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Trios Tournament 2025 Finals - Konrad Raab - 10-28-2025
James Evans, Enigma & Gina Glimmer vs. Clyde Sutter, Melinda Braddock & Alex Belmont
2 RP per character (max 6 per team)
3500 Word Per RP
Deadline: 11:59:59 pm Saturday, November 1, 2025
RE: Trios Tournament 2025 Finals - The Assassin - 10-28-2025
1 of 4
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October 23rd, 2025
Pittsburg, PA
Off Camera
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Breakdown has recently concluded, the last stop before Under Attack. Clyde Sutter and Melinda Braddock can now turn their attention to their real prize; The Trios Tournament Finals. The Assassin and The Third Generation Goddess have been convinced that Fate is on their side and that Fate has prepared this Trios Tournament specifically for their inevitable victory. The draw for the teams landed the two of them on the same Trios Team. They managed to work together with Alex Belmont of the Shinigami Foundation to get through the quarter finals and semi-finals. Fate has truly been at their back, pushing them through, giving them every ounce of momentum necessary. It almost seems academic that the Trios Tournament victory will be theirs, that they will defeat James Evans, The Enigma, and Gina Glimmer to earn those valuable Trios Contracts.
The noise of the crowd was still echoing faintly through the walls of the PPG Paints Arena, a steady, muffled roar that rose and fell like the tide. Backstage, the atmosphere was its own separate world, bright lights, the whir of ventilation fans, the smell of sweat, fabric, and disinfectant hanging in the air. Crew members hurried past with headsets and clipboards, their sneakers squeaking against the concrete floors, while a few wrestlers lingered at the catering table, their laughter echoing down the narrow hallway. Somewhere in the distance, a production cart rattled by, a reminder that the show never truly stopped moving even after the cameras did. Clyde Sutter stood a few paces from the chaos, hands tucked into the pockets of his dark jeans, shoulders squared beneath a fitted black jacket. He looked every bit the stoic imposing figure; silent, composed, and slightly removed from everything around him. His long black hair hung loosely, still damp from a quick rinse after the night’s match, framing a face that revealed nothing of what he might have been thinking. The overhead lights gave his eyes a dull gleam, and though his expression was neutral, there was a quiet intensity to the way he scanned the room, as if his thoughts were working several layers deeper than the conversation around him.
A few steps away, Melinda Braddock leaned casually against a crate near the corridor wall, scrolling through her phone between glances toward the monitors showing the replay feed. Her blonde hair was pulled back neatly, strands catching the fluorescent light every time she tilted her head. She was still in her wrestling gear; an elegant blend of gold and ivory that shimmered faintly under the harsh lighting, accented with sleek boots that carried both style and purpose. Her gear, much like her personality, balanced grace with strength; every detail intentional, from the subtle sparkle in the fabric to the perfectly tailored fit. There was an ease in her posture tonight, the kind that only came after a performance that went exactly as planned. Her lips curved into a faint, self assured smile, the kind that came not from arrogance but from satisfaction. Beside her, Fiona Logan radiated a very different energy, vibrant, kinetic, impossible to contain. She was still pacing slightly, unable to sit still, her dark hair pulled into a loose ponytail that swayed with each movement. Her gear was darker and more rugged; black and crimson with metallic accents, reflecting her edgier style and no nonsense attitude. Sweat still glistened faintly on her arms and collarbone, the afterglow of adrenaline not yet faded. Every so often she stretched her shoulders, rolled her neck, or tapped her boot impatiently against the floor, unable to completely come down from the high of competition. But despite her restlessness, she was smiling, a broad, genuine expression that lit her entire face.
Behind them, the hum of production continued. Voices over radios, the thump of crates being stacked, the faint crackle of a headset. A light flickered in the far corner, buzzing faintly before steadying again. The floor was littered with the evidence of the night’s chaos: discarded tape, a few towels, a half-empty water bottle. Somewhere nearby, someone laughed too loudly, and the echo of it bounced down the corridor, briefly piercing the quiet bubble surrounding the trio. Melinda finally straightened from her relaxed perch, smoothing an invisible wrinkle on her ring gear, her expression turning thoughtful as her gaze drifted toward Clyde. He didn’t react, just continued watching the corridor ahead, his expression unreadable. Fiona caught the moment out of the corner of her eye and smirked faintly, crossing her arms as she leaned back against the wall beside Melinda. The faint thud of her boot against the concrete punctuated the silence, casual and rhythmic.
“Tonight certainly was eventful.” Sutter remarks calmly.
“Eventful is one way to put it.” Melinda states. “But tonight doesn’t matter, because now we have to move our attention away from the tag team division to a far bigger prize.”
“Trios?” Clyde asks. Melinda nods her head. She approaches him. Sutter bends over and kisses her on the lips. She smirks knowingly.
“We made it through the first two rounds. As long as we can continue to work with Alex Belmont like the well-oiled machine we have been so far, those Trios Contracts will be as good as ours.”
“Be cautious, my love.” Sutter answers. “Mr. Evans, Enigma, and Ms. Glimmer are not to be underestimated.”
“Believe me, Clyde, I know how dangerous Evans and Enigma can be. But I also know how dangerous YOU can be.” She smirks. “As far as the Glimmer girls, go, she and her sister have something me and Fiona want…the SCW World Tag Team Championship. It will be good to get my hands on Gina and show her, and Gia, what they expect when The Vision finally decides to TAKE those tag team championships.” Melinda holds up two fingers. “And TWO Trios Contracts gives us the power to do just that!” She motions to Fiona. “I can use my Trios to give me and you the opportunity to win those titles.”
“One opportunity is all we need.” Fiona states bluntly. “We’ll punt those circus clowns in the ass.”
“Agreed.” Melinda nods her head. “Then Clyde’s Trios can be used to give us singles title opportunities! Or, in the unlikely event The Glimmers survive The Vision, we can use Clyde’s Trios to give us a second chance to become champions!” Melinda turns her attention back to the imposing Sutter, smiling lovingly at him. “Because you will use your Trios Contract how I want you to use it, right love?”
“Of course, my love.” Clyde says warmly. “What’s mine is yours. My Trios Contract shall be yours.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.” Clyde and Melinda kiss romantically. Meanwhile, Fiona Logan feigns gagging.
“Blegh! Get a room you two!”
“Sorry.” Melinda says, chuckling to herself. “I forgot how you hate love.”
“I don’t hate love, Mels.” Fiona retorts. “I just have other things on my mind right now, y’know, like cracking skulls open and kicking ass. Hell, you two get to be on Under Attack and I have to sit on the sidelines and play cheerleader.” Fiona sneers. “I hate cheerleaders.”
“Don’t worry, sis, Clyde and I will kick plenty of ass on your behalf.”
“Speaking of having your mind elsewhere,” Clyde shoots Fiona a knowing gaze as his voice trails off. Fiona knows exactly where this is going and she instantly shakes her head.
“Yeah, sorry big guy, but I’d rather not talk about that.”
“It would be wise to address the matter now, clear your mind of this distraction now.” Clyde retorts. Melinda nods her head in agreement.
“Clyde is right. We have big things on the horizon, Fiona. We already are on the fast track to a tag team title opportunity. If Clyde, Belmont, and I can win Trios, then we’ll be fast tracked. We need to be ready and you cannot be distracted. Besides, you might have a stalker. That is dangerous.”
“Hopefully it’s just an annoying fan.” Fiona says.
“Regardless of who or what this is, you need to handle it and handle it soon.” Clyde states firmly.
“Then you tell me, big guy, how have YOU been dealing with your own creepy stalker?” The Boston Badass folds her arms over her chest and stares down The Assassin. Sutter nods his head.
“Yes, my situation is indeed quite similar to yours. The difference between you and I is that I have managed to compartmentalize it. I have managed to ensure that my problem is not a distraction. When I walk through the doors of whatever arena SCW sends us to, I can push my problem to the back of my mind and focus on what is important.”
“That’s great, big guy, it really is, and I’m happy you can do that, but I wasn’t raised in this business like Mels.” She points a finger at Clyde. “So tell me, how do I push it all to the back of my mind? How do I forget when I know there’s some creepo, stalker or fan or whatever, coming after me?”
“It is difficult.” Sutter says quietly. Melinda pats him on the back. “Knowing that there is someone out there who is targeting me, and might even come after those I care the most about, that is very troubling. But as I said, I compartmentalize. In the squared circle I focus on that business. When the wrestling has finished and I go back home, that is when I focus my efforts and energies on trying to track down this person who has been targeting me.” A cold grin forms on his face. “As a matter of fact, I believe I know who is targeting me.”
“Really?” Melinda asks, arching her brow out of curiosity. Sutter nods his head.
“Indeed. And Fiona provided the direction.”
“What’d I say that helped so much?” Fiona asks curiously.
“You mentioned that the individual targeting me, the person stalking me, could be someone close to me, someone I would least suspect.” Sutter smirks. “Joey.”
“Of course!” Fiona exclaims for a brief moment before shaking her head. “Wait, who the hell is Joey?!”
“Joey is Clyde’s friend from childhood.” Melinda answers. She turns her attention to The Assassin. “Are you serious? Joey?”
“Unfortunately I am serious, very serious.”
“But it doesn’t make sense!” Melinda exclaims.
“No, it doesn’t make sense, but if you look at the evidence it all seems to point to him. He is the only person who had the ability to do all of this. Remember the one event that started this? The ransacking of my Charlotte apartment? He is the only one, other than myself and Mason Van Stanton, who had access and Mason can be accounted for.”
“It’s just circumstantial evidence.” Melinda shakes her head. “Joey has no motive to hurt you. You two have been friends forever.”
“I know.” Sutter nods his head. “But I will confront him and I will find out if he is telling the truth one way or another.”
“Just be careful.” Melinda says cautiously. “And do not lose your temper with him.”
“You have my word, my beloved.” He says with a warm, protective smile. “I will be careful.”
“And what about the whole ‘losing your temper’ part?” Fiona asks with a smirk.
“I make no promises.”
“Look, we’re getting off track here.” Melinda takes her iPhone and quickly hands it over to Fiona. “Let’s turn our attention away from such negativity and to something far more positive, like our pending Trios victory.”
“You sound very confident.” Fiona snickers. “What do you want me to do with this, though?”
“Just record us.” Braddock looks up at Clyde, smirking. “Ready?”
“Always.”
==========
On Camera
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“Fate reached out and took me up from the darkness, from the grip of an uncontrollable age and into the light of truth, into controlled chaos that is Fate’s perfect will. Fate blessed me with a second chance at a professional wrestling career. Fate blessed me with my beloved.” Sutter gazes down at Melinda and plants a kiss on her forehead. He looks back at the camera and sneers. “Fate has done many a wondrous thing for me, so of course I have always been loyal to Fate. I preached Fate and I fight for its will. I have been often mocked and ridiculed for my belief in Fate. My beloved and I told you, we told each and every single one of you that Fate had already written the endgame for the 2025 Trios Tournament and that it would end with The Vision holding TWO of the powerful Trios Contracts. Did anyone listen to us? Did anyone heed our warnings?” The Assassin shakes his head.
“No, you chose to ignore the warnings. Yet look at what has transpired…do you think that it was happenstance that I got put on the same team as my beloved Melinda Braddock?”
“Nope!” Melinda says, shaking her head.
“Do you honestly believe that it was sheer luck that our quarter final opponents was a threesome that not only hated each other, but also included one individual who wanted to hog all the glory to herself and another who didn’t even want to participate in the tournament in the first place? Was that luck?”
“Not a chance.” Melinda snickers.
“Was it just just a mere fluke that when Mr. Cannon went for C4 that I managed to get my boot up and drive it into his skull, knocking him and his team out of the tournament semi-finals? And is it a fluke that myself, my beloved, and Mr. Belmont not only operate as a well-oiled machine, but we now find ourselves in the finals of the Trios Tournament just as we predicted? Is all of this mere happenstance, luck, or a fluke?” He gazes down at Melinda who shakes her head.
“No, it isn’t. It is Fate and you should all start believing in Fate because Fate has written the script for this Trios Tournament and everything has gone according to its perfect plan. If you are not yet a believer in Fate you should start believing because Fate is in control. Fate will not be denied. The Third Generation Goddess and The Assassin, along with Alex Belmont, we have made it to the finals, we have made it to Under Attack, and we have just one final obstacle in our way before we can claim those Trios Contracts as ours.” Braddock has a smug look on her face, full of nothing but confidence.
“I get it, I understand what you are all thinking. I know what all of the doubters and non-believers are saying right now; our path ends here. Just look at our competition…James Evans, a former world champion. The Enigma, the reigning Underground champion. Gina Glimmer, one half of the reigning world tag team champions. That team truly is star studded and I will be the first to admit that, under any normal circumstance and against any other team, perhaps those three would be the winners. Any other year, that team would be an odds on favorite to win the whole tournament. So am I surprised to see them across the ring from us in the finals? She shakes her head. “No, I’m not surprised. Then again, why should I be surprised? This is exactly how Fate had planned it. Fate wanted this match to be the finals. Fate wanted the six of us to reach the finals.” She chuckles. “Unfortunately, James, Gina, Enigma, Fate has now but one purpose for you and that is to lose to us.”
“It is a perfect storm, too perfect to attribute it to anything but Fate.” The Assassin chimes in. “James Evans, a member of the Fall of Man whom I once worked for. The seemingly unstoppable Enigma, the newest monster of SCW. I, myself, am a bit of a monster. But the biggest irony of them all is you, Ms. Glimmer. My beloved and her sister want to be SCW World Tag Team Champions. And of course I will do anything to make sure that my beloved gets what she wants. Our tag team partner in Trios, Mr. Belmont, wants to bring the SCW World Tag Team Championships back to the Shinigami Foundation. All three of us have our reasons for targeting you, Ms. Glimmer. Us winning Trios this year would be your worst nightmare, because that would be at the very least two Trios Contracts…possibly all three…used against YOU!” He laughs nastily. “And you think that this tournament was by chance? Fate is clearly in control.”
“My mother won her first two Trios Tournaments, back to back years. The Braddock name is synonymous with this tournament. Now here I am, in my first Trios Tournament and I am in the finals. Is that just luck of the draw?” Braddock shakes her head. “Fate is at play here, boys and girls, and in case you haven’t figured it out, in case you have been ignoring the signs, Fate has dictated that Alex Belmont, The Assassin, and The Third Generation Goddess will win the 2025 Trios Tournament at Under Attack.” She laughs softly. “And all the power that goes with it will belong to us.”
“The first time in this promotion’s history TWO Trios Contracts will be controlled by the same entity…The Vision. This will make us the single most powerful and influential group in SCW today. We will have the power to book not one but TWO matches, any two matches that we want. Fate has gifted us this power but you refuse to believe.” The Assassin sneers. “We will make believers out of all of you come Under Attack because your Fate is sealed.”
RE: Trios Tournament 2025 Finals - The Assassin - 10-30-2025
2 of 4
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October 25th, 2025
Miami, Florida
Off Camera
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SCW Under Attack is almost a week away and Clyde Sutter, along with his lovely future bride Melinda Braddock, find themselves in the finals along with their tag partner Alex Belmont. Sutter and Braddock were not surprised in the slightest that they made it to the finals. After all, it was Fate that put them there. Sutter and Braddock have placed their trust in Fate’s grand plan. They trust that Fate knows what is best and that, through Fate, they will succeed. Sutter and Braddock are all but certain that those Trios Tournament contracts, and ultimate power within SCW, is all but theirs for the taking, and that the trio of James Evans, The Monster Machine, and Gina Glimmer, despite the impressiveness of their team, cannot stop them. Melinda is so certain of victory that she is already spending time with her sister, Fiona Logan, plotting ways to use these contracts.
The Assassin, however, has a different plan for this evening. He cannot focus on the Trios Tournament finals until he gets one particularly annoy problem off of his mind; namely the friend who recently betrayed him…Joey. Sutter learned that it was his childhood friend who likely was behind everything; the stalking, the ransacking of the Charlotte apartment, everything. What Clyde doesn’t understand is why? Tonight he intends to force a confession and then find out what Joey’s motivation was…by any means necessary. But first he has to get Joey lured into a false sense of security and what better place to do that than at a bar? Joey, after all, loves to drink.
The bar was the kind of place that didn’t advertise itself, it was a dim, narrow room tucked between a Cuban café and a pawn shop on a side street. The neon sign above the door flickered faintly. Inside, the air was heavy and slow, scented with lime, tobacco, and the lingering ghosts of cheap rum. Ceiling fans rotated lazily overhead, pushing warm air around rather than cooling it. A jukebox in the corner murmured an old blues song that had been playing so long it felt like part of the building. Clyde Sutter sat at the far end of the bar, elbows braced on the worn mahogany counter. His drink, a glass of dark rum with a single ice cube, caught the dim light and glowed like amber in front of him. The man himself was as composed as ever, though the Florida heat had left a sheen along his jaw and the back of his neck. His long black hair, loosely tied, brushed against the shoulders of his shirt. He looked out of place among the tired fishermen, night laborers, and drifting regulars who occupied the stools and tables, yet no one seemed inclined to stare. There was something about him, the way he sat too straight, too still, that discouraged attention. Beside him was his longtime friend and companion, Joey, who was hunched over his own drink, a sweating bottle of beer that he hadn’t touched in several minutes. He was smaller, wirier, his face more lined than his age should allow. His shirt clung to his back, the humidity unforgiving even in the shade. He watched the condensation roll down the glass, gathering into a small ring on the counter before wiping it away with his thumb. He looked like a man trying to scrub away a thought.
Outside, the late evening had deepened into the thick, humming darkness of a Miami night. The sound of the city bled faintly through the cracked windows: car horns in the distance, laughter echoing down alleys, the faint crash of waves a few blocks away. Inside, the lighting was a soft, uneven glow from hanging lamps that swung gently whenever the door opened. Sutter’s eyes traced the mirrors behind the bar. They were old, speckled with age, reflecting fragmented glimpses of the patrons; a shifting mosaic of faces and half-seen gestures. The muted TV above the counter showed highlights from a baseball game, the colors washed out in the low light. The bartender’s movements were rhythmic: pour, wipe, rinse, repeat. It was a place where time didn’t quite matter, where minutes slid past without notice. Joey finally took a slow sip of his beer, then set it down and stared across the room. In one of the booths near the entrance, a small group of men played cards. Their laughter came in low bursts, the kind that carried more edge than humor. Smoke from their cigars drifted upward in lazy spirals, caught briefly in the glow of the overhead light before dissolving into the gloom. The air tasted faintly of salt and old wood.
“Thanks for the night out, Clyde!” Joey exclaims. He is happy, happier than Sutter has ever seen him. That in and of itself is suspicious for someone who was once convinced Sutter’s sister was out to get him, a man who had begged The Assassin for protection. Joey now seems completely at ease. In fact, Joey is of the belief that tonight is all about a celebration of their friendship.
“Of course. You did help me with my sister and I appreciate that.” Clyde remarks. “You put yourself in considerable danger.”
“Eh, don’t mention it, mate.” Joey answers. “You’d do the same for me!”
“Indeed.” Clyde shifted slightly, the leather of his chair creaking beneath him. His gaze moved briefly toward the door, instinctive, calculating, then back to the bar. He reached for his drink again, the ice already melted, and took a measured sip.
“It’s what friends do, right? I did you a solid by helping you with that crazy sister of yours. When she came at me, you did me a solid by protecting me. I appreciate it, Clyde.”
“I’m sure you do, my friend.”
Sutter’s voice is deceptive. This isn’t a celebration of friendship as Joey seems to think. Sutter didn’t bring him here to thank him for helping him with his sister Lilith Sutter and the problems she has caused. The Assassin himself has been a target of a strange stalker and he suspects that Joey might be the mastermind behind it all. The question is why, and Clyde intends to get some answers tonight. Behind the bar, the bartender glanced their way, as if he could sense the gravity hanging around the two men. He poured another rum without being asked, slid it silently toward Clyde, then moved on to another customer.
“So, what are you thinking about?” Joey asks.
“Under Attack. The Trios Tournament. What else?”
“Ah yeah, the wrestling thing.” Joey smirks. “You and your girl will be fine as long as that other bloke holds up his end of the deal. Hell, even if he doesn’t I think you and Melinda could probably take it on your own.”
“Mr. Belmont will hold up his end of the bargain.” Sutter declares with confidence. He sips his rum again before setting it back on the bar. He motions to Joey. “Come.”
“What?” Joey seems confused. “I still got to finish my beer.”
“Then bring it with you.”
“I don’t want to go out there.” Joey insists. “I’d rather stay here.”
“Just come with me.” Sutter demands, the taller man growing more impatient.
“Why?”
“I have information about who might have ransacked my apartment.” Clyde says. “Who might be coming after you.”
“Oh, well why didn’t ya just lead with that, mate?” Joey takes one final swig of his beer. “Let’s go!”
The two men rose from their stools without ceremony, the legs of the bar chairs scraping softly against the worn wooden floor. Neither said a word as Clyde placed a few bills beside his glass, folded neatly, precise as everything he did. The bartender gave a curt nod, as if recognizing something unspoken in the gesture, and turned away to rinse another glass. The warm, heavy air hit them the instant they stepped outside. The door swung shut behind them, cutting off the low hum of jazz and conversation, leaving only the thick pulse of the Miami night. The street was quieter than it had been earlier, though the city never truly slept. Sodium lamps cast puddles of amber light along the cracked sidewalk, and the distant wail of a siren stretched thin through the humid darkness.
Clyde started walking, long strides deliberate and unhurried. Joey followed a step behind, shoulders hunched, glancing around as if expecting someone to call them back. The night pressed close around them. They turned a corner and left the main road behind, stepping into one of the narrow arteries that threaded between the city’s older buildings. The alley was a different world entirely, but not unfamiliar to men like Clyde and Joey; darker, quieter, and cloaked in the scent of damp concrete and old garbage. A flickering light above a rusted service door sputtered weakly, painting the brick walls in flashes of sickly yellow. Water dripped somewhere unseen, rhythmic and patient.
The deeper they went, the quieter it became. Clyde stopped at the mouth of a crossway, a narrow split between two aging warehouses, where the light failed completely beyond a few feet. He stood still, shoulders squared, head slightly tilted as if listening. His posture was calm, but there was something about it; something deliberate, coiled, ready. Joey hesitated a few steps behind, glancing back toward the faint glow of the main street, then forward again to the dark passage where Clyde waited. He could tell that something was off but he seems to know that it is too late to back out now.
“Hey, uh, Clyde, man, what are we doing out here?”
“I told you, I have information about who is stalking you.” A knowing grin forms on the face of The Assassin. “Or to be more precise, the person stalking me.”
“Huh?” Joey furrows his brow. “What do ya mean?”
“My beloved and her sister brought up a very valid point, one that I overlooked. Oftentimes the one responsible for the crimes against us are the people we least expect.”
“Still not following.” Joey shakes his head.
“Oh I think you are following along exceptionally well, my friend.” Clyde approaches Joey menacingly. Joey, feeling more and more nervous with each passing second, backs away until he can back no further, until he is against a wall. “I think you are behind everything.”
“What?!”
“You ransacked the apartment yourself just to send me off on a wild goose chase.”
“What?! Why would I do that?!” Joey shakes his head. “You’re talking crazy!”
Clyde Sutter does not appreciate being lied to and he also doesn’t appreciate being told he was crazy. The Assassin quickly knees him in the gut, doubling him over in pain. Clyde picks him back up and roughly throws him up against the wall, holding him there, his feet dangling in the air and Joey’s face one of sheer fear and terror. Despite Sutter’s physical violence, his voice and demeanor still are eerily calm.
“Make it easier on yourself and admit it.”
“I didn’t!” Joey shakes his head. “I swear!”
The Assassin throws Joey into the side of a green dumpster. Clyde waits patiently as Joey pushes himself up, first to his hands and knees and then back to his feet. Sutter punches him in the face, dropping Joey back to the ground. Joey is still conscious but Sutter could have knocked him cold if he had wanted to, but Clyde held back. He wants Joey awake so he can interrogate him some more. Sutter bends over, grabs Joey by his shirt and neck, and pulls him back up to his feet. He slams him up against another wall.
“This is your last chance, my friend.” Clyde’s voice remains eerily calm and soothing despite the violence and rage. “Tell the truth and make it easier on yourself.”
“F…f…fine!” Joey stammers. “Just put me down!”
The Assassin grins, a sense of victory forms across his face. He nods his head and gently puts Joey back down onto his feet. He gently dusts him off. Then he places a hand on Joey’s shoulder, as if to remind him not to attempt a hasty retreat.
“Now. The truth.”
“Ok, I admit, I ransacked the apartment. I faked it all. I lied to you about being stalked. You’re absolutely right, I just sent you running chasing after a non-existent stalker.”
“See? Was that hard?” Clyde asks with a smug look on his face. “Now tell me…why?”
“Look, your sister’s…people…they tracked me down. They found me…”
“Of course Lilith is behind this.” Clyde remarks, a look of frustration forming on his face.
“They needed my help and they were willing to pay me a ton of money to help.”
“So you took her blood money?”
“It was that or get killed right then and there!” Joey exclaims. “What was I supposed to do?!”
The Assassin is furious that his longtime friend helped this woman, this monster who claims to be his sister. Still, she is a criminal, and she would not hesitate to tell her men to kill Joey. He cannot actually blame him for giving in so easily. It isn’t as if Joey is a brave individual in the first place.
“What exactly did you help them do?”
“Well…” Joey sighs and braces himself for what he assumes will be another anger fueled reaction from The Assassin “...while you were off running around trying to find this non-existent stalker, I helped them manufacture evidence that cleared your sister of the murder charge of Archie Van Stanton.”
“What?!” Sutter’s calm demeanor has completely gone. He is furious. Joey backs away in fear.
“Yeah…she…she could leave Russia any time she wants…she could return anytime now…” before Joey can say another word, Sutter grabs him by his throat.
“Do you have any idea what you did?!”
“What’s the big deal?!” Joey exclaims. “Hell, she just wanted to work with you. That’s what she asked of you, right? Why didn’t you just agree to work with her? She is your sister. She’s family.”
“She’s a criminal!”
“So are we!” Joey insists. “We both lived that life!”
“I have changed.” Clyde releases Joey. “You clearly have not changed. And if you truly believe that I would consider working with the woman responsible for the death of Archie Van Stanton, my beloved’s first love, a man she once cared about deeply, then you are indeed stupid.”
“Clyde…”
“Go!” Sutter shouts angrily. “Go and return to England. You are not welcome here any longer.”
Clyde Sutter watches as Joey runs, or more accurately staggers, away, trying to put as much distance between him and The Assassin as possible. The fear in Joey’s eyes is clear; he knows he messed up by crossing Sutter. But what he doesn’t realize is the real mental and emotional hurt he put on Sutter.
The Harbinger of Fate places his trust in a very select few people. He wouldn’t even trust his own Trios Tournament tag partner Alex Belmont were it not for the fact that Sutter’s own girlfriend and fiance, Melinda Braddock, was also on the team and assured him that this would work out. Clyde’s strong and firm belief in Fate also helped him to trust the process, trust that Fate has big plans for this Trios team and, so far, those plans have come to fruition. It has led them to the finals. This trust has propelled them to where he now wants to be. Joey had once been among the select few to have Sutter’s trust. Now that trust is gone. The Assassin is now hurting but that hurt will soon turn to rage, a rage that he will channel and direct at his opponents and any who stand in his way.
RE: Trios Tournament 2025 Finals - The Assassin - 10-31-2025
3 of 4
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October 26th, 2025
Miami, Florida
Off Camera
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The night air outside was still and warm, the only sounds came from the faint hum of the air conditioning and the soft crackle from the modern fireplace inset into a white marble wall. The living room, open and expansive, was bathed in a low golden glow from recessed lights and the flicker of the flames. Expensive without being gaudy, every surface spoke of careful taste: cream-colored leather furniture, polished floors, sleek glass accents, and framed photographs of victories, travels, and memories lining the walls. Yet, despite its beauty, the air inside felt heavy. Something in the atmosphere had shifted, something subtle but unmistakably tense. Clyde Sutter sat forward on the edge of the long sectional sofa, his elbows on his knees, his large hands clasped tightly together. His knuckles were pale, strained from the pressure, and a deep crease had formed across his brow. The muscles in his jaw flexed rhythmically, betraying the emotion he was struggling to contain. He was dressed very simply in just a simple black T-shirt and dark jeans, but somehow that only made him seem more imposing, more raw. His long black hair hung loose, brushing against his neck, slightly disheveled from his restless movements. He stared at the floor as though it held answers he couldn’t find, his breathing shallow but deliberate. The usual calm, measured presence that defined him was gone; in its place was something colder, sharper; anger mixed with frustration, and beneath it, something deeper still. Hurt.
Across from him, on a cream leather chair angled toward the sofa, Melinda Braddock watched him carefully. Her posture was straight but not rigid, her body leaning slightly forward as if ready to move if he suddenly needed her. The soft, golden light caught the shimmer of her blonde hair as it fell loosely over her shoulders, and her eyes, usually so poised and confident, now carried a flicker of unease. She wore a simple yet elegant outfit, a fitted white blouse tucked into a knee length black skirt, the kind of effortless ensemble that spoke to her natural sense of composure. But tonight, her expression betrayed that calm. Her brow furrowed faintly as she studied Clyde, her lips parting slightly as if to speak before she stopped herself. Every instinct in her wanted to fix what was wrong, to reach out and ground him, but she knew him well enough to know that forcing calm upon him would only make it worse. So she waited, patient and anxious, the weight of her concern visible in her eyes. Seated beside Melinda on the edge of the same chair, Fiona Logan looked from one to the other, her expression somewhere between worry and frustration. She had shed her usual rough edged exterior tonight, dressed in a casual tank top and dark jeans, though her posture, arms crossed loosely over her stomach, one leg bouncing faintly, betrayed her own unease. Her dark hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, and though her face was calm, her eyes carried a restless flicker, mirroring Clyde’s agitation in a more contained form. Fiona wasn’t good at sitting still when things felt wrong. She could feel the energy radiating off Clyde from where she sat, the anger he was trying to contain, the storm building just beneath the surface, and it unsettled her.
The room, beautiful as it was, seemed to absorb the silence like a sponge. The muted sounds of the ocean outside were distant, muffled by the thick glass windows that framed the city view. The faint smell of sandalwood from the fireplace lingered in the air, mixing with the crisp scent of Melinda’s perfume and the faint tang of leather from the furniture. The Assassin shifted suddenly, leaning back against the sofa, his movements taut and deliberate. His chest rose and fell sharply, his jaw tightening again as his fingers dragged through his hair. Melinda’s eyes followed the motion closely, reading him like only she could, every small sign, every twitch of restraint. She exchanged a brief glance with Fiona, a silent acknowledgment that whatever was brewing inside Clyde wasn’t just a fleeting bad mood. There was something deeper eating at him. The digital clock on the glass coffee table ticked softly, its red numbers glowing against the dark. Fiona exhaled slowly through her nose, uncrossing her arms as if preparing herself to intervene. She leaned forward slightly, elbows on her knees, mirroring Clyde’s posture in a way that seemed almost instinctive; an unspoken signal of understanding, of shared ground. Her gaze softened for a brief moment, though her expression remained guarded.
Melinda’s hand rested against her thigh, fingers tapping absently against the fabric of her skirt. She wanted to speak, every fiber of her wanted to, but she knew the risk of saying the wrong thing when emotions ran this deep. The silence between them was fragile, brittle as glass. The fire crackled softly in the background, its glow reflecting off the polished surfaces and catching in Clyde’s dark eyes, giving them a flicker of restless light. Fiona finally glanced at Melinda again, and this time there was no mistaking the concern etched across both their faces. Outside, a soft rumble of thunder rolled somewhere in the distance over the water, low and lingering. The lights from the city skyline shimmered faintly across the glass wall behind them, the reflections dancing across the marble floor.
“Clyde, babe, you need to calm down.” Melinda says quietly, carefully, hoping not to trigger her future husband who she knows is upset right now.
“I was foolish!” He exclaims loudly. “I was foolish and careless!”
“No, you weren’t.” Melinda shakes her head. “Joey was your friend, it was natural for you to trust him.”
“Trust no one!” He exclaims angrily. “That’s what I learned on the streets and it the rule I should have stuck with!” He insists. “But I trusted him. I allowed myself to believe that he would not betray me.” The Assassin shakes his head. “Now, thanks to my so-called friend, my sister is going to return to the United States…if she isn’t here already…”
“You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Of course I did something wrong.” Sutter shakes his head. “I was wrong in the sense that I should have seen this coming. In fact, I DID see this coming!”
“What do you mean?” Melinda asks.
“I spoke to my sister!” He exclaims. “She was the first person I accused when I learned of my Charlotte apartment being ransacked. I accused her of being behind it, that this was some plot of hers. Yet somehow Lilith managed to convince me to look elsewhere. I was dumb enough to fall for her ploy, just I was dumb enough to trust Joey.”
“It’s ok, Clyde,” Melinda says “it will all work out in the end, trust me.”
“NO!”
Sutter shouts angrily. He stands up and starts pacing the floor like a caged lion. This rage, this shouting isn’t new to Melinda. She has heard it before but it has been a long time since she has seen this rage fueled side of The Assassin. It has been years since she has seen this side of him and it frightens her a little. The Assassin can tell that, in his rage, he has upset his beloved, he has scared the woman he cares for the most. He stops his pacing and turns to face Melinda. He shakes his head with a look of sorrow on his face.
“I’m sorry, my love.” He begins quietly. “I did not mean to frighten you. I assure you that I am not angry with you, I am angry with myself.”
“Sit down.” Melinda says commandingly, patting the seat next to her. Clyde sighs and nods his head. He sits down next to Melinda. She gazes lovingly into his eyes. “Everything will be fine.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because we have each other.” Melinda insists. “Besides, even if and when Lilith makes her return to the United States, the authorities will be looking at her even closer now. Just because she is temporarily off the hook for the murder charge doesn’t mean the dark cloud of suspicion goes away. The feds know that she is involved in organized crime. They will be targeting her, looking for any excuse to arrest her.”
“Yeah, didn’t Al Capone get arrested for tax evasion?” Fiona chimes in. Melinda nods her head.
“Exactly. They’ll find a reason to take down your sister.” Melinda insists. “Just trust the system.”
“Perhaps…” his voice trails off as he thinks it over, but then he shakes his head “...but justice was not done.”
“But Clyde…”
“No. Justice was not done. If the system worked then she would be in prison.” He points at Melinda. “She is responsible for Archie’s death, your former boyfriend. That shooting nearly killed you too. My sister should be in prison for this hired hit.”
“Y’know, big guy, I hate to be the one to say this seeing as I once poo-poo’d the notion, but wasn’t it YOU who suggested that I should compartmentalize?” Fiona pipes in. Clyde sighs and nods his head.
“Yes, I did say that, but…”
“Nuh-uh, big guy, if that advice is good for me, it’s good for you too. Compartmentalize. Do not let this crap become your obsession. Let the authorities deal with your prick of a sister. Don’t you and Mels here have other things to concern yourself with?”
“She’s right!” Melinda exclaims, taking this opportunity to try and hopefully change the subject and get her man’s mind off of his psychotic sister’s imminent return. “Under Attack is basically a week away. It is the finals of the Trios Tournament, Clyde. You. Me. Belmont. We are one win away from having so much damn power in SCW. Ultimate power.”
“Quit quoting Palpatine.” Fiona retorts with a snarky grin. Melinda rolls her eyes.
“If we win, we have not one but TWO Trios Contracts between the two of us. We can OWN SCW with that kind of power. But we have to get past James Evans, The Monster Machine, and Glimmer to do it.” She pats Sutter on the back. “We need you to be focused, Clyde. I need you.” She takes him by his hand and clasps it tightly. They lock eyes. Sutter can sense it, she is pleading with him to come down off of this ledge he is seemingly on.
It is at that moment that the reality of the situation begins to sink in. Rage and hatred drove Melinda Braddock away from him once. The Assassin fought long and hard to control that rage, to end that hatred, and ultimately he won Melinda back into his loving arms. Now, thanks to Lilith Sutter and her plotting and scheming, he has nearly lost control. His rage boiled over and that hatred, he can feel it again. The Assassin knows that by allowing himself to hate, that allowing himself to feel this rage towards his sister, that he is merely playing into Lilith’s hand. Lilith Sutter wants to tear them apart. The Assassin cannot and will not let that happen. Ultimately Fiona is right, he does need to take his own advice and compartmentalize.
“Yes, you are correct…” he nods his head “...and you can rest assured that you and Mr. Belmont can count on me. We will be victorious at Under Attack. My eyes are on the prize.”
“Good.” Melinda nods her head. “That’s what I needed to hear.”
“And you are correct as well, Fiona.” Clyde turns his attention to Melinda’s adopted sister and tag team partner, who instantly arches her brow out of curiosity.
“Huh? What’d I say?”
“I do need to take my own advice and compartmentalize.” He answers. “Yes, Under Attack is important. Trios is important. But taking care of this situation with my sister is also important. It needs to be taken care of.”
“Agreed. Just not now.” Melinda says.
“Not now…but I will take care of this after Under Attack.”
“What exactly do you have in mind?” That note of concern once again enters Melinda’s voice. She knows that her man has an idea, she just isn’t sure what it is.
“My sister, she…” he sighs “...she invited me to see her, to visit with her, when she returns to America. I may take her up on that offer.”
“Wait, what?!” Melinda exclaims.
“Uh, not sure that’s a good idea, big guy.” Fiona says, shaking her head.
“What choice do I have?” Clyde asks. “She will continue to harass me, to harass us. This needs to be taken care of. I need to convince her that there is nothing she can say or do to ever get me to join her.”
“Fine,” Melinda sighs and shakes her head “but I don’t have to like it.”
“No, you don’t, but dealing with my sister is a necessary evil.” Sutter smiles warmly at Melinda. “Do not worry about that just yet, my beloved. We have one other minor inconvenience to take care of first.”
“Yeah, Trios.” Fiona points.
“That is NOT a minor inconvenience.” Melinda states boldly. “We need to win that.”
“Indeed, and we shall.” Sutter remarks calmly, stoically. “But we do have another minor issue to handle. You and I should return to Charlotte and finally clean up the mess Joey left behind.”
“Do we have to?” Melinda whines. Sutter nods his head.
“Eventually yes.” He smirks. “It, like my sister, is a necessary evil.”
RE: Trios Tournament 2025 Finals - Thunderhorse - 10-31-2025
(Belmont) "My Disasterpice"
RE: Trios Tournament 2025 Finals - Glimmer - 10-31-2025
Fate wasn't something the Glimmer Sisters really believed in.
Perhaps once upon a time, when they were more naive little girls, concepts like fate, destiny, anything to do with some sort of “mysterious force beyond anyone's comprehension” that dictated how things played out would have been worth buying into. It was easy to believe that things happened for a reason and the way forward was predetermined because how else do you explain the way things will sometimes fall into place?
Fate was an idea Gia & Gina stopped believing in right around the time they left their old lives behind and became the women they are today.
They had taken a huge gamble when they started anew and the Glimmer Sisters were born, one that wouldn't have paid off if they didn't show initiative and seize control of every last facet of this rebirth. They forged plans, they created backup plans, they took notes on how everything was playing out and made sure every last base was covered so that no matter how the pieces fell into place, they already knew exactly what they needed to do to ultimately achieve the one result they cared for above all else.
Anything else wasn't the work of fate... it was simply kicking fate in the balls and forcing it to kiss their asses because they were in charge now.
The only reason fate was on the minds of Gia & Gina was because a certain couple they would be dealing with soon simply could not shut up about it. Honestly, they could think of so many other ways the trios tournament finals could've been so much more interesting, but Gina's team going up against Clyde Sutter, Melinda Braddock and Alex Belmont?
Everyone but Alex on that team could spout “blah blah blah fate blah blah” until the end of time, it didn't change the fact that Gina already may as well have had that trios contract to her name.
Perhaps that was why the two of them were happily lounging around in their trailer, dressed only in barely existing G-strings, making their lists and checking them twice. No, they weren't playing Santa Claus, nor were they strategizing for Under Attack because that had been done since the finals were confirmed. Nah, the twins felt the perfect way to pass the time until tonight's Cirque du Sins show was jotting down some preliminary ideas they could use that contract for... something they were having way too much fun with considering the walls of their trailer were plastered with pages and pages of ideas, and they didn't seem to be out quite yet.
Gia: Here's a thought: we could give that snow bitch what she thinks she wants. Handicap match against us, but we're not putting the titles on the line. BUT! She has to wrestle in whatever lingerie we pick out for her, and if she loses then she becomes our bitch for the rest of her career.
Gina: Tempting, especially after she thought it'd be funny to clobber me with a chair last show. You know she'd blow a gasket if we did that to her... I just don't know if it's worth it when she'd probably just quit before we actually get to boss her around.
Gia: Eh, we'll workshop it then.
That idea is torn out of Gia's notebook and added to the wall via one of those dumb little fridge magnets, right next to a whole section of ideas that basically amounted to “force certain wrestlers to compete nearly naked for their amusement.”
Gia: Uh, sis, you're not seriously writing down “challenge for world title” are you?
Gina: It's a base, Gia. I'm trying to figure out how we make it work for us so that we share the title when we win it and we can only defend it on our terms.
Gia: You think somebody's gonna get all butthurt about how disrespectful that is?
Gina: You think I care?
Gia actually thinks about it... for all of two seconds before she just shrugs and laughs. Gina shakes her head at that before she rips the page out and goes to pin it to the door with another magnet. As she goes to do so, however, the trailer door opens at the worst possible time.
Lucian: Oi, you bitches- OW! What the fuck!?
Apparently, Lucian decided to drop in on the twins unannounced, and despite knowing they preferred him to knock, today he apparently felt like just straight-up trying to waltz his bloated carcass inside. Pretty sure he's regretting that as he opened the door right when Gina went to pin her world title idea to flesh out later and ended up punching him in the face.
Gina: Oops, sorry Lucian.
Gia snickered as her twin's tone made it very clear she wasn't actually sorry.
Gia: What the fuck are you doing just trying to barge in here anyway? Didn't we tell you to knock first?
Gina: For all you know, we're not decent.
Lucian: I can see bloody damn well you bitches ain't decent right now, and you know I've seen you both end up completely naked by the end of a few of your routines, yeah?
Gia: I think you know exactly what my sister means, Lucy.
Lucian let out a roar of frustration at the unfortunate nickname the twins had decided to run with. Just as he seemed ready to finally get on track, he couldn't help but glance at some of the papers and read over them.
Lucian: “Force two people we don't like to compete in just their underwear with us as referees, loser becomes our bitch.” What the bloody hell is all this about now?
Gina: We're killing time by brainstorming all the different ways we can use that trios contract I'm about to win.
Lucian: Getting a little ahead of ourselves, aren't we mates?
Gia: You do know who you're talking to, right?
Lucian watches as both twins cross their arms over their bare chests, and while it upsets him that they're now cleverly blocking the goods from his view, he can't help but snort at the grins that remind him of just how confident his greatest attraction is. Like that old song says: it ain't bragging if you back it up.
Lucian: Alright, fair enough, I guess.
Gia: Back to my earlier question: what the fuck are you doing in here?
Lucian: Well for one, I need my bloody cut of your SCW profits so I can get Antonio out of here preferably before showtime tonight.
The twins exchanged glances, the cocky smiles fading momentarily before Gina walked over to the counter where a bra was sitting. Who's bra was it? Honestly, the twins couldn't keep track half the time considering their proportions were literal mirror images of one another in every way, so anything that fit for one would fit for the other. All Gina cared about right now was lifting it up to grab a wad of cash that had been hidden under one of the cups, which she happily shoved against Lucian's chest with a little more force than was probably necessary.
Lucian: Oh yeah, that's the green daddy likes.
Gia: If you're going to start trying to orgasm over us keeping our end of the deal like we always do, then please go fuck off and do it somewhere else. I'm totally not into the idea of bleaching my eyeballs before we go on tonight.
Lucian: That actually leads me to the second reason I'm here. Gina, babe, how's your bloody back doing?
Gina: First off, if you call me 'babe' again, I'm kicking you in the dick so hard you'll puke up your nuts. As for my back?
Gina proceed to fall backwards into a handstand, kicking her legs for a moment like she was riding a bike before she lowered herself into a contortion where her breasts were pressed against the trailer floor and her feet framed her head, her spine bent into a perfect C shape. It kind of looked to Lucian like she'd curled up into an inverted ball someone could pick up and throw.
Gina: You tell me.
Lucian: You could've told, not shown. Still, that's hot as fuck.
Gia: So what if some dumb bitch who thinks way too highly of herself hit my sis in the back with a chair? That ain't gonna stop her from helping James and Enigma finish the job and get us some extra juicy power to flaunt in people's faces.
Gina: Nor is it going to keep me from performing tonight. I'm honestly surprised you care.
Lucian: Of course I care! Just because I'll proudly admit to being a bloody scumbag because money is everything right now mates doesn't mean I can't almost shit my pants at the thought of one of my acts getting seriously hurt. It's bad for fucking business!
Gia & Gina exchange glances, the look of cringe making it clear they could've done without the thought of this fat tub of lard that was their sleazy perverted ringmaster literally shitting his pants. Still, they weren't entirely convinced, and Gina even killed some time waiting for Lucian to actually come clean by lifting her feet up and using them to start tying her hair into a ponytail, not once actually leaving her contortion position as she did so. That sight seemed to help crack his resolve a bit.
Lucian: Look, I ain't joking about what I said, alright? But... maybe the concern was raised by someone else on whether or not you could go tonight, yeah?
Gia: And who thinks Gina's too hurt to stop us from flaunting all that we've got for these Minneapolis morons before we waltz into the US Bank Stadium on Sunday night and embarrass a few more losers whose luck is about to run out?
???: Ey, can't a guy be worried that he saw a bitch get blasted from behind, and not in the fun way, and think 'what if her back seizes up while she's 20-something feet in the air trying to do the trapeze'?
An arm suddenly draped itself over Lucian's shoulders before the creepy grin of Angel was mashed up against Lucian's face. Now, despite the fact that Angel was very clearly putting on a female persona, as drag queens do, he was still very much a man beneath the giant fake tits and women's lingerie that did a blatantly terrible job of hiding his package. Lucian may be a proud pervert, but anything involving guys only went as far with him as watching them perform in his slutty circus or in porn. His gate only swung one way, and that was why he frantically shoved Angel off of him, which only led to Angel ending up in a handstand before he tried to mimic Gina's contorted pose.
Unfortunately for him, while he was very flexible, this was an area the Glimmers learned they had him beat.
Lucian: You mind bloody warning me before you get all fucking touchy-feely, mate?
Angel: What? Can't I show some appreciation to my circus daddy for giving me a shot?
As amusing as it was to stand there and watch Lucian freak out over Angel's antics, the twins felt a little uneasy about his 'concern.' This is what led to Gina uncurling herself before turning her bare back to Angel.
Gina: Look closely, dumbass. You see any welts or bruises on this beautiful back of mine? Didn't think so. Frosty the Snow Slut got a cheap shot in to keep her fragile little ego from melting, but all she did was stun me.
Angel: Hey, I'm just saying. That looked like it hurt like hell. Maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to sit out tonight's show, make sure you're actually good to go for your little match on Sunday?
Gia: Uh, hello, I'm still alive and kicking over here! Besides, what would you know about getting hit in the back with something?
Angel: Ohohoho, I know a thing or two about...
Angel's eyes widened and he suddenly clammed up.
Angel: Tch, never mind. Point is, if I'm gonna be part of this circus family or whatever for a while, that means I should be looking out for you gals, right?
Now, to anyone else, they might've thought Angel might be heading in the direction of some sort of dirty comment or joke hoping to either get a laugh out of the twins and the ringmaster or get under their skin for his amusement. And while Lucian seemed to shrug it off fairly quickly as he and Angel engaged in some sort of conversation now, Gina had tuned it out entirely. The way Angel suddenly looked freaked out and shut his mouth, like he said something he wasn't supposed to, hadn't quite flown under the radar like he'd probably hoped it did.
That was when Gina squinted, taking a careful look at Angel's back while he was still attempting a contortion that wasn't quite able to match what she'd been doing beforehand. It was a little hard to tell at first because, admittedly, it blended in very well with the elaborate drag queen lingerie getup he had going on, probably to keep his fake tits firmly in place, but one thing that allowed the Glimmers to become the master schemers they were today was their ability to notice the little details that otherwise went unnoticed. The moment Gina noticed it, she elbowed Gia to get her attention before nodding to Angel, and it wasn't long before both sisters were aware of it.
He could hide it all he wanted, but they had spotted the rather heavy amount of kinesio tape across his back, and it sure as hell wasn't being used to hold his top together.
Gina: You see it, right?
Gia: Yeah. Solid cover job, but not hidden well enough. And the way he freaked out when I asked him about getting hit in the back?
Gina: If I'm right about what this means, I think I'm gonna be sick.
The Glimmers kept their voices low, deciding this discovery was best kept to themselves for the time being. For as much as Angel got on their nerves and was blatantly trying to steal their spotlight with the circus, as if he wasn't being obvious enough about it, they hadn't forgotten what Lucian had told them about Angel being Antonio's “favorite slut,” which opened up a whole can of worms they really didn't want to touch right now without more info.
This discovery painted a picture of that they really were not comfortable with, especially knowing how badly Antonio seemed to want his hands on the two of them.
Lucian: In any case mate, if Gina's back's good, and I have no reason to bloody doubt her after her hot little contortion show, then she and Gia keep the closing act spotlight tonight. But hey, that means you get to have your Lust Ticket fun sooner, you sick kinky fuck!
Angel: Heh, pros and cons I guess.
While they only tuned in to the very end of whatever Lucian and Angel were talking about, they'd gotten all they needed to know just from that exchange alone, and while Angel seemed content like the proud slut he was for Lust Ticket fun times, it wasn't hard to miss the twitch of his eye that clearly told the story of someone getting irritated that things weren't going according to plan.
Lucian: Right, showtime's in an hour! Ladies, stop fantasizing about whatever the bloody hell you plan on doing with your contract or whatever once your team wins on Sunday and finish getting dressed. I've got some late business to take care of before we put on the hottest fucking show this side of Minnesota!
Lucian strutted away, clearly pleased with himself even as he started mumbling something about this state being devoid of anything worthwhile beyond his circus for this weekend, but he was long past the point of being worth Gia & Gina's attention. Their eyes turned to Angel, who was now standing upright and straightening out his attire.
Angel: Ah well, was worth a shot, right?
He flashed them a cocky grin and even had the audacity to wink before he began strutting away, leaving Gia & Gina annoyed as they just closed their trailer door.
Gia: Seriously, what is his deal?
Gina: Gonna go out on a limb and say Antonio really wants him to outright replace us. We already know it, Lucian knows it, but at least Lucian's got enough of a brain to know that losing us as performers may as well be a death sentence for this place.
Gia: You remember how desperate he was to keep us from looking into side hustles when we got fed up with him skimming our paychecks. He's just lucky we've grown too attached to flaunting what we've got for an audience of horny fucks to let this go that easily.
Gina: And SCW should be thanking us for giving people extra incentive to buy tickets for their shows if it means getting to see us kick people's asses as much as we love flaunting ours.
The sisters couldn't help but laugh and smack each other's asses as though it was an exclamation point on a statement that only they were even aware of. Can't blame them for feeling it was poetic all the same. Still, showtime was coming up and boy did they plan a hot little trapeze routine for this evening. The G-strings they were wearing thankfully made up half of their chosen attire for the night, and the other half?
Well, they had a pair of championship belts hanging in their closet that nobody seemed to mind them using as bras.
Everything seemed pretty straightforward from here as they helped get the title belts in place to cover their girls (for now). Put on a sinful little show tonight and see if they could break a record for how many pairs of underwear they ruined before they left the center ring. Have some Lust Ticket fun with some lucky fucker who was going to have all their dreams come true. Saunter their hot round asses into the US Bank Stadium and keep their undefeated ways intact by joining James Evans and Enigma in destroying a team that already lost the moment the finals were set. Then next week-
Well, I did say it all seemed straightforward, but just as the twins were all set to head on into the big top and talk through things with the trapeze riggers, the door to their trailer was violently thrown open and then slammed shut. Gia & Gina wanted to start cussing out whoever just barreled into their trailer, but the words died on their tongues as they saw Angel leaning against the door, eyes blown wide, breathing heavily, almost like he was in the middle of a full blown panic attack. He frantically glanced out the window in the door before ducking down, like he was trying to hide from someone.
The Glimmers had an idea who it might be if that was correct, and any irritation they felt around Angel vanished pretty quickly.
Gina: Uh... Angel?
Angel: Quiet! He can't know that I'm in here!
Angel suddenly did a double take once he realized he wasn't alone.
Angel: What the hell are you two broads still doing in here?
Gia: Uh, this is our trailer.
Gina: We just finished getting dressed. More to the point, is everything-
Angel harshly shushed her, and while Gina & Gia wanted so badly to be annoyed, their concern over the way the drag queen was acting overrode all else. The twins chanced a glance out one of the other windows, and their concerns were validated: Antonio was standing right in the middle of the circus grounds, chatting with Lucian who was clearly trying not to shit himself as he made his monthly payment and the despicable crime lord was pacified for another month. The fact that Antonio kept looking around for something, or perhaps someone, wasn't lost on them, and even they found themselves pulling out of sight when they saw him glance in the direction of their trailer.
It would be several minutes, but eventually, Angel seemed to relax, and Gia & Gina could confirm that Antonio seemed to have left. Their attention immediately turned to the drag queen, who looked ashamed now that he was aware they were still in here.
Gia: Hey, Angel...
Angel: Not a word.
Gina: Look, I think we have an idea of what's going on-
Angel: Then keep it to yourselves. You saw nothing, this didn't happen, capisce?
Before the twins could try any further, Angel pointed at them in warning before he slowly opened their trailer door, took a peek around to confirm the coast was clear, and then slipped away, leaving the Glimmers even more concerned than before about Antonio's looming presence haunting the adult circus like a plague ready to destroy it all, just because he could.
RE: Trios Tournament 2025 Finals - James Evans - 10-31-2025
OOC: Da rules.
1) The italicized sections in between the CD portions, are merely James' thoughts.
2) The sections written in third person, are happening in James' real life.
3) The section written in first, is a continuation of the story that's taken place in the last two rps, and in James' head.
4) Good luck and enjoy.
Shattered Reality, 003
RE: Trios Tournament 2025 Finals - The Assassin - 11-01-2025
4 of 4
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October 28th, 2025
Charlotte, NC
Off Camera
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It is just a few days away from Under Attack. Who would have expected a relative newcomer like Melinda Braddock and her temperamental boyfriend Clyde Sutter to work together with, to get along with The Shinigami Foundation’s Alex Belmont to advance to the finals of the Trios Tournament? Few may have predicted it, many may have had their doubts, but Sutter and Braddock knew all along that they would be here in this position for Under Attack. They knew that Fate would grant this opportunity to win the 2025 Trios Tournament and earn those contacts. It is their firm belief in Fate that has given them the confidence they needed to advance this far. The fact that their team with Belmont is arguably the single most cohesive unit in the Trios Tournament doesn’t hurt matters, either. It seems as if the combination of The Vision and The Shinigami Foundation may be unstoppable and well on their way to having Trios power in their possession if they get past the unlikely trios of James Evans, Enigma, and Gina Glimmer.
Before making the trek to Minneapolis for Under Attack, Clyde Sutter and his faithful beloved Melinda have another task to take care of in Charlotte, North Carolina; namely, cleaning up the mess left by Sutter’s now former friend Joey. The Assassin learned that Joey had faked the ransacking of the Charlotte apartment where Sutter let Joey stay, all as part of a grander, more complex plan to keep Sutter distracted while Lilith Sutter, Clyde’s far more dangerous sister, finds a way to clear her name of a murder charge that had forced her to flee the United States. When Clyde learned that Joey had been helping his sister, he kicked Joey out of the apartment. He ordered him back to England. Sutter hopes to never see the traitorous Joey ever again.
The late afternoon sun slanted through the tall windows of the Charlotte apartment, casting long amber streaks across the hardwood floors. Dust motes floated lazily in the golden light, disturbed now and then by movement, a rag being shaken out, a garbage bag rustling, the faint scrape of a chair leg being pushed back into place. The place had once been spotless, a reflection of Melinda Braddock’s elegant sensibilities and Clyde Sutter’s quiet discipline. But now, as they moved through the living room, it carried the unmistakable marks of another presence, one that no longer belonged there. Joey’s presence lingered in ways neither of them cared to admit. A half empty soda can on the counter. A sweatshirt draped carelessly over the arm of the sofa. The faint smell of cologne that didn’t belong to either of them. It wasn’t just the physical mess, it was the residue of something that had gone wrong. Betrayal had a way of seeping into a place, clinging to the walls like smoke, impossible to air out in a single afternoon. Joey had been The Assassin’s best friend and confidant going back to their days on the streets of Birmingham, England. He was one of few that Clyde felt he could trust. Yet Joey betrayed that trust. Joey chose to help Clyde’s sociopath sister Lilith instead of remaining loyal to Clyde himself. This betrayal hurt The Assassin. It hurt him more than anyone or anything else could.
Clyde Sutter moved quietly, methodically, his large frame filling the small spaces between furniture as he gathered what was left of his former friend’s things. He wore a simple gray T-shirt and dark jeans, his long black hair pulled back loosely, but his movements were taut, precise. The stoicism that usually defined him had sharpened into something colder. Every time he picked up one of Joey’s forgotten items, his jaw tightened just slightly, a muscle twitching beneath the skin. He wasn’t rushing, if anything, his slowness made it worse, as though he needed to make sure every trace was gone. He’d thrown Joey out several nights ago, but his anger hadn’t cooled. It sat heavy in him still, buried deep but unmistakable in the way he moved, in the silence that followed him from room to room. The apartment itself reflected their personalities, clean lines, neutral tones, a careful blend of comfort and modern minimalism. The furniture was sleek but lived in, the decor understated. Yet, beneath its calm aesthetic, it felt unsettled now, as if the space itself knew that something fundamental had cracked. The faint sound of the city outside seeped through the glass, blending with the quiet rhythm of cleaning.
Melinda Braddock was on her knees by the bookshelf, stacking a few paperbacks that had been left scattered on the floor. Her blonde hair was tied up loosely, a few strands escaping to brush against her cheek. She wore a simple navy blouse and fitted jeans, casual but immaculate as always, her movements calm and deliberate. Every so often she paused, glancing toward Clyde with a look that mixed worry and restraint. She hadn’t said much since they started. She knew better than to try and reason with him when he was like this, focused, silent, the anger simmering too deep to reach with words. Instead, she worked quietly beside him, letting her presence do the talking. Still, she could feel the tension radiating off him like heat. The way he gripped the garbage bag too tightly, the way his shoulders stayed squared even when he bent down, the quiet exhale he gave when he found something else Joey had left behind. Trust was something Clyde didn’t give lightly, and when he did, it was absolute. To have that trust broken, it wasn’t just a disappointment. It was a wound. Melinda rose to her feet, dusting her hands off as she surveyed the space. It was slowly starting to look like their home again, though the energy in the room hadn’t settled. The coffee table was cleared now, the counters wiped down, but the silence was still thick. Even the faint scent of cleaning spray couldn’t mask the undercurrent of unease that hung in the air.
“Are you ok, Clyde?” Melinda asks simply, breaking the silence. The Assassin meets the gaze of his Third Generation Goddess and sighs.
“Joey is gone. Yes, I am fine.”
“You don’t look like it.” She states. “I know how it hurts you when someone betrays you. I know how much that angers you. If you need to talk about it…”
“Trust me, my love, I am fine.”
“It seems to me that you are bottling the anger up.” Melinda retorts. “Just know that if and when you are ready to talk about this problem with Joey, I am here.”
“Of course.”
Clyde crossed the room and set a cardboard box down beside the door. Inside were the remnants of Joey’s stay, clothes, a few personal items, and a set of keys that would no longer fit in the lock by tomorrow. He stood there for a long moment, staring down at it, his expression unreadable. The fading sunlight traced the hard edges of his face, deepening the shadows beneath his eyes. Melinda lingered near the window, her arms folded loosely, her gaze drifting between Clyde and the quiet view of the city below. Cars moved steadily along the street, their reflections flickering across the glass. Life outside went on, indifferent to the kind of personal fracture that could change the feel of a home overnight. Behind her, Clyde finally moved again, wiping his hands on a towel before tossing it aside. His breathing was steady, but his shoulders were still tense. Melinda watched him closely, her concern tempered by the knowledge that he needed space to process what had happened. She had seen him angry before, fierce, loud, unfiltered, but this was different. This was quiet anger, restrained and heavy, the kind that could last longer than it should. A few minutes passed like that, the two of them moving in separate rhythms within the same space, bound by the same unspoken weight. The last of Joey’s things were gone now, but his betrayal still seemed to hang in the air like humidity before a storm. Clyde sank into the edge of the sofa, his elbows on his knees, fingers laced together, staring down at the floor as if he could see the moment everything had turned.
Melinda took a slow step toward him, her heels clicking softly against the wood. She stopped just behind the couch, hesitating for a brief moment as she looked down at him. Her expression softened, a mix of sympathy and quiet strength, as though she was deciding whether to speak or not. The light outside dimmed as the sun finally sank below the skyline, and the apartment filled with the soft glow of the lamps. The day had slipped away, leaving them in that fragile space between tension and calm, between silence and the words that were about to break it.
“Clyde, you’re bottling it up and it isn’t healthy.” Melinda says. “I’m worried about you.”
“I am more worried about you.” Sutter answers as he turns his gaze to Melinda. “Joey’s betrayal is something I can move on from. I grew up on the streets. I am used to betrayal. This particular betrayal is different because it could impact you.” He runs a hand through her long blonde hair. “He has helped my sister. He gave her the tools necessary to return to this country. At least in Russia, away from her connections and criminal empire, it would be difficult for her to touch us. Now Lilith is back…” he sighs “...or at least she will be…and I fear what she might do to you, just to get to me.”
“She won’t do anything to me.” Melinda answers boldly. “We will be fine.”
“She already tried to kill you.” Clyde states. “She targeted you and Archie, remember?”
“Yes…” her voice trails off as those horrible memories flood back into her brain “...but Archie was the target, not me. I was just caught in the crossfire.”
“Lilith targeted Archie Van Stanton because she knew of his connection to me. Lilith knew that Archie was my half-brother. Lilith’s end game is to get me back into her life somehow. And if that means eliminating everyone else in her way, she will do that. If she views you as an obstacle, she will try to get rid of you.” The Assassin shakes his head. “Unfortunately this is why I must give her what she wants and go see her.”
“I still think that is a bad idea.” Comes the commanding voice of Melinda Braddock. “Your sister is a psychopath. Who knows what she will do when she gets you alone with her?”
“She wants me alive.” Clyde remarks. “She wants me to join her. She won’t hurt me, my love.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because she is my sister and I know her.”
The conversation between The Assassin and The Third Generation Goddess is interrupted suddenly with a knock banging at the door. Sutter and Braddock exchange curious looks. Neither of them expected any visitors today. In fact, outside of their closest friends and family, no one even knows that they own this apartment in Charlotte, North Carolina. No one would have known that they would be here. Sutter’s paranoia instantly peaks as a suspicion washes over him. Lilith? His sister certainly could have the connections to track him, to find him wherever he happens to be. Sutter rises up to his feet and motions for Melinda to stay seated.
“Stay where you are.” He says commandingly. Melinda doesn’t even bother to protest. She just nods her head, watching in anticipation as Clyde approaches the door. Sutter carefully opens it and instantly spots an unwelcome visitor…
…Mason Van Stanton.
“Uh, hello Clyde.” Mason replies, clearly a bit anxious about this. He has reason to be anxious. Sutter instantly grows enraged, instantly loses control. He grabs Mason by his throat and brings him into the apartment. He slams him against a wall.
“Clyde!” Melinda exclaims. But it is too late. Sutter’s rage has boiled over.
“You have the nerve to come here?!” Sutter shouts angrily. He punches Mason in the gut then throws him on the floor. Mason struggles to push himself back up to his hands and knees but Clyde kicks him in the ribcage, causing him to roll on the floor again. Sutter mounts Mason and wraps his strong hands around Van Stanton’s throat.
“Clyde, you’re going to kill him!” Melinda shouts. “Please stop!”
“Yes…” Mason chokes, struggling to breath “...please…”
Sutter wants to pummel Mason. Before Joey helped Lilith, it was Mason Van Stanton who had helped his sociopathic sister in a betrayal of Sutter’s trust. Clyde may not be able to get his hands on his sister or on Joey, but he can get his hands on this other traitor. He wants to choke the life out of Mason but then he looks at the fear in Melinda’s eyes. Realizing that he scaring his beloved is enough to snap Clyde out of it. Sutter releases his vice like grip and then stands up.
“Very well.” Sutter says stoically. “What do you want? Why are you here?”
Van Stanton struggles to get back to his hands and knees. Melinda offers out her hand. Mason accepts it and Melinda helps him back to his feet. Van Stanton dusts himself off and sighs.
“I get why you are angry, Clyde, but I…” he shakes his head “...I need your help.”
“You betrayed me to my sister. Yet you now still come here to ask for my help?” Clyde sneers. “You have guts, I will admit that.”
“I know, I know, I trusted the wrong person.” Mason shakes his head. “I should never have trusted your sister.”
“You are just now figuring this out?” Clyde asks.
“Lilith propped up my managerial agency. I only kept myself up thanks to her financial backing. But now…” Mason’s voice trails off. Sutter smirks.
“She took your agency from you. Is that it?”
“Yeah, she forced me out.” Mason shakes his head.
“It serves you right.” Sutter remarks. “Now what do you want me to do about it?”
“I know you can’t get my agency back for me. I will figure something out, I will find a way to make ends meet. But until then I need somewhere to stay. And I will…”
“Stop it right there.” Clyde shakes his head. “No.”
“No?!”
“No way.” Sutter remarks. “You made your bed, you will lie in it. You did this to yourself.”
“Clyde, you should reconsider.” Melinda says. “He has nowhere else to go.”
The Assassin looks over at Melinda then at Mason Van Stanton, who is still reeling from the attack. Sutter looks back at Melinda and nods his head.
“Very well, for you.” He looks over at Mason. “You may stay here in this apartment but you are not staying for free. You will pay rent. Are we clear?”
“Yes, I get it.” Van Stanton nods his head.
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Vlog #66
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Hello, my lovelies! The Third Generation Goddess Melinda Braddock is here just one day away from Under Attack, one day away from when The Vision gains a kind of power that no other faction in SCW has ever gained before, and we’re gonna do it in record time. Who, I ask you, can say that they have had two Trios Contracts to utilize in the same year? Just one Trios Contract can alter the trajectory of SCW for the foreseeable future and on. Just ask some of those with memorable Cash-Ins, such as Ace Marshall putting the world title on the line in a giant gauntlet match or Kimberly Williams putting every title on the line? So much power, so much control with just one Trios Contract. Imagine someone having TWO to utilize in one year? The Vision will have that kind of power. It is the kind of power that not even The Fall of Man could ever comprehend having.
#TwoTriosContracts
#Power
Now I want to turn the attention to the special guest for tonight’s Vlog, my future husband, The Harbinger of Fate himself, The Assassin Clyde Sutter.
Fate has brought the six of us together for a purpose. Gina Glimmer, you and your sister have something that The Vision wants. My beloved and her sister have been undefeated in tag team competition since arriving in SCW but beating you at Under Attack will add even more claim to their tag team championship opportunity. Winning the Trios Contract will also guarantee them a title shot…if they so choose to use it on you. Fate has brought us together so that you can have a preview of what is to come in YOUR future, Glimmers.
Mr. Evans, we once worked together. While I was not officially a member of The Fall of Man, I still loyally worked with you and your companions to do your dirty work. Now Fate has brought us together again but this time you are standing in the way of The Vision obtaining the Trios Contracts. Fate is not without a sense of irony but make no mistake about it, despite our pleasant past, my beloved and I, along with Mr. Belmont, will do whatever it takes to defeat you at Under Attack and win the Trios Tournament. Fate has planned this out. Fate has written the script. Fate will not be denied.
Of course we would be remiss if we didn’t mention SCW’s newest monster Enigma…
#MonsterMachine
#Spiral
#NoChanceInHell
Yeah, no chance in hell that you will make a difference for your team. As big and as bad as you are, and I do credit you for being big and bad, there is nothing you can do to stop the will of Fate. There is no need to fight Fate. Just accept it. Accept your role in Fate’s plan. Accept that your Fate is sealed.
RE: Trios Tournament 2025 Finals - Enigma - 11-01-2025
![[Image: IHjB1AJV_o.jpg]](https://images2.imgbox.com/93/b9/IHjB1AJV_o.jpg)
“I brought a knife to a sermon. Would’ve been rude to leave it sheathed.”
MAN/MONSTER || CHAPTER 28 (KNIVES OUT)
From tape hiss to haunted carnivals to the boiler room confessional — ENIGMA cuts through fate, faith, and the mirror.
[read -->KNIVES OUT<-- here]
OOC: Good luck to our opponents and sorry for humping deadline. Those who know, know.
RE: Trios Tournament 2025 Finals - James Evans - 11-01-2025
OOC: The same rules apply…mostly.
Shattered Reality, 004