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| Claire Bailey vs. the Scorpion; Non Title, Champion vs. Champion | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Dec 19 2011, 04:23 AM (275 Views) | |
| Allocco | Dec 19 2011, 04:23 AM Post #1 |
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Majestic Owner
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/Deadline: 12.30.11 @ 11:59:59 PM EST RP Limit: 3 Venue: Royale Majestic Casino, Las Vegas, Nevada Please post your RPS within the match thread. |
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| Claire Bailey | Dec 25 2011, 09:57 AM Post #2 |
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1 of 2: Youth in Revolt :: Episode III |
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| The Scorpion | Dec 29 2011, 09:52 PM Post #3 |
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"But his flesh will be in pain over it, and his soul will mourn over it." Job 14:22 Pain. A sensation that all fear, yet at the same time a feeling that can provide the human mind with a revelation as to the reasons certain things occur. It is through pain that we are able to truly prioritize the thoughts and feelings permeating the human psyche. It is through pain that the eternal mistress known as fate demonstrates that despite our best efforts, she is still in control. It is through pain that we are able to see past the smokescreen and witness the true reality that our frail and shallow egos would otherwise disregard as false or imagined. Only through such pain can our senses truly be retrained to focus on that which is true rather than that which we desire. It is this truth that people fear, the reason they fear pain so greatly. Pain itself does not injure, it is what pain reveals that people are truly hurt by. The question however, is why does the fear exist in the first place? Why are people so afraid of reality that they embrace that which they know to be false? Why are they so loathed to the idea of reality that they would willingly submit to eternal torment for the small and finite feeling of comfort they experience during the course of mortal life? The answer is a simple formula: reality combined with weakness breeds denial. Human beings are in denial about their weakness. They refuse to acknowledge their natural inferiority and instead cling to the lies they are fed by leaders for the sole intention of keeping them compliant. They refuse to recognize and accept that there are higher and mightier forces governing the universe. This alone is the reason pain is so hated and feared, as it snatches the lies away from them and forces them to face reality. When a human body suffers from physical pain, bizarre reactions can and will occur. The senses heighten and take on a will of their own, overriding the desires of the human soul and seeking out that which is true. For example, it is often said that when death approaches a human sees his life flash before his eyes. This paranormal occurrence is an example of such a heightening. In such a state, the body reverts to its natural impulses and becomes in tune with nature once again. In this lone state, emotions are finally cast aside and the senses seek out that ultimate truth, a truth so hated and despised by an inferior human race that its very existence is denied. This is why human beings will never be able to overcome destiny, there are held back by their inability to accept the harsh truth of reality. It is truly an unfathomable and impossible task to even begin to understand the workings of a human mind. The human mind is possibly the most frightening location in all of existence, as it is place completely devoid of logic and reason. The human mind, despite supposedly being housing for intelligence, is in fact the most base and ignorant of all locations in life. One would like to think people are not so blind as to merely ignore all that which possibly presents a problem, but what other logical explanation is there for their actions? There is none, which is the absolute epitome of why the human race is destined to perish from this universe. This is why pain is necessary for all humans who wish to walk among the saved of the new Eden, as they must be able to see nothing but the absolute truth. It is commonplace of the world to encounter scenarios we wished had never happen. Indeed, one would be hard pressed to find any living soul of any status that has not undergone a situation they wish would not have occurred. However, how does merely turning a blind eye to that which one dislikes going to solve the problem? This very statement epitomizes the sin-influenced way of thinking that must be eradicated if the power of the gods is to shower this world with its holy light once again. Followers of the true faith realize their inherent weakness and place themselves under the kind and gentle care of the high and mighty lord in the stars above. As a result of this pure and noble sacrifice, they are deemed worthy of admittance unto the resurrected Eden so they might serve him and walk among the immortals. Those that choose to sacrifice humanity for immortality suffer a long and harsh journey riddled with pain and agony. The anguish and torment reaches near unbearable levels, ascending to heights that would drive even the toughest of men to his absolute limit of pain tolerance. However, pain will always fade and agony is but a temporary feeling. It all becomes worthwhile when at the end of their suffering these brave souls finally catch a glimpse of light at the end of their tunnels. For the light at the end of the tunnel is the light from the holy hand of god himself, waiting to hoist the newly purified soul unto the pillar which houses ultimate paradise. That is why the strong and pure are able to endure even the harshest of pain. Pain might be universal feeling, but it is still a feeling nonetheless, a simple feeling that eventually goes away... These are the thoughts and ideas flowing through the pure mind of the lord's holy messenger. He realizes how difficult the pain is to endure, for he himself was the first brave individual to undertake the difficult task of purifying his own soul. However, he realizes that it is the only way of achieving placement among the gods, and thus has dedicated his remaining bodily existence to increasing the amount of servants the great lord in the skies might have to help perform his will. He realizes also that human beings fear pain and will never accept it being administered unto them, thus necessitating the use of force to get them to understand. Much like small children, they must be shown in actions when words simply do not work. He knows that the sinful will be purged and the righteous saved, thus his only remaining task is to weed out the few righteous that still exist among the damned. However, will these poor lost sheep be able to comprehend the greatness of the gifts he is about to impart upon them? Will their shallow and fragile psyches be able to comprehend a truth that is anathema to everything that have come to feel and believe? These are the questions that continually plague the messenger of destruction as he comprehends the task ahead of him, utilizing the logical thinking skills granted to him by the Holy Father. He stands high above the worthless infidels even now, both ideologically and physically. The pale moonlight raining down its illumination onto the dreary gray concrete, the dark one mars the scenery with his presence even now. Standing idle like a statue as the gentle wind blows his flowing hair the black soul rests easy on his perch. The dilapidated building stands tall above the broken down streets, providing a perfect place for the messenger of god to gaze down upon the damned. Like a hawk seeking out his pray the young one stands on the edge of the broken down old building, eyeing his prey down below, seemingly trying to decide when he should strike. He shifts focus momentarily and gazes upward, staring blankly into the glorious light of heaven emitted from the ultimate soul of god. His spirit connected with his father, the dark one is able to close his eyes and relax despite his proximity to the edge of the rooftop, for he knows that he is protected by the holy light of the lord. As in all walks of his difficult and arduous life, the young soul's lone source of comfort is the knowledge that he exists for a higher cause, for a goal that is so supreme only the most enlightened of minds can possibly comprehend its greatness. Standing as a lone pillar of light among hoards of darkness, he exists as the physical manifestation of the power of god. He murmurs softly under his breath a brief prayer to the savior before lowering his head and once again gazing down at the down below. He continues to gaze with a sneer on his face as he opens his mouth to speak alone with his benevolent savior... "Zealot. Templar. Fanatic. Over the course of drawing breath in the human form, I have been accosted by a multitude of various labels. These labels have come in many varieties, with the one constant being a decidedly negative connotation. But father, recently I have come to be known by new labels. These labels are of a decidedly different context, yet they still hold a negative connotation. Sadistic. Crazed. Insane. Am I insane? Am I crazy? To be frank, these are answers that even I do not know. The pain shoots through my flesh even at this moment, the agony it takes to even bend my elbow enough to drive a normal pain to his very limits of tolerance. And yet, I do not mind the anguish. Is this due to insanity? Is this due to masochistic tendencies? As always, the answer is not as simple as the question it responds to. For you see I exist on a higher plain, a form of existence foregoing the limitations placed upon a soul by the normal traits of humanity. I am beyond humanity, for I have embraced true reality. Reality is not based upon perception, not based upon what the human mind envisions it to be. Reality in its purest form is the physical manifestation of the will of god. To truly have a pure existence, one must devote his life to the divine will, for it is the only true reality." The Scorpion takes the brief moment to pause and draw in a deep and rejuvenating breath. As the precious oxygen empowers his body his mind slowly starts to drift to the innumerable gifts that nature bequeaths unto the denizens of her flesh. To live on the planet is to live with the planet, yet so many rape and pillage the innocence of the world in the name of base human desires. Such a thought is anathema to the young one's existence, a slap in the face to the very will of god... However, he quickly pushes the thoughts out of his mind so that the rage does not boil over. Instead, he calmly refocuses and continues from where he left off. "This is why the presence of labels is so meaningless in the grand scheme of things, since at this moment a prideful woman named Claire Bailey has sought to label herself as the ultimate roadblock, the lone entity that will stop me from reaching a greater goal. Based upon this description, one would logically look at this as indicative of her belief to assume a pure nature. However, how can this be the case with one who has not thrown himself upon the mercy of the divine? The simple answer is that it cannot be. While labels might say that Claire Bailey is a pure soul with the courage and bravery of a champion fighter, a virtuous woman willing to stand up to the hated enemy and derail his plans, the reality is that she is just like all the rest. Labels would claim that I am nothing more than a zealot obsessed with dogma, while the reality is that I am a monolithic juggernaut, the illegitimate son of god. Those that would label me as insane are the same ones that would claim their perceptions as true reality, thus immediately shattering any semblance of credibility. They ask why I would inflict such seemingly torturous actions upon my own flesh, but the truth is that I am not. They perceive torture and insanity, when the truth is that I am merely displaying my devotion to a greater cause. I feel no pain because I am of divine magnificence. I disregard anguish because I am shielded by the golden light of angelic wings. Heavenly father, they do not know the truth. I am not insane, I am simply...pure." With his bizarre soliloquy delivered, the blessed soul steps back from the edge and back to the relative safety of the center of the rooftop. Once there he gazes upward into the moonlight, as if trying to see the face of his lord in the stars. Through the veil of pale moonlight he sees the shadows stretching out their hands, the hands of dark demons wishing to drag him down into the cesspit of normal humanity. However his sanctuary is within the boundaries of the moonlight, for it is representative of the illumination given off by the golden heavenly aura of god. Letting himself seemingly be absorbed into the moonlight, the young fighter slowly lets his mind be at peace and wandering, perfectly content with the protection he is being afforded by a being far greater than he. The young one continues his gaze upward even now, almost as if looking for some sort of sign... He apparently receives his sign, but something strange occurs as his eyes squint in confusion, almost as if he is unsure of what he has apparently been instructed to do. Such confusion is uncommon for the dark soul, as he is of considerable intelligence and is also finely tuned with the wants and desires of the greater beings. Seemingly unable to solve this riddle on his own, he quickly kneels and spreads his arms in prayer to his father, remaining in that position for several moments. He eventually receives the instructions he is looking for and slowly rises to his feet. The look on his face is one of resigned hesitance, a look indicating that despite his not wanting to undertake certain actions, he most do so for the holy one. Once completely upright, he smacks his right fist into his left open palm and bows deeply in a sign of acknowledgement, understanding now what he has been ordered to do. Following his apparent instructions, the dark soul known as The Scorpion slowly steps around the door leading into the building and disappears behind a darkened corner. He quickly reemerges carrying a large bundle of sticks and large metal canister. He quickly sets the canister down nearby and proceeds to completely saturate each stick with the liquid inside. Once this is done, he lays the sticks down in a perfect, very precise pattern. There is a rhythmic, almost robotic pace at which he operates, with each task being completed in similar time and with a precise attention being paid to detail. He completes his task with the utmost haste and now slowly steps back to examine his work. With all of this done, he kicks the canister can out of the way and quickly takes off his trench coat. He produces a small book of matches from a coat pocket and walks right over to the soaked sticks with a small smirk on his face. Once at the sticks, The Scorpion proceeds to stand directly on the edge of the pattern and quickly picks up a match. The scene is eerily similar to a previous episode in which the flames of hell were unleashed upon his flesh; however the bizarre soul appears to be operating under complete control. With his task completed and his mind seemingly at ease, he strikes it on the match book cover and tosses to matchbook aside before holding the match high over the strange pattern of sticks. He puts his hand directly over the center of the pattern and quickly opens it, watching the match as it drops and ignites the sticks! Once this is done, it becomes clear that The Scorpion has done something quite odd, as not only has he soaked the sticks in some type of flammable substance, but he has also placed the sticks in formation to form a flawless inverted pentagram! The Scorpion quickly throws off his black muscle shirt and bows once more in obedience to the lord above. Once the bow is over, he takes a deep breath to steel his resolve before stepping directly into the burning pentagram! He stands directly in the center of it as the flames continue to dance, undoubtedly catching his long black pants on fire! The Scorpion stands there with his legs spread wide apart, while he drops his arms and balls his hands into fists. He then begins to shake in a bizarre hybrid of pain and anger, apparently willing himself to withstand the heat of the fire! He continues to shake as the flames feed off the material of his pants and shoot upward, burning his exposed arms and torso. Nevertheless, The Scorpion shuts his eyes and continues to fight the pain as the flames dance. Finally, he seemingly has had enough and jumps straight back, landing a good distance away from the fire, but then looks down and notices that his long black pants are still burning! He remains calm however, and simply jumps up and delivers a lightning fast spinning kick, the wind caused by his movements extinguishing the flames. With the fire out, The Scorpion seemingly ignores the obvious pain in his body and quickly kneels once again in prayer to his beloved savior. "Holy Father, look down and see the extent I will go to in order to see the glint of praise in your magnificent eyes. The smell of burning flesh, the stickiness of gushing blood, or the seemingly earth-shattering sound of breaking bones, all common sounds one hears as a loyal warrior of god. But once again, it quite simply just does not matter. I will walk through the fires. I will fight through the pain. I will overcome the adversity. All because I wish to earn the eternal right to tread the same soil as divine feet. Walking through the gateway leading into the fires, I focus solely on the task ahead of me. At the end of that tortuous road is a lone man professing to be something he is not. The one named Claire Bailey stands at the end of that path, proudly and arrogantly believing that she holds some foolish sense of honor by daring to stand in my way. Unfortunately for her though, while she might be able to fool the masses, she cannot fool the gods. With the knowledge of the ancients flowing through me, I am able to once again ascend to a greater plain of existence and filter out all but the absolute truth. This ascension comes at a severe price, but it is a price that is so very worth paying. The searing pain of burned flesh is nothing compared to the glory of an enlightened mind. Some would say that only the insane would accept such a trade, while the truth is that only the insane would turn such an offer down." At this point, The Scorpion once again is forced to pause and draw breath, apparently as a means of further resisting the incredible pain in his flesh. Nevertheless, he maintains his perfect posture and seemingly wills himself to shut out the pain. The show of devotion is truly amazing, for he does not sway once from his intended goal and maintains complete focus. Once he is rejuvenated, he quickly resumes from where he left off. "The one called Claire Bailey would turn down the offer, instead clinging to a false manifestation of status. The one called The Scorpion however; he would gladly accept any brutality that he had to endure in order to achieve such glory. A temporary, fleeting moment of anguish in exchange for an eternity of heightened enlightenment? It is one of the rare instances where the answer is far less complex than the question. This enlightenment is one of the many sources of divine power, but it shall be the primary means of support with which I shall end the illusion of human purity and defend the very symbol that supposedly provides it. A declaration of purity should come only from the pure, thus there is no other living organism in the world worthy to hold it other than the one who is a warrior under the direct command of the divine. The soft words whispered upon divine breath, imparting unto me the wisdom of the gods. Through this wisdom I shall triumph and through this triumph I shall herald the holy name. The gods look down and smile at the upcoming reality, for soon all shall be in balance once again. The impure shall lay defeated, while the pure stand triumphant, eventually laying claim to the very symbol that expresses that same purity. Blessed be those of pure blood my lord...for it is only the impure blood that will be spilled." Once the bizarre prayer is completed, the young zealot known as The Scorpion quickly walks over to his trench coat and puts it back on, the cool leather perhaps providing some need comfort to the burns on his forearms and torso. Despite the pain, The Scorpion continues to endure in the name of true faith. He remembers that pain is a fleeting moment, a finite period of time that will always end at some point. He understands that for an eternity of paradise, a temporary punishment is a small and welcome price to pay. He quickly picks up the muscle shirt and throws it over his shoulder, apparently looking to leave. However this does not occur, as The Scorpion quickly walks back over to the edge of the building and gazes down once more into the sea of humanity that swirls beneath him. With a very visible level of content he sneers as he looks down, obviously sickened by the oblivious and unconcerned patrons that populate the shell once called Mother Earth. He hates their thoughtlessness, realizing that they care nothing about the world or the fate that is to befall them. He detests their arrogant beliefs that they are the supreme entity of the planet when all they have is due solely to the grace and generosity of the gods above. He despises their refusal to accept the faith as their means of salvation. It can be said that The Scorpion does not hate a single entity, but rather despises the very essence of humanity itself... He continues to gaze down slowly at the metropolis below, his advanced brain processing information derived from the events that he is casually witnessing. From a casual onlooker's standpoint, he resembles a troubled individual perhaps contemplating ending his own life with a plunge to the ground below. Like so many other weaklings would do, he gives the facade of one that would cowardly end their existence rather than be forced to fight and justify their existence. If those onlookers only knew the reality of the dark figure at the top of that worn down building. If they only knew that his true purpose for existence was to ensure the complete eradication of everything they have come to know and love. If those people only knew how dangerous that man in black truly was, they would think twice about feeling sympathetic... He ends his enigmatic glaze over the bustling life below and turns back around towards the center of the roof. He walks toward to rooftop door, seemingly ignoring the still blazing fire of the inverted pentagram he created. He approaches the door and reaches out for the handle, but then stops and turns around. He gazes calmly into the blaze of the fire now, the dancing flames reflected in the glassy green color of his eyes. The flames are almost beautiful in their simplicity and power, as they destroy everything around them. For no matter how strong an object might be, the reality is that everything burns. Such a reality is also true for a planet, and it is with this in mind that The Scorpion unleashes one final heartfelt message to the lord beyond the stars. "Do you sense it my lord? Do you sense the impending arrival of the charging steeds? As Armageddon draws closer I am to be met by the army of darkness, the manifestation of humanity's true sinful nature. An entire army against a lone entity, the odds of success so inconsequential they cannot be accurately compiled through human mathematics. Yet despite this, that lone warrior still does not as much as blinking an eye. How? How can he stand steadfast in the wake of near-certain destruction? You already know the answer to that father, as you are the reason I might stand alone. Lifted up by the heavenly light, I achieve a heightened sense of power that not even the limitless potential of dreams could truly formulate. A lone warrior reviled and hated for his words, standing steadfast in the wake of certain slaughter, his faith never once waning despite the fact that a simple condemnation of his beliefs would end his suffering. Such a familiar and poetic scene, the epitome of human cruelty. Why do I not simply end the suffering? The reason is that I would rather be a pure martyr than an impure minion. Purity is the optimum state of existence, a form that almost none can truly obtain. Regardless of symbols or labels, true purity cannot be obtained by one constrained by the parameters of imperfection that humanity brings. This is why the one named Claire Bailey is a liar and deceiver, for she would herald a status of purity that is impossible for her to obtain. I, on the other hand, am the true pure one despite the absence of any such labels. Of course the ignorant sheep will not admit it, for I am hated due to my inability to tell them what they wish to hear. As a result, my message is cast aside as the ramblings of a crazed man living in delusion. The ironic part of course is that while I am the only one being ignored, I am also the only one telling the truth. Just as King Lear disregarded the words of the Fool due to his own biased perception, the masses disregard the words of anyone that doesn't meet their own biased criteria. Although she meets no real requirement for the title, the one named Claire Bailey is seen as pure. I continue to stand on the mound, awaiting the approach of the army of infidels. And who else do I see leading the charge...but this one called Claire Bailey. However, despite these supposed advantages, it will not matter in the end. Hatred does not override truth and denial does not trump reality. In our epic struggle, despite the odds, it will be the holy messenger who wins the day. Will it be due to insanity? Will it be to a seemingly inhuman tolerance for physical pain? No, because the answer is far simpler than that. Why will it be I who is victorious? The same reason for all the other successful missions in the name of god...because I am greater than man." His final message decreed, The Scorpion now turns and departs through the rooftop door. The scene slowly fades to black as the flames continue to dance on the rooftop, calmly reflecting off the night sky... |
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| Claire Bailey | Dec 30 2011, 08:01 PM Post #4 |
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OOC Note #1: I had a fun time for this match. I think we did a good number for this, don't you think buddy? 2 of 2: Youth In Revolt :: Episode IV |
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3:08 PM Jul 11