[ROTHBURN] I: “Redux”
“It’s been far too long, hasn’t it, Nohelle?”
The tone of our hero’s voice is one filled with longing...almost regret, as we pull into the frame. Sunlight dappling the room through the window behind him, giving him an almost saintly aura, if one was to put that fine a point on it. The words go unanswered, but the camera shifts almost imperceptibly, an up-and-down motion signifying the slightest of nods, giving away the game somewhat as to just who it is manning the hand-held on this particular afternoon. For his part, Ian Rothburn sits backwards in a chair, straddling the seat in as relaxed a position as the man can proffer, arms draped across the frame, fingertips tracing the top lightly, scowling momentarily at a bit of dust found there before flickering it away, his attentions finally snapping back to the camera, the hint of a smile playing across his features.“It has. It has indeed. Far too long. I must apologize, for my laxness, dear people. After the closure of Pride & Honor, I was...well, admittedly, I was thrown for something of a loop. Yes, even I, Ian Rothburn, was left at a bit of a loss by such a sudden and unexpected circumstance. So much so that I was forced to find...other pursuits to occupy my time.
Other pursuits that, unfortunately….simply were not satisfactory.
Apart from one, of course.”
That smirk returns, if only momentarily, the slightest of chuckle’s passing the man’s lips.“But yes, my attempts at finding something to dominate my time were met with round failure, for the most part. As is typical...so little in this world truly captivates the mind, or the spirit...or the body, for that matter. There is so little that one can engage in that will truly stimulate and provide the interest and entertainment necessary to not be purely, utterly, resoundingly…
bored.
It’s all so...droll. So utterly disinteresting. It can distract for a few moments, to be sure. It can be a passing fancy, this life of hours, to take a few minutes, a few hours, and fill them with levity. With interest. With
excitement. But in the end, it all wanes. It all fades into the inky nothingness, leaving that gnawing rawness that one simply cannot ignore.
I
despise boredom.
It’s a harsh term, this I know. But all too true. I’ve simply been...bereft, ever since I left the squared circle behind. Fulfilled in one particular aspect of my life, yes...but otherwise, left barren. Yearning for a challenge. For something to sate that...hunger for competition. That need for the intricacies of martial combat, of the game of ring generalship….of this sport of ours. Low and high I searched for something to fulfill that desire. I thought I might have found a niche, one that might suit a man of my particular talents and abilities...One that might provide for me the challenge I so desperately require.
But alas, it was not to be.
Perhaps that was my own fault, to some extent. I have a very...particular standard. Not out of any particular kind of arrogance, mind you...but out of need. Only the very best competition will do, or all of this effort I’ve chosen to put into this occupation of ours will go for naught...and that is something I simply will not allow to happen again. Pride and Honor taught a harsh, cruel lesson on that particular front. If I am to step back through those ropes again, and ply my craft once more...it must be an assured bet. The competition must be of a caliber capable of providing the challenge I require...and I must know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that my endeavours will not, in fact, be fruitless.
Long have I searched for something to match these goals, and long have I been left wanting.
Until this particular moment.
The Pro Wrestling Project. Something which I have a modicum of experience from previous times. A place that always held a certain amount of intrigue for me...that I, unfortunately,was never able to give my full attention. Other obligations held sway, in that regard...but always, in the back of my mine, I had hoped to return to these halls, and give this particular Project the attention it richly deserved.”
A wry grin.“Lo and behold, I’ve been provided such an opportunity. One would almost look upon this luck with disbelief...but not I. The fortune I find in this...particular occurrence, almost appears to be ordained.
If one believes in such divine mandates, of course. I assuredly don’t, but it does...have a certain touch of destiny to it, doesn’t it? Here I am, back within the safety of this Project once more, a prodigal son returned...with an opportunity for grand rewards placed in front of me, almost from the start. It’s a flattering feeling, to be given such...but perhaps my reputation has preceded me. Whatever the case...I have an opportunity. An opportunity to take hold of a golden idol that eluded me...quite harshly...in every other turn I have had in this industry…
...and possibly, an opportunity to claim a particular modicum of...satisfaction against one person in particular, if the chips do indeed fall where I believe they may.
It’s an opportunity rich in rewards, and rife with peril...precisely what a man of my stature requires. I have had my faith in this Project rewarded already...and now it is time to repay that faith in kind, with a performance worthy of the high standing I’ve been given.
And that brings me to you, Savannah.
You are...a worthy adversary, at least, within these walls. Perhaps not as gilded as some others, perhaps not feared or universally renowned...but a game opponent, all the same. Savage, intense, wild...unpredictable. Some would find such a woman daunting...but I find it refreshing. You have experience, after all, within these walls. You are one who has become synonymous with the project, in both of its incarnations. Someone who has a certain cache, among those who would call this place home. A regular, if you would.
That means something.
That means you have a will. A certain, unerring quality that allows you to persevere. Even in the face of failures, catastrophic or otherwise, you have moved on, kept your head high, and continued to fight. Even when this place lay dormant, you were lying in wait, ready to retake the reins as though you never left.
I admire that, Savannah, I truly do.
I admire it...because it will make what is about to happen into Toronto that much more meaningful. It will make the moment when I step through these ropes, to face down Savannah, game and savage PWP competitor, mainstay of the Project, constant among those who roam these halls...It will make that something to savor. Something for the masses to focus on, to enjoy, to drink in, to truly sink their teeth into.
It will make this game we are about to play all the more interesting…
Which will make my victory all the sweeter.”
A slight nod, as Ian drums his fingers across the back of the chair rhythmically.“I did not return to the Project to find failure, Savannah. I did not step back through these ropes, did not choose to ply this craft we share once more simply to make myself known, to go through the motions and leave. No. I have a need, a need to be entertained, to sate my boredom, and this sport is the only way in which I have found sufficient to do that. I need to wrestle, Savannah, in order to continue to exist...as only I can.
And if I am to wrestle, I am going to do it at the very highest level.
There is no if, and or but. No question. No in between.
If we are to play this game, Savannah, it is a game that I fully intend to win.
Luckily for me, I am uniquely equipped to do just that. I understand what it is we do, in all facets, possibly to a finer point than any other...and I am singularly prepared for any and all circumstances which will arise. You pride yourself on your savagery, Savannah...but I pride myself on taming even the most savage of beasts. You pride yourself on being a true wild card within those ropes...But alas, dear Savannah…
I pride
myself on making even the most unpredictable of opponents...mundane.
You will be a game combatant, Savannah, of that I have no doubt. But I have a singular aim, and a multitude of grander goals...Some more gilded than others, and I do not intend to be derailed. Not so soon, and not by you. You will bring a fight for the ages, Savannah, at least, that is my hope…
But you will be bested, all the same.
I will appreciate your efforts, in fact, I already do…
But I have not come this far, back from the brink, to be rebuffed.”
That wry smirk returns once more.“It has been far too long, Pro Wrestling Project.
I look forward to our reacquaintance.”
With that, our man stands up, spinning the chair away as he walks easily out of the frame, leaving the camera to focus on the bright rays of sunlight dappling through the window...before we cut.
