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Disenchanted Reverie
Topic Started: Dec 1 2012, 12:48 AM (115 Views)
Deleted User
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Disenchanted Reverie
Absorbing the historical details of Old Montreal, Matt Slater surveyed the preserved terrain from the emptiness of the main square. There was nothing strange or peculiar about Slater's outing, but there were a few exceptions that allured the citizens of Montreal, basking in the mild glow of the morning as they toured the premises.

He was being accompanied by Matt Falcon, which wasn't a bewildering fiasco, but alongside the duo were his upcoming opponent, Reya Serra, and her protective friend Paxar Vega. Wrestling tradition should have dictated that the two were to spend their days preparing for the contest alone instead of spending time together, but this was an occasion where the unwritten rules did not apply.

In actuality, the two had already formulated their strategies and tactics, keeping them hidden from interrogation. Their friendship was something to be cherished, after all; especially in Slater's case.

"This is an absolutely wondrous location," Reya said, taking in every detail with her pleasant eyes.

"But it's filled with bloody French people!" Falcon shouted. He was obviously annoyed by the French flavour of the place. What irritated him more was that the majority of Montreal had a French ancestry, passed down through time. "I guarantee that somewhere around here, an alcoholic-poet with a fake moustache is writin' about baguettes as he gropes women as they walk past!"

"I find that to be rather stereotypical..." Reya commented bluntly.

"Montreal has always been fond of maintaining its luxurious heritage," Slater clarified. "Across Montreal, and especially here in Old Montreal, the French-tongue is a primary language, spoken by everyone as a respectful homage to the European settlers that established Montreal as their own a few centuries ago."

"Thank you, Mr Wikipedia..." Falcon replied, almost offended that his knowledge had been tested. "What are you gonna talk about next? Montreal's Hockey Team? Celebrities that have lived here? How these people tell their children about "the birds and the bees" without it soundin' like a bloody French erotic film?"

"Is he always this rude?" Paxar questioned, appalled by Falcon's attitude.

"You'll get used to it..." Slater confessed pessimistically. "Well, hopefully..."

"It is just a shame that such a beautiful place is going to witness an event featuring violence and bloodshed..." Reya said, demonstrating concern for what the wrestlers of New Era were going to do to each other at NEW Generation and NEW TV.

Most notably, she was more anxious about her imminent conflict with Slater, a match that would include the use of weapons; a formula she did not appreciate by any means.

Turning to Reya, Slater exhibited an aura of comfort and calm as he spoke.

"Canada has always preferred the artistry of technical wrestling, Reya. You're aware of that too."

"Yes, I know..." Reya confirmed.

"Listen..." Slater sighed out. "I'm not going to be using any foreign objects or weapons against you, despite what this new division entails."

"Are you bein' a pussy?" Falcon asked, puzzled by Slater's show of compassion for a fellow wrestler, even if she was his friend.

"What's wrong with giving a friend an essence of fair play?" Paxar asked back to him, now growing more disgruntled.

"It's for a championship, sweetheart! He shouldn't be goin' easy on her!"

"He's not going to go easy on her, and Reya will not go easy on him! And don't call me sweetheart!"

"Will bitch do instead?"

"What did you call me?!"

"Paxar!" Reya shouted, interfering to prevent her friend from being involved in a confrontation that could be settled in a professional manner. "This is not the time or the place."

"He started it!"

"Enough..." Slater voiced, joining Reya as a temporary member of the "Dispute Amendment Party". "Falcon, don't antagonize Paxar."

"I'm not a six year old lad anymore! She's just gettin' on my bloody nerves!"

"Well you're getting on mine! Some kind of man you are..."

"I'll show you what kind of man I am!"

"I said enough!"

Startled by Slater's sternness, Paxar and Falcon looked at him curiously. There was no fear of him losing his temper, but he did show signs of increased agitation. The public continued to stroll around the square despite their intrigued glances, wondering what was going to occur as they kept their distance.

"Falcon, go and do something on your own. Clearly you don't enjoy being here..."

"You know what? I'm going back to the hotel. And if I see "Little Miss Innocent" again tonight..."

"You should be asking what will happen if I see you first..." Paxar commented coldly, keeping a watchful eye on him as he shrugged his shoulders to ease his tension. Taking out a cigarette from his pocket, Falcon finally abandoned the group, venturing off to seek his own endeavours as he light the cancer-inducing stick between his lips.

"Paxar, you should calm yourself down with a drink," Reya suggested. "Please go to the cafe. Matthew and I will be there soon."

"But I want to stay with you," Paxar lightly quarrelled.

"There are things that Slater and I need to discuss alone. Please, Paxar."

Looking between Reya and Slater as her emotions alternated sporadically, Paxar eventually caved to Reya's request and exhaled. Shaking her head, Paxar located the sign for the nearby cafe and followed the road to the store, reluctantly walking along as Slater and Reya watched her go.

"I had a feeling that those two would not get along well..." Reya expressed, revealing her prior anxieties.

"Their personalities clash, I'm afraid," Slater said. "I'm just glad that the situation was handled appropriately before it had the chance to erupt."

Noticing the clock of Old Montreal's City Hall, a building with a copper roof weathered into turquoise that ostensibly resembled the Statue of Liberty, Slater addressed the time on its old-fashioned face shortly before Reya asked him a question.

"Have you spoken to Vanessa lately?"

"Only partially..." Slater admitted. "I'm not sure when she'll be coming back for full-time competition, but she does have other priorities to consider."

"That is understandable..." Reya complied. "Though I do wonder what she will think ... or rather, what she has thought, at the prospect of you and I competing for a championship."

"She might enjoy it," Slater theorized. "In fact, she might bounce on the couch in excitement as she watches us wrestle, waving a Reya flag to signify her allegiance."

Blushing slightly, Reya smiled at that complimentary comment.

"We are bound by familial ties, after all," Reya announced proudly. "Though I do believe she will be wearing her Super Slater cape as well to equalize her support."

"I never knew there was such a cape," Slater said before he chuckled at the comical significance of this nostalgic accessory. He couldn't believe that someone would refer to him as a Superhero. He wasn't exactly Batman or Superman.

"Apparently she designed it herself," Reya explained. "You do need something special that will exemplify your stature as "The Silver Knight"."

"Well you're already special as "The Herald of Holiness"," Slater replied, forwarding his friendliness to ease Reya's internal nervousness.

"But I am sure that Cera will want us to bludgeon each other with those weapons during our match..." Reya mused rather drearily, bringing her other sister into the equation.

Cera definitely would have revelled in the malice and havoc of this hardcore division. She believed she was possessed by demons, tragically misguided and content with the principle of brandishing anyone she deemed affected by her existence with a "TAINTED" mark. Slater had been granted this mark last year, as had Reya, but their bodily locations were different. Reya kept the mark on her forearm concealed under her clothes. Slater, on the other hand, had nullified its symbolic meaning with his own symbolic cleansing; albeit one that had caused further lacerations to his abdomen.

"She won't be granted that kind of satisfaction..." Slater declared, focusing on Reya as they stopped near a corner store. "As I've explained, I won't be using weapons against you in our match. But it isn't just because you're a friend..."

"There are always more things attached to your methods," Reya remarked, causing Slater to nod.

"I had a dream the other day ... a reverie if you will..."

"What was this particular dream?" Reya asked, immediately intrigued.

"I was in a place such as this," Slater began. "Vibrant ... clean ... filled with purity. That was until the landscape began to shift. The buildings began to smoulder, burning with a rage that couldn't be calmed. The ground was shaking violently as debris rained down from the sky, ruining what had been a place of splendour and class. Then an army approached, wielding various weapons. They were acting more like a psychopathic mob more than a co-ordinated regiment. They began to tarnish everything, breaking the buildings apart and vandalizing whatever they saw..."

"That does sound terrible..." Reya said weakly.

"It was one of those dreams that had been crafted by my subconscious, making me realize something. It was all to do with this No Limits Championship and the division that comes with it."

Continuing to stare at Slater, Reya watched him scan Old Montreal once more.

"The citizens of Montreal have kept this location preserved," Slater said. "They adore their traditions, and will do everything in their power to keep them. That is why I will do everything in my power to preserve the traditional factors of wrestling, but in a way that will make people take notice and subsequently comprehend my vision."

"Whatever do you mean?" Reya enquired.

"There are going to be numerous challengers coming after us once we have decided who will stand as the No Limits Champion, Reya. They're going to be tempted by the utilities of weapons. They're going to salivate over the fact that there will be no legislated rules, providing them sufficient allowance to conduct their affairs in an extreme way. Their acts will be unmitigated and hostile, and it is all because of that very championship which we will fight for at NEW Generation."

Looking directly into Reya's eyes, Slater exhibited an aura of determination.

"If I do defeat you for the No Limits Championship, the battleground I'll be fighting upon might be strewn with weaponry and debris ... but I won't be tempted to use any of them. I'm going to represent this division in a different way. That way, Reya, is that I will be the champion that will not give up. I will not falter easily. No matter how much punishment I take, no matter how much blood I lose, no matter how many of my bones are broken, I will continue to battle with honour, suiting the traditions that I have endorsed and respectively absorbed through time. It will be my duty, not just as the Silver Knight, but as a man with a code of conduct to live by, to protect the sanctity and fundamentals of Professional Wrestling. Try as they might to take my throne, I will not be forced to surrender the crown without fighting for it first. This will be my quest, Reya, and I do intend to keep it."

Nodding with approval, Reya smiled at Slater, respecting his values and ambitious intentions to stay true to what he believed in.

"That is if you do defeat me, Matthew," Reya confidently said.

"I beckon the challenge, Reya," Slater replied, smiling in response. "My dream might have been disenchanted by the concept of this division, but soon enough, I will do my best to make that dream an absolute reality."

Taking a look at the distant clock also, Reya focused on Slater again.

"I think we should join Paxar at the cafe. I would not like to keep her waiting."

"Of course," Slater agreed, waiting for Reya to turn towards the opposite direction. Strolling back towards the cafe, Slater acknowledged the various buildings once more, still amazed by their majesty and upkeep.

His mission had been self-imposed. His objectives would be followed without failure.

He was going to do whatever he could to overcome Reya's technical capabilities at NEW Generation. He was going to do whatever he could to stand as the No Limits Champion without breaking his vows.

And then, his quest for traditional prominence would truly commence, not just being stored in his mind as a disenchanted reverie.
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