The Progeny

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Ashlee
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The Progeny

Post by Ashlee »

There were perks to having one of the big shows in St. Louis. When Wes found himself day after day fulfilling his duties as EBWF's Chairman, it was nice when he got to go back and sleep in his own bed. Things had been nonstop the entire week, and had only picked up once the Fanniversary festivities began on Wednesday. It was just after 8pm, and Wes had stuck around at the America's Center to visit with all of the staff and crew who brought their kids to the annual trick or treating event that had become a tradition during Fanniversary weekend. His 6 year old son, CJ, had dressed up as Spiderman, and Natalie had walked him around from booth to booth at Access, pushing their 5-month old daughter, Finley, in a stroller. It was the first opportunity that his wife had had to show off their little girl to the EBWF Staff, and everyone was appropriately fawning over her. Wes considered it something of a blessing that Natalie was his better half. Regardless of how people seemed to feel about him, she was universally loved, and by extension, their children were loved too. Wes was at the steering wheel of Nattie's Mercedes-Benz GLS SUV. It was unusual to have all 6 of them in the same car these days. Blaine was 20, and McKenzie 17, so they didn't need their parents to chauffeur them around anymore. Wes could see them both on the very back bench seat, headphones in. McKenzie was texting. Blaine was deep in thought, about what, Wes couldn't say, but he looked a little troubled. In the middle seat, CJ sat on a booster chair and Finley had her infant car seat. It wasn't a long drive, but CJ was still watching videos on an iPad. Natalie sat to Wes' right, and he reached over and put his hand on her knee as the gates that led to their private drive, opened slowly.

Natalie Neidhart: You okay?

He glanced over at her and nodded. She let him lie. Not sure he'd have been able to pinpoint what it was the felt just slightly off anyway. There was another SUV behind them that got caught at the gate, but Wes could see it was the Jerichos, so he proceeded up the drive. The compound that Randy Orton and Edge had jokingly begun calling "Ikeda Manor" some years ago was expansive, and the Jerichos lived in their own home on the property about a mile away from 'the big house'. Chris and Jessica had moved their three children to St. Louis seven years ago after the shooting at EBWF Headquarters when it became clear that it was going to take a long time for Wes to get back on his feet. By the time it seemed reasonable for them to consider going back to their home in Tampa, three years later, Jessica and Chris couldn't see separating their children from Wes'. And though she hadn't belabored the point at the time, Jessica had mentioned that she'd rarely gone a day without seeing CJ, a newborn in the midst of chaos at the time, and whom Wes had lovingly named Christopher because of reasons that didn't need to be explained. Jessica had wanted to stay, and Chris was happy to make that happen. After all, it was true for as much road living as he'd done, home was wherever Chris' family was. And so it was that that was how Chris and Jessica Jericho had come to live in St. Louis, with their son Ash, now 16, and their twin girls, Sierra and Cheyenne, now 13. And so it was, that that was how Blaine Ikeda often considered that he, quite unconventionally, found himself with four parents. His Other Dad was much more easy going than his actual dad, but he assumed that Ash probably thought Wes was much more easy going than Chris. Maybe all young men thought that about their fathers. 
Wes stopped the SUV just outside the back deck, and once he had it in park McKenzie and Blaine started to climb out of the back.


Blaine Ikeda: You gonna wear those Doc's you have on, Dad?

Wes Ikeda: Yeah, I'm just going to change my shirt.

McKenzie slid out of the SUV and went straight for the deck.

Blaine Ikeda: Can I wear your J's? The ones with the red swoosh?

Blaine had been able to wear Wes' shoes for a couple of years now, but letting the kid scuff up his Jordan's was not his favorite thing. It was the first Dinner with the Divas Blaine was going to get to hangout at though.

Wes Ikeda: Yeah. That's cool. They're in the shoe rack in my closet.

Blaine Ikeda: You're the best.

Wes Ikeda: I know. Unbuckle your brother.

Natalie had already gone around the car to get Finley. Blaine unbuckled CJ's restraints and helped him down out of the SUV. His unsure footsteps up the deck stairs slowed Blaine down, and after a moment, Jericho was beside him waiting for the steps to clear.

Chris Jericho: He try to change his mind yet?

Blaine Ikeda: I think I'm in the clear. He told me I could borrow his shoes.

Chris Jericho: Still hasn't said anything about the match?

Blaine Ikeda: Nothing. Well...

They followed CJ through the back door and into the kitchen. Blaine looked back to make sure his dad was still with Natalie at the car. 

Blaine Ikeda: He kinda threw the card at me and told me not to break my neck. Does that count?

Chris Jericho: No. No it doesn't.

Chris stepped aside as his children came through the back door, tossing bags on the table, and making themselves at home. Ash went to the refrigerator. This behavior might have been rude anywhere else. but as Jess, Natalie and Wes came through the door they paid no mind to the disorder that had already began.

Jessica Jericho: You're sure Ellie will be okay tonight?

Natalie Neidhart: My mom is really excited. Plus, the girls are no trouble, and Ash and Kenz are a big help with CJ and Fin, so she'll be fine. You get to come out and have fun with us!

Blaine saw his dad shoot Chris a knowing smirk. Nattie had called Finley "Fin". It was what Wes called her and it was starting to stick despite Natalie saying she didn't like it.

Wes Ikeda: We're leaving here at 9:40.

Jessica Jericho: Guys, Dad and I are going to go up to the house to get ready. Do you want us to bring anything back for you?

There was a series of head shaking and disaffected grunts, and with that Wes shooed Chris and Jessica out the door. It would prove to be a great night. Everyone who was anyone was at Dinner with the Divas, and Blaine knew this was the first of many he'd attend. Blaine couldn't help but notice that when the topic of his match at Fanniversary came up, if Wes was in earshot, he let the topic barely scratch the surface, and then glossed over it. Blaine knew that his dad had been against it, but he didn't know he'd outright avoid it like he was. Sitting in the booth at Ike's, the "sports bar", his dad had owned since he was five, Blaine felt pretty much at home. Sports bar was really kind of a misnomer since it served as an entertainment complex, with a dance floor and a stage, with bars along both ends and seemed like it was wall to wall packed for events like this. Chris had told Blaine that his dad didn't know how to handle the situation, and while Blaine guessed that could be true, it seemed a little unlikely. His dad knew how to handle every situation. From Blaine's observation, Wes wasn't acting at all like himself. He seemed uptight. It was more than the pre-Fanniversary jitters though. Blaine thought his dad seemed almost nervous, abated only when the lights went out over the stage and he and Rich Ward played out the opening riff of "Nowhere to Run" and the lights came up and he was jamming with Fozzy to a crowd of people who knew every single word. But Blaine knew that the man on stage was his father, the character - the overconfident, arrogant, self-important, unfuckwithable. His dad, in his Wes Ikeda mask. A legacy, Blaine knew, was made for him. 

staring at the barrel of a gun
nowhere to run, nowhere to run
I can feel it burning in my lungs
nowhere to run...


------------------------------ 
August 2019


Wes had heard all he'd wanted to hear. This creative meeting was going nowhere fast and it seemed like Jim Ross hadn't expected it to go any differently. Chris Jericho sat silently to Wes' right. Lynne McClinton took notes. Paul Heyman would not stop talking.

Paul Heyman: He's ready, Wes!

Wes Ikeda: Thanks for the opinion, Paul. I said no. Come up with something else.

Paul Heyman: There's a handful of people he'd be comfortable with. We could make this good for him.

Wes stood up, and from the other side of the table Lynne McClinton shot Paul Heyman a stern look as she dutifully took notes. Wes was done, and Paul would stop talking if he knew what was good for him. 

Wes Ikeda: Back to the drawing board. Let me know when you got something. 

Wes left the conference room, leaving Jericho and Jim to look at Heyman and both shook their heads. Heyman turned his attention to Chris. 

Paul Heyman: You have to talk some sense into him.

Chris chuckled lightly in response, and shook his head.

Paul Heyman: C'mon, Chris! You know the boy is ready.

Chris Jericho: It doesn't matter what I know, Paul. I might be able to talk Wes into a lot of things, but I'm not touching this one.

Paul was exasperated, and he couldn't imagine having to broach this subject with Wes again. It turned out though, that he hadn't had to. Wes had left the conference room and gone back to his office, only to find his wife waiting inside. Natalie had known immediately that something was bothering him,  but even as he was explaining it to her, he could tell she didn't quite agree, which only seemed to be frustrating him more.

Natalie Neidhart: Honey, listen, if you're completely against it, I'll support you. Chris and Randy have really been working with him. I've seen him. He's good. He could be really great. And baby, if he's not great, here with us? He's going to take his last name and be great somewhere else. You know he will. And at least this way, if you're involved, his debut could be perfect. Don't you want that? For us to make things perfect for him?

Wes narrowed his eyes at her, not wanting to admit that she was probably right. Instead, he let out a low growl in his chest and mumbled.

Wes Ikeda: I'll think about it.

And suddenly, Wes found himself in a feud with CM Punk.

 
------------------------------ 
The Present


The day had arrived. Blaine was set to have his debut match tonight against a lot of people's dream opponent. There was a piece of him that knew getting to start against an opponent like CM Punk had everything to do with his last name and absolutely nothing to do with him having earned it, but he was going to seize the opportunity for sure. Randy and Adam had offered to share their locker room with him, and he was grateful for it, because truth be told, he'd been getting a little nervous and having to share a common locker room with the incessant questions about whether or not he was nervous or ready was actually on making him feel even more nervous and unprepared. He'd already been in a meeting about the match. He knew about a big spot or two. He knew when it would go on in the show. His dad still hadn't come in to talk to him. Blaine was expecting him to come wish him luck, or come walk him through a few things, but nothing. Nattie had come by, and said it was a busy night, and she'd be back later. When there was another knock on the door, Blaine looked up hopefully again. It was Chris.

Chris Jericho: You alright? Can I get you anything?

Blaine Ikeda: No. I'm okay. I've gotten lots of nice messages from people all day. Torrie and Jamie even sent me presents.

Chris didn't ask about Wes. He already knew.

Chris Jericho: You want to go over the sequences again?

Blaine Ikeda: No, I remember.

Chris Jericho: One palm squeeze?

Blaine Ikeda: Stop short.

Chris Jericho: Two?

Blaine Ikeda: Off the ropes.

He continued before Chris could ask.

Blaine Ikeda: Three is into the corner.

Chris Jericho: Right. Fall flat. Don't compress. Take as much impact over as much surface as possible. Will hurt less tomorrow than falling on one area over and over again.

Blaine Ikeda: I remember. Protect my opponent, and if he doesn't protect me, punch him in the head.

Chris Jericho: I don't think that's exactly what I said, but yes.

Blaine looked up and cracked a smile. Before Jericho could say anything more the door opened, and Randy walked in with Natalie trailing behind him.

Natalie Neidhart: Okay, I have gear options and shiny new boots!

Blaine Ikeda: Gear? I'll take the boots, but I don't think I need gear. I'm just gonna wear jeans and a wife beater. Easy.

Also Wes' wrestling uniform of choice.

Natalie Neidhart: You do not sound like a guy getting ready for his first big wrestling match. Why so glum?

Blaine Ikeda: I'm not glum. I just... I guess I just thought that Dad would... I don't know. Be a lot more interested in this?

Natalie Neidhart: He's working on it, buddy. He'll come around. In fact, I bet he'll be the first person at the Gorilla waiting for you when it's all over.

Blaine Ikeda: Yeah, I guess.

Randy saw Jericho look over at Nattie and shake his head. He knew better than to try to make Wes see reason. It might even delay a change of heart, but this was not how Chris would have handled a decision Ash was making. At least, he didn't think so. Randy sighed. He reached for a nearby chair, and flipped it around, sitting backward in it to face Blaine. Jericho and Natalie took a step back, letting them talk.

Randy Orton: Okay, kid. Let's talk. We probably should have talked about this a whole lot sooner, but I was avoiding it.

Blaine raised his eyebrow in doubt. He couldn't remember his family before Uncle Randy. Randy and Nicole Ikeda had been together for over 10 years, and Blaine thought his uncle was pretty direct. Seemed strange he'd try to avoid anything.

Blaine Ikeda: Avoid what?

Randy Orton: That I'm the only wrestler you know whose dad was a wrestler.

An offended gasp came from behind Randy.

Natalie Neidhart: Excuse you!

Randy shot Nattie a smirk, and then turned back to Blaine.

Randy Orton: I'm the only guy you know whose dad was also a wrestler.

Randy looked to Natalie again, feigning as though he was looking for her approval.

Natalie Neidhart: Better. Barely Better.

Blaine grinned.

Randy Orton: The point is, I've been there. It's challenging. Especially when who you are is all wrapped up in...

Blaine Ikeda: ...My dad?

Randy nodded.

Blaine Ikeda: I just want him to know that all of this... his life's work. It's not for nothing.

Randy Orton: That isn't on you. There's nothing that you can do to prove that to him. He's got to know that for himself. And there are days he doubts it, but deep down he does know it. What you do out there, tonight or the next 25 years, has to be for you. It can't be for your dad, or some legacy you think you have to continue. You have to go out there and be yourself. Don't worry about being Wes Ikeda's son. Don't worry about how anyone else wrestles. As far as we're concerned, you're nobody. Fresh start. You're facing CM Punk because you're good. We have that in common too. We're both way, way better wrestlers than our dads.

Blaine chuckled, and Randy heard Jericho chuckle behind him too. Blaine couldn't help but think that Randy didn't even speak to Bob Orton anymore. His cousin, Karlee, was five, and as far as Blaine knew, Bob had never even met her. One day, Blaine would work up the nerve to ask Randy why, but whatever it was, he didn't think it had anything to do with wrestling.

Randy Orton: So how about we don't do the jeans and wife beater? You're a wrestler, not a glorified stuntman. Not trunks though. You got some full length tights in there, Nat? Maybe those. Old school, Jericho.

Yes, in fact, she had a few options and she started pulling things out of bags from wardrobe. Blaine had seemed to perk up, and Jericho grabbed his new boots and started to unlace them. Natalie was laying out the tights, and Blaine was looking them over. He was between a metallic black pair with silver accents and a matte black pair with light blue accents. They were in mid conversation, and the door opened. They all turned toward it, expecting Edge, but instead Wes came in. He was holding a black duffle bag, and he surveyed the scene.

Wes Ikeda: Ready?

Blaine nodded.

Wes Ikeda: Good.

He looked over the tights Blaine was deciding between and said nothing. Then he opened the bag and pulled out a worn, well loved pair of wrestling boots. He put them down on the table next to the tights.

Wes Ikeda: Since you like wearing my shoes so much.

Blaine's eyes moved to those boots, and then back up to his dad's face.

Wes Ikeda: Breaking in a new set of boots can be a bitch.

Blaine nodded.

Blaine Ikeda: Thanks, Dad.

Wes Ikeda: You're welcome. Don't break your neck.

Wes turned to go, and Blaine grinned after him. Then the young man turned back to the decision at hand.

Wes Ikeda: Hey, Blaine?

Blaine Ikeda: Hey, Dad?

Wes Ikeda: I'm proud of you. I'll see you out there.

Blaine's eyes lit up a little bit, the funk leaving him, and he nodded. Wes left the room, and Blaine turned back to the table. Randy on his right. Nattie on his left. Jericho in front of him, leaning on the table.

Chris Jericho: I think I like the blue.

Blaine Ikeda: Yeah? Me too.

Natalie picked up Wes' boots and began to unlace them.

Randy Orton: Okay, so your music hits. Then what? What's the entrance?

And so that was the early evening, with Chris, Randy and Nattie putting Blaine through the paces and talking about everything he loved about the sport. When the time came, and he'd been left alone to suit up, and sit down to lace up his father's boots, Blaine contemplated how he got here. It was sheer force of will. Wes had never wanted Blaine to walk in his shoes, literally or figuratively. Wes had only ever wanted the very best of everything for his son. Blaine thought of it in terms of a popular meme. Wes had walked so Blaine could run, and the field had just busted wide open. He wasn't going to let anything stop him now.
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D.J
Posts: 430
Joined: Tue Feb 21, 2012 9:53 pm

Re: The Progeny

Post by D.J »

Your RP's when you get in this mode are like a good movie. I always forget what I'm doing until it ends and I'm just like holy shit that was good.

Great job GOAT.
THE MIZ

EBWF World Champion (x7- Current) EBWF Intercontinental Champion (x3) EBWF Tag Team Champion (x2) EBWF PTG Champion (x2 ) EBWF Gateway Champion (1x)