DECEMBER 12TH, 2016 CARDIFF, WALES MATCH RP FOR GALLOWS END 2018
Growing up in Omaha, Nebraska, Erica Moxie was used to cold and harsh winters. Evenings, and sometimes entire weekends, of shovelling snow were commonplace growing up. Here, in Wales, it was different. The weather was just as blistering, although not nearly as cold, and the torrents of snow had been replaced with drenching rain.
Erica crossed a road in the city centre, shielding her face from the rain to look for oncoming traffic. When she arrived on the other side of the street, she forced back the umbrella she was holding in her right arm against the wind. It inevitably folded back and broke. Grumbling to herself, Erica closed the umbrella and stuck it in a bin she passed, leaving it sticking out of the opening. She powered through the weather around a corner, where she found shelter from store roofs and towering buildings.
Now semi-sheltered, she pulled out her phone and glanced at the map in front of her.
"Down Chester Street, through the lane and into..." Erica mumbled to herself, but stopped when she saw the name of the road:
Ffordd Tân Y Ddraig.
"Ford Tan Why Drage?" Erica guessed mentally, but shrugged and pushed on.
Erica moved away from the busier city streets and into a quiet park with a lane around the outskirts. She followed the lane through a small wooded path and came out at an opening with some residential houses terraced on both sides. A sign bore the same street name she had just read on the map.
Feeling more sure of herself, she looked around. It took her a few moments to see, shrouded by a large oak tree, the small building that she was looking for.
It was not exactly what she had expected from the trainer school of a 4CW Hall of Famer. It was relatively small, about the size of three of the terraced houses. As Erica approached, she noticed above the door was a small metal sign, reading "The Bruiser School of Wrestling", emblazoned with a red dragon. Erica held her hand forward to push open the glass door, but didn't move.
This is crazy. I can't just... walk in, can I? I mean, sure I can, how the hell else am I supposed to sign up? But is it that easy? Just walk in and ask a wrestling legend to train me? Well, I'm not just asking. I'm paying... this is what people do... and anyway, Cain's probably not even there... Fuck it. Now or never. If I fall on my face, at least I don't live here.
Erica pushed the door open forcefully, entering with purpose. She passed through the threshold and into a small hallway. Ahead were double doors and Erica spotted wrestling rings through the glass before even reaching it.
Her heart skipped a beat.
This is it. Can't go back now.
Erica opened the door.
In the hundreds of times she had imagined entering the building on her eight-hour flight, she had been dreading a stereotypical 'room goes silent and everyone looks at her' type of nightmare. It replayed in her head again as she entered the room, but it was as if she hadn't walked in at all. Everyone continued on without any sign of realisation she had entered the room.
Somehow, this made Erica feel even worse. Now she had no idea what to do. Wrestlers were throwing each other around in one ring, while the other one was filled with a circle of people apparently listening to someone talking in the middle. Somewhat sheepishly, Moxie walked over to the ring and hovered around, staring into the circle of people and listening for a voice.
"So, in a nutshell, if you find yourself in that Figure Four, your options are roll over or tap. Don't try and withstand the hold, you will tear something and be on the sidelines for six months. I want drills here with you all in pairs of twos. If I see anyone in the hold for more than five seconds without tapping or rolling, we're gonna have some serious words."
The group dispersed and Moxie ended up making eye contact with the one person that had inspired her to arrive.
Shit! He is here! Dammit. Fuck. He's looking at me. What do I do? Shit!
Rhys Cain was looking at Erica curiously, and Erica imagined what she would think if she was Cain and saw a sopping wet, jetlagged young girl with a rucksack almost the size of her lugged on her back staring at him in his own gym. He approached Erica, sliding out under the bottom rope, to which Erica stood frozen on the spot, unable to break her gaze or say anything.
Oh, great fucking job, Erica! Now he thinks you're a crazy person!
"Are you a fan?" Cain asked, "Because I don't usually allow fans in here while active sessions are ongoing."
Worse! He thinks you're a fan! Doesn't even see you as a potential wrestler. GET. YOUR. SHIT. TOGETHER. MOXIE.
Erica cleared her throat, in the only way she could think of to refocus and met Cain's gaze more confidently (or at least what she hoped was more confidently).
"No, I'm not a fan." she said, "Well, I am - but I came here to sign up to your classes."
Cain raised a brow.
"You wanna train to be a wrestler?" Cain asked, curiously.
Erica nodded.
"Well, I've already wrestled some - but I'm fixin' to really learn." Erica replied.
Cain considered her for a moment.
"Can you afford my rates?" Cain asked.
"I - some. I suppose it depends how much I have to pay up front... but I'm really serious about this, Mr Cain." Erica said, mentally scolding herself for sounding like she was pleading.
"That accent... where have you come from today?" Cain asked.
"Um... well my mother was from Alabama, but I grew up with my Dad in Nebraska, sir. Omaha. That's where I came from today."
"Wait, you came from Nebraska - today?"
"Uh - yes. I got a flight about nine hours ago? Just came from the airport."
"Do you have family here or something?"
Erica shifted uncomfortably, breaking eye contact with Cain.
"Uh - no, not quite. I came here to train and well, find a room somewhere, I guess."
"So," Cain said, "You traveled from Nebraska nine hours ago to come here, and brought money to sign up for my Wrestling School and live indefinitely in a hotel?"
Erica didn't reply immediately. She wasn't sure if she was being scolded or not. There was an incredulous tone in Cain's voice.
"Uh - yes?" Erica finally replied meekly.
This is a disaster, girl! Get out ASAP and regroup.
Erica tried to open her mouth to make some excuse to leave, but she found that Cain had started smirking. Not making her feel any more comfortable, she grinned awkwardly back.
"You've got some drive, I'll give you that. Some balls, too... metaphorically speaking." He added, hastily. "I tell you what, go find a hotel and come see me tomorrow at 9am. We'll go for breakfast. You said you've wrestled before. Got any footage?"
"Um - yeah, there's some on YouTube." Erica replied.
"Bring that. We'll discuss details then."
"Um.... ok."
Holy fuck, did Rhys Cain really just invite me to breakfast?
"Once you've gotten over being starstruck, I'm really not that scary." Cain smiled, "And don't call me Mr Cain, makes me feel old. Rhys will do fine. Bruiser is you want a cooler alternative."
Erica snorted. Cain grinned again.
"Get out of here then... what's your name?"
"Erica... Erica Michaels."
"Well, Erica, there's an umbrella over there you can take, or you might not even make it in tomorrow."
Erica turned on the spot and left without another word. She swiped the umbrella on the way out and walked down the street and back into the wooded area before falling against a tree and breathing the biggest sigh of relief ever. If she had been in the ring fighting Cain, she would have felt more comfortable than she did talking to him.
But you did it! Rhys Cain knows who you are. Rhys Cain knows your name. Holy. Shit.
Erica Moxie Profile
DECEMBER 12TH, 2016
CARDIFF, WALES
MATCH RP FOR GALLOWS END 2018
Growing up in Omaha, Nebraska, Erica Moxie was used to cold and harsh winters. Evenings, and sometimes entire weekends, of shovelling snow were commonplace growing up. Here, in Wales, it was different. The weather was just as blistering, although not nearly as cold, and the torrents of snow had been replaced with drenching rain.
Erica crossed a road in the city centre, shielding her face from the rain to look for oncoming traffic. When she arrived on the other side of the street, she forced back the umbrella she was holding in her right arm against the wind. It inevitably folded back and broke. Grumbling to herself, Erica closed the umbrella and stuck it in a bin she passed, leaving it sticking out of the opening. She powered through the weather around a corner, where she found shelter from store roofs and towering buildings.
Now semi-sheltered, she pulled out her phone and glanced at the map in front of her.
"Down Chester Street, through the lane and into..." Erica mumbled to herself, but stopped when she saw the name of the road:
Ffordd Tân Y Ddraig.
"Ford Tan Why Drage?" Erica guessed mentally, but shrugged and pushed on.
Erica moved away from the busier city streets and into a quiet park with a lane around the outskirts. She followed the lane through a small wooded path and came out at an opening with some residential houses terraced on both sides. A sign bore the same street name she had just read on the map.
Feeling more sure of herself, she looked around. It took her a few moments to see, shrouded by a large oak tree, the small building that she was looking for.
It was not exactly what she had expected from the trainer school of a 4CW Hall of Famer. It was relatively small, about the size of three of the terraced houses. As Erica approached, she noticed above the door was a small metal sign, reading "The Bruiser School of Wrestling", emblazoned with a red dragon. Erica held her hand forward to push open the glass door, but didn't move.
This is crazy. I can't just... walk in, can I?
I mean, sure I can, how the hell else am I supposed to sign up?
But is it that easy? Just walk in and ask a wrestling legend to train me?
Well, I'm not just asking. I'm paying... this is what people do... and anyway, Cain's probably not even there...
Fuck it. Now or never. If I fall on my face, at least I don't live here.
Erica pushed the door open forcefully, entering with purpose. She passed through the threshold and into a small hallway. Ahead were double doors and Erica spotted wrestling rings through the glass before even reaching it.
Her heart skipped a beat.
This is it. Can't go back now.
Erica opened the door.
In the hundreds of times she had imagined entering the building on her eight-hour flight, she had been dreading a stereotypical 'room goes silent and everyone looks at her' type of nightmare. It replayed in her head again as she entered the room, but it was as if she hadn't walked in at all. Everyone continued on without any sign of realisation she had entered the room.
Somehow, this made Erica feel even worse. Now she had no idea what to do. Wrestlers were throwing each other around in one ring, while the other one was filled with a circle of people apparently listening to someone talking in the middle. Somewhat sheepishly, Moxie walked over to the ring and hovered around, staring into the circle of people and listening for a voice.
"So, in a nutshell, if you find yourself in that Figure Four, your options are roll over or tap. Don't try and withstand the hold, you will tear something and be on the sidelines for six months. I want drills here with you all in pairs of twos. If I see anyone in the hold for more than five seconds without tapping or rolling, we're gonna have some serious words."
The group dispersed and Moxie ended up making eye contact with the one person that had inspired her to arrive.
Shit! He is here! Dammit. Fuck. He's looking at me. What do I do? Shit!
Rhys Cain was looking at Erica curiously, and Erica imagined what she would think if she was Cain and saw a sopping wet, jetlagged young girl with a rucksack almost the size of her lugged on her back staring at him in his own gym. He approached Erica, sliding out under the bottom rope, to which Erica stood frozen on the spot, unable to break her gaze or say anything.
"Can I help you?" Cain asked.
Erica opened her mouth and gaped for a second.
"Uh... Hi, Mr Cain.... um, wow." Erica spluttered.
Oh, great fucking job, Erica! Now he thinks you're a crazy person!
"Are you a fan?" Cain asked, "Because I don't usually allow fans in here while active sessions are ongoing."
Worse! He thinks you're a fan! Doesn't even see you as a potential wrestler. GET. YOUR. SHIT. TOGETHER. MOXIE.
Erica cleared her throat, in the only way she could think of to refocus and met Cain's gaze more confidently (or at least what she hoped was more confidently).
"No, I'm not a fan." she said, "Well, I am - but I came here to sign up to your classes."
Cain raised a brow.
"You wanna train to be a wrestler?" Cain asked, curiously.
Erica nodded.
"Well, I've already wrestled some - but I'm fixin' to really learn." Erica replied.
Cain considered her for a moment.
"Can you afford my rates?" Cain asked.
"I - some. I suppose it depends how much I have to pay up front... but I'm really serious about this, Mr Cain." Erica said, mentally scolding herself for sounding like she was pleading.
"That accent... where have you come from today?" Cain asked.
"Um... well my mother was from Alabama, but I grew up with my Dad in Nebraska, sir. Omaha. That's where I came from today."
"Wait, you came from Nebraska - today?"
"Uh - yes. I got a flight about nine hours ago? Just came from the airport."
"Do you have family here or something?"
Erica shifted uncomfortably, breaking eye contact with Cain.
"Uh - no, not quite. I came here to train and well, find a room somewhere, I guess."
"So," Cain said, "You traveled from Nebraska nine hours ago to come here, and brought money to sign up for my Wrestling School and live indefinitely in a hotel?"
Erica didn't reply immediately. She wasn't sure if she was being scolded or not. There was an incredulous tone in Cain's voice.
"Uh - yes?" Erica finally replied meekly.
This is a disaster, girl! Get out ASAP and regroup.
Erica tried to open her mouth to make some excuse to leave, but she found that Cain had started smirking. Not making her feel any more comfortable, she grinned awkwardly back.
"You've got some drive, I'll give you that. Some balls, too... metaphorically speaking." He added, hastily. "I tell you what, go find a hotel and come see me tomorrow at 9am. We'll go for breakfast. You said you've wrestled before. Got any footage?"
"Um - yeah, there's some on YouTube." Erica replied.
"Bring that. We'll discuss details then."
"Um.... ok."
Holy fuck, did Rhys Cain really just invite me to breakfast?
"Once you've gotten over being starstruck, I'm really not that scary." Cain smiled, "And don't call me Mr Cain, makes me feel old. Rhys will do fine. Bruiser is you want a cooler alternative."
Erica snorted. Cain grinned again.
"Get out of here then... what's your name?"
"Erica... Erica Michaels."
"Well, Erica, there's an umbrella over there you can take, or you might not even make it in tomorrow."
Erica turned on the spot and left without another word. She swiped the umbrella on the way out and walked down the street and back into the wooded area before falling against a tree and breathing the biggest sigh of relief ever. If she had been in the ring fighting Cain, she would have felt more comfortable than she did talking to him.
But you did it! Rhys Cain knows who you are. Rhys Cain knows your name. Holy. Shit.
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