Post by Vladimir Strife on Aug 21, 2013 5:47:27 GMT -4
As he stares up at the blinding white lights, the blurry world of the GodKing shifts and shakes, the muffled and far away cry foreign to the Romanian. For the second time in a row, the Barbarian Lord found himself broken and pummeled against the cold canvas. He begins to wonder if this is what is to become of his legacy. Would his time in this business be remembered as the lustrous career of a dominating and near-unstoppable force or a lusterless and fleeting craze - a hysteria that none could quite remember the big deal over? Would he be this business's Casablanca or an old horror movie, long since grown incapable of inspiring fear into even the most timid of souls?
Somewhere off in the distance, he can only just make out the "TWO!" that cuts through the static of the cheers and jeers. Vlad instinctively lifts his shoulder, pushing the Wandering Samurai off of him. It was perhaps so that his influence and infamy would yield to time, but that time was not at hand. The shocked Rurouni takes him by the hair and brings him up to his knees, leaving the blood soaked Titan there as he looks over him, wondering what more he must subject him to in order to become the fourth member of the industry's most exclusive club. He would become one of EVPW's biggest stars over night if he could just finish the job at this point. The glossy eyes of the Bambi Killer appeared devoid of thought and will. Strife leans his head back, looking up the fuzzy form before him. A thought hits his mind - the words of a rookie: "you are nothing more than a broken, wretched shell of what you claim to be."
Wrath and rage takes over the Behemoth once more and he sees red, an unquenchable thirst for devastation in his soul. Vladimir darts forth, a loud grunt escaping him in a war cry, shoving his head between the thighs of the Asian Sensation and grabbing his calves. He rises, uprooting the enemy and leaving him dangling upside down. He snaps forth, whipping Rurouni by his legs and sending him crashing against the mat on his back. A hearty thud rings out from the impact and the dazed Kobashi now gets his turn to examine the arena lighting.
"Holy christ! Alabama Slam! And Rurouni hit especially hard! He may have a concussion!"
"A concussion is the least of either of their problems... "
As he looks down at the aching mass that is left of his opponent, an idea strikes the Titan's mind. With no hesitation, he takes Rurouni by the back of the head and leads him up to his feet. Once upright, the Wandering Samurai finds himself ejects through the ring between the ropes, slapping down against the mats unceremoniously. Vladimir quickly joins him outside of the squared circle and coaxes him up yet again. A sharp knee to the gut keeps him compliant as the Barbarian Lord begins to walk with him back toward the lockerrooms. They arrive at the top of the entrance ramp before Kobashi realizes where he is. He throws a sharp elbow into the stomach of the Czar, but a ball of knuckles lashes out in response, hushing his defiance and causing him to drop down to one knee. Footsteps trail off behind him as he tries to shake the cobwebs out and compose himself once more.
Down at the ringside, Vladimir flips up the apron to the ring, purposely reaching into the underbelly and taking hold of the top of a ladder, dragging it out and behind him as he heads back toward the stage, rather certain he has left something there. As he nears, the Samurai returns to his full height and turns around, and the Behemoth nonchalantly drives a boot into his solar plexus, doubling him over. Strife pulls up the ladder and opens it, pushing down the supports to make it's use safer. The Monarch of Madness pushes it up against the steel structuring that frames the bottom of the Butchertron and looks up to it with satisfaction. He turns to RKK and grabs him by the nape of his neck, shoving him toward the aluminum ladder and his face in particular into one of the rungs.
"...Climb."
The stunned Samurai gives no reaction to this demand and his attacker drives his face against the metal once more before repeating his request. Somewhere between the head trauma and the blood loss, the Wandering Warrior is to weak to protest and begins to ascend one step after another. At the top, he meekly stammers onto the beam, nearly stumbling off in what would have been one doozy of a first step. He presses himself against the screen, the near fall snapping him out of his daze and gets himself turned around, looking for a way down. What he finds instead is the sadistic smile of the Titan, who plants the wing of his boot into the Sickle Master's crotch. He lurches forth in searing agony and the GodKing lowers to meet him.
"Hope you don't mind... I thought we'd take a little trip down memory lane."
Before he can respond or fully process what his old rival is talking about, Rurouni finds himself pulled forth, his cranium placed between the thighs of the GodKing. Much as he had over six and a half years ago, then both just rookies with less than a dozen matches under their belts combined, Vladimir wraps his arms around the midsection of the Samurai and hoists him up, flipping him forth to come to sit on the Titan's shoulders. He turns and drops over the edge of the scaffolding, bringing his legs and RKK both horizontal as they plummet ten feet to the steel grating stage below. Their bodies pound against the metal with a horrendous clatter heard around the stadium.
"HOOOOLLLLYYY SHIT!! Powerbomb from the titantron!"
"YES! YES! YES!!"
Although his tailbone screams with pain, the GodKing ignores it and simples places a hand onto the chest of his opponent, who is as thoroughly unconscious as a man can get shy of a coma. The referee comes running up the ramp, though it seems he had all the time in the world to get there, and makes the match official.
"1! ...2! ...3!"
As Vladimir rises up to his feet, he decides to have a bit more of a taste of days past as he grabs the referee by the hair and slings him over the side of the stage, down to the concrete below. As his music starts to play again, the legend quietly heads back to his office, leading the carnage in his wake.
~End~
Somewhere off in the distance, he can only just make out the "TWO!" that cuts through the static of the cheers and jeers. Vlad instinctively lifts his shoulder, pushing the Wandering Samurai off of him. It was perhaps so that his influence and infamy would yield to time, but that time was not at hand. The shocked Rurouni takes him by the hair and brings him up to his knees, leaving the blood soaked Titan there as he looks over him, wondering what more he must subject him to in order to become the fourth member of the industry's most exclusive club. He would become one of EVPW's biggest stars over night if he could just finish the job at this point. The glossy eyes of the Bambi Killer appeared devoid of thought and will. Strife leans his head back, looking up the fuzzy form before him. A thought hits his mind - the words of a rookie: "you are nothing more than a broken, wretched shell of what you claim to be."
Wrath and rage takes over the Behemoth once more and he sees red, an unquenchable thirst for devastation in his soul. Vladimir darts forth, a loud grunt escaping him in a war cry, shoving his head between the thighs of the Asian Sensation and grabbing his calves. He rises, uprooting the enemy and leaving him dangling upside down. He snaps forth, whipping Rurouni by his legs and sending him crashing against the mat on his back. A hearty thud rings out from the impact and the dazed Kobashi now gets his turn to examine the arena lighting.
"Holy christ! Alabama Slam! And Rurouni hit especially hard! He may have a concussion!"
"A concussion is the least of either of their problems... "
As he looks down at the aching mass that is left of his opponent, an idea strikes the Titan's mind. With no hesitation, he takes Rurouni by the back of the head and leads him up to his feet. Once upright, the Wandering Samurai finds himself ejects through the ring between the ropes, slapping down against the mats unceremoniously. Vladimir quickly joins him outside of the squared circle and coaxes him up yet again. A sharp knee to the gut keeps him compliant as the Barbarian Lord begins to walk with him back toward the lockerrooms. They arrive at the top of the entrance ramp before Kobashi realizes where he is. He throws a sharp elbow into the stomach of the Czar, but a ball of knuckles lashes out in response, hushing his defiance and causing him to drop down to one knee. Footsteps trail off behind him as he tries to shake the cobwebs out and compose himself once more.
Down at the ringside, Vladimir flips up the apron to the ring, purposely reaching into the underbelly and taking hold of the top of a ladder, dragging it out and behind him as he heads back toward the stage, rather certain he has left something there. As he nears, the Samurai returns to his full height and turns around, and the Behemoth nonchalantly drives a boot into his solar plexus, doubling him over. Strife pulls up the ladder and opens it, pushing down the supports to make it's use safer. The Monarch of Madness pushes it up against the steel structuring that frames the bottom of the Butchertron and looks up to it with satisfaction. He turns to RKK and grabs him by the nape of his neck, shoving him toward the aluminum ladder and his face in particular into one of the rungs.
"...Climb."
The stunned Samurai gives no reaction to this demand and his attacker drives his face against the metal once more before repeating his request. Somewhere between the head trauma and the blood loss, the Wandering Warrior is to weak to protest and begins to ascend one step after another. At the top, he meekly stammers onto the beam, nearly stumbling off in what would have been one doozy of a first step. He presses himself against the screen, the near fall snapping him out of his daze and gets himself turned around, looking for a way down. What he finds instead is the sadistic smile of the Titan, who plants the wing of his boot into the Sickle Master's crotch. He lurches forth in searing agony and the GodKing lowers to meet him.
"Hope you don't mind... I thought we'd take a little trip down memory lane."
Before he can respond or fully process what his old rival is talking about, Rurouni finds himself pulled forth, his cranium placed between the thighs of the GodKing. Much as he had over six and a half years ago, then both just rookies with less than a dozen matches under their belts combined, Vladimir wraps his arms around the midsection of the Samurai and hoists him up, flipping him forth to come to sit on the Titan's shoulders. He turns and drops over the edge of the scaffolding, bringing his legs and RKK both horizontal as they plummet ten feet to the steel grating stage below. Their bodies pound against the metal with a horrendous clatter heard around the stadium.
"HOOOOLLLLYYY SHIT!! Powerbomb from the titantron!"
"YES! YES! YES!!"
Although his tailbone screams with pain, the GodKing ignores it and simples places a hand onto the chest of his opponent, who is as thoroughly unconscious as a man can get shy of a coma. The referee comes running up the ramp, though it seems he had all the time in the world to get there, and makes the match official.
"1! ...2! ...3!"
As Vladimir rises up to his feet, he decides to have a bit more of a taste of days past as he grabs the referee by the hair and slings him over the side of the stage, down to the concrete below. As his music starts to play again, the legend quietly heads back to his office, leading the carnage in his wake.
~End~
