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| Bruno vs. the Scorpion vs. NV Laroux vs. Moore; Heritage Title Qualifier - Escape Cage | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Aug 30 2011, 01:21 AM (376 Views) | |
| Allocco | Aug 30 2011, 01:21 AM Post #1 |
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Majestic Owner
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/Deadline: 09.09.11 @ 11:59:59 PM EST RP Limit: 3 Venue: Royale Majestic Casino, Las Vegas, Nevada Please post your RPS within the match thread. Jimmy "The Tiger" failed to attain victory last week, but he has a chance to redeem himself against incredible talent. The Scorpion, with his biazarre and somewhat creepy video that aired on Salvation, and NV Laroux both are making their debuts in this match with one thing on their mind, take the victory and go onto Bloody Sunday and take the title belt. Matthew Moore, who is also making his debut match, made his presence known by introducing James Bristol to steel chair last week. Who is hungry enough to fight their way out of the cage? |
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| James Bruno | Aug 30 2011, 02:32 AM Post #2 |
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MW Camaraderia Champion
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::[[The scene is the empty locker room. Hours after Salvation was decalred over. Sitting alone, twiddling a lucky stripe ciggarette in between his fingers is none other than Jimmy The Tiger Bruno. There is a serious look on his face. Obviously the loss to the hands of that redneck Jersey imposter bothered Jimmy. Jimmy "The Tiger" Bruno stands up promply and walks over to the locker and pucnhes it.]]:: Jimmy "The Tiger" Bruno: Here I left this country for three years, in hopes to become a better figher. I come back and the first hting I do, I lose. so I even bother anymore? Voice: Youre pathetic... ::[[Jimmy Bruno turns around and there is a suited man with a long white bread and a shaved head. ]]:: Jimmy "The Tiger" Bruno: Youre here to mock me, old man? Old man: Its too easy to do, it wont be fun. Jimmy "The Tiger" Bruno: I should kick ur ass for just saying that. Old man: I doubt you could anymore. You couldn't even get the job dne tonight. ::[[The old man grabs a hold of his cane and weilds it. The man smacks Jimmy on the top of the head.]]:: Old man: The Tiger has no bite. You left my school to go find more out there and for what for this to happen? Jimmy "The Tiger" Bruno: You trained me well. I learned much. I just need to focus. I need not to get too cocky, and that is what I did tonight.Old Man: You do need focus, you do need guiance though as well. Your brother didn't forget about my mentoring, he embrace and he almost got far until he got hooked on those drugs. Now you can do better, you just need to have faith in my abilities. Jimmy "The Tiger" Bruno: Perhaps... Old man: If you don't, Ill just have to you show you through pure force or do you now take your lessons from a masked wetback? Jimmy "The Tiger" Bruno: That's man just a fool. I'll consider it, now leave me alone, I need to think... ::[[The old man nods. Turning around without saying another word. Jimmy releases a very deep sigh and before sitting down. Maybe he needs to go reach out his roots, complete the circle, get back attuned with himself. He's afraid through, he's afraid he's going to walk down the same road as his brother did before him. Funny how a man like Jimmy can be afraid of fate instead of men who can kick one's ass .]]:: ::[[Jimmy stands up and faces the camera, ready to spek about his match]]:: Jimmy "The Tiger" Bruno: Good job, inbred mofo, you beat me. I won't complain about how you did it. You did beat me, I'm just still not too proud of your whole character. The pretending that you're really form Jersey, when we all know I'm a really Jersey man kinda annoys me to be honeste. Oh well be happy wit that victory of yours because soon Ill make sure you will know my true strength. Ill come back someday and rip your pride to shreds. ::[[Jimmy releases a laugh, before patting his pack of lucky stripes, he sits down onto the bench again.]]:: Jimmy "The Tiger" Bruno: Despite the fact that I lost, it seems I have been given the chance to do good. I was already notified that I am going to face against three other wrestlers for the privileage to comepte for the Hertiage title. now I know one man thinks hes really scary, posting that video, I bet its all staged. I bet he just was pulling a prank on us. he's not that smart. Come listen to his name, The Scorpion, just the Scorpion. Let me guess you're related to the Scoprion king, right? Then other guy, he's supposed to be some cool dud, NV Laroux.He tries to be cool with this name, "New Age Deviant", but I'm curious to see how you're gonna deviate. I can't really say much about you because you didn't post a retarded video for the first show and expect people to take you serious. I guess its a smart move. Its funny how both you and Scorpion are supposed to be geniuses, just makes me wonder why you didn't get a job doing something more beneficial to society. You see I cant save lives any other way, but I can try to inspire kids, and that why I wrestle. I wonder what you guys wrestle for? Your own selfish egos? Finally the last guy who is going to be in the cage with us, trying to escape is Matthew Moore. Supposedly he hit Bristel with a steel chair because he was annoyed at what he wanted. Does that give you the right to attack someone? Just because they annoy you? Sounds like you were just lying so you feel as if you weere jusitifed hitting someone with a steel chair. You know what, I'm not intimidated at all with your steel chair attack. In fact, it makes me laugh. ::[[Jimmy the Tiger lets out a big "hahahaha" before continuing talking about the match.]]:: Jimmy "The Tiger" Bruno: It makes no difference, you see. The belt was made for me. I honor the ppast, I am the present, and I will inpsire the future generations. So you all can throw mud at me, talk shit, but I'm going to go in there with my head held low, and do my job. I'm going to climb out of the cage and advance, so good luck to you, because you three will be trapped in a cage with a Tiger. Can you handle that ::[[Jimmy the Tiger Bruno smacks the camera away before leaving the locker room. End scene.]]:: |
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| Deleted User | Sep 4 2011, 07:01 AM Post #3 |
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Deleted User
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![]() The sun hangs in the midday sky. You could call the day ‘mostly sunny’ or ‘partly cloudy’ depending on your world view. The beige brick wall on the East side of the building provides shelter from the beating of the sun’s rays. The shadow stretches across to a set of gray concrete stairs. Leaning ever so nonchalantly on the metal railing running alongside of the stairs is the soon to be familiar silhouette of a man that has become very familiar to the audience of Majestic Wrestling. Trying to decipher what is going through his head is nearly impossible as his eyes are hidden behind mirrored aviator glasses. I have come to the Majestic Wrestling for one reason and one reason alone. I am here to serve as a role model, as someone that you all should emulate. Instead, I am already treated as an outcast… an outsider… a pariah. The boys in the back treat me like I owe them something or like I don’t deserve to be in the same locker room as them. Jimmy Bruno had the nerve, the unmitigated gall to actually tell me what kind of person I am. Where has he been the since Majestic launched? Oh, that's right, he's been on the losing end of things. Perhaps he thinks that because of his perception of me that I am weak... I'm not going to ignore you, Bruno. But I am going to tell you, no, show you, how truly misguided you are. The camera begins to slowly pull back, causing the building behind to slowly become more of a focal point. April 20th, 1999… at 11:19AM… Mountain Daylight Time… it is a time that will forever be remembered in the hallways, the classrooms, the cafeteria, and most certainly the library of this school. The camera pulls back far enough to reveal the name of the building: Columbine High School. Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold were initially viewed as two quote unquote nerds. Because they weren’t in with the ‘cool kids’ they were ostracized and openly mocked by muscular, moronic, meat headed jocks. Does this sound like someone we here in Majestic Wrestling know? That’s right! If you answered Jimmy Bruno, good job! Laroux gives a cheesy smile and a thumbs up. It’s those that are bigger or more physically gifted in the world that feel that they can push the little guy around just because he's smaller or different. The problem is that sometimes, the little guy pushes back. The constant bullying, constant harassment will only be condoned for so long. You can control a dog by fear, but if that dog doesn’t respect you then it will bite you the first chance it gets. The problem is, when this is done to a creature as evolved as a human, there is a certain amount of feral instinct, granted. The gears in your head begin grinding and turning until you have a plan, next thing you know, BAM! They turn on you in the blink of an eye. Laroux stands upright, and begins walking away from the school. What made Dylan Klebold and Eric Harris so dangerous wasn’t being young and angry. It was the fact that they felt that their twisted version of reality was their cause, and they were willing to become martyrs for that very cause. While a wrestling match doesn’t warrant such a lethal use of force, what is a man to do when the world refuses to hear him. What is a man to do when the locker room looks down upon him like a pimple on the face of their sport? Jimmy Bruno has lost his first match so far. So, I will tell you what he thinks he is supposed to do. He thinks that a man is supposed to stand his ground. You asked me what makes me a deviant, Bruno. It's the fact that I will do anything that I deem neccesary, regardless of the tactic. When it’s you against the world, as Klebold and Harris thought it was, and is it truly is for me, the end justifies the means. Come on, old man. You've been around long enough to know that there are just some people who want to watch the world burn. Laroux continues walking. The school slow grows smaller in the background. For some people, it’s easy enough to disengage, and to disassociate oneself from a situation. The reasons people are able to do this range from being desensitized to it simply being a coping mechanism. Most people find that it’s easier to forget or ignore a situation than to face the reality of it. Well, Bruno, the harsh reality of life is that your living hell, the NVL, is going to slap you out of this dream world where old men from bad 1970's karate films guide you force you to stare real life in the face. You are a foolish, ignorant man. To paraphrase the Chinese dictator Mao Zedong, "In appearance you are very powerful but in reality you are nothing to be afraid of; for you are a paper tiger. Outwardly a tiger, it is made of paper, unable to withstand the wind and the rain. I believe you truly are nothing but a paper tiger." You appear to be something you aren't, Bruno. You claim to be from Jersey. Have you even taken the transit train through Jersey City? Laroux turns and looks up at the sun behind him, taking a brief moment to adjust his sunglasses. I have no friends in that ring, only enemies. Most would view this as a disadvantage, but I see what most fail to see. Without friends, I don’t have to worry about hurting someone’s feelings or looking over my shoulder to see if the gold lust of another will cause them to stab me in the back. I will look into that ring and I see nothing more than human targets. I don’t have to play games. I don’t have to test the waters of trust. I know that the boys in the back, you all hate me, each and every one of you. And if you don't, you will by the time I am finished. Laroux looks back at Columbine High School one last time before he leaves it in the distance. Those who forget the past are doomed to repeat it. You can look at the lessons that should have been learned from the horrors of Columbine. Your ignorance shall be your undoing. “All blacks are obsolete farm equipment.” “AIDS is a form of punishment.” “The white man is Satan.” Ignorance causes people to say such idiotic things. That very same ignorance causes them to do even more idiotic things. The holocaust, Columbine, the war taking place right now in Pakistan; this is just a small list of things done in ignorance. Alas, Jimmy Bruno, here is your chance. Prove to the wrestling world you are the nightmarish tiger you claim to be and not some daydream full of kittens on rainbows up in the clouds with happy happy joy joy music filling the air. Prove to me that the “Tiger” was not some nickname you ignorantly thought you could live up to. I could care less if you are on a slump or not, Bruno. I think you are amongst the lambs being lead to slaughter because you are facing"The New Age Deviant". When all is said and done, Bruno, you will look back at this match not as a loss, but as a learning experience. You are a Chihuahua trying to bark like a big dog, and you are only embarrassing yourself. Your words mean nothing when you fail to back them up. I, on the other hand, backup my words with my actions. When I say I am going to do something, believe that. Laroux’s gait is quick but methodical. He stops as his cell phone rings. He looks at the caller id before he flips his phone open. Laroux… The voice on the other end of the phone sounds vaguely familiar. Don't worry about it. Everything is fine... For a brief moment, Laroux's face contorts as rage overtakes him. Yes, I'm on my damned meds. Let me go, bro. I'm in the middle of something. Laroux flips his phone shut and quickly shoves it back in his pocket. Jimmy Bruno, you are getting your chance at the big time. You need to put all of your energy, all of your anger, you need to bring everything you've got if you think that you are going to defeat me. It won't make a difference in the long run. The same goes for Scorpion and Moore, too. The way this match is going to go, First I am going to overtake you, proving my superiority over you. Then, I am going to let you escape, landing a few moves and building that confidence. Like a donkey forever chasing that carrot dangled in front of him, you will strive for victory, but you will not obtain your goal. In an instant, I will knock you or one of the other two jackasses in the match in the back of the brainpan and then it will hit you that you have snatched defeat from the jaws of victory. You will realize at that moment that I am your superior because you will have no choice but to stay down for the three count, or in this case watch helplessly as I leave the cage... end of story. Laroux continues walking as the camera crew follows him walking away for a moment before they cut the feed. |
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| Deleted User | Sep 5 2011, 06:25 PM Post #4 |
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Deleted User
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![]() The half full moon hangs in the pitch black sky. It's almost as if it is playing hide and seek as it floats in and out of view behind the passing clouds. Down below, amidst the trees are several makeshift tents. The firelight off the torches provides a glow, encompassing the perimeter of the tents. As a heavy rain begins to fall, the torchlight is snuffed out, leaving the soft glow from the lamps and strings of light bulbs inside the tent to guide the way. A man in a trench coat and holding an umbrella and a large box motions the camera to follow him. The years have obviously worn on this man, a Vietnamese follow with very worn features. As the man moves forward, the gathering of tents grows closer, protected by a very tall wooden wall. The man scurries up to a green wooden door and darts inside. The camera man cautious enters behind the man, slowly opening the door. Inside is clutter to each side. Chairs are stacked upon one another. Boxes line the walkway. Perhaps the oddest thing are the televisions seemingly scattered through out the mess. To those who remember the days before cable television, the white and black "snow" that dances across the screen is quite familiar. The old man continues down the walkway between the mess, but the camera man stops as all of the televisions suddenly display the image of a man wearing a top hat on their screens. The man's head is purposely angled so that the top hat hides his face. The man lifts the top hat up, only for a brief moment, giving us a glimpse of his face. He lowers the hat, hiding his identity once again, but lifts his head so you can see the large smirk etched across his visage. He begins talking in a sing song fashion. Midnight Circus ... riddle me... Oh my! Midnight Circus... riddle me... Oh my! The man now lifts his head upwards so that we can clearly see his face. The man is N.V. Laroux. He continues singing with a look of absolute ecstasy on his face. Scorpion... I want to step out to the future... But I’m like a clown, a clown you see... tied up with a string. Laroux's hand taps on the lens of the camera that is filming him. The sound of someone knocking on a glass television screen is heard. He is then pulled back by the cloth tied around his hands. Let me out... let me out... I’m locked in here like Dracula, like Dracula... This is such a creepy place... I want to run away to the Midnight Circus. The feed suddenly cuts out and the static once again returns. The old man is at the end of the walkway, holding an accordion He motions to an open door to his right then begins playing a melancholy tune. The accordion wales with sadness as the cameraman approaches. The old man lets out a howl of a laugh as the cameramen passes and makes his way out the door. The first thing he sees is a young brown haired girl, dressed in black from head to toe, leaning against the bars of the cage she is in. She wears a forlorn look upon her face. Swinging above her is another young girl, in a white chiffon dress that flows behind her as she moves gracefully to and fro. Turning the camera's attention back to the earth, N.V. Laroux now appears in the center of the frame. He is dressed in a black dress pants with a red blazer that matches the band of cloth tied around his top hat. He takes a knife off of the white satin pillow that the young girl next to him is holding and slides the cool metal down the side of her face. He smiles and suddenly whips the knife to his right, the blade embedding itself firmly in the wooden board it found it's way to. Another young girl, this one a blonde, continues to stare forward expressionlessly. A dangerous roller coaster is this Midnight Circus. I look down and it really seems like the end... I don’t know… I can’t see the end of this moment... What a troubled night, a troubled, troubled night... When the moment you’re out comes, you’ll know it... but the show must go on and never stop... Never, ever stop. N.V. dances around in circles, having himself a merry old time. The dead seriousness that he had when addressing Jimmy Bruno was nowhere to be seen. This incarnation of NV Laroux was unhinged, almost psychotic. He looks up, raising his arms into the air as though he was reaching towards the heaven. He continues on, now laughing while he is singing. You even make that ironic laugh when I cry. I want to be loved. It’s a lie. It's a lie. I'm happy. I'm happy! You’re laughing while you look at me, dancing under these bright lights. I’m possessed again. Welcome to midnight circus show. Acrobats flip all around Laroux, but with his presence, he is still the center of attention. Suddenly, his face drops and stares directly into the camera. Scorpion, I do not fear your sting. I do not feat the death that you claim all men fear. Some of us, whether we realize it or not, are already dead. I believe it was the great philosopher Dr. Victor Fries who once asked "Have you ever seen a flower die? Watched something that was once so beautiful, so full of life, collapse and rot from within?" I have. I watched as the one person I cared about most in this world died a slow emotional death that eventually overtook her completely. Why would I fear death's cold embrace when it is the only path that will lead me to her? IF your God does exist, than he is my mortal enemy, for He has taken that which I held dear. What kind of loving Father would cause such pain to his children? I ask you that, Scorpion. Laroux spits on the ground at his feet. Deus est mortuus. There's some of your dead language, Scorpion. I don't believe in god. In the future, we will all be responsible for our own acts. Just to be on the safe side, let me ask a favor of God. Forgive me Father, for I know exactly what I do. Laroux laughs for a moment before continuing on. The essence of anarchy is constant surprise. Spontaneity... Lao-Tse knew, and all those other old Chinese guys. So how come we all forgot along the way? How come you can be wise once upon a time, and two thousand years later you're ignorant as a pig? Doesn't really matter. The dinosaurs are dead, only they don't know it yet. They need someone like me to bring home the news. The Dark Ages are passing -- and their heroes will pass with them. The city needs a new breed of hero. The night needs a new kind of monster. I am that monster. I have nothing left to live for. My mornings begin with misery and I fall into the blissful realm of dreams imagining the pain and suffering of others. I look forward to bringing the faith blinded zealot crashing back reality and single-handedly ending his jihad. Your blind loyalty to your God is like a prison without bars. This is an entertaining party that fits everyone. Wait, that's another lie. Watching you is like a train wreck. We all want to turn away, but can't help ourselves but to look at your schtick like it's some sort of tragic comedy. Laroux chuckles to reinforce the point. I would hate to live your life... Looking up to see the lights... Bowing to the same people... What a sad and pathetic existence. For me, this is a rebirth. It doesn't matter how broken I am. It doesn't matter that day after day my heart is weakening. The show must go on. The dream must continue. And I will achieve my dream in three steps. One, never look back. Two, never listen to anyone else. Three, watch the world around me fall. Here I am. Here comes the highlight of the show. Laroux falls to his knees, tears streaming down his face as he breaks down. And no one is there but this place is lighted... The stage was empty... No one was on top of it... I’ve never cried and laughed alone... Why did you have to leave... I have no where else to go... This place... the show is over... I was fooled by the bright lights of this place... The steel cage will be the only place to escape... N.V. Laroux stands up, the black of his eye make up now running down his cheek, creating a slightly more unnerving image. Scorpion... your God... He hates me. And for all the pain he has caused me... I will return it to you tenfold. After all, the sins of the Father are visited unto the son. Laroux claps and the circus comes to life around him once again. A burst of flame crosses between Laroux and the camera as the feed cuts out. |
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| the.highlite.reel | Sep 8 2011, 12:35 PM Post #5 |
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![]() .:: HIGHLITE REEL ::. Take One: “The 3 Year Itch” Date: September 2nd 2011 It truly has been a while since my face was ever seen on this planet. The last impression I left was a bad one as I wrestled my last match, scored my last check and hit up the local liquor store in town and become a pissy, drunk sailor. Last I remember, I was given the letter that I was released from the company with the follow up of “good luck on your future endeavors, Mr. Moore!” All I could take from that three year era was the fact that my love life was the better rated rollercoaster of all time, from 0-60 in 1.5 seconds from the thrills and chills of watching me and at that time, my good friend, turned manager, turned girlfriend, turned “question mark”. The up and down rotations were sick and don’t even get me started about the pukes that came along with to give it that rating of satisfaction. The name ‘Anya Starkova’, pretty name but such a force to be reckoned with if you knew her like I did. Sweetheart at best but she had fire, extreme heat that was a handful to deal with, and if she ever found out that a) I’ve come back to wrestling ring not notifying her about it, and b) throwing out her name in slight vain, she will do her best to make my return a living hell … Funny thing with that is, since 2009, I haven’t heard from her at all, no calls, messages, anything. Even with our eventual departure of giving space, I’d expect her to atleast give me some updates, so I took it as she wanted something better, therefore I ignored the worry and did my thing. I struggled like hell to continue on the straight and narrow without her. A great deal of stress led to the ‘highlite reel’ of Matthew Moore to be laid to rest upon a shelf for another day. A rest that lasted three years in total, here I was yearning for another shot. Out of money, barely making it, I needed a “fresh start”. The news broke on some wrestling company that was seeking a comeback of it’s own after time of being off and defunct. It was looking for top-rated talent to come and compete, a complete open house that enabled all who enjoyed sports entertainment to garnish a roster spot. I was late, as I saw the line that traveled almost close to two blocks. Getting a place, I awaited as I felt the need to remake myself into something that was trendy. My style was already unique, my attitude was quite electric, I just needed to mold that into one fucking awesome super-being. Maybe this could be a good deal for me, no one knows who I am, so I’d fit in easily, just needed an opportunity. “Hey buddy?” Was shouted from the other end of the long hallway, as I turned my head looking at the ball-headed guy. “Your name is Matthew Moore?” He asked as my right eyebrow automatically lifted. “Uh … Yeah, who are you?” I responded and asked a question in return as he signaled his hand for me to come towards him. “No time for questions, kid … You are on Salvation this week, be here on the 9th …Don’t be late!” Soon as he said that, he quickly sprinted out of sight as I was left there, slightly confused but with a smile on my face. Someone must’ve known about me in order for them to know my name. No one knows me … I came from a damn indie circuit. “Could she? … But how? … She hasn’t heard from me in years, I could have possibly been dead. Wherever she is, she’s not far from sight.” Looking at my watch as it read close to two o’clock in the afternoon, the line was still long, but luckily for me somehow I got the news and now I was able to flee off for a personal toast … a comeback story, maybe if all works out, I’d get the AP Comeback Player of the Year in the ending of the year. Maybe? _____________________________ _______________________________________ “Matthew …” The grunge-like voice coming from down the end of the table, that signature crack of the voice, a small smile appeared on my face as I looked in the direction of where he was coming from. “Dave …” Dave, an old friend that I met with my move to Southern California. Such a different style of living to get used to if you’ve always lived in Trenton, New Jersey for most of your life since birth. An extreme change, but not a bad one. A two-year long relationship with California, so far … so good. Meeting this guy Dave, opposite of my personality, somehow a “Hello” and a follow up of “How are you?” has turned it into a two year friendship. Both of us were similar, Single, fans of Mixed Martial Arts and Doritos, the Cool Ranch flavor. It was good to have someone like that you could mesh with, we weren’t any good hits with the ladies that resided in the Southern California trails, so we chose to just go by our own terms and enjoy fucking life. Somehow, at this current run-in, all I could think about was who the mysterious link was to putting my name into the hats of that wrestling company’s new establishment. Dave looked at me, a bit weird as he sat at the next barstool across from me. “You alright, bro?” He asked, somewhat worried. “Yea, a little puzzle I’m trying to solve, but nothing troublesome.” I said as in the back of my mind, it was something else. “Anything Sherlock Holmes could solve?” He asked as he cracked a grin. To be honest, no because Sherlock never been knee deep into a dramatic past love interest that somehow keeps haunting him almost everyday. So no, he couldn’t solve this … “Yeah, a quick solve without the need of buying vowels.” I said, returning with a grin of my own. As bad as I had wanted a drink, I couldn’t. The lost hours of drunken kingdom were in the rear window. To actually look back at myself as I glance at the time I admitted myself into rehabilitation, to erase the mental images of childhood, a drunken father that made the rest of his life off of it, I had to shake my head to even looking at something with the ending word “Vodka” or “Rum”. “Fuck it!” I said as it caught Dave off guard. “Uhm, what? … What’s up?” He asked. “It’s nothing … Seriously, nothing at all …. I gotta’ roll, I’ll get back with you!” Hopping off of the high bar stool, I re-adjusted my jacket as I fluffed my hair. Shaking his hand, I got myself out of trouble before it could begin as I left Dave to himself in a hurry. Between reoccurring thoughts of the past, I needed to go home. ![]() MY RUSTY CAGE PROMO #001 Heritage Title Qualifier Hey ‘Jobbers’ … I’m here, okay? Somehow, somewhere … someone has given me a new fortune of life, without even having to spin the wheel or watch Vanna White walk from left to right two hundred times an episode. Someone knew about me and knew that I needed another shot at my dream job. A free agent wrestler who’s been out of the game for like three years. No one else accepting applicants, somehow leads me to the land of ‘Sin City’, Las Vegas that is with an opportunity to get that deserved shot at being something once again. Last week on Salvation first series, I created some controversy. Some liked it while others sit on there ass and complain about what I did. No one not even knowing about me, I somehow had the right to come out there and attack an innocent person. They continue to stir it around, but all I can do is laugh about it. So you people don’t mind a ‘prick’ like that just shitting foul all over your company’s chairman? Really? I did you bastards a favor, I saved you from those five minutes of extreme boredom. Lucky I didn’t go Sabu and completely crush his larynx with that chair, be happy and shut the hell up! As I stated, I wanted to do some scouting, I wasn’t on the card so being the smart person I am, I wanted an opportunity to scout, not be treated to a fake ‘Godfather’ and his “Booty-ful” hoes and listen to him shit useful minutes of broadcasting away, I did what I had to do. Don’t lie, if you were in my shoes, you all would have done the same. Plus it’s a win-win situation. First, controversy gets created from it all, second … your name is now out there. It’s all about marketability. I may be a rookie in this company, but like most here, I’m not a rookie to the game. That game being the way of earning a shot and becoming a future for the company. Like the song persist to, My rusty cage … coated in rust, I sat for years wanting and wanting another chance at life’s gift to me. I screwed up badly on the first two attempts, I just needed another shot. Here comes Majestic Wrestling, looking for opportunistic competitors to fill the open roster spots. That was my ‘chance’ to make something of this. Sure the song is relative to abuse and such, but for me, it’s fitting. Holding my own self back, I’m breaking the chains on that fucking cage and I’m making a run for it, no care in the world for who is in my way. Jimmy Bruno, The Scorpion, or NV Laroux … I could care less if it was Edward Scissorhands and Freddy Krueger in a jam session, I was not going to lose this battle. Those chains break, that cage will open and I am making a blast for all three of your heads in one shot. Jimmy, to answer your question … Yes, it was necessary. I paid good money for those damn seats and to be shot down with a lousy, snickering bastard as James Bristol and having to hear him constantly for those five minutes, it was all a matter of when. I hopped that barricade and released my anger. That seat cost, and I needed valued entertainment. He’s rich so he can afford another suit, hairdo, or the hospital bill for immediate stitching. When you are trying to find innovative ways to create a light for yourself, it’s difficult. Sure, you can go the ‘easy’ route and stay anonymous and just fight to get some notice, but when you want to make it quick, you must do what you have to. Time is not to be taken for granted as well as your life, so whatever you can do to jumpstart your career, you gotta’ do it. I’ve tried being the ‘nice’ kid, the one who does everything right. The shit simply sucks, I can’t be assed with bullshit tasks to do things the right way. How you think hip hop stars get their name out? Not just by selling compact discs out of their broke down Geo Metro compact ride. They use all the tools necessary to give their name light. If I were you Jimmy B, I’d think hard about that. You are like the “old” me, do everything the right way. It works, but it’s a slow, slow process. Hell, you’ll figure it out one day, bud. As for Salvation, I hate to say it, but you aren’t going to win this battle. You’re a true blue veteran to the game as I’ve got my ‘cheat sheet’, a rough-houser who has ‘mean streaks’, but you’re soft, dude. Sorry, but it’s true. You call yourself “The Tiger”, while it gives your name a little pop, it does nothing for you. You haven’t maimed anyone in your career. I don’t even know you that well and I can’t tell that you aren’t a ‘tiger’. Now you can be ‘Tigger’ from the Winnie the Pooh series, as that seems to be more up your alley as far as ‘tiger’ or ‘Tony the Tiger’. The non-violent kind, just the humorous type. You can come in, hold your head low and attempt to do your job, but at the end of the day, the clouds will remain blue … you will be a failure this week, just saying. The Scorpion, to be honest, you really don’t intimidate me in any way. You can speak the foreign language, it doesn’t give me chills. Your purpose here is to do what? Ramble about how you’re ‘Godly’ creature and everyone will obey you? Not sure, but that ‘dark’ shit is just cracking me up with laughter. You’ve been listening to them dark metal bands, you feel you can imitate that and use it to your advantage to defeat everyone in this company, with your deadly strike. Funny shit, really, it is … I’m not mad at you though, kid. As I previously said, do what you must do to take the bull by its horns. Just hope with as much work you put into sounding all ‘dark and creepy’ for your fellow opponents to feel threatened by, I hope it shows up in the ring come Sunday night. It’s going to be ‘GOD-AWFUL if you lose to one of us, a career-shattering fail to your record will make you rethink your motive to follow this trail of ‘darkness’. Last but not least, NV Laroux, a man with one unique name … now Scorpion, that is a name … NV Laroux … or Envy Laroux is how I look at it. Scorpion needs to sip your juice because by far that is one kick-ass alias. Unfortunately for NV, he will swim down that same path both Scorpion and Bruno will be surfaced with. By far, NV has come to play ball. A Strasburg 99 mile per hour strike, is what NV is throwing out. He’s out to prove something. You do prove a valid point, going in that ring, there are no friends, just enemies. Even your life-long tag partner will stab you in the back when the chance is given when he spots that lovely shining piece of jewelry called a title. You feel all alone in the back, no one knows your name. You wanna go where everyone knows your name. Shit, did I just spit out ‘Cheers’ lyrics in a promo. My goodness, but yes, Laroux … it’s good to be by yourself because no one will have your back in this league. It’s all about “one”, that being yourself. That’s the only way to go. Salvation 2 will be a night where something good will happen for the company. A young talent will rise in the ranks, steps closer to the gold. The heritage title means something. Holding that title, you represent your heritage, where you come from, the long, tedious roads of trying to make it famous, living out of your parent’s rotten 77’ Vista Cruiser hoping it carries you to your next destination. I’ve come a long way, and with getting a step closer and eventually getting my hands on that baby, it’ll prove that this long road in a ‘recovery’ state, it was worth it after all. Whomever enlisted me into this company without notice will be satisfied with their doings. It was just all a matter of time … |
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| The Scorpion | Sep 9 2011, 03:37 PM Post #6 |
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“Let the heavens declare His righteousness, For God Himself is Judge.” Psalm 50:6 It is a question asked more than any other by young and old alike. An age old phenomenon for which no definitive answer exists to be given. Human beings are born into life asking for answers and go to an earthly grave still without the knowledge. What happens when we die? Is there truly a divine being and holy paradise that exists to house the spirits of the righteous? Does the evil place known as hell, a realm of eternal darkness and fire, truly exist? Do we simply fade into eternal blackness as our flesh returns to the soil? These questions are inevitably asked at least one by every person that populates the world. Even the most devout of the pagan faiths would inevitably question at least once. It is only logical however, for human beings have a subconscious tendency to question that which they know is false. One must note however that the ability to question only exists within the subconscious. For only one of pure heart and soul may hold to right to inquire of the gods, therefore no mere mortal could ever find these answers. The awake and conscious human spirit is scarred and battered by the torturous sin, therefore how is it conceivable for one tainted by evil to see the true evil? Is not their vision blinded by the likenesses that equate the human spirit to evil? The simple answer is that one cannot see anything which his sin-tainted soul does not wish to see. This is why all in the world are damned to destruction, for their belief in false idols and a synthetic messiah angers the true lord. Sinners shall never rest in the hands of an angry god, a fact which will inevitably culminate in the destruction of the spirit. With these facts known, the question still remains unanswered: what happens when a human being passes on to the other side? The simplicity of the solution will shock and anger those who do not wish to hear it, but is the absolute truth. The simple answer is that any who are not properly assimilated with the legitimate Christ will have only eternal damnation to look forward to. Every individual spirit is brought to the altar of judgment; there is no soul exempt from the process. It is here that a great and glorious higher being shall pass his judgment and direct the spirit down one of two paths. One path is a beaten and well-worn path walked by innumerable feet, while the other is a pure and new path, barely touched by the taint of a human spirit. That is because this second path is the path to paradise, whereas the one walked by all culminates in the realm of oblivion. When one speaks of the concept of eternity, it is an astonishingly simple process. There are only two possible ways one’s spirit may travel: to damnation or to paradise. There exists no state of flux, no middle ground, no capability to move from one to another. One will either spend eternity in a beautiful paradise or a fiery pit of despair. Ironically, the great savior’s job of judging is actually quite easy, for it is the individual that ultimately decides his own fate. If one submits to the power of sin and indulges in earthly desires that conflict with the word of god, he will face an eternal hell. Yet if one resists the sin and makes the tremendous sacrifice needed to find favor in the lord’s eyes, he will be given his chance to prove his worth. Should that worth be proven, he would then enter paradise. A simple philosophical equation: resisting sin added to personal sacrifice results in paradise. Yet so few are admitted within the golden gates thanks to perennial human weakness. There are innumerable souls that face the wrath of eternal damnation thanks to their cowardice and inability to resist the harsh temptations placed before them by the wretched sin. Only those of pure spirit may come to find eternal rest within the garden of purity, therefore it is only logical that the garden’s population is of so few. The lord does not grant the essence of purity to those that focus their energies on the worship of false idols and pagan rituals. Instead, the most merciful Holy Father grants the gift of eternity to those who would make the sacrifice needed to prove their worth. It is an incredibly difficult task filled with pain and anguish. Yet at the end the great divinity holds one in his arms and takes away the pain before opening the gate to eternal paradise. Blessed is this magnificent divine being, blessed is the name of the true god! The heartless eyes quickly open and the young one slowly rests his mentally exhausted body with soft rhythmic breaths. The meditation is intense as always, however on this night the young one simply does not feel the pain. He knows that his body is becoming immune to the torment as his soul becomes more and more purified. He knows that after the self-inflicted pain of repentance he has suffered in the past, there is no other bodily discomfort that can possibly affect his psyche. Therefore instead of striving to replenish the energy of his body, the dark one simply relaxes and lets nature do the work. A welcome change from his normal practices, the black heart relaxes and allows his energy to be restored naturally, all while basking in the glory of once again resting within the eternal warmth of god’s light. While resting his still strong and chiseled back against the wall, the evil essence known as The Scorpion slowly turns his head and begins to analyze his current setting. He rests calmly on this night, the dank and dreary abandoned warehouse providing the perfect environment for his preparations. He rests calmly in his trademark apparel, his wardrobe becoming synonymous with the purity of god. The heavy black trench coat has returned now, giving an ever so slight cushion to his back and head as he remains seated against the water-damaged concrete wall. Unlike other instances of preparing for a battle, the young one is completely calm on this night, with no worries or doubts entering into his pure mind. Truly he has seen the wisdom of the great messiah beyond the stars in ordering his previous penance, for after what he has endured any other task asked of him seems all the more trivial. With this air of ease, The Scorpion slowly rises to his feet now and garners a better viewpoint for judging his surroundings. He glances upon the figurative embodiment of human society, as the aged warehouse is caked with dust and filth and populated with old and rotting wooden boxes. Truly this is symbolic, for Mother Earth is currently in this state, as she is tainted by the eternal stain of sinful human feet. She is in a state of rot and decay, simply waiting for the light of god to restore her beauty and true essence. The Scorpion breaks the silence now as he begins to walk forward, the gentle thud of his feet on the concrete floor letting off a slight echo. He walks forward with focus, his destination apparently decided previously. He continues to march forward as if directed by his lord, his pace ever so slightly accelerating so that he may be faster in performing the holy will. He finally ceases his brisk walk upon approaching a small stack of iron beams, apparently used for construction purposes. His target is not the metal however, but instead what rests upon its top. For resting innocently on top of the beams rests three enlarged photographs. As he gazes over it becomes clear that they are pictures of his upcoming opposition: Jimmy Bruno, NV Laroux, & Matthew Moore, the three men who battle him over the object of ever-escalating obsession in the human world. The Scorpion simply stands as still as a statue and stares at the pictures, the pale moonlight illuminating the warehouse through aged windows glinting ever so slightly off of the worn and aged iron. While continuing to stare at the photographs he snickers and cracks a slight grin on his face, the concept of a complete smile foreign to the follower of the lord. However in spite of this he manages to show his amusement, for he knows that no human may ever inflict upon him the caliber of pain he inflicted upon himself, therefore making any attempt to wrest away this upcoming symbol of power being battled for from his holy essence ever so laughable. With this comforting thought in mind, The Scorpion slowly kneels and spreads his arms wide before entering into sweet and holy prayer to his beloved lord and savior… “Father, I am coming to join you soon. The time of Armageddon draws ever closer with each passing second my lord, it is almost time for the final offensive against the pagan forces. I am whole again father; I have once again become the bearer of the seraphic radiance. Your loyal son is reinvigorated and empowered once more, therefore the pagans would seek to take advantage of a momentary weakness will no longer get that opportunity. I have revitalized myself according to your wishes, my power is at its maximum level. Never before has your son been so prepared to perform the holy will, blessed it this beautiful day. As such, I am obligated now to do battle against not one, not two, but THREE unknown encounters, the ones the human race refers to as Jimmy Bruno, NV Laroux, and Matthew More. I will never comprehend the warped logic of the human race my lord. Do the fools truly believe that mere numbers are enough to override the very essence of spiritual purity? It confuses your loyal son, as these men are unnecessarily throwing away their time among the mortal world. Each man believes that since they too has acquired symbols of power in the past that his capabilities have been elevated. Yet if one simply defeats one of his own kind, how is that an indication of improved skills used to battle an enemy?” At this point, The Scorpion is forced to pause and further allow his enlightened mind to process his thoughts. His brain is truly a frightening creation, as his superior intellect allows him to process information at rates that would truly baffle the minds of his opposition. In fractions of a second he has already gone over multiple different reasons for the opposition against his calling to be so forceful. However, he also finds no logical reason for such resistance, ultimately coming back to the previous reason of simple human vanity. Alas, he also knows it is not his place to understand, merely to destroy. Keeping these thoughts in mind, he continues from where he left off… “These foolish and vain men have simply elevated their stock among their mortal brethren, yet it matters not upon our encounter, for even the lowliest of the divine shall always reign supreme over even the greatest earthly champion. It is no matter I must allocate energy to deducing father; I am simply here to perform your holy will. No matter how dedicated or determined they might be all shall find the same result as the others: swift and merciless defeat. I have repented and once acquired the knowledge and power of the gods, there is no earthly being that can stand against me now. Dear higher one, I will battle until the end of my earthly days in your holy name. The executions will only stop at your command, for I shall never fail you again. I lost my focus ever so briefly long ago and it cost me dearly, I swear I shall not make that mistake again. You are my reason to exist father, without you I am nothing. These forsaken souls are truly unfortunate father, for they must incur the wrath of one who is newly empowered with divine light. My rage shall boil over into a raging fire that will burn the humanly flesh from their bones. Jimmy Bruno shall see firsthand the price for failing to maintain spiritual purity. NV Laroux shall confront true darkness and learn that it is a far cry from the subject of his base and ignorant mockeries. Matthew Moore will see that he selected the wrong time to try and bully his way onto life’s stage, for he shall be struck down by the divine light. Blessed is the Grand Design father, the rhythmic motions continue anew. Bless your son father; please watch as I proceed to do your will!” His prayer to the lord completed, The Scorpion calmly rises to his feet and once again resumes his hypnotic gaze upon the pictures. The moonlight continues to shine through the window, so The Scorpion calmly slides his trench coat from his shoulders and lets it fall to the ground, watching a small cloud of dust rises upon its impact. The moonlight gives better insight as to how the young one is preparing for his task, as his body has become even more toned and chiseled, his muscles rippling with renewed size and vigor. It would truly be a travesty if such a physique were to be marred by mortal wounds, yet it matters not for the dark soul, for he knows that all physical wounds shall vanish upon his passage through the golden gates of a resurrected Eden. These thoughts still flowing through his head, the dark one slowly grabs the photographs and holds them in opposite hands, placing two in his right due it being his dominant hand. He gazes longingly at his targets, knowing all too well that he holds in his hands the image of three men that he must destroy solely in the name of furthering his lord and savior. With these thoughts in mind, he slowly tucks the photographs into the waistband of his pants before turning around and walking to another desired location within the warehouse. He walks slowly but steadily, his mind obviously focused on reaching the destination quickly to once again perform an action required of him by the lord above. He stops his trek upon reaching a large, thin piece of sheet metal resting against a nearby wall. The metal is a stark contrast to the rest of the warehouse however, as it is untouched by dust and filth. It appears to have been heavily polished, perhaps by the young one himself, as when The Scorpion stands in front of it he sees a clear reflection of himself in the shiny metal. He slowly gazes at his reflection in the sheet metal, as if staring at the internal spirit housed within his earthly flesh. He sees not a mere mortal but instead an agent of god, a being of divine will empowered to perform the necessary actions needed to further the grand design of fate. Continuously he stares at the reflection gazing back at him via the polished metal, knowing full well the responsibility that comes with bearing such a heavenly aura. He knows that he is the one who will rectify all wrongs, the one that will make paradise arise anew so that the exiled may return home. Truly the righteous have been exiled from Eden thanks to the selfish and heretical actions of the pagans, yet it matters not to the one reflected in the metal. He sees not a religious fanatic but instead a loyal and valiant templar. The embodiment is not a psychotic sociopath but instead a pure and gentle spirit longing for Mother Earth’s pain to end. He knows that his way his true, that the lord god shall protect him no matter what the task. With these thoughts in mind, The Scorpion slowly walks closer to the sheet metal and leans forward. He rests both arms on the wall above the metal before resting his forehead on those same arms, resulting in his eyes becoming mere inches away from the clear reflection. While gazing into that same reflection, he speaks aloud once again to his benevolent father… “Behold the reflection my lord. Behold the visual persona of your eternal servant. Gaze slowly and longingly into the eyes, the window that reflects the interworkings of the soul. It is coming father, soon the arduous tasks laid before me shall be complete. With every passing moment we come closer my savior, closer to achieving our ultimate goal and saving this world. The heretics will forever attempt to thwart my efforts, for they refuse to accept their destinies and would see nobody embrace paradise since they are too unclean to embrace it themselves. Their current representatives are the ones called Jimmy Bruno, NV Laroux, and Matthew Moore; however they are not different from anyone else: fools that ignorantly attempt to mingle in affairs which they have no place in. These souls are the physical embodiment of the spiritual impurities present within the human soul. Each is arrogant and brash, believing himself superior to all when he is in fact nothing more that one of the very “common men” he would see himself as greater than. This paradox is quite common within the human psyche my lord, as one will always accept the concept of a double standard so long as they gain personal benefit from this warping of logic.” The Scorpion pauses once again and now slowly closes his eyes before bowing his head. It is as if he is communicating directly with the gods, outlining the plan of attack he shall utilize to vanquish his enemies. As before though, it is a very quick process as he quickly resumes his gaze upon the reflection, his break lasting barely half a minute before he continues. “However, I ensure you that the equation of perfection I am calculating has no room or tolerance for anomalies. Soon everything will exist within the boundaries of perfection my lord. A perfect paradise in a perfect world for a perfect people. I will stand by your side for all eternity my lord, the loyal templar standing steadfast alongside the throne of god. Many have tried to stop me my lord, yet I have not stopped my tasks even once. I stop only when commanded by your divine will, no other reason is acceptable. My enemies believe in their misguided minds that they will stop me, yet they will fall in defeat just as others have done before. The mortal will never command the divine my lord, it shall always be the antithesis. If the mortals could command the gods than the equation would lack balance and therefore ultimately fail. My lord, I will create a world of pure and perfect balance. Through the physical work of my flesh and the sacrifices made at the hilt of my blade I will restore balance and order to that which now exists only in chaos. Jimmy Bruno? Merely a link in the chain of events. NV Laroux? A stereotypical thug with no concept other than vain pride. Matthew Moore? An unfortunate bystander to the evolution of this planet into a previous form. Bless your son as he begins the process father, for all shall be done in your holy name. Our beloved Eden shall arise soon my lord; I will stop only at your holy command!” The Scorpion quickly goes silent upon completion of his message to the lord, yet does not move from his current posture. He continues to gaze at the reflection of his eyes, as if somehow non-verbally communicating with his own spirit. In the eyes he sees not a killer of innocents but a holy defender of faith ordained by the lord. He sees not a sociopathic misanthrope, but instead a faithful messenger to the holy will. The thought of never being accepted by human society cannot worry one with no attachment to the current world, therefore the dark soul can rest easy knowing that he has nothing to lose with the impending destruction of human society. These thoughts easing his mind, The Scorpion slowly moves away from the sheet metal, taking one last look at the reflection of his soul laid bare before him. He takes this opportunity to once again survey the drab warehouse, again noting the perfect symbolism that comes with his choice of setting. For if one would simply take the time and effort to clean and organize the warehouse, it would become an effective and aesthetic-pleasing place. This same core philosophy is applied to the world, as it shall become a pure paradise once more as soon as the filth and chaos that comes with the human race is eradicated from existence. Yet he is fully aware of the difficulty of his forthcoming task, as he knows that the pagans will retaliate in full force when their precious synthetic paradise is threatened by the most hated of enemies: the truth. It is often said that the truth will set one free. In this instance however it applies not to the people populating human society but instead to Mother Earth herself, as her true children will use the power of destiny to rid the world of its poison and finally end the cycle of pain. With the true world restored Mother Earth will thus be saved. The truth will indeed set her free. With this, The Scorpion casually turns and walks toward the aged and worn door leading out of the warehouse and back into the cesspool of sin known as human society. He softly pats the photographs resting in the waistband of his black pants, knowing that his upcoming possession of the prize that battle for causes nothing but anger and torment to the people, a thought which pleases him greatly. After all, his mission is only to follow the will of god, in no place is he forbidden from relishing in the pleasure that comes will eliminating sin from the world. With this notion in mind, he calmly pats the pictures again, confident that he will never relinquish his upcoming prize from his grasp until he is commanded to do so from the lord. He quickly grabs the door handle and looks to exit, but before he does he calmly bows his head one last time to speak to the stars from within the confines of the dank warehouse… “The horn has sounded to begin the crusade against impurity. At its signal I raise my blade high and signal the charge of the light brigade into battle, fully prepared to be erased from the world in exchange for furthering the campaign for purity. My lord, I am your ultimate soldier. I think not of earthly vices and desires but only of the holy mission. My life is not my own, I am merely a container for which the holy will of god can be performed. The opposition will ultimately fail due to this fact. For while each might be held in high esteem among his mortal brethren, they are coming face to face with the embodiment of the divine will. The equation of purity must remain balanced; therefore he must not be allowed to succeed in his quest to further his never-ending boundaries of human greed. The Grand Design will continue to flow in perfect balance and motion, I will not allow any earthly being or action to disrupt that oh so important flow. I am imbued by the holy light of the heavens so that I may perform the task assigned to me by you my lord, therefore I will not fail you and prove my worth of feeling the warmth of the heavenly aurora. No matter the physical pain I shall press forward. Regardless of the mental and spiritual torment I will continue to persevere. Such determination is not seen with the psyches of normal human beings, a fact which will be most detrimental to their campaigns. Those souls, they do not understand the concept of sacrifice. As opposed to sacrifice, each for is motivated by the sin of greed. Yet they do not realize that one fights for everything only when he owns nothing. If one owns everything, what is there to fight for? This logical question is the major philosophical flaw that will end the pagan revolution against us. They do not know of sacrifice and therefore will be unable to use it as a means of garnering the necessary energy needed to battle. I am fully prepared for my earthly flesh to die in the name of the holy faith; there is no single individual on this planet I will not slaughter in the holy name of god. Even those that you would call friend, I would eliminate them without hesitation at your command. As such, I am commanded now to eliminate the pagan souls. Jimmy Bruno has been marked for elimination. NV Laroux must be punished for his avarice. Matthew Moore must not be allowed to establish his place in human society. I hear and obey. Long live the kingdom of heaven my lord, let us destroy these heretics attempting to siege our holy land!” His final message complete, The Scorpion pushes down the door handle and calmly walks out into the night. He continues on without ever looking back, focused only on his task ahead as he disappears into the seemingly eternal darkness of the night… |
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| Deleted User | Sep 9 2011, 09:48 PM Post #7 |
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NOTE: Post Deadline Edit was just adding the graphic for the RP Title.![]() Being alone with your thoughts is never a good thing when you've faced a tremendous loss, and for N.V. Laroux, it was no different. Even in the shadow created by the loss of his close friend, he was able to adhere to the beliefs of the straightedge lifestyle that guided his life. Still... he had other vices. Publicly, he was holding up amazingly well. He was the picture of strength, standing tall in the face of the death that rocked certain companies in the wrestling world. The Sydney Laroux Memorial show had been a little more than two weeks ago, and N.V. Laroux was the public face of the show. He had organized and booked the show, doing his best to raise funds for Sydney's family to help cover the funeral expenses. The emotional strain he placed upon himself in doing so still weighed heavily upon his soul. If the ”The Wizard of Oz” taught us anything, it was that things are not always as they seem. Behind the proverbial curtain was a man struggling for some semblance, any semblance of normalcy. Ken Davison was a man, just like any other, despite his career that had carried him across the world. He had been fortunate enough to have an opportunity to see the shooting star known as Sydney Laroux streak across the sky. His decision to become this shell of a man known as N.V. Laroux was both tribute and torment. A page from her personal journal sat on the kitchen table in front of him. “I knew that in another life that Ken is my brother. His soul mirrors my own in ways that most people can't begin to understand and I feel that is what connects us enough to each other that whatever comes before him and I, we will overcome it. I envy his knowledge of this game and how he takes charge of it.” Unfortunately, she had failed to overcome the problems in her life. He was so caught up in his own self pity, that the abyss left by Sydney's absence had threatened to swallow him whole. The passion he had for this business, for this industry, was gone. Instead of preparing for his match with Jimmy Bruno, The Scorpion and Matthew Moore, he was pouring over old Facebook conversations, text messages, photos and playing with razors. He sat alone many nights, just as he was doing on this very night, debating on the merit of staying on this earth or joining Syd. The cuts across his arms could easily be hidden underneath the support tape he wrapped around his hands and wrists. His pain was public, but the extent of the pain was a private matter that he would keep to himself. ”Ain't No Sunshine When She's Gone” by Bill Withers plays in the background. Since he received the news, the song had been in constant rotation, playing several times a day. It was her favorite song. N.V. peered down at his cell phone as it began ringing. “Lucas Young” appears on the caller ID, but N.V. Decides to ignore it. A moment later, his house phone begins to ring. He pulls himself out of his chair, his right arm covered in dry blood. Stumbling towards the bathroom, he stops at the sink and the sound of water running is heard. The water shuts off just in time for Lucas Young's voice to come through the answering machine. BEEP Hey, you need to take care of business. I hate seeing you like this. Syd would hate seeing you like this. Hit me back. BEEP ”That bastard” Laroux thought to himself. “How dare he use her name!?” The truth of the matter is that he wasn't mad that Lucas Young had used her name. He was more pissed off about the fact that Lucas was right. He wiped the remains of the dried blood from his arms, then walked into his bedroom to get changed. He few minutes later, he walks out with wearing a brown graphic t-shirt, a pair of faded jeans and a trucker cap. He swipes his aviator glasses and his keys and slams the door behind him, leaving his apartment alone with the radio on. A few hours later... The Porsche Panamera flies into an open spot and stops on a dime. The blaring of heavy metal comes from within the car until the ignition is shut off. The door opens as NV Laroux gets out, slams the door and walks onto the boardwalk. He leans with his back against the railing, sun setting over the ocean behind him. Let me ask you something, Matthew Moore. Do you know what it's like to fight for nothing. I'm sure you do, but do you fight for nothing because you've lost everything that you ever cared about? I doubt it. You talk about the loss of a woman. I can relate to that. I lost the one woman in this world I cared about. This woman was everything to me. She was my friend. She was my confidant. She was the guiding star that could shine through the deepest, darkest of nights. That day, the brightest shooting star I have ever seen burned out. The night I got the news, I tried to cut my wrists so I could join her. This isn't some sort of convoluted story. This is real life. I lost everything on this planet that I cared about. When I found myself alive and breathing that morning, I knew then who I was. Do you know who I was? Nobody. Except on the day after, I was still alive. This nobody had a chance to be somebody. But how the world turns. One day, cock of the walk. Next, a feather duster. Cruel, isn't it? Laroux turns around, taking in the view of the waves rolling in before he continues. I have done nothing but sit home alone with my demons for two weeks. The type of psychosis, that type of self-inflicted torment pales in comparison to the anger and rage that I hold inside. When you fight for nothing, it gives you a great sense of freedom. When there is nothing to lose, you are able to cast aside all trepidation, all of your regrets and all of your morals to do whatever it is you feel is called for to achieve victory. One thing I have learned is that to thrive in this business, you have to be more ruthless than your opponent. What enables a man like me to have succeeded in every other company I have worked for is my willingness to do what I need to do, whether it is using a low blow to bring a so called giant down to my size or kicking a women in the vag. I have to common decency not to do these things, but when you look at the epic battles through out history, from the Revolutionary War to the Vietnam War, the winners were not the biggest armies. They were the most ruthless armies. But this isn't a war, and to try and overstate things would be a disservice to the men and women who have given their lives defending this country. What it is, Matthew, is an opportunity. We both have the opportunity to prove ourselves superior. This is the same opportunity being offered to Jimmy Bruno and The Scorpion. In the end, there can only be one man who will be able to make that claim. And that man will not be you. With my intellect and predatory outlook, I will find your weakness. If I find you do not have a weakness, than I will create one. Then, I will exploit that weakness. When all is said and done, the quote unquote “Highlite Reel” will be broken and burned, never to be viewed in the same light again. Laroux grabs the top of the railing and slings himself onto the beach. He lands on one knee, planting his right hand in the sand to maintain his balance. He stands up and uses his left hand to brush himself off. Of course, Matthew, this wouldn't be much different from your last excursion into the squared circle. Your world, much like mine, has burned all around you, leaving you standing inside the fire. The difference is that you went and you set your world aflame. I didn't ask for this life. I DIDN'T ASK FOR ANY OF THIS!!! You on the other hand... you earned it. You have to scratch, you have to claw your way out of the pit of despair. The truth of the matter is that you dug your own grave. I was thrown in and buried alive. In some ways, I am jealous of you, Matthew. You are fighting for redemption, working your way back from the hell inflicted unto yourself. My life doesn't have the potential of a happy ending. Laroux begins walking down the beach, passing by the sunbathers, surfers and families as though they weren't even there. All of us here in Majestic Wrestling have a new start, a new perspective. The bright lights of Sin City can blind most mortal men and women, but not me. I have the single minded focus to avoid such things. Just like you, Matthew, I like to cause pain to people. I like the toy with their emotions, verbally eviscerating them in one breath and sewing them up the next. As you are going to learn, Matthew, I also enjoy causing people physical pain. You made the idiotic observation that I came to play. What you don't realize is that in that cage, I am your God... and I don't play God. Playing is for children. While you skulk around like a rat, hiding in shadows and attacking people from behind. One thing you will learn about me is I am very upfront and honest about things. I won't stab you in the back. I will stab you in the chest. As he comes to a sudden halt, a creepy smirk crosses his face. He raises his fist and loosens his grip slightly, causing grains of sand to begin falling out. The fact of the matter is this. With every sand that passes through the hour glass, Salvation draws that much nearer. Only I have put in the time, the dedication and the diligence that is required to know the ins and outs of all three of my opponents. It is the minor nuances, the miniscule idiosyncrasies that will determine who is the first to escape the cage. And while you are trying to escape your proverbial rusty cage, Matthew, I will be escaping the literal cage at Salvation. And just before I drop to the floor, I will stand at the top of the cage, and look down upon you, Bruno and The Scorpion like conquering hero that I am. Believe that. Unfortunately for the rest of you, your time... Laroux opens his palm and blows the few remaining grains of sand directly into the lens of the camera. ...has run out. Laroux laughs maniacally for a few seconds before stopping dead in his tracks and staring a hole through the camera. |
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2:58 PM Jul 11