Post by Cable Arcane on Oct 16, 2013 17:06:33 GMT
Cable Arcane was raised in an orphanage, he did not know who his parents were, what their names were or why they gave him up. He didn’t know a single thing about what his life could have been and it was tearing him up inside…
He had tried for months to keep the fury and rage at bay, he had tried to stifle the fire within him and wrestle purely for the sake of competition but recent events had slowly torn down those dreams. No longer did he seek respect or worry about whether others could see the honor in his actions, now all he cared about was sharing his pain with the world…
He had more than enough to give…
Your friends betray you…
The voice spoke to him all the time now, he did not know where it came from, he only knew it wasn’t who it claimed to be, his father did not live inside his head…
Your family abandoned you…
It wanted him to give up, let go, give himself over completely to the evil within his own soul but he still fought. He refused to accept what the voice referred to as his fate. It told him he was a monster, that he was evil, that death and destruction were the only way…
His mind throbbed with the echoes of his voice, it was all he could do to ignore them and focus on the task before him. The orphanage, old and forgotten stood before him. Long gone were the days of child rearing behind these walls, now only a lone priest took up residence here as he tried to steer the derelicts of this disgusting sink hole back toward the light.
Slowly he walked up the steps and through the ancient doors, their hinges creaking like a screaming woman in the night. Somewhere a body stirred, surprised by the late night visitor. From the rectory he emerged, a man nearly as ancient as the building he called home. His voice came like a whimper as his eyes immediately recognized the man walking toward him, mask or not.
“Cable?”
Cable Arcane did not return the man’s question, he had no need to, the terror in the man’s eyes spoke for itself. The priest backed up slightly but the door behind him had closed and he felt like a caged animal as Cable’s rough hand reached out and took him by the throat.
“C-Cable please.”
”Who were they?”
“Who were who?”
His hand squeezed tighter.
”My parents. Who. Were. They?”
“P-parents? I-I told the wo-woman who said she s-spoke for you… A-Amber…”
His grip tightened.
”No one speaks for me.”
“Sh-she came last w-week… I to-told here everything I knew…”
”Lies.”
He could feel the priest growing limp as his grip tightened even more, his finger tips now touching around the back of his neck. Slowly the priest slipped into a nightmare as Cable observed his staggered breathing…
I told you she betrayed you…
No she hadn’t, not yet, she was keeping this from him for a reason he was sure, but what reason…
He would find out…
The Mustached One has Returned to exact his revenge on the evil men who tried to end his career…
How sweet, Machado actually believes himself capable of exacting anything besides his own humiliation. Perhaps I can help you Mike and just beat myself to a pulp inside that ring for fifteen or twenty minutes while you whimper in the corner and wait for an opportune moment to score a pinfall?
I bet you would like that, I bet that sounds absolutely perfect to you because we both know that given half the chance to utterly destroy you inside that ring with no disqualifications I could do so with ease. Why, Gjenrei and I nearly ended your career once already simply because we could.
Truth be told we have no grudge with you, you were merely a pawn in a greater game we were playing with Spike Kane. The king moved his knights around the board and one by one we eliminated any of the pawns we deemed in the way. You were simply in the way of our greater game with Alex Jones. You see, Alex Jones is a true representative of this sport, a Empire prospect as he knows what it takes to succeed in this business.
You are merely an after thought. A plot point to further the villains goals as we circle in on our ultimate end game. You are nothing, Mike Machado. Less than nothing. You are a clown, a jester, a joke who dances for the enjoyment of the masses, you are not a competitor, an athlete or a prodigy in the making. You are someone whom the fans attached their whimsical dreams to because you best represent their own inability to truly obtain their goals.
An underdog in every sense of the word, someone who doesn’t deserves and hasn’t earned a single opportunity he’s gained. A man who was carried to less than a hand full of good matches by men you will never be equals with, men who were forced out of this promotion for the much more family friendly environment you invite.
Simply put you disgust me Mike Machado.
Everything about you makes me physically ill to my stomach. Your smile, your attire, your lack of skills both inside the ring and on the microphone, the way the fans mindless cheer your name as you stumble around like a buffoon and luck your way to victories over superior athletes, not to mention that disgusting thing across your upper lip.
You are a miserable excuse for a man, accepting less than your absolute best, making a career out of your lack of ability to wrestle, accepting mediocrity with a smile. You are the worst of man kind, the kind of people who elect left wing socialists to office and praise their endless printing of money, their ever growing debt and their love of giving away that which is not theirs to give.
You stand there with your hands open and wait for the world to be dropped into your palms simply because you showed up. You are a product of a world where existing entitles you to everything you could ever imagine.
You are a disgrace.
This business has become a hell hole of the half hearted. Everyday I show up to the arenas ready to put everything I have into every match I am given and yet I see men like yourself, content and complacent to open the show against nobodies and rack up meaningless wins and still demand the world.
You asked us why we joined with Spike after our wars over the tag team titles? Because we respect and share his dream. In all our encounters with InFamous we acknowledged their prowess as the best the business has to offer and when they came to us with a chance to really change this business for the better, who are we turn them down? After all, we had spent our first four months in this company fighting for honor and now here was a man who not only shared that dream but promised to assist us in making it a reality.
The Empire is going to change professional wrestling for the better. That is why we stand with the God of Xtreme, that is why we will support him in his quest to rid this promotion of scum sucking troglodytes like yourself, that is why Honorbound will stand above you all as this world you have created for yourselves burns down around you.
There will be no mercy.
He had tried for months to keep the fury and rage at bay, he had tried to stifle the fire within him and wrestle purely for the sake of competition but recent events had slowly torn down those dreams. No longer did he seek respect or worry about whether others could see the honor in his actions, now all he cared about was sharing his pain with the world…
He had more than enough to give…
Your friends betray you…
The voice spoke to him all the time now, he did not know where it came from, he only knew it wasn’t who it claimed to be, his father did not live inside his head…
Your family abandoned you…
It wanted him to give up, let go, give himself over completely to the evil within his own soul but he still fought. He refused to accept what the voice referred to as his fate. It told him he was a monster, that he was evil, that death and destruction were the only way…
His mind throbbed with the echoes of his voice, it was all he could do to ignore them and focus on the task before him. The orphanage, old and forgotten stood before him. Long gone were the days of child rearing behind these walls, now only a lone priest took up residence here as he tried to steer the derelicts of this disgusting sink hole back toward the light.
Slowly he walked up the steps and through the ancient doors, their hinges creaking like a screaming woman in the night. Somewhere a body stirred, surprised by the late night visitor. From the rectory he emerged, a man nearly as ancient as the building he called home. His voice came like a whimper as his eyes immediately recognized the man walking toward him, mask or not.
“Cable?”
Cable Arcane did not return the man’s question, he had no need to, the terror in the man’s eyes spoke for itself. The priest backed up slightly but the door behind him had closed and he felt like a caged animal as Cable’s rough hand reached out and took him by the throat.
“C-Cable please.”
”Who were they?”
“Who were who?”
His hand squeezed tighter.
”My parents. Who. Were. They?”
“P-parents? I-I told the wo-woman who said she s-spoke for you… A-Amber…”
His grip tightened.
”No one speaks for me.”
“Sh-she came last w-week… I to-told here everything I knew…”
”Lies.”
He could feel the priest growing limp as his grip tightened even more, his finger tips now touching around the back of his neck. Slowly the priest slipped into a nightmare as Cable observed his staggered breathing…
I told you she betrayed you…
No she hadn’t, not yet, she was keeping this from him for a reason he was sure, but what reason…
He would find out…
The Mustached One has Returned to exact his revenge on the evil men who tried to end his career…
How sweet, Machado actually believes himself capable of exacting anything besides his own humiliation. Perhaps I can help you Mike and just beat myself to a pulp inside that ring for fifteen or twenty minutes while you whimper in the corner and wait for an opportune moment to score a pinfall?
I bet you would like that, I bet that sounds absolutely perfect to you because we both know that given half the chance to utterly destroy you inside that ring with no disqualifications I could do so with ease. Why, Gjenrei and I nearly ended your career once already simply because we could.
Truth be told we have no grudge with you, you were merely a pawn in a greater game we were playing with Spike Kane. The king moved his knights around the board and one by one we eliminated any of the pawns we deemed in the way. You were simply in the way of our greater game with Alex Jones. You see, Alex Jones is a true representative of this sport, a Empire prospect as he knows what it takes to succeed in this business.
You are merely an after thought. A plot point to further the villains goals as we circle in on our ultimate end game. You are nothing, Mike Machado. Less than nothing. You are a clown, a jester, a joke who dances for the enjoyment of the masses, you are not a competitor, an athlete or a prodigy in the making. You are someone whom the fans attached their whimsical dreams to because you best represent their own inability to truly obtain their goals.
An underdog in every sense of the word, someone who doesn’t deserves and hasn’t earned a single opportunity he’s gained. A man who was carried to less than a hand full of good matches by men you will never be equals with, men who were forced out of this promotion for the much more family friendly environment you invite.
Simply put you disgust me Mike Machado.
Everything about you makes me physically ill to my stomach. Your smile, your attire, your lack of skills both inside the ring and on the microphone, the way the fans mindless cheer your name as you stumble around like a buffoon and luck your way to victories over superior athletes, not to mention that disgusting thing across your upper lip.
You are a miserable excuse for a man, accepting less than your absolute best, making a career out of your lack of ability to wrestle, accepting mediocrity with a smile. You are the worst of man kind, the kind of people who elect left wing socialists to office and praise their endless printing of money, their ever growing debt and their love of giving away that which is not theirs to give.
You stand there with your hands open and wait for the world to be dropped into your palms simply because you showed up. You are a product of a world where existing entitles you to everything you could ever imagine.
You are a disgrace.
This business has become a hell hole of the half hearted. Everyday I show up to the arenas ready to put everything I have into every match I am given and yet I see men like yourself, content and complacent to open the show against nobodies and rack up meaningless wins and still demand the world.
You asked us why we joined with Spike after our wars over the tag team titles? Because we respect and share his dream. In all our encounters with InFamous we acknowledged their prowess as the best the business has to offer and when they came to us with a chance to really change this business for the better, who are we turn them down? After all, we had spent our first four months in this company fighting for honor and now here was a man who not only shared that dream but promised to assist us in making it a reality.
The Empire is going to change professional wrestling for the better. That is why we stand with the God of Xtreme, that is why we will support him in his quest to rid this promotion of scum sucking troglodytes like yourself, that is why Honorbound will stand above you all as this world you have created for yourselves burns down around you.
There will be no mercy.
Well howdy there pardner.