[b]July 4th, FBI Headquarters 7:30 AM EST[/b] Two men in suits- not the sort of nice suits you've come to expect from a Death Man post, but the sort of suits a man in a government position is required to wear to work- sat in a meeting room, briefing their superior. The man was a gruff, gray-haired type, absolutely typical of this position in fiction- down to the cigar he was chomping as he went over their documents. "Okay, let's go over this one more time." "It started in New York, with the theft at the crime museum... and then burglarizing the apartments of his victims. Since, he's been moving southwest." The shorter of the suited men spoke up, wearing a dark grey number. "From the storage of a museum in Gotham, New Jersey, he stole five ingots of unknown metals, engraved with the iconography of an owl. Probably belonging to one of that haunted shithole's billion conspiracies." The taller, his suit a dark blue, continued. "There's no proof it's haunted, Roger." The short one replied. "The asylum bleeds, Ed." The tall man, apparently named Roger, shot back. "Gentlemen." "...Right. From Hub City, he broke into the national history museum and stole a number of fossilized dinosaur eggs. They'd be worth a lot to collectors, but not something that'd be easy to fence." Roger continued. Ed, however, rolled his eyes. "Roger, if half of the stories we have from the World War II era are true, I'm pretty sure he can find a guy to buy the damn eggs." "Honestly, it might be a collection deal. Maybe he steals as a strange kind of... performance art, almost." Roger muttered, looking at the cigar box on the table. Their superior handed one over as he grunted. "You two aren't here to profile this weirdo, you're here to give me your report." Ed took a few quick puffs on the cigar as he continued. "Sorry sir. Anyway, he made his way to Metropolis, where he broke into LexCorp's lab. We don't know how he got past the security system. Stole several mildly radioactive space crystals of varying color." That seemed to worry their superior. "Radioactive? Is he building a-" "They're less radioactive than a Uranium watch. We checked, Gold, Green, Blue, and Pink specimens were stolen. He seems to have a fondness for objects of singular nature." "Such as?" "The Amber Room." Roger turned, raising an eyebrow. "I thought that was the Nazis, Ed." "Nah, Roger, the Nazis stole it, then Death Man stole it from the Nazis in transit. According to the file, he left a letter saying it was because Hitler insulted his costume... and misappropriated a Buddhist symbol." Now that got the superior's attention. "Okay hold on. You say he met, and was insulted by Hitler. How old is this guy?" "...Well... The first sighting of Death Man was in Japan, before World War I." "How long before World War I?" "...Well... 1910, sir." The superior didn't take that well. He inhaled deeply, face turning purple with rage, and snatched the cigar from Ed's mouth. "I'm sorry, I must have fucking misheard, because it SOUNDED like you said this guy's over a century old." "...Well... there's a number of possibilities, but as you know, Japan doesn't like sharing information with outsiders. Our current theory is that there is no single Death Man, and that the mask is passed along through generations of criminals after they find a worthy successor." The superior took a deep breath. You could almost hear him counting to ten in his head. "...So what you're saying is, after he robs a bank in broad daylight, tears a swathe through the Eastern Seaboard, and hijacks a broadcast... We don't even know the real name behind it." "He uh... well, we know he has ties to organized crime. We're just not quite sure what." --- [b]July 13th, Mexico City International Airport 6:00 AM[/b] It would have been a tight fit in that box, even for a master contortionist. It would have been a tighter squeeze through the airport's vents. And that's why Shousei Kougami, owner of the Rogue Alliance of Wrestling, had bought a ticket from Houston. He could have used one of his Deathmobiles stashed across the country, but the US Border was something he just didn't have time to account for if he was going to make the tournament- and the heist that awaited amid the hustle and bustle of the crowd. After retrieving his belongings from baggage claim, he met a Korean man in a grey suit at the curb. A Chevy Nova, not something Shousei had ever ridden in before. He put his luggage into the trunk and climbed into the passenger's seat as they pulled away from the airport, speaking to each other in Japanese. [color=black]"Alright, Doyun, what's the deal?"[/color] ["The usual, Mr. Kougami. We brought the wrestlers most popular with the Mexican demographic. Kid Phoenix's combination of oil wrestling and acrobatics proves to be a hit. Silver Stag and Big Beet are our faces. And, of course, Senketsu Joe gets a lot of respect for being a legacy... and one of Japan's top heels."] Doyun offered Shousei a bottled coke, which he accepted gladly. This dry heat was not at all what he was accustomed to. [color=black]"I don't mean our wrestlers, Doyun, I mean the Mexican ones."[/color] ["Well... it's fairly standard for them as well. El Gaucho, Loco Loro, the works. But... they seem to have some new talent."] Shousei looked to the driver and raised in eyebrow. [color=black]"...They're starting a new guy in a tournament?"[/color] ["Yeah, the card says he goes down to Joe in the fourth round. Joe goes to the finals and loses a close match."] [color=black]"...They're letting a new guy get to the fourth round, where he goes down to RAW's star Heel."[/color] This was unusual for... any number of reasons. Whether it was physique, performance, or personality, someone that could get that kind of respect from a promotion like El Combate Federacion de Mesoamerica must be something special. They were known to be less than helpful to new talent. Someone with the kind of draw that even CFM could recognize was worth recruiting to RAW. [color=black]"I need everything you can get me about this... this... What's the guy's name?"[/color] ["They call him... "Bane.""] --- July 13th, Arena Coliseo, 5:30 PM Ultimately the time had finally arrived, this would be the moment that all of Bane's hardwork was leading up to. He was going to win the Mask of Azteca, not for the Combate Federacion de Mesoamerica, but he was going to win it for himself. Only he truly deserved that mask, for he knew the history behind it. He understood the bloodsport of ages past, Bane cherished them and basked in their glory. No one was going to stop him from claiming his rightful prize. Not those foreigners who thought they could waltz in and claim it; nor would any of the other stars of the lucha promotion that Bane was acting as a mercenary for would retain it for them. Underneath a pair of lockers Bane sat down on a bench feeling an intense bloodlust flowing through his veins. All he needed at this moment would be his bloodlust, for he had no doubt in his abilities. Venom would not be needed here; after all the white mat jungle was a place of honor. And while Bane was a rudo, he still had a semblance of honor. Unjust as it was, Bane was to be a hero for this single moment. These competitors deserved at least a fighting shot, a shot that any man with two hands could take, to claim victory. Plus Bane knew enough about the ways of the fans and the tradition of wrestling to know that no matter what he did, he was probably going to be cheered tonight by the fans. He was part of the home team, a warrior who practiced their traditional fighting style of lucha libre, who was going against the invading foreigners, those students of [i]'Strong Style'.[/i] Unwarranted cheers would be flung upon Bane; well at the very least until end where Bane would illustrate to all, that despite being a familiar warrior, he was not to be celebrated. But until then, the fans could cheer their hearts out. Hope would not be extinguished for either the viewer-base or the competitors; that would be premature. It needed to seed and germinate inside their hearts before Bane allowed all hope to die. He knew that his matches would be starting soon, and so Bane had to make himself presentable. After all no wrestler worth their salt would just come into the ring, wearing street clothes or without a proper entrance in mind. It was as much about the initial appearance, if not more so, than the work inside the ring. So Bane opened up his locker and began to make the final preparations. The first he grabbed out were his spiked knee pads. Bane stared at them for a moment before deciding against putting them on, so they were returned back to the locker. Well that wasn't needed, nor was his 'bragging title'. Hm. Well this was probably going to be a plain opening in that case; so Bane simply just grabbed some white hand-wraps, sat down on the bench and began applying it. With that done it was time for the [i]real show[/i] to begin... ...But first he probably wanted to move his devious duffelbag under the ring. Hope was to die after all. --- For a showing of lucha libre there was no better place for experiencing the spectacle of violence that was lucha libre than the Arena Coliseo. This building had a rich history, what with being built in the 1940s for the promotion CMLL in order to serve as the primary base of operations. However over the years they didn't have much of a stranglehold over this particular arena due to the fact that they constructed Arena México to serve as their new base for shows. While Arena México held more prestige now, due to CMLL moving to it for primary business, alongside being the largest venue built specifically for professional wrestling, Arena Coliseo was still very important to the sport. And this arena was certainly a good location to host a proper tournament for an icon as cherished as the Mask of Azteca. Even beyond that, this arena still could boast a rather massive audience with a seating capacity of 16,500. And the center of attention to all who were in attendance, was the squared circle. The illustrious white mat jungle, where men would enter and if the fates, well perhaps the more cynical would just explain it as 'booking', allowed they would achieve great honor and glory in victory. This ring was a standard four sided ring with black covered turnbuckle pads and three sets of white rope which were easy to give way for high flying aerial moves, fitting with the particular flavor of violence that the people demanded. And of course the mats of the ring themselves were made of a thick canvas, which showed its age as it would spit up dust if a particular nasty bump was done upon it. And also of note was the positioning of the commentary team, which was right next to the ring for a 'clear view of the action', which in actuality meant that their tables, the English commentary tables, but strangely not the Japanese commentary tables, were destined to be destroyed in all sorts of interesting ways. Around the ground level stands, there were only a few minor metal cage fences surrounding the area, which were mostly to keep the wrestlers from landing in the crowd all too often. The beer bottles, batteries and other nasty things that would be thrown by the crowd either because they were displeased at the vile nature of the heel, or just out of drunken fun, were not really stopped by this. Security would most likely deal with them, unless they were a diehard mark and were willing to be unprofessional just to get a dig in. As for the ramp to the ring proper, it was rather unremarkable, but it served its purpose for letting wrestlers in and out to the ring in an efficient manner. A set of images quickly flashed on the jumbotron that hung just above the ring; it depicted the two contestants who were next in the upcoming matches. The first image was of the RAW Promotion's very own Doyun Kim, and the second being the image of CFM's newest acquisition, the luchador Bane. After these wrestlers were shown there was a quick transition to an image of a bracket depicting the various talent on both Team Mexico and Team Japan and their current standings. But one thing was for certain, no matter how these brackets were going to progress. This was going to be a display of [b]spectacular violence[/b]!