| Welcome to The Pitt. We hope you enjoy your visit. You're currently viewing our forum as a guest. This means you are limited to certain areas of the board and there are some features you can't use. If you join our community, you'll be able to access member-only sections, and use many member-only features such as customizing your profile, sending personal messages, and voting in polls. Registration is simple, fast, and completely free. Join our community! If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features: |
| Viking Roots; Valkyrie/Apathy vs Rebel/Mallory | |
|---|---|
| Tweet Topic Started: Sep 25 2015, 08:56 PM (12 Views) | |
| Post #1 Sep 25 2015, 08:56 PM | Valkyrie |
|
The Omega Academy. Self styled to be one of the toughest wrestling schools to get into, and graduation proves to be even harder than getting one of the bunks as a student. There are always empty bunks at the Academy and regular Boot Camps where often times, a bunk is given to the soul survivor of the class. Those who get a bunk then become privy to the Academies secrets. Valkyrie wasn't the first to walk into Omega's walls, wasn't the first woman to do so either, in a place where many students came from fan backgrounds, Valkyrie hadn't. Until she'd met her trainer in the gym where she'd been lifting iron, she'd never even seen a match, having found out that her mother had not only wrestled briefly, but her career had been ended after being assaulted in a parking lot by three other wrestlers. She'd not wanted her children anywhere near which is why she had been so opposed to Valkyrie leaving for America. Valkyrie wasn't the first to take the walk through the door, and wasn't the first to consider running away during the introduction “speech” that everyone gets, which is two minutes of being called idiots seeking glory for little gain, which scattered around half the class so the rest could be introduced to the hard world of Omega's training. She was the first to graduate the Academy though. Eight matches in Japan, back to back nights with anyone who lost being sent back home to carry on training. Her status of being tall and powerfully built gave her the edge in Japan, and her willingness to throw people around and fight dirty behind the referee's back had gained her a lot of heat for doing so. The Gauntlet taught the lesson that you do what you have to do to survive. Her picture on the wall in a Tokyo steakhouse, along with a purple satin jacket, she knew she'd made it. Getting booked after that hadn't been easy until GPW hired her and put her in matches for the West Coast Championship, a reign that had only been eclipsed by one other person but in her mind, GPW didn't want her anywhere near their World Championship. Forced to the background had made her distrust the team dynamic, and caused her to admit she was only part of Head Office for the money and getting to smash people in the face. Having signed to The Pitt, Valkyrie had stated her intentions that she would run riot through the roster on her terms until she became the Champion, and that none of the other women would be safe from her. And the first card declared that the self proclaimed Great Dane Bitch found herself being placed in a Tag Team Match. Someone, namely both of her opponents, were about to get hurt. On Camera. Inside of Omega, cameras were banned to prevent rival groups from learning the secrets, permission had to be gained and then it was limited in areas as to where there could be shooting during training hours. A camera had been set up by the heavy bags and dressed in black shorts, a white tank top with the names of every Omega graduate under the Academy logo. Despite using the heavy bag, Valkyrie didn't have any gloves on or any tape on her fists, trained in the British style that she used in addition to her heavy lifting power, which made closed fist punches a disqualification, she lashed at the bag with forearm strikes and elbows, mixing it up with a headbutt every so often. Each strike hit hard, a vile strike that employed technique and dirty boxing without using a closed fist. But the look on the Danish warrior maiden's face made it clear: hitting a fucking punch bag, no matter how heavy, isn't as satisfying as an opponent. But the ridges of bone that formed on the Dane's forearms from the striking practise showed that she had drilled this practise for the six years she had been a student, each ridge a slight fracture that had healed up with a calcium deposit over the top, a technique used by groups like the Shaolin Monks of China, who would do the same exercises daily so they could perform their feats, techniques practised by Muay Thai kickboxers who would strike at trees until the nerves in their shins were numbed and their bones were baseball bats that made the fights more brutal. “Fucking didn't want to start it off like this, because hell, Michelle Taylor gets a singles match that will ultimately end up turning itself into a five hundred on one at some point when all her minions get involved with the bout, and yet I make an appearance, kick a few folks in the face and I'm put into a tag team contest? So be it, it wasn't what I planned on doing but never let it be said that this bitch can't work as an effective team with anyone. Apathy, I will tell you right now that if the opportunity to throw the two kusser we're fighting in this match into disarray, take the blind tags if necessary. I've been in a couple of tag teams and I told those guys the exact same thing. You have issues with the people more in this match than I do so far, and I want to win by making sure I get off to a damn good start.” “Sadly that means ladies that I have no intention of sitting back on the sidelines and letting you have your wicked way with Apathy. Because it's not purely about you and whatever you think affects your career. I've been warned not to Superkick anymore none talents, despite the fact that not being punished last week has set a precedent and I would be able to argue any firing. Sadly for you and Mallory, butchering my last name has put you right on top of that kick list, and ladies, eternity in the company of Hel and her cold, dead domain filled with those tortured souls who died in battle will be a picnic compared to what could be.... ten minutes with me and this right hand.” She raised a fist up as she spoke, rolling her eyes at the ten minute time limit. “Ever since I walked into this company, I've been wondering who's the heart and soul, beloved of the fans that I have to grip by the throat and make a fist. If you two belong in that spot, I don't know but considering that you have bitched about unfair treatment regarding certain people Rebel, I would say it's not you.” “People have entered this business for many reasons, some of it dating back to the Carnival circuit where wrestlers would quite often compete against members of the public for cash prizes in what would often be a No Rules bout. In the United Kingdom, this was happening at the Blackpool Booth until the late 1980's and the people who entered would often be cocky fighters seeking to prove themselves, drunken Northerner's. Occasionally there would be a fighter who didn't need the money but wanted to prove themselves to be a fantastic fighter in their own right, and if you asked my trainers uncle, he would tell you that any rich Kusse who got into the ring to prove themselves would be humoured until proven too dangerous and broke a number of arms and tore shoulders out of place to end those prizefights. And the way it's told, a tougher time.” “As far as I'm concerned Rebel, taking a job as a pro wrestler is a risk, because I've had it drilled into me from training that you watch your back from the moment you walk enter the backstage area, all the way through your match and all the way until you leave the building parking lot. If you want to fight me before or after the sanctioned fight, go ahead and get the jump on me if you can find me to do so, just be aware that I will retaliate with any means necessary. Probably won't involve stabbing someone because I don't know if your words are true or necessarily give a fuck. You come across as some whiny little shit who thinks that the world owes them a debt and that pro wrestling follows a set of rules that belongs inside your own thick headed skull. I don't need to throw punches to take care of business, I will throw you around like a sack of potatoes and show you how the Omega students fight against everyone with the tenacity of a starving Pitbull that grabs you bu the throat and shakes until the blood sprays.” She paused her offence against the punchbag, leaning down and grabbing a bottle of water from the floor which she took a long swig from, sealing the cap with a press against her teeth as she walked, camera turning with her, striding towards the workbench. “As for you Mallory, I am perfectly aware of the role of the Valkyrie's in the time of strife. When battles were fought, they would choose the bravest warriors who had died and take them to Valhalla, where they would fight all through the day and drink at night. I'm probably one of the few beings who still follows the path of worshipping Odin, Thor, Freyja and Loki. Each God and Goddess has a place in my Day and I pay tribute to them through doing what I do best: kicking the everloving shit out of people and getting paid for doing so. I don't claim to be some holy warrior sent down by the Gods to do their bidding for them, at the end of the day I'm a 6'1” human frame with two hundred pounds of solid muscle capable of lifting weight equivalent to around five or six people on this roster on her shoulders and slamming them down. Muscles that are trained and work in peak together like a good team should do.” “The history between you and Apathy though, doesn't concern me, and no I won't stay put and let you take an easy win, because even if I don't get pinned, that's a stain on my record that I have to carry because it still counts as me losing. Each of those stains in particular is not acceptable if I can't fight and end up not being involved in that final decision. I'm going to walk into that ring and throw you around like the Dwarves Fjalar and Galar after they murdered the Jotun Gilling and his wife by the son of the two. Unlike an angry Jotun who lost both his parents though, you won't be able to buy me off with the Mead of Poetry, made from the blood of Kvasir who was made from the spit of the entire Pantheon by the Allfather.” Stepping over to the squat rack, Valkyrie began loading it up with a heavy bar and a decent maintenance weight to keep her muscles pumped without going overboard, balancing up the sides in her head. “But it won't be the words of God's who order me into battle. I fight because tearing shit apart is the one thing I've always been good at, like my ancestors who crossed the North Sea from Denmark and raided the kingdoms of England on more than one occasion, who worked as Mercenaries for the Greeks of Byzantium and of our Norse brothers and sisters who were the first Europeans to cross the Atlantic to discover America. I'm not here to be a Mercenary, I'm not here to be an explorer, I'm a raider through and through. I will stomp my way through everyone and anyone that the bossman wants to place in front of me to hold the Championship when the champion is crowned, I don't care how many teeth I have to force down throats, how many bones I have to break to accomplish my goal and destiny of being the Ultimate Bitch.” “Let's see if you see the axe coming before it strikes ladies...” And without a single word, focus on the weight which now easily held over five hundred pounds, the videofeed dissolved to static. |
|
|
![]() |
| 1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous) | |
| « Previous Topic · Archives · Next Topic » |







1:25 AM Jul 11