Latest Roleplays
Rioja Restaurant
Denver, Colorado
Thursday, February 9th, 2023
Things had been tense inside Sanctuary since Monday. The fact that Jace shirked all of his pressing matters in favor of training and clearing his head hadn’t gone over well with Abdullah Choi or any of the STRONKUMMS assistants. More importantly, the fact that Jace had blown off Samantha Tolson when she wanted to go out with Jace on her one cheat day of the week, was not taken well at all.
It was probably a bad idea to tell the woman you’re with and that sleeps in your bed that you had other priorities, especially after you had just come off of an argument days before.
But that is what happened and to make up for it in the days after? Jace had left to go visit long-time friend Kat Jones to taste test some baked goods. Jace is helping fund a bakery shop that would open on Valentine’s Day for Kat under the STRONKUMMS brand. Needless to say, the shenanigans that ensued were posted all over Twitter.
The man had dug his grave in many aspects, but to keep the peace, he had made a reservation for himself and Samantha at the Rioja restaurant here in Denver. It was one of their favorite places and it gave him an excuse to have one of their Grilled Wagyu Tri-Tips. Samantha sat across from him at the table, but he didn’t pay enough attention to notice or remember what she had ordered.
The sound of conversations held by other customers in the restaurant was enough of a low hum that it allowed Jace the chance to zone out. Samantha’s voice was loud enough for him to hear, but he only nodded his head and gave generic answers to the small talk that she tried to make. Nothing too dismissive, but just enough of a response to keep her able to keep the conversation moving.
His focus was on his phone in his hand when he wasn’t enjoying his food. His mind was a million miles away. On Monday he sent a message to Mike Best officially quitting his position as a trainer at TEN-X Wrestling.
Deep down, he started to regret that decision just a little bit.
He had expected a response of some kind from Michael Lee Best. Even if that response was in the form of one of his deadly blog posts where he cursed Jace and his entire bloodline for centuries to come.
There was no response. No blog. No recognition of the fact that a man that had been Mike’s on-again, off-again, friend had just abandoned a venture that they both at one time believed in.
It left Jace in a bit of a dilemma. TEN-X Wrestling just wasn’t a burden to Jace, he felt overlooked and underappreciated for his efforts. It was also a place where he could step inside the ring and apply his craft. He wasn’t a fan of random gyms across the country, but TEN-X was always there right in the heart of Chicago when he needed it.
He had formed a bit of a bond with a handful of the students. Which was normal, considering that they were only there because Jace recruited them. The sound of Samantha’s voice getting a little bit louder brought him out of his thoughts.
“So, I take it you’re feeling better?” Samantha asked as she placed her fork down into whatever it was she was eating.
“I’m getting there.” Jace replied as he only glanced up at her long enough to flash a fake smile.
Samantha continued talking, but he only nodded his head in response. Honestly, he was still in a foul mood. Everything was still fucked up and if he was being real. His neck still slightly hurting after that post-match attack on Saturday night. It was nothing that was going to keep him from defending the LSD Championship belt at the Lethal Lottery, but it was more one annoying thing that he had to deal with.
He was dreading having to get on a flight and go to Cleveland. He had protested that the Lethal Lottery was being held in Ohio, but it had fallen on deaf ears. The fact that he would have to be in Cleveland for longer than 24 hours made his stomach turn. The thought of seeing some of the ugliest people on the planet, walking the streets wearing Bobbinette Carey t-shirts, was a waking nightmare.
And if Bobbinette Carey ended up being the person that draws the LSD Championship match at the Lethal Lottery?
Insufferable doesn’t even begin to explain the reaction from the crowd she would get and the way she’d run her cock sucker endlessly about it for months. However, what if it’s not Carey? What if it’s not someone currently not on the HOW roster?
That would be such a Lee Best move.
“I take it you had fun at Kat’s the last few days.” Once again the sound of Samantha’s voice derailed his train of thought.
“Lots of people showed up for free food. Her new boyfriend is kind of a clown. Had to find ways to stay entertained.” He explained simply.
“Mmhmm.” The sound every single man dreads hearing from a woman that they are sleeping with escapes Tolson.
Jace didn’t even dignify it with a response. He had noticed that lately, Samantha had begun to show the green gills of jealousy. Something he dealt with when he was married. He thought it was laughable coming from a woman that had a 75% chance of having slept with at least five people inside this restaurant right now.
She’s the one that didn’t want to put a label on what they are. So, technically, Jace was a single man and he wasn’t about to have to justify himself for having harmless fun with a woman he considered his Best Frenemy. It was times like this, that he wanted to just get up from the table and go train for his match, much as he did on Monday. But that just circled back to the entire TEN-X Wrestling situation.
Something that…
Suddenly, as if a lightbulb appeared above his head, an idea took root in Jace’s mind. He grabbed a hold of the cloth napkin on the table and fished out the pen from the booklet where the bill was placed. He began to draw on the napkin as Samantha raised her eyebrow.
“I’m pretty sure that what you’re doing is frowned upon.” She stated the obvious.
Jace didn’t care. He was in the moment and he kept doodling away trying to give shape to what appeared in his head. Samantha was done with being ignored and cleared her throat.
“Fine, it’s clear that you’re still upset over what happened last week. Instead of being awkward around each other, I think we need to talk about it.” She said in a stern tone.
“There is nothing to talk about.” Jace fired back as he continued to draw on the napkin.
“Stop playing dumb. You made a point during that training session and things have been tense since then. I’ll take my part of the blame for that, but it takes two people to argue. Just like it takes two people to communicate and work things out.” She tried to use logic and reason.
“Just shut up a minute!” Jace exclaimed as he moved the pen across the cloth feverishly.
Samantha threw down her silverware then reached out and snatched the cloth napkin away from Jace. She looked down at what was drawn on it with wide eyes before looking up at Jace.
“What is this?” Confusion was evident in her voice.
“It’s The Kingdom!” Jace answered happily.
“The Kingdom?” Samantha asked in a way that begged for more clarification.
“I quit TEN-X Wrestling and unfortunately with being on the go all the time. It’s not like I can always use the gym we built in the Sanctuary. I’ve been busting my ass for far too long from the wrong people to just sit and continue to eat shit. I don’t need Michael Lee Best, nor do I need TEN-X Wrestling. Not when I can open and run a gym and school of my own. One a thousand times better than TEN-X Wrestling ever was.” Jace drums his fingers along the table in an excited fashion.
“So, The Kingdom is run by you, on top of everything else you’ve got going on?” Samantha was concerned about burnout.
“My mind is made up. It’s something we both can run with some help. It’s a place we can do our training and a place where the entire Denver Dimes team can meet and train together. Plus, when both our careers are finally over. It’s not like we’ll have to quit the business cold turkey. My birthday is coming up and this is what I want.” He pointed to the napkin.
Samantha sighed and lowered the napkin down to the table. She grabbed a hold of her glass and raised it into the air.
“Then here’s to training the future rulers of the wrestling world, I guess.” There was a smirk forming on her lips.
The scene fades at the sound of their glasses clinking together.
—–
Lethal Lottery Media Tour
Cleveland, Ohio
Friday, February 10th, 2023
Friday evening here in Cleveland was busy seeing as how tomorrow night the Lethal Lottery would be taking place inside Rocket Mortgage Fieldhouse. Then Sunday night was the Super Bowl, which at this point should be a national holiday for the following Monday. The excitement in the city was at a fever pitch.
Fans had lined up outside a small studio here in Cleveland. HOW production crew and cameras were on the scene as Clevelanders piled inside the building. There was a stage set up with a HOW banner in the backdrop along with a poster for tomorrow night’s Lethal Lottery event. On the stage, there were two plush leather chairs set up that were separated by a small wooden table. On top of the table, there are two coffee mugs in a shade of 97red. The fans filled their seats and talked amongst themselves as the production crew made some final preparations.
There was a small pop from the crowd as HOW Interviewer Brian Bare walked out onto the stage. Bare had a stack of index cards in his hand and took a seat in one of the leather chairs. A production assistant began to place a microphone on his shirt. Bare makes small talk with the production assistant who doesn’t seem interested in anything that he has to say.
There is a louder pop but mostly boos as the LSD and ICON Champion makes his way out onto the stage. He had both Championship belts with him as he passed Bare and sat down in the other seat. Jace began to sit his belts upright on the wooden table between the two chairs before another production assistant appeared on stage. She leans over and begins to place a microphone on the collar of Jace’s shirt. Bare turns and tries to make small talk with Jace but the LSD Champion ignores him.
After a few moments, all the assistants leave the stage and Bare is given a countdown. He clears his throat obnoxiously and rubs over his nose. The countdown reaches zero and the cameras start recording.
“Welcome ladies and gentlemen here to Cleveland, Ohio.” Bare pauses as the crowd in the studio scream. “I’m Brian Bare and I’m here to conduct a special interview because I’m just as important to HOW as Blaire Moise is. The only difference is that I sucked dick for crack, not a Hall of Fame ring!”
The crowd goes instantly silent as Jace shakes his head.
“Simmah down, Admiral Booger Sugar.” Jace said in a condescending tone.
“We’re here because the Lethal Lottery comes to you live from the Rocket Mortgage Fieldhouse. Three Championship belts will be on the line along with a rumored Steel Cage match.” Bare leans back in his seat as the crowd cheers. “Please welcome my guest, the LSD Champion Jace Parker Davidson.”
The crowd begins to boo a bit.
“Well, I’m fucking here.” Jace says as he spreads his arms wide. “I’m doing autographs signings, taking pictures with these horrible people. I’m promoting the event, shaking hands, and kissing babies. All of that happy hippy fucking bullshit that everyone loves!”
Jace leans back in his seat and crosses one of his legs over the other. The crowd boos louder as Bare decides to move forward with the interview.
“Let’s talk about the Lethal Lottery tomorrow night and the fact that you’ll be defining the LSD Championship belt. Who do you think your opponent will be?” Bare tried to act professionally.
“Who the fuck cares?” The LSD Champion answered in an annoyed tone.
Bare sits there and blinks a couple of times trying to process the answer from the Champion that he was not expecting.
“You don’t care about who your opponent is?” Bare stammered.
“Should I?” Jace posed the question to the interviewer. “It could be anyone. Any given person on the roster or maybe someone not on the roster at all. What would be the point of sitting here with my fingers crossed while mumbling about how I hope it’s Xander Azula? I have to be prepared for literally anyone. So, no, I don’t give a fuck who the opponent happens to be. All I care about is going into this event tomorrow night. Breaking them down both mentally and physically before getting the fuck out of Cleveland with MY LSD Championship belt.”
The fans in attendance begin a ‘Fuck You’ chant towards Davidson.
“It’s been reported that you effectively ended the working relationship you had with Michael Lee Best’s TEN-X Wrestling. Can you explain to us what happened and what brought this up out of the blue?” Bare files through his index cards as Jace answers.
“I’m a busy fucking man with goals and ambitions I need to accomplish. I decided that instead of trying to keep someone else’s project on fucking life support while getting zero credit for doing so. That I would focus on my investments and ventures where I get full praise and credit for the time and dedication I put into it.” Jace shrugged his shoulders.
“TEN-X Wrestling was supposed to be a staple in Chicago, along with the Best Arena. A place that would pump out young talented wrestlers that would one day fill the roster of HOW. Don’t you feel bad at all about giving up on that?” Bare leaned against the arm of his seat trying to look like he was asking the tough questions.
“Meh, not really.” Jace cocked his head to the side. “Again, TEN-X Wrestling wasn’t my venture it was Mike’s brainchild. I did everything that I could to keep the lights on and the money flowing in but tell me. How many HOW wrestlers bothered to use the facilities at TEN-X? How many HOW stars or Hall of Famers lifted a fucking finger to go and guest host a training session at TEN-X?”
Jace looks over at Bare waiting for an answer.
“Don’t hurt yourself trying to count, I’ll tell you.” Just holds up his right hand and forms a number with it. “A big fat fucking zero. Farthington cares more about himself than he does helping anyone else. Dan Ryan was kind of there, but not really. Lindsay Troy would be out back hiding behind the dumpsters trying to poach a student or two for PRIME. But outside of me and the students that I brought in? The place was deader than Chris Kostoff.”
Another loud chorus of boos from the fans in attendance.
“Oh, yeah you don’t like that, but fucking deal with it.” Jace fired back. “Look at all the people on the HOW roster. Joe Bergman saw fit to train people in a smelly goddamn barn rather than to swallow his pride and help teach future HOW wrestlers in a state-of-the-art facility like TEN-X Wrestling. That’s your man of the people for you. Clay Byrd, Steve Solex, Steven Harrison, and even Xander Azula all would have rather traveled to fuck your sister in the ass Missouri and train in a fucking barn than to put use to TEN-X Wrestling.”
“I don’t think–” Jace holds up his hand to interrupt Bare.
“Did you think Michael Lee Best cared? Do you think Lee Best bothered to step foot inside the building one fucking time? Of course not.”
Jace jabs his index finger down into the arm of his seat.
“None of them cared, so, why should I? I don’t live in Chicago. I have a home in both Miami and Denver. Why go out of my way for other people and their failed ideas when those same people can’t even have my back in this business or outside of it? As far as I’m concerned? TEN-X is done but soon, very soon, I am going to be opening my place that’s going to serve as a gym and a wrestling school. But not some gimmicky bullshit like TEN-X or whatever failed wrestling school that John Sektor opened and let die faster than his last tenure in HOW.”
A smirk tugged at Jace’s lips.
“My school is going to train the brightest and best young talent out there. But not just for HOW, and not just for professional wrestling. Wrestling, Football, Baseball, Basketball, pretty much anything you can think of out there we’ll be doing. The Kingdom is going to be a place where people all over the world will gather to better themselves and prepare for the profession of their choice. I’m looking to change the entire landscape of athletics. Not just have a cute little workout place in Chicago that no one outside of HOW has ever heard of before.”
“Since the PWA 01 event took place it seems as if you’ve been a little gruntled with how things are being done here in High Octane Wrestling.” Bare approached the subject carefully.
“Don’t be a pussy, Brian.” Jace exhaled. “What you’re trying to ask me is, why am I fucking pissed off with the way things are in HOW?”
“Well, yes.” Bare nodded.
“You want answers? Look back at what I said the other day. Look at what happened at PWA 01 and what I said since that night. The fact of the matter is that I work way too fucking hard and give way too much of myself to get the shit end of the stick in return.”
Jace leaned forward in his seat.
“I’ve had 97red racing through my veins for a long fucking time and yet, it’s guys like Darin Zion, Joe Bergman, Clay Byrd, Xander Azula, or some other relic from the past that gets all the praise, attention, or pats on the back. These are the guys whose ugly mugs are plastered all over the promotional material for the shows. Conor Fuse has been in this company for how many years? Not only did he get to be on the cover of the video game, but there is talk about him being an early induction into the Hall of Fame.”
Jace balls his hand into a fist and shows off his Hall of Fame ring.
“The same Hall of Fame that I had to almost die to get inducted into. The same Hall of Fame that when Michael Lee Best didn’t get into, he threw the hissy fits of all hissy fits, then magically got in the very next year. The Hall of Fame where Cecilworth Farthington was inducted before me on the back of one World Championship reign, an ICON Championship reign, and a Tag Team Championship reign? It makes me physically fucking ill!”
Jace mimes gagging.
“Joe Bergman, Steve Solex, and even Scott Goddamn Stevens all got into the HOW Hall of Fame before me. The three of those motherfuckers combined don’t have the stats and accomplishments that I do inside of the ring. But every single one of them got all the praise in the world or got fucking voted in by their peers over me. So, tell me why am I pissed off, Bare?!?!?”
Jace shouts towards the interviewer who flinches a bit. Jace pulls his HOW Hall of Fame ring off of his finger.
“Tell me what fucking value this damn thing has, huh? Why should I wear this thing around proudly when it doesn’t make me any fucking better than your Scottywoods, Ryan Fazes, Scott Stevens, Steve Solexs, and Farthingtons of the world? If I was going to be lumped together with each of them, then I might as well have stayed fucking retired. But I didn’t. I worked and damn near bent over backward to get back to this. To do this once again, but fuck me, has it been worth it at all?”
Jace snaps his head over towards the crowd for an answer but one doesn’t come.
“Sure, I am the LSD Champion, I’m the GREATEST LSD Champion that ever lived. Yet, somewhere out there inside of a run-down Denny’s dumpster, there is a man with one of these little rings, that walks around calling himself the ‘LSD Legend.’ And everyone in HOW and all of you people praise him for that. You call him that more than you call him back his actual fucking name. That is the kind of disrespect that I deal with daily. Makes me wish I had decided to go to Hollywood and did one of those big-time movies or TV shows that all the other wrestlers on Twitter are doing. Maybe I should find out when casting beings for the Aquaman 2 movie.”
Jace slams the Hall of Fame ring down onto the wooden table then folds his arms across his chest.
“It sounds like you’ve had a lot of this building up inside of you for a long–” Once again Jace interrupts Bare.
“That I’m venting? That I’m bitching about everything under the sun? Or maybe I’m chasing the hug? I’m pretty sure that’s how it’s going to be taken by my wonderful colleagues and boss. I’m sure there’ll be a box of Kleenex waiting for me in my locker room tomorrow night.” Jace rolls his eyes. “It’s always Jace doing something that’s not taken seriously, but it’s never ‘hey, Jace has a fucking point.’”
“And your point is that even though you’re a HOW Hall of Famer. Even though you’re the last ever ICON Champion and the GREATEST LSD Champion, you’re somehow overlooked?” Bare chuckles after asking the question which only causes Jace to leap from his seat toward the interviewer.
Bare curls into a fetal position and lets out a girlish scream as Jace reaches for his throat. However, the LSD Champion stops short and then composes himself. Jace smiles a crooked grin and then lowers himself back into his seat.
“Let me ask you something, Brian. If you were to create an Mt. Rushmore of HOW wrestlers, just who would be on it?” Jace has a calm and chilling tone to his voice.
Bare uncoils from his protective ball of safety and then takes a moment to ponder the question.
“I guess I would have to start with Michael Lee Best. Then you have to put Chris Kostoff up there. Then Christopher America, and finally Max Kael.” Bare pauses and then nods his head. “That’s my HOW Mt. Rushmore.”
“Wrong.” Jace hissed.
“Excuse me?” Bare raised his eyebrow.
“I said it’s wrong. That’s an inaccurate Mt. Rushmore. It doesn’t have me on it.” Jace confessed.
“You think you belong on the HOW Mt. Rushmore?” Bare seemed skeptical.
“Ask yourself, Bare. Why NOT me? Why not Jace Parker Davidson?” Jace leaned across his chair toward Bare.
“Well, because of the fact of the four wrestlers that I named already.” Bare responds. “Not to mention all the other names in contention for it like John Sektor, Aceldama, Rhys Townsend, among others.”
“And your reasons for those names are what exactly?” Jace pressed further.
Bare sat there and blinked toward the LSD Champion not sure at all how to answer.
“Let me put it in simpler terms for you.” Jace rubbed his hand over his chin. “Name four HOW wrestlers who are more successful or decorated than me.”
“Michael Lee Best.” Bare began using his fingers to count. “Then there’s…”
“Correct!” Jace exclaimed as he sank back into his seat. “There is a total of one, Michael Lee Best won 10 HOW World Championship belts. Then there is no one else that eclipses my accomplishments in HOW. I am the second most decorated wrestler in HOW history, so, again, why am I not in the conversation for the Mt. Rushmore of HOW?”
“Christopher America!” Bare shouted. “He’s won three different War Games matches!”
Bare smirks like he just solved the Rubiks cube, but Jace just laughs.
“Bobbinette Carey also won a War Games match, but that’s a bad example.” Jace takes a few breaths to stop laughing. “Three War Games matches is impressive, but correct me If I’m wrong. Isn’t War Games a team event? Isn’t War Games at its very core, a match where you need the help of an entire roster to win? When is the last time a one-man team walked into War Games and walked out victorious?”
“Never.” Bare mumbles after thinking about it.
“You’re learning.” Jace points at Bare. “Christoper America broke the record by winning War Games last year, but let’s say that I decided to just take my ball and go home last year. Would Christopher America have won War Games? The answer is no. And even with me giving it my all in that match, Christopher America only co-won that match. Christopher America and Tyler Adrian Best got all the credit, but where was my credit?”
Bare had no idea how to respond.
“All I got was a DM from Christopher America saying thanks for showing up. That’s fucking it.” Jace runs his fingers through his hair. “Utter disrespect for someone that can do the things that I do. I was disrespected before the War Games match even happened. I was picked in the War Games draft in the 4th round. The 4th fucking round!”
“That’s because you had just come off an injury.” Bare added.
“Correction, I had almost died.” Jace scoffed. “Yet, even then, If I’m breathing and able to walk, then that makes me better than 90% of the people in this entire company. Cecilworth Farthington was picked ahead of me. Arthur Pleasant was picked ahead of me. John Sektor was picked ahead of me. Jeffrey James Roberts was picked ahead of me. And fucking Bobbinette Carey was picked ahead of me for that match.”
The crowd cheers wildly at the mention of the hometown girl.
“Oh, shut the fuck up!” Jace yelled at the fans in the studio before turning back toward Bare. “Did Farthington appear in last year’s War Games match? Not until the very fucking end to help screw over Conor Fuse. What about John Sektor? Arthur Pleasant? Jeffrey James Roberts? Not a single fucking one of them appeared in the War Games match. The only one that came close was Bobbinette Carey and she didn’t even make it to the actual War Games match because Steve Harrison broke his foot off in her ass.”
Loud boos from the Cleveland fans.
“If you can’t see the disrespect then you’re all dumber than you look.” Jace stated confidently. “But all over you think Christopher America is way better than I am. Just like you thought Farthington, Sektor, Roberts, and all the rest were better than me. The moment Bobbinette Carey waddles her Fat Albert-looking ass onto the screen tomorrow night, you’ll all cheer as if the Browns made it to the Super Bowl. That’ll never happen, just like Bobbinette Carey ever being better than me.”
The crowd begins chanting for the Browns.
“Dis-fucking-respectful. Absolutely trifling.” Jace sneered before grabbing a hold of the LSD Championship belt. He places it over his shoulder and then twirls his hand. “But I’m supposed to just take it and do my job. I’m supposed to tow the company line. So, ask me about the Lethal Lottery, ask me about the LSD Championship belt.”
Bare fumbles through his index cards trying to find an appropriate question.
“If your match ends up being the Steel Cage match, will that alter the way you approach facing your opponent?” Brian takes a drink from his mug.
“Absolutely not.” Jace leaned his head back at the sheer stupidity of the question. “I am the LSD Champion. Every single match I defend this title in becomes a massacre of some sort. All these other so-called wrestlers work hard and want it badly. They think they are entitled to it and more just because they show up to work each week. Not only do I show up, but I put my life on the line for HOW. I put my life on the line for YOUR entertainment and all ask in return is the recognition that I’ve earned ten times over.”
The crowd shouts the word ‘Die’ towards the LSD Champion.
“And I would. I absolutely would in the blink of a fucking eye.” Jace points to the audience. “But not for you, I would die for this belt. I would die for the recognition I earned and to cement my fucking legacy in this business. But even that wouldn’t be enough, would it? I’m tired of sitting back and waiting for my rightful respect as one of the best ever. I’m tired of it being dangled above my head like a fucking carrot. So, now I have to resort to darker methods.”
Jace’s tone gets lower and more threatening.
“I will start taking what is rightfully mine, even if that means stomping on all of your hopes and dreams. Even if that means kicking GOD himself in the balls and pissing down his throat. I’ve risen above and beyond for recognition and respect, but all of you are too swallow to give it to me. So, if you won’t respect me, I will teach you all to fear me once again. If that means leaving the decapitated heads of my victims on the outside of each arena HOW travels to as a reminder of just the fuck I am? Then so be it.”
“I faced death itself in pursuit of the hug. All each of you did was shove a knife in my back and shovel dirt onto my grave while I was still breathing. I was willing to die for this at one point. Now, it’ll be someone out of all of you, that will die for YOUR sins.”
“YOU did this. But I’ll bend over backward one more time. I’ll put their blood on my hands just so you can continue to live in ignorance. Bring forth the poor motherfucker that happens to get a shot at my title. Say a prayer for his or her soul. Their remains will be the first of many that I use to build my throne. Their sacrifice will be in the name of proving to you that this title is not a secondary Championship belt.”
“And then when it’s all said and done. When the bodies line the very streets of ‘The Land’ you’ll be forced to kneel before your King.”
Jace grabs a hold of the ICON Championship off of the wooden table and tosses it over his other shoulder. He grabs a hold of the Hall of Fame ring and tosses it to Bare.
“You wanted in the Hall of Fame? Congratu-fucking-lations.” Jace yanks the microphone from his shirt and storms off stage.
Bare catches the ring and his eyes grow wide as he stares down at it.
“Finally!” Bare has tears in his eyes.
He goes to place it on his finger, but suddenly, gets the taste slapped out of his mouth by Jace. Bare slumps over lifelessly as Jace takes the ring back.
“You think I was just going to give it to you? Go fuck yourself.” Jace places the ring back on his finger and storms off again as the scene fades.