Post by Ryu Yoshikazu on Apr 1, 2012 1:01:57 GMT -4
The segment opens up to the remnants of an antediluvian gym. The arena is illuminated by a single, monotone shade of light, cast by the glass panes of the ceiling lights. Dangling from the aforementioned ceiling is an antiquated heavy-bag, held together by duct tape and hanging from a rusted chain. On the wall is a busted speed bag, having been beaten into obsoletism. Large wall mirrors, likely used for shadowboxing, stand cracked, with chipped steel frames, further augmenting the deterioration of the facility. In the center is an archaic ring, too old to be fashionable, and so outmoded that one side has collapsed completely, and the other teeters on succumbing to the same predicament. A few steel chairs lay strewn across the damaged hardwood floor, where the paint has visibly faded overtime. Others are carelessly stacked across the locale capture the desolation and abandonment of the venue. The camera gradually transitions to the right, where Ryu Yoshikazu is seen on the floor, finishing a hindu pushup.
The soft guitar strumming commencing Lateralus by Tool plays lowly in the background, meanwhile Ryu slowly rises to his feet. The Japanese born star lifts his head to the high, staring up at the ceiling in both exhaustion and reflection. He is dawning his black wrestling boots, white tights, with the design of a red dragon going down the right leg, and "RYU" written on the left, white wrist tape on both wrists, and finally the camera sweeps around to reveal the "Japanese Flag" on the back of his track jacket. Ryu finally lowers his head, before slowly plodding toward the decrepit ring and entering. He makes his way into the center, and quickly drops to his knees. His eyes suddenly wire shut, his palms are pressed onto the canvas, before in one fluid motion, shifting his body weight, swinging himself into the air. His body is held straight, with his arms and legs fully extended, with his shoulder length apart. After a brief moment of balancing, and display of upper-body strength, Yoshikazu removes his right hand, placing it on his side, remaining upright, upside down, and balanced on his left. As he remains in his position, his mouth opens, murmuring the words "NEVER GIVE UP..." An ambiguous smile lies on his Asian mug.
The trip in time ends, the brief flashback comes to a conclusion as Ryu's brilliant one arm handstand ends. He transitions to sitting Indian Style, folding his legs toward his body and crossing them across his ankles. From there his hands protrude, facing both his palms toward his body. He interlocks his fingers together in a clasping position and lifts both thumbs up, slightly crossing the tips. He point the two pinkie fingers down, creating a triangle shape. He inhales, his hands un-clasp, before he takes his left to hold his first two fingers on his right. His remaining fingers are folded down. He exhales, before performing a third gesture. This time his hands are pressed together, as if clapping. His two pinkie and ring fingers are interlocked and folded down, while the remaining digits are pointed upwards. In a low, distinct tone, he mutters "NEVER SURRENDER..." The subtle smirk remains fixated on his mug.
The second flashback fades, as Ryu's head is tilted down, his hands are held out in front of him, with his elbows and both palms up. His fingers are pushed together, leaning his backhands on one another, and pointing his fingertips up. His fingers are then folded down, with the tips touching his palms, whilst his wrists are brought together and his knuckles and thumbs are down. He presses tightly, causing his body to tremble slightly, showing the intensity of the gesture. Having held his breath for long enough, he exhales, before speaking again, this time his words much more audible..."Failure is unacceptable..."
The flashback of his most recognizable EVPW victory against Bryan Hawk at Madhouse fades away. By this time the equivocal smile has vanished, now replaced with an austere expression. Yoshikazu climbs to his feet, slowly exiting the ring before making his way to the heavybag. He begins pummeling the said workout bag, the impaired piece of equipment crumbling at his might, meanwhile the rusted chain trembles, dust cascading from the ceiling. The brief display of intense, mighty, rapid punches come to sudden halt, as he looks at the camera...
"Victory At All Costs..."
Kazu assaults the bag with one final punch; it quakes violently as he turns away, and makes his way up the aisle. The hood on his track jacket is now placed on, enclosing his head and brownish black hair, dripping with sweat. He faces the exit, large wooden doors constructed of hardwork, fond memories and silver streaks where the paint has peeled. He places both hands on it, and lowers his head, taking one more breath, a deep one this time. He then thrusts forward, meanwhile the chain on the heavybag abruptly snaps. It drops from the ceiling and crashes onto the hardwood floor, as the song comes to an end. The door shuts with a resounding thud, as the feed turns to black...
End of Thread
The soft guitar strumming commencing Lateralus by Tool plays lowly in the background, meanwhile Ryu slowly rises to his feet. The Japanese born star lifts his head to the high, staring up at the ceiling in both exhaustion and reflection. He is dawning his black wrestling boots, white tights, with the design of a red dragon going down the right leg, and "RYU" written on the left, white wrist tape on both wrists, and finally the camera sweeps around to reveal the "Japanese Flag" on the back of his track jacket. Ryu finally lowers his head, before slowly plodding toward the decrepit ring and entering. He makes his way into the center, and quickly drops to his knees. His eyes suddenly wire shut, his palms are pressed onto the canvas, before in one fluid motion, shifting his body weight, swinging himself into the air. His body is held straight, with his arms and legs fully extended, with his shoulder length apart. After a brief moment of balancing, and display of upper-body strength, Yoshikazu removes his right hand, placing it on his side, remaining upright, upside down, and balanced on his left. As he remains in his position, his mouth opens, murmuring the words "NEVER GIVE UP..." An ambiguous smile lies on his Asian mug.
Hawk smiles boastfully as he spreads his arms to his side, looking down upon his fallen opponent, as he towers over him, despite only standing on his knees. Despite the moment wasted, Bryan covers his foe for the pin. Its a quick one-two before the shoulder of Yoshikazu goes up. Hawk isn't too disappointed by the result, having half expected his opponent to get the shoulder up. It wasn't about winning this match as quick as possible any more. Hawk had found a worthy opponent and this match suddenly became a whole lot of fun for the American. Hawk stared at the crowd for a brief moment as he remained kneeling besides the downed Ryu but got to his feet before the Asian could do so, taking him by the black of his hair. Pulling on the roots, Hawk had him back to his feet but not at his own will. He was now at Hawk's mercy.
Bryan lifted his knee high enough to reach the ribs of his opponent who was forced low enough to greet them. With the knee-chest meeting over and the opponent hurt, Hawk threw him head first into the turnbuckle. Ryu ricocheted off and back into Hawk's clutches who had immediately position himself for the waist lock. The catch and drop was immaculately executed with one-swift movement that saw the Asian heaved off the ground and back to the mat with a belly-to-belly suplex. Hawk once again tested his opponent's resolve with a pin-fall, much quicker than the previous one but the result was the same. Ryu got the shoulder up as soon as the referee brought his hand down for the second time. Hawk remained on his knees again for a moment, this time a little annoyed but not too fussed. He was still in control of this match and if it carried going as it was, he would thoroughly enjoy himself.
"And Ryu kicks out once again. This is Hawk's third attempt that Ryu has fought out of."
"I'm already a fan of this guy. The determination and willpower is amazing. This guy is the real deal."
Bryan lifted his knee high enough to reach the ribs of his opponent who was forced low enough to greet them. With the knee-chest meeting over and the opponent hurt, Hawk threw him head first into the turnbuckle. Ryu ricocheted off and back into Hawk's clutches who had immediately position himself for the waist lock. The catch and drop was immaculately executed with one-swift movement that saw the Asian heaved off the ground and back to the mat with a belly-to-belly suplex. Hawk once again tested his opponent's resolve with a pin-fall, much quicker than the previous one but the result was the same. Ryu got the shoulder up as soon as the referee brought his hand down for the second time. Hawk remained on his knees again for a moment, this time a little annoyed but not too fussed. He was still in control of this match and if it carried going as it was, he would thoroughly enjoy himself.
"And Ryu kicks out once again. This is Hawk's third attempt that Ryu has fought out of."
"I'm already a fan of this guy. The determination and willpower is amazing. This guy is the real deal."
The trip in time ends, the brief flashback comes to a conclusion as Ryu's brilliant one arm handstand ends. He transitions to sitting Indian Style, folding his legs toward his body and crossing them across his ankles. From there his hands protrude, facing both his palms toward his body. He interlocks his fingers together in a clasping position and lifts both thumbs up, slightly crossing the tips. He point the two pinkie fingers down, creating a triangle shape. He inhales, his hands un-clasp, before he takes his left to hold his first two fingers on his right. His remaining fingers are folded down. He exhales, before performing a third gesture. This time his hands are pressed together, as if clapping. His two pinkie and ring fingers are interlocked and folded down, while the remaining digits are pointed upwards. In a low, distinct tone, he mutters "NEVER SURRENDER..." The subtle smirk remains fixated on his mug.
Yoshikazu turns down the pinfall attempt, instead climbing to his feet. He winces slightly, the suplex thrice having taking a toll on him as well. He sneers down on Hawk's lifeless body, before staring out into the crowd, the audience on its feet in appreciation for the epic battle. His attention suddenly diverts to the corner, and his next plan of attack becomes clear, quickly exiting the ring and stepping onto the apron. He begins a fatigued truck along the apron, plodding heavily before making his way to the turnbuckle, slowly beginning to ascend it. His long drawn out mannerisms, and methodical approach gives Hawk a reprieve, as the winded superstar rolls onto all fours. He stirs to his feet, rotating his head from side to side in an effort to shake the cobwebs. The New Yorker looks up at the top rope, locking his eyes on Ryu who is perched at like a bird looking to swoop down on his unsuspecting prey. Bryan will have none of that however, quickly charging at the corner and jumping onto the second rope, simultaneously swinging his forearm and clocking his foe in the temple. Having created a window of opportunity, Hawk tosses Yoshikazu's arm over his shoulder, and captures his head in his armpit. With the front facelock applied, The Brooklyn Hammer coerces his momentum in reverse, falling from the top rope, whilst dragging Ryu off the mountain's summit and pulling him forward. Both men pancake to the canvas with a resounding thud, landing supinely, their body slightly bouncing off the canvas in wake of the thunderous impact of their flesh and bones impinging on the mat. Almost instinctively, Hawk rolls over, limply draping his arm across Yoshi's chest, prompting the referee to make the count.
"ONE"
"TWO"
Much to Bryan's chagrin, the wrestling clinic would continue, as Ryu contorts his body and rolls a shoulder over in time to break the pinfall.
"That Superplex should have sealed it! This guy just won't die. Dammit throw in the towel!"
"But he won't. It's not in his blood, not in his heritage. He'll fight until he can no longer breath Ray."
"Or until Hawk drops the atom bomb, and blows him up just like we did his ancestors!"
"That was very unethical!"
"ONE"
"TWO"
Much to Bryan's chagrin, the wrestling clinic would continue, as Ryu contorts his body and rolls a shoulder over in time to break the pinfall.
"That Superplex should have sealed it! This guy just won't die. Dammit throw in the towel!"
"But he won't. It's not in his blood, not in his heritage. He'll fight until he can no longer breath Ray."
"Or until Hawk drops the atom bomb, and blows him up just like we did his ancestors!"
"That was very unethical!"
The second flashback fades, as Ryu's head is tilted down, his hands are held out in front of him, with his elbows and both palms up. His fingers are pushed together, leaning his backhands on one another, and pointing his fingertips up. His fingers are then folded down, with the tips touching his palms, whilst his wrists are brought together and his knuckles and thumbs are down. He presses tightly, causing his body to tremble slightly, showing the intensity of the gesture. Having held his breath for long enough, he exhales, before speaking again, this time his words much more audible..."Failure is unacceptable..."
Bryan slowly climbs to his feet, the referee holds two fingers up in hopes of preventing any discrepancy from unfolding. The New Yorker doesn't argue with the official over the cadence of the count, instead he turns his attention to his adversary. As Ryu begins to recuperate, Hawk outstretches his arms, commencing to drop the swiftly, only to bring them back up to their beginning level. He repeats his gesture, mimicking the mannerisms of a bird in flight, flapping his wings so to speak, signaling to the crowd that the end was near. Yoshikazu was oblivious to his foe's silent deceleration, as he staggers to his feet, his body still aching from the collision moments ago. He turns into a protruding boot, his midsection quickly stricken with pain as the kick forces him to double over. Hawk executes a standing headscissors, before underooking one of Ryu's arms. Instead of underhooking the second he stands there, looking into the crowd, grinning smugly, his free arm being thrown into the air as if to silence the crowd as they support the fan favorite Cruiserweight. Hawk's posturing prompts his own plight, as Yoshikazu spins out of the transition hold, evasively maneuver to his foe's side before stepping over Bryan's arm. In the blink of an eye he twists his body in midair, and with Hawk's wrist still in possessions, forces the Company's hired gun to a supine position. With his legs scissoring the Predator's arm, the "Asian Persuasion" bends his foe's wrist upward, dangerously hyperextending his shoulder and elbow, sending the crowd into a frenzy as Hawk yelps in pain. His feet frantically slap against the mat, as Ryu bares his teeth and squints his eyes, his intent clear, looking to force his adversary into submission or sideline him with an injury.
"He's looking to break Hawk's wing. That Cross Armbreaker is locked in tight!"
"He can't fly with one arm Jimmy. What's he gonna do?"
"The only two things he can do; tap out or escape!"
"I hate ultimatums!"
"He's looking to break Hawk's wing. That Cross Armbreaker is locked in tight!"
"He can't fly with one arm Jimmy. What's he gonna do?"
"The only two things he can do; tap out or escape!"
"I hate ultimatums!"
The flashback of his most recognizable EVPW victory against Bryan Hawk at Madhouse fades away. By this time the equivocal smile has vanished, now replaced with an austere expression. Yoshikazu climbs to his feet, slowly exiting the ring before making his way to the heavybag. He begins pummeling the said workout bag, the impaired piece of equipment crumbling at his might, meanwhile the rusted chain trembles, dust cascading from the ceiling. The brief display of intense, mighty, rapid punches come to sudden halt, as he looks at the camera...
"Victory At All Costs..."
Kazu assaults the bag with one final punch; it quakes violently as he turns away, and makes his way up the aisle. The hood on his track jacket is now placed on, enclosing his head and brownish black hair, dripping with sweat. He faces the exit, large wooden doors constructed of hardwork, fond memories and silver streaks where the paint has peeled. He places both hands on it, and lowers his head, taking one more breath, a deep one this time. He then thrusts forward, meanwhile the chain on the heavybag abruptly snaps. It drops from the ceiling and crashes onto the hardwood floor, as the song comes to an end. The door shuts with a resounding thud, as the feed turns to black...
End of Thread
