Post by Cyrus Daniels on Aug 24, 2013 16:57:46 GMT
Cyrus Daniels is sat in front of the camera, shirtless, and the doubled up length of steel chain hanging around his neck, some of its links pressed up against the fine hairs on his chest as he smirks into the lens.
Why Cyrus, why?
That's the question ya all have, ain't it? The question isn't why I beat my best mate and former tag team partner, because it's obvious why I did that, but rather why after the chain match I would go above and beyond the call of duty ta team up with some pompous limey bastard and continue to kick a man while he is not only down but also out? Where ya all ask why?
Cyrus shrugs his shoulders rather nonchalantly.
I ask why not? It is said that there is a fine line between pleasure and pain, and ta be honest, that line has always been a little blurry ta me, maybe that's why I've crossed it as many times as I have, or maybe, just maybe, pleasure and pain are the same damn thing but viewed from a different perspective. See ya all look on in horror and wince when ya think of all the pain I put the Crocodile Hunter through last Sunday, ya are all too willin' to look at it from his perspective but ya refuse ta look at it from mine, 'cause it unsettles ya ta know that what Stephen experienced as pain at Legacy, I experienced in equal measure as pleasure. I unsettled each of ya who bought a ticket ta see a beatin' because I gave ya somethin' more than that. I took not only the Crocodile Hunter ta his absolute limits but also I took each of ya ta yours along with him, because even when ya all live in a world where ya are free ta buy a front row seat ta see acts of violence, ya have your limits. Ya all flinched and cringed as I went a little too far for your tastes.
That is why ya are the civilised people and I'm just a dirty crim. The difference between us is that whilst ya like ta live the fantasy of violence for a few hours, I like ta live in the reality of it damn near all the time. Whilst ya pay for the pleasure, I get it for free from somebody else's pain. It disturbs each of ya deeply that in a business where men are routinely marketed as Gods and Messiahs and everythin' ya know they just can't be when ya really sit and think about it, that I am everythin' I say I am. I am a criminal. I cannot be marketed nor do I need it. I'm not here ta shift a few T-shirts with my mug on 'em, I'm here ta hurt somebody, anybody, and ta be rewarded for it, for that is the dirty foundation of this entire industry, ain't it? Ta reach the top, that's the game, ain't it? See I know the game, I just choose ta play it by my own rules and unlike your heroes, I don't care what ya think of me even after I win.
Bernie is a bloke, who like me, cannot be marketed or groomed by the suits, we unsettle 'em, we make 'em nervous and that's why we are pushed aside, denied opportunities and only brought out as some sorta freak show attraction or filler while everybody gets up ta take a piss. Not any more. See Bernie and I will be the new faces of this company whether Mr De Montford likes it or not. The days of the wrestlers with the fancy monikers are over, Bernie and I, we're not wrestlers. We're a new breed. We're fighters, we're survivors and we're killers. I see now why the Hunter was so inept as a partner, he does not come from my world, he was merely thrown inta it, a victim of circumstance and misplaced nobility. Bernie is none of these things, in fact if there is anythin' I have learned from him it is that it is more often than not necessary to just pull the damn trigger and put some poor bastard outta his misery.
So that is what I did at Legacy this past Sunday.
And it is what I will do at Sacrifice this comin' Monday.
Bernie and I will put an end ta the broken man's Spike Kane and his partner, the muscle-bound moron, JackHammer. The team collectively known as Alpha and Omega. I'm sorry Ken, but mate after I've battled and beaten a man who has your entire shtick down pat even better than ya do, ya don't intimidate me in the slightest. Ya boys have been at this for a while, ain't ya? A lot longer than Bernie and I, and I suppose that means somethin' ta somebody, somebody who ain't me, I mean. Ta me all ya are is a man whose multiple personalities make up for the fact that his partner has none. I've waged wars with the real Gods, mate and I ain't done yet, but for me ta consider ya among them even for a second quite frankly is insultin' ta both of us. The difference between our teams Ken should be obvious.
When ya and JackHammer saw loss in your lives, ya stepped away, ya focused elsewhere and came back. When Bernie and I saw loss in ours, there was nowhere to turn, no escape, we were surrounded by it day in and day out, forced ta dwell on it, let it fester in our minds, that freedom of choice ya enjoy was taken away from us. We had no choice but ta confront the darker realities of our existence, and so whilst your minds snapped and retreated into delusions and weight training respectively, simply to escape the horrors ya could not face, Bernie and I let our horrors forge us, and it is this that separates us from ya as much as winners are separated from losers and as much as caricatures are separated from the real monsters in this world.
We are as different from the two of ya as the beginning is from the end.
Our beginning will be your end.
I never learned much from Stephen, but he did teach me one thing.
Before the hunt, be prepared to kill.
And we are.
The room in which Cyrus Daniels is sat on his simple wooden chair is dimly lit, a situation not entirely unfamiliar to a man who had spent his fair share of time alone, only this time he wasn't. "Take It Off" by Kiss was playing in the background as Nicole Kingsley stood in front of him in a simple white bra and panties ensemble that left very little to the imagination and very soon would leave nothing at all.
Nicole wore the chain that she had just seen her elder brother Stephen with earlier in the night around her neck, and she swung the ends of it in her hands as if they were pompoms, smiling at Cyrus, she winks as she steps closer to him. She teases him before pulling back and taking the chain from around her neck and putting it around his. She leans in and whispers, their lips millimeters apart.
Nicole:Thank ya for being my new beginning, Cy. Our new beginning away from my family...
Nicole kisses him, and during this Cyrus slowly takes the chain from around his neck, and puts it around hers, tugging it slightly to pull her in closer. She doesn't object, and Cyrus starts to tighten the chain around his lover's throat, causing her to pull back slightly. Her eyes widen, and her mouth opens as she starts to choke, but then she starts to grin and this only seems to intensify their passion as their tongues explore the hollows of each other's mouths. Cyrus then loosens his grip on the chain as Nicole pulls back for barely a moment to let out a moan of pleasure, before Cyrus starts to undo her bra behind her back.
She slips out of it, letting it fall to the floor and keeping her chest pressed up against him, she giggles as she is sat in his lap and feels his body respond involuntarily to the ecstasy of their private moment. Her voice lowers to barely a whisper but is peppered with sweet seduction as her tongue flirts with his earlobe.
Nicole: Ya were right, I won't need the chain after all...but I'm goin' ta use it anyway...
Why Cyrus, why?
That's the question ya all have, ain't it? The question isn't why I beat my best mate and former tag team partner, because it's obvious why I did that, but rather why after the chain match I would go above and beyond the call of duty ta team up with some pompous limey bastard and continue to kick a man while he is not only down but also out? Where ya all ask why?
Cyrus shrugs his shoulders rather nonchalantly.
I ask why not? It is said that there is a fine line between pleasure and pain, and ta be honest, that line has always been a little blurry ta me, maybe that's why I've crossed it as many times as I have, or maybe, just maybe, pleasure and pain are the same damn thing but viewed from a different perspective. See ya all look on in horror and wince when ya think of all the pain I put the Crocodile Hunter through last Sunday, ya are all too willin' to look at it from his perspective but ya refuse ta look at it from mine, 'cause it unsettles ya ta know that what Stephen experienced as pain at Legacy, I experienced in equal measure as pleasure. I unsettled each of ya who bought a ticket ta see a beatin' because I gave ya somethin' more than that. I took not only the Crocodile Hunter ta his absolute limits but also I took each of ya ta yours along with him, because even when ya all live in a world where ya are free ta buy a front row seat ta see acts of violence, ya have your limits. Ya all flinched and cringed as I went a little too far for your tastes.
That is why ya are the civilised people and I'm just a dirty crim. The difference between us is that whilst ya like ta live the fantasy of violence for a few hours, I like ta live in the reality of it damn near all the time. Whilst ya pay for the pleasure, I get it for free from somebody else's pain. It disturbs each of ya deeply that in a business where men are routinely marketed as Gods and Messiahs and everythin' ya know they just can't be when ya really sit and think about it, that I am everythin' I say I am. I am a criminal. I cannot be marketed nor do I need it. I'm not here ta shift a few T-shirts with my mug on 'em, I'm here ta hurt somebody, anybody, and ta be rewarded for it, for that is the dirty foundation of this entire industry, ain't it? Ta reach the top, that's the game, ain't it? See I know the game, I just choose ta play it by my own rules and unlike your heroes, I don't care what ya think of me even after I win.
Bernie is a bloke, who like me, cannot be marketed or groomed by the suits, we unsettle 'em, we make 'em nervous and that's why we are pushed aside, denied opportunities and only brought out as some sorta freak show attraction or filler while everybody gets up ta take a piss. Not any more. See Bernie and I will be the new faces of this company whether Mr De Montford likes it or not. The days of the wrestlers with the fancy monikers are over, Bernie and I, we're not wrestlers. We're a new breed. We're fighters, we're survivors and we're killers. I see now why the Hunter was so inept as a partner, he does not come from my world, he was merely thrown inta it, a victim of circumstance and misplaced nobility. Bernie is none of these things, in fact if there is anythin' I have learned from him it is that it is more often than not necessary to just pull the damn trigger and put some poor bastard outta his misery.
So that is what I did at Legacy this past Sunday.
And it is what I will do at Sacrifice this comin' Monday.
Bernie and I will put an end ta the broken man's Spike Kane and his partner, the muscle-bound moron, JackHammer. The team collectively known as Alpha and Omega. I'm sorry Ken, but mate after I've battled and beaten a man who has your entire shtick down pat even better than ya do, ya don't intimidate me in the slightest. Ya boys have been at this for a while, ain't ya? A lot longer than Bernie and I, and I suppose that means somethin' ta somebody, somebody who ain't me, I mean. Ta me all ya are is a man whose multiple personalities make up for the fact that his partner has none. I've waged wars with the real Gods, mate and I ain't done yet, but for me ta consider ya among them even for a second quite frankly is insultin' ta both of us. The difference between our teams Ken should be obvious.
When ya and JackHammer saw loss in your lives, ya stepped away, ya focused elsewhere and came back. When Bernie and I saw loss in ours, there was nowhere to turn, no escape, we were surrounded by it day in and day out, forced ta dwell on it, let it fester in our minds, that freedom of choice ya enjoy was taken away from us. We had no choice but ta confront the darker realities of our existence, and so whilst your minds snapped and retreated into delusions and weight training respectively, simply to escape the horrors ya could not face, Bernie and I let our horrors forge us, and it is this that separates us from ya as much as winners are separated from losers and as much as caricatures are separated from the real monsters in this world.
We are as different from the two of ya as the beginning is from the end.
Our beginning will be your end.
I never learned much from Stephen, but he did teach me one thing.
Before the hunt, be prepared to kill.
And we are.
The room in which Cyrus Daniels is sat on his simple wooden chair is dimly lit, a situation not entirely unfamiliar to a man who had spent his fair share of time alone, only this time he wasn't. "Take It Off" by Kiss was playing in the background as Nicole Kingsley stood in front of him in a simple white bra and panties ensemble that left very little to the imagination and very soon would leave nothing at all.
Nicole wore the chain that she had just seen her elder brother Stephen with earlier in the night around her neck, and she swung the ends of it in her hands as if they were pompoms, smiling at Cyrus, she winks as she steps closer to him. She teases him before pulling back and taking the chain from around her neck and putting it around his. She leans in and whispers, their lips millimeters apart.
Nicole:Thank ya for being my new beginning, Cy. Our new beginning away from my family...
Nicole kisses him, and during this Cyrus slowly takes the chain from around his neck, and puts it around hers, tugging it slightly to pull her in closer. She doesn't object, and Cyrus starts to tighten the chain around his lover's throat, causing her to pull back slightly. Her eyes widen, and her mouth opens as she starts to choke, but then she starts to grin and this only seems to intensify their passion as their tongues explore the hollows of each other's mouths. Cyrus then loosens his grip on the chain as Nicole pulls back for barely a moment to let out a moan of pleasure, before Cyrus starts to undo her bra behind her back.
She slips out of it, letting it fall to the floor and keeping her chest pressed up against him, she giggles as she is sat in his lap and feels his body respond involuntarily to the ecstasy of their private moment. Her voice lowers to barely a whisper but is peppered with sweet seduction as her tongue flirts with his earlobe.
Nicole: Ya were right, I won't need the chain after all...but I'm goin' ta use it anyway...
Well howdy there pardner.