| Opportunity.; vs Martin Robertson and Grace Goeren, POTW | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jun 25 2016, 01:28 AM (23 Views) | |
| NOTHING | Jun 25 2016, 01:28 AM Post #1 |
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The Purveyor of HATE
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The wind whips through the air as the sun begins to set in the distance. The sky is a raging inferno of red and orange, its gradient flames licking the tops of trees and mountains along the horizon. It's a most serene visual in an otherwise chaotic lifestyle; a lifestyle chosen and glorified by the men and women of the EWA. In this moment, where the sun sets and everything seems to hang in the balance for a brief period of time, there is the ability to truly reflect upon one's decisions. In the forefront of our visual landscape is a familiar building often frequented by the devious, the degenerate, and the disgusting. The bar of William West is in our line of sight with a lone figure pacing back and forth outside of it. His mind races at the opportunities being presented at Path of the Warrior. The opportunity to finally end a seemingly endless blood feud. The opportunity to lay a monster to rest for the entire world to see. The opportunity to capture championship gold and further the message of HATE throughout the EWA. "The Harbinger of HATE" paces thoughtfully back and forth dressed in tailored black slacks with a gray dress shirt unbuttoned to expose his neck and the top of his chest. His hair is carefully coiffed back, his left arm crossed over his midsection while his right hand rubs his chin. His dress shoes emit sparks of noise as they collide with and spin on loose gravel below his feet. He knows that Path of the Warrior is the chance for which The Three Pillars of HATE have been patiently waiting. Their decimation of the EWA officials; their decimation of Ray Willmott; their decimation of the mere feelings of hope and safety in the EWA have all led to this two-night affair. It is a launch pad for their next phase and the severity of the situation weighs heavily. "It's simply about opportunity", the words spill quietly from his half-covered mouth as he continues to pace. "We have assumed control over the futures of not only ourselves but of those who would stand in our way in order to be afforded various opportunities at Path of the Warrior. Grudge matches and chances for championship glory are the beacon calling us forth to Chicago and that shining light in the distance will not go unanswered. That light has been shining brightly since I first stepped foot here in the EWA and it has continued to shine and blink brighter and brighter with each passing moment. Like moths, we are being drawn toward that light in order to complete the first phase of our rebirth. What you have seen already has been a game and we, the players, have been writing the rules each and every step of the way. We have left countless bodies in our wake and pools of blood at our feet simply for the love of the game. We may not always smile and we may not always appear to be filled to the brim with joy, but when we feel the bones of the weak crack under our power... when we feel knees buckle and joints give out because of the pain we have inflicted... well, that's like Christmas morning to us. But, you see, it's all just been a game. It's all been a precursor to everything that is yet to come. At Path of the Warrior, the gloves are coming off. We are no longer playing games, Warriors of the EWA. No, at Path of the Warrior the Second Phase of HATE begins." He stops walking and looks briefly toward the ground before crossing his arms over one another in front of his chest. He tilts his head up and to the side peering at the inferno overhead as the sun gives way to darkness and closes his eyes as the warmth envelops his body and soul. He takes in a deep breath and holds it for just a second, his insides glowing with the same warmth we see in the sky above. He slowly begins to let the breath out and continues to stand with his eyes softly shut. His shoulders loosen and drop back and he rolls his neck from side to side before slowly revealing his icy blue stare. He makes the short walk toward the building and turns to lean back against it. "At Path of the Warrior, I step into the ring with two world-class competitors. I won't attempt to diminish your abilities or your success in this business. The things the two of you can do in the ring... there is no denying that you both have the skills needed to one day become World Champions in this business. Unfortunately, becoming a champion and remaining a champion are both about far more than simply having athletic prowess. You need a mind which operates on a level different from that of any other competitor on the roster. You need to have that hunger within you which drives you harder and harder to lay waste to the Warriors standing across the ring from you. I do not say this lightly, but Martin Robertson... I just don't see that within you. Not anymore, at least. For months you've been a shell of your former self. An obsession has taken hold of you - an obsession with your father, the great Grady Smith. Each and every week it seems like you're more and more shaken with the confusion of having been left behind by your father as he chased his dreams all over this globe. You're attempting to come to terms with a life once desired but never attained in which your father was there to see your growth and your accomplishments as a child. The man who had everything back in his day was also the man who gave up everything for his own selfish gains. To put it directly, Martin, you've lost your focus. Yes, you still have the EWA Network Championship wrapped around your waist and, yes, you are the longest-reigning EWA Network Champion of all time. But what is that truly a product of? Of your own innate abilities? Or of your reliance on the members of The Youth to hold your hand through victory after victory as you scurry away with your precious title clutched firmly at your breast? This is where the pattern begins to become apparent, Martin. Your childhood was spent looking for that hand - the hand of a father who could help you when you were down and who could teach you the lessons which would make you a proud, strong man. That father was never there, and now you've aligned yourself with a group of men who are acting in your father's absence. They reach their hand out to help you when you need it most and sometimes when you don't need it at all. They are teaching you the lessons that they themselves feel you need to learn but none of the lessons which would help you grow into an independent man free of any obligation or debt. They are The Youth and they'll take your freedom away, Martin. You may very well not see that side of things just yet and that's certainly fine. In time, I do hope that your eyes will truly be opened to the heavy hand under which your life is lived. Until then, though, I'll be here to be the hand to take your championship away. While your mind is full of confusion and doubts about your father and who you are as a man, Martin, you've begun to slip. Not in your abilities in the ring, of course, but in the way you size up and approach your opponents. Your head is simply not in it right now, Martin, and that makes you a target. It makes you weak. It makes you the piece of The Youth's puzzle which just doesn't seem to fit. No matter how you try to cram the piece into place, no matter how close its shape appears to fit the one empty space in the puzzle... it's just a little bit off. Well, this is where I come in. This is where my grand undertaking is set off. Your head may no longer be in the right place to continue being the EWA Network Champion, Martin, but it's in the perfect place to meet my kneecap as I drive it into your face. And when I hear the bones cracking and the cartilage tearing..." He closes his eyes as he imagines the impact, the sound reverberating in his ears and the feeling sending a tingle up and down his spine. A half smirk crosses his face as the thought plays back repeatedly in his mind. He shakes his head to clear his mind and opens his eyes wide before letting out an exulted breath. "It never gets old, Martin. When I feel, when I hear those things I know the end is near. For you, it could just be the beginning. Once the burden of being the EWA Network Champion is lifted off of your shoulders, you will be free to examine the disaster that is your personal and family life. I have a little experience in those situations, Martin, so if you ever need that helping hand you've always been looking for... I'm merely a phone call away." He ends his sentence with a smirk and looks off to the side. He pauses for a moment to collect his thoughts before continuing. "And then there's Grace Goeren. Grace, we're not strangers anymore. No, by now we know each other reasonably well in the ring. We beat each other back and forth and yes, you were able to come out on top after delivering Patricide three times over. I still feel your hands on my chest when I take a deep breath in. I'm looking forward to feeling those hands again at Path of the Warrior. When I allowed you to walk past myself and The Hounds of HATE after our battle, Grace, it was a show of respect. A sign to let you know that you had earned my admiration. I had assumed that what had occurred that night was an awakening for you, Grace. A moment where you had learned something about me so that you would be better armed in our future battles. Unfortunately, that was most certainly not the case. As I see you move your mouth and I hear the words haphazardly tumbling out and into the air, I feel a sense of regret. Regret for the things I am going to have to do to you in order to truly show you who I am and what I believe in. You continue to want to conjure up these false narratives of who I am and what HATE stands for. You throw around loosely plotted-out insults time and time again without taking the time to truly understand who it is you are up against. Our first battle, Grace, was a sacrifice. My sacrifice to you in order to show you that there is compassion and humanity beating within my heart and flowing through my veins. To prove to you that the caricature you parade around is a flimsy approximation at best and a flat-out lazy attempt at an attack at worst. At Path of the Warrior, Grace, another sacrifice will be presented to all who wish to partake. Only this time, I show no mercy. I show no humanity. I show no compassion. This time, whether you reconcile your issues with the cesspool that is Duane Gates or not, I will straight up spoil the upward rise of Grace Goeren. Despite your inability to grow mentally, I know that you are still as strong as ever physically. So I want to feel those hands across my chest again, Grace. I want to be close enough to taste the sweat dripping off of your body as you crack and bend toward the ground. I want to feel the fear and uncertainty in you as my arms wrap around your body and we move from pillar to post in that ring. I want all of you, Grace. I want every last bit and every last drop so when the bell is rung and I stand with my hand raised overhead, I can know without any uncertainty that you have been drained of every ounce of fight that you brought with you. And as I look down at your prone, shattered body on the mat I will breathe in deeply feeling the presence of your hands pressed against my chest. I'll keep with me the smell of your sweat when you were at your strongest so I can always remember how formidable Grace Goeren was when she was believed to have been indestructible. That will give me a tingle up and down my spine much different than the one I'll experience when I cave in Martin Robertson's face." He peers toward the ground again, the sky now becoming darker seemingly by the second. He begins to walk once more, this time slower and more methodical in his pace. Arms still crossed over his chest and his eyes still pointed to the ground, "The Purveyor" speaks slowly. "It's simply about opportunity. At Path of the Warrior, HATE has the opportunity to seize control in so many ways. We will crush the men who have acted as thorns in our sides for far too long. We will make rotten the golden boy of The Youth as I rip away his beloved championship. We will take revenge on those who have sullied our names with their uninformed and careless diatribes." He comes to the back door of the building and places his hand on the door knob. He turns it but does not yet open the door. Every moment that has led up to Path of the Warrior flickers through his mind as the darkness begins to overtake the light overhead. "We will grow. And we will damage. And we will stake our claim at the top of the mountain that is the EWA. We warned you all when we first stood together that our ascension would not be personal, but rather a necessary means to an end. At Path of the Warrior, we put our burning torches to the homes of the strongest and most dominant entities in the EWA. And as the walls come crumbling down around you, all that remains will be a new foundation on which to build. All that will remain and all that will stand tall into the night... will be The Three Pillars of HATE." He sharply opens the door and stands motionless for a moment allowing everything to sink in one last time. He steps through the door and closes it shut hard behind him. The sky has turned from a hopeful gold to a disparate shade of blue. The promise of a brighter tomorrow has evaporated from the sky above the EWA. All that is left now is HATE. |
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10:51 AM Jul 11