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| Fury vs. Finnegan Piper | |
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| Topic Started: Jul 10 2014, 11:55 PM (74 Views) | |
| Mr. D | Jul 10 2014, 11:55 PM Post #1 |
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Fury vs. Finnegan Piper 3 RP Limit Deadline: 5 p.m. EST Friday, July 25, 2014 |
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| Harris | Jul 24 2014, 06:55 PM Post #2 |
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New York – 2012 Elder March stood staring at the diner from the rooftop of a building only a short distance away, he watched Yasou speak to Lykin, already knowing how it would end, but not caring regardless. Elder Yasou was a man with a short temper and that temper made him an idiot, he had no ambition, no drive, no determination to be anything more than what he was and without that drive to be more... He was already at a disadvantage. For years now, the Shadows had been in disarray, left wondering the civilised world without a direction or a mission statement, they were left aimlessly looking for acceptance, or dying because they couldn’t find it. Elder Yasou had his chance, his moment to step up and be what many of these lost souls on earth needed him to be, he had his chance to step up and be the leader of a new world order, a new charge of which the world would listen and obey. He didn’t take it. Before the breakup of the Shadows and the Civil War of their people, Elder March had been promoted from the lowly ranks of Junior Shadow to High Elder, it had never been done before and it shocked a lot of people, made many feel uncomfortable, how could it be that a nobody becomes one of the most important people in our society? The answer was simple. March heard the voices of God, the ear of the Lord heard the voice of Elder March, he had a talent, an acquired skill that came to very few, that very few understood well enough to develop, or even make mention of, for most, they just thought they were going mad, they thought they were going insane. But not March, he knew what it was, he was prepared for it and he wanted it to become stronger. Elder Farr anointed him into the ranks of High Elders and helped him focus his mind, helped him move aside the distractions and the interference from his mind so that when the Lord spoke, he spoke clearly and he spoke loudly, his voice was loud, deep and demanding, through Farr and through March, the Shadows had a direct link to the heavens above and the orders that came to them from the very highest power. But some didn’t believe, one in particular questioned the Lord too much, he lacked faith, he lacked devotion and he lacked appreciation for what the Shadows were doing for the world. Lethal Weapon bought about a war that saw the death of March’s mentor and many others who fought for the cause that they had come to know and love for hundreds and hundreds of years and then disbanded them... Financial markets crashed, the world changed, without the Shadows, it became Chaos, governments no longer knew where to turn or what to do, they no longer had guidance from the all seeing eye of the Lord and the world might as well have stopped spinning. ... Until March did what Yasou should have done... ... March, like many others was left stranded by what had happened, he was left alone and uncertain of which direction to go. God had stopped speaking to him, he had stopped sending his messages and for a while, like Yasou, March believed that the death of Elder Farr was Gods way of saying they were wrong and Weapon was right, that the Rebellion fought for the greater cause. Every night he prayed, begging for another message, another voice, begging to understand what he had done wrong and why the messages and the meanings he had taken from God had been misinterpreted, why the Rebellion were gods choice and not him and for a long time he didn’t hear a thing, just silence. ... March had considered killing himself, it had crossed his mind more than once. How could you go from talking to god, to living a normal life and not consider suicide? The real world was a disappointment everyday to him, it was a reminder of what he was left with, now he had lost everything meaningful to his life. If he wasn’t so cowardly, he’d have done it as well, death would have been his easy escape. But as much as he refused to admit it, he was a coward, he wasn’t the most gifted fighter and physicality was not his strong point, so the idea of shooting himself, or cutting his own wrists sounded far too painful for him to go through with. Instead, he refrained and coped with the dull delights of ‘every day’ in the normal world. ...March never really took to civilian society the way some others had, certainly the likes of Lethal Weapon seemed to thrive in it, but March wasn’t like him, he was an intellect, he was a speaker of the Lord, he was much more than a common brute like Weapon or many of his counterparts and even the idea of going to ‘church’ didn’t amuse him. Most of the priests knew very little about what they were ‘actually’ talking about and instead, took from a book what they thought god meant, yet, March knew much better than they did, he actually DID know what God meant and it was pretty distant from what most know as the common religions. Our ancient ancestors were much closer to the mark! For a long time, he heard no voices and March had considered his power, his gift gone, until one night, a whisper spoke to him... Somewhere in Michigan - 2008 “The time is now...” March awoke from his slumber inside a cheap hotel room, next door, the sounds of two people having passionate intercourse could be heard but he doubted it was within wedlock, not in a place like this. It probably came about via prostitution or something worse, an affair of sorts. He rubbed his eyes, ignoring the noise and just rolled his legs out of the bed before looking around the dark room, all around him black with night except for the doorway which shone red around the edges from the bright neon hotel light outside his entrance. “Hello?” March spoke to the darkness, not expecting an answer, but nonetheless feeling like he needed his voice to be heard. Gently, he placed his hand down the side of the bed and grabbed a baseball bat, his hands were shaking at the thought of confrontation, but nonetheless, he prepared himself. Slowly and steadily, he stood up of the mattris which squeaked as it tried to form back into its original shape and failed miserably, thus the problem with cheap materials. March was aware he heard something, something that woke him, but he didn’t know what it was and the light switch was across the room by the doorway. His eyes fixed on the bathroom door ahead of him, it was the only area he couldn’t see, whatever woke him, it must be in there. “Hello, is anyone there?” Said March again, his eyes glaring directly at the bathroom door as he moved beside the light switch. He flicked it on and the light emblazoned the room with a brightness that hurt his eyes at first and painfully he winced, when he opened them, nobody was present, his room was empty, all except for the bathroom, the door closed and the light off. “If you are here to steal from me, I have nothing... I suggest you leave” he said, the baseball bat lifted up to the side of his head as if he was ready to swing for a home run. He walked slowly toward the door and then stood outside it and waited for a second. What if, on the opposite side of that door stood a Shadow, stood one of the Rebellion’s member who hadn’t accepted the war was over until every Elder and every Follower of the Elders was dead and buried? What if a Shadow waited for him? He was without a doubt dead, he was gone from this world and he knew it. He may have been a junior shadow once upon a time, but he was plucked from that role and given the chance to do something more grand, more holy, more important and less violent, he was the speaker of the Lord, a High Elder, he didn’t fight. “Is anyone there?” He said, his hands quivering nervously now as he waited, unsure as to whether to open the door or leave it closed. There was no answer. If this was his time to die, March knew he would at least have to die a man, not a mouse, he might not be a fighter, he might not be violent, but he was from the Shadow society and it wasn’t an option to die a coward, you were there to do Gods will and God wanted men of strength, not men crippled by fear. With a deep breath, he raised the bat once more, sweat covered his brow and his heart rate escalated quickly, finally with a rush of adrenalin, he lunged forward and kicked the door open, so hard it nearly flew of its hinges, he roared forward, the bat held high, but quickly he stopped, his eyes scanning the room to find it was empty. Confusion clouded his mind for a moment as he was sure he heard something, he was sure something in the real world woke him up, he was certain it wasn’t merely a dream. He looked around and found no sign of anyone ever being in there with him. Finally, his confusion was replaced with relief and he sighed heavily and leaned back against the wall. Whatever it was, it wasn’t a shadow coming to kill him and, well, that was always a good thing. He lowered the bat and just quietly giggled at himself, he then glared forward into the mirror and saw his sweaty face, though relieved, he was also ashamed, he should be stronger than this, better than this, he shouldn’t be so afraid – but he was and he didn’t know how to stop it. With another sigh he stood upright and walked out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom at which point, his heart stopped with fear and panic. “It takes a brave man to run into the unknown” Came the voice of a young man with a strange gaze, his eyes golden and wide, almost inhuman. March stood deadly still, a loud gulp of saliva flowing through his throat into his belly. “Who are you?” He managed to say, his voice not quivering as he locked gazes with the boy. “Who do you think I am?” He responded calmly, like March, he didn’t move, but he was clearly much less worried about the threat of the man across from him. March glared at the door, it had no signs of being tampered with and the window remained closed, he knew what the boy before him was and he knew where and how he had been trained. “You are a Shadow” He said, keeping his sentences short. The boy smiled and gently nodded in approval of his answer. “I am and you, are High Elder March” He said with confidence. “What do you want of me?” Said March, his eyes narrowing with suspicion, he was surprised to still be alive, a Shadow wouldn’t normally converse for this long. “Want of you?” The young man stared around the room for a moment raising his nose in distaste before glaring back at March, “I want nothing from you except to put you back where you belong, amongst the height of our people, as a High Elder of the order of Shadows.” Slowly to the surprise of March, the young boy gently dropped to one knee, his hand outstretched toward him, he glared at the boy for a moment, not sure if this was a trick, some way to mock him and his downfall. His growing distrust in the people around him and his paranoia that any day now he’d be taken out and killed left him unable to greet the young boy at first, however, eventually, timidly, he took his hand and stood him back up. “What is your name?” He asked the boy again as the two of them stared into one another eyes. “I am Lyken” March nodded in approval for a moment, his mind distracted by the glowing gold eyes of the young man before him. “And how do you expect to make me a High Elder once more Lyken... The Shadows are dead?” He asked curiously as the young man just smiled and turned to the door. He opened it to and then looked back at March. “Get dressed... I will show you” With a prideful smile, he turned and left the room as March looked on, his mind spinning at 100 miles per hour, his thoughts exploding with lots of different scenarios. Were the Shadows back? Did Elder Farr somehow survive? Was Lethal Weapon dead? How could this have happened? Who would let the Shadows reform successfully? The Rebellion must surely have heard, the Civil war would be happening all over again!?! March gulped heavily, he knew what he wanted and he knew the rise of the Shadows and the power he once had would be to intoxicating to turn down, but could it really have happened? ...He was about to find out... New York – 2012 2008, Michigan, that was when this all started, that was when this war really begun, that is when everything changed and March became the most powerful man in the world, that is when the voice of God, the voice of the Lord Almighty spoke to him once more. “Yasou turned us down” Said Lyken as he stepped beside March who continued to glare down at the Cafe as screams echoed down the street, people ran in different direction and in the distance multiple Police cars could be heard screaming toward the scene. “So I gather” Said March, his gaze not flickering for a moment. “Do you disapprove of my killing him?” Said Lyken, confusion in his expression for a moment, with a faint smile March turned to him. “Not at all, God has made his will clear, if they do not follow our path, they must pay the ultimate price. Tony Yasou paid such a price for his lack of ambition and drive. He could have been much more, but he chose to be a lesser man than he was destined to be. We don’t need mentalities such as that in our order” Gently March placed his hand on the shoulder of Lyken in a supportive matter and turned his back to the Cafe, slowly walking for the stairs that led back down into the building. “What is next?” Asked Lyken, turning and following the High Elders footsteps “Next... We rock the apple cart... Find me ‘Merciless’” Lyken stopped for a moment as March reached the doorway to the stairs that led down into the building, The High Elder noticed this and turned to face him. “Is that a problem?” “Isn’t Merciless the friend of Lethal Weapon?” March squinted for a moment, Lyken had never questioned him before. “He is” Replied March abruptly. “Is it wise to let Weapon know of our resurrection at this stage?” Asked Lyken “Is it wise? Lyken, for a moment, I was concerned you might be afraid of Lethal Weapon, you’re not are you?” Said March stepping back toward the Golden eyed young man. “No, it is not fear. I am just concerned that his influence might align those who have yet to make a decision about our cause” Said Lyken coldly, his eyes not straying from High Elder March’s. “Ok, then who?” Said March, willing to listen “Basoi” Said Lyken clearly causing March to stop and consider the name, he had heard it, but it didn’t come to him straight away who it was. “Wait, the monster Basoi?” He was called the Monster because he was 7 feet tall and around the same wide, made of muscle and with a temper that made the Incredible Hulk look tame. Fury nodded. “Fine... But take back up” Said March turning back to the doorway. “I-” Before Fury could even speak, March turned back to him and cut him off. “Don’t test me. You questioned me once and I’ve listened, now do as I ask” Said March aggressively, anger appearing in his voice. Lyken glared at him for a moment and then nodded in submission as March just turned and walked into the building. Lyken watched him leave, but he knew Basoi well and he knew that if he arrived with backup to meet Basoi, it would be like declaring war on a man the size of a nation. It wasn’t going to start the way he had planned, Lyken just hoped he could end it by getting the big man on there side, after all, he’d much rather be with him, than against him. Next target, the Monster Basoi. San Francisco - 2006 I sat quietly in the porch outside of the lovely young ladies house, I was angry, not at her when I really dug down deep and thought about it, more at myself. I was useless with being social, with knowing what to say and when to say it. They never taught you how to be a people person when you were amongst the Shadows. You meet the man you are going to kill, you kill the man you are going to kill and that’s the end of it. She asked me questions, normal questions and I snapped back at her with answers and even now, didn’t have the pride to go back in there and apologise to her. I glared up at the clear sky above, at the stars and for a moment thought about all of my comrades now gone, either in battle or from taking their own lives. What a waste. “You want some company?” I turned to see the blonde girl who’d kindly bought me to her home and tried to talk to me and with a faint smile, nodded silently, she walked across me and past the table next to me onto the seat next along, she had two drinks in her hand, she placed one by me and the other next to her. “What’s this?” I asked for a moment, suspicion in my mind, although I had managed to say it kindly. “Lemonade, made it myself” She said with a grin and a chest full of pride. “Just now?” I asked awkwardly causing her to laugh. “No, last week! Of course just now!!” I smiled wide, strangely, I understood sarcasm. I don’t know if it’s because of the dark world I come from or something else, but that kind of humour makes sense to me. “Thanks” I said, moving my mouth to the straw sticking out of my cup and sipping back on a small amount of the refreshment. It was genuinely delicious. “Look, I’m sorry” “You don’t have to be” She cut me off, her eyes glaring into mine. “You’re a loner, I get it, you don’t want to talk about your past, fine, I won’t ask you no more about it” “I guess I am a loner. Thank you, I’d very much like it if we left history where it belongs” She smiled and nodded acknowledgement at that before smiling a huge smile and lifting her Lemonade in the air. “Cheers to that” With a similar sized grin, I did the same and she clanged her glass against mine. As we both drank back some of our delightful refreshment, silence reigned over us, I couldn’t help but look across at her in the corner of my eye, surprised to find that she was glaring right back at me. She was a beautiful woman, blonde, blue/green eyes, curvy in all the right places and a personality that had me melting to know more about her, yet, my social inability meant, I didn’t know what to ask or how to ask – She was simply a mystery to me. “So where are you staying?” She asked me as she placed her drink down. “Tonight?” I replied causing her to shrug and stare out into the distance. “Tonight, tomorrow, any night?” “I’m not really sure. I make the most of the nice weather I guess” I smiled and sat back in my chair, the drink not leaving my hand, I was enjoying it far too much to let it go. “You could always stay here?” At that moment, I almost spat my mouthful right out and right across her porch, I gulped it quickly and almost choked as I did, only to turn and look at her. “I couldn’t-” “It wouldn’t be any trouble” She quickly interrupted what I was saying. “Where would I sleep? I really don-” “It will be fine. I have a spare room and if you don’t like it, just sleep on the couch. Besides, what if my Ex comes back? You’re here now, but what about tomorrow and the day after?” She said, bringing that old nugget back up and making me care for her once again, a care that distracted my need for distance from society. “I really don’t know” I said, trying to talk myself out of it when quite honestly, I quite liked the idea of a regular home, a roof over my head and a comfortable bed to sleep in. “Come on, what could be so bad?” I sighed at the question, my pessimistic mind suddenly throwing all sorts of scenarios at me, none of which I felt ready to share with her. “I don’t even know your name” I said suddenly. “That’s easy... I’m Lauren” And that was that excuse out the window, now I knew her name! “What’s yours?” “I’m...” That was an awkward question. How do you explain to someone that you got named by a High Elder who had a thing for the amateur dramatics, ‘oh my names Fury, you know, like that emotion when you get really angry’! Most would twig that something wasn’t right. “I’m... Darren” I have no idea why the name Darren came into my head, I had never met a Darren, I had never killed a Darren, I had never come across a Darren, but for some odd, peculiar reason, that is what I decided to name myself. “Well Hi Darren... So how about it, stay, please?” I sighed again and looked at the ground before looking up at Lauren, her blue eyes were big as ever and given me a sad look that made it impossible to say anything but what she wanted you to say. “Fine... But just for now” A huge smile exploded across her face and she leaped up from her chair and wrapped her arms around my neck. I smelt her sweet fragrance, her hair touching my face, she was delightful, amazing, beautiful, she made me feel things and think things I’d never thought before. She was truly one of a kind. ... And now she was my Landlord. Promo – Present Day It should be easy to know what to say to the man I have watched as the weeks have past, the man I have watched as the opponents have come and gone for us both, all of them falling to the ground unable to cope, unable to get the job done. It should be easy for me to bring up the name Finnegan Piper and tell the world what I know and how I am going to use said knowledge to defeat him, but the truth is... I’m not much of a talker and for that reason, speaking ‘trash’ about Finnegan Piper isn’t exactly the most natural thing for me to do. What I will say is clear for the world to see, Finnegan Piper is a machine, much like myself, he walks to the ring, he does what he needs to do and he leaves the ring. He doesn’t feel the need to over dramatise his victories, instead, he does what is required to be done and he does it effectively. I can relate to that, I can admire that, so much so, I stood amongst the fans a few weeks back and I watched it first-hand. Finnegan, we have since spent the time studying one another, watching one another, seeing what we have to bring to the table and deep down, I know you are looking at me with some caution, the same way I look at you, why wouldn’t you? Like you, I have stepped into the SCW, a federation known for being the very best in competition and I have beaten all comers, I have beaten former champions, I have beaten oriental superstars and I have taken down the general enhancements and all of those matches, all of those victories, like any good story, bring me to my first real hurdle, my first real challenge... You. Finnegan, you are a landmark in my career and in years to come they are going to look back at Rise to Greatness, they are going to look at the supercard at the biggest show of them all, the biggest show on the SCW Calendar and they are going to talk about Shaun Cruze defending his World Championship, they are going to talk about Silas Mason and his faction, they are going to talk about all the predictable talents, the ones that are expected to turn up and steal the show, but what will surprise the world, what will surprise the fans, what will surprise management and everyone back in that locker room, is that amongst those massive SCW ego’s, those big reputations, they are also going to be speaking the name of Fury. No doubt your name will come up as well Finnegan, but it’s my job to ensure that the name they mention most, is mine and the way to do that above all others is to come out at Rise to Greatness with no fear, no distractions, just a lot of confidence, a lot of focus and a lot of determination and make sure, whatever it takes, you are beaten in the middle of that ring for the world to see and my hand is raised as the victor, my streak ongoing and my biggest challenge yet, no more. Finnegan, I almost chose you myself, SCW saw my interest in your talent, in the way you are, the way you handle yourself, the way you make sure you get the job done, very similar to me and they saw money, they saw opportunity, they saw something special that could help raise the undercard of Rise to Greatness and why wouldn’t it? We are beating all comers for good reason and we are doing it because we are a step above the rest, a step up in talent, but in just over a day, one of us is going to have a blemish on their record. Finnegan, I don’t intend for that blemish to be mine, I have no intention of tapping out or being dropped for the 1,2,3 and when the dust is settled and all is said and done, my intention is a pretty simple, predictable one, I intend to have you beaten. I don’t care how it’s done either, I like to make people tap, I enjoy seeing someone submit while I pull their body apart, but with you, I know having that kind of control and deciding which way I will beat you isn’t really going to be an option, I need to take my opportunities, I need to take my chances and if you make a mistake, when you make a mistake, I need to be ready to make you pay for it... And pay for it you will Finnegan. I do wonder, with me being the first to speak, how will you cope with this? How will you approach this match? Are you going to be gung ho, talking me down and undervaluing what I could do to you> Underestimating me maybe? Or will you take the high road as I have done to a degree, will you register who I am and what I am likely to accomplish in this federation? It’ll be interesting nonetheless, because on paper, this should be a respectful, pure contest about being the best wrestler in the middle of that ring, it should be about being the best man, not about who has the biggest dick, after all, if we wanted to boast and talk through our Ego’s, that would do the opposite from setting us aside from the cliché, from the majority of wrestlers in our business, doing what we do. Would it not? Wouldn’t we be just like all the others if we spent our time cussing one another down and under selling what should be, what could be, a show stealing match before the official event has even begun? I think it would and I think deep down, you know it would as well, so when you speak Finnegan, when your lips are finally prized open and you let the world know what is on your mind, I will be listening intently, I will be listening with interest and I will be taking note of everything you decide to throw in my direction, but please keep in mind my words to you right now... I don’t underestimate you, I don’t undervalue you and I don’t want to undersell the show stealing match of the night, the match the world will talk about that they never thought they would... Finnegan Piper, you are my biggest challenge to date, you are my biggest obstacle and when all is said and done and I have surpassed you, you will be my catalyst to something greater, something more. At Rise to Greatness, I will do just as the name has stated, I will step up to a new gear, I will rise to a new level and I will make you the martyr for all the victims that will come in your stead, I will make you the symbolic point in my SCW career, when I moved from being a ‘prospect’, to a ‘future champion’. Finnegan Piper, after weeks of watching you, after weeks of you watching me, at Rise to Greatness, you WILL fall to my hand, one way or another and I will whisper in your ear as you wonder what on earth just happened to you... ...Welcome to my world...” |
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| Scythe | Jul 25 2014, 10:50 AM Post #3 |
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OOC: I think I had a really good idea with this one to further develop Piper's character. I am very happy with this direction so I hope you all enjoy it. Best of luck Harris. Always a pleasure. It's been a long time my friend. [align=center] ![]() The Legend of Piper Season 1: Episode 4: Rise to Pre-Greatness So… another one bites the dust, and then another rushes to take his place, eager and willing to do and say what they all say. ‘I am ‘so and so’, and I am going to make a name for myself out of your hide’. And this one is no different. Only this time, this one goes by the name of Fury. And let me get the basics out of the way here before this goes any further. I am Finnegan Piper… and I am BETTER than this man called Fury. There, I said it first. Usually I wait until I am nearly done before getting to my particular catchphrase. I know I said I don’t like most catchphrases and that was true, but this one I am ok with. It’s simple and to the point. I am better. As I’ve said for, this comes from no sense of EGO or ARROGANCE as Fury was concerned would happen. It is merely a statement of fact, no different than a weather forecaster doing his job. I am better than Fury. I know that because of what I have seen. And while I can cite my technical prowess and athleticism alone as I have done in the past, I don’t think that would coincide with Mr. Fury’s request of me. So instead of dissecting his in-ring performance, let’s see how Mr. Fury is NOT my better mentally. Is that alright with you, Mr. Fury? Yes, I can see how the name fits, because with what you said, it is very clear to me one single solitary fact. You are indeed, mad. You are out of your mind, deluded with the false sense of important. Amazing that after spending weeks watching me, you have seemed to learn absolutely nothing from my example. I am so much more than just about the work… get in, get out… that’s just the starting point. Have you any idea WHY I do what I do? Have you any idea what makes Finnegan Piper tick? Judging from what you have said, clearly not… The same cannot be said of the man called Fury. No… unlike you, I spent the time watching you, listening to what you had to say, and believe me, I know very well what makes you tick. And I cannot say I am not disappointed. Glory. That is what you strive for. That is all you know and crave. You measure your existence here according to it. Rise to Greatness you speak of as if you have a chance of being a part of it. I guess you are not alone, because almost everyone talks about this thing like it’s the second coming. Not me. Rise to Greatness means nothing to me. Yes, I said it. In fact, I will say it again. Rise to Greatness… means nothing to me. Why should it? What makes it any different from any other night? Is my match any more special because of this night? Way I see it, my match with you, Fury, is no different than the last three matches I have had. In no way shape or form are they any different. So why should the night be any different? Because the fat cats raking in the chips say ‘Oh this is a special night!’, and it’s the most important of the year. Well fuck them and fuck you for trying to make something out of nothing. That’s not how it works. You wanna know the most important night of the year? I’ll tell you when that is. It’ll be the night when the world stands in silence as I am crowned the SCW World Heavyweight Champion. THAT WILL BE THE MOST IMPORTANT NIGHT OF MY LIFE… not on some pre-show against someone like you. And this is not Ego, Mr. Fury. This is not ignorance. This is what I have always spoken in… the truth. And the truth is, no matter how much you may wish to try and hope. No matter how much you can try and dominate our match… NO ONE is going to be speaking your name at Rise to Greatness. Not… a… one. It’s ok, they won’t be speaking my name either. Because what is going to happen at Rise to Greatness is so far from anything you and I are set to be involved with that we are not worth mentioning. According to the eyes and ears on the SCW Pulse… you and I are not important enough to be mentioned in SCW’s ‘biggest event’. If we were, our match wouldn’t be on the pre-show with a bunch of scrubs. Would it, Mr. Fury? We… You wouldn’t be shoved in the opening act if you were actually respected by them. If THEY knew what you were capable of… and they should. They signed you, didn’t they? And this is how they wish to challenge your talents? Putting you as far away from the main even as possible? Is that fair to you? Is THAT what you deserve? I mean, it means little to me. A battle is a battle… but YOU… you want to make a name for yourself. You want to show the world that the undercard is no place for you. That makes you mad, doesn’t it? Being here and not there when you KNOW in your heart that you can beat those four battling it out for the World Title. Yes, I can hear it in your voice. That’s all that matters to you. Getting you to where you belong. Isn’t that right, Mr. Fury? Now, naturally, you can hear the tone in MY voice, Fury. Because once again, I say the most obvious truth of all. A BATTLE IS A BATTLE! And there are no such things that can exist in your ‘world’ as you call it when the battle is on. I prepare to fight you, and I don’t look ahead to the SCW World title then. I don’t think about my record, because who the fuck cares? I’ve been beating back chumps left right and centre. You think that matters to me? No losses? Yeah, but who the fuck have I beaten? Nobody important. The same goes with you. We have NOTHING to be proud of. Does the father rejoice when he beats his infant son in a game? No… because it is expected. It is nature. It is MEANT to happen. And what is it I have said every match, week in and week out. And the same applies here, Fury. I yearn to battle again. I don’t care who it’s against. The outcome… well I’m not dumb enough to think it’s always going to be the same, but against you, it damn well looks to be. Because as you were watching me, so was I watching you. And when you fight, your mind does not stay on the battle at hand. It wanders to the next step and the step after that… after all, in our match alone, you have already admitted to being focused on several things beyond me. 1. Making a name for yourself. 2. Maintaining your ‘perfect’ record. 3. Rising to Greatness in the eyes of the people. 4. Creating a show stealing match. We are both men of action… these goals are not becoming of us. Maybe that’s where we are different. I don’t care about any of that. My name is my name. If people wish to utter it, so be it. If people wish to exalt it, so much the better. If people wish to cuss it, insult it, doubt it, hate it, love it, etc… they can go ahead. I do not care. Because that is the difference between me… and you. You are a wrestler in the year 2014. I… am a gladiator. The day my match is a showstealer is the day my opponent is a man whom can be pushed to his limit, and then continues on only to push me as far. When there is nothing pretty going on in that ring but savage brutality of aggression that makes the people cringe. I don’t have to do ANYTHING different for that match to happen. It will happen on its own time… Not during the Rise to Greatness Pre Show. Because, Mr. Fury, you are NOT that opponent. Not a man who is capable of pushing me to my limit. That much is clear. You are a wrestler… not a Spartan. Not a Gladiator. No. You are a wrestler. You fight for glory, not for the beauty of battle. You fight for yourself, but not in the same way I do. You fight so that you can climb higher up the ladder, making the bigger pay checks and holding those titles. More titles to you means more glory. Get the job done? Your job is to make a name for yourself. My job is to fight. Not win… fight. There is a difference. But you wouldn’t begin to understand that. So you come to our match with all these unreal (and at times imaginary) expectations of what you THINK this match is and what you THINK will happen. Then when nothing goes according to your plan, and it’s not what you think it is, you can deal with it on your own. Because when the announcers won’t even acknowledge your existence at Rise to Greatness, you will know precisely what I mean. Because you are nothing to them. And you are nothing to these people. So instead of fighting for all those possibilities… How about you fight for the sheer joy of the battle itself? Because THAT is where Finnegan Piper lies. That is where you will find me at our match. Unlike you, I do not intend to Rise to Greatness tonight. When the battle is on, I am already there. ***** Last Breakdown: Week of July 17th. Hmm… he’s good. The thought kept repeating itself in Julian Armand’s mind as the rain fell down around him. He stood right outside the arena, waiting for the taxi to arrive. He barely felt the water that splashed around him. He was too busy replaying that last match in his head, taking mental notes on the man he had just seen wipe the floor with Toshiro Kageyoshi. Toshiro never had a chance in that match. His only offenses just slowed down Fury. Fury was never in any real danger… I wonder if that’s the same in all his matches. Resolving to look into it later, Armand went back to what he saw. That triple powerbomb that Fury called ‘Alpha’. Or something like that. On its own, it was a move that would not do much damage to someone so used to being banged up like Armand. His parkour training in the past made it so that even three powerbombs would not equal some of the crashes he had walked away from. No… Fury’s prowess with submissions was going to be the real problem. As fast as I am… I don’t do well with submissions. It was true. And Fury had at least two mastered to his name, making his a far greater mat technician than his future opponent. And while he would never let it show, that scared the crap out of the man named Finnegan Armand. The Rage of the Machine… that Crossface… and the Omega. Two submissions. He locks one of those in and I’m fucked. The taxi’s lights shone in the darkness, drawing his attention. As it pulled up alongside him, a flicker of movement to Armand’s left, brought him spinning around with a heel kick, clipping the giant fuzzy thing hanging near him. Only then did he realize that it was a microphone, covered in a bag to protect it from the rain. The small camera crew looked terrified at the speed of which Armand had just unleashed that kick. Shyguy: I’m sorry, Mr. Piper. Didn’t mean to sneak up on ya. Armand: Sure ya didn’t. Shyguy: We were just curious if we could take a second before you go to discuss your upcoming match with Fury. Armand: Out here? In the rain? Shyguy: Well, yeah… Armand: You wanna know what I think? The idea came to him immediately. Armand: Come with me. Pile into the back and come with me. He opened the door and the three man crew did as they were told. Armand got into the front seat, and gave directions to the driver. Armand: Royal Connaught, Appleby Way. The driver took off, already charting a path in his mind. Now, a bit of a history about this taxi driver. His name was James Toppler. He had worked as a Taxi driver for the better part of ten years and hated every moment of it. His wife had long ago stopped being pretty, and his kids were brats. There were certain parts of his life that he hated. When it came to his job, he always took the longest way possible to rack up the price of his clients. A lot of times, he would get into arguments with them over the cost. Such was the existence of this man. He didn’t know who Armand was. Didn’t care. Didn’t bother to ask about the camera crew either. Seemed to be no point. They weren’t going to help him any. So this trip took an extra 11 minutes. All the while, Armand kept quiet and since the cameras weren’t rolling, the Shyguy didn’t ask any questions. He was pretty sure he knew where Armand was taking them. All the while, Armand’s mind thought about two things… That crossface… and the Omega… Now with the Crossface, the weight is placed more on my left, so if I push off on my right… I would separate my shoulder. If I can push him off. No. Ok, the Omega, my core is stronger than his arms. If I get a good grip, I can yank him off, unless he puts his knee into my back. But to do the move, he has to flip me over, so if I can grab his ankles, and hang on, he can’t turn over and the submission is neutralized. Unless I’m on my stomach and he just grabs the legs from there… There’s no universal way out of either those holds. Actually, there was. In the case of the crossface, one simply had to focus, go limp, and then reach around to the applier’s neck. This would force a compromised integrity to the hold and allow someone to slip out. In the case of a liontamer, one had to simply sit up if the applier used his knee. Sit up and have free access to the head. It wasn’t often able to be done because people lacked the core strength. But with Armand, if he had only figured that out, he would have had easy access to several counters to Fury’s two submission finishers. But he was not technically savvy in the ring. His own limitations prevented him from figuring it out, so he resolved to do what he normally did. Not think too much about it until he was in the gym. Which is what brought him back to the Royal with the camera guys in tow. He paid what seemed to him an obscene amount and walked into the main lobby, showing his card, and heading to the elevator. It wasn’t until after he hit the button that he turned back to the crew. Armand: You want to get my thoughts on my match? Shyguy: We’d like to get anything, honestly. You told us that wrestling is your life and - - Armand held his hand up. Armand: First things first. I never said wrestling is my life. I said I live for battle. There is a difference. Shyguy: What’s that? Armand: Let me put it this way. If I could last one road with those guys… I’d be in MMA too. But I can’t. Shyguy: Why not? Armand: I don’t like getting kicked in the face. Shyguy: Doesn’t that happen in SCW? Armand: Sure… but it’s easier to dodge here. You don’t get in shit for clipping a guy’s leg. They have so many rules over in MMA. Don’t do this, don’t do that. SCW is more street fighting. I like that. The elevator peeped and the door slid open. Armand: That’s how the gladiators used to do it. No real rules. Just about survival. Shyguy: Sure… They didn’t really understand, but that was ok. These guys did what they did for the paycheck. Armand wasn’t about to judge that unless they decided to get into the ring with him. Shyguy: But you life for fighting. So if nothing else, we’d like to get some clips of you working out, since you said you go straight to the gym after an event. Armand: Yes… Shyguy: Though… we’re at a hotel so I don’t - - His comment was stopped immediately when the door opened to the floor. Within a few feet was a glass wall, showing the interior of a five star gym with so many machines that it would take hours if one was so inclined to use them all. Armand: I always insist on a hotel with or near a well facilitated gym. He walked around to the main desk. Shyguy: Hello maam. The woman looked up and smiled. Armand did the rest of the talking. Armand: I’m Finnegan Piper. Staying in room 1301. These fellows want to get some clips of me working out for Supreme Championship Wrestling. Is that alright? Woman: I think so. Let me check with my manager. Armand: You do that. I’m going to get out of these wet clothes. He did just that, using his designated locker, he took the dry workout clothes therein that he stashed earlier and took a few moments to splash cold water on his face, looking at himself in the mirror. Come on, Julian… It’s about the image. Don’t let them see you’re terrified of submissions! He was. Though no one had picked it up, when he thought Alec Jacobs had almost locked him in one, it had taken Armand everything to slip out of it. No whether or not Jacobs was actually going to for a submission victory is anyone’s guess, but deep down, Julian Armand was terrified of submissions. Unfortunately for him, Finnegan Piper wasn’t. Calming the look of panic starting to etch its way onto his face, he came back to find the crew on the other side of the barrier. Armand: Problem? Shyguy: No, sir. They just asked to make sure we credit them on the video for the use of the gym. Armand: Good. Shyguy: Mind if we roll a bit before you start? Armand: That’s fine. Shyguy: Alright… mic check… mic’s good. And…. Rolling. Armand looked straight into the camera, channelling everything he had created about the man he now was for millions of people. Piper: This is Finnegan Piper. Mister Fury…You told me you have taken an interest in me. An interest in my work that you see as parallel to your own. Well let me show you how I prepare for a battle day in and day out, and let’s see how similar we really are. Follow me. He walks into the gym. There are no other patrons at this late hour. Piper: This is where gladiators come when they have down time from the battle. I wonder… what are YOU doing right now after your ‘big win’ over Toshiro? Are you celebrating? Do you think that your victory is WORTH celebrating? What about Axel Porter? Or that Rosefall fella? What did you do when ya beat them, mate? He leaned into the camera. Piper: I know whom you have beaten. I say it before and I shall say it to you now, I am BETTER than them. And before our match, I have no doubt that I will say it again, so be prepared for that, because repetition seems to be the only way of getting the lesson out to the roster of SCW. Natural selection, talent, and a drive to strive to thrive in battle that cannot be matched. This is not a recipe for success… this is the way warriors are SUPPOSED to be. He backed away and picked up a weight. Piper: Not sure if I liked that last part. Can you guys cut out everything up past where I mention the lesson to the roster of SCW? Shyguy: Sure no problem. Piper: Thanks. Just shoot whatever, I am going to get started. That sounded so lame! You sounded like Dr. Seuss for a second there! Armand started his workout routine, the camera crew getting in shots where they could. Halfway through, the Cameraguy spoke up. Shyguy: I think we got what we needed. Piper: Alright. Anything else? Shyguy: Just one… is Fury going to be your toughest opponent to date? Piper: Heh… not even close. Shyguy: Who has been your toughest challenge to date? Piper: I am. Shyguy: What? Piper: I am… I challenge myself at every turn. The bar I put above my head, mates… there aren’t that many superstars who would demand more of me. When I meet that bastard, it’s going to be real special. But a guy like Fury, no. He just wants a body to step over so he can be famous. I’ve seen it all too well before, and no doubt I will see it again. They all want the same thing. They don’t want to fight for the fight. They want to fight for fame, money, power, whatever. Shyguy: But you don’t? Piper: You know why I want to be SCW World Champion? Shyguy: Cause it means you’re the best? Piper: Fuck that. It means you get to FACE the best. It means that every opponent is someone at the top of their game. I won’t lie… my first three matches I could have sleptwalked through them and still won. That’s not arrogance or overconfidence. That is just how it is. And I know there are some folks I cannot possibly beat right now in SCW. But I ask you, how the fuck am I supposed to get better, if I face people who can’t challenge me? That’s all I want. I want to fight. I want to fight people who can beat me. I want to fight people who KNOW what it means to be a fighter… not a ‘wrestler’. There is a difference. Shyguy: Anyone in the main event at Rise to Greatness like that? Piper: No… no one like that there. Just a bunch of gang leaders trying to fist fuck their way into the promise land of being champion. No… none of them are like that. Shyguy: Not even Jake Starr? Piper: … Maybe Jake Starr. Shyguy: Alright… cool. Thanks very much. Piper: You guys know your way out? Shyguy: Yep. Piper: Ok. Thanks. They let him be. Armand did not watch them go. He could only hear the doors close as he went about his routine. Through every rep and every set, he thought about what he had said and what they had asked. Maybe Jake Starr ISN’T like the other three, but it makes no different. I am no where near close to facing that guy. Not when I have Fury to deal with. As Finnegan Piper, the slogan “I am Better than…’ was starting to catch on like wildfire on the net. There was even talk about a new line of merchandise with a t shirt and sweater that said ‘I am better than you’ on it. Armand didn’t mind that as long as people didn’t mistake him for just another arrogant asshole in SCW. There had been dozens of people who claimed their superiority in many different ways, but as Piper, Armand knew he had to be different. He had to make it seem like he didn’t take any joy in the fact that he was better than most. In fact, he had to make it seem like it disappointed him… and then back it up in the ring with stacks of bodies. It had been working beautifully, but now with Fury watching him, he began to feel the cold reality that EVENTUALLY, if not with this guy, someone was going to come along who was better than him. It’s ok for Piper to lose… right? That’s the point of competition. If I lose to someone, I can always say that I will BECOME BETTER… there we go! Because to Julian Armand, long time fan of SCW, being an SCW Superstar was a formula. Being a popular one was an extension of said formula, and being an SCW Champion was an extension of THAT formula. He had studied all the greats from Griffin to Cruze and he had come up with the kind of man that SCW had never seen before… And then that motherfucker started doing what I was doing. Fury had arrived shortly after Piper. Coming through the crowd, being all quiet. It made Armand mad, because that was his thing, and now this guy was trying to show he could do it better than Finnegan Piper! Fuck that! he thought to himself. That asshole is going to get crowned! He grabbed grip resistance, squeezing off 20 reps while he watched in the mirror, working his wrists and forearms hard. These were the foundation of the Crown, his most lethal move. If he locked that in, Fury wasn’t getting out. Let’s see how your world deals with my crown, Mr. Fury. I’ll go into your little world and I’m going to rip it apart. And as the workout went on, it should be said that Julian Armand got angrier and more amped to rip Fury apart. But tucked away in a place that Finnegan Piper would never show to the world was that fear. Fear of Fury’s submissions. Julian wouldn’t think about it much, even as he hitch hiked his way down to Rise to Greatness… He wouldn’t give it another thought until he saw the matches the night before RTG. He finally remember to pull up Fury’s matches against Rosefall and Porter… Shit… He buried his head in his hands at that time, knowing that Fury was indeed going to be the toughest bastard he had faced yet. By far, he would be no where near as bad as someone like Shaun Cruze… but this was not going to be as easy as Keith had been or the others he had put down. He placed a hand at the back of his neck. But I don’t have time to worry about losing… I have to get past this guy. The ticking time bomb in his skin would not be kind and patient. When it went off, it was going to be game over, no matter what happened… Fury or not… I’m moving forward to my first Rise to Greatness! **** [/color] ![]() ***** ![]() Mister Fury, Second time in a row that I have actually decided to go further in what I say. Let me give you a fair warning… Your submissions are useless against me. That is not reckless bravado or any sort of bluff on my part. I just want to give you the advantage of knowing that. Because even if this night means nothing to me, I know it means something to you. And I don’t want you to make any stupid mistakes that may come back to cause you doubt as to which of us is the better man. So once more I give you this warning. Your submissions are useless against me. I have faced more than a few people who have used the moves you call the Machine and the Omega, or whatever you call them. The point is that they are the crossface and the liontamer. Simple as that. Do you realize how many wrestlers, big and small, good and bad, have tried to make their own versions of that move? They’re all the same, and they are all countered in the same way. Now if you are dumb enough to actually TRY that move on me, please know that I already know the counter that will spell the end of the match immediately with the Crown placed upon your head. Trust me, this is fact. And it would be wrong of me not to tell you this, because then you would have been unprepared for it, and you could use that as an excuse. I don’t want there to be any excuses, Mr. Fury. You will have none when I prove what I have said all along. That I am Finnegan Piper and that I am BETTER than Fury. No doubts, no excuses, none of that crap. You have been warned mate. You go for those submissions and this match is over. You lose, end of story, and you have nothing and no one to blame for yourself. That said, I don’t have a definitive counter to your triple powerbomb. I’m still working on that one. You want to use that, I’ll have to be ready for it. But that’s your call. You want to try your luck with the submissions, then you cannot say what will happen surprises you, because once more I say unto you… Your submissions are useless. There, you have been clearly warned and the battle is once more even. Your welcome, by the way. I don’t normally do this, but seeing as you keep saying this is an important night, I wanted to make it fair. Important night... heh, that's something which I find laughable. Because you are not a PART of the REAL Rise to Greatness. And even the REAL Rise to Greatness is not anything special! What is it with all of you? Going on and on about how important this sunday is to all of you. It is just another night! It’s just another battle! We do these battles every week of every year! I’ve said it before, and I will say it again, the greatest night of MY year will be when the SCW World Heavyweight title is placed on my shoulder and the world’s best comes at me from all corners to test my might. And tested I will be, and I will even lose to some of them... at least I hope I do, because then, I can only get better! And you seem to have watched me enough, Fury, so you should know... I am ALL about being better! That's what I want to await me. The very best from all the corners of the world. The best warriors who know what this is all about. The battle! The fight! The War! I can already tell you, Mr. Fury that you will not be one of those coming for me. That much I already can see. Because you are a man obsessed with the flash and the glitz of this industry. Your head’s stuck up your arse so far that you only see that much of what we do. You don’t see what we are to these people who sit and cheer. We are gladiators. We are Spartans. We are warriors. I’d fight you with the same force even if there was no title or rankings to fight for. Wouldn’t make a difference to me. And that’s why Rise to Greatness doesn’t mean shit to me. Like I said… just another night and that means another battle. No more, no less than all the other battles I have had, have, and will have in the future. They are all about rising to greatness… something that you have to do every night, every day. Not just once a year because that’s when you think it’s important. So in our match… I will rise as I have before. And I will place a Crown of Thorns on your little world and watch it bleed you dry. Because I am going to be greatness before my year is done. And I don’t need some special night to prove it. Because I am Finnegan Piper… and I am better than Rise to Greatness. ![]() *** To Be Continued [/align] |
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8:01 PM Jul 10