Post by Andrew Jacobsen on Mar 18, 2018 18:00:32 GMT
The Roulette can define someone's entire year. Even if they don't win, a good showing can give you the momentum to go on to great things. Devlin Raine had a fantastic performance last year, and he went on to be Man of Steel Champion and really stake his claim as one of the most underrated talents in the entire Imperial Wrestling Federation. This year, he's raised the stakes for himself higher than anyone else. Victory or nothing, he's promised. If he doesn't win the Roulette, he's promised to hang up his boots. All I can say is...please, Dev. Don't do this.
I know I can't change your mind. That's about as plausible as suplexing a train. But I have to say it. Now that that formality's out of the way...bring the fight, Dev. Bring every ounce of fire and fury that I know burns in your heart. Show the world what I know to be true about you, what Dean knows to be true, what Nighthawk knows to be true: you're a World Champion, Dev, if not in record then in spirit. Make that spirit real. Shock everyone who hasn't been paying attention.
Show them that there's no fate but that which we make for ourselves.
I know you don't want me to take it easy on you, even with the specter of your self-imposed stipulation hanging over your neck like the Sword of Damocles. So I'm going to force myself to give you what you want. I'm going to give you the fight of your life, Devlin, and I expect nothing but the absolute apex of your abilities in return. If you want to be World Champion, if you want to slay God, you're going to need to be past the best you've ever been. That's not hyperbole, that's a dead honest fact. He will push you to places you didn't know you could go, and if you aren't ready to answer with resolve and roaring defiance, you won't have a chance in hell of surviving.
Then again, if there's anything Devlin Raine should be known for by now, it's spitting in the face of gods and living to tell the tale.
So step up, Dev. Fight the good fight, break the patterns that bind us, shake up our complacent world and deal your own destiny. Everything's in the cards...and when you hold the deck, you control everything. Ball's in your court. History is your canvas.
What story will you write?
Andrew steps out of the rental car, a grin on his face. "Look at that." He takes a few steps forward, shaking his head as he walks closer to the lip of the Grand Canyon. Danielle pulls herself out of the passenger's seat, jaw dropping involuntarily as she takes in the full panorama of the canyon, the red-orange rays of the sun scattering throughout the sky and bathing the landscape in its hues. Andrew looks back at Danielle with a grin. "Wasn't this worth the drive from Phoenix?"
"I, uh...okay, you win this one." Danielle stammers out, desperately scrambling for her composure. "Why in the hell hadn't I come here before? This is..." She fumbles with her words for a few more seconds as she walks up beside Andrew, taking his arm. Finally, she shakes her head, smiling ruefully. "Wow."
"I know." Andrew nods, grinning. "I'm asking myself the same question. I guess I needed to wait for the right moment...the right person to share it with." Danielle snuggles into his side, and Andrew smiles, reaching down and taking her hand. They quickly interlock fingers, and Andrew squeezes Danielle's hand gently. "See? I can do things that aren't work-related. Promise."
"Damn right you can." Danielle mumbles into his side, smiling broadly. She looks up at Andrew. "Speaking of, we've got to set a date for this wedding. What were you thinking?"
Without hesitation, Andrew replies. "May 14th. Seven years to the day since we met. I know it's a Vegas wedding, but I figure the timing worked out perfectly."
"Well, except for the fact it's an Open Fight Night." Danielle cracks, grinning at Andrew. "How about the day before? That way, we're not cramming everything into one night. Damn you and your memory, having answers."
Andrew shakes his head. "Look, my memory isn't that great. It's a miracle I can remember my passwords most days. Still...okay, the thirteenth works." He turns to Danielle, leaning over, and they share a brief kiss before turning and looking back out over the Canyon. Andrew sighs, squeezing Danielle's hand again. "So. We, uh, we need to start making with the invitations, don't we?"
Danielle nods, smile still on her face, but as the words sink in her expression freezes. "Oh God." Her smile doesn't waver, but something in her eyes has shifted from happiness to dread. "You gave me two months to plan a wedding. You son of a bitch."
Andrew takes a few steps back, putting his hands up. "Hey, you could have said no. Still could, you know."
Danielle shakes her head, groaning. "I know. But I'm a sucker for significance. Now come on, there's a souvenir shop down the road and I feel like being a tacky tourist for once in my life."
"How many postcards are you going to buy?" Andrew groans, dreading the answer.
Danielle walks back to the car, opening the door. "So many, hotshot, so many. Come on. We'll drive back out here and get all googly-eyed in a bit. Give me this."
Andrew nods, sighing, and Danielle lets out a whoop of joy, ducking into the car and closing the door. Andrew walks back to the car, shaking his head. "The things I do for love..." he chuckles to himself, opening the driver's side door. Andrew looks back out over the canyon one more time, a smile on his face, before slipping back into the car, closing the door. The engine rumbles to life, and the car pulls back, heading out onto the trail back to the main road as we fade out.
Devlin's not the only man I consider a friend in this match. I've got a couple of guys that've proven their worth through thick and thin...but only one I've ever considered a mentor.
Nighthawk. You asked to be entered first in the Roulette. I don't have to ask why. You need to prove to yourself that you've got what it takes to be World Champion. You want the hardest road possible, because otherwise you won't feel like you've really earned your place. I get that. We're cut from that same cloth. We always feel the need to push ourselves harder and further than before, because we're uncomfortable in our own skin if we feel like we're standing still.
I'm going to ask you to take what I say to heart. Please, understand that I say these things because they're the god's honest truth, not because I want to fill airtime. You need to hear these things for your own sake, and I know because I needed someone to tell me them not too long ago.
You're World Champion material. You have every tool you need to succeed. You're a dedicated, steadfast protector of all that's not just right, but righteous. You face every obstacle the world can throw at you, and you don't bend or break. You stand back up, you dust yourself off, and even if it takes longer than you expected, you get back in the ring and you keep fighting. You're a hero, Nighthawk. You're my hero. And I know you have what it takes to beat any man on the roster any given week. Talent isn't the issue. It's belief.
You don't believe in yourself. You think that you can only be defined by your failures. I don't want that Nighthawk out there. I want the Nighthawk that takes me to my limits and beyond every time we step between the ropes. I want the Nighthawk that forged a legend all across the world, from Mexico to Europe to Japan. I want to see the legend made flesh, and I want to see him tear into Spike Kane the way that he deserves. I want to see your very best, because I know that your best can take you to Night of the Immortals.
I want to be champion again, of course. We're all here to be champions. But you...Hawk, I think you need this more than even you recognize. I'll give you the best fight I can. I'll do everything I can to win, because it'd be a slap in the face if I didn't. So step up, man. Remind the world why you're the Master of 1,000 Holds.
Bring your best. I'll bring mine. And may the best man win.
I know I can't change your mind. That's about as plausible as suplexing a train. But I have to say it. Now that that formality's out of the way...bring the fight, Dev. Bring every ounce of fire and fury that I know burns in your heart. Show the world what I know to be true about you, what Dean knows to be true, what Nighthawk knows to be true: you're a World Champion, Dev, if not in record then in spirit. Make that spirit real. Shock everyone who hasn't been paying attention.
Show them that there's no fate but that which we make for ourselves.
I know you don't want me to take it easy on you, even with the specter of your self-imposed stipulation hanging over your neck like the Sword of Damocles. So I'm going to force myself to give you what you want. I'm going to give you the fight of your life, Devlin, and I expect nothing but the absolute apex of your abilities in return. If you want to be World Champion, if you want to slay God, you're going to need to be past the best you've ever been. That's not hyperbole, that's a dead honest fact. He will push you to places you didn't know you could go, and if you aren't ready to answer with resolve and roaring defiance, you won't have a chance in hell of surviving.
Then again, if there's anything Devlin Raine should be known for by now, it's spitting in the face of gods and living to tell the tale.
So step up, Dev. Fight the good fight, break the patterns that bind us, shake up our complacent world and deal your own destiny. Everything's in the cards...and when you hold the deck, you control everything. Ball's in your court. History is your canvas.
What story will you write?
Andrew steps out of the rental car, a grin on his face. "Look at that." He takes a few steps forward, shaking his head as he walks closer to the lip of the Grand Canyon. Danielle pulls herself out of the passenger's seat, jaw dropping involuntarily as she takes in the full panorama of the canyon, the red-orange rays of the sun scattering throughout the sky and bathing the landscape in its hues. Andrew looks back at Danielle with a grin. "Wasn't this worth the drive from Phoenix?"
"I, uh...okay, you win this one." Danielle stammers out, desperately scrambling for her composure. "Why in the hell hadn't I come here before? This is..." She fumbles with her words for a few more seconds as she walks up beside Andrew, taking his arm. Finally, she shakes her head, smiling ruefully. "Wow."
"I know." Andrew nods, grinning. "I'm asking myself the same question. I guess I needed to wait for the right moment...the right person to share it with." Danielle snuggles into his side, and Andrew smiles, reaching down and taking her hand. They quickly interlock fingers, and Andrew squeezes Danielle's hand gently. "See? I can do things that aren't work-related. Promise."
"Damn right you can." Danielle mumbles into his side, smiling broadly. She looks up at Andrew. "Speaking of, we've got to set a date for this wedding. What were you thinking?"
Without hesitation, Andrew replies. "May 14th. Seven years to the day since we met. I know it's a Vegas wedding, but I figure the timing worked out perfectly."
"Well, except for the fact it's an Open Fight Night." Danielle cracks, grinning at Andrew. "How about the day before? That way, we're not cramming everything into one night. Damn you and your memory, having answers."
Andrew shakes his head. "Look, my memory isn't that great. It's a miracle I can remember my passwords most days. Still...okay, the thirteenth works." He turns to Danielle, leaning over, and they share a brief kiss before turning and looking back out over the Canyon. Andrew sighs, squeezing Danielle's hand again. "So. We, uh, we need to start making with the invitations, don't we?"
Danielle nods, smile still on her face, but as the words sink in her expression freezes. "Oh God." Her smile doesn't waver, but something in her eyes has shifted from happiness to dread. "You gave me two months to plan a wedding. You son of a bitch."
Andrew takes a few steps back, putting his hands up. "Hey, you could have said no. Still could, you know."
Danielle shakes her head, groaning. "I know. But I'm a sucker for significance. Now come on, there's a souvenir shop down the road and I feel like being a tacky tourist for once in my life."
"How many postcards are you going to buy?" Andrew groans, dreading the answer.
Danielle walks back to the car, opening the door. "So many, hotshot, so many. Come on. We'll drive back out here and get all googly-eyed in a bit. Give me this."
Andrew nods, sighing, and Danielle lets out a whoop of joy, ducking into the car and closing the door. Andrew walks back to the car, shaking his head. "The things I do for love..." he chuckles to himself, opening the driver's side door. Andrew looks back out over the canyon one more time, a smile on his face, before slipping back into the car, closing the door. The engine rumbles to life, and the car pulls back, heading out onto the trail back to the main road as we fade out.
Devlin's not the only man I consider a friend in this match. I've got a couple of guys that've proven their worth through thick and thin...but only one I've ever considered a mentor.
Nighthawk. You asked to be entered first in the Roulette. I don't have to ask why. You need to prove to yourself that you've got what it takes to be World Champion. You want the hardest road possible, because otherwise you won't feel like you've really earned your place. I get that. We're cut from that same cloth. We always feel the need to push ourselves harder and further than before, because we're uncomfortable in our own skin if we feel like we're standing still.
I'm going to ask you to take what I say to heart. Please, understand that I say these things because they're the god's honest truth, not because I want to fill airtime. You need to hear these things for your own sake, and I know because I needed someone to tell me them not too long ago.
You're World Champion material. You have every tool you need to succeed. You're a dedicated, steadfast protector of all that's not just right, but righteous. You face every obstacle the world can throw at you, and you don't bend or break. You stand back up, you dust yourself off, and even if it takes longer than you expected, you get back in the ring and you keep fighting. You're a hero, Nighthawk. You're my hero. And I know you have what it takes to beat any man on the roster any given week. Talent isn't the issue. It's belief.
You don't believe in yourself. You think that you can only be defined by your failures. I don't want that Nighthawk out there. I want the Nighthawk that takes me to my limits and beyond every time we step between the ropes. I want the Nighthawk that forged a legend all across the world, from Mexico to Europe to Japan. I want to see the legend made flesh, and I want to see him tear into Spike Kane the way that he deserves. I want to see your very best, because I know that your best can take you to Night of the Immortals.
I want to be champion again, of course. We're all here to be champions. But you...Hawk, I think you need this more than even you recognize. I'll give you the best fight I can. I'll do everything I can to win, because it'd be a slap in the face if I didn't. So step up, man. Remind the world why you're the Master of 1,000 Holds.
Bring your best. I'll bring mine. And may the best man win.
Well howdy there pardner.