Post by Pax Stormcrow on Mar 19, 2018 18:46:27 GMT
"So you gotta be asking yourselves, how is Pax Stormcrow going to change? What's different about him? Or is this just another heartfelt song and dance before not quite making it again?"
The scene picks up where it last left off, with Pax sitting in the dark room with a single light bulb illuminating him. He takes a heavy breath and shakes his head.
"I hope it's not just more of the same empty words. I am not looking at myself as the Olympic caliber athlete. Cause ya know what? I never actually got to the Olympics and all of my skill and talent has amounted to anything here. Nothing I have done has been special. I have beaten a few other guys at my level of the card, but I have gotten beaten more often then I have won. Somehow, I earned myself a title shot and what did I do with it?"
He let's out a heavy sigh.
"I didn't listen to the advice of my manager. I went into it feeling proud and righteous and I got my head driven into a steel chair. Obviously, all my talk of demanding the best from my competitors? What good has it done me? Especially when I obviously haven't given my best. I could sit here and talk about how I deserve to get these shots. I deserve to step into the ring with these competitors. But what have I done to deserve it? Nothing. I have to earn my position and earn my respect. The Roulette is a great chance to do that."
He slowly stands to his feet and gives the camera a look of absolute intensity.
"So I am going to take that chance with both hands and show the roster, management, and the world what Pax Stormcrow is capable of. I am not going to be the strongest in that ring. I am not going to be the most skilled. I am not even going to be the toughest going into it."
He takes a deep breath and studies the floor for a long moment. The expression on his face shows that admitting these things are difficult for him to say.
"But I have an advantage that everyone else there doesn't have."
______________________
Pax Stormcrow sits on the bed in his hotel room in the dark. The only light that fills the room is from the moon hanging just outside the window. Nothing is on save for the angry red letters of the hotel alarm clock on the bedside table. The only sound is his slow and even breathing. The young athlete sits in silence and darkness as thoughts race through his head.
His career in the IWF has been lackluster. He hasn't reached the heights that anyone expected from him. It would not be long before more and more people gave up on him. He needed to make a change, but he wasn't certain what he needed to do.
There were several options that were available to him of course. The most obvious of course is ending his contract. Many have said that he doesnt have the skill or the experience to get by at the top of this business. He could walk away and grind out some time on the Indy circuit. Get more of a following, get some more experience. Hone his craft until he was ready for the big time. The checks would be smaller and the schedule more grueling. But anything worth working on involves a great deal of suffering before hand.
Then there was taking the advice of his manager. His wins are all but meaningless. Of the people he had defeated in the ring the only one worth mentioning was a time traveling symbol of colonial aggression. Defeat of people like Mr. Happy and Todd Williams? It was expected that you would beat their like. It was impressing no one. Each of his loss could be pointed to by ignoring his mentors advice. By going his own way and doing what he believed was best. Spoon never hesitated to point that out to him. Maybe he should follow it more. Maybe he should follow all of it. There was something to be said for ruthless aggression. Werent his goals worth doing whatever it takes to meet them?
The young man sat in his hotel room, struggling with his choices and deviled by his own thoughts and self doubt.
________________________
"Everyone else in the Roulette has one of two goals in mind. They want to face the Champ, and they want to take the Invictus belt from Spike Kane. That's why they are there. But not me."
He takes a breath as he runs both his hands through his hair and rests them on the back of his head.
"Don't get me wrong. I would love to win the whole thing, and get a shot at Angel at Night of the Immortals. Who wouldn't? It's the pinnacle of this company. But that is not my goal. Obviously I want another shot at Spike Kane. He injured my mentor. He drove my head through a chair. He robbed AJ of his title. He tricked everyone around here into thinking that he had changed, that he would be a better person. He deserves retribution and I would like to be the one to give it to him."
He takes a deep breath, his body shaking with passion.
"But, that is not my goal."
He lifts his head up and stares into the camera with fire in his eyes.
"They are simply side products. Extra incentives to what I really want to accomplish in that ring. MY goal, the thing that gives me an edge over every other athlete that is entering the competition? I want to prove that I belong here. I want to go out there and fight my heart out. I want to show everyone what I can do. I don't care if I am the first person eliminated or if I win the whole thing. None of it will matter if I can't show everyone at home that I am worthy of competing in that ring for you. I am doing this for you. I am doing this for my mom. But most importantly?"
He steps towards the camera.
"I am doing this for myself. To prove to myself that I belong here and to strip down my misplaced ego."
The scene picks up where it last left off, with Pax sitting in the dark room with a single light bulb illuminating him. He takes a heavy breath and shakes his head.
"I hope it's not just more of the same empty words. I am not looking at myself as the Olympic caliber athlete. Cause ya know what? I never actually got to the Olympics and all of my skill and talent has amounted to anything here. Nothing I have done has been special. I have beaten a few other guys at my level of the card, but I have gotten beaten more often then I have won. Somehow, I earned myself a title shot and what did I do with it?"
He let's out a heavy sigh.
"I didn't listen to the advice of my manager. I went into it feeling proud and righteous and I got my head driven into a steel chair. Obviously, all my talk of demanding the best from my competitors? What good has it done me? Especially when I obviously haven't given my best. I could sit here and talk about how I deserve to get these shots. I deserve to step into the ring with these competitors. But what have I done to deserve it? Nothing. I have to earn my position and earn my respect. The Roulette is a great chance to do that."
He slowly stands to his feet and gives the camera a look of absolute intensity.
"So I am going to take that chance with both hands and show the roster, management, and the world what Pax Stormcrow is capable of. I am not going to be the strongest in that ring. I am not going to be the most skilled. I am not even going to be the toughest going into it."
He takes a deep breath and studies the floor for a long moment. The expression on his face shows that admitting these things are difficult for him to say.
"But I have an advantage that everyone else there doesn't have."
______________________
Pax Stormcrow sits on the bed in his hotel room in the dark. The only light that fills the room is from the moon hanging just outside the window. Nothing is on save for the angry red letters of the hotel alarm clock on the bedside table. The only sound is his slow and even breathing. The young athlete sits in silence and darkness as thoughts race through his head.
His career in the IWF has been lackluster. He hasn't reached the heights that anyone expected from him. It would not be long before more and more people gave up on him. He needed to make a change, but he wasn't certain what he needed to do.
There were several options that were available to him of course. The most obvious of course is ending his contract. Many have said that he doesnt have the skill or the experience to get by at the top of this business. He could walk away and grind out some time on the Indy circuit. Get more of a following, get some more experience. Hone his craft until he was ready for the big time. The checks would be smaller and the schedule more grueling. But anything worth working on involves a great deal of suffering before hand.
Then there was taking the advice of his manager. His wins are all but meaningless. Of the people he had defeated in the ring the only one worth mentioning was a time traveling symbol of colonial aggression. Defeat of people like Mr. Happy and Todd Williams? It was expected that you would beat their like. It was impressing no one. Each of his loss could be pointed to by ignoring his mentors advice. By going his own way and doing what he believed was best. Spoon never hesitated to point that out to him. Maybe he should follow it more. Maybe he should follow all of it. There was something to be said for ruthless aggression. Werent his goals worth doing whatever it takes to meet them?
The young man sat in his hotel room, struggling with his choices and deviled by his own thoughts and self doubt.
________________________
"Everyone else in the Roulette has one of two goals in mind. They want to face the Champ, and they want to take the Invictus belt from Spike Kane. That's why they are there. But not me."
He takes a breath as he runs both his hands through his hair and rests them on the back of his head.
"Don't get me wrong. I would love to win the whole thing, and get a shot at Angel at Night of the Immortals. Who wouldn't? It's the pinnacle of this company. But that is not my goal. Obviously I want another shot at Spike Kane. He injured my mentor. He drove my head through a chair. He robbed AJ of his title. He tricked everyone around here into thinking that he had changed, that he would be a better person. He deserves retribution and I would like to be the one to give it to him."
He takes a deep breath, his body shaking with passion.
"But, that is not my goal."
He lifts his head up and stares into the camera with fire in his eyes.
"They are simply side products. Extra incentives to what I really want to accomplish in that ring. MY goal, the thing that gives me an edge over every other athlete that is entering the competition? I want to prove that I belong here. I want to go out there and fight my heart out. I want to show everyone what I can do. I don't care if I am the first person eliminated or if I win the whole thing. None of it will matter if I can't show everyone at home that I am worthy of competing in that ring for you. I am doing this for you. I am doing this for my mom. But most importantly?"
He steps towards the camera.
"I am doing this for myself. To prove to myself that I belong here and to strip down my misplaced ego."
Well howdy there pardner.