Post by Pax Stormcrow on Jan 28, 2018 20:00:26 GMT
He grunts heavily as his body slams into the mat. He feels the slight give of the surface beneath his body before the force of the impact bounces him across the surface. Reacting quickly he rolls out of the way of his opponent's boot as it slams where his chest used to be. He continues his momentum, rising to his knees to catch the spinning kick thrown at him. The muscles in his body flex, working effortlessly from so many years of work outs and training as he lifts the other man into the air to slam him back down. He continues the movement to roll forward, planting his feet on the mat and bridging his body to keep his opponent held down. There is a long pause until Witherspoon blows on his whistle.
Pax rolls back up to his feet, sweat running off him as his defeated partner rolls out of the ring and a fresher opponent slides in to take his place. The two square off for a moment, until the whistle sounds again and their bodies slam into each other.
His mind wanders as his body takes over. They had been doing this for a long time now. Even his own commendable endurance was beginning to falter. So he cleared himself, and thought back to his matches this month. That he had a disappointing performance was an understatement.
He thought back to each attempt he made against some of the top talent in this company. Each time he faced them, he ended up on the loosing side. It didn't matter that he wasn't the one pinned in the tag match against The Pack. The only thing that mattered was that his arm was not lifted at the end.
A chop across his chest rocked his focus back on the present. He let out a roar of frustration, using a two leg take down to bring the other man back onto the mat, spinning slightly to trap him in a leg log. The two of them writhed in the ring until his partner grabbed hold of a rope. The instant that Pax is made aware of it, he cleanly breaks the hold and rolls back to his feet. He watches his foe, crouched and ready.
For so long he had demanded the best of his opponents. He certainly received it. He was pleased at the competition he received, but he couldn't shake the feeling of disappointment in his own performance. Was he really delivering the best that he could? What if he was performing the best, and his best was not good enough. That was the more terrifying concept to him.
He grunts with exertion as he lifts his sparring partner into the air, dumping them over onto their back. It could be that he was not as good as the talent in this company. It was the best in the world. In that case, all he can do is get better. He will not wash out. He will not fade to obscurity. He will train harder, longer. He will watch tape until his eyes bleed and work out until he can't move.
The IWF was not the ripe ground that he would rocket to the top. It was full of competent challenges, the best in the world. It would take hard work and perseverance to rise to the top. He was willing to put in the work. He would be the greatest athlete in this company. He knew this to be so.
Pax Stormcrow rolls with his opponent, dragging their arm back into a chicken wing hold. His muscles scream with exhaustion as he leans his body against his sparring partner, yelling with the effort until he feels the mat tremble from the hand slapping against it. Having won, he rolls off and releases his opponent even before Spoon's whistle sounds out. He leaps back up to his feet, legs trembling as sweat burns his eyes and leaves the taste of salt on his lips. His chest heaves as he catches his breath. He turns around as his next partner slides into the ring. As Spoon lifts his whistle to his lips to signal the start of the bought, Pax smiles at the other man, and beckons him forward.
-------
The camera fades in on Pax, standing on a rolled out mat. He is working his body out through a routine of stretches, almost similar to Yoga. He looks up at the camera and grins.
"Flexibility is super important in just about every fighting style. Using as much of my body in competition as I do? It's even more important. Yoga is a cornerstone in my workout. In keeps me limber, and helps to prevent injuries. The meditative benefits also help to clear my mind and control my breathing. Equally important things when you are standing in the ring."
He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath as he stretches his body upwards.
"All pieces of advice that my opponent should take to heart. Todd, we square off in the ring once again buddy. Are you excited?"
He smiles and opens his eyes to look into the camera.
"I'm going to give you some advice. You need to work on your flexibility. You keep bouncing between your wrestling career and running a hotel. But you try to run things in the ring like you do in a board room. But that won't work here. Nothing else compares to wrestling in an IWF ring. I am Olympic materiel. One of the best freestyle wrestlers in the world. But here? I haven't made a splash yet. There is nothing else like it. So you are going to need to loosen up. You are gonna need to branch yourself out some. Also, probably going to have to let go the business man."
He stretches an arm behind his head and bends to one side.
"Because to be honest? You need to treat this seriously, and less like an advertisement for your mediocre hotel chain. You walk in here like this is a joke and I am going to slam you into the mat. I have hit some bumps along the road here and I am looking to make a statement. Metamorphosis is my first Pay Per View show that I have been booked. It will not be the last. But I mean to have everyone in this company and in the audience take notice of me and take me seriously. To show that I am not a flash in the pan, and that I will go the distance no matter how long it takes."
He straightens briefly before he bends over to the other side.
"You need to clear your mind is what I am saying Todd. You gotta focus on the match. Not your company. Not your family. Ignore the various distractions you have going on. I am going into this match with a purpose and if you get distracted, you might get hurt. I don't want to hurt you, honestly. I would be devastated by that fact. So I need your mind in the game. You need to bring your best. I mean, I'm gonna win either way Todd. It's on you for how bad it will be."
He steps closer to the camera, grabbing a towel to wipe the sweat from his face.
"Because you need to breath. You have a habit of Choking, Todd. You show up for a few weeks and then you leave again. You haven't done anything since we faced last time. What will make this different? Are you still the Redeemer Todd? Because if you are, you should focuses on Redeeming yourself."
He tosses the towel to the side and looks into the camera.
"You have a lot of talent Todd. You really do. If you would stop distracting yourself you could make something of yourself. I look forward to seeing you in the ring. I really hope you come to compete. I wouldn't want to be bored."
He flashes two fingers to the camera.
"So go train. Get your mind in the game. Peace out, Todd. I'll see you Monday."
The camera fades on Pax's intent face.
Pax rolls back up to his feet, sweat running off him as his defeated partner rolls out of the ring and a fresher opponent slides in to take his place. The two square off for a moment, until the whistle sounds again and their bodies slam into each other.
His mind wanders as his body takes over. They had been doing this for a long time now. Even his own commendable endurance was beginning to falter. So he cleared himself, and thought back to his matches this month. That he had a disappointing performance was an understatement.
He thought back to each attempt he made against some of the top talent in this company. Each time he faced them, he ended up on the loosing side. It didn't matter that he wasn't the one pinned in the tag match against The Pack. The only thing that mattered was that his arm was not lifted at the end.
A chop across his chest rocked his focus back on the present. He let out a roar of frustration, using a two leg take down to bring the other man back onto the mat, spinning slightly to trap him in a leg log. The two of them writhed in the ring until his partner grabbed hold of a rope. The instant that Pax is made aware of it, he cleanly breaks the hold and rolls back to his feet. He watches his foe, crouched and ready.
For so long he had demanded the best of his opponents. He certainly received it. He was pleased at the competition he received, but he couldn't shake the feeling of disappointment in his own performance. Was he really delivering the best that he could? What if he was performing the best, and his best was not good enough. That was the more terrifying concept to him.
He grunts with exertion as he lifts his sparring partner into the air, dumping them over onto their back. It could be that he was not as good as the talent in this company. It was the best in the world. In that case, all he can do is get better. He will not wash out. He will not fade to obscurity. He will train harder, longer. He will watch tape until his eyes bleed and work out until he can't move.
The IWF was not the ripe ground that he would rocket to the top. It was full of competent challenges, the best in the world. It would take hard work and perseverance to rise to the top. He was willing to put in the work. He would be the greatest athlete in this company. He knew this to be so.
Pax Stormcrow rolls with his opponent, dragging their arm back into a chicken wing hold. His muscles scream with exhaustion as he leans his body against his sparring partner, yelling with the effort until he feels the mat tremble from the hand slapping against it. Having won, he rolls off and releases his opponent even before Spoon's whistle sounds out. He leaps back up to his feet, legs trembling as sweat burns his eyes and leaves the taste of salt on his lips. His chest heaves as he catches his breath. He turns around as his next partner slides into the ring. As Spoon lifts his whistle to his lips to signal the start of the bought, Pax smiles at the other man, and beckons him forward.
-------
The camera fades in on Pax, standing on a rolled out mat. He is working his body out through a routine of stretches, almost similar to Yoga. He looks up at the camera and grins.
"Flexibility is super important in just about every fighting style. Using as much of my body in competition as I do? It's even more important. Yoga is a cornerstone in my workout. In keeps me limber, and helps to prevent injuries. The meditative benefits also help to clear my mind and control my breathing. Equally important things when you are standing in the ring."
He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath as he stretches his body upwards.
"All pieces of advice that my opponent should take to heart. Todd, we square off in the ring once again buddy. Are you excited?"
He smiles and opens his eyes to look into the camera.
"I'm going to give you some advice. You need to work on your flexibility. You keep bouncing between your wrestling career and running a hotel. But you try to run things in the ring like you do in a board room. But that won't work here. Nothing else compares to wrestling in an IWF ring. I am Olympic materiel. One of the best freestyle wrestlers in the world. But here? I haven't made a splash yet. There is nothing else like it. So you are going to need to loosen up. You are gonna need to branch yourself out some. Also, probably going to have to let go the business man."
He stretches an arm behind his head and bends to one side.
"Because to be honest? You need to treat this seriously, and less like an advertisement for your mediocre hotel chain. You walk in here like this is a joke and I am going to slam you into the mat. I have hit some bumps along the road here and I am looking to make a statement. Metamorphosis is my first Pay Per View show that I have been booked. It will not be the last. But I mean to have everyone in this company and in the audience take notice of me and take me seriously. To show that I am not a flash in the pan, and that I will go the distance no matter how long it takes."
He straightens briefly before he bends over to the other side.
"You need to clear your mind is what I am saying Todd. You gotta focus on the match. Not your company. Not your family. Ignore the various distractions you have going on. I am going into this match with a purpose and if you get distracted, you might get hurt. I don't want to hurt you, honestly. I would be devastated by that fact. So I need your mind in the game. You need to bring your best. I mean, I'm gonna win either way Todd. It's on you for how bad it will be."
He steps closer to the camera, grabbing a towel to wipe the sweat from his face.
"Because you need to breath. You have a habit of Choking, Todd. You show up for a few weeks and then you leave again. You haven't done anything since we faced last time. What will make this different? Are you still the Redeemer Todd? Because if you are, you should focuses on Redeeming yourself."
He tosses the towel to the side and looks into the camera.
"You have a lot of talent Todd. You really do. If you would stop distracting yourself you could make something of yourself. I look forward to seeing you in the ring. I really hope you come to compete. I wouldn't want to be bored."
He flashes two fingers to the camera.
"So go train. Get your mind in the game. Peace out, Todd. I'll see you Monday."
The camera fades on Pax's intent face.
Well howdy there pardner.