Post by Sam "The Titaness" Hamilton on Apr 26, 2018 2:46:55 GMT -8
26th April, 2018
14:16 PM
Los Angeles, California
Exact Location: Walking along the Hollywood Walk of Fame
"Surprised to see me again? If it helps, I'm as taken aback as anyone here. Maybe more so. I certainly didn't expect Mr. Roerich to contact me and ask me to return. And I'd be lying to say I almost rejected him on the spot. So what changed my mind?"
The camera finally adjusts, showing Samantha wearing an exasperated, irked looked.
"Hearing the Dogs of War were still a thing. Really? Really? Why? I mean ... I've seen you've been spreading your little group of sorts around to other feds. So what's the point in remaining here?"
Sam scoffs, rolling her eyes slightly.
"I would say forgive my attitude, but I don't really want it anyway. Holy hell though, if you had to come up with some sorta faction, at least be more creative. Dogs of War has been used before in several other media sources, fandoms, whatever you wanna call them. For holding the Pride Championship Belt, you don't seem to have much pride with your petty little gang, Storm."
Samantha smirks, finally making a gesture towards her recorder - Joseph Hunter - to move aside so they don't risk bumping into anyone walking along the starred pavement whilst filming this promo.
"Lemme quickly back up by admitting here and now -- I have no idea what possessed me to leave. Nor can I begin to say it was one of my prouder moments. Quite the opposite, in fact. But, during the past few months I was gone, never once have I ceased fighting. In fact, I expanded, branched out to some other new feds. I'm about to make a debut with another organization come May. That's how devoted I am to this sport - I bleed, I work out, I sweat, I do any and everything to improve and better myself. I've actually won some belts due to the progress I've made."
The Titaness offers a casual shrug.
"But I digress, nor do I expect either Mark nor Broseph --- "
Sam makes a disgusted face upon forcing herself to utter her second competitor's name.
"To care. And that's fine. The feeling's mutual. Whatever all has gone on here since I've left ... I'm not gonna go on and on about it. I will quickly say, however, I was a tad - okay, very - shocked to see Sammy leave. With how determined he was to go toe-to-toe with Storm and knock him down several pegs, I never would have guessed he'd leave."
Samantha shrugs again, quickly waving her hand through the air. A few seconds later, the Titaness hastily snaps her fingers, realizing she almost forgot something.
"One last thing - for real - and this is for Melody. Rest assured, I'll give you the match you should have had against me. Worse than me quitting and leaving here was abandoning our fight. Suffice to say, I haven't forgotten, and I certainly intend to make up for it when I can. You have my word about that.
"With those mini-speeches out of the way, you two now have my full, undivided attention. Since I have a lot more to relay to our sore loser of a champion, you're first, Broseph."
The Titaness tilts her head, half-smirking and half-grimacing.
"I get each person has their own preferences and all but ... really? Where the hell did Broseph come from? Sounds like you wanna be a rapper more than a wrestler which - if that's the case - go for it. But ummm ... you're in the wrong industry, dude.
"Jokes aside though, I do briefly remember you somehow affiliated yourselves with these lame 'Bitches Of War'. Yeah, I agreed fully with Sammy on that nickname. Don't like? Too bad. I'm not overly fond of the fact they're still a thing here. Anyway, since you fit the 'guilty by association' category, expect me to come at you with even more strength than I would against a non-canine fighter of this federation."
Samantha pauses, taking a moment to roll her shoulders, causing a few pops to echo from her spine. She then reaches down and produces a water bottle. After removing the cap and downing some of the cool liquid, The Titaness looks right back at the camera lens. Her normally stoic expression seems to intensify. Daggers - proverbially, of course - mingle in with fire in her hazel orbs as she begins addressing the current champion.
"This thus brings me to you, Mark. Who do you think you are, hmm? And what I mean by that ... is simple. You claim to be so good that no one is worth your time?"
Sam shakes her head.
"I hate to break it to ya, but it doesn't work that way. Least of all in this industry. You are so eerily alike the former Heavyweight Champion in HcW. And because of how alike you two are ... I'm going to have fun beating the hell out of you. Both you and Broseph, mind you, but I'll likely have more entertainment against you, Storm.
"And in case you're wondering, no. I have no intentions of taking my words back. You don't deserve that belt -- not while possessing that mindset, anyway. I will agree and acknowledge that physically, you have earned it, evidenced by the fact you still possess the Pride Championship. But you don't carry nor wear it like your own nickname or catchphrase implies; a hero. Do you even know what a real hero is, Mark Storm?"
The Titaness pulls her phone out, performs a quick search on her internet via WiFi and begins reading aloud a list of names.
"Harrison Ford, Judy Garland, Lucille Ball, Alec Baldwin, Ray Charles, Fleetwood Mac, Elton John, and Samuel L. Jackson. These are but a small handful of the twenty-six hundred plus names who have earned a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. They are considered heroes. Some have even portrayed what could be defined as heroes for their characters. And that example, Storm, is just by using Hollywood alone. If I used history, I could list a good dozen - maybe two to three more - off the top of my head."
Sam's smirk widens as she shakes her head.
"Don't worry. I'm not gonna, because I'm pretty sure I've made my point. You, Mark Storm, are anything but a true hero. Well ... lemme reword that. You're not my hero, nor will you ever be. May wanna change your end phrase to adjust that reflection, because I'm rather confident I'm not the only person - be it here or anywhere else you also fight - that feels the same about you.
"Of course ... that's just my advice. Take it as you will. I care not. No. Now that I'm back, I'm going to do what I should have rather than leave; clean house. You and your Bitches of War need to disband. Just be your damn selves. Or is that the problem? Are you too afraid, too ashamed to simply be yourself? Is that where the need to create your faction came from?
"If that's the case .... then you truly don't deserve that belt. True champions don't use henchmen to watch their backs. They fight their own battles, not intervene with other people's. I haven't forgotten what your bastards did to Stacy Sterling."
Sam's eyes further narrow, the camera showing her fists clenching visibly.
"The hell was that for, huh? Just because you could take the easy, cowardly way out? You ruined my match. And so, I'm going to return the favor - and not just with your stupid group. I'm going to extend it to your career and life here in CWD - I still view it was GWD, though. Global has a better ring to it than restricting the entire fed to simply California.
"I may not be a perfect saint myself. That's fine though. I even confessed to Stacy in my promo I never claimed to be one. I'm more akin to a vigilante. Only fitting, really; they are the best at taking out heroes and villains, fake or otherwise. I'm not a liar, nor a hypocrite like you are, Storm."
Sam chortles softly, finally standing up and getting to her feet.
"I'll see you two soon. Get ready for the fight of your lives - you especially, Mark. You thought the ambush was bad enough? Going against me face-to-face will be much, much worse. Ask Broseph; he knows I can do some serious damage. I was one of the primary reasons he couldn't continue in the six man battle royal, after all."
Samantha offers the camera one last smirk and wave before pivoting and moving in with the crowd. As the people disperse, she's nowhere to be soon. Seconds later, the camera shuts off, causing the scene to disappear into darkness.
