Post by Abigail on Jun 22, 2024 22:44:37 GMT
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“But they that will be rich fall into temptation and a snare, and into many foolish and hurtful lusts, which drown men in destruction and perdition.” - Timothy VI: 9.
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The first minute’s silence of the surrounding darkness was broken by the sweetest sound in the world, the utter joy and laughter of a loving couple, in complete synchronicity with each other.
The second minute’s howling was complemented by the sound of a dozen hands clapping.
The third minute returned abruptly to silence as Heaven’s light revealed The Archangel’s black and purple smoky wings, inked across each shoulder blade and framing the top of Abigail’s spine. The left wing tip was stained with blood. The entire art piece etched across pale skin was framed beautifully in a black bamboo backless dress, and her hair gathered up in a loose bun.
She sat on a wooden stool, with three candles on either side, each paired with a single white rose. Abigail looked over her left shoulder and smiled before she spun around on the stool to face forward. In her lap was a seventh candle, which she acknowledged with a bowed head and closed eyes for a full thirty seconds before she opened her eyes, took a deep breath. A rogue streak of forest green fell down the right side of her face, as she lifted her head and finally spoke.
Man Plans, and God Laughs.
God has always laughed at my best laid life plans, and I had very little idea what that truly felt like until last week. Last week was the first time in this tournament that I felt the true joy of bein’ back at work, maybe ‘cause I got ta utterly blow up the best laid plans of one of the most prolifically idolatrous blasphemers I’ve ever met in my life, first hand, Madjinn.
I may not have won, but I didn’t just roll over an’ die like he so desperately wanted an’ needed me ta. Last week, Savage Kingdom’s blatantly false narrative of havin’ no teams capable of matchin’ up ta ‘em was exposed for the second week in a row when once again they failed ta walk all over another makeshift tag team in this tournament.
Anyone can be a title holder, but not every title holder is a Champion, an’ Madjinn would do well ta learn that lesson in humility sooner rather than later, ‘cause if he don’t then I guarantee that Savage Kingdom’s gifted reign in the tag division is on borrowed time.
Whether they believe it or not, I have faith that Bella Morte’s time is comin’ a lot sooner than Savage Kingdom expects, an’ as fate would have it, this week I have been blessed with makin’ yet another case for our inevitable rise. Once more I have ta put my trust in Tytus ta watch my back against the only other team in this tournament so far who has managed ta prove just how costly Savage Kingdom’s unbridled arrogance can be.
Just like Tytus an’ I, the unlikely team of Natasha Walker an’ Allen Chaney kept Savage Kingdom at bay long enough for the fullness of time reveal the truth behind the lies as it always does, an’ as a natural born survivor myself, I have nothin’ but respect for that kinda tenacity.
After what I witnessed in the Iron Maiden a few months back, and what I witnessed at Immortals a few weeks ago, I have absolutely no doubt that for everythin’ that may divide them, the most dangerous quality as a team that unites Chaney an’ Walker is their mutual willingness ta throw everythin’ they have at their opposition whenever they step inta a wrestlin’ ring. Some would call such a never say die attitude reckless but I admire it.
Natasha threw everythin’ she had at me in the Maiden an’ left me the doctors pickin’ glass outta my ass for days afterwards, just as Allen left Tytus’ wantin’ when he won the Joker contract, so The Russian Lion an’ maself, we’re the ones with the most ta prove here.
I’m sure it tickled Verona pink ta pair me up in the Group of Death, but ya know what tickles me even pinker, it’s the fact that whilst Chaney’s fiancée was doin’ her little shadow GM thing she didn’t have enough foresight ta ensure that the contract her man won was actually signed, or at the very least try ta warn him that it wasn’t.
Almost as if Jennie Fenix only really cares about herself, an’ I have ta wonder Allen if you know that an’ that is part of the reason you tried stallin’ her on a weddin’ date for as long as ya did before she basically forced your hand an’ announced when ya were gettin’ married ta the world at the biggest show of the year, durin’ your entrance.
I don’t know about ya, but I’m glad our match is on Odyssey this week, where your fiancée has no power or influence ta try screwin’ Tytus an’ I over, assumin’ she even cares about ya on any level beyond the strictly superficial. As a comedian, I know ya have more appreciation than most for the timin’ an’ delivery of a perfect punchline Allen, but last week Jennie upstaged ya yet again when, with a straight face she insisted that she never demanded a rematch for her precious World Championship.
How does it feel ta know the love of your life is a pathological liar, I wonder?
Ya may think your personal life has nothin’ ta do with our match, an’ maybe in the grand scheme of things, it really doesn’t, but if I ever found myself in a situation where all the signs pointed ta the fact that I can trust a random tag partner like Natasha ta have my back much more than I can trust the woman I intend ta marry soon, I’d have much bigger concerns than tryna force Verona’s hand inta signin’ on the dotted line, personally.
Speakin’ of trust issues, I know ya have yours Natasha, an’ who can blame ya after what Shea pulled at Immortals, an’ while I respect ya an’ know you’ll be itchin’ ta prove a point this week, by tryna finish what ya started when ya took me out of action at High Stakes, I really have ta wonder if ya can truly trust Allen ta have his head in straight after he was pinned last week. Somethin’ he’s not used ta, an’ not experienced in this company before.
You’re too fresh faced ta really get this yet, Natasha, but trust me, havin’ your dominance stifled when ya least expect it takes a toll, it does a number on ya mentally an’ can rock your confidence for weeks if not months, an’ with it bein’ so fresh in his mind, I doubt Allen will be as focused as ya need him ta be ta beat someone like me or my partner.
Think about it girl, if Verona can throw him off his game with the tease of a fancy pen, how much more is it really gonna take for an ambitious powerhouse like Tytus Rost ta get inta his head an’ break his spirit first an’ then his body?
Ya may have knocked me down months ago, Natasha, but I have risen again before your very eyes, an’ if ya continue ta doubt me, then ya shall bear witness as I rise further still this Tuesday. Ya may have used me to break through a glass pod at High Stakes, but I will not allow ya ta use me ta break through the glass ceilin’ on your young career.
Not yet, not on my time.
Natasha, Allen, watch me knock ‘em all dead.
A cruel punchline from an even crueler joke.
I couldn’t always laugh at myself, now I can’t stop laughin’.
With Her by my side, I’m always dyin’ of laughter.
Life’s funny that way, ain’t it?
Abigail raised the candle and extinguished the flame with her breath, the light from above also went out simultaneously, leaving six of the seven candles dimly burning in near darkness.
The beautiful sound of shared laughter over a cruel joke returned, and was once more applauded by a dozen hands as everything once again came full circle, as all things inevitably do.
“But they that will be rich fall into temptation and a snare, and into many foolish and hurtful lusts, which drown men in destruction and perdition.” - Timothy VI: 9.
=======
The first minute’s silence of the surrounding darkness was broken by the sweetest sound in the world, the utter joy and laughter of a loving couple, in complete synchronicity with each other.
The second minute’s howling was complemented by the sound of a dozen hands clapping.
The third minute returned abruptly to silence as Heaven’s light revealed The Archangel’s black and purple smoky wings, inked across each shoulder blade and framing the top of Abigail’s spine. The left wing tip was stained with blood. The entire art piece etched across pale skin was framed beautifully in a black bamboo backless dress, and her hair gathered up in a loose bun.
She sat on a wooden stool, with three candles on either side, each paired with a single white rose. Abigail looked over her left shoulder and smiled before she spun around on the stool to face forward. In her lap was a seventh candle, which she acknowledged with a bowed head and closed eyes for a full thirty seconds before she opened her eyes, took a deep breath. A rogue streak of forest green fell down the right side of her face, as she lifted her head and finally spoke.
Man Plans, and God Laughs.
God has always laughed at my best laid life plans, and I had very little idea what that truly felt like until last week. Last week was the first time in this tournament that I felt the true joy of bein’ back at work, maybe ‘cause I got ta utterly blow up the best laid plans of one of the most prolifically idolatrous blasphemers I’ve ever met in my life, first hand, Madjinn.
I may not have won, but I didn’t just roll over an’ die like he so desperately wanted an’ needed me ta. Last week, Savage Kingdom’s blatantly false narrative of havin’ no teams capable of matchin’ up ta ‘em was exposed for the second week in a row when once again they failed ta walk all over another makeshift tag team in this tournament.
Anyone can be a title holder, but not every title holder is a Champion, an’ Madjinn would do well ta learn that lesson in humility sooner rather than later, ‘cause if he don’t then I guarantee that Savage Kingdom’s gifted reign in the tag division is on borrowed time.
Whether they believe it or not, I have faith that Bella Morte’s time is comin’ a lot sooner than Savage Kingdom expects, an’ as fate would have it, this week I have been blessed with makin’ yet another case for our inevitable rise. Once more I have ta put my trust in Tytus ta watch my back against the only other team in this tournament so far who has managed ta prove just how costly Savage Kingdom’s unbridled arrogance can be.
Just like Tytus an’ I, the unlikely team of Natasha Walker an’ Allen Chaney kept Savage Kingdom at bay long enough for the fullness of time reveal the truth behind the lies as it always does, an’ as a natural born survivor myself, I have nothin’ but respect for that kinda tenacity.
After what I witnessed in the Iron Maiden a few months back, and what I witnessed at Immortals a few weeks ago, I have absolutely no doubt that for everythin’ that may divide them, the most dangerous quality as a team that unites Chaney an’ Walker is their mutual willingness ta throw everythin’ they have at their opposition whenever they step inta a wrestlin’ ring. Some would call such a never say die attitude reckless but I admire it.
Natasha threw everythin’ she had at me in the Maiden an’ left me the doctors pickin’ glass outta my ass for days afterwards, just as Allen left Tytus’ wantin’ when he won the Joker contract, so The Russian Lion an’ maself, we’re the ones with the most ta prove here.
I’m sure it tickled Verona pink ta pair me up in the Group of Death, but ya know what tickles me even pinker, it’s the fact that whilst Chaney’s fiancée was doin’ her little shadow GM thing she didn’t have enough foresight ta ensure that the contract her man won was actually signed, or at the very least try ta warn him that it wasn’t.
Almost as if Jennie Fenix only really cares about herself, an’ I have ta wonder Allen if you know that an’ that is part of the reason you tried stallin’ her on a weddin’ date for as long as ya did before she basically forced your hand an’ announced when ya were gettin’ married ta the world at the biggest show of the year, durin’ your entrance.
I don’t know about ya, but I’m glad our match is on Odyssey this week, where your fiancée has no power or influence ta try screwin’ Tytus an’ I over, assumin’ she even cares about ya on any level beyond the strictly superficial. As a comedian, I know ya have more appreciation than most for the timin’ an’ delivery of a perfect punchline Allen, but last week Jennie upstaged ya yet again when, with a straight face she insisted that she never demanded a rematch for her precious World Championship.
How does it feel ta know the love of your life is a pathological liar, I wonder?
Ya may think your personal life has nothin’ ta do with our match, an’ maybe in the grand scheme of things, it really doesn’t, but if I ever found myself in a situation where all the signs pointed ta the fact that I can trust a random tag partner like Natasha ta have my back much more than I can trust the woman I intend ta marry soon, I’d have much bigger concerns than tryna force Verona’s hand inta signin’ on the dotted line, personally.
Speakin’ of trust issues, I know ya have yours Natasha, an’ who can blame ya after what Shea pulled at Immortals, an’ while I respect ya an’ know you’ll be itchin’ ta prove a point this week, by tryna finish what ya started when ya took me out of action at High Stakes, I really have ta wonder if ya can truly trust Allen ta have his head in straight after he was pinned last week. Somethin’ he’s not used ta, an’ not experienced in this company before.
You’re too fresh faced ta really get this yet, Natasha, but trust me, havin’ your dominance stifled when ya least expect it takes a toll, it does a number on ya mentally an’ can rock your confidence for weeks if not months, an’ with it bein’ so fresh in his mind, I doubt Allen will be as focused as ya need him ta be ta beat someone like me or my partner.
Think about it girl, if Verona can throw him off his game with the tease of a fancy pen, how much more is it really gonna take for an ambitious powerhouse like Tytus Rost ta get inta his head an’ break his spirit first an’ then his body?
Ya may have knocked me down months ago, Natasha, but I have risen again before your very eyes, an’ if ya continue ta doubt me, then ya shall bear witness as I rise further still this Tuesday. Ya may have used me to break through a glass pod at High Stakes, but I will not allow ya ta use me ta break through the glass ceilin’ on your young career.
Not yet, not on my time.
Natasha, Allen, watch me knock ‘em all dead.
A cruel punchline from an even crueler joke.
I couldn’t always laugh at myself, now I can’t stop laughin’.
With Her by my side, I’m always dyin’ of laughter.
Life’s funny that way, ain’t it?
Abigail raised the candle and extinguished the flame with her breath, the light from above also went out simultaneously, leaving six of the seven candles dimly burning in near darkness.
The beautiful sound of shared laughter over a cruel joke returned, and was once more applauded by a dozen hands as everything once again came full circle, as all things inevitably do.
Well howdy there pardner.