Post by mattknox on Mar 17, 2022 6:56:16 GMT
“Fame is often framed as a double edged sword, and rightfully so in most professions.”
“Not this one though. No, here? Fame, infamy? They’re only met with people trying to tear your down.” The camera comes back to life, this time finding Matthew in somewhere that apparently had gained fame and fortune in the biz at some point. Brick carried both age and scorch mark against it, light spilling in through manufactured window and open wounds that were not on the blueprint at the building’s inception.
And there, seated in the wreckage dressed in black jeans, a white v neck and a word brown leather jacket with his best doc martens on sat Matt Knox. Calm, and cool as a cucumber even with the world threatening to collapse in around him.
“You can set your watch by it. They love you when you’re young, and you only win against the ones they don’t like…then you start doing good for yourself. Winning those opportunities when next time finally follows that ‘you’ll get em next time’ bullshit…”
“That’s when the sharks smell the blood. That’s when they circle, and begin taking chunks out of you. Favors you suddenly come due in repayment. People who sang your praises diminish your skill. After months of chasing a prize with everyone rooting for you, the nameplate isn’t yet changed and suddenly you’re not worthy of it..”
“It’s a champion’s lament. And it’s a weight that crushes the chest of anyone of us that is fortunate enough to win the damn things. The weight that starts out immense, then becomes a feather when you get past that first defense….then each defense brings a fresh anvil back on your chest. You count the days, the hours, the minutes…compare your time to others…”
He leaned in toward the camera, his tone dropping an octave and taking on a more caring tone.
“That’s what i’m trying to free you from, boy. It’s far too much for a child to bear. And you know it, don’t you Wraith?”
He leans back, paying a half shrug.
“And all thats in my way of delivering you this mercy, bearing your cross for you? A rosters worth of bastards who only want to maim you, and ascend their personal status….which, I’m one of. But you need to find balance, son. Silver linings…”
“Yes, I’m going to end your reign if I get the chance….but you’ll thank me when you can breathe again, and people treat you like you’re human once more..”
“You’ll thank me.”
He leaned back, shifting to lay on his side, then on his back. He slides his arms behind his head and crossed one leg over the other.
“The rest of you, though? The rest of you no doubt will hate me for having denied you the opportunity. Then you’ll hate me more when I don’t fumble the opportunity, and take the title from Wraith. You’ll hate the new interloper king who has no love for your home or the people in it…”
“But you will come to accept me, the same way we all must accept our mortality.”
“You will come to know me, as Raze. As Ruin. As The Raven…”
He trailed off almost manically, shifting in his comfortable position within the rubble before taking a steadying breath, letting loose a mirth filled chuckle and finishing in a calm, even tone.
“As Champion.”
Even as the camera cut, and the video was taken to be uploaded Matthew stayed there within the rubble, reflecting on the bluster and the reality. Trying to find which part he believed, let alone what he was trying to get others to believe. In truth, he knew he was full of shit. He knew how it would be perceived.
He knew that every other party in this shitshow looked at him and didn’t think much. Why should they? He was older, he’d lost his world title, and he was becoming increasingly more obsessed with fatherhood than bloodshed and mayhem in the squared circle. He was clearly going soft, downshifting and turning for the exit.
They weren’t wrong.
He was preparing for an end. He was looking for an exit, but he was looking to leave a fucking bodycount in his wake. The blast had to be seen for miles. God damn it, he DESERVED it. Selfishly, with all he had fucked up professionally and personally, he was owed a fantastic, violent spectacle of an end.
A shot that would define the biopic, should anyone be desperate enough to make one.
And nothing leaves a better trail, or piles quite as well into summits to climb as bodies. And if the bodies are draped in gold? All the better. You drive a man under, there are 20 others just like them ready to try and do the same to you. Drive a Champion under? Dominate and overcome the best that a roster has to offer?
You’ve driven them all under, all at once.
A few of these improbable stunts. A few acts of foolish bravado in the name of selfish ego.
And he could finally know peace.
A smile slowly spreads over his lips. Perhaps he had been too harsh on the boy. On the company. Perhaps he should have come sooner.
But, all in good time right?
And besides, who was he to question God and his plans?
He was only here to ruin them, after all.
“Not this one though. No, here? Fame, infamy? They’re only met with people trying to tear your down.” The camera comes back to life, this time finding Matthew in somewhere that apparently had gained fame and fortune in the biz at some point. Brick carried both age and scorch mark against it, light spilling in through manufactured window and open wounds that were not on the blueprint at the building’s inception.
And there, seated in the wreckage dressed in black jeans, a white v neck and a word brown leather jacket with his best doc martens on sat Matt Knox. Calm, and cool as a cucumber even with the world threatening to collapse in around him.
“You can set your watch by it. They love you when you’re young, and you only win against the ones they don’t like…then you start doing good for yourself. Winning those opportunities when next time finally follows that ‘you’ll get em next time’ bullshit…”
“That’s when the sharks smell the blood. That’s when they circle, and begin taking chunks out of you. Favors you suddenly come due in repayment. People who sang your praises diminish your skill. After months of chasing a prize with everyone rooting for you, the nameplate isn’t yet changed and suddenly you’re not worthy of it..”
“It’s a champion’s lament. And it’s a weight that crushes the chest of anyone of us that is fortunate enough to win the damn things. The weight that starts out immense, then becomes a feather when you get past that first defense….then each defense brings a fresh anvil back on your chest. You count the days, the hours, the minutes…compare your time to others…”
He leaned in toward the camera, his tone dropping an octave and taking on a more caring tone.
“That’s what i’m trying to free you from, boy. It’s far too much for a child to bear. And you know it, don’t you Wraith?”
He leans back, paying a half shrug.
“And all thats in my way of delivering you this mercy, bearing your cross for you? A rosters worth of bastards who only want to maim you, and ascend their personal status….which, I’m one of. But you need to find balance, son. Silver linings…”
“Yes, I’m going to end your reign if I get the chance….but you’ll thank me when you can breathe again, and people treat you like you’re human once more..”
“You’ll thank me.”
He leaned back, shifting to lay on his side, then on his back. He slides his arms behind his head and crossed one leg over the other.
“The rest of you, though? The rest of you no doubt will hate me for having denied you the opportunity. Then you’ll hate me more when I don’t fumble the opportunity, and take the title from Wraith. You’ll hate the new interloper king who has no love for your home or the people in it…”
“But you will come to accept me, the same way we all must accept our mortality.”
“You will come to know me, as Raze. As Ruin. As The Raven…”
He trailed off almost manically, shifting in his comfortable position within the rubble before taking a steadying breath, letting loose a mirth filled chuckle and finishing in a calm, even tone.
“As Champion.”
Even as the camera cut, and the video was taken to be uploaded Matthew stayed there within the rubble, reflecting on the bluster and the reality. Trying to find which part he believed, let alone what he was trying to get others to believe. In truth, he knew he was full of shit. He knew how it would be perceived.
He knew that every other party in this shitshow looked at him and didn’t think much. Why should they? He was older, he’d lost his world title, and he was becoming increasingly more obsessed with fatherhood than bloodshed and mayhem in the squared circle. He was clearly going soft, downshifting and turning for the exit.
They weren’t wrong.
He was preparing for an end. He was looking for an exit, but he was looking to leave a fucking bodycount in his wake. The blast had to be seen for miles. God damn it, he DESERVED it. Selfishly, with all he had fucked up professionally and personally, he was owed a fantastic, violent spectacle of an end.
A shot that would define the biopic, should anyone be desperate enough to make one.
And nothing leaves a better trail, or piles quite as well into summits to climb as bodies. And if the bodies are draped in gold? All the better. You drive a man under, there are 20 others just like them ready to try and do the same to you. Drive a Champion under? Dominate and overcome the best that a roster has to offer?
You’ve driven them all under, all at once.
A few of these improbable stunts. A few acts of foolish bravado in the name of selfish ego.
And he could finally know peace.
A smile slowly spreads over his lips. Perhaps he had been too harsh on the boy. On the company. Perhaps he should have come sooner.
But, all in good time right?
And besides, who was he to question God and his plans?
He was only here to ruin them, after all.
Well howdy there pardner.