Finding Duce in Djibouti
May 4, 2022 3:34:56 GMT -5
Dylan Thomas, Veronica Strader, and 1 more like this
Post by BRIM on May 4, 2022 3:34:56 GMT -5
It had been mere moments when the OCW Crew first landed in Djibouti. It was a tough and treacherous journey through the canals of Djibouti but we landed safely and were hella relieved that the nightmare was finally over. After being congested within the confines of the chopper, BRIM felt the weight being let off when he was finally able to unboard the helicopter that brought them to a place that he never heard of before in his life. With both Savage Championships strapped together around his neck, a barefooted BRIM knew what his first course of action should be, finding some suitable footwear for his bruised and worn feet.
Military personnel moved around the campsite, making sure that all matters of business were in order as members of the OCW crew moved around to get settled in. This brought discomfort to BRIM, hashing up old memories of being captured along with Tyler the cameraman. When he somehow found himself within the confines of a concentration camp. He quickly shakes them from his brain, opting to become acclimated with his surroundings before making any sudden decisions. He looks around some more, spotting soldiers with assault rifles in hand, guarding the perimeter. He spots a few watchtowers with snipers at the point, ready and willing to take anyone out if need be.
“T’fuck has Welsh gotten us into now?” BRIM whispers to himself.
“I don’t know big fella but this ain’t no place for folks like you and me.”
BRIM is startled, looking towards his right and standing beside him is Sugar Valentine. BRIM gives him a quick once over, his suit dingy and ripped from the stay on the island.
“Between you and me, I think it’d be best if we just get out of here and go find some nice women to.. y’know” He winks at BRIM. “Have some fun with.. For a small fee of course..” He smiles with a twisted grin, the single gold tooth in his mouth still somehow shines.
“Do I know you?”
“It’s me baby!” Sugar says clapping his hands and taking a step back while throwing his hands out to his sides. “It’s Sugar Valentine, official manager of all female entertainment within OCW! I’ve got this one bitch..”
BRIM turns to leave.
“Hey man, her name’s Roxxxie Gobbler and…”
BRIM pays him no mind, continuing through the camp until he comes to a tent that’s been set up to temporarily house the talent and staff until everything comes back clear with everyone. The journey from the island to Djibouti was a tiring one, exhausting if you will and BRIM having stayed up for the entirety of the journey felt that a nap was in order. Stepping inside one of the tents, he spots a cot with his name on it, not literally but in his mind, BRIM is stitched beautifully in all CAPS. He sits down, removing the Savage Championships from around his neck and laying them down on the ground besides him. He soon stretches out and closes his eyes. Trying to get the memories of the island out of his brain.
“Fucking, bunyip..”
BRIM chuckles to himself from the idea.. His eyes soon became heavy, tired from the trip. He then falls fast asleep.
Two Days Later
We finally catch up with BRIM who appears to be well rested, showered and refreshed. Now sporting a new pair of boots, BRIM strolls around the encampment until he comes upon an exit and is allowed to freely leave. Walking through the gate, he steps into what appears to be a neighborhood that borders the camp. However, this neighborhood is different from your usual scenery as every house is blocked off by brick walls with razor wire spooled across the top of it. This is unsettling to BRIM who continues to block out memories of being incarcerated. He sets his sights forward, focusing on nothing in particular until he comes to a set of stairs that lead down. He descends down them until they curve off into what appears to be a market area.
Cart upon cart upon cart line up both sides of the garbage ridden area. BRIM strolls through menacingly as locals move out of his way, haven’t seen someone of his size in quite some time. He comes to a stop at one of the carts that seems to be selling different types of fruit. He spots an orange and gives the owner some money for half a dozen. BRIM communicates by pointing and displaying numbers with his fingers and giving the owner however much money that he asks for, not concerned about the amount. While the owner bags up his purchase, the sound of some familiar voices catches BRIM’s attention.
“His ass gotta be round here somewhere.. This is where tha website said that they landed.”
“Why on earth would they land here?”
“I stopped askin’ questions afta’ we did that show in North Korea. Y’kno’ how nerve wracking it is t’perform in front’a dictata’ who only solution fa’ anythang is death?”
BRIM turns to where the conversation is being held when he spots Duce and Byson walking near. He throws his hands up to gain their attention.
“What t’fuck are y’all doing here?”
Duce appears excited while relief falls over Byson’s face.
“Man we’ve been lookin’ fa’ yo big ass fa’ bout a week. Where t’hell have you been?”
BRIM sighs, reliving the week on the island within his mind.
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told ya.”
Duce shrugs.
“I guess..”
“How’d you guys get here?”
“You forgot that I have a private jet?” Byson questioned.
“I honestly did.” BRIM replied.
“Of course you did or else your dumb ass would’ve never gotten on that plane with the rest of those damn fools.”
BRIM wants to be angry but Byson does have a point.
“So did you guys catch the shows?”
“Yep. congrats on keepin’ tha Savage strap but that’s not why we’re here.”
BRIM seems confused.
“What’s up?”
“Have ya eva’ wondered why tha Angels of Vengeance just up an’ stopped chasin’ us?”
BRIM is baffled by the question.
“I guess that I have but I just chalked it up to them getting tired.”
“Welp..” Duce states. “That’s not quite tha full story but afta’ Monday we need t’head back t’tha states.. Speakin’a which.. This Plethora dude.. We need t’talk bout somethin’..
BRIM nods, grabbing the fruit from the vendor and heading back towards the steps from which BRIM arrived earlier. The three head in that direction as the scene fades out.
After Massacre…
Duce has finally managed to get BRIM out of the arena and away from Plethora who’s stalking them with his MIGHTY SCYTHE. BRIM is still enraged that his friend wouldn’t allow him to go ahead and handle business against the current OCW World Champion.
“GET T’FUCK OFF ME!”
“Bruh, calm yo ass down! Save some of that anger fa’ when tha two’a y’all step in tha rang wit each otha!”
BRIM tries to calm himself but still looks deathly at the arena.
“This is what he wants, he wants ya off ya game. He likes t’get inside’a folks head’s. Don’t let em’ do that shit t’ya. Besides we got some shit t’handle. His fat ass can wait.”
BRIM finally calms down, taking Duce’s words into consideration. Byson soon pulls up in a rental and honks the horn.
“C’mon B, let’s go do this an’ come back an’ then whateva happens, happens..”
BRIM nods, the two leaving and getting inside of the vehicle as Byson pulls off.
Military personnel moved around the campsite, making sure that all matters of business were in order as members of the OCW crew moved around to get settled in. This brought discomfort to BRIM, hashing up old memories of being captured along with Tyler the cameraman. When he somehow found himself within the confines of a concentration camp. He quickly shakes them from his brain, opting to become acclimated with his surroundings before making any sudden decisions. He looks around some more, spotting soldiers with assault rifles in hand, guarding the perimeter. He spots a few watchtowers with snipers at the point, ready and willing to take anyone out if need be.
“T’fuck has Welsh gotten us into now?” BRIM whispers to himself.
“I don’t know big fella but this ain’t no place for folks like you and me.”
BRIM is startled, looking towards his right and standing beside him is Sugar Valentine. BRIM gives him a quick once over, his suit dingy and ripped from the stay on the island.
“Between you and me, I think it’d be best if we just get out of here and go find some nice women to.. y’know” He winks at BRIM. “Have some fun with.. For a small fee of course..” He smiles with a twisted grin, the single gold tooth in his mouth still somehow shines.
“Do I know you?”
“It’s me baby!” Sugar says clapping his hands and taking a step back while throwing his hands out to his sides. “It’s Sugar Valentine, official manager of all female entertainment within OCW! I’ve got this one bitch..”
BRIM turns to leave.
“Hey man, her name’s Roxxxie Gobbler and…”
BRIM pays him no mind, continuing through the camp until he comes to a tent that’s been set up to temporarily house the talent and staff until everything comes back clear with everyone. The journey from the island to Djibouti was a tiring one, exhausting if you will and BRIM having stayed up for the entirety of the journey felt that a nap was in order. Stepping inside one of the tents, he spots a cot with his name on it, not literally but in his mind, BRIM is stitched beautifully in all CAPS. He sits down, removing the Savage Championships from around his neck and laying them down on the ground besides him. He soon stretches out and closes his eyes. Trying to get the memories of the island out of his brain.
“Fucking, bunyip..”
BRIM chuckles to himself from the idea.. His eyes soon became heavy, tired from the trip. He then falls fast asleep.
Two Days Later
We finally catch up with BRIM who appears to be well rested, showered and refreshed. Now sporting a new pair of boots, BRIM strolls around the encampment until he comes upon an exit and is allowed to freely leave. Walking through the gate, he steps into what appears to be a neighborhood that borders the camp. However, this neighborhood is different from your usual scenery as every house is blocked off by brick walls with razor wire spooled across the top of it. This is unsettling to BRIM who continues to block out memories of being incarcerated. He sets his sights forward, focusing on nothing in particular until he comes to a set of stairs that lead down. He descends down them until they curve off into what appears to be a market area.
Cart upon cart upon cart line up both sides of the garbage ridden area. BRIM strolls through menacingly as locals move out of his way, haven’t seen someone of his size in quite some time. He comes to a stop at one of the carts that seems to be selling different types of fruit. He spots an orange and gives the owner some money for half a dozen. BRIM communicates by pointing and displaying numbers with his fingers and giving the owner however much money that he asks for, not concerned about the amount. While the owner bags up his purchase, the sound of some familiar voices catches BRIM’s attention.
“His ass gotta be round here somewhere.. This is where tha website said that they landed.”
“Why on earth would they land here?”
“I stopped askin’ questions afta’ we did that show in North Korea. Y’kno’ how nerve wracking it is t’perform in front’a dictata’ who only solution fa’ anythang is death?”
BRIM turns to where the conversation is being held when he spots Duce and Byson walking near. He throws his hands up to gain their attention.
“What t’fuck are y’all doing here?”
Duce appears excited while relief falls over Byson’s face.
“Man we’ve been lookin’ fa’ yo big ass fa’ bout a week. Where t’hell have you been?”
BRIM sighs, reliving the week on the island within his mind.
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told ya.”
Duce shrugs.
“I guess..”
“How’d you guys get here?”
“You forgot that I have a private jet?” Byson questioned.
“I honestly did.” BRIM replied.
“Of course you did or else your dumb ass would’ve never gotten on that plane with the rest of those damn fools.”
BRIM wants to be angry but Byson does have a point.
“So did you guys catch the shows?”
“Yep. congrats on keepin’ tha Savage strap but that’s not why we’re here.”
BRIM seems confused.
“What’s up?”
“Have ya eva’ wondered why tha Angels of Vengeance just up an’ stopped chasin’ us?”
BRIM is baffled by the question.
“I guess that I have but I just chalked it up to them getting tired.”
“Welp..” Duce states. “That’s not quite tha full story but afta’ Monday we need t’head back t’tha states.. Speakin’a which.. This Plethora dude.. We need t’talk bout somethin’..
BRIM nods, grabbing the fruit from the vendor and heading back towards the steps from which BRIM arrived earlier. The three head in that direction as the scene fades out.
After Massacre…
Duce has finally managed to get BRIM out of the arena and away from Plethora who’s stalking them with his MIGHTY SCYTHE. BRIM is still enraged that his friend wouldn’t allow him to go ahead and handle business against the current OCW World Champion.
“GET T’FUCK OFF ME!”
“Bruh, calm yo ass down! Save some of that anger fa’ when tha two’a y’all step in tha rang wit each otha!”
BRIM tries to calm himself but still looks deathly at the arena.
“This is what he wants, he wants ya off ya game. He likes t’get inside’a folks head’s. Don’t let em’ do that shit t’ya. Besides we got some shit t’handle. His fat ass can wait.”
BRIM finally calms down, taking Duce’s words into consideration. Byson soon pulls up in a rental and honks the horn.
“C’mon B, let’s go do this an’ come back an’ then whateva happens, happens..”
BRIM nods, the two leaving and getting inside of the vehicle as Byson pulls off.