason to talk.

(Ishimori looks to walk away again, but the reporter cuts him off.)

Reporter: Your match for the next show has been announced.

Ishimori: Against?

Reporter: Satoshi Yoshida.

Ishimori: Another bright eyed kid looking for the chance to turn themselves into a star.

Reporter: What do you plan to do?

Ishimori: That's an answer you'll get when the time comes.

Reporter: Can we… at least get a word about the man?

Ishimori: What do you want me to say? I hope we go out there and have the match of our careers! No. If this company wants to try to feed me trash, I'll start treating them like it. I'll walk in, put the man down and go on with my night without breaking a sweat. Now, leave me alone.

(Ishimori walks off as the camera feeds cuts.)
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on January 27th 2018, 8:14 pmSaul Omen
The Song of Saul Omen: Chapter III


[Lit candles appear inside of a cathedral, darkened by the aura that has surrounded the man that sits before the pulpit with his legs crossed at the worship of his deity, before he rises up to his feet. The darkness that surrounds the man starts to recoil back inside of himself, allowing the man time to make sure that his suit and tie looks fantastic, as the back is shown to have the logo of The Phantom Troupe before he turns around. You can almost see the sight of the beast that lies dormant inside of him, a glare from his eyes that’s unnatural to even look upon, before the familiar face of Saul Omen is revealed. Saul brings forth a scowl as he rolls his head around, right before a smirk is shown on his face, breathing in heavily to calm himself.]

Saul Omen: The world saw the birth of Saul Omen in Strong Style Wrestling and how was this birth brought to the entire world to bare witness to? The death of a God. The death of a God plagued with pride and I showed the glory that my God has gifted unto me to be one of the most ruthless warriors inside of that ring. Now, I have sapped the potential and the talent that Levi Maximus has had stored within him, delivered it unto my deity and let me tell you, it was pleased at the offering that I presented unto him. Pride that plagued the soul of Levi Maximus to the core that it was a corruption that had him brought to his knees before a true pure malevolent force. It was a succulent taste for Death that it demands more, but with a different flavor. A different flavor of two men that have decided to stand against the powerful aura of Death and my brother of this group that I have been thrown into called “The Phantom Troupe” in the man with no name, John Doe. I know that these men and women that have been gathered around the idea of joining forces for the complete benefit of their own personal goals while bringing chaos and anarchy onto the entire roster, I enjoy that. The madness and mayhem that is brought through the work of The Phantom Troupe brings glory to the name of Death and allows for the potential of greater tributes for his name. Even if these men find my belief to be a fantasy, they find that Death is just a part of this cycle called life and nothing more, they still are what will lead to the great success for my deity and the mission we have to bring glory to his name. John Doe, he’s a man that I have to respect because he does go through with his intentions, unlike most on this roster. He challenges the ideal of hero, makes a conflict between the terms of righteousness and wickedness, and I believe that to be a courageous effort on his front. The man has no desire for golden plaques to hold on his shoulder, no desire to have his name screamed from the adoring sheep that flock towards the next great hero, but a man on a mission that he intends to see through. How can you not respect a man like that? For the tactics that he implements? For the way that he’s made a target out of shining knights in the eyes of the beholder? Heroes are a fantasy that there is an inherent good within every man’s soul, but they choose to be blind to the darkness that is with every man’s heart. When Saul Omen and his talents gifted upon him by Death itself descends onto the two poor souls of Ronin, outcasts of society that rally around this manifest of unity, the darkness shall feast upon them to divide that unity they share. The innocence and courage of Steven Cassidy, the determination and hunger of Koji Senju, it shall all be absorbed through the punishment and utter annihilation inflicted upon them and served as tribute to Death. Steven Cassidy, Koji Senju, you have been placed on the wrong side of this war and now, Death shall cast his swift judgment upon you!

[Saul Omen gives a confident glare with the knowledge that his partnership with The Phantom Troupe’s enigmatic leader in John Doe shall prove to be impeccable in this fight, turning himself back towards the lit candles to where he takes his crossed leg pose again, humming to where the darkness starts to envelop once more to prepare for another chance to serve tributes to his deity.]
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on January 27th 2018, 2:57 pmSon of Ra



You are the son of a legend...

I am the son legend speaks of...

And that will prove the deciding factor in our CONFLICT!

Oh yaaasss it will Kenneth Matsuda, for you know nothing of true legend in this world. Your father may have been a legend in puroresu but he is not a legend in the other world, in the true land where kings and Gods do battle, where the rivers flow with purified waters that seep into the Nile. You sip from filth compared to that Kenneth, and so did your father unbeknownst to his stature. AAAHHHHHHH but I do have news for you dear mortal, oh it is grand news indeed. You will see the waters, you will get to dip at least one toe in them before the Gods know that you are in their domain. After that you will be cast down into the Duat! But in that purified moment in the field of reeds, you get to experience the land of my father, you get to see the Sun, YOU SEE THE ENTITY KNOWN AS RA!!! You then get to feel his glow, and as he sees that you have invaded his domain he wil raise his mighty spear and IGNITE his mighty blaze, and INCINERATE you!!! But Kenneth you do not just get to feel the mighty blaze of the one who helped create the once in a millennium being who stands here to speak to a normal mortal like yourself. For before you feel the fire, you will see that this sport of mortal gladiators with heightened drama and admiration from the spectators in this Colosseum holds no bars and prisoners. And you will fall from that pedestal you think you are on when I bring the weight of the world down upon you. You are no Atlas, you know nothing about the way to position a planet across ones shoulder blades. 

OOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHH you do not know about that indeed young Kenneth Matsuda! So feed off the kinetic energy from your fingertips to the guitar that might have the same components as one invisibility cloak, or a jet of invisibility! But that will not save you, no amount of energy will help you escape from the pain and turmoil your body and mind will endure tomorrow. So feel free to run, feel free to hide, and pray as well Kenneth, for nothing on this plane of existence will keep me from proving to the Gods that I belong in the field of reeds along side them. My heart will not be weighed on the scales of Anubis like a common man, and the feather will not determine the fate of I, Atem Octavian Amun-Ra. But the feather will decide your fate Kenneth, ooohhhhhhh yyyaaassss, the pen is mightier than a sword, and the feather will be heavier than the heart if one truly deserves to be in the field of reeds. But if you would like to know your fate Kenneth I can tell you right now. You will walk the Duat after Anubis sees that the feather judges your heart and reveals that you sir are not PURE enough to walk in the path of the gods. A vile plague will fall over you and your family if you dishonor the legend of your father Kenneth, but a plague will fall over all mankind if the deity who presided over my birth a millennia ago sees that I have failed him. All of Egypt, all of the world that sees the waters of the Nile will fall ill, and the little dogs of their children will suffer as well! And I for one will not let the children of the Nile, or their canine companions fall ill because a man of your stature would have defeated me. 

So prepare yourself Mr. Matsuda, prepare for the ultimate conflict of your human life. And when you look upwards to the lights of the arena, and you see the glow that is as bright as the Egyptian sun above you, you will know that the blaze cannon has been ignited and the Rage of Ra is upon you. And as you take that final breathe before we begin the wrappings and you see the scales and Anubis before you, know that I...The Last of the Ancients, The Great Atem Octavian Amun-Ra has sent you to your doom. So prepare, prepare for your IMPRISONMENT in the SARCOPHAGUS of OBLIVION!!!! For on the 28th Day of the 1st Month of the Year 2018...



YOU WILL BE MUMMIFIED!!! OOOOHHHHHHH YYYYYAAAAASSSSSSS
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on January 27th 2018, 2:44 pmKhmoach Sangkat
RISING SUN: I


Heritage

Legacy

Blood

Each of these are fine reasons to answer the call of war. They are bonds which are at once stronger and more reliable than those purchased by coin, and also more tangible, more substantial than any platitude so thin and ethereal as “honour” or “justice”. And yet these true values are so often overlooked. It astounds me sometimes. I mean… What sense is there in the hounds of justice waging for for their honour? After all, in war honour and justice always take the first bullets. And by the same token, is it not insanity that possesses the billionaires’ dogs to fight for fortune when war itself carries such a terrible cost? I suppose there are worse things. Those who align themselves with Shoot Nation or the Tres Comas Club may have instead found themselves living as Ronin. That is, without creed, nor master, nor any true semblance of purpose. To fight and to suffer for a phantom premise is evil enough a thought, but to do so without rhyme nor a reason at all… that is surely the purest form of tragedy. The other factions that vie for domination of SSW are doomed by their own stated missions. But the Phantom Troupe, we see the truth. Although we each may have our individual agendas to fulfill, the ties that bind us are ultimately the strongest and most reliable. Heritage. Legacy. Blood. When the drums of war thunder around us and its beacons burn with hellish fire, these are our heavenly virtues and our guiding principles. As long as this remains true, we shall no stand to be victims. We are not heroes and neither in truth are we villains. We are merely what we were born to be. We are, as Vanessa Santiago might proffer, dictators - born to rule. As my partner this week, Mizuki Nakata, we are the legacy of generations refined. And myself and Saul Omen especially, we are the surviving sons of fallen fathers. Souls baptised in blood. Bound by it. Who, everywhere we wander, stare death directly in the eye, hear his terrible song and heartily sing along in chorus, raising our voices to this requiem for a dream. One could even say our leader, the enigmatic John Doe, is alike in this sense. On the surface he is an odd fit. A man whose very name and history is kept closely guarded against his chest. Yet, is it not the most precious treasures which are most carefully hidden? Or perhaps the darkest secrets that should never suffer to break out? In the brief time that I have known him, I am already beginning to see that John Doe is a man who knows his vital place in the order of things. Yet, more importantly than this, he understands just how powerful this knowledge is.

Alas, not everyone is to be so wisened. You, Kawada, are the perfect example. It is telling that, right from the very fore, the most successful years of your career came when fighting not as yourself but under a 3rd hand mask passed down from a half baked Kaiju movie. Yet, despite this success at Jr level, it was never enough was it? It never satisfied you nor truly fit correctly. Now here you are at Strong Style Wrestling still halfway in the process of reinventing yourself. Reinvention because you have not given up the mask, only traded it for another. Rather than simply doing what must be done, you continue to hide behind this veil of falsity, behind the excuse… or the excuses of “justice” and “honour”. You were warned Kawada. I thought we had an understanding. “This is war”! We both acknowledged it as such but only one seems to have understood what that means. I told you beforehand. In war, Justice always takes the first bullet but you shrugged it off. That is your sin, not mine Kawada. I am not like you, that is what you failed to recognise. I do not speak in vain platitudes. My words have meaning. They carry weight. When such heavy stones are tossed, one would do well to heed them or to… As you say… Brace Yourself! And yet, even now you continue to pollute the air with excuses. What occured on our first collision was “just” insofar as not a single law or written edict was broken. Perhaps it offends your arbitrary “honour” but even so, the stipulations did not offend your honour when it suited your purpose, only when it didn’t. May I remind you that neither Masanori Kawada nor any member of Shoot Nation when you spoiled a pure, clean fight by being the first to introduce a foreign object from under the ring. You were only up in arms when the Phantom Troupe responded in kind by introducing a “foreign object” of our own. Yet, we only exercised the right we had been afforded. We saw the situation for what it is and accepted it for what it is. Meanwhile the honour and sense of justice that you hide behind in defeat is nothing more than petulant hypocrisy. You were not prepared for war and you paid the price, it is as simple as that.

As for I, I do not harbor any guilt. Truth be told, I have slept more softly in my sheets this past week than I have in perhaps decades. The aches and pains of years have been numbed in gratitude. And I feel some blessed peace has found my my father’s spirit and mine alike. By I shan’t make a mistake. This is only the beginning. The fires of war will continue to rage and I am sure that we will meet in that ring many times over. There are conquests to be had, blood to bleed and regretful nightmares lying in wait to torment us all with sleepless nights. But it is what it is. This week I stand alongside the prized scion of the Nakata Dynasty. Born out of the shadows of the past, we emerge to spirit away with those precious things. Every unimportant pain or urge is transient and incorporeal. And so we are indestructible. Our ghostlike ambitions ever undying so as to haunt your days and pierce your veil of conceit. Not even the Ava sister can help you here, Kawada. No number of misguided fools bearing the bearing the mark of Shoot Nation can dance with the Phantom Troupe along to the jarring rhythms of this discordant system.

This is the pride of our heritage,
The inherited legacy of our forefathers’ wills,
The right of our blood.
Nothing else matters.
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on January 27th 2018, 7:01 amShark Man
Shell Yeah, Shark Man is going to make his debut in SSW. I also have to say that this is the first time ever I will wrestle in Japan. I’m not afraid though because I’m The Sea’s Toughest Son of a Fish and I along with the rest of Ronin Fishes are going to take SSW by the storm. Everyone will love that, yay.

I’m going to make my debut where I have Stark and Levi Maximus in my side. They both are tough fishes as well, they are as strong as bulls, fast as hell, and tough as nails. They will burn every single ugly fishes with ease. Oh Shell Yeah, Ronin will kick Andre Virgo, Maximus Grier, and Jun Nobunaga right in the asses.

Well, apparently, Andre Virgo has opened his mouth and I have to say, he’s just a straight up dummy. I join Ronin because I love every single one of them. If you were in Ronin, I will love you too Andre, but that’s not the case. I don’t hate you or Grier, or Nobunaga for that matter though, but we have to beat you all this week. Don’t worry, I will still give you all my Clam Juices.

And That’s The Fishin Line....Cause Shark Man said so!
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on January 26th 2018, 7:24 pmSteven Cassidy
[The following scene takes place right after Steven's match against Koji. Steven is immediately met by his trainer, Bruce Whitmore.]


••I feel ashamed. There's no other way to put it. My first match in Strong Style Wrestling, in front of thousands of screaming passionate fans, and I let them down. They wanted to see more from me. They deserved to see more. What transpired out there in the middle of the ring was my nightmare scenario come to life. I wanted to have a decent showing at least. To give the fans a glimpse of what I can bring to the table. I guess it's back to the drawing board for me. In other news, this ice pack on the back of my neck feels nice. The coldness takes my mind off from the match. Even if it's just for a bit. It gives me an escape. It calms me. But that all goes out the window as I see Bruce standing before me. I know he's going to let me have it. I have no other choice but to listen to him.••


Steven: Look, Bruce, I know I screwed up but—


Bruce: Hey rook, let me stop you right there. Don't do that. Don't be so hard on yourself. What you accomplished out there? I'm proud of it. 


Steven: Wait really? 


Bruce: Oh yeah! I mean if I was deaf, dumb, and blind child like you, I doubt I could have done much better than you Number 9!!


Steven: Ohhhh..


Bruce: What? You want me to coddle you and your precious little feelings? Be some supportive dad and tell you I'm proud of you even though you f***** up? No, you disappointed me. What you did out there, that wasn't even wrestling. No, what you did was you went out to that ring in front of thousands of fans, squatted down, and took a big ol' s*** on the canvas. That was by far the worst performance I have ever seen. Did you even get a lick of offense in? Did you land a single punch? 


Steven: I uh, I don't know.


Bruce: WHAT WAS THAT, ROOK? I COULDN'T HEAR YOU! SPEAK UP! 


Steven: No, I didn't land a punch. 


Bruce: F****** pathetic. But you know what? This is my fault. 


••Bruce stays silent, giving me the signal to comment and ask why he thinks it's his fault but I'm honestly afraid to do so because I obviously know it's a trap. I just want this day to end. I want to get out of here. Go to my hotel room and hide my shame under the covers. But Bruce is having none of it.••


Steven: How is it your fault? 


Bruce: I've been too easy on you. I knew I shouldn't have been so nice to you. You f****** took my kindness for granted. No more mister nice guy. Once this show is over and the arena empties I want you running up those stairs until you pass out, do you hear me? Oh and that's just the tip of the iceberg. Once you faint to the ground I'll pour cold a** water on you to wake you back up so you can run 200 suicides followed by 150 up downs on the hard concrete floor. Don't you dare give me that look! You did this to yourself. Now go to the locker room and think about how badly you screwed up, you complete and utter worthless piece of s***. Go on. I want you out of my line of vision before I finish the job Koji started. 


••Yep, that went about as well as I could have expected. But what he said worries me. Before my match, that was him being nice? He can get meaner and angrier? What have I signed up for?••


[This next part takes place current day at some gym. Steven meets Bruce who looks at his watch.]


Bruce: Tell me rook, what time is it? 


Steven: 8:30 AM..


Bruce: Yep, you're late. 


Steven: How am I late? You told me to meet you here at 9. 


Bruce: Yeah when I give you a time, I expect you here two hours early. How badly do you want this, huh?


Steven: This? What's this? 


Bruce: I'm talking about success! How badly do you want it? Apparently not as badly as you want sleep! You do realize that while you're sleeping in, just about every single wrestler on the Strong Style Wrestling roster is out and about, improving themselves in any way they can, right? Just don't. You opened your mouth, meaning you think you have a proper response to what I said, but you don't. See this camera? I'm filming your promo this week. 


Steven: Why? Where's the cameraman from last week? 


Bruce: Isn't it obvious? SSW is ready to give up on you already. Last week, you showed nothing. The cameramen aren't going to waste their time with someone who will most likely get the pink slip any day now. So here I am, going the extra mile to help you out! You're welcome. Aaaaaand action! 


••Once again, I don't feel prepared. This is last week all over again, if not worse. Bruce is right, after my terrible performance last week, I've added more pressure to myself. I have to rebound this week, to give Brian Daniels confidence that he made the right decision when he hired me. I'm also grateful that Bruce is helping out, he deserves a handshake.••


Bruce: First of all, I'm recording. What is with you and wanting to shake everyone's hand you freak? Now please, wipe that blank look on your face off and let your opponents have it! 


Steven: Hi again, it's Steven here again! I just used the word again twice in that sentence, didn't I? Yup, I sure did. So um here I am, on a Friday. Today is Friday right? Yep it is! I'm uhhh I'm here to talk about my match this week. Yeah, that's right! A tag match. So I'll have a partner and we'll face two opponents. Two v. two. Four total people. Divided into two teams. Should hopefully be exciting and whatnot. So the cat has already been let out of the bag.. I'm facing John Doe and Saul Omen this week, oh boy. Like I get we are going to fight each other and stuff but I really hope this match doesn't come between us and ruin a potential friendship. Yeah, that wouldn't be ideal. But John Doe, my man, you did a bad thing last week. To make things worse, you never apologized for what you did which is pretty messed up. Do you have no honor? 


Bruce: Zzzzzzzz, boring. I think I can speak for John Doe when I say he doesn't care. He doesn't have morals, so what? He sees professional wrestling for what it is... a cutthroat world. Feelings? Emotions? Leave em at the door. Between those ropes you need to be a cold-blooded killer. Something you will eventually learn. 


Steven: That right there is what I fear most. I've watched professional wrestling all my life. Meaning I've seen all the twists and turns and betrayals. This business changes people and I don't want that to happen to me. So I don't want to end up like John Doe, with all due respect. Is he talented? Sure. I'm not here to dispute that. But I don't want my ego to overpower me. Just like I don't want to put myself first, which I know, that might be a foolish thing to say. Everybody is here to collect accolades and build a resume to prove they are one of the best in the world today. I too would like to one day wear a championship around my waist. But I want to do it the right way. I don't want to have any doubts. I want to be able to look at myself in the mirror and be proud of my achievement. John Doe robbed that from Khmoach. But I'm sure he doesn't care. I'm sure the shine from his title blinds him from reality and clouds his better judgment. They are both a part of The Phantom Troupe after all, so I'm willing to guess John and Khmoach share a similar mindset. Just like my partner this week and fellow Ronin member, Koji, we have the same code of honor instilled in us. 


Bruce: Holy f***, you didn't stutter for like two minutes! That's a personal best. 


Steven: Oh why would you bring that to my attention? Now I'm going to think about it, hoping I don't trip all over my words. I forget what I was going to talk about. Umm, Bruce, can you help?


Bruce: What am I? A lifeline? Is this Who Wants To Be A Millionaire? Call me and I hang up on you. Poll the audience and I'm going to purposely chose the wrong answer. I'm not Regis Philbin you dope. 


Steven: Hey whatever happened to Regis? 


Bruce: Can you f*****g focus? 


Steven: Right. I was talking about my match. Oh yeah I was talking to John Doe. So look John, you're right. You're right when you say I had an awful showing last week. A match that many would assume I'd want to forget. But no. I want that memory burning in my brain. I relive that embarrassment every single day. It's the first thing I think of when I wake up in the morning and it's the last thing I think about when I shut my eyes at night. Mistakes will happen. I am human after all and I will learn from this mistake. I will get stronger. And I will be better. I mean I can't do much worse than last week right? Oh god I hope not. But umm, if you think you have me all figured out, then you are more ignorant than I thought. This is week two of Strong Style Wrestling. We are very much still in the feeling out process. So therefore, I think it's way too early to sort the contenders from the pretenders. Who knows, maybe Koji Senju is the best professional wrestler on this roster. He can make any man look like a complete and utter fool between those ropes. I would know, since he put me away with ease. That's what he's been doing his entire career. I've seen his highlights and I can confidently say that he is the real deal. And that right there is why I aligned myself with him. I hang onto his every word. When he is willing to share his wisdom and insights on what it takes to be one of the best, I lend my ear and I listen closely and carefully. I absorb all of his lessons. I know that as of right now, I have my work cut out for me. I'm not a John Doe. I was never good enough to make it to that other major wrestling company that you landed on. And that's fine. I don't want to be the next John Doe.  I don't want to be the next anybody. I want to be my own man. I want to carve my own legacy. And like I already stated before, I'm going to do it my way, by staying true to myself. I would rather lose like I did last week for the remainder of my time in SSW, whether I'm here for the next decade or if I'm just here for a cup of coffee, then take shortcuts like you, John. You can laugh it off. Scoff at my words. Question my thought process. Whatever you want. 


Bruce: ..Ok, and? 


Steven: That's it. 


Bruce: Thought you were about to say something badass. Like, John you can laugh at me all you want, let it all out now because come Sunday night it's going to be difficult for you to make any sound after I knock your teeth down your throat. 


Steven: Oh no, I'm just saying he can laugh or scoff at me if he wants. It's his choice. 


Bruce: You're such a p****y. What about your other opponent, Saul? 


Steven: I don't really know much other than he defeated my friend and fellow Ronin member, Levi. 


Bruce: Okay I can help. So basically he was or still is in a cult. His dad killed his mom. He then prayed his dad would die. Then he started training and s***. So go. 


Steven: Wait what? A cult? I just watched a documentary on Jonestown. Oh um, I gotta go. I have this thing. Can't be late for it. 


Bruce: What? 


Steven: Yeah uhhhh see you later. 


[The End]
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on January 26th 2018, 12:29 pm中田水木

So, here we go. We're going outside JET now and this time, I'm going to fight some men as well. This is not a new scenery for me. I am always trying new things and it works really well for me. Even JET has hosted one Ultraviolent event only for me even though that place is most likely only for pure wrestling, they did it anyway. And I am enjoying it, I am enjoying every single challenge they laid it on me. This is a brand new one so I am so down for this. JET might be making my name big as I already become a multi-time champion, single or tag but when I spread my wings even wider to fight all those talented wrestlers around the world, then I can have as many experiences as I can. of course, I am always up for this challenge.

This time I am facing someone who comes from America only to feel how wrestling is one sacred sport in Japan. I read some biography of her that Miss Candice Blair is someone who comes from a famous Ava family. I think her sister is wrestling in EAW with Zakkii-san, I guess? Yeah, I think they are. Well, it's good to have someone fighting as a representative of their family, like I do. I am fighting with the name of my family who is already esteemed all across Japan. I might be fighting differently than them, but I keep proving that the family will always get used to any kind of style as the era keep moving. They maybe can keep their "stuck-in-the-past" attitude but not for me! I am a versatile one, I can do whatever style that I want and still, I am keeping the legacy of the bloodline with my style. I don't know the intention of Miss Blair fighting here. I might see it next when I fight here, but that is mine. I made my intention clear to all of you.

And her partner is someone who is already in this business for so long. He's already getting in this industry way before I was even born. Mr. Sawada is a veteran and he might be fighting my father in early 90s or something. Yeah, with all that old-school wrestling they were showcasing of course. But here, in the present day. 2018, the time where everything has to be versatile. You are good at one thing, but also have to be good in another thing as well. I am trying to achieve that. I fought a wrestler in the kawaii division, fought against those ultraviolent guys in some deathmatches, and now I am fighting someone from America and one veteran. I can do all those at once, I am not a picky person that have to stuck just for one thing. So, Bring it on, two of you. I want some challenge and I am here to win that challenge to prove that I am good in all terrain.

Eeh, I am hanging out with this Phantom Troupe guys only for fun. It's not that I don't really like them or anything. They are good and always giving me a lot of advice when I go to that ring. I get a lot of knowledge from them even I know those crowds are not really on their side but eh, I am taking their lesson anyway. I need some guidance and they give them to me. Of course, I am going to humbly accept it because knowledge is always a good thing for us anyway. So yeah, I am here, ready for my debut and I am going to show you who I am with style.... My own style! See you guys out there!
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on January 26th 2018, 11:34 amMasanori Kawada


"ALL-MIGHT" MASANORI KAWADA
Versus Khmaoch Sângkât & Mizuki Nakata (with Candice Blair)
Entry: 1 -- Word Count: 1,163


"Failure is a hard pill to swallow. I came to SSW to be the absolute justice - to prosecute those who bring a threat to the future of this company. I made a mistake. I made a mistake thinking that SSW couldn’t be harbouring such hooligans at such an early stage of its existence. Sure enough, I paid the price for making such a foolish mistake. I believed Khmaoch Sângkât was the seed of evil that would bring about the corruption of that locker room what with his anarchist ideals and threats to hold down this company as some form of relief from his pasts clutch on his moral compass. Only to find out the seed has already sprouted its roots into the grounds this company is forged on. And that seed of evil that was planted goes by the alias of John Doe. A self-righteous vigilante who justifies their wrongdoings as being the acts of an agent of change. It turns out that the rest of the Phantom Troupe are but the roots that are trying to suck the life out of this company until there is nothing left but an empty husk, all the while John Doe wrings his hands as he watches the carnage he has started play out. I can't speak for the rest of my faction, my Shoot Nation stablemates, but the Phantom Troupe needs to be pulled out of this company's ground by the roots before it terraforms SSW into a land of chaos and anarchy. And then after the roots are pulled from the earth all that is left is to destroy the seed. I don't care what John Doe's philosophies are, how he justifies his unjust actions, eventually I will prosecute him for the wrongdoings he sparked in Yokohama at my expense. On that night, when defeat was imminent to Khmaoch Sângkât after the K-Dynamite, John Doe intervened and cost myself as well as my Shoot Nation cohorts the honor of being the first to hold the SSW Heritage Championship. Every member of the Shoot Nation knew the implications of that match, No Disqualifications essentially being an open door for whoever wanted to try and tip the scales in their favor. We knew that fact and each of them swore to me that they would not interfere, we would not stoop to that low for the sake of glory. And they have all earned my respect for keeping to that promise. But it was foolish of me to think that common thieves would hold a similar honor. That mistake cost us the Heritage Championship, and I feel ashamed to have let this crime against us play out.

But it will not go unpunished.

Although I do not speak on their behalf in their own conflicts, I DO speak on behalf of the Shoot Nation faction when I say we will not be taking this injustice lying down. With his actions in Yokohama, John Doe and his Phantom Troupe undelings have declared war against the Shoot Nation. It is the time I live up to the nickname-sake of the Absolute Justice. Every member that follows the man waving the Phantom Troupe flag are guilty by association and will be prosecuted swiftly. Until it is his time to face the strong arm of justice himself. And the unrooting begins at Ryōgoku Sumo Hall on the 28th.

My partner for the evening in Candice Blair has every right to be concerned. After the events of the Heritage Championship match, she has every right to believe that my crosshairs are sighted solely on Khmaoch Sângkât as a form of personal redemption for thieving the title. If I were a man driven by such selfish desires as revenge, that would be the case. I can assure her this is no personal path of redemption, at least not one that I will be taking alone. The Phantom Troupe has declared war, and I know the Shoot Nation isn't going to shy away from facing them head-on. And with Candice herself, she stepped up and echoed a similar statement. That in itself has earned my respect and makes me proud to say that she is my sister-in-arms this week. She wants to show the world what she has got, and I have no reason to doubt she will be a stellar athlete in SSW. There is a sense of honor between us, which is something that can not be said by the petty thieves that we stand across the ring from.

Khmaoch Sângkât is a commendable fighter. I will not take that away from him. Last week, he had a lot of fight in him, more so than I would have suspected to be harbored in a man of his fifties. There is still a youthful fire behind his punches, and his mat game is superb. But if Yokohama was an example of anything, it is that he has a breaking point that I can meet. It took the interference of his leader for him to ultimately keep me down. Now as the Heritage Champion, he is on borrowed time. Be it myself or any other member of the Shoot Nation, we'll be gunning to get back the championship that should rightfully be in the name of our camp. You may cling onto the physical possession, but the triumph and the glory will not be something for you to proudly relish in. We will take that away in your defeat on the 28th. As for Mizuki Nakata, the Ultraviolent Princess, she is an unfortunate victim of guilt by association with this group of craving hyenas. Coming from an honored family of the sport, yet taking a different route from theirs in an attempt to establish herself as an individual instead of being just another member of the said family line, that is a commendable way to go about this business. I would be a hypocrite to say that stepping away from a lineage that has bred success is a fault, after all, look at how I got my start in this industry and how I stepped away from it to become an individual, having my own legacy to forge. It is just unfortunate to who you have become affiliated with as a result. You otherwise seem like a nice kid, but no root of the Phantom Troupe shall remain in the foundation of these grounds regardless of that.

To the rest of the Phantom Troupe, especially to John Doe, I suggest you heed this warning. You fired the first shots of this war, and it is a war we in the Shoot Nation will see through to the end. It doesn't matter how many of you there are, what tactics you will try to use in an attempt and gain victory, In the end, Justice WILL prevail. So on behalf of Candice Blair, Myself and the rest of the Shoot Nation.

Khmaoch Sângkât... Mizuki Nakata... John Doe... The Phantom Troupe!"
BRACE YOURSELVES!
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on January 26th 2018, 7:24 amLevi Maximus
The important thing mindless individuals need to know is that a god does not fail, they merely have setbacks.


I have never had a moment of failure in my life. I take every moment I get and seize it to my utmost advantage. Failure isn’t a word in my vocabulary, because I simply do not allow myself to have a loss take over my body and ruin my confidence. I know exactly what I am capable of inside that squared circle. I lost last week fair and square. But you know what else? That match I had was one of the most talked about matches on the entire show. What does that tell you? In the middle of a bunch of championship matches, contendership matches and squash matches, Saul Omen and Levi Maximus went to the absolute limit and that night, and Omen was the better man. It’s a setback, not a failure. I know how to pick myself back up off the ground and keep fighting until every mother fucker is beneath me just like I already know they are. I would offer my congratulations to the man but I already know that when we meet again, the end result will not be the same story. I can still see right through that man and I know he has his weaknesses. I found them out first hand.


But now it is time to move on like I always do. No, I don’t let a silly loss by a mere man get to my head. We all experience them but it’s how we act upon them that define who we are. Me? Well, the way I act upon anything is nothing short of impressive. The task ahead for me is going to be quite the interesting matchup. Two factions going at it. This company has suddenly become nothing but factions and the battlefield is about to look real interesting if a war breaks out between each army. The battle lines are going to be drawn, the trenches are going to be built, the armory is going to be filled and the soldiers are going to be trained. But, what people need to start realizing is that this war is over before it even begins, and you know why?


It’s because Ronin has A GOD AMONGST THEM!!!


Bitches and gentlecunts, Ronin is about to take this place by storm. Stark is an incredible leader and we have a bunch of talented men and women who are all chewing at the bit to showcase what exactly makes them who they say they are. I’m not phased by my positioning in the faction because the way in my eyes, the entirety of Ronin is filled with gods. Tres Comas Club? I mean, who the hell are they? A bunch of individuals filled with their own self-confidence that currently has no idea what is about to happen to them this week. Andre Virgo, Jun Nobungaga and Maximus Grier. Welcome to your downfall.


Oh how it’s good to hear one of you open your mouths. Andre Virgo, it is a pleasure to be the man to put you in your place. You speak of Tres Comas Club not being ready to handle a championship like the Junior Heavyweight Championship. Well, at least you’re honest. At least you know that your group of so-called brothers aren’t capable of doing anything of relevance here in this company. Basically, you saying all that means you’re not ready for Ronin. You may be a group of brothers but we’re a group of gods. We’re a religion. Ronin is YOUR religion. Get on your knees and pray to us for forgiveness. You ask me what my plan is? My plans are none of your business, buddy. Ronin has their own desires and goals that each one of us want to achieve individually, but as a group we have our own plans too. No, I did not hear you at the press conference last week because I don’t give a fuck what you have to say. I don’t give a fuck what any of my opponents now or in the future have to say. It’s all white noise to me. All I care about is me and what I want to say and what I want to do.  You ask me if I see myself as a god, and the answer is no. I do not SEE myself as a god because I already know I am one. Perhaps my egotism blinds you from believing my statement but allow me to show you exactly why I call myself that in our match. You should know now that the odds aren’t in the favour of Tres Comas Club, nor will they ever will be when you go up against Ronin. We sit amongst the clouds higher than everybody because we above everyone. Nobody can touch us!


As for Maximus and Jun. Well, one seems to want to be me based on his name and the other I couldn’t give two shits about and neither could anybody else. Grier, it’s okay if you want to be me. Everybody wants to be a god, but not everybody can be one. I will make it my personal duty to beat you so badly that you’ll be forced to change your first name to something that doesn’t mimic me so.


Get on your knees and pray that you don’t sin under Ronin, because a punishment will be heading your way from the gods themselves.

The author of this message was banned from the forum - See the message

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on January 25th 2018, 11:26 pmAndré Virgo
1/2

(André Virgo is seen meditating in an empty studio apartment with incense burning on each side of him.)


Now why would I be mad?

It was only the Junior Heavyweight Championship. Maybe Tres Comas Club isn’t ready for that so the universe took control of Mr. Montana’s judgement and caused him to make such an unbelievable error. His mistakes do not reflect myself or any of my Tres Comas brothers. We will still rise to the occasion and no band of Ronin will stand in our way… especially when we are led into battle by the Alpha of Tres Comas Club. If we haven’t done enough already to prove our dominance in SSW then allow us to continue until the world understands.

Stark. An international superstar… He has so graciously shared his presence with us in SSW. But is he here to honor the traditions of this land? Is he here to simply grace us with his talents as an act of honor? Or is he in SSW for domination? To take over and take what he wants. What really are his motivations? Why should I respect this man when my energy is telling me there is reason to be skeptical? The answer is I shouldn’t. Should I stop him? Only if he crosses into my path to greatness. If that happens then I will handle things but if not I will trust the universe to break him for his sins against humanity if he chooses to commit them. A mentor of mine said to break opponents if they refuse to stay down and that’s not something I fear to do rather something I choose to avoid. I seek not to break you Stark, only to beat you and win.

I seek to beat Shark Man. I seek to beat Levi Maximus. I seek to beat everyone. I proved on January 20th that my rise stops for nobody, not even my faction leader. Unwise of an investor to intentionally hold me back but brokers invest in the wrong stocks all the time. They have since the free market was created. Silly mortals playing with their imaginary wealth as a symbol of status as I ascend to a higher plane. I choose to live modestly but exist extravagantly. I may be something you don’t understand but you will understand when my brothers and I continue to cement ourselves as the gift to the world that we are. Look at the three of us and ask yourself how you’re expected to keep up with this.

What is your plan Levi Maximus? To act now and ask questions later? To chase after the fame and fortune of the business at the expense of Tres Comas Club? Perhaps you didn’t hear me at the press conference but I am not a stepping stone for anyone. Tell me Levi, do you truly see yourself as God? Do you see yourself as in control of the chaotic, violent yet peaceful place that is our universe? My skepticism gets the better of me once again, but do call yourself whatever you wish. My only wish is that you do not believe that you will somehow manage to escape the fate that has been put in front of you. What happens to you will happen and there is nothing that you can do or even I can do to stop it. But the odds are in favor of and will remain with Tres Comas, so you should learn to accept that.

Shark Man, I don’t know what to say to you other than you are what represents the disjointedness of the Ronin. What do I have in front of me? A star, a self proclaimed God, and a man in a shark mask. This is what your faction has to offer. But I look in the mirror and I see a strong and powerful unit.

Jun Nobunaga is a visionary. He is the-

Āti!... Su!... To!...

He may have failed to be victorious in his SSW debut but an artist like himself is not one to fall apart at such an error. Jun will take the misplaced line that is the loss on his record and work around it to achieve his masterpiece of a career which he is destined to have. The two of us are prime examples of why Tres Comas Club is the top faction in SSW. We do not simply accept our places among the ranks, we set ourselves on track to the top. We do not wait around for others to make our faction great, we do it ourselves. Take a look at my match with our leader and understand that I was not bent on beating BANG for the opportunity to be the first ever SSW Jr. Heavyweight Champion out of disrespect or self interest but rather because I want to see this faction succeed. Why would a trust another man to do that for me when I could do it myself and guarantee that Tres Comas Club will be home to the Jr. Heavyweight Championship? That’s a mindset that Jun and myself both share and we are colorful examples of the power Tres Comas Club holds.

Then Maximus Grier. What is there to say that he hasn’t already done? If you want to know what this man contributes to this faction why don’t you go ask Ryojin? If you can find him that is.  Maximus may be another player in the foolish game of business that men like Mr. Montana wish to play but some men use their wealth to make others do their dirty work while Maximus does it himself. He proved his capabilities by sending his first opponent back to the dojo with his tail between his legs. We are Tres Comas and we will leave Ryōgoku Sumo Hall the victors.

But until then prepare yourselves for the experience of a lifetime as you shall all bask in the presence of

André!... Vir!... Go!...
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on January 24th 2018, 7:55 pmCandice Blair
For the first episode of Strong Style Wrestling, it did not end the way I would have hoped for. I expected a high win for the Shoot Nation as I watched my fellow stablemate, Masanori Kawada take home the SSW Heritage Championship. Thanks to John Doe, that did not happen. The moment that he helped Khmaoch Sângkât and The Phantom Troupe, the moment war began in Strong Style Wrestling. It never occurred to me in a million years that such a small feat such as helping someone win a title to benefit their stable would annoy me so much. Sure, our opponents can say that it was a “No Disqualification” match. All rules were thrown out the window; however, I didn’t know that meant for morals as well. I thought the way the Heritage Championship was won was dirty. Khmaoch and Masanori were having an amazing battle out there. Both men were giving their stables the proper representation that it deserved. I should have known that there was going to be people that were going to taint this match with their greed and egos. Perhaps, I wanted to give everyone the benefit of the doubt. I did not think the “war” would have started so soon, but The Phantom Troupe fired the first shot, it would be stupid for the Shoot Nation, not the answer it, right?

Masanori should have all the right in the world to feel upset about the outcome of his title match. If John Doe did not stick his nose where it didn’t belong, I believe we could have seen a different winner in this match. This week will be the first time two Shoot Nation members will team with one another. Now, there is no knowing how Masanori and I will connect in the ring. There is no telling how desperate he will be to get his hands on Khmoach. I, for one, believe that there was a reason why we were all put on the same team. Perhaps, we have the same mindset when it comes to this match. Perhaps, we believe in the same things. There is no telling how Masanori is feeling from the title match, but I think he is more than ready to kick the asses of ANY Phantom Troupe members that dare step in our way. If that is the case, then so be it. I’ll complete any tasks in this match that I need to accomplish. Mizuki Nakata is someone I relate to in a way. We both come from prestigious families. Mine are from the states meanwhile her’s are prestigious from around these parts. Just like myself, we are fighting to continue our bloodlines and I understand that. I respect that, but how can a woman who vows on honoring her family feels about who you are associating yourself with this week? As for Khmoach, he’s a former Genocide survivor. He is someone who has gone through so much hell and there’s a part of me that sympathizes with that. On the other hand, I think this specific event in his life made him a worse person. Sure, people can justify it and says that he’s suffering from PTSD! He had a traumatic experience! When it comes to this week, there is a part of me that needs to look past an ill man and focus on the man that took my partner to the limit last week. Last week wasn’t enough for everyone to know all about Candice Blair. There is still a lot I have not shown yet and I cannot wait to have more time to show whatever I have to all you.
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on January 24th 2018, 5:42 pmJohn Doe
Everyone has to center their lives off one simple ideal. It could be absolutely anything imaginable within the confines of this planet, but to be a hero? I had never once pondered on what the life of a hero is like. This world is full of men and women who put on a masquerade for the public. The ideology of being a hero is just a facade. These people believe they're doing the "right thing", but for how long? You can walk down the path of righteousness for all you want, but you'll never stick to that one path. This journey is full of forks in the road and we've come to accept that. You gaze at which direction might be best suitable for yourself, but you're never going to make the right choice. There is no right or wrong choice. There's only the choice that impacts you for the rest of your life. Let's take my interference for example. Was it the right decision to involve myself in that bout? To some, no. To others, yes. So, how do you know which is right and which is wrong? The conflict between right will never be solved. I will stand by my decision of assisting a member of The Phantom Troupe --- if that means we aren't choked by the normality of Masanori Kawada. I don't personally care for the SSW Heritage Championship nor any other "prestigious" title this company has to offer. I'd just rather provide the change that I was once providing to another company. That's one of human's greatest fears; change. We don't like it, but we have to learn how to accept this change. How often to do you see the typical good guy sit on top? His ego expanding with everyday a person fails to dethrone them. They become very lonesome counting the minutes, days, hours, days, weeks, months, staying at he top. It's not because they're "all mighty" and "powerful". It's often left down to the fact that the challengers are too weak. I take one good glance around at the new faces that surround me. I don't see anything different from here or there, but then I stumbled across some beings that almost share my ideology of this plane. They know exactly how to spend their limited time on this forsaken piece of dirt. That's why they've been handpicked and singled out by myself to be recruited into The Phantom Troupe. They will not fail me and if they betray me --- that's their own right.

I trust nobody, but I have an ounce of faith in my comrades. We've proven to be quite effective thus far only in this first show of this company. The success will only flow through the second show, the third, the fourth, and so on. Our success will most definitely be showcased against a master and his student. I can't say I'm thrilled to have the mindset of this match being a handicap. I don't think it takes much thought as to why I also believe it's just that. I study everyone at all times and I was certainly not impressed with the man known as Steven Cassidy. I saw him defeated in mere minutes, maybe even less. I saw the small amount of effort he gave to win the match, but why? Why bother using Strong Style Wrestling as a learning curb? You chose the wrong place to gain experience, kid. I almost feel remorseful, but you have this coming. You don't know what you're doing and that's fine by me. It only shows that I only have to put a minimum amount of effort to compete against your master. I'll use barely anything to put you down. You have a name, don't you? Steven Cassidy. The name you bring shame to you, the name you drive into the dirt. You align yourself with a master that cannot help you. Koji Senju will only derail you from the track you should've been heading. He will teach you about the honor code and how you should treat your allies and enemies. You don't know the slightest thing about this world. You don't know what awaits you when you cut off Koji Senju and once again are alone. Koji Senju is just as feeble minded as you are. Why bother wasting your time on a predetermined failed project? You can't help Steven Cassidy. There's no telling how many defeats this kid will go through before he actually conquers an opponent. And by then, it will be far too late. He will have adapted finally to the style that this place revolves around. But what happens when everyone else is already miles ahead of him? He's bound to the back of the line for his entire life for coming into this as inexperienced as he is. And you'll be shackled right to him, until you decide to cut him off yourself. I don't know your true motives behind helping young Steven Cassidy, but it's not too late to put him out of his misery. It just goes to show...

This world is full of opinionated decisions... and it's proven with the two of you.
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on January 20th 2018, 9:58 pmVanessa Santiago
It’s a mild, sunny day in Key West, Florida. Light, wispy clouds do little to obstruct the rays of sun that bathe the seaside landscape below, and the blue sky stretches overhead for miles in every direction. Charming downtown streets are teeming with life in these afternoon hours, nearly packed to the brim with both locals out for the weekend and tourists who have fled here from snowy, wintry conditions elsewhere. One such downtown building has an unassuming facade, blending in with the restaurants and mom and pop stores along this palm tree-lined main thoroughfare, but its peaceful exterior betrays what goes on inside. A step inside the front door, and your ears are met with the sounds of fists and feet against heavy bags and the sounds of bodies taking harsh bumps against the canvas. Shouts of things to be improved fill the air. It’s all the definition of controlled chaos.

Toward the back of the first floor of the two-story building is a young woman ferociously laying into a punching bag, heavy-handed punches and sickening-looking elbows sending the bag swaying away from her in regular intervals. After a few moments more, her taped hands reach out to still the bag. She blows an errant lock of dark blonde hair that’s fallen from her ponytail from her face before she turns on a heel and goes to lean against a nearby wall. 


Vanessa Santiago: I got the aesthetic down pat, don’t you think?


A slight smile crosses her pretty countenance, a droll-sounding tone accenting her slightly Spanish-tinged voice persisting as she continues on.


Vanessa Santiago: I mean all the combat stuff, it meshes well with the “legit” aspects of what puro is supposed to be. Unflinching, unrelenting, unforgiving...it’s perfect for someone like me. Not because of how I’ve been trained, not because of the moves I know, but because of who I am and what I’m capable of. Really, it’s funny that I say I’m perfect for the world of SSW because I’ve already taken into consideration that I don’t give a shit about all the conventions that make Japanese wrestling what it is. They say there’s a certain amount of respect that should be automatically afforded to everyone from the person standing across from you to the people in the audience to those in suits signing your checks. Personally, I don’t believe in that concept, the idea of doling out respect just because someone says it’s due to them. I don’t believe in keeping your head down and staying humble as if it’s the only way to truly make something of yourself in this world. I don’t believe in letting things play out, waiting for people to catch their breath and accept your vision of how things are supposed to be. When you know what I know, you know without a shadow of a doubt that there are only two kinds of people in this world…


She holds up one manicured finger.


Vanessa Santiago: Those who follow orders…


And then, another.


Vanessa Santiago: ...and those who give them.


She then begins the task of taking the tape off her hands, unraveling it as she carries on.
Vanessa Santiago: You listen to me talk like this and you think, “How can someone like this survive in a place like SSW? All the talent in the world might not stop her from getting tripped up. Won’t her attitude get the best of her?” But I haven’t really taken the time to think about how things look on paper and consider whether or not I “belong” in SSW. I go wherever the hell I want. I force feed people the truth of their situation rather than waiting for them to fall in line. That’s what’s in my bloodline. I don’t wait, I take. I don’t just accept what I’m told. I challenge it. What I was put on this earth to do was bend people to my will and crush the opposition under my heel.


She discards the tape and tosses it aside, taking a few steps through the dual doors that separate the first floor from a patio-type area in the back of the building. The nearby shoreline is clearly visible. Vanessa leans over the wooden railing. 


Vanessa Santiago: They say Key West is the southernmost point in the continental United States. Ninety miles from here and you’re in Cuban waters. This point in Florida is actually closer to Havana than it is to Miami. Sometimes I stand here and soak in how surreal it is, only ninety miles not only separating two countries but two lifestyles, two languages, two separate worlds. This water separates the haves from the have-nots. Or so I used to think.


Santiago rolls her neck to either side, still staring out at the churning waves. 


Vanessa Santiago: When I was five, my parents risked everything to get my siblings and I out of Cuba. They took a risk that could’ve gotten us all killed, but they did it because they were under the impression that we would be better off in this country. That we’d be able to take advantage of all the things we deserved. They wanted us to have the freedom they’d never had. When you’re a little kid, you believe it. I love my parents, and I don’t fault them for leaving. I don’t blame them for believing what so many others believe -- that being in America is by default better than being anywhere else. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized that isn’t necessarily true. I get it, the picture painted of Cuba isn’t a pretty one. People call it repressive and evil and all these other terrible things, but the world at large fails to realize why Cuba became the way it is. The country used be a playground for people like rich Americans and sailors on leave who wanted to take advantage of the sun, the sand, and the cheap liquor. Fulgencio Batista sold his country’s soul to developers from other countries who ravaged the natural resources and left native Cubans to tend those sugar plantations at disgustingly low wages. Nobody was looking out for the interests of the people who made the country great...kind of like in the United States.


She huffs, feigning amusement and crossing her arms. 


Vanessa Santiago: The people who make America what it is are the ones who get blamed for all its problems. This is what my parents risked it all for -- to come to a place where they abide by the rules and do everything right and are called lazy and less-than by people who dare to call themselves patriots. This wasn’t their dream, to come to a place under just the mere guise of being able to call themselves free. Say what you will about Cuba and its communism, but at the very least, it’s honest about what’s going on. It never promised freedom, just equality. Real equality where education is guaranteed to your children and where you have healthcare. That’s what it is to implement order in the lives of people who otherwise wouldn’t have any. Most people, if we’re telling the truth, don’t have the backbone to govern every aspect of their lives. They don’t have it in them to make the tough decisions and ask the hard questions. But I do. I’m a Castro. I was born to rule. I was destined to break down anyone who dared to cross me. And in the grand scheme of things, beating people in wrestling matches is pretty low-grade compared to staging a coup and taking over a country, but I guess I’ve gotta start somewhere. 


She uncrosses her arms and brings them up in front of her body, nonchalantly rolling her wrists.


Vanessa Santiago: Tetsuya Ishimori is dumb enough to think I’m fighting in the name of...equality? Has all that “#MeToo” movement bullshit left you deluded enough to think I’m here waving some pussy power flag? You think a win for me is a win for all women? No. I don’t know who lied to you, but I fight for myself and my interests first and foremost. And once you scrape beneath the surface, you’ll see, if I’m worried about anyone else at all, it’s those who share the ranks of The Phantom Troupe with me. But even they aren’t fighting this battle for me. This match is just you and I, and only one of us can take another step forward on the road toward becoming Junior Heavyweight Champion. In case you haven’t noticed, I like the notion of having power. Not the idea, not the illusion, but living in the reality of having sway and pull over this place, and the only way to get it is to take it. A good start where taking it is concerned, is to be the person with enough gold to back up your currency. Rest assured, I will. When all is said and I done, I’ll be the first-ever SSW Jr. Heavyweight Champion, and before I ever get there, I’ll take your head off your shoulders. It really is a pretty cheap price to pay if it means getting where I want to be.


Vanessa smiles to herself. 


Vanessa Santiago: Just as Fidel was initially dismissed as just an overly ambitious law student who was in way over his head by challenging his country’s status quo, you think I’m just some woman with a legitimate combat background. It must make you feel so good to think it’s that simple, but you’ll find out soon enough how wrong you are. You can stick to running press conferences, since apparently that’s what you like to do. You’re satisfied with something as small as that because you know that in this situation, you can’t help to attain much more than that. Pobrecito. My vision is much, much bigger. 


The blonde smirks, walking back toward the door and stepping through the door frame. Just as she’s about to disappear, she turns and looks over her shoulder. 


Vanessa Santiago: Like I said before, chino, two kinds of people in the world. If I’m giving the orders, where do you think that leaves you? 


The smirk slips a few notches, falling to a condescending sneer before Vanessa turns on her heel and disappears at last.
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on January 20th 2018, 7:26 pmJaydayne Pendragon
⚔️Within a dojo split with both traditional Japanese and medieval architecture of swords and armour, a masked Jaydayne Pendragon is seen seated seiza style before a sheathed sword on top of a golden pillow, paying tribute to it. He begins to have his fingers tenderly sweep over the markings on the sheath spelling the name Renee as he speaks softly, almost privately, “Dear, it would seem the number of those I owe a duty to has increased…” When his hand reaches the hilt he grabs it with conviction ”But, I swear, I will return to you, a proven warrior.”  Pendragon lets go and removes his mask to look at the camera and to speak to the world. ⚔️

Strong Style Wrestling finds itself on a paradigm shift in professional wrestling, where the traditional stylings of the East combined with a new revigorated energy amongst the masses has brought the art of strong style to the forefront of the world…….I, in hopes to capture that same type of air, can imagine no greater plateau to return to my roots, for both my blood and character.

I had once strayed from the bushido way, for the sake of love I had become a hired blade for the highest bidders, in those dark days a petty swordsman who they had even taken his name to strip all semblance of himself. Yet I do not obscure nor wallow in past mistakes, only fools who don’t know history would think the path towards bushido is ever lost, to reshape one’s life towards honour and redemption is the story of Japan, the very soul of the samurai way!

Perhaps this is why I have been done the honour of being placed head of Shoot Nation, a legion of individuals that pay their respects to what SSW represents, the finest selection of men and women I could ever hope to be a part of. I won’t let them down.

I can bridge the gap between the West and the East, I am the Hafu Samurai. What that means is that I have a connection with both cultures, and my very birth was a product of how we can come together with respect and inclusion. I know, there will be those who doubt the legitimacy of the Westerners who seek to practice our ways, and the foreigners will surely struggle to find acceptance, just as I am sure there are many here who feel their traditions will be stomped upon by outsiders, I will be able to lead us to a mutual understanding where everyone is able to thrive while achieving success and maintaining their dignity. I speak not just for my fellow competitors, but for the fans both here in the home of SSW and ones who watch abroad! To our fans here, there will be days where right next to you’ll find someone from across the world who came to Japan just to see us!  Everyone is part of what will make SSW special, every fan is going to be fought for when I step into that ring! I will pour the contents of my soul into that ring to do it, I will sweat and bleed in that ring in my pursuit to craft SSW into being the great new home of professional wrestling that I know it can be! Craft it like ancestors of old who made marvels with blades. Understand, a samurai always has a weapon, the sword merely an extension of oneself, I alone with my body am a blade, and like any warrior I have honed my skills to protect what I value and destroy everything that threatens it. Make no mistake ever thinking otherwise, though I am a welcoming face into this land, anyone who acts in pursuits against SSW shall be struck down without mercy!

I hear your words Jun Nobunaga, and they only temper my resolve much like fire to a blade. With every petty word you speak you prove that the heart is not the only part of you that you should admit to being childlike in nature, for it is only undeveloped minds that attribute loss of wonder and appreciation for art as marks of adulthood. To be a child is only to be undeveloped, like a child you can call me names and find comfort suckling on the tit of this protective “guard” you’ve imagined Tres Comas to be, but none of this will save you from being tried as a man, none of it will save you from that which cleaves the unworthy off the coattails of SSW….me. Perhaps you don’t know me very well, but I know your kind, I knew from the moment lord Daniels allowed you to present yourself as you disgraced your own person by showcasing nothing but self importance and lack of gratitude for those that attempted to give you the honour of properly introducing yourself. Your insecurities are what expose you, your obsession with proving how unique you are reveals how utterly typical your existence is, like every unfulfilled individual who do actions to cry out for attention, you are what happens when someone is raised without discipline. You can create the false pretense that the Jr Heavyweight Championship and its initial crowning process are not of great interest to you outside of monetary gains to mask your lack of confidence in winning the gold, but I am proud to openly state my mission to be a Jr Heavyweight Champion in this industry, much like Shoot Nation’s mentor and heroic figure, Kawada Sama, before me in the lands he conquered. It is shameful that taking on the mantle of past greats in this artform is too much of a heavy task for you to even attempt. I pity creatures such as yourself, but through your tales of failed projects and rich investors not giving you a second look in the past before finding wrestling, I take solace that failure is something that you are accustomed to through your art and you will feel right at home underachieving in this battle of martial arts.

Then you’ll know what to call me, and you’ll tell it to all your vile friends. And the name you speak will not be Hafu Samurai, nor Jaydayne Pendragon. For those who have no concept of valor, and therefore fall short of obtaining my protection and high esteem, have no need to consider me their samurai, nor know me on a first, or even last, name basis. Those like you need only know me by the war waged upon you, to you I am Red Strife.

⚔️Pendragon swipes his hand slowly over the red streak in his hair before abruptly making a diagonal cutting motion at the end and the screen cuts in half, and the view goes to black.⚔️
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on January 20th 2018, 7:02 pmMasanori Kawada


"ALL-MIGHT" MASANORI KAWADA
Versus Khmaoch Sângkât for the SSW Heritage Championship
Entry: 2 -- Word Count: 1,714

"Khmoach, you are a very foolish man if you believe I possess no knowledge of what it means to go to war. For the last twenty plus years of my life, I have been a soldier in many ongoing wars that span years. My tenure with the Japanese Self-Defense Forces were only three of those years, and they were anything but spent firing pellets at fictitious enemies. Laugh at it if you will, but the bullets that were fired back were not ones made of rubber. They were very much real, bullets that can and did take away lives of many. I was lucky to escape the battlefield with my life. Japan has lived in a somewhat state of peace over the years, but it hasn't always been that way. This nation was deemed a threat by others, and sometimes that was true. But for many, this was our one true home, no where else would suffice. For my father, that was his reason to take arms and go to war. And the man that came home to me as but a mere child was different than the man that left for years. Thanks to a rogue bullet finding its way into the center of his spine, he was forever bound to the seat of a wheelchair. For over thirty years now, he hasn't been able to feel the ground under his feet, all because he went to fight on the frontlines. I remember asking him if he had any regrets. He always told me no, though he wished every day he was more fortunate to come home with the ability to walk. He found justice in the sacrifice he made for this nation in the line of fire. And when I took up the same responsibilities he did all those years ago, to stand on the front lines with the Japanese Self-Defense Forces as a soldier for this nation, I believed there to be justice for the service even if I had to make a similar sacrifice. And it took some time for me to realize it wasn't my justice to deliver. I found that out the day I saw the life of a man drain from his eyes. And I knew him well, a fellow soldier in the ground-defence unit. We told each other the stories of our lives, and I learnt of his dreams, I learnt of his family that waited for him at home. And the day I saw him clenching his abdomen, trying to stop the blood from flowing out of the bullet wound in his lung, I questioned the idea of Justice. Where was the justice of a man with a wife and kid at home dying without seeing their smiling faces one last time? Where was the justice in a man never being able to live his dream as his life was cut far too short in the line of fire? But in his dying breath, he told me he had no regrets doing his duty for this country. He found justice in his own dying moments. I was the soldier that chose to deliver the bad news to his family. I was one of the men who carried his casket at his funeral. I was one of the soldiers that saluted him, not as a soldier but as a man who respected and understood the decisions he made and the ultimate sacrifice he was willing to make for his dreams and his family. "

Masanori takes a second, pulling at the chain that was wrapped around his neck, revealing the dog tag that was hidden underneath his shirt. He looks as the engravings on it, a solemn expression on his face before it went to a faint smile.

"Ryota Mitarai was his name. He died in a hailstorm of bullets for a cause that he believed in. He put his life on the line for this country to keep it a safe home where his wife and son can live a life without fear. Although they mourned his loss, they remember him as a hero. And so do I. In the end, I came to learn that war was not the justice I wished to persue. I was not going to serve justice through the barrel of a smoking gun and taking lives. I made my choice, and I resigned from duties under an honorable discharge and enlisted into the police force of my hometown in Setagaya. I didn't need to take a life for the sake of justice, instead, I would be the muscle that took injustice down by the book. Instead of taking lives, I saved them. Instead of using firearms, I became the arm of the law that kept crime down. Those who broke the laws that kept Japan a safe and thriving country to call home were prosecuted. I grew up on the ideals of justice, and to this day I still hold those values close to my heart like the dogs that hang from my neck. I was a dog of the military, and then a dog of the Japanese law enforcement. But professional wrestling has always been my passion. And even in the confines of a wrestling ring, I was still lacing up my boots to go to war. When I stepped between those ropes and the bell rang, I had no less valor than any soldier in the trenches. I faced the same hazards as one too. I still had that feeling of constantly being under fire, albeit to a lesser degree. I consider the possibilities of any move being the move that confines me to a wheelchair like my father before me or even takes my life like the man whose name is engraved on my dog tags. But I have toughed through those wars, and I don't plan on stopping anytime soon. I am still here to fight for justice and in SSW, against the likes of you Khamoach Sangat, I will uphold the values of justice.

And I have never shied away from making those sacrifices. I have never taken a back step when threatened with agonizing pain. I could never retreat from a battle because there is no threat strong enough in this world that could ever deter me from the goals I seek to achieve. That includes the fight that you bring to my front door, Khmoach. I can outlast any pain you try to dish out. I will fight till the oxygen drains from my entire body, swinging until I am rendered deceased. But that is no easy task. If you want to know how I will take control of this situation, it is quite simple. Like the bombs that have scared your emotions and mind, I will lift you to the highest of points and drop you to the mat with the hardest of magnitudes. And until I know with absolute certainty that you will not find your way back to your feet, I will not stop this process. Your barbaric rituals will not prepare you for that. Blood will not be spared willingly, it will be extracted by force to smear our faces like warpaint. And I wear it with the intention to come out on the winning end and nothing less. All in the name of the justice I will deliver in this newfound land, to prosecute the underlying threat that lurks in the shadows of my new home promotion.

The key difference between us is not the reasons we have to walk away from our bout on the 21st as the inaugural Heritage Champion, but the reasons we have if we don't. I have no reason to be defeated at Yokohama. You, however, are fighting two wars at the same time, one that has been your cross to bear for the longest time, the other a new line of fire. I have no mettle to test, for the past 10 years I have been an active heavyweight in several promotions across the country. What I am fighting for is to accomplish the one thing that has evaded me for all those years; the top prize, the title of company ace. In SSW, I am sure that I will earn that title. This week, I take the first step towards it by claiming the rank of Heritage Champion. My goal is something direct, something I have the drive to achieve. Yours is a war that can't be settled in this ring, though that won't stop you from trying. That sounds like justice to me. Justice for the mental anguish you have been feeling for all those years, the losses you have suffered, the nightmares that you witnessed and the nightmares of the events that rattle you awake in the night. And you believe that some accomplishments in this profession will appease the ghosts of your past that you give so much power to. You wear those tragedies on your sleeve, giving them so much power that it has you in the palm of its hand instead of the other way around. Though it is noble, it is foolish. Something like that cannot be won so easily, and against me for that title, it will be anything but an easy war to win. Make no mistake about it, on the 21st in Yokohama, you and I will once again be going to war. And if you choose to make this match of ours a matter of life and death, then I won't be held responsible for how you choose to cope with defeat. Because I won't pull any punches or bend the knee regardless of the situation. If you are the phantom menace that casts the shadow of war across Strong Style Wrestling, then I will be the beacon of Justice that will push the shadows away in retreat. I will not allow you to pedal your propaganda of fear onto this promotion and have it rewarded with championship glory. For I do not fear the war you bring or the stories of demise you pedal. Disqualification or not, the end result will be the same. Justice will prevail."

Masanori strikes his dynamic pose while staring deep into the camera as if talking to his opponent directly.

"Khmaoch Sângkât..."
BRACE YOURSELF!
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on January 20th 2018, 3:21 pmKhmoach Sangkat
SSW Heritage Championship: 2


Sȃngkȃt is shown seated in candlelight. He is “cupping”. Several glass jars are seen stuck onto his chest, the skin underneath appearing a deep red where the blood has been pulled to the surface. Finding a bare patch of skin, Sȃngkȃt presses another jar there and affixes it with a vacuum pump. He closes his eyes, tilting his head backwards to take a labored breath before looking back into the camera

Father came to visit again last night. Clutching me against his breast more tightly than he has done in quite some time. He knows, you see. Tomorrow night is the night that he has so restlessly awaited for a lifetime and beyond. Why, to see his son crowned as Champion at such an august occasion, the Main Event in very first of many Strong Style Wrestling shows… It undoubtedly means more to him than it does to each of us combined. It IS his dream, after all. For I it is but an inherited will. For him, it is everything that he ever desired beginning to come together. He has even forsaken rebirth just to be close at hand to see it happen.

Alas, the dead are not meant to be in such close contact with the living. As he whispered his praises into my ear I could feel the khyȃl, the wind rising within me and where it goes, blood will surely chase it. I could feel the pressure building as my chest tightened. My hands and feet grew cold and numb. I grew dizzy, half expecting that I was living my final moments. That is the nature of ghosts, after all. Each touch is the touch of death. Each warm embrace squeezes the soul from your bones and pulls you down into the cold void. Even now I am still out of sorts and my body does not quite function the way that it should. Not to say that it is his fault. Like all spirits he is chained to the attachments that keep him here. He is not in control. Besides… what the dead do lack is the advantage of the living. For however tortured and wretched we may suppose that our own spirits our, we still have the freedom and the means to wrench back control for ourselves.

Sȃngkȃt presses another jar against his forehead, affixing it like the others with the vacuum pump.

Khyȃl circulates. It flows. That is the nature of the wind. When the air is sucked from the jar, the excess Khyȃl follows it and is expelled. Where Khyȃl rises, the blood will surely chase it. But here it does not gather and weigh against the heart to cause blockage. Stagnant blood is brought to the surface to breathe. From there one performs the vessels. Massaging the blood back into the proper channels to restore balance and re-establish proper flow. Few these days believe in the traditional methods. Yet, that I am still alive to keep fighting is only testament to the wisdom within them. When the flow of khyȃl is at odds with the body and spirit it is the very Prince of suffering and the sire of decay. But when properly harnessed and directed properly by the compass of one’s will, the opposite is true. Then so life is brought to dying flesh, pain is relieved, and vigour is restored. There is a lesson for life to be learned here. Untold evils haunt us all and if the mercy of the heavens shan’t banish them, then the only thing is to take control. Bring it to alignment with the rushing river of your will that it may become your blessing and another’s curse. Tomorrow night, when I step into that ring I shall be followed there by a ghost that has haunted me since childhood. Followed… for I take the lead. I bring the hammer to bear. I open my sails to catch the wind. And it is I who is thrust forward to conquer this virgin territory.

Blood and fire. My heritage and that stoked flame which drives me headlong into the future. These what I bring with me tomorrow night. These are by what right I claim the SSW Heritage Championship, Kawada. Every nightmare that has ever haunted me and all the anguish of decades that I have endured. It is only the beginning, the smallest tip of the iceberg to say that they have calloused my flesh and strengthened my resolve. For while I have grown stronger by them, it is not right to say that they have been left behind me. No. In my right and in my left, they are in my hands. Now I will bring them to bear. The question still left unanswered to me now is, Kawada… How do you intend to take control? When pain envelopes all of your senses and you cannot breathe for the tightness in your chest, what then? When your body fails to work as it should and your mind fades to lightness, what have you to restore the balance? You see, when we step foot into the Yokohama Arena, it will not be for us a house of justice and veridiction that cares whose reasons for fighting are most pure or worthy. It will instead be a charnel house where spirits of the damned meet to congregate. That is, a place where every touch is the touch of death and every warm embrace squeezes the soul from your bones and pulls it down into the cold void. Only one may keep his head above the surface, Kawada. And it is I who holds the advantage. Yes, I feel it. With each step that inch towards that fateful moment, the Khyȃl rises like steam in my body.


And where the Khyȃl rises, the blood will surely follow.
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on January 19th 2018, 1:28 pmAndré Virgo
2/2


Mr. Montana. I am humbled to be welcomed into Tres Comas. I respect Mr. BANG as our leader and I don’t wish to undersell his “greatness” but I wouldn’t be in this Club if I was going to lay down and show my belly like an obedient animal. I find it disrespectful not only to myself but to this entire Club that you ask that I “accept” defeat for the sake of allowing our faction leader to advance. In fact it would be disrespectful for me to stand by and just let BANG take this opportunity. If BANG is as great as you claim then he needs to prove it and I’m the man to make him. I might have the most charisma, I may be the most captivating man in all of sports AND entertainment, but that is only what you see on the surface.

Montana, BANG, Tres Comas Club, and everyone else: Listen up.

This match isn’t just about a win or a loss. This match is not just a match that will decide who will be SSW Jr. Heavyweight Champion. This is a civil war. This is a battle for dominance.
BANG is the leader of Tres Comas Club. I’m in no way challenging him for that position nor am I disrespecting his position. But there is a big difference between a leader and an Alpha. I will not stand by and let our leader simply be deemed the cream of the crop because that’s a position reserved for myself. I’m not just smoke and mirrors. I’m the real deal and I’m ready to prove it. We’re here to pioneer and shape SSW and nothing yet has been set in stone! This is the beginning of a long and spectacular story and I will happily pen my name into the very important first chapter whether you like it or not. This is a battle between the best men of the best faction in SSW. I’ve spent my career kicking around nobodies and being the best everywhere I go. Will I see those days end the moment I stand across from BANG? Gladly. I will not be proving I’m better than some nobody, I’ll be proving I’m better than one of the best. I’ll be proving that

André!.. Vir!.. Go!..

Is the Alpha of Tres Comas Club.

Mark Montana refers to BANG as the villain while deeming me only supporting cast. Unfortunately that’s a statement I take issue with because honey, I’m a star! I will carry this faction to the promised land because not only am I the center of attention everywhere I go but I will prove to everyone that I am the most dominant force in all of SSW! You want to take me down BANG? You wanna put me in my place and make me bow down to your beautiful grace? You want your titles to not only include ‘leader’ but Alpha and Jr Heavyweight Champion as well? Titles that are destined to belong to me? Then you’re the one who has to overcome.

But enough about BANG, there’s something else I need to say. Mark Anthony Montana, it’s an honor to be in Tres Comas Club. This is a fantastic opportunity. But you’re looking at

André!.. Vir!.. Go!..

There will come a day when I have ascended! I will soar beyond expectations and before you know it Tres Comas Club will need me a lot more than I need you. So I suggest you adjust your tone when you speak to me because I can make this faction the most dominant force in SSW or I can take my aesthetic, my fashion, and my… Tenacity, elsewhere. So you better do a bit more to make me happy in this group and as for this Sunday, you’ll get a taste of what it’s like to be on the opposite side of the ring of

André!.. Vir!.. Go!...
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on January 19th 2018, 8:40 amBANG
(The camera opens up to the scene of a luxurious wrestling facility, complete with a custom-made ring with golden ropes as a middle-aged male man - presumably a trainer - is shown standing in the ring, dressed in sweats with his hands at his hips and an unamused expression on his face)

Trainer: … So what is this? Are we doing this or not?

(The camera slowly pans to the left, revealing BANG in the corner of the 20 x 20 ring, rocking back and forth with his stuffed partner in crime, Minerva, clutched against him)

Trainer: Kiddo, you with me or not? Don’t you got a match coming up?

(BANG slowly looks up at the Trainer, looking more through him than at him. BANG slowly raises an index finger)

BANG: …. André!..

(BANG raises a middle finger)

BANG: Vir!..

(BANG lastly extends his thumb)

BANG: Go!..

(The Trainer stares at BANG in disbelief for several moments before putting his hands up and shaking his head)

Trainer: Alright, I’ve had about enough of this. How bout you call me when he’s ready to actually train…

???: Hey, hey, hey…

(The camera pans further to the left, revealing Mark Antony Montana, dressed in an Armani suit as he gets next to BANG in the corner from the outside of the ring)

Mark: Relax… Relax… BANG here will do what he needs to do when the time is right. He always has, and he always will. You see, my friend, this young man here has something far beyond what you or any other mediocre, old, pathetic trainer long past his prime ever had… He has that sixth sense.

Trainer: … Sixth sense? What the Hell are you going on about? You paid me to train him--

Mark: Wrong, my friend. So very wrong. I paid you good money to do what he needs of you, and from the looks of things, what he needs of you is to silence yourself and understand the words coming out of his mouth.

Trainer: Words coming out of his mouth?... Are you serious? He isn’t saying anything! He hasn’t hardly said jack shit since he got here!

BANG: André!.. Vir!.. Go!..

(Mark looks towards the Trainer with a smug expression)

Mark: Yes, you see? He speaks. He speaks when he needs to speak, and he says only what needs to be said. You are so very focused on him, but you know what he’s focused on? Do you know who’s on his mind? His opponent. The man sitting before you is far more talented than you or anyone else to have ever soiled a professional wrestling ring, and you would do best to simply accept it. Accept that there are those naturally born better than you. Men such as myself and BANG here - we are beasts born at the top of the food chain. What is it they say? Some achieve greatness and some have greatness thrust upon them? It’s those born great that survive when the chips are down, my friend. It’s why he was deemed an outcast by his peers. Every single one of them fueled by envy, because they knew what he had. They could feel his potential the very same way animals can sense danger. The way they understand there are predator in the World who they simply must avoid at all costs.

(Mark chuckles as he reaches into the ring, patting BANG on the back)

Mark: Of course, humans are no animals like this, yes? Animals are smart. They have a sense to retreat when they know they cannot win, but humans? Humans do no such thing. They attempt to fight to their very last breath in the slight hope that they can overcome what nature intended the very moment they first drew breath. It can’t be denied there are people out there that overcome the odds and live their cinderella story, if only for one day, but more often than not, their hopes and dreams become weights that crush them. Every ounce of pride they is edged out by sheer humiliation, and the World watches when despair takes over until he utterly self-destructs! My friend, don’t you understand? That is precisely why I chose him to lead us - to lead professional wrestling into the future. He is a predator that more inferior men fall prey to because of their meager ambitions to be successful! To be a winner! To be a CHAMPION! They want it all! Everyone in the World wants something they don’t have, do they not? Yes?

BANG: André!.. Vir!.. Go!..

(Mark Montana chuckles as he continues)

Mark: They do not understand what they’re getting into, and they never will. To them - in their clouded eyes - they see no more than a crazy man who does not deserve to be in their presence. What they don’t realize is that this man was born to step on them like the cockroaches they are. He was gifted by God himself to conquer those who stand in his way, and that is precisely what Tres Comas Club is about. We invest in the future, and this, my friend… This is the future.

BANG: ANDRE!.. VIR!.. GO!..

Mark: Oh yes, that’s exactly right, BANG. You’re so very right. Andre is all that stands in the way between you and gold. Of course, even you must keep in mind that he is a brother to you. He represents Tres Comas just as you do, but only one can taste gold. Just one.

(Mark glances at the camera, his serious expression shifting into a devilish grin)

Mark: André… My friend… I couragely welcome you to your home at Tres Comas. You are everything we look for in our investments and more. You carry a mountain of charisma, a plethora of talent, and so very much more than makes you unique to anyone that steps within these ropes. Yet, you still stand here. You still stand in front of this man, BANG, none the wiser of what awaits you. Your mind is focused on winning, plain and simple. You are a winner, my friend, but not everyone can win all the time, I fear. You don’t feel this aura - you don’t sense the danger in front of you. You aim only to fight and walk out victorious, and it’s a wonderful thought. Truly, it is. Nothing would please me more than to see you flourish like the showman you are, but not on this night. On this night, you will simply fall in line. You will obey your Leader, not by will. You will not choose to stand behind him. You will be forced, my friend. You will be made into an example. You’ve wandered in front of a beast you should have avoided at all costs, and no ounce of brotherhood amongst our members is going to stop him from eating you alive.

BANG: ANDRE!.. VIR!.. GO!..

Mark: Now you may not know this, but I spent many, many years as an actor. I won every Award I possibly could, and I walked away when it was all worthless to me. I see so much of myself in young BANG, and I even see it in you just as well, André. I see what potential you have. When the smoke has cleared here, I truly hope you hold nothing against BANG for what he’ll have done. It’s not anything personal against you or whatever it is you represent. It’s just in his nature. His instincts tell him to hurt others, because in his fragile mind, his nature dictates he take his role as the villain of this story and the next, and accept it with open arms. I spent many years acting in films and television, and seeing for myself those villains that come and go, one after the other. A revolving door of truly vile character, you see? But not him. Not BANG. I came to know so very much about what he believes in, and let this all be a notice to each and every man on this roster - he is everything he believes he is. He is the vile creature God intended him to be. He is the antagonist of this story, but you, André, you are not the protagonist. You are just the supporting cast when it all comes down to it. You are just a man with greatness thrust upon him. Not, not even that. You are just a mere man pursuing greatness. Well, congratulations. You’ve found it. You have FOUND greatness! And he’s sitting in this corner behind me! He is beyond gold, power, and fame! He is a man without desire for any of it, and yet it all still comes to him so naturally. Minimum effort has brought him this much despite all odds, while men like you have struggled your entire life, my friend. As much as it breaks my heart to say, your struggle does not end tomorrow. This is no more than just another chapter of it. You stand by us, and your struggle will end, but not so long as you stand across the ring from this man. I do not ask you to do something as cowardly as retreat. I do not ask you to avoid him even if you were to realize what’s coming. All I ask of you, my friend, is that you accept it. Accept that some things are inevitable, and no amount of charisma oozing from your pores or colorful ensemble will ever make you the better man in this ring. Accept that some things are written in stone. Accept that there is at least one you can know for certain you can’t overcome. Tenacity - it only prolongs the inevitable.

(BANG jumps up to his knees, holding up the index finger, middle finger, and thumb for the Trainer to properly see)

BANG: ANDRE! VIR! GO!!

Mark: That’s right, BANG. He is very talented, isn’t he? Well, don’t you worry, deep down he knows what’s coming. And what exactly IS coming, BANG?

(BANG looks at his hand, contemplating something before he slowly turns the two fingers and thumb into the shape of a gun. BANG slowly turns towards the camera as the Trainer looks on; BANG points the gun gesture directly at the camera as a devious grin appears)


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