| The Iron Kick; vs. Nyla Lazado | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Dec 29 2016, 07:06 PM (68 Views) | |
| Maz | Dec 29 2016, 07:06 PM Post #1 |
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He wanted a war ... He GOT a war and more! They always say be careful of what you wish for, but Rowyn he decided against that wise old-adage that been a phrase for centuries. He ignored it and he paid dearly for it. He wanted out for revenge with those seething red daggers that were his eyes as he was like a bull, he was ready to do his worst. He couldn’t, he failed. Rowyn Starr was no “Star” at all inside that Siberian Prison. More like a Shooting Star. One second he was there it seemed, the next he disappeared. He got neutralized. Better yet, neutered. Hijacking that flight back on that helicopter, I felt reborn. I felt like I never felt before. Unleashed. Being held within that Siberian Prison, it makes you think about a lot. Cold, frigid temperatures, being behind those cells, staring at that bastard’s face across the other side, when Toast found his way inside and let us out. It was relief. Then Toast got a bite taken out of him. How unfortunate. How unfortunate that no one gives a shit about that? Feelings. The Iron Kick You may be right I may be crazy But it just may be a lunatic you're looking for Turn out the light Don't try to save me You may be wrong for all I know But you may be right Wildly murmuring to himself, Maz held the widest, brightest smile in what had to be a first. If you knew Masaru, he never really smiled. He never much expressed his feelings or emotions, usually a blank expression, forcing one to think of how he felt. It was difficult but this moment right now, Inoue was a happy as could be. Humming now to what was a classic from Billy Joel, “You May Be Right”, nodding along to the lyrics and the hook as that smile remained visible as he sat somewhat comfortably in the back of that same Chevrolet Cruze that his partner-in-crime manager had purchased short-while ago. He watched Maz closely in the backseat, nod and move his head to the song as he shook his head. “Yeah, you would dance to that, wouldn't you? Lunatic fringe and crazy. Song fits you to a tee.” Tony spoke, shooting a smirk of his own to his client. “Why the hell am I, in the first place listening to Billy Joel in my damn ride?” Tony asked, questioning his ownself on that of the choice of radio station playing. “Afraid to admit?” Maz mumbled low, but good enough to where Tony could slightly hear him. “Come again damnit?!” A puny laugh escaped from Maz whose eyes trailed back towards Tony. “Are you afraid to admit?” “Afraid to admit what?” You could hear the dwindling change of tone in his voice as he took a spare moment to look at Maz. ”...That you are “bat-shit” crazy and insane as me. As Billy Joel. You’re afraid to be oneself. You torture me for being who I am but here you are, holding within your wild tendencies. I can feel those vibes within you, Tony!” “I...I should’ve never asked.” Tony said with a depressed look on his face while he turned his attention back to the road. “You need help that I can’t provide, homie. You on some serious acid withdrawal.” Maz giggling lowly in the back, he shook his head. “But you still didn’t answer the question. It’s fine though, I know deep down what you really are Tony!” “Nah, nah ... you ain’t using that freaky, psychosis shit on me like you do everyone else. I’m not the problem that needs to be solved. It’s you! I mean what would possess you to just openly admit to physically disabling a person, let alone a female in a match?” Tony had asked as he tried to keep his focus on the road. Masaru’s eyes lit up as he was being called out. “Whatever do you mean, Tony? What did I do?” Again with the minimal laughter and giggles, Tony just shook his head as Masaru tilted his head. “Hm? What did I do? Oh wait...you mean that faulty light bulb I get to break at Redemption?” A long, annoying sigh came from Tony as he held his hand over his face, unsure of what to say or how to say it without getting his head swiped off. He knew this was going to be a long process. The fix wasn’t going to be easy, he knew that but to try and get his client to follow simple rules, it was an unwanted struggle. "Hey, I like that Nyla chick, she got style. I do agree you will beat her but jesus, don’t kill her!" Tony pleaded to his client, trying to aide him from going those lengths. "I don’t know where all your anger stems from dude, but you can’t just keep putting hits out on talent. Not good for the company you work for." Masaru shrugged, not really holding an ounce of care in the world for his “manager” and his wants. "She’s not apart of Phoenix, so she’s a stray." "True, but she is like the others in battle this week, trying to prove that they belong in the Iron King Tournament. You injure her, she won’t be able to go through." Again Maz shrugged his shoulders, "And that’s whose fault if she gets injured? She came to me, remember? She want that nice, clean headshot." Tony just held up his hand, performing a facepalm as his hand slid down his face moments after. He was stuck. "You really hold no second thoughts do you?" "Don’t they always say to go with your first gut instinct, never the second?" Maz replied, asking a question right back. "Yeah, sorta, sometimes ... once in a while type thing. Choose with your initial gut instincts. But that doesn’t relate to what I asked. Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you man?" Tony asked as there were more questions asked than answers being given. Maz couldn’t help but to again shrug his shoulders, no care, no wants to really respond back. Just held that questionable smile on his face. "Hey Tony? Tony?" After a few seconds of a pause without a quick reply, Tony responded, "Yeah man, what?" "Did I ever tell you the story a few years back about this guy named Sebastian Mandadi?" Ending that question with a slight wink he directed at Tony as he turned his head, obviously aware of the story. Nothing more was said, rather silence stood loud as Maz slowly nodded his head while Tony shook his head. All had grown to a fade with the screen fading to black. Is this truly what you want, Lucy... Urgh, Nyquil...Nyla. Is this the guiding of the light they told you to follow? Why, why would you want this? You pretty little angel you! You don’t want to go through with this only to see more than your hopes and dreams get crushed. That petite little frame of yours getting kicked in severely or yet catching a hell of a high fade of a kick to the side of your cranium. Again, is this really what you want, darling? Traumatized before it even begins for you. Those lovely jitters. I understand Nyla, I truly do. I once dealt with the jitters. I jittered so much I almost busted...the seam in my leather pants. Rookie jitters of a misunderstood man who suffers from dissociative identity disorder. Why do you choose to do this to yourself. You talked it up, huffed and puffed and blew your chest out. Stood like a big girl in big shoes, but this is ultimately the worst time to do so. Slaine says he wants to see how the competitors do before the competition begins and for you, this is what you run into... A dead end. Night one, I will swing with you, do a few dips with you, twirl you around, watch as your body float to the waltz. Our hands will meet, our souls will reach and we will achieve the inevitable. You will aide me over the nine thousand G-level mark as I proceed to evolve onto ultra levels of godliness and proceed to boot you out of existence. You’ll thank me later, sweetie! Because see, breaking hearts is what I do. I’m multi-talented with weapons. Especially sharp objects. I love the smell of fear when my opponent starts sweating. I like weird things. I like Peanut Butter without Jelly. I have a weird obsession with the color red. I enjoy Opera. I’m going to put you in a good place Nyla. I’m going to make sure that after we are done here, you will never, ever, ever step in another ring ever, ever again. Street Fights ... I adore Street Fights. All the pain and built up aggression, I get to unload onto a gentle soul. I hope you pray to God to spare your soul Nyla because I won’t. You want to be apart of this tournament, you better show me your worth, pretty face. You better let me know via actions how much you want to be crowned the next Iron King Winner. But let’s be clearly honest on that, by the time I’m finished, you’ll be asking for an exit rather than continuation. I know, I know you hate being called darling and sweetheart, but I just couldn’t resist. See you soon, darling. Love, Masaru! Edited by Maz, Dec 29 2016, 07:07 PM.
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4:27 PM Jul 10