#i had to write a full riley portion LOL
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Whose side? (AO3 Link)
Fandom/Pairing: FHR / Chargentstep
Word Count: 992
Warnings: Big fat Retribution spoilers here, and make sure you read @sidestepping‘s fic “The Heist” first to put this one into context lol.
Summary: Riley really only needs rescuing from the machinations of her own web spinning.
Your breath hitches in your throat, pinched tight and sore. Eyes flick to Ortega, no longer struggling, just staring at you with fiery accusation and betrayal. To Argent, arms crossed and rigid, face unreadable in the reflected dancing candlelight as her gaze goes back and forth between you and Hollow Ground. To Hollow Ground, smug and superior in her upper hand, lips quirked in a too-similar smirk as she watches and waits for your answer.
You, in the middle, unable to see beneath any surface. Pinned down and stretched out on display for all. It's a too-familiar feeling that makes you want to rip your skin off.
Water of the covenant.
Blood of the womb.
You, an abomination born of water and forged in blood.
Whose side are you on? No one's. There was never a side for you. There never has been. Heartbreak proved that. There's only illusions to be indulged in because the truth makes life too bleak. You should have guessed they would evaporate sooner rather than later.
You should have seen the knife aimed at your spine.
Whose side isn't the important question. Not to you, even if they're all burning with it. No, you're just numb to it, ice throbbing in your veins. Slicing into your heart. You have something of your own to ask, far more important. Even if you know the answer will make you want to throw up the perfectly rare prime rib settling like lead in your gut.
"This wasn't just a family dinner, was it?" you ask, flat and emotionless, finally settling on Hollow Ground.
"Family?" Understanding doesn't dawn on Argent's face, only more confusion. You can guess the thought, even with the dampeners making her as unreadable as Ortega. Re-Genes don't have families.
Hollow Ground meets your stare evenly with a shrug. "I can't control who crashes my estate when."
"But you can lay the trail. Bait the trap. That's why you sent Manolo instead of your driver this time." Everyone knows Jake. The message would be unmistakable for anyone seeing him. This person has business with Hollow Ground. You should have known.
"She's sharp," he barks with a laugh over his shoulder.
"This time?" Ortega hisses and finally shoves his way out of Jake's grip and whirls on you. Jake is stayed with a negligent wave of Hollow Ground's hand. But tightly coiled, ready to act again if needed. "How long have you been colluding with these assholes?"
"How long have you been spying on me?" you snarl back. How much has he seen? Why didn't Argent warn you?
Hollow Ground's grin only widens.
"I wasn't spying on you," he protests. Too loudly, a tell. "I just wanted to make sure trouble stayed out of your neighborhood."
"You followed me home?" Hot and cold all over as the blood drains out of your face, as your breath comes out in shallow pants. How much does he know? How much has he been hiding from you?
Why hasn't Argent said anything? You turn to her, voice steadier somehow than you feel. "Did you know?"
"No, not until tonight." She frowns at Ortega before focusing on you. "But what are you doing here? What's this about family?"
"He never told you, did he? His little pet theory he clung to from the day I let him see my face until I was exposed as a Re-Gene?" An empty laugh. Of course he didn't. Especially after he was proven wrong. He hates that more than anything.
"Riley, you shouldn't—"
"Shut up, Ric, Hollow Ground already knows." You can see the "how?" written plain across his face. You ignore it. "Turns out you were half right."
He cocks his head like he didn't quite hear you right. "I was?"
"My donor was her little sister. She ran tests. We haven't gotten to the bottom of how exactly they got their hands on her sister yet. But I think I know why."
Geokinetics are rare and sought after.in the aftermath of the Big One, and boosts tend to run in families. Makes sense for how you turned out with telepathy. Another link in the fractured chain of your life.
"So, what, now you're her sister?" The derision drips from his voice.
"You don't get it." Family but not but she chose to build something with you anyway. A glass house that's shattering around you because of her.
"Of course he doesn't," Hollow Ground says with a hand on your shoulder. You shrug out of it, and there's the slightest crack in her facade that quickly smooths over.
"And I don't know what you were trying to pull with this stunt, trying to pit me against the people I love," you growl and, oh. That gets you a response. Dawning realization, paling skin. "Did you think I was going to jump in after a few months of playing house?"
"I didn't—"
Ortega cuts in. "How could you even entertain this after what she did to—"
You whirl back to him. "Newsflash Ric, she didn't kill Marshall Hood. You just got your foot wet and jumped into an ocean of conclusions. Again."
You catch a glimpse of Argent's eyes widening, but wisely she's staying out of it. If only Ricardo could do the same.
"I— wait... What?"
Bomb dropped, tables turned, their focus on each other now and not you. Good. Time to bail with what little secrets you have left. "I'm leaving."
"Riley—"
"You can't just—"
"Neither of you care about what I want. You're too tied up in your own twisted little games. Just leave me the hell alone, both of you."
You shove past Ortega, fingers dipping into his belt pouch for his keys. Not even the smallest jingle, you still got it. A sour smile as you pocket them and slam the ornate door behind you. You've got your getaway.
They can deal with each other. You can apologize to Argent later.
#kitbug writes things#fhr#chargentstep#ricardo ortega#lady argent#sidestep#riley owens#hollow ground#anti's fantastic fic kicked my mind into such high gear#i had to write a full riley portion LOL#ty again so much anti i owe u my life
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Homeward Bound part 4
Yeesh...long time no write on the continuation to this saga. The story continues on Travis’ trip back to his parents’ ranch in Arizona where he tries to find any lost memories and most importantly tries to reconnect with his family.
@fuzzyelves it’s about time, huh? lol Hopefully part 5 won’t take as long. Previous chapters can be found in my #writings section. Enjoy!
Placed under the cut due to length.
“Here’s to the rest of this visit going easier,” Travis muttered with a pessimistic tone in his voice while pouring a small portion of moonshine. He toasted no one in particular then downed the liquor in one gulp. With the very condensed tale of the past years over with, Travis felt slightly at ease. Slightly. He even dared to admit that he was starting to feel curious about what stories his parents had to share about his forgotten past. Setting the jar down on the coffee table, Travis gave Riley a nod indicating to follow him and together they headed towards the bathroom.
After both men washed the day’s sweat and desert dust off their faces, necks, and arms, they proceeded back down the hall to the door that Mrs. Blackfox indicated was to Travis’ room. However, instead of charging right in, Travis simply stood in front of the door, his hand hovering scant inches away from the worn, brass door knob.
“Are you ok?” Riley asked. “I’m sure this is going to be overwhelming. Just take your time and…”
“Ain’t that. Lookit this,” Travis grunted, pointing at a bouquet of dried sunflowers tacked to the door. “Thought she said this is supposed to be my room, but what’s with the flowers? I might not remember much of anything on my past, but I know hanging flowers on my door ain’t something I’d ever do.”
Riley frowned deeply and uncomfortably ran his fingers through his red hair. “Well,” he started slowly, trying to carefully choose his words. “I’m not sure what traditions or cultures are out here, let alone fully in the wasteland these days, but back in my time something like this meant the person had...ummm...passed away. It’s a memorial of sorts.”
“Buncha shit,” Travis snorted and smacked the door making Riley quirk an eyebrow. However, Travis didn’t explain his remark. In the back of his mind he knew all the years of torture his parents must have went through thinking he was dead was his own fault. He knew all he had to do was ask Mister House for help or even simply get on his motorcycle drive to Hackberry, but fear of rejection always held him back. Regardless of his memories being lost or not, the last thing he wanted to do was try to connect to where he might not be welcome or wanted.
Riley sighed heavily and felt his shoulders slump seeing that Travis’ dour mood was starting to return. He hated seeing him like this and hoped that Travis would relax and cheer up or, even better, find a forgotten memory soon. There was nothing he could say or do at this moment to help as this was something Travis had to overcome on his own. Taking a quick look around, Riley spotted a few frames on the wall near the door. Hoping to break the tension and distract Travis from the flowers, Riley offered, “Check out these photos, Travis. Do any of these spark anything for you?”
Without even turning to look at the pictures, Travis replied with disinterest, “Ain’t got the foggiest.”
The response was almost what Riley anticipated, but he still tried. “Your folks seem to really like photographs. Maybe during this reunion they can add some new pictures to their collection. I’m also willing to bet they’d love to see those pictures you have back in the Lucky 38 showcasing your adventures through the years. I’m sure they’d especially love the ones of you performing on stage at the Tops. I know those are my personal favorites.”
“Maybe.” Travis stared intently at the dried flowers on his door and twitched his moustache in annoyance. He reached to remove them as he wasn’t “dead” anymore, but immediately changed his mind. Although this was his room and he could probably do whatever he wished, Travis felt the removal of the flowers should be decided by his folks. This may be his home, but being absent for so many years he felt he had to earn his place again. Taking a deep breath and twisting the knob, Travis exclaimed, “Here goes nothing!”
The door opened with a soft whine to an average sized room. The room was dim, but the afternoon sun managed to peek through the sides and small holes of a worn, red drape covering the single window. Travis slowly made his way to it across the wooden floor which gave the occasional creek under his boot heels. Leaning over a desk and carefully taking the drape, he pushed it aside allowing the sunlight to enter. He blinked his eyes from the sudden brightness and once adjusted, Travis saw that the room faced a large corral. He frowned seeing it was empty and briefly wondered where all the livestock could be. Furrowing his brow, he continued to gaze at the vast property that made up the ranch while an odd sensation of longing slowly spread through him. He wasn’t sure if it was his broken brain trying to connect back to his forgotten past or something else. Either way, he felt an unfamiliar calm and the ends of his moustache slowly lifted into a wistful smile.
On the right past the corral, he spotted his father and two men out in the distance rolling what appeared to be wooden barrels towards the barn. All three men seemed to be laboring hard over their work indicating that whatever was inside of the barrels was very heavy. Travis wondered if it was alcohol of some sort in the barrels and that momentary distraction suddenly pulled him out of the previous longing. He returned back to the present with a disappointed sigh. I sure could use a drink about now.
Seeing Travis had come out of his momentary fog, Riley smiled and gestured towards the small, makeshift bookcase he was standing in front of. An assortment of different Nuka Cola, Sunset Sarsaparilla, and other types of bottles were arranged neatly on it. Aside from a light covering of dust, they were all in decent condition. “Look, Travis, it seems like you were a collector of bottles like you are now,” Riley commented, hoping that finding a small connection like this would help trigger something for his man’s destroyed memories.
Travis stepped to Riley’s side and looked over the bottles with mild interest. “Dang, some of these I don’t even have back in Vegas. Pretty cool.”
Unfortunately, the spark Travis seemed to have got from seeing the bottle collection was temporary and it vanished as quickly as it came. He flicked his fingers against a glowing Nuka Cola Quantum before turning away and drifting towards the center of the room. Hooking his thumbs in the front pockets of his jeans, Travis slowly turned in a full circle as if trying to take in everything all at once in hopes he would find something familiar to him. However, as he expected, he recognized absolutely nothing. Still, he was slightly determined to find something and figured the best place to start would be his bed. After all, there’s nothing more personal than that little bit of space.
The neatly made, full sized bed was in the corner against the wall. It had faded, red patterned sheets and a folded patchwork quilt rested at the foot. A rag doll of an animal that seemed to resemble a pre-war bison was laying against the pillows. Over the headboard hung a dreamcatcher made from dried vines and adorned with feathers and colorful beads. Next to the bed was a nightstand with an oil lamp, harmonica, a book about Native Americans that has seen better days, and a small frame with a photo inside of a teenage Travis and his father holding up two large fish, obviously proud of their catches.
Travis sat on the bed, snatched up the frame and stared at the photo, his brow furrowed in concentration. “Reckon we ate good that night,” he said glumly as nothing in the photograph triggered any bit of memory. As he set the frame back on the nightstand, his eyes caught sight of a guitar wedged between the bed and the wall. Reaching over the bed, Travis grabbed hold of the instrument’s neck and freed it. He held it against him and gave a few strums, wincing at how out of tune it was. “Shit, gonna have to fix that later if we stick around,” he mumbled more to himself than anything.
Setting the guitar against the nightstand, Travis stood and chose the desk that was directly in front of the window as his next focal point. The desk was made of wood and both it and its chair had seen better days. The desk was far from organized and it made Riley smirk seeing that not much has changed with Travis in that aspect. The desks back at the Lucky 38 were neat for the most part, but every now and then they could be found with stacks of papers and jalapeno stems scattered about. Here, instead of papers and peppers, was a thick homemade journal open to a random page and a tipped over soup can with its contents of pencils strewn about.
Reaching for the chair, Travis noticed there was a gun belt and holster draped over it, but no gun. Taking a quick look around he found the pistol in question, half-buried under the papers on the desk. He carefully brushed them aside to discover a .375 revolver and gun cleaning kit. Disinterested, Travis placed the papers back over the gun then turned his attention to a crude wood carving of a yao guai. Arching a curious eyebrow, he examined it with mild interest noticing the few chips and gouges in the wood betraying the creator’s inexperience. “Wonder if I made these? I mean, it sorta looks like my carving style, but ain’t as good...kinda rough and not too detailed.”
“It’s still very nice and maybe they have been recently learning how to carve. Certainly much better than anything I could ever do.” Riley took the yao guai from Travis and looked it over for any identification of the artist like initials or a date. “Maybe whoever made this was your inspiration of sorts for you to do your own creations?”
Travis took the figure from Riley’s outstretched hand while his shoulders suddenly slumped. “I reckon,” he responded softly. He set the figure down and noticed the initials TB that were carved deeply into the wood of the desktop. He smiled wistfully and traced over the letters with his finger. “I mean I wish I could remember at least one damn thing around here. Bad enough my folks are off the list, but if I could find only one thing I can remember growing up in this place…just one...”
“I understand, but the day is still young. Don’t be discouraged. Something might crop up when you least expect it and if not, that’s ok too,” Riley said gently while reaching for the worn book on the nightstand and carefully flipping through its pages.
“I reckon,” Travis repeated and slowly made his way to the closet on the opposite side of the room. He stood in front of the door and looked over the variety of cowboy pictures that were tacked all over it. The pictures were from pre-war magazines or books and showcased cowboys in all sorts of situations and scenes either in shootouts, riding the range, or participating in a rodeo. Some were even from advertisements promoting clothing and farming equipment. However, the vast majority of cutouts were of shirtless cowboys striking seductive, sultry poses. Travis smirked, “Man, if my folks don’t know I’m a confirmed bachelor, they’re really clueless.”
Riley looked up and saw the pictures Travis was directing the comment about. “Not necessarily. Some people can be very well aware of that fact, just...might not like to acknowledge it, unfortunately.”
Travis frowned and rolled his eyes. “Well, gee, that’s encouraging.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t…”
“Don’t worry about it, Riles. I get what ‘cha mean.” Travis did his best to flash his partner a smile then opened the closet door. As expected it was filled with a variety of plaid and solid colored shirts as well as plenty of jeans. Resting on the floor were a few pairs of worn and dusty cowboy boots as well as random leather gloves and a few coiled ropes. Travis pulled out a blue shirt and placed it against himself as if checking the size before returning it. He continued to sift through the clothes, but like everything else, nothing seemed familiar to him. Besides the bed, clothing would be the most intimate connection a person might have with something, but none of the articles sparked any recollection. This is getting ridiculous, he glumly thought while shutting the door with a frustrated sigh.
Glancing around the room to see if there was anything he might have overlooked, Travis spotted a shelf he hasn’t yet examined. It was adorned with an assortment of neatly arranged trinkets, but what really caught his attention was hanging above it. The item in question was a long spear made out of a tree branch. It was adorned with feathers and beads and its pointed rock tip was attached with leather straps and a strip of gray fur. He stared at it for long moments wondering what the story was behind it. He saw plenty of spears used by Tribals in parts of Utah and this one looked similar to them. It got him thinking if he was truly a descendant of Tribals or even pre-war Native Americans. He had his suspicions and hopes, but nothing was ever validated.
Not wanting to strain his frazzled brain on thoughts about his heritage until he could speak to his parents about it, Travis focused on the items on the shelf instead. Aside from random things such as a few nice rocks and a large pine cone, there was also a carving of a coyote and a two mason jars filled with bottle caps and marbles respectively. However, a framed photo of a teenage Travis holding a baby animal of some kind caught and held his attention. He stared intently at the picture for a long time, more intrigued as to what kind of creature he had rather than if the picture sparked any sort of memory or not. The animal looked similar to the horses he’s seen in pre-war books and magazines or even the toy, Giddyup Buttercup, except this was a real being.
Noticing Travis had found something of apparent interest, Riley looked up from the book. He could see the concentration on his partner’s face and it made him fidget in hopes that maybe Travis finally recognized something. “What has your intense attention, babe?” Riley asked while returning the book to the nightstand then joining Travis at the shelf.
Travis gave him a side glance while nodding towards the photo. “Check it out. What kind of critter is that? I mean, it looks like a pre-war...ummm….horse. At first I thought it was one of those Buttercup toys, but this looks like the real deal.”
When Riley saw the animal in question he couldn’t believe his eyes. He adjusted his glasses and peered closer for a better look at the photo in disbelief. “I’ll be damned. If I didn’t know any better I’d swear that is a horse, but from what I’ve gathered they’re long gone. Well, at least in Boston anyway. Travis, think back during your time at the Big Circle for that brahmin drive. Do you remember anything like this? I mean, you can’t exactly herd cattle on foot...at least I wouldn’t think it’d be too practical. You and the other cowboys had to have a mount of some sort.” Riley felt excitement rising inside of him over the possibility of horses in the Mojave.
Sadly shaking his head no, Travis picked up a carving that was resting against the picture frame. This one resembled the animal in the photograph, but apparently as an adult. Travis stared at it for long moments while tracing over it with his finger, admiring the craftsmanship and details. “The few random things I remember about Big Circle, these critters ain’t one of them,” he said sorrowfully. Suddenly furrowing his brow in frustration, Travis walked back to the bed and dropped heavily on it, still clutching the wooden horse. He rubbed his face with a groan before resting his elbows on his knees. Shifting his gaze up to his partner, Travis twitched his moustache and gave a weak laugh while shaking the carving. “Ya know, had this been any ole room I would be fascinated by all of this stuff...especially the animal in the photo. But knowing this is all my stuff and not having any recollection of it...well...it’s...it’s kinda surreal. Does that even make sense?”
Taking a seat at Travis’ side, Riley put his arm around his shoulders and pressed an affectionate kiss on his cheek. “Yes, it does, babe.”
“At least I got some cool stuff,” Travis weakly laughed, leaned against Riley and closed his tired eyes. “All this stuff and especially the photos don’t mean anything to me. Not a damn thing. It’s so weird seeing me doing shit in pictures, but have no memories of it. Ain’t just surreal, it’s downright frustrating.”
“Well, like I said, maybe something random will crop up for you when you least expect it. Don’t try to force it.” Riley hoped he sounded encouraging, but deep down he knew he really couldn’t offer much. This was all something Travis had to figure out and discover on his own.
Travis glumly nodded against him and felt Riley press a kiss on top of his head. Pulling back, Travis nuzzled against his neck, placing a few kisses on the freckled skin. “Thanks, Riles. This all feels so hopeless, but I’ll try and not give up.”
Riley heard the tiredness and frustration in his partner’s voice and his heart sank. Had they been anyplace else but here, he would have laid back on the bed pulling Travis against him and would do his best to dole out comfort with his hands and mouth. However, that was not an option at this point and time and instead he put his fingers under the whiskered chin of Travis and tilted his face towards him. “That’s all you can do. Like I’ve said earlier, you aren’t facing this alone,” Riley said gently then pressed his lips against his partner’s. “You have my full support in all of this and I’ll respect and honor any decision you make on how to keep moving forward here.”
“Dang, I love you so much,” Travis smiled gratefully and returned the kiss while wrapping his arms tightly around him. “I really cain’t wait to get outta here later and show you just how much.”
Riley playfully nudged him and chuckled. “There will be plenty of time for that. I only hope there’ll be a nice, clean place in town for us to stay.”
“If not, we got the camping gear. That’s good enough for me anyways, you know that.” Travis snickered seeing Riley flinch over the mention of camping. “You know you love it!”
“If I wanted to get hot and sweaty at night, I’d much prefer to do it in our bedroom with you back at the Lucky 38,” Riley scoffed earning a frisky nip on his neck from his partner. “Oh, you’re so lucky we’re not somewhere more private or I’d have to have you put your mouth to better use than that.”
Travis’ moustache lifted to a grin and Riley noticed a small spark of mischief in his crystal blue eyes. Even though he knew Travis was caught up in the moment and the emotions were probably fleeting right now, it was still good seeing him in better spirits than the frustrated, somber mess he’s been since they arrived at the ranch.
As Riley bowed his head down to press a gentle kiss on Travis’ lips, a sharp knock at the door caused both men to jump and instantly scoot away from each other on opposite ends of the bed. Riley found himself blushing fiercely from almost being caught and he immediately turned away, grabbing for the Native American book as a distraction.
Although not as embarrassed, Travis still felt awkward and he cleared his throat to try and compose himself. Grabbing the wood carving, Travis glanced at Riley to make sure he was ready before calling out, “C-come in!”
The door opened and a smiling Mrs. Blackfox stepped in. “Dinner’s about up. It’s your favorite, fried prairie fowl and maize,” she directed at Travis while her eyes caught the wood carving he was clutching. “That right there…” she began, but stopped as she felt a sudden wash of emotions going through her. “Do...do you remember that at all?” Tracy reached for the carving and held it lovingly while her finger traced over the animal’s ears and snout. Travis shook his head no making his mother sigh softly. “This was the last thing you did the night before you left for that New Vegas delivery. You were so proud of this and it was the best one you made since you began learning the craft.” She looked around the room and gave a nod to nowhere in general. “All the figures in here and the few that are out around the house were done by you. Each one you tried harder and harder to perfect, but this one...this was a true labor of love.” Sighing, she handed the figure back to Travis and mustered up a supportive smile. “Reckon that’s a story for later. Now then, come and eat before your father inhales everything.”
Travis sighed as he watched her go then dropped his gaze downwards to the carving. He stared at it for long minutes, suddenly feeling rather sentimental over what his mother said about it being the last thing he did before his fateful journey to New Vegas. He bit his lower lip as he felt tears wanting to build up in his eyes. Furrowing his brow, Travis set the figure on the nightstand and snorted. “Let’s make tracks...I’m gonna pass out from starvation.”
to be continued...
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WWE Extreme Rules 2017: Full rundown and why you should care
Get ready for a show with some extreme (and not so extreme) stipulations.
Welcome to WWE’s annual tribute to 80s hair band, Extreme: Extreme Rules. I briefly considered making a reference to Extreme songs in every match preview, but let’s be real, I can only stretch my knowledge of “Play With Me” and “More Than Words” so far.
Anyway, here is Extreme Rules, a show that looks a lot different than whatever WWE had previously planned for it before Braun Strowman’s elbow needed fixing. As much as we miss Braun, this Fatal 5-Way main event they have planned to determine Brock Lesnar’s next victim opponent seems like it’s going to be pretty great. So, let’s dive in.
Rich Swann and Sasha Banks vs. Noam Dar and Alicia Fox (Mixed tag team match)
What am I looking at here? Gotta admit, we’re not off to a very extreme start. A mixed tag match is a tag match with additional rules, meaning the only thing extreme about this is how many rules there are. More like, uh, Extratreme Rules, right?
...right?
Sasha Banks and Alicia Fox had beef, and Noam Dar is Fox’s plaything, so he joined in on the action. Then Rich Swann showed up to back Sasha for some reason even though Cedric Alexander has returned from injury and has previous unfinished business with ex-girlfriend Fox and the Fox chose over him, Dar.
Why you should care: The coolest thing about this match is that WWE is trusting RAW regular Sasha Banks to get people to watch their cruiserweight show, 205 Live. Mixed tag matches can sometimes be a lot of fun — see Fandango and Summer Rae vs. Emma and Santino — but that’s when they’re played with the purpose of being fun. Too often we’re getting singles matches that happen independently of each other since intergender wrestling is not a thing in WWE, and it can be a drag. Hopefully this is closer to fun than yawn.
Also, I’m sorry that by clicking that link you were exposed to Alex Riley on commentary. There is no cure.
Neville (c) vs. Austin Aries for the WWE Cruiserweight Championship (Submission match)
What am I looking at here? Neville has been Cruiserweight Champion since winning the belt at the Royal Rumble, and has the longest reign in the title’s youthful history. Most of the time that’s just because he absolutely overpowered his opponents, but against Austin Aries, he’s had to resort to some rule-bending and cheating.
At WrestleMania 33, Neville thumbed Aries in the eye when the ref wasn’t looking. At Payback, he got himself disqualified when it appeared he was going to have to submit. So now, these two will face off in a submission match, meaning it’s a no disqualification situation where the only thing that ends the match is tapping out to a submission.
WWE.com
Why you should care: This feud has been wonderful, with both Neville and Aries bringing it every single week on the mic and even more so when they lock up in the ring. Is Aries finally going to wrest the Cruiserweight Championship from Neville here, or will Neville finally pull out all the stops — even the ones the fans he loathes like seeing — in order to finally put Aries away for good?
The Hardy Boyz (c) vs. Sheamus and Cesaro for the RAW Tag Team Championship (Steel cage match)
What am I looking at here? We’re still trying to figure part of that out. The Hardy Menz — hey, they’re adults now, and it’s not the 90s — are known for their ability in ladder matches, so when they got the chance to pick the stipulation, they naturally chose a steel cage match. So that the two big beefy dudes who recently turned heel with the express purpose of beating the Hardys to death now have a cage to assist them in their goal, I guess.
To be fair this has been a very one-sided feud in favor of Matt and Jeff so maybe they’re just trying to help Sheamus and Cesaro get back in the game.
Why you should care: Sheamus and Cesaro are dope as heck, and like 500 pounds of pure muscle and beatdowns waiting to happen to the Hardys. The Hardys are still kind of on the nostalgia portion of their return, where we haven’t been given much character other than “Hey, remember these guys? You used to like them!” — that could change with a loss of the titles, especially if, say, Jeff Hardy decides to do a reckless flip off the top of the cage instead of exiting it to win the match and retain the titles and it somehow backfires in the Hardys’ faces.
Alexa Bliss (c) vs. Bayley for the RAW Women’s Championship (Kendo Stick on a Pole match)
What am I looking at here? All you need to know about the setup is that this feud is built on the idea that Alexa Bliss keeps calling Bayley a child and Bayley’s reaction to this is to pout and stamp her feet and deny it while doing things like lashing out at Alexa Bliss with her fists or attacking her from behind. You know, mature adult stuff and not the emotional outbursts of a petulant child.
The Bayley we love might be dead, y’all. Or at least in a deep slumber, waiting to be woken by someone who can effectively write and understand her character.
WWE.com
Oh, also, there is a kendo stick on a pole and the two women are going to try to reach the kendo stick on a pole in order to take the kendo stick down from the pole and beat the other woman with the kendo stick from the pole.
Why you should care: Alexa Bliss has been incredible since showing up on RAW, awful Monday segment that WWE should never employ in any capacity ever again aside. She’s already beaten Bayley clean without cheating to take the RAW Women’s Championship away from her, so don’t be surprised if she also manages to win a match where she does not have to wrestle fair.
Or idk maybe Bayley wins and then screams “I’M NOT A CHILD” while sticking her tongue out and going “neener neener neener” to Bliss.
Dean Ambrose (c) vs. Miz for the Intercontinental Championship (No Champion’s Advantage)
What am I looking at here? So you might be wondering what the champion’s advantage is and why it’s not happening in this match. Basically, a champion can get disqualified and normally, the title will not change hands when that happens. For heels, taking away the champion’s advantage is a way to keep them from cheating their way to retaining. Ambrose is a face, though, which means in this situation, the focus is on what ridiculous things Miz has to do to goad Ambrose into getting disqualified.
Why you should care: One of my favorite matches has this same stipulation, and the heel in that situation was Christian, who is every bit as needling and annoying as Miz. He tried to get Randy Orton to beat him with a chair and slip up and get himself disqualified in a number of ways, and none of them worked... until Christian SPIT DIRECTLY INTO RANDY ORTON’S OPEN MOUTH while the two were in the corner. Orton did not, uh, take that well, and kicked Christian right in the beans as hard as he could, which cost him the title.
So, seeing how Miz causes Ambrose to similarly snap and forget himself long enough to drop the title should be great.
Roman Reigns vs. Finn Balor vs. Samoa Joe vs. Seth Rollins vs. Bray Wyatt (Fatal 5-Way to determine No. 1 contender for the WWE Universal Championship)
What am I looking at here? Well, this is something. Roman Reigns, Seth Rollins, and Bray Wyatt are former WWE World Champions. Rollins, Finn Balor, and Samoa Joe are all former NXT Champions. Finn is a former WWE Universal Champion, the first one ever, actually, and he faced off against Rollins for that belt in its inaugural match. Now all five of these dudes get to wrestle each other for the right to face Brock Lesnar at, I kid you not, an event named “Great Balls of Fire.”
WWE.com
Yeah we were probably supposed to get Reigns vs. Braun Strowman in an Ambulance Match as the main event of Extreme Rules but as dope as those two are Ambulance Matches are just okay. This is better, especially if Strowman returns from injury soon and is ready to maim whoever is in his way again, anyway.
Why you should care: First of all, there’s basically no wrong choice for the winner here. Roman Reigns vs. Lesnar would only be wrong in the sense that it’s already been a WrestleMania main event and should be again someday, so the timing is off. Rollins as a face taking on Lesnar instead of fighting him as a cowardly heel could be a lot of fun. Samoa Joe deciding he doesn’t want to be suplexed, actually, and is going to choke Lesnar out would be wonderful. Finn Balor showing that the Demon can take on the Beast even if he’s significantly lighter and shorter than Brock is a thing I need injected into my veins.
And man, even though Bray Wyatt’s shtick has gotten pretty old, him vs. Lesnar could be something special just for the weird factor.
Whoever wins this match probably isn’t beating Brock next month, but that doesn’t necessarily mean they need to lose, either. And that’s a problem for Great Balls of Fire (lol), anyway. All we’re concerned about at the moment is what should be a great main event, which, by the way, should be great.
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