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Eyes On Fire - Iron King; Pictures On The Wall - Psalm 3
Topic Started: Dec 31 2016, 03:33 PM (60 Views)
Silver Eagle
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I'll seek you out
Flay you alive
One more word and you won't survive
And I'm not scared
Of your stolen power
I see right through you any hour


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Posted Image

This year has been so, soooo strange. I remember exactly what I was up to this time last year. I was laid out in a hospital bed. Wasn’t the greatest end to the year, to be sure. I’d had an accident in my apartment in San Diego and POOF, up it went in flames. Silly me. But yeah, Christmas and New Year in a hospital wasn’t very nice. It was the end of a year with very mixed results, if I’m honest. I couldn’t build on the momentum that I had coming off of the GFC Invitational, I was runner up in the Class of (R)Evolution tournament, and then I couldn’t build on that, well, because EXODUS Pro went to the poops. So I ventured elsewhere. Everything started looking up with a decent run in the Young Guns Cup, reaching the Quarterfinals before I was fairly defeated by a beautiful woman I would end up making my wife… more on that later, and I would go on to claim my first singles title, the Rising Star championship in SSWA.

Then, things got a little difficult. It was quite public news that my relationship went through a few difficulties, I was the victim of a number of non-wrestling related assaults and the person I was most angry at in the whole entire world turned out to be my Mama. Couple that with one of the worst win\loss records in British wrestling this year, including several defeats to my then arch rival and you could say that my year was going to the pits.

My Uncle always told me that the bad times never last forever, which is kinda strange as he always ensured bad times for his opponents lasted forever, but you know. He sat me down and told me to keep at it, even when there were those that wanted to kick me when I was down, when some called out for me to quit, that I would never make it in the business or in life in general. Saying I didn’t deserve who I was with or what I had accomplished. I take things to heart, I always do and it hurt to hear those things from my peers, my colleagues, rivals… some friends said them too.

But I wasn’t going to give up that easily, tempting as it was. My homelife massively improved, I live in a lovely home now with the best friends you can ever imagine. I married the love of my life, Sophie, and she is the most amazing person I have ever met and everything with us is going from strength to strength. My career has turned around as well. I won the famous Queen of the Mountain tournament in CCP, I won the Rising Phoenix championship tournament here in Phoenix Wrestling by beating the legendary Brad Jackson, I’ve been named the Iron Woman of SSWA and I’m only one name off completing R.getTheKilllist… This little birdie has gone far.

And now, I’m taking another step forward… And I intend on doing something that nobody thinks is impossibubble. To win both the Young Guns Cup AND the Iron King tournament. I have one of, if not the best tournament record out of anyone in wrestling right now. And step by step I’m getting better and better and better. People have a habit of telling me I can’t do things. I’m starting to make a habit of showing them I can.


---
I won't soothe your pain
I won't ease your strain
You'll be waiting in vain
I got nothing for you to gain

---


“Be a good little birdie, Ana, and you can have all the candy you want,” came the voice, disturbing, warped, almost robotic. “You are a good birdie, are you not?”

“Oh yus, Imma the best birdie in the whole wide world and I want all the candy! Please, Mister Clown man! Can I has?” The responding voice was childish, naive, but grating upon the walls like talons to a chalkboard. It echoed out in the darkness, a trickling of water in the background. There was the sound of panting, a struggle, a gasp, a cry. “No, no, no. Mister! Gimme the candy!”

“You will be a good birdie, and you will do as you are told. Or there will be no candy!” The voice was stern, demonic even, bouncing off invisible walls before cutting right through, slicing and dicing.

“Gimme the fucking candy!” There was a crash, a bang, a smash. It was like a million and one rocks hammered upon concrete before hissing into nothingness. “Pound in the swearjar,” came the child’s voice once more. The demonic voice was gone now, only a faint whimper and then even that was gone, as if drowned out by the water that trickled in the background. “My candy,” the sweet voice said once more. There was a pattering of footsteps, a hop, a skip, a jump and then playful laughter.

She awoke.

Anastasia breathed heavily, her head against her lover’s chest as she gripped the fabric of her t-shirt tightly. She peered up slightly with glassy eyes, Sophie looking down at her with a smile. “Are you okay, angel?” Ana nodded, a weak smile following after her darling wife kissed her on the forehead. It was another one of those dreams, they were happening almost nightly now, but this one had cut off before the thin, white stranger with her own eyes paid his regular visit. Sophie El always seemed to be awake once the dream ended, as if she was permanently standing watch over her Songbird. It made her feel safe, warm, loved and she nuzzled back into her nest as she got comfy again. Ana didn’t speak about these dreams to her, they all seemed far too real to even mention, and she didn’t want to worry her new bride. They had enough worries in the past to last them a lifetime, and now it was all about a beautiful new future ahead of them.

“I love you, Ghostie,” Ana whispered.

“I love you too, Birdie.” Sophie responded. It was funny how those few, little words made everything seem right again. They even made her forget these terrible visions she was having, even when they became more real and frequent. It was closing up towards their anniversary, well, the anniversary of when they first met. Like many wrestling cliches, they had first conversed over social media. The 6th of January it was:

“but youse a bird.”

She remembered that tweet like it was only posted to her yesterday. It spawned a million and one conversations. It spawned a beautiful friendship that turned into something much, much more. It turned into a stolen kiss after a competitive battle in the Young Guns Cup, one Sophie won. It almost spawned into disaster, almost falling apart when all seemed right in the world. But they clung on, clung on to their feelings and each other. And here they were. And they were happy. Ana thoughts pranced back to that YGC match, on how Sophie had dominated in almost everyway. Ana did almost sneak it, but Sophie just wanted it, craved for it more. She was the better woman. She was the best woman.

But with the pair in the Iron King tournament… would it come to that again? The thought terrified her. She gazed back to her lover, seeing her now soundly asleep. She smiled, then gazed towards the painting on the wall. Green eyes. Blue eyes. Red eyes.

---
I'm taking it slow
Feeding my flame
Shuffling the cards of your game
And just in time
In the right place
Suddenly I will play my ace

---


I’ve faced the Dragon once before. Kinda, sorta. Well, we were in the same match once and I didn’t really have a great go of things. It was a battle royale, one of many in the business this year, and we were pretty much at opposite sides of the ring the entire time. I rewatched that match recently, it only made sense, and the man\person\robot\whatever is mad manager claims he is was victorious. He pretty much spent the entire match punching Ramsay Bodach in the face until the tail end, and then he claimed the International Championship. The first ever holder. Congratulations were given and everyone went along their merry way.

He is a bit of a strange figure, Dragón Diabólico. He is shockingly strong for someone his size, able to manhandle giants and behemoths like they were flyweights. His endurance is something to be praised as well, I’ve seen him take some monumental hits over his time and still get up for more. But one thing always bothered me about him, besides his manager, Doktor Logan and some of the nonsense that he constantly spews out.

Aren’t dragons supposed to fly?

His speed is more like a slippery serpent, like he crawls on his belly to move or something. He’s not agile or graceful and I don’t think he can even jump. Maybe something like Snake Satan or Slug Satan or lying on Satan Sheets And Not Doing Much Until You Get Close would be a better name for him… Maybe scratch the last one, I’m starting to sound as barmy as his manager. I mean, he came at me recently in some random Twitter spat telling me Dragons fly better than birds. Maybe in mythology and such, but I much prefer realism than storytime.

Point one: Dragons are not real.
Point two: Your dragon can not fly.

I’ll admit, if I get into his grasp, I might well be in a world of trouble. I think anyone in the industry would be in the same boat. He’s going to want to pluck my wings like I’m a pesky bluebottle then swat me away. I think that much is obvious. But for Snail Satan, it’s not going to be that easy for him. I soar higher than anyone else in this game, I’m faster than anyone else in this tournament and if Sloth Satan thinks he’s going to trap me in his slimy net, he’s gonna have to think again.

Point three: Dragons breath fire.
Point four: Seahorse Satan does not breathe fire.

But I’ll tell you that there is a little birdie out there that has become the Rising Phoenix, and she certainly does. And that is one of the lengths that I’m willing to go to in order to achieve victory here. And in that match I faced someone bigger than Starfish Satan. I faced someone stronger than him. I faced someone more powerful than him. He knows who I’m talking about. He knows what lengths I went to. And Manatee Satan should know that I will go to those lengths again to make sure I achieve victory.

You may call yourself a dragon, Tortoise Satan, but that is a name you chose for yourself. People call me a Monster… And I will become that monster if I need to.

With fluffy, white wings on! Yaaaaay!

Ahem…


---
I won't soothe your pain
I won't ease your strain
You'll be waiting in vain
I got nothing for you to gain

---


She stared at her reflection in the belt, a smile as warm as the sun upon her face. The metal seemed to dance with flame and glory as she stroked it with her index finger. What an achievement. What a prize. She kissed it lightly, smearing it with her rose lipstick, causing her to giggle slightly as she wiped it away with the back of her hand. She had given it her all, and she had accomplished everything that she had wanted. It was her goal from the start to acquire this championship, and now it was hers.

The locker room door was open as she sat there, alone. It pained her that her nearest and dearest couldn’t be here with her. Sophie was competing in Hard Knox this very night, as was her dear Mama. Holly and Kenzie were setting things up for Christmas and couldn’t make the trip up. Her in-laws were in Newfoundland, setting things up for the wedding and Jackie and Sabrina were in Miami as Jackie looked towards claiming his first ever World title. It made her feel strange, she had always planned to make this trip to Phoenix Wrestling alone, to achieve things on her own merit. So many in the industry signed contracts in groups, having a full stable of allies from the get go, to relay on, to fall back on. It always seemed to bite people back. ‘You won because of this. You won because of that. You won because of them.’ She didn’t want that here. She wanted to win as herself, by herself. And she had… and now she felt possibly the loneliest she had ever been in her entire life. She wanted to yell out and celebrate with friends, but they weren’t here. She wanted to give her mother the biggest hug she had ever given her, but she was not here. She wanted to embrace her lover, to kiss her tenderly and tell her she was her entire world, but she was not here. No one was. It was just her, and her alone.

“It’s lonely at the top, is it not?” came the voice. Ana peered up at the faceless image in front of her as she froze. Her green and blues locked onto those green and blues as the whole world vanished in an instant. She gasped, cried, but there was no one there. She ran from the room, staring out into the hallway for whatever figure was there, had been there, were they there? Seeing someone with her own heterochromia afflicted eyes knocked her for six, She’d never seen anyone with eyes like hers before, apart from Alessandra and Isaac’s child, and she was never allowed to visit her. And this figure was tall, powerful, pale and faceless. Just eyes, only eyes on their face. But they were gone, as if they were never there at all.

She returned to the locker room and sat down, head in her hands as she began to remember her vivid dreams. “A thin, white duke,” she murmured to herself. She must be going mad.

---
Eyes on fire
Your spine is ablaze
Felling any foe with my gaze
And just in time
In the right place
Steadily emerging with grace

Ahh, felling any foe with my gaze
Ahh, steadily emerging with grace
Ahh, felling any foe with my gaze
Ahh, steadily emerging with grace

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