Post by mattknox on Mar 31, 2023 8:39:20 GMT
Did you miss me, my Imperial Bretheren? I imagine not. I treated this place, it’s occupants as well, very poorly the last time I was here between the beatings, the humiliations, the general disregard. Hell, I was outsourcing defenses towards the end of my reign because frankly? It would have hurt the brand otherwise.
Look at that, we’re off to a wonderful start again aren’t we?
See, the foundation of a good relationship professional, healthy ones at least, is the ability to be honest with those around you as well as yourself. And lets look at the facts honestly if only for a moment. In my entire tenure of IWF I was the most dominant force the company had ever seen. Nine wins, Seven straight if I remember right. Record setting defenses of the TV title, another win I hold over the pup named Ulf, and the only actual member of this roster to beat me….
….Sits at the top now.
Now, i’ll be honest too. I mistreated you all. I only came here because Keeton urged me to take Pax’s open challenge and to try my hand at the Roulette. A 50/50 success I parleyed into aformentioned success. And I took this blazing glory I had constructed with so little effort and upon a whim, carving through everyone in the back and I finished it….with a half hearted popcorn fart against Dane Preston.
So I would like to apologize to the fans, to the back, and frankly? To myself for that. It was a very Season 8 Game of Thrones move on my part.However, what is life but an endless stream of chances to correct old mistakes and then repeat them over and over until your life is so mercifully snuffed out?
So here I am, repeating that mistake.
Trying to erase the mistakes that are the lot of you….
….maybe kill a God.
Sundown, he took care to catch a glimpse of the brilliant flashes of orange and purple upon Calypso’s rolling face before stepping back into the confines of his home through the back door, the soft ‘clack’ of the door barely registering as he shuffled inside the limp he hid so well from others as noticeable as the slight heave of his chest and midsection. He fell into the chair at the head of the long, old oak table and leaned his head into waiting hands.
His hair was slick, forehead soaked. His insides burned and his legs felt rubbery.
It was amazing.
He straightened up if only for a minute before leaning back into the unforgiving, worn ornate wooden chair’s sparse padding. A controlled, shallow breathe left him as a hand came up in a pathetic attempt to fix the loos strands of salt and pepper hair that hung down in his face. The black wifebeater clung to his form, one that was quickly beginning to retake a much more familiar toned form.
It felt different, somehow. All of it. He got into this business at his step-father’s insistence and it was about doing right by him at first, then when he came back at damn near forty it was about atoning for the popcorn fart of an ending he had in that initial run. He succeeded at both, with flying colours in the end. His second run while so much shorter was almost historically decorated.
Two years, Five reigns, two of them World Titles. Four of them Simultaneous in their reign. Two Record Setters. One title he never even got pinned for. There was a laundry list of ways to brag about his run, and an even longer one full of ways to spin the bullshit to rise his ego ever farther.
His breathing settled with his expression, palm falling from his face to flatten on the table, eyes settling on the empty chair across from him.
All that accomplishment…All those fuzzy, warm memories of victories and horrible, life altering wars for leather and gold. Big and Grand and Amazing as they were, they weren’t big enough to fill the hole that…
SMACK
His palm made contact with the table,, fingers curling inward to form a fist that silently choked the unspoken words away from even being a thought. He couldn’t let those thoughts creep in, not again. They’re what had driven him to the deepist pits the first time. The knowledge of his failure with Astryd and their daughter enough to drive needle after needle into vein after vein. That man was killed, and had to stay dead.
It did little to help him understand the man he was now, though.
The Corvid Combat Academy could have been just as rewarding as this new run. The school was a success by all standards, two additional chains fully staffed. Practically ran itself. A snort at the thought, maybe that was the problem? It was a reward, lacking the fight to earn it at this point. If he didn’t have so many heirs to worry about he had a mind to sell them off to some big corporate conglomerate or let Tapp have them and just stay off Twitter for the week after the sale.
A dry chuckle at the thought before the fist flattened back out, fingers splaying as he punished himself ever further with the effort it took to push himself vertical. He limped to the nearest window, staring out at Calypso in a manner akin to a child asking for guidance, his hand coming up to stroke the stubbled chin.
Wealth, Wrath, War, Ambition….He wished there was more to him. He wished that he believed in the love he shared as much as those that received it believed in it. He wished that he didn’t have to fake the warmth he felt, but here he was. And why should he feel warmth, given the deeds he’d commited?
His expression twitched along with the tanned, bare ring finger on the left hand that hung limply at his side. He slouched forward, intently watching the waves with his forehead pressed to the glass.
Forgiveness….he’d never earned enough to give.
Had he been a little wiser, maybe he could have figured that as the problem….
If.
I'm a sun That doEsn't burn hot
I'm a moon that never shows its face
I'm a mouth that doesn't smile
I'm a word that no one ever wants to say
So, I guess that brings me to my first opponent back.
I mean, it’s nice to be the local favorite. Free drinks at the local dive bar between the shitty gigs that your name broiught all thirty people to, eh M…Mark? Is it Mark?
Well, it’s Mark now either way.
And look at where that has brought you. Biggest stage of your life. Cameras, TV, live video of your shining moment with one of the absolute best to ever lace them up. Arrogant? Yes.
Justified?
Ask the boys in the back while you bug them for autographs, or if you’re too busy word vomiting your praise for them maybe just take a moment to notice the tremble in their penmanship. Take their fear, the fear of men who are used to the pressures of this stage, and question what could make them tremble the way the cameras make you do?
Let me solve the riddle.
You’re getting into the ring with the Goddamn Devil, Mark.
A devil who has come for his due, a Devil with black wings and a lot less reason to hold back. A devil with the face you dreamed of having, living the life you live the Wish.com version of. And when that spark of bravery hits from these words, douse it in gasoline because I want you to want to prove something out there Mark.
I want you to believe you can prove something.
Because I want to see the defeat in your face when you realize that Belief was never going to be enough.
That you, and your Belief, Could Not Stop Me.
I am Raze.
I am Ruin.
I am The Raven….
…..Who are you?
Well howdy there pardner.