"You scratch my back, I'll scratch yours"

["The New Era Icon" David Calaz]

"The New Era Icon David Calaz is walking down the corridor of the arena having left his den behind him as he says he is entering a new era, he walks past many doors with names on and a few locker rooms, he arrives at one door with a huge star on the front, under the star is a sign and it reads "XVI World Heavyweight Champion "The Morning Star" Johnny Mental", Calaz stares at the door for a while before pulling down on the handle and slowly stepping inside, across the room sits "The Morning Star" on a couch watching the aftermath of Calaz vs. Convict from the previous Side Effect, Calaz walks over to Johnny Mental as he switches off the T.V. and stands up getting nose to nose with "The New Era Icon", Calaz extends a hand to Johnny Mental and with a serious expression and in a soft tone begins to speak

Calaz
Hey champ, I've been looking for you all over this place

The champ seems hesitant to shake Calaz's hand and leaves his hand down for a while staring Calaz straight in the eyes

Calaz
Come on champ were partners this week and your not even going to shake my hand, I respect you show you respect me just the same

Calaz emphasizes the fact that his hand is out and ready to be shaken as "The Morning Star" stares down at his hand then back up to Calaz's face once again


OOC: To be continued by Johnny Mental only

[MorningStar]

Somewhat amused, somewhat shocked, “The MorningStar” Johnny Mental stands in the doorway, eyes boring into young Calaz. Enmeshed arms folded, he leans against the doorjamb, his lower lip bulging occasionally as he bites his tongue thoughtfully. For a long moment they remain as such, a tableau of tension... Then Mental seems to awake from his reverie and pushed from the doorway, indicating his locker room with a nod of his head.

<|?|> The MorningStar <|?|>
C’mon in, kid.

Spinning gracefully on the ball of his foot, Mental enters his locker room, not bothering to check if Calaz is following. Pulling up a seat in a hastily erected folding chair, Mental sits with his back to the door, taking in again the less than opulent surroundings. You’d expect a champion to have the whole hog; pristine walls, plush carpets, elegant artwork and tasteful greenery… not a squalid changing room like the rest of the roster. But our Johnny has never been one to let it go to his head; he’s a wrestler, same as the rest, and wishes to be treated as such. A click behind him and hollow footsteps indicate that Calaz has followed his instructions… he hides a smile to himself as he reaches to the cheap table for his Benson and Hedges cigarettes, swiftly lightning one and throwing the pack back to the table. In the chair opposite, Calaz sits down nervously.

<|?|> The MorningStar <|?|>
Look, Dave, it’s nothing personal, ok? I just don’t deal well with others… never have, guess I never will. Still, better the devil ya know, eh? Cards on the table, I ain’t gonna hold the past against you… I know you want this…

He reaches over to his XVI Heavyweight Championship Belt, stroking it’s immaculate golden surface.

<|?|> The MorningStar <|?|>
… But then again, so does everyone in this building. This is more than ten pounds of leather and gold, Dave… this represents Alpha Status, a pinnacle that few have ever known… I can’t well blame you for wantin’ it, can I?

Mental leans back in his chair, taking another contemplative drag on his cigarette, exhaling in small, expanding circles before tapping the growing grey ash into the ashtray upon the table. Heaving himself up, he leans forward hands on knees, staring into the middle distance as he speaks…

<|?|> The MorningStar <|?|>
I know what they’re doing, Dave… I know they’re all plotting, whispering in their dark corners with darker words, working out how to topple The MorningStar. Their poisoned daggers and barbed arrows… always seeking one weakness; one chink of armour that they can exploit, twist it around and use it against me… but they’ll fail, David… Oh how they’ll fail…

Mental looks up, slate grey eyes staring straight into Calaz’s, the corners of his mouth upturning into an almost boyish grin; disturbingly set at odds with his words.

<|?|> The MorningStar <|?>
That’s why I picked you for this, kid… That’s why you’re my partner in all of this. Y’know, I look at you out in that ring… and I see myself four years ago. The same drive to impress the fans, the same passion for the sport you love, the same wide eyed hunger for recognition and respect… I know how that feels. Given time, you could be the next big thing, kid.

That’s what sets you aside from the rest of the riff raff, kid… potential. I know it when I see it, and you’re stuffed with it. With you in my corner, there’s no weak spots, no chinks in the armour. I could’ve picked The Dark Hal0, who’s one of the few people to have beaten me. I could’ve picked RKO, a seasoned veteran… hell, I could’ve picked Makiaveli himself… but I didn’t, I took a risk on a new kid with something to prove. Watch my back, I’ll watch yours, and we’ll dominate. Think you can do it?

…’Cos I KNOW you can do it…

With a cheeky wink, Mental takes a final drag on his cigarette before outing it in the ashtray. Leaning back once more in his chair, he motions to the door with his head.

<|?|> The MorningStar <|?|>
Right, now if you’ll excuse me dude, I’ve got a lot to do… see you in the ring…