Post by burke on Jul 23, 2012 14:31:40 GMT -5
Handler Info
Name
Niall
Age
21
Efed Experience in years
8 or 9, I’ve lost track by now
Email and IM's - optional
dolphseagal@twistededge.co.uk - MSN
Wrestler Info
Wrestlers Name
Burke
Nicknames
Mr. Armbar
Home Town
Montreal, QC, Canada
Gender
Male
Age
29 (born September 19th, 1982)
Height
6’1”
Weight
220lbs.
Pic Base
Tyler Black
Entrance Music
“The Ecstasy of Gold” - Ennio Morricone
Entrance
“The Ecstasy of Gold” begins to build slowly over the PA system, as the arena darkens slightly, though not totally, and a spotlight illuminates the entrance. As the vocals begin, and the music begins to build to a crescendo, Burke slowly makes his way onto the ramp, decked in a long, flowing robe, with “Mr. Armbar” adorned across the back. He stands silently atop the ramp, overlooking the crowd, and allowing the music to continue to build, before marching confidently towards the ring.
He climbs the steps, walks along the apron, and stops to once more look over the crowd, before he wipes his feet, and climbs through the ropes. Now inside the ring, he crosses to the opposite side, arms out at his side, basking in the attention of the fans, before he begins to disrobe, and stretch in preparation for the match.
Alignment
Heel
Wrestling Style
Judo/Submissions
General Moves
Armbar
Japanese Armbreaker
Hammerlock Scoopslam
Keylock
Arm Whip
Armbreaker
Shoulderlock
Various Judo Hiptosses, Trips and Throws
Chickenwing
Buffalo Sleeper
STO
Reverse DDT
Signature Moves
Vitualamen (Shoulderbreaker)
Sacrificium (Fujiwara Armbar)
The Moss-Covered Three-Handled Family Gredenza (Juji Gatame)
Finishers
Dolce et Decorum (Standing Armbar)
Poenitentia (Kimura)
Biography
Born in the Republic of Ireland, Burke began his career in 2003 shortly before he turned 20 years old, under the name Asylum. Originally an enhancement talent for a local promotion in Newcastle, England, where he studied psychology, he later found a niche in the promotions Xtreme Division, capturing the title five times. On completion of his degree, he emigrated to Montreal, Canada, where he began to tour various North American independents.
Burke also founded his own federation, WRW, which later became a brand of UCW, around this time. He rarely competed or appeared on-screen, and instead worked backstage as a producer and booker, with financial partner JP Foley overseeing the companies day-to-day operations. Burke also trained younger wrestlers during this period, and the company is known for giving breaks to numerous stars, including current NCW Champion, The Legendary Hero Alfred.
Touring the Southern United States and Mexico, Burke typically performed as part of a duo, The Inmates, with Damien Riggs, and together the pair captured the WOF, FTW, and, following the two promotions merging, the FTWO Tag Team Championships, before Riggs retired in 2007, prompting Burke to leave FTWO. As a singles competitor, Burke struggled to shake off his reputation as a garbage wrestler, and signed a developmental deal with GCW, where he competed in the companies developmental territory, GPW. Again he was utilized as an enhancement talent at first, before again finding his feet in an Xtreme Division.
Burke’s development continued and later he joined the group Platinum Plus, alongside GPW Tag Team Champions Pyro and Mitch Xtreme. The group was later torn apart as GPW was split into two regions, GPW US and GPW Canada, Asylum being drafted to Canada. As GCW ran into financial troubles, most of GPW was let go, and the development system was folded, with Asylum becoming GPW World Champion on the last show, defeating former teammate Xtreme before being one of the few names called up to the main roster.
After impressing in the GCW undercard for over a year, he was taken under the wing of former GCW Champion, The Harbinger and together the pair captured the GCW Tag Team Championship on two occasions. Together the duo were known for their ultraviolent style and frequent bloody battles. Burke also captured the GCW Intercontinental Championship, and ended the undefeated streak of Michael Hunter at WrestlingHysteria, the company’s biggest event, which Hunter had won at every year since the company had been founded.
Following GCW’s closure, Burke continued to wrestle on the independent scene, as both Asylum and Sylence eventually amassing 13 World Championships, as well as multiple Tag Team and undercard belts, before leaving the wrestling business and taking up Mixed Martial Arts in Japan, where he amassed a 3-0 record, defeating all his opponents via armbar.
Burke made a brief return to wrestling in late 2010, under his surname, and though he managed to capture a United States Championship, the promotion he was competing in soon ran into financial difficulties and was closed. After 18 months out, Burke now returns for one more run.
He has long since abandoned both a traditional wrestling style as well as the hardcore style he originally gained fame utilizing, and instead focuses extensively on using his Judoka background to take opponents to the ground and submit them by focusing on their arms. He generally employs standard professional wrestling maneuvers only when dragged into a fight, though he does everything in his power to avoid this, including cheating, or flat out refusing to engage the opponent.
Sample RP
From an old RP...
November 23rd, 2010 Las Vegas, Nevada
McCarran International Airport, Las Vegas. The sun hung low in the early morning sky, as Steve Burke waited by the gate which he was soon to board on his way to New York City, stretched as much as he could, desperately trying to shake the cobwebs. Early starts had never been Burke's thing, but, he supposed that once in a while, it was acceptable, so long as he wasn't drunk. He had spent most of the previous evening with Maxwell, who had ensured his cash-cow had remained sober, and would be in proper order, as the last thing either of them needed now was to be refused the right a plane, due to Burke being drunk and disorderly.
Besides, this was an airport a public place, full of swarming children, teens and other common folk – the plebeians far more likely to recognize him than the intelligentsia and aristocrats that are to be found in a swanky Las Vegas casino. The aroma of a freshly brewed coffee filled his nostrils, and he greeted it by bring his head from it's resting position, leaning over the back of the seat, to a level position, where he found Maxwell, holding two cups, a newspaper under his arm, and what appeared to be a couple of large chocolate chip cookies, hanging from a clear bag around his wrist.
”Take it, come on, I've got my hands full here.”
Burke duly obliged him, took his coffee, and sipped from it, hoping that the caffeine contained within would give him the boost he felt he needed, in order to survive an entire flight with Maxwell sitting by his side. Maxwell handed Burke a cookie, which he took, without even so much as a thank you, and bit into, happy to have a breakfast of some kind, having been late to wake.
”So are we feeling this morning, kid?”
”Fine.”
”You're ready for Hail to the Victors, then?”
“Well, not quite, but, I'm getting there, I can assure you.”
Max stared with concern, shook his head, and opened the newspaper, and began to pretend to read, while still counseling Burke.
”See to it that you do, Steven. There's a lot of money to be made if you win the World Title.”
”Yeah? Well, who says I'm going to win it? Who says I'm even going to be involved in the match? That isn't up to me, you know. I'll find out when everyone else does.”
”I think I know a way to secure you a spot.”
”Yeah? You gonna grease up Kraven's palms or something?”
”That wasn't what I had in mind. I was thinking that you could, I dunno, show them that you can be what they want in a Champion, that you can sell tickets, sell merchandise, be the face of the company! You know, show some more charisma, show a little pizzaz in there! Think of the first match as an audition! Dazzle them!”
”Excuse me? Pizzaz? Maybe you've forgotten who I am, and what I do, Max. I'm Steve Burke, and I break arms. If the monkeys in the stands don't like it, then, that's too bad, because I'm not going to change. Now shut up and drink your coffee Max, before it gets cold.”
November 24th, 2010 New York City, New York
He grunted, as he buried his knee deep into the gut of the punching bag. Beads of sweat dripped down his forehead, his soaked hair now sticking to his face, as he continued to push himself, doing anything and everything that he possibly could to work through the pain, to remain focused. He pictured the bag as if it were an opponent, one against whom, he had been tasked with defeating, without utilizing his armbars and shoulderlocks.
There was an odd sense of desperation about the way he carried himself, a sense that something was amiss, as he wearily took a step back, and launched a kick towards where the ribs of a human would be located. ”Keep fighting,” he screamed to himself within his head, almost as if he hoped to draw himself into a hallucination – to convince himself that this punching bag was, in fact, a Genocide, or Anna Laroo Raith.
He had told himself he would prepare physically, though not to an overwhelming degree, while in Las Vegas, but had only managed one workout – and that was really more of a cardiovascular workout than anything. He had slacked off, and he knew it, and now it was time to pay the price. Better he suffer now than find himself incapable of performing underneath the bright lights the next day, on live Pay Per View.
He told himself that pain was fleeting, and glory forever, though he didn't believe it. How could he, considering he lived with mental anguish every day, and no glory could ever hope to smother that? His eyes drifted up towards the clock hanging across the room, and, finding that he had been training for a few hours, he stepped back, exhausted, and conceded defeat to the immortal, unstoppable punching bag. He grabbed his towel and the near-empty bottle of once-cold water, and turned to leave the gym.
Now the fear was setting in. Now the worry of his own inadequacy was seeping into every fibre of his fragile being. Tomorrow he could be crowned a King, but he would rather be crowned a killer, a crippler.
Name
Niall
Age
21
Efed Experience in years
8 or 9, I’ve lost track by now
Email and IM's - optional
dolphseagal@twistededge.co.uk - MSN
Wrestler Info
Wrestlers Name
Burke
Nicknames
Mr. Armbar
Home Town
Montreal, QC, Canada
Gender
Male
Age
29 (born September 19th, 1982)
Height
6’1”
Weight
220lbs.
Pic Base
Tyler Black
Entrance Music
“The Ecstasy of Gold” - Ennio Morricone
Entrance
“The Ecstasy of Gold” begins to build slowly over the PA system, as the arena darkens slightly, though not totally, and a spotlight illuminates the entrance. As the vocals begin, and the music begins to build to a crescendo, Burke slowly makes his way onto the ramp, decked in a long, flowing robe, with “Mr. Armbar” adorned across the back. He stands silently atop the ramp, overlooking the crowd, and allowing the music to continue to build, before marching confidently towards the ring.
He climbs the steps, walks along the apron, and stops to once more look over the crowd, before he wipes his feet, and climbs through the ropes. Now inside the ring, he crosses to the opposite side, arms out at his side, basking in the attention of the fans, before he begins to disrobe, and stretch in preparation for the match.
Alignment
Heel
Wrestling Style
Judo/Submissions
General Moves
Armbar
Japanese Armbreaker
Hammerlock Scoopslam
Keylock
Arm Whip
Armbreaker
Shoulderlock
Various Judo Hiptosses, Trips and Throws
Chickenwing
Buffalo Sleeper
STO
Reverse DDT
Signature Moves
Vitualamen (Shoulderbreaker)
Sacrificium (Fujiwara Armbar)
The Moss-Covered Three-Handled Family Gredenza (Juji Gatame)
Finishers
Dolce et Decorum (Standing Armbar)
Poenitentia (Kimura)
Biography
Born in the Republic of Ireland, Burke began his career in 2003 shortly before he turned 20 years old, under the name Asylum. Originally an enhancement talent for a local promotion in Newcastle, England, where he studied psychology, he later found a niche in the promotions Xtreme Division, capturing the title five times. On completion of his degree, he emigrated to Montreal, Canada, where he began to tour various North American independents.
Burke also founded his own federation, WRW, which later became a brand of UCW, around this time. He rarely competed or appeared on-screen, and instead worked backstage as a producer and booker, with financial partner JP Foley overseeing the companies day-to-day operations. Burke also trained younger wrestlers during this period, and the company is known for giving breaks to numerous stars, including current NCW Champion, The Legendary Hero Alfred.
Touring the Southern United States and Mexico, Burke typically performed as part of a duo, The Inmates, with Damien Riggs, and together the pair captured the WOF, FTW, and, following the two promotions merging, the FTWO Tag Team Championships, before Riggs retired in 2007, prompting Burke to leave FTWO. As a singles competitor, Burke struggled to shake off his reputation as a garbage wrestler, and signed a developmental deal with GCW, where he competed in the companies developmental territory, GPW. Again he was utilized as an enhancement talent at first, before again finding his feet in an Xtreme Division.
Burke’s development continued and later he joined the group Platinum Plus, alongside GPW Tag Team Champions Pyro and Mitch Xtreme. The group was later torn apart as GPW was split into two regions, GPW US and GPW Canada, Asylum being drafted to Canada. As GCW ran into financial troubles, most of GPW was let go, and the development system was folded, with Asylum becoming GPW World Champion on the last show, defeating former teammate Xtreme before being one of the few names called up to the main roster.
After impressing in the GCW undercard for over a year, he was taken under the wing of former GCW Champion, The Harbinger and together the pair captured the GCW Tag Team Championship on two occasions. Together the duo were known for their ultraviolent style and frequent bloody battles. Burke also captured the GCW Intercontinental Championship, and ended the undefeated streak of Michael Hunter at WrestlingHysteria, the company’s biggest event, which Hunter had won at every year since the company had been founded.
Following GCW’s closure, Burke continued to wrestle on the independent scene, as both Asylum and Sylence eventually amassing 13 World Championships, as well as multiple Tag Team and undercard belts, before leaving the wrestling business and taking up Mixed Martial Arts in Japan, where he amassed a 3-0 record, defeating all his opponents via armbar.
Burke made a brief return to wrestling in late 2010, under his surname, and though he managed to capture a United States Championship, the promotion he was competing in soon ran into financial difficulties and was closed. After 18 months out, Burke now returns for one more run.
He has long since abandoned both a traditional wrestling style as well as the hardcore style he originally gained fame utilizing, and instead focuses extensively on using his Judoka background to take opponents to the ground and submit them by focusing on their arms. He generally employs standard professional wrestling maneuvers only when dragged into a fight, though he does everything in his power to avoid this, including cheating, or flat out refusing to engage the opponent.
Sample RP
From an old RP...
November 23rd, 2010 Las Vegas, Nevada
McCarran International Airport, Las Vegas. The sun hung low in the early morning sky, as Steve Burke waited by the gate which he was soon to board on his way to New York City, stretched as much as he could, desperately trying to shake the cobwebs. Early starts had never been Burke's thing, but, he supposed that once in a while, it was acceptable, so long as he wasn't drunk. He had spent most of the previous evening with Maxwell, who had ensured his cash-cow had remained sober, and would be in proper order, as the last thing either of them needed now was to be refused the right a plane, due to Burke being drunk and disorderly.
Besides, this was an airport a public place, full of swarming children, teens and other common folk – the plebeians far more likely to recognize him than the intelligentsia and aristocrats that are to be found in a swanky Las Vegas casino. The aroma of a freshly brewed coffee filled his nostrils, and he greeted it by bring his head from it's resting position, leaning over the back of the seat, to a level position, where he found Maxwell, holding two cups, a newspaper under his arm, and what appeared to be a couple of large chocolate chip cookies, hanging from a clear bag around his wrist.
”Take it, come on, I've got my hands full here.”
Burke duly obliged him, took his coffee, and sipped from it, hoping that the caffeine contained within would give him the boost he felt he needed, in order to survive an entire flight with Maxwell sitting by his side. Maxwell handed Burke a cookie, which he took, without even so much as a thank you, and bit into, happy to have a breakfast of some kind, having been late to wake.
”So are we feeling this morning, kid?”
”Fine.”
”You're ready for Hail to the Victors, then?”
“Well, not quite, but, I'm getting there, I can assure you.”
Max stared with concern, shook his head, and opened the newspaper, and began to pretend to read, while still counseling Burke.
”See to it that you do, Steven. There's a lot of money to be made if you win the World Title.”
”Yeah? Well, who says I'm going to win it? Who says I'm even going to be involved in the match? That isn't up to me, you know. I'll find out when everyone else does.”
”I think I know a way to secure you a spot.”
”Yeah? You gonna grease up Kraven's palms or something?”
”That wasn't what I had in mind. I was thinking that you could, I dunno, show them that you can be what they want in a Champion, that you can sell tickets, sell merchandise, be the face of the company! You know, show some more charisma, show a little pizzaz in there! Think of the first match as an audition! Dazzle them!”
”Excuse me? Pizzaz? Maybe you've forgotten who I am, and what I do, Max. I'm Steve Burke, and I break arms. If the monkeys in the stands don't like it, then, that's too bad, because I'm not going to change. Now shut up and drink your coffee Max, before it gets cold.”
November 24th, 2010 New York City, New York
He grunted, as he buried his knee deep into the gut of the punching bag. Beads of sweat dripped down his forehead, his soaked hair now sticking to his face, as he continued to push himself, doing anything and everything that he possibly could to work through the pain, to remain focused. He pictured the bag as if it were an opponent, one against whom, he had been tasked with defeating, without utilizing his armbars and shoulderlocks.
There was an odd sense of desperation about the way he carried himself, a sense that something was amiss, as he wearily took a step back, and launched a kick towards where the ribs of a human would be located. ”Keep fighting,” he screamed to himself within his head, almost as if he hoped to draw himself into a hallucination – to convince himself that this punching bag was, in fact, a Genocide, or Anna Laroo Raith.
He had told himself he would prepare physically, though not to an overwhelming degree, while in Las Vegas, but had only managed one workout – and that was really more of a cardiovascular workout than anything. He had slacked off, and he knew it, and now it was time to pay the price. Better he suffer now than find himself incapable of performing underneath the bright lights the next day, on live Pay Per View.
He told himself that pain was fleeting, and glory forever, though he didn't believe it. How could he, considering he lived with mental anguish every day, and no glory could ever hope to smother that? His eyes drifted up towards the clock hanging across the room, and, finding that he had been training for a few hours, he stepped back, exhausted, and conceded defeat to the immortal, unstoppable punching bag. He grabbed his towel and the near-empty bottle of once-cold water, and turned to leave the gym.
Now the fear was setting in. Now the worry of his own inadequacy was seeping into every fibre of his fragile being. Tomorrow he could be crowned a King, but he would rather be crowned a killer, a crippler.
