Post by Pax Stormcrow on Mar 26, 2018 3:57:27 GMT
"What is it you want to do?"
Pax walks slowly through the gym, dressed in a pair of work out shorts and a sleeveless shirt. The phone conversation he had with his mom still running through his head.
"I want to be the absolute best."
"Of course you do, ingozis. But how do you want to get there? Everyone wants to be the best. You are all going to the same place. How do you get there?"
How indeed. He had spent the past month trying to figure out exactly what it was he wanted to do. How he wanted to get to his destination.
"I want to do it on my terms. I want to make it to the top of the wrestling world as one of the good guys. I don't want to be someone who takes short cuts."
"You know, some of those short cuts are still within the rules. You are more then capable of doing them while the crowd still loves you."
He frowns, the atmosphere the the gym surrounding him. The heavy grunts of the weightlifters. The sound of iron crashing into iron. The slapping of flesh from people working the mats.
"Ya, I know that. But I want to do better then that."
"Because of your pride."
"Is it wrong to be proud of what I do? It is one of the only things I have left."
"There is nothing wrong with pride. When it is founded in fact. When you have something to back it up. It must have some bend. What do you have to be proud of."
"Well I..."
"Lately."
Pax scowls, the memory of the conversation still fresh in his mind. He approaches a bag, staring at it with disdain. He was a grappler, one of the best in the world. Striking was for the unskilled, the weak. Those who lacked the dedication to enjoy the purity of the sport.
"Well... nothing I suppose. But I..."
"Yes, you are an olympic level wrestler. But you are not a wrestler anymore."
"What do you mean?"
"This business is not about just your skill in the ring. It is not limited to freestyle and Greco-Roman. It has a variety of fighting available. But foremost, you are an entertainer. My little bird, you are just not that entertaining."
"Wow. Ouch mom."
"Oh don't be like that. You could be. But no one is interested in the product you are selling. You are just a brown Nighthawk and not as good. You must be different. I know you can be."
"What should I do?"
"Change your image up. Show them what you are capable of. Rise above who you are now and soar. Like I know you can."
He stares at the punching bag in front of him, then he shakes his head. Gone is the look of disdain and in it's place is a look of focused concentration. He steps to the bag, striking out with a chop that he follows up with an elbow. He grunts, in anger and in effort as he works the bag over. Several of the regulars stop what they are doing, transfixed by the young athlete working in a way so much different then he usually does.
----------------------
"We've talked a lot about my journey this month, haven't we?"
Pax is standing in the dark room, the single light bulb swinging in the air above him.
"So, where is Pax Stormcrow going to go? What is he going to do? Is he gonna pull a 180? Is he gonna tear people up and throw away his moral code. Is he gonna dig around in the mud and the dirt to get his wins?"
He laughs and shakes his head.
"No, I think we all knew that was never an option. My character is not so flimsy as some people. I don't break whenever the going gets tough. Spike Kane broke my body, but he did not break my spirit. Like he broke his. Some people might be happy that the warm cuddly Spike is gone. They will embrace the return of the blood god."
Pax shrugs his shoulders.
"Maybe they will. In fact, I am one of them. Let's be honest, his heart wasn't in it before. He was trying to be what he was not. I am not like Fionna. I don't believe that there is good in everyone. Some people are just bad. That has to happen for the good people to exist. One does not exist without the other. Spike, he's one of the bad ones."
He lifts his gaze and stares into the camera.
"I look forward to breaking him for that. Sound a little harsh for me? You crippled my mentor Spike. You put me out of action for 2 weeks. Worst? You ignored me and dismissed me. They say that evil wins when good men do nothing. I mean to prove to you the mistake you made. Should you actually last until number 24? I am going to get my shot and the Invictus again. I will not come up short again. But I don't expect you to last that long. Every guy on this roster wants a piece of you Spike. You made everyone mad. From the Pack to AJ. The only friend you have is the guy who we are all fighting to get a piece of. I know one thing, you are falling short."
He shakes his head.
"Am I going to walk away and quit? I think we all know the answer to that is a big no. I'm not a quitter. I'm to stubborn for that. So what am I going to do?"
He takes a deep breath and lifts his head to the light.
"I am going to make some changes. I have been guilty of pride. I bought into my own hype. I am going to discard that all. I am not an Olympic hopeful. I am not an all state competitor. What I am is a guy who made a small splash on the independent."
He grins at the camera, giving a small shrug of his shoulders.
"But talk is cheap, right? I have to go out and show all of you. Don't worry. I will. The Thunderbird will rise and I will shock and awe everyone on this roster. I am a professional wrestler. I am a member of the IWF. But don't worry. I don't expect to convince you just yet."
He lifts his hands and claps them twice. The lights in the room blaze into brightness around him. The darkness flees and he stands alone, bathed in white light.
"But after the Roulette? Everyone will know that I am Pax. Freaking. Stormcrow."
He smirks, flashing two fingers to the camera.
"Peace out. Angel, I'll see you at Night of the Immortals."
Pax walks slowly through the gym, dressed in a pair of work out shorts and a sleeveless shirt. The phone conversation he had with his mom still running through his head.
"I want to be the absolute best."
"Of course you do, ingozis. But how do you want to get there? Everyone wants to be the best. You are all going to the same place. How do you get there?"
How indeed. He had spent the past month trying to figure out exactly what it was he wanted to do. How he wanted to get to his destination.
"I want to do it on my terms. I want to make it to the top of the wrestling world as one of the good guys. I don't want to be someone who takes short cuts."
"You know, some of those short cuts are still within the rules. You are more then capable of doing them while the crowd still loves you."
He frowns, the atmosphere the the gym surrounding him. The heavy grunts of the weightlifters. The sound of iron crashing into iron. The slapping of flesh from people working the mats.
"Ya, I know that. But I want to do better then that."
"Because of your pride."
"Is it wrong to be proud of what I do? It is one of the only things I have left."
"There is nothing wrong with pride. When it is founded in fact. When you have something to back it up. It must have some bend. What do you have to be proud of."
"Well I..."
"Lately."
Pax scowls, the memory of the conversation still fresh in his mind. He approaches a bag, staring at it with disdain. He was a grappler, one of the best in the world. Striking was for the unskilled, the weak. Those who lacked the dedication to enjoy the purity of the sport.
"Well... nothing I suppose. But I..."
"Yes, you are an olympic level wrestler. But you are not a wrestler anymore."
"What do you mean?"
"This business is not about just your skill in the ring. It is not limited to freestyle and Greco-Roman. It has a variety of fighting available. But foremost, you are an entertainer. My little bird, you are just not that entertaining."
"Wow. Ouch mom."
"Oh don't be like that. You could be. But no one is interested in the product you are selling. You are just a brown Nighthawk and not as good. You must be different. I know you can be."
"What should I do?"
"Change your image up. Show them what you are capable of. Rise above who you are now and soar. Like I know you can."
He stares at the punching bag in front of him, then he shakes his head. Gone is the look of disdain and in it's place is a look of focused concentration. He steps to the bag, striking out with a chop that he follows up with an elbow. He grunts, in anger and in effort as he works the bag over. Several of the regulars stop what they are doing, transfixed by the young athlete working in a way so much different then he usually does.
----------------------
"We've talked a lot about my journey this month, haven't we?"
Pax is standing in the dark room, the single light bulb swinging in the air above him.
"So, where is Pax Stormcrow going to go? What is he going to do? Is he gonna pull a 180? Is he gonna tear people up and throw away his moral code. Is he gonna dig around in the mud and the dirt to get his wins?"
He laughs and shakes his head.
"No, I think we all knew that was never an option. My character is not so flimsy as some people. I don't break whenever the going gets tough. Spike Kane broke my body, but he did not break my spirit. Like he broke his. Some people might be happy that the warm cuddly Spike is gone. They will embrace the return of the blood god."
Pax shrugs his shoulders.
"Maybe they will. In fact, I am one of them. Let's be honest, his heart wasn't in it before. He was trying to be what he was not. I am not like Fionna. I don't believe that there is good in everyone. Some people are just bad. That has to happen for the good people to exist. One does not exist without the other. Spike, he's one of the bad ones."
He lifts his gaze and stares into the camera.
"I look forward to breaking him for that. Sound a little harsh for me? You crippled my mentor Spike. You put me out of action for 2 weeks. Worst? You ignored me and dismissed me. They say that evil wins when good men do nothing. I mean to prove to you the mistake you made. Should you actually last until number 24? I am going to get my shot and the Invictus again. I will not come up short again. But I don't expect you to last that long. Every guy on this roster wants a piece of you Spike. You made everyone mad. From the Pack to AJ. The only friend you have is the guy who we are all fighting to get a piece of. I know one thing, you are falling short."
He shakes his head.
"Am I going to walk away and quit? I think we all know the answer to that is a big no. I'm not a quitter. I'm to stubborn for that. So what am I going to do?"
He takes a deep breath and lifts his head to the light.
"I am going to make some changes. I have been guilty of pride. I bought into my own hype. I am going to discard that all. I am not an Olympic hopeful. I am not an all state competitor. What I am is a guy who made a small splash on the independent."
He grins at the camera, giving a small shrug of his shoulders.
"But talk is cheap, right? I have to go out and show all of you. Don't worry. I will. The Thunderbird will rise and I will shock and awe everyone on this roster. I am a professional wrestler. I am a member of the IWF. But don't worry. I don't expect to convince you just yet."
He lifts his hands and claps them twice. The lights in the room blaze into brightness around him. The darkness flees and he stands alone, bathed in white light.
"But after the Roulette? Everyone will know that I am Pax. Freaking. Stormcrow."
He smirks, flashing two fingers to the camera.
"Peace out. Angel, I'll see you at Night of the Immortals."
Well howdy there pardner.