HWA Message Board: Brawling

The scene opens out onto one of the backstage corridors at the Intrust Bank Arena. Havoc has not long wrapped up on air with the arrival of Ace Sky at the top of the ramp bringing the show to an end as Sean & Jeremy brawl with Maniac & Lunatik.

Nevertheless, that fight has by now been broken up, security finally stopping them from causing further harm for tonight at least.

Nevertheless, backstage is filled with tension. You can practically cut it with a knife such is it’s cloying weight that settles upon everyone.

There’s been a lot that’s gone on. In the coming days, a lot will be unpacked, but for now, it’s raw and fresh in everyone’s mind.

Into view steps Hans ‘The Baron’ von Richtoven.

He’s come from the offices where Butch & Wisdom Parker have kept him preoccupied since he’d last laid a hand on Professor Hoff.

Since Michelle had gone to stop him from beating him senseless for what he said about his wife Vanessa.

Since he’d simply felt the hand on his arm and thought it was another attacker, lashing out with full force in response.

Since Sean had come careening into him.

Suffice to say that this evening’s events had thoroughly messed with him.

One eye on searching for his room while the other is looking for any sign of Professor Hoff, Hans moves down the hallway like the weight of the world is on his shoulders.

Coming to a halt outside his door, Hans’ forehead gently bumps into it, as he tilts forward, one arm braced up against it for support.

He exhales through his nostrils loudly, eyes closed as he relives the moments he’d rather not.

Hand balling into a fist once again, he almost thumps it against the door, before clamping down on that feeling stops him. Settling for simply pushing the door open, he moves inside.

(Voice): We need to talk.

The sound of the mans voice, for it was unmistakably male takes Hans by surprise and he reacts much in the same manner as he’d done so earlier in the night. With violence.

Sean’s own senses are also thrown into disarray by the darkness but he suddenly feels as if there’s someone tugging at him inside his head, like someone otherworldly trying to pull him away from the melee. Was this his guide? Sensei had told him he would know if it was trying to tell him something. Was he telling Sean this was a bad idea? He jerked his head way involuntarily. Sorry, he thought to himself, this has to happen, for Michelle.

As his eyes adjusted to the dark, Sean throw his forearm up, pinning to what he assumed to be Hans’ chest and hammered several subsequent body shots into his ribs.

Involuntarily letting out a grunt of pain at this, Hans takes a step back, finding his assailant leaning in after.

Not knowing if this is down to the sudden movement throwing them off, or as intended, Hans takes little chance, grappling with his left hand to keep grip and raising his right elbow up before driving it down and into the back of his attackers head, albeit skiffing off the ear and ploughing into shoulder blade, sending him down.

The tumble and flailing limbs colliding with his own poor balance means both of them hit the ground together.

Again, Sean felt another phantom pull; more prominent this time. A faint whisper inside his head followed.

Enough, Sean, please. Not like this…

A fleeting image of Michelle’s face flashed into his mind’s eye. The same one as before during his lesson with Sensei, she looked glowing, hands protectively covering what appeared to be a baby bump. It was enough to disrupt Sean’s equilibrium and he detached from his lightless scuffle with Hans as if he’d just touched a searing hot oven top; recoiling back instantly, his chest heaving.

Hans doesn’t question the sudden release, he’s still acting on instinct.

Kicking out, he connects with something that causes his attacker to grunt in pain.

He flips over, sensing his chance to get free, find his bearings and attack. Scrambling to his feet and for where he recalled a set of the light switches were, he near enough slams into the wall beside it, flicking the switch rapidly on and then off so as to throw off his assailants incoming attack.

Of course, there isn’t one coming.

Having shielded his eyes from the pulse of light he’d caused, Hans listens for that rush of movement preceding a fist or kick impacting him.

None occur.

The only noise is someone breathing at the other side of the room.

He flicks the light on, finding not the last person he’d expect to find there, but not far off it either.

(Hans): Sean?

Sean, chest still heaving, favours his cheek, a slightly bruised colouring taking shape on it from Hans’ initial hook.

(Sean): Expecting another security guard? That’s your excuse, isn’t it?

It takes Hans a second to truly process the situation. To take in who is lying there against the far wall. Who of all people is speaking to him right now.

There’s more questions than there are answers.

Gesturing at Sean, Hans takes a step forward.

(Hans): Verdammt Sean! Why the f*ck are you there?

A look of disbelief floods over his facial features as the cogs start to grind, grasping the situation they find themselves in now.

He stabs a finger up at the ceiling light, now bathing the room in it’s glow.

(Hans): Why were you just standing there in the dark?!

Sean rolls his eyes, as if the answer was glaringly obvious.

(Sean): Playing hide-and-seek! What the f*ck do you think I was doing?! Waiting for you, to talk, until you decided to pick up where you left off earlier!

Hans taps the side of his head, taking another step forward, an edge of anger starting to tint his voice both due to the adrenaline coursing through him and the words that he’s hearing.

(Hans): And so you thought to just stand there in the dark?

The tapping continues, another step forward.

(Hans): Du idiot, du hättest jeder sein können!

He ceases his movement, arms dropping to his sides as the fight leaves him.

(Hans): You could have been anyone Sean. Hoff. Erica…

Shaking the head, he gestures with a hand towards the door.

(Hans): Why didn’t you wait outside like a normal person, jah?

Sean’s nostrils flared. He could feel, like it was a phantom limb, the presence of his guide, as if it were placing a hand on his shoulder. He took a deep breath and extends a pointed finger towards Hans, waving it subtly up and down.

(Sean): First of all, don’t ever call me an idiot. And I wasn’t just anyone, was I? I know I’m not the poster boy for “talk first, fight later”, but I literally said We need to talk!

Hans goes to snap back a response, getting a syllable at best out before he clamps down hard, cutting himself off from rebuking Sean any further at this stage.

His hand again moves to signal the doorway and where Sean is now slumped before again falling by his side as a sigh drifts from his lips, weariness settling on him like a cape.

(Hans): Then talk.

(Sean): What the f*ck was that earlier? You knew Michelle was there, you heard her! And the first thing you think to do is stick fhe head on Michelle?!

Sean stopped himself from saying anything else straightaway. He could feel his guide’s calming influence; a feeling that was still alien to him and also a little unnerving at the same time. His subsequent statement was a lot calmer by comparison.

(Sean): Look… I know you didn’t deliberately attack her, okay? I know that. And I know things have been like a complete clusterf*ck with Erica and everything going on with Vanessa. I’m not ignorant to that, Hans.

But f*ck man, come on, all Michelle has done since all this started is try to help and what has she got to show for it?

Sean threw his hands up in frustration, turning his back on Hans momentarily. He coiled up his hand as if he were preparing to ram it into the drywall in front of him. However, again, cooler heads prevailed and he merely tapped the base of his enclosed first several times against the wall.

(Hans): What was that earlier?

Another exhalation follows as he tries to compose his thoughts.

(Hans): That was the one to many buttons being pressed mein freund.

A few more moments pass, another palm open gesture being made towards Sean as Hans then elaborates.

(Hans): That was me getting my hands on das proverbial ‘Fallen’, like you did last year, jah? Seeing red. Seeing another threat to her appear because people are too spineless...

Flecks of spit fly from his mouth as he chews the word out.

(Hans): … to come at me directly.

Surprised by the sheer venom in his tone he stops, dropping his shoulders again and taking a deep breath in.

His next words are not far above a whisper.

(Hans): How is she?

Sean contemplated firing back at that fact that when he went after Fallen, he didn’t accidentally shove his forehead into Vanessa’s face. However, cooler heads prevailing seem to becoming more of a prevalent theme now and he let it slide.

(Sean): She’s fine; a knock on the head and another bruise I have to explain to her God-fearing parents who are already on tenterhooks on her even being in a HWA arena after what happened with Erica. So, you know, thanks for that.

Lip curling up in response to the sarcasm aimed at him, Hans angrily reaches into his pocket, lifting out his iPhone and unlocks it before tossing it into Sean’s lap.

He didn’t want to be petty, but right now, with everything going on, that side of him won out.

(Hans): Spare me Sean. I sympathize, that won’t be an easy phonecall, jah? I know her parents still harbour doubts… would you rather call mein frau’s vater, with him being on tenterhooks on her even being in the country nevermind an arena?

He makes a gesture at Sean, extending the hand out ready to accept.

(Hans): Perhaps I make your call, jah? You make mine?

Throwing his hands up, he turns about and takes a few steps back to the other wall, making a strangled cry of anger as he does so, fighting to hold it in.

Sean was desperately trying to be the bigger person but Hans certainly wasn’t make it easy. He knew Vanessa had been through the wringer with Erica, maybe not physically, just as Michelle had, but mentally for sure. He took another big deep breath. This spirit guide was certainly earning its keep tonight.

(Sean): Are you really trying to dick-measure on who’s partner has had it roughest recently? I’m not downplaying what Vanessa’s been through but seeing as we’re going down that road, out of the two of us, I’m the only one whose better, hasn’t been assaulted by the other. Michelle hasn’t done nothing but try to help people that, by and large, seem to take her for granted, like she’s collateral damage. You, Maniac, Wolfy. And you know what? I’m f*cking tired of it.

(Hans): Dick measuring? Mein freund, you started this guilt trip… unt you lump me in with Herr Chaos…?

He again catches himself, fighting to regain a more calm and composed approach.

He holds up his hands in surrender.

(Hans): You know Sean, I agree with you, I’m tired too. I’m on edge.

He looks his 40+ years now.

(Hans): I’ve been for months if I’m honest… unt…

He lowers himself to the ground, back to the wall, groaning as he slides his legs out to mirror Sean’s pose across the room from him.

(Hans): Unt jah, Michelle is the better person of us all in this place right now.

He throws a look towards the door and the corridor beyond.

(Hans): She know you’re here?

Sean taps the back of his head against the wall behind him.

(Sean): She knows I came to talk to you. And as far as she’s concerned, we worked things out.

His lips a thin line, eyes focused somewhere off in the distance, Hans hears him but doesn’t react for a few moments, taking it in.

He goes to speak but stops.

Another few moments pass, before he relents, his gaze settling on Sean as if seeing him for the first time.

(Hans): I want them gone Sean. Herr Chaos… Fallen… Erica… all of them.

Sean exhaled through his nose loudly, nodding subtly.

(Sean): Join the club…

Yet more silence descends, both men eying one another.

(Hans): So do you have any suggestions mein freund?

Sean had a few… colourful ideas to put it mildly. Although he wasn’t sure how his new driving buddy, for lack of a better term, would feel about them. Nevertheless, it wasn’t a conversation he felt like having with Hans right now.

(Sean): Let’s just say I’m working on it.

Another nod of the head at those words.

(Hans): Working on it, jah?

Slowly, he gets to his feet, padding over towards Sean, extending his hand towards him.

(Hans): Then I hope you’re going to share unt not just keep it to yourself like what Herr Chaos says he’s doing…

A hint of normality surfaces as a small smirk tugs at one corner of his mouth.

(Hans): That is, if he isn’t talking blödsinn, jah?

Sean eyed Hans’ outstretched hand for a moment before accepting it and he was pulled up to his feet.

(Sean): To be honest, I’m playing this one pretty close to the chest. Less people know the better. I’m still trying to figure some things out…

He tapped his forehead with his index finger.

(Sean): … up here… and to be honest, it’s a bit of a minefield in here right now…

Hans nods knowingly.

(Hans): Jah… I get that…

He looks Sean in the eye.

(Hans): I am sorry I hit Michelle. Deeply sorry.

Sean returned Hans’ look. There was a palpable silence for a long moment before he broke it; the subtlest of smiles tugging at the corners of his mouth.

(Sean): Just don’t make a habit of it, alright? She might be forgiving, but me?

The momentary smile quickly disappeared and a cold steeliness glassed over Sean’s emerald-green eyes. Not quite threatening towards Hans but enough to send a clear message.

(Sean): Not so much.

Unperturbed by this, Hans just nods.

Had this happened 5 minutes ago, he’d have been set off again.

That time is gone. For now at least.

His phone starts to vibrate with an incoming call, Sean picking it up off the ground for him and placing it in his hand.

Vanessa, her caller ID and picture flash up.

(Hans): If you’ll excuse me…

He doesn’t wait for a full response, as he turns towards the other side of the room, hearing the sound of his wife’s voice start to soothe his soul.
The scene slowly fades to black as Sean exits.