Duality

“Trust me, kid. If you want to wrestle in Mexico, you’ve got to have a mask.”

Indy looked at himself in the stand-up mirror, perfectly content with everything he saw from the neck down. The tights, boots, and entrance vest had become a second skin to him by this point, but the blue and white lucha mask covering his face felt awkward and out-of-place. It had been hand-stitched with great care by his mother’s housekeeper, Carlita DeSantos, who along with her husband, Miguel, were the main reasons he agreed to the tour of Mexico in the first place. Of course, he thought he would be competing as Indy Darling, not under the alias of White Lightning, or as he would be known in Mexico, Relámpago Blanco. Not only were the mask and identity new aspects to his young wrestling career, but the match he was scheduled to compete in was just as foreign to Indy as he was to the Mexican audience.

“I don’t know, Doc. I’ve always gone to the ring as myself with the volume turned up. This just feels so strange. Then there’s this whole “Juniors Trios” thing. I’m not sure if a six-man tag is the best way for me to start learning the lucha style.”

“It’s the perfect way for you to learn! Consider it a trial by fire! Besides, your partners are well-versed in these matches. Just do your thing when you’re in the ring and if you get in over your head, all you have to do is roll to the outside. There’s no tags necessary in this one, kid.”

Indy continued to adjust his mask in the mirror, trying to find a balance between seeing clearly past the edges of the fabric while still looking presentable.

“That's another thing. Halcón Negro and Tigre Secreto? Neither of them speak English and I don’t speak Spanish. On top of that, they both work a lot closer to heel than me. Are you sure I can trust them?”

Doc Miyagi waved off Indy’s concerns along with an audible scoff.

“Those guys are pros. As long as you don’t cost them the match, you’ll be just fine.”

Indy turned away from the mirror to give his manager a look of concern.

“And if I do cost them the match?”

“Well, you might take a few lumps, but at least you’ll have an automatic storyline going into the next card.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better…”

Doc stood up from his metal folding chair and moved to Indy’s side. The much shorter Asian man put his arm around Indy, forcing him to turn his attention back to the mirror. Admiring their reflection, the aging trainer continued to offer his pupil some advice.

“Let me explain the gimmick to you again. So Black Falcon, that’s Halcón Negro, he’s an all-out heel. He’s going to cheat and fight dirty. It’s just in the guys’ nature. Now Tigre Secreto, he’s more of a tweener. He might do things out there that you wouldn’t do, but he won’t go to the extremes that Falcon will. Then there’s you, a natural babyface no matter how much you try to fight it. You’re joining them as Relámpago Blanco, a white-meat good guy through and through. Now putting the three of you on a team may seem like a risk, but it’s also something the audience hasn’t seen before. The whole idea is that the three of you will balance each other out and blend your three styles into something the fans can get behind. You’re all great workers in the ring, but the addition of wondering whether or not you can work together will give your matches that extra edge of intrigue. If it doesn’t work, at least we took a risk and tried something new, but if it does work, the three of you might just have some Junior Trios gold in your future. I don’t think you need me to tell you what winning a championship in Mexico could do for your career back in the states.”

Indy let out a heavy sigh, silently acknowledging that his manager's words were making sense. His dad had always told him that it was necessary to take risks in order to make it in the business. The dual natures of good and evil were nothing new in wrestling, and no matter how much Doc tried to sell it, Indy knew that the idea of unlikely partners was also well-established. Still, it made Indy think about another lesson his father once imparted, a lesson about the natural duality inside every man and woman, and how a competitor must choose which of those natures to present to the world…




“You’re a good man, Clive.”

Hearing the promoter say that to his dad made 9-year-old Indy beam from cheek to cheek. He knew his dad was a good man, but to hear it from another adult was the kind of affirmation that an impressionable boy loved to hear. As Clive took the envelope of cash from the promoter and shook the man’s hand, Indy listened to Clive Darling offer his thanks for the opportunity, even if that opportunity had ended with Clive taking the fall after 20 grueling minutes of action.

“Next time you’re in the area, just let me know. I’ll always have a place on the card for a worker like you.”

Indy continued to smile as his father said his goodbyes and slid the envelope of cash into his pants pocket without bothering to count it. Not long after, father and son would make their way into the parking lot, with young Indy thinking about the Happy Meal that would soon be in his possession. Yet despite his growling stomach, Indy also had some questions that just couldn’t wait until after a late dinner. He had seen enough matches to understand that some of the wrestlers were booed while others were cheered, but after watching his dad take the loss, Indy was surprised to see the man who had been his partner in the match attack him after the bell.

“Dad, why did Dick Smiley use his DDT on you? Weren’t you supposed to be partners?”

With a half-smile, the British immigrant ruffled the short hair on his son’s head.

“It’s kind of hard to explain, Nate. You know how we’ve talked about heels and faces before, right?”

“Yeah. You said it’s who people really are outside of the ring but with the volume turned way up.”

“That’s right, son. When I turn up my volume in the ring, the fans cheer for me because they know I’m trying to do the right thing. To do things the honorable way. Other guys turn up their volume and the crowd boos them because they choose to take shortcuts or be mean to the fans. Well, deep inside all of us are those urges to either do what’s right or what’s wrong. Sometimes men like Dick Smiley have a difficult time fighting the bad urges. When we lost the match, he gave in to that dark side of himself and took it out on me. With some men, you can never tell which side of the road they’ll end up on.”

Young Indy scrunched up his nose as he tried to process the lesson his father was giving him.

“So...does that mean you might become one of the heels someday?”

Clive chuckled as he patted his son on the shoulder.

“No, son. That’s something you will never have to worry about. I know who I am and I’m proud to be that kind of man. Sure, I might have the urge to give in to my anger once in a while, but when that happens I simply look to the crowd and think about the effect my actions could have on young fans like you. It’s not that I want to be a role model, but I have an obligation to the people who pay to see me. If I can inspire them by doing the right thing, then just maybe I’m making the world a better place in my own little way. Do you understand?”

Indy began to nod his head in the affirmative.

“You’re a good man, dad. And someday I’m gonna be a good man just like you.”

As the pair approached their car, Clive Darling smiled down at his son with satisfaction.

“I know you will, son. I know you will.”




Indy’s in-ring debut for WrestleWorld was rapidly approaching, and not unlike his debut in front of a Mexican audience years prior, his head was full of questions. He still didn’t know who had taken the initiative to get him into WrestleWorld, although it was not an opportunity he was about to let go to waste. Assuming that it had been Doc Miyagi’s doing before the old man was knocked comatose by a massive heart attack, Indy tried to push the hows and whys of his Wrestleworld employment to the back of his mind, instead focusing on the when and where.

Those questions were easier to answer, as his debut would take place in less than a week at Dominion 18 from the Wrestleworld Dojo. Having made his way from the Capitol to the Dojo for the first time, Indy was doing his best to acclimate himself to his new home away from home. Getting in a workout and some training at the facility where he would have his Wrestleworld debut seemed like the best way to do just that, as well as provide him with the opportunity to cut his first promo.

Leaning on the top rope after working out in one of the practice rings, Indy is dressed in his ring tights and a sleeveless grey hoodie, along with his father’s blue aviators covering his eyes. His damp strawberry-blonde hair gives away the idea that he’s just finished a strenuous warm-up, but when he begins to speak, he manages to control his stressed breathing.

“My father used to tell me that every man has a dual nature, and that he has to choose which side of himself he presents when he steps inside a wrestling ring. The general public may classify us as babyfaces, tweeners, and heels, but those are just insider terms to sum up which nature we choose to serve. When I step into the ring, I choose to honor my upbringing by respecting my opponents and the rules we’re competing under. I give everything I have between those ropes, not just to honor the ideals my father instilled in me, but also to give the fans a show that’s worth every penny they’ve paid. So yeah, I guess I’m a babyface, but when I hit an opponent, it backs up the idea that I’m so babyface it hurts.”

“For my Wrestleworld debut, I find myself in a Tournament for The Jewel of Atlantis, and even though the participants were chosen at random, I’m honored to compete against 11 of Dominion’s best. Yet when I look at my first round match, I can’t help but think of those dual natures my dad used to talk about. My partner and opponents seem to make a good case for what he was trying to teach me.”

“On paper it looks like I’m going into this one as the so-called babyface, but I’m not alone in embracing that role. My partner is “So Fly” Don Jordan, a man whom I’ve never met, yet can’t help but respect. I’ve taken the time to familiarize myself with him as much as possible, and in doing so I’ve learned a few things about Don Jordan that are easy to admire. Here’s a guy who was told he couldn’t follow his dreams. He was told that a man of his size needed to stay grounded. Yet despite his detractors, Don Jordan goes out to that ring and flies as well as a man half his size. He’s living his dream in every match he participates in, and that’s something we have in common. In that first round match, I am going to do everything I can to work with Don Jordan, to make our random partnership a success so that we have the opportunity to face each other further down the line. Don’t worry about watching your back, Don, because I know that’s what tag team partners are for. Even if this is the one and only time we find ourselves on the same team, you can count on Indy Darling to have your back.”

“I’m confident that Jordan and I can be on the same page, because we’re both chasing our dreams and choosing to let that honorable side of ourselves present itself to the audience. As for Axel Topnotch, he’s chosen a different path. Maybe it’s because he’s from another planet, which before Wrestleworld I didn’t even know was possible. Hell, maybe he’s just psychotic. Maybe he’s a cosplayer that got lost on his way to Animefest. Whatever the case may be, he’s chosen to allow a more chaotic side of himself to come out and play. He seems to walk a fine line between his own personal light and darkness. Yeah, people tend to see me as the “good guy”, but that doesn’t mean I can’t relate to where Axel is coming from. Following the rules isn’t always easy. Being the bigger man can be challenging. It can be easy to give in to those carnal urges, which Axel does from time to time. That’s why I’m not judging the book by its cover. I’m not going into our match with high expectations, even if my partner did defeat Axel in their previous encounter. I’m going into it with my eyes wide open and focused on Axel Topnotch, because there’s nothing more unpredictable than a man who tiptoes on the line between his two natures.”

“Yet as unpredictable as Axel might be, Senor Pinchy is just as dangerous. Some people might look at him and get a good laugh, thinking he’s nothing more than a silly gimmick. I may be a little naïve at times, but I’m no one’s fool. I saw how Pinchy dragged T.J. Thompson around the arena by his nose, demanding a spot in The Jewel of Atlantis Tournament. Out of all of us, he’s the one competitor who wasn’t entered at random. He’s in this match because he wanted it, and he’s clearly the kind of guy who takes what he wants. It’s pretty clear based on his actions that Pinchy has no issues with embracing his dark side for all to see, and I expect that influence to push his tag partner even further in that direction. Go for it. Bring all the nastiness you can muster. You may want The Jewel of Atlantis, but I want my Dominion debut to be a success, and I’m just as determined to take what I want as you are. Just know that if you try dragging me around the arena by my nose, I’ll snap that claw off and serve it to you with a side of butter.”

“As for The Jewel of Atlantis itself, I couldn’t be more interested in what it represents. I have no idea what it means to a guy like Senor Pinchy, but to me it represents something I’ve been chasing for a long time. No, I’m not talking about recognition or championship gold. I’m talking about the opportunity to step into the ring with the current Territorial Champion, Zane. Only I don’t want to face her just because she’s the champion. I want to face her because she represents the beginning of my journey. That may be a little confusing for some, so allow me to elaborate.”

“When I received my first shot in a mainstream promotion, Zane held a championship that represented rising stars in the business. Because of that, facing her and claiming that championship became my first goal. Ultimately, it wasn’t meant to be. Eventually Zane would lose that title on the very night I won a different one, so our paths would continue to divert away from each other. Then came everything with Colton Saint and...well...let’s just say things got a little complicated between Colt and Zane. But while the world in general looked at Colt and saw a man who had embraced his inner darkness, I saw a man with a sense of honor that most refused to acknowledge. Was I right to believe that? Had Colt pulled the wool over my eyes? To this day I still don’t know the answer, but I do know that I’ll get a lot closer to it if I can face Zane in the ring myself.”

“Title or no title, a match with her will give me the answers to a lot of my questions. Am I as good as I think I am? Am I as naïve as some people think? Am I allowing my true nature to shine through, or does a place like Wrestleworld need an Indy Darling with more of an edge? Should I be the guy dragging people around by their nose or the guy refusing to let the doubters shit all over his dreams? A match against Zane isn’t just what I want. It’s what I need. That’s what The Jewel of Atlantis represents, and that’s why no one else in the tournament is prepared for the level of competition I’m going to bring to the table. In this case, being Indy Darling really isn’t just good enough, it’s better than the rest.”