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    1. ZeusTheMoose 10 yrs ago

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Is this one of them no joshi type Japanese thingymabobs.


Yeah the original plan was to base it off of New Japan Pro-Wrestling, which means there would be no joshi division. At least for now.

I’m interested as well, got a CS ready


Cool, what's your character idea?


Hey so I figured it was time to try and start up a pro wrestling RP. The problem that these kinds of RPs encounter is that it's typically difficult for the story to build any momentum since wrestling revolves around weekly TV episodes leading to a PPV. That's a lot of shows that have to happen before a major storyline event.

My idea would basically be to center the RP around a Japanese wrestling promotion. Meaning that we would focus only on the major monthly events, because that's where the main action happens. It would allow every match to be significant, and would better enable long term storytelling.

Each player would also get to control two characters instead of one, so not every match would be between characters controlled by different players. Some would, some wouldn't. We would treat full-time tag teams as a single character, to pad out the roster more and allow for a larger tag team division. We'd also throw in a few lowcard guys to further increase the roster size, characters that everyone could freely use and wouldn't belong to one particular player. They'd be bodies to fill out multi-man matches or work as enhancement guys.

If you're interested and a serious wrestling fan, post here. We will need a solid level of interest to make creating the RP thread worthwhile.

Also, if you're a NJPW fan, hope you've been enjoying the G1 tournament. And if you're a WWE fan, hope you're excited for SummerSlam and NXT Brooklyn.
R.I.P
Definitely interested, great idea
Match #4: Sexton P.S. Love vs. Thunderbird



The vaguely orgasmic tones of Sexton Love’s music hit as the Love Doctor sauntered his way down to the ring.

“Birdy baby, get ready to feel the THUNDER!”

The camera panned down from Sexton’s face, getting a shot of his new t-shirt.“THUNDER BIRD” was plastered across the front, in surging, electrified font. Beneath the words, a downward-pointing arrow shaped like a lightning bolt.

“...I am MR. ELECTRICITY, daddeh...”

Indeed.

Mr. Electricity spun around, grinding his hips, showing off his lackluster buttocks and the back of his shirt. The text read, “Sin City Showdown. 9/18/2017,” the date of this highly anticipated rematch against Thunderbird, the real Thunderbird. Sexton had worn this shirt the last couple of weeks on television, leading up to the grudge match here on pay-per-view. Now it was finally time. Sexton felt the momentum building as they stormed towards Las Vegas. He had taken was was clearly supposed to be a throwaway midcard angle and turned it into one of the biggest bouts on the show. He had made it PERSONAL.

In truth, Thunderbird was the perfect opponent for The Sexcellence of Sexecution. A proud man of few words made for a great foil to Big Daddy Love's larger-than-life personality and rather colorful verbiage. A great athlete with explosive speed, the Man Called Bird hit the ropes harder than perhaps anyone that Sexton had ever worked against.

The Lovely One stepped into the ring, but as be began the usual ritual of flexing and posing the arena lights suddenly cut out...

KRAKOWWWW!

Lightning flashed through the arena, striking the entrance way.

The crowd rose to their feet as the returning hero rose from the depths beneath the stage. A phoenix emerging from the ashes, Thunderbird was adorned in a vibrant, feathered headdress, his body covered in war paint. Through his mask we could see the mighty warrior's steely blue eyes, locked onto his prey standing in the center of the ring.

Before Sexton could process what was happening, Thunderbird had already reached the ring. He made a beeline for his opponent, a full-out-sprint down the ramp!

Realizing what was about to happen, the veteran heel slid out of the ring on the opposite side. His rival however, was a man on a mission. Thunderbird swiftly followed him, giving chase to Sexton around the ring. The Love Doctor wanted absolutely no part of the man he had screwed out of the A.W.E World Heavyweight Title...

Sexton circled the ring as Thunderbird closed-in, finally rolling back under the bottom rope. When his feathered adversary tried to follow suit, Sexton pounced, landing a cheap shot as Thunderbird slid in the ring. Viciously, Tyrannosaurus Sex tore into the mighty Bird, hitting him with everything he could. Kicks, stomps, clubs, elbows. A barrage of blows.

They had absolutely no effect.

With each hit, Sexton's opponent seemed to grow stronger, more defiant. Thunderbird pulled himself up using the ropes, every inch of his body vibrating in rage. The noise from the crowd was deafening as Thunderbird continued to shake, powering himself up. Another punch, and another, and another. Still no effect. The Bird continued to rise!

Sexton looked around in disbelief, a panicked expression on his face. He put everything he had into one final, desperate, double-handed sledge. The attack bounced off of Thunderbird's chiseled lats, knocking Sexton backwards!

Thunderbird was up on his feet, holding onto the ropes having weathered the storm! Channeling the Ultimate Warrior, he violently shook the top rope, seemingly shaking the entire ring, the entire arena, and firing up the crowd. He turned and looked Sexton, who was now down on his hands and knees, begging for his life. Thunderbird's prey was at his mercy, and no mercy would come.

The Man They Call Bird strutted around the Man They Call Love, with his signature tribal war dance. Sexton's head swiveled left-and-right looking for an escape, but there was none. Thunderbird lashed into his opponent, kicking his ass all over the ring and taking him pillar-to-post-to-pillar-again! He ripped the shirt off Sexton's back and threw it to the ground, planting Sexton on top of it with a huge running powerslam!

Rather than going for the pin, Thunderbird picked up his opponent. He wasn't anywhere close to finished with him yet. The Bird grabbed Sexton and elevated him for the Totem Pole Suplex, a signature move, but the crafty villain managed to counter by TWISTING THUNDERBIRD'S MASK and dropping down behind him!

With his mask turned sideways, the proud warrior had been blinded! He threw a spinning haymaker but missed wildly as he attempted to re-adjust the mask. Sexton landed a shot to the midsection, which the blind Bird had no hope of blocking, and followed it up with a neckbreaker. The Rude Awakening. Unlike his opponent, Sexton immediately went for the cover.

Thunderbird powered out at ONE.

Mr. Electricity was shocked, looking at the referee and then at the fans as if he could not believe what had happened. Slowly, Thunderbird got up to his feet, and turned his mask around. His eyes were locked on his opponent. The Love Doctor threw a big right hand, and then a left. Thunderbird ducked both, catching Sexton with a massive clutch slam, nearly driving him through the canvas.

WHAM!

Big Daddy Love landed hard and came up selling his back, begging off from the babyface once again. Thunderbird threw the Lovely One head-first into the corner, following it up with a series of knockdowns. He clobbered Sexton with a devastating clothesline, taking him all the way over the top rope to the floor!

Unrelenting, the Bird continued his assault outside the ring, slamming Sexton into the guardrail and onto the thin protective mats. He smashed the Lovely One's money maker into the announce table, tearing off the top of the table in the process!

Thunderbird was hell-bent on revenge. Not only had this man cost him the World Championship, he has disrespected his Native American heritage, disrespected his mask, and left him TARRED-AND-FEATHERED in a pool of his own blood. Sexton wanted to make it personal, and it was DAMN SURE personal.

It was not, however, a street fight, and the referee was forced to intervene. As Thunderbird set up the dazed and battered Sexton Love on the announce table, the official tried to step in. Thunderbird shoved him off, knocking him to the ground outside the ring. The Bird was a whirlwind of rage, and he wasn't going to let anything, or anyone, get in his way.

Thunderbird climbed up onto the table and lifted the limp carcass of his hated rival. He placed The Sexcellence of Sexecution in a powerbomb position, and hooked both arms. Could it be? The Warpath River Plunge... through the announce table?!?

Thunderbird tried to lift the Lovely One, but Sexton desperately blocked it. He broke the double underhook grip and quickly hit the Bird with a crouched low blow. The referee was still regaining his equilibrium after being shoved off by Thunderbird and didn't see the illegal move. As his opponent doubled-over in pain, Sexton stood up and elevated him overhead with a massive back body drop!

BOOM!

Thunderbird crashed through the table, with the barely conscious Sexton falling on top of him! Total carnage at ringside!

Slowly, Sexton pulled himself up and dragged his opponent into the ring. He wanted to pin him and end it right there, but Thunderbird's pride and perseverance could not be denied. Still defiant, Thunderbird began to pull himself up using the ropes again, despite lacking the strength he had earlier in the match. The Bird would not stay down.

“Sexton Love is the FACE of this company, darlin'...”

SMACK! Sexton slapped Thunderbird in the side of the head, punctuating his point.

“...He doesn't HIDE BEHIND A MASK!”

Like a dog on raw meat, Sexton targeted his oppoent's mask, attempting to remove it. The Bird hit and elbow to the gut and shoved him back, creating some momentary separation. Thunderbird tried to shake off the pain from the hard table bump he just took, but Big Daddy Love was soon on him again. Roughly grabbing hold of Thunderbird's neck, the neck he had injured in their tournament match, Sexton maneuvered his opponent into a DDT position!

At the last second, Thunderbird countered the front facelock, rolling out of it with a arm wringer and taking Sexton down! The Crippler Crossface! An incredible reversal out nowhere! The submission was locked in, but Sexton scrambled quickly to grab the ropes forcing a break. The Lovely One clung to the bottom rope with his outstretched hand, but the enraged Thunderbird refused to relinquish the hold! Finally, the ref managed to pull Thunderbird off.

Trying to maintain some semblance of control, the official pushed Thunderbird back to the middle of the ring, standing between him and his opponent. Sexton was still holding the bottom rope, clearly the worse for wear. Again, Thunderbird shoved the official aside, setting up Sexton for the Warpath River Plunge. The few seconds of reprieve proved to be enough, as Sexton made another miraculous counter, escaping the deadly tiger bomb with a double leg takedown and seamlessly turning it into a catapult!

Thunderbird was vaulted towards the turnbuckle, his face smashing off the top. Sexton followed it up with an Oklahoma roll out of the corner, exploding into a bridging German suplex! The back of Thunderbird's head and neck was driven sharply into the mat as Big Daddy Love thrusted his pelvis upwards for the pin!

The SEX PLEX! A picture-perfect bridge! The referee jumped nearly halfway across the ring to make the count!

1...

2...

KICKOUT!

Thunderbird would not stay down! Sexton appealed the decision to the referee, but the official stood firm and held up two fingers. A clear two count. It wasn't over. Sexton slammed the mat in frustration, as Thunderbird pulled himself up by the ropes one more time. The Bird began to shake. His fighting spirit was second to none.

“...Is that all you got?”

To answer, Sexton rebounded off the ropes across the ring, charging towards his enemy at full speed. The Lovely One attempted a lariat, but Thunderbird was one step ahead of him! The Bird caught his arm and dropped him into the Crippler Crossface! His finishing hold!

The Native American wrenched back on the submission as the crowd went wild. Sexton was trapped, the hold was locked in! With his one free hand, Sexton reached around frantically for the nearby bottom rope, looking for another break. This time however, Thunderbird expertly rolled backwards while maintaining the hold, re-positioning both wrestlers in the center of the ring! The T-Mobile Arena erupted, as it looked as though the heel would have no choice but to tap out!

Frantically, Sexton felt around with his hand, looking hopelessly for some means of escape. The ref dropped down and was now face-to-face with him, asking repeatedly Sexton if he wanted to give up!

Seemingly out of options, the Love Machine reached back with his hand, hooking his fingers into the eye sockets on Thunderbird's mask! He twisted and pulled on the mask once more, this time ripping it off of Thunderbird's face!

An audible GASP from the crowd. The masked hero's face had been exposed!

Instinctively, Thunderbird released the hold, using his hands to cover his face. Big Daddy Love capitalized by rolling up his distracted opponent, the freshly removed mask still clutched in his hand! The MASSIVE PACKAGE!

1... 2... 3!

IT WAS OVER!

The Man Called Bird rolled out of the ring, still covering his face and-- BAM! Sexton shoved him from behind, directly into the ring post. A sickening crack echoed throughout Las Vegas as Thunderbird's head made contact with the post, splitting him wide open. Blood ran down the great Bird's face, just as it had on Shock 'N' AWE several weeks ago. Thunderbird's blu tribal mask had been replaced by a sickening CRIMSON MASK.

The Love Doctor tossed Thunderbird back into the ring. He had beaten and unmasked his opponent, but he wasn't through. Sexton lifted Thunderbird up into a Torture Rack, and proceeded to drive him down to the canvas with the SEXECUTOR, his finishing move. The bloodied and battered Bird was laid out in the ring.

Sexton walked over and picked up the mask. It had been the hero's ACHILLES' HEEL, as it were, the key to Sexton's victory. The camera zoomed in for a close-up on the sinister villain as he knelt down, holding Thunderbird's mask in one-hand, and the Bird's bloody, exposed face in the other.

“I told ya, darlin'...” said Sexton, directly into the camera and somewhat out out breath.

“I told ya that I am a man's man... and a ladies' man...”

His words were barely audible, given the deafening boos rocking the T-Mobile Arena.

“But MOST OF ALL, daddeh... I am a BAD... BAD... MAN...”

The Sexcellence of Sexecution walked out of the arena, taking Thunderbird's mask with him as a trophy. To the victor went the spoils.

It was time to celebrate in Sin City.

Pretty glad to see this back, I'm still on board if you want a little Sexton P.S. Love darlin'
I could get into this, will be looking out for the OOC thread.
CAPTAIN THADDEUS ANTARES

New Terra. The crown jewel of human colonization.

As his shuttle descended, Thaddeus couldn't help but be in awe of the magnificent cityscape. In some ways, returning to New Terra was an adventure for the Captain. Technically speaking, the Terran capital was his home, but it felt almost as though his home was everywhere else. Off in the distance. Among the stars.

New Terra was a city under construction. No world had been spared from the carnage of the Terra-Martian War, least of all the Terran capital. When the rebel colonies banded together to form the Martian Legion, New Terra was a major target. Thaddeus could understand why. The disproportionate resources dedicated to New Terra certainly help make the planet a wonder to behold. A true human marvel. But it was unsurprising that more distant colonies harbored resentment.

Thaddeus himself was a builder of sorts, a bridge-maker, helping to forge a bridge between the Terran Republic and Martian Legion. The War had ended ten years ago, but there was still work to be done. Thaddeus was prepared for the next stage of the project. He was prepared for the future. In truth, he was an architect of the future. He always had been.

The veteran Captain made his way through the city towards the central plaza, site of Republic capital building. His destination was near the top floor. As Thaddeus stepped inside an elevator he noticed a Republic ensign already standing there, no doubt running some tedious errand for one of the higher ranking government officers. The ensign was exhausted, but upon seeing Thaddeus he immediately adjusted his posture, standing at sharp attention for the duration of the silent elevator ride.

Rather awkward.

The ensign was relieved when Thaddeus finally arrived on his floor. As the Captain exited the elevator he could see the ensign relax again out of the corner of his eye. Thaddeus reached his destination, the Admiral's office.

"Well I'll be damned. Captain Thaddeus Antares."

The Admiral extended his hand, and Thaddeus accepted. It had been some time.

"'The Negotiator,' that's what some are calling you now. 'The Peace-Maker,' 'The Architect of Tomorrow.'"

"I still prefer Captain," replied Antares.

"I know you do," said the Admiral, as he began rummaging around his desk. "After the treaty was signed they offered you a position in the Terran High Command, but you declined. Something about scientific exploration being more important than politics."

"Something like that. Maybe I knew they'd turn around and give the position to you." Antares laughed. "Admiral Donnelly. Sounds pretty good, though it's lacking that alliterative flair. Perhaps they should've named you Director instead."

"Fuck off Antares."

Donnelly produced two glasses from his desk, along with a half-filled bottle of Irish whiskey. A favorite from their time in the War.

"You really do believe in it, don't you?" asked the Admiral as he began to pour. "The Alliance?"

"I helped found the Alliance Intiative," said Thaddeus. "At this point I'm just trying to protect my own personal reputation."

"I'm serious."

"You've known me long enough to understand my perspective, Donnelly. You served with me in the War. You saw what a nightmare it was. We can't go back to that. We've come too far as a species."

"War is human nature, Thaddeus."

"Curiosity is human nature. Exploration is human nature. Science is human nature."

"Of course. The Antares manifesto."

"The Alliance will help to inspire the scientific discoveries of tomorrow. We can't afford to fight amongst ourselves. We have work to do out there. A lot of fucking work to do. How's that for a manifesto?"

"You have work to do out there, Antares. The USS Hawking is ready to depart. Your tomorrow is almost here. The new Alliance flagship, a unified Starfleet under your vision," the Admiral paused and chose his next words carefully.

"Don't fuck it up."

He handed Antares a glass of whiskey, the Captain was one of the few who could keep up with Donnelly in this particular department.

"I've looked over your recommendations for senior officers. Your bridge crew has been approved."

"I personally vetted the candidates myself. I didn't realize that they were merely recomendations. And that they were subject to your approval, of all people."

"The Terran Republic still maintains some oversight with respect to the Alliance, Captain. And I do, in fact, outrank you. But that was your decision, not mine."

"Well I'm not in the business of making bad decisions, Admiral."

"Your choice of First Officer was rather curious though. Commander Roger River, Martian Legion. Ex-military. A bit rough around the edges. I supposed you meant it as a sign of good faith to our Martian allies that one of their own take on such a high rank. But if I were you, I'd still watch him carefully."

"Let's just say I'm hoping for the best, but prepared for... the alternative."

"I'll drink to that, Captain." Donnelly raised a glass. "And to your good health."

Thaddeus nodded, raising his own glass.

"To the unknown."

Thaddeus tossed back the whiskey in one gulp. He certainly had his fair share of experience from the War, but it had been awhile since then. He had nearly forgotten the burn of Old Terran alcohol.

Nearly.

"Old Terra's finest," said Donnelly, placing down the glass. "Well Antares, the USS Hawking is docked at The Reach, our deep space station. She's undergoing some final touches, but all should be well upon your arrival."

"The space station, or the ship?"

"Both," the Admiral replied. "I've already taken the liberty of notifying your senior officers. The bridge crew will rendezvous with you at The Reach. From there you can depart. Good luck on the frontier, Thaddeus. I know you've been waiting for this."

"I don't need your luck, Admiral. But I'll take another bottle of that Old Terran, should you be willing to part with it."
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