Work Text:
William is not at all unfamiliar with the personalities professional wrestling tended to pull in. In fact, the brats of the current generation are polite children compared to some of his contemporaries, but they keep things interesting. Certain individuals more so than others.
Rhea Ripley will absolutely not stop picking fights with every angry lady on the roster, Johnny and Candice have lost all sense of reality, and Austin Theory just quit in the middle of the show.
If these were the old days, Balor would be the most concerning person on his list. They would have had a demon huntsman on staff to keep tabs on him at all times, but WWE has a demon protocol that has been in place since Kane emerged from his corner of hell so they are ready if Finn stops playing nice. Besides he’s on the mend after his Takeover match, a very stark reminder to him that even with all that he is, just like everyone else the demon cannot beat the bell.
Additionally William better than suspects that he has his role as general manager not just because of his spectacular wrestling pedigree, but rather that the reputation of generations of Regal huntsmen is enough to keep some of the more uncontrollable wrestlers in line.
Honestly he’s happy he doesn’t have to deal with whatever old god makes Bray Wyatt its home or the demi-god trickery of the New Day. Thank goodness for small miracles he supposes.
Currently his biggest concerns are the fallout whenever Shotzi and Ember decide who the biggest, baddest wolf is and whoever just injured two of his wrestlers backstage.
That first one has yet to occur and oh is it coming, but the second is what’s leading him to the room that is normally occupied by the members of the Undisputed Era.
“It’s me,” he says as he knocks, making certain that he announces who he is before entering the room. It turns out to be for naught when he opens the door only to be immediately assaulted with the taste of static on the back of his throat and a hawkeyed Kyle O’Reilly watching him enter. O’Reilly’s eyes widen in the same degree as the static taste starts to disappear from William’s senses until it’s gone and he’s looking dumbfounded at his General Manager.
“You know,” William opens his mouth and adjusts his jaw to be rid of the last sensations of the magic that invaded his senses, “I announced myself so you didn’t do that. Sorry I spooked you.”
“No I’m sorry,” he immediately apologizes and cannot meet his eyes for a few seconds, clearly caught off guard, “I didn’t mean for that to happen. That was Bobby’s work.”
O’Reilly is out of his ring gear now and looking up at him from his seat with an earnest expression. William breathes out decisively through his nose and turns to look at the door. His eyesight is not as good as it once was but when he knows what to look for it’s easier to see the thicker coat of paint outlining the door. Beneath it there are surely runes.
Rune magic is pretty common to protect a domicile from unwanted guests, but the results differ greatly depending on the skillset of the practitioner. A cousin of his had to be on assisted breathing for months when he made the mistake of going after a nest of vampires and not realising that the flat they were renting was owned by a witch skilled in rune magic. If this building had less protection against magic then there would have been greater consequences to William walking through that door than a lingering tickle.
William’s first instinct is to force himself not to react. It’s to not think about how dangerous it is to allow a coven to have formed in NXT, especially one so keen on making enemies. Instead he thinks of Cole being attacked at Takeover, then Fish being attacked early in the night. From what Kyle says, they fortified their defenses, so to speak, well before Strong was attacked. Both attacks today were done outside of this room, and it seems that it may well have been for a reason other than just catching them when they’re alone. Though who knew it was defended?
William looks away from the runes to the only other person in the room. Kyle only looks back at him for a few more moments before moving to his untied shoes with a frown. It’s an uncharacteristically somber look on the man.
“Did you need something?” O’Reilly asks, a bit impatient, moving to tie his shoes. Regal is unmoved by his rudeness.
“I’m here about the attacks. I want to ask you some questions.”
“I told you I didn’t see anything.”
“Is that right?”
O’Reilly finishes tying his second shoe lace and in the same movement stands up and lifts his chin to get in Regal’s face, but immediately takes a step back, remembering himself and who he is trying to intimidate.
“You think I did this?” Kyle says incredulously, but his eyes are furious and Regal becomes aware of a faint smell of ozone creeping in.
“Why would I hurt my friends and ruin our chances at winning the tag titles back?” He says with more anger than before. Regal holds up his hands to placate him.
“Now, I’m not saying that you did do it, but you’re the last man standing and I’ve been in this industry long enough to never underestimate ambition. I’m certain that you know what I mean.”
Regal watches Kyle’s eyes shift from fury to guarded understanding as some recollection comes to him. Then suddenly he’s shaking his head as if to get rid of his thoughts and looks at him with gape mouthed indignation.
O’Reilly is far from the most likely suspect but he is the most troubling. With so much talent out with injuries or otherwise uncleared to work, the last thing he needs is a civil war on his hands.
“Maybe you wanted something different,” Regal says, watching Kyle’s reaction closely, “and needed to get rid of dead weight without any repercussions. Maybe it went too far. Maybe caring about them wasn’t enough”
The smell of ozone grows stronger.
“Nobody in the Undisputed Era is dead weight,” O’Reilly sneers at him, “And I was just, oh I don’t know, having the match of my career when that piece of garbage Holland broke Adam’s ribs. Oh and by the way we were going to become tag champs tonight. That is an undisputed fact. Why else would someone take out Bobby’s leg? Why knock Roddy out? All of them were alone and attacked from behind by cowards so if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to the hospital to check on them."
He starts pacing, suddenly filled with restless energy, pushing his hair back with both hands. “I don’t even know what’s wrong with Roddy. Fuck!”
He slams his hand on one of the wooden shelves, a small cloud of dust rising as a hand hits the wood. Kyle blinks rapidly, either in surprise or some of the dust got in his eye. Regal takes a step to the side to avoid inhaling dust.
Kyle lifts his hand from where it hit the shelf and a splintered handprint is left in its wake. Kyle lifts his hand in front of his face. It’s completely unharmed and he seems surprised by that. That’s interesting.
Regal eyes the one finger on his hand that is still wrapped in tape and frowns grimly at it.
Spellwork with witches comes in many varied forms and techniques are generally passed down through families or apprenticeship. If the knowledge isn’t passed down to them, witches tend to have the scrappy kind of magic that is put together by spit and tape and fragments of magical knowledge to hone their innate magical talent. When it comes to witches’ spells used in professional wrestling, they tend to be of the scrappy variety, mostly because they get nullified as soon as the bell rings.
Like the clearly enchanted tape Bobby Fish and Kyle O’Reilly wrap around their fingers before every match. Not that it would do much for them, but it did just enough to tip the scales in their favor.
All WWE venues and facilities have standard wards to suppress transformation, possession, divine intervention, summoning, thralls, magic, and soul eating, but that only dampens it enough to meet insurance regulations.
Matches are another matter. McMahon magic is in every bell the WWE has in its possession and with a few very powerful exceptions, as soon as the bell rings everyone in that ring is just a wrestler.
In the old days many promotions didn’t use enchanted ring bells and it was imperative that those wrestlers knew exactly who and what they were up against. However, with all the concern for athletes' long term health in the last decade they have become standard regulation, but generations of McMahon wizards had long perfected the enchantment before it was law. The old way of doing things still lives on in some smaller promotions that can’t afford or choose not to have an enchanted ring bell and William can’t bring himself to judge them for it.
The Undisputed Era are not the first ones to try and cheat the bell, but they have been distressingly successful at gaming the system. It really doesn’t help that Hunter allows them to put a sigil on every single piece of Undisputed Era merch that is sold and that he lets Adam Cole speak words into power knowing that even simple and repressed divination magic will catch fate’s ear if repeated as much as Cole runs his mouth. It was Regal’s grandmother who drilled it in his head that witches' magic is tethered by their intentions and a will to follow through. So even if the enchantment is gone, the ritual of wrapping fingers deliberately in a certain pattern and saying the same words every time leaves something behind. Something ancient and inherent to what they are. So if their strikes do the tiniest bit more damage than they should, who’s going to notice?
Outside the ring, however, this sort of property damage is a little too common, though not normally for the Undisputed Era and Kyle has enough of a mind to give Regal a nervous look.
William sighs. The smell of ozone is gone in a blink.
“Look, for now just go see your friends. We’ll deal with this later.”
Kyle’s nervous stare stays on him for a few seconds before he starts moving to pick up the two bags left in the room until he’s standing in front of Regal, bags hanging around both shoulders, eyes up asking him to move out of his way so he can leave. The last of his enchantment is still wrapped around his finger.
O’Reilly’s magic and the magic protecting him, however, is completely gone from Regal’s senses, but without it there he catches the scent of clover and basil off the wrestler in front of him. The scent is subdued, either a masterfully subtle potion or a waning one, but for William it’s almost more cloying than the rune magic. He blinks rapidly, caught off guard as it stirs up two clear memories for him in tandem
In one he is 10 and a witch had made the mistake of using magic on a Regal to help influence his aunt in buying a faulty oven and the witch had begged for forgiveness as William’s grandmother lifted a cleaver over the cutting board his hand was laid on. Young Will had closed his eyes tight as the cleaver was swung down, the peppery, clover scent that had followed the witch through the house completely drowned by a salty, coppery one as the witch screamed.
The other memory is of a grinning Roderick Strong showing Regal pictures on his phone of his fiancé and their newborn baby and what it felt like to look at the happy, new life being shown to him with pride and trust while remembering the screams of his childhood.
The memories give him pause for a second, but he moves out of O’Reilly’s way. As he walks by, Regal reaches out to his shoulder stopping him, unsure why.
O’Reilly looks at him with a tired look and Regal looks back, something caught in his throat that won’t come out. He settles for patting him on the shoulder and letting him go. Kyle looks at him suspiciously, and walks out with a shake of his head.
William sighs.
Best case scenario, one of the many people the Undisputed Era have pissed off on the roster had a moment of anger (3 times), and this could all be resolved with a match and minimal curses. His money isn’t on infighting between the Undisputed Era, but he won’t rule it out. Worst case scenario this is a witch hunt and that is a whole other can of worms he frankly doesn’t want to deal with.
There’s a knock on the door, pulling his attention back toward the doorway
McKenzie is standing there, microphone in one hand, looking apologetic.
“Sorry Mr. Regal, but I just wanted to confirm with you the type of match Cameron Grimes will have against Dexter Lumis at Halloween Havoc.”
William couldn’t help the upturn of his lips, thinking about the match planned for the loud pain in the neck and the literally haunted man.
“Oh I have the perfect match in mind.”