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| Taryn Terror Vs Lizzie Garden Vs Vittori; "Pretty" Ricky Stanton Vs Seamus Kelly | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Feb 11 2008, 07:24 PM (94 Views) | |
| HcW Management | Feb 11 2008, 07:24 PM Post #1 |
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Curtain Jerker
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RP LIMIT 2 |
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| Vittori | Feb 17 2008, 02:18 AM Post #2 |
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75% chance my post will be shorter than my sig.
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"'Allow me to be frank at the commencement.'" Slowly, as the figure leans forward, a light like that of a dozen sickly yellow candles reaches his face, flickering and pouring over him. What lay behind, however? Still dark. It's a face familiar to only a few. Dark hair, pale eyes, bronze skin covering devilishly handsome sculpted features. Plain white undershirt contrasting the dark and his skin. Nothing else is visible. "'You will not like me. The gentlemen will be envious and the ladies will be repelled. You will not like me now, and you will like me a good deal less as we go on.'" His fingers fold together before him, chest level, a gesture of relaxation as he leans in. It's like a haunting parody of a prayer. His eyes stay on camera though, as they have been since he came into focus. And it's his eyes that enrapture. His face is nearly as plain as if he were reciting something simple and well known and everyday. Simple fact, no boast. But his eyes, somewhere in them, convey so many things. There is a mockery, a coldness. A sort of lust, though any sort of sex coming from it would probably be of rather unconventional tastes. More than anything? The tight restrain on his violence is given away in them, when everything else is at leisure. Done with his nod of respect and perhaps understanding to a rebellious hedonistic 17th century earl-- well, at least for now-- he moves on. "I could run you all down one by one, but that is tired. That is the exact same thing everyone will do, probably in the order we're all listed on the advertised card. So instead, I think I'll wait to see who steps up first. I'm not some foolish old time comic book supervillain who declares his detailed motivations and plans in advance. I shall not make this easy for you. I'm in no way that convenient, and even if I was, you'd need a twenty four hour news program with streaming updates to keep up with what I want. You boys are welcome to attempt to keep up, but I'm likely to tire you. I'm not here just to acquire this belt or beat that guy. I'm not here just for pride or just for competition, or even just for sadism. I want it all, I want different things at different times. "I want you to 'feel how it was for me, how it is for me and ponder-- was that shudder the same shudder he sensed? Did he know something more profound? Or is there some wall of wretchedness that we all batter with our heads at that shining, livelong moment.'" He paused, hands lowering, sitting up a bit straighter. In doing so, he recedes into the dark just a bit, shadows casting just slightly around his eyes and under his cheekbones, remaining traces of light making his features look sharper. The change is simultaneously flattering and brutal. "Same to you women. If there's one thing I've figured out about women, it's that the bad boy fantasy is universal. You think 'he is an asshole, even to me at first, and but after he fucks me he is nice to me and an asshole to everyone else'. It's the allure of confidence. It's multifaceted. It's evolution and survival, about having the strongest and most ruthless protector. It's about devotion, having someone change just to suit you, just to gain your affection and approval, what an ego stroke that is. Put it out of your head. It will end badly for you. And if you try it on me it'll end even worse. I won't change. Don't try. I don't care how captivating you may find me or how seductive you think you are, don't try. It will only end badly for you. And if you're not strong enough to defend yourself, stay far away from me. Ideas like that, Bonnie and Clyde, Sid and Nancy, Mickey and Mallory, they don't even last in the romanticized versions. Someone dies, both die, or as less commonly shown, relationships just can't stand up to that strain. Even if you can tolerate what I am twenty four hours a day, I will wind up exhausting you. And there'll be a price. It'd depend on circumstance, but there always is." He pauses again, head turning to the side for a moment, lips curving very slightly up in a soft smile that's only discernible by comparison to his previous expression. It's as if, for a moment, the fourth wall comes up and he's alone, despite this being a to-camera monologue. "You fans don't worry about it. Don't try to understand the big confusing words. Just be content on watching me tear people apart on a regular basis on your screens, since I know you won't actually heed this warning for what it is. Know I'm not going to be doing it in the fashion most entertaining to you. You won't catch me flipping through the air in some showy fashion. I'll be doing it in the manner most likely to get me what I want." He leans back and looks back directly at the camera. "'That is it. That is my prologue. Nothing in rhyme, no protestations of modesty, you weren't expecting that I hope.' “I am Donovan Vittori, I've come here to take my place, to show you your places. And I do not want you to like me." His figure leans back, screen dissolving to black. |
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6:58 PM Jul 11