Post by Mark Storm on Jan 4, 2018 12:23:19 GMT -8
"We are at the tippy top, Chris. But that's how it's supposed to be. That's the only way it can be."
Clinging to the thought of anonymity was no longer a possibility. Because now, Mark Storm had cemented his legacy as a household name. And through that, came global exposure that the ordinary professional wrestler wouldn't know how to handle. He was no longer a professional among his peers but in his eyes, he was a God within the industry - a name that had come from nowhere, if a cocoon.
And over time that cocoon grew and grew until the day came he was ready to leave the mundane habitat he had become accustomed to and spread his wings. That day had come. He was now reaching the peak of his career and he could feel it in his bones. In his heart, in every breath he took of a every second, of every day. There was a change in the tide and he was sure only he could feel it.
"They're calling this, Heroes and Monsters. But not me. That's not what I'm calling it. I'm sure that's what they want me to call it. Because you've been my perfect villain for so long, Chris, it's almost like a story fitting for a fairy-tale.
Ever since our days back over in SKYFIRE Wrestling, we've been at each others throats, fighting for that top spot - fighting for that championship belt that everybody wanted to get their hands on, but only we delivered. You are my villain. You are, my monster. But this match, it's surpassed the title we've been given. I am no longer just a hero in this story, but I am a GOD. This is a monster, against a GOD!"
Venomous with his speech, he came to a halt.
His newly prized possession buckled around his waist and the camera fixated on it for a moment, his name carved in Gold and championship belt glistening itself. This was, his most valuable possession to date. To become the first ever champion in a promotion was a big deal, it mean't more to him than anyone could possibly imagine.
It mean't that his name had been etched into the history books of Global Wrestling Division. It mean't that when critics and fans talked about the promotion, the first name they recognized with it was that of his own - Mark Storm, the first ever American Justice Champion.
Behind him was a poster, his name on it with an image of himself after just winning the American Justice title at Out For Justice II. He stood in front of his crowning moment and he half turned his body to look at it, reaching out for it and placing a hand on the poster - closing his eyes to allow himself to relive those moments in glory, those moments that he could now never forget.
"I told you all, every single damn one of you that I was going to be heralded as the first ever American Justice champion. Some of you believed me. But a lot of you, didn't. You were naive. Naive to believe that Chris Crippler is still capable of keeping up with the likes of me. Crippler is a proven champion, yes. You look at his resume, and you gasp in awe at what he's managed to accomplish over his career.
It's a stellar one, a one that rookies and veterans admire, and wrestling critics constantly write about. Hell, he damn near enough carried SKYFIRE Wrestling on his own two shoulders for quite a while. BUT, that was before I arrived. That's the thing Chris, despite all your accomplishments, all your accolades and famous wins and everything you've ever done inside that four sided ring, there's one thing you're incapable of doing. Beating, me.
That's a fact Chris and we both know it to be true. You couldn't get it done the first time of asking. I put you down after everyone else who came before me, tried - so vigorously but failed, so miserably. You couldn't get it down after our second meeting, which was supposed to be your redemption - retribution for the humiliation of me, dethroning you from the top of the food-chain. You couldn't get it done and soon after, you bowed out - became another name, that was once so formidable, but had faded to the shadows.
And then here Chris, here - you couldn't beat me, and people will say well look at the circumstances, there were two other guys in the match, it's unfair to count that match as part of the trilogy. But you were in that ring Chris. You were in the same match as I was. You were in touching distance of getting your hands on my American Justice title. BUT STILL, you couldn't get it done! Why? Why can't you beat me? It's as simple as this Chris:
I, am better, than you.
And I'm not going to use the old age book. We all know your ancient but that's not the reason why I'm better than you. You've already proven that age really doesn't matter because you schooled Anders and Compact. I'm better than you, because I'm hungrier than you. Because I want this more than you. Because whilst you've already cemented your legacy in the archives of this game, I'm still writing mine! I'm yet to reach my peak! You've surpassed yours and you've got complacent! Why? Because what else can you do? Sure, you can sign for a new promotion and help rise it's status and bring in an audience from all over the world... but that's good enough for you.
You don't care about being the ambassador, despite your claims of doing so - if you did care, you would've beaten me. Same now, and it was the same in SKYFIRE. You were already at the top. You had already won the Honor title before and that SKYFIRE title was just a bonus prize. But your eyes, they weren't on the prize. They were elsewhere, drifting, caring about some other bullshit and that my friend, is dangerous when you're at the top. Me, I've kept my focus on this championship even though I'm contracted to a variety of places. Why? Because it matters to me. And I'm going to make this title, the most relevant title in professional wrestling."
Unbuckling his championship belt from his waist, he draped it over his shoulder and caressed it with his hands, looking at the camera whilst doing so. He cared. You could think anything you wanted about Mark Storm, but if there was one thing you couldn't deny, was that he cared deeply. The way he delivered his words, his mannerisms, everything about him resonated care.
"On January 5th, I want a different Chris Crippler standing across the ring from me. I want a Chris Crippler who wants this more than anything in the world. I want a Chris Crippler who'll be ready to tear down that Auditorium and rip it a new one. I want a Chris Crippler who's going to give me a nine star match! I wanna see that fire in your eyes, that fire that's been missing for far too long but I know it's in there.
I want a Chris Crippler who's going to take me to hell, take a couple of photos on the ride - and back, and make me wish that I never wanted this version of you to come back. This version of you, that's become a ghost. This version of you, that becamee a legend. If there's one thing that's promised Chris, is that this match is going down in the history books as one of the greatest this promotion has ever seen. Correction, it's a match of the year candidate across the industry, but only if you want it to be.
I want it to be. But I warn you, this isn't the classic hero and monster story they've been calling this. That's not how this tale is going to be between us. No, this is a monster in Chris Crippler. A monster, that I'll make sure awakens, going toe to toe against A GOD! A GOD WHO HAS COME DOWN TO REIGN TERROR HERE IN GLOBAL WRESTLING DIVISION! A GOD, WHO IS READY TO NOT ONLY BEAT YOU CHRIS, BUT PUT YOU DOWN AND OUT, FOR GOOD! That's what I'm ready to do. That's what I'm prepared to do!
And I do Chris, because I can. You don't, because you suck. From Your GOD, and Mine."
Passionately, he stopped. Closing his eyes and nodding his head. He allowed that signature smirk to plant upon his lips and the screen faded to black.
Clinging to the thought of anonymity was no longer a possibility. Because now, Mark Storm had cemented his legacy as a household name. And through that, came global exposure that the ordinary professional wrestler wouldn't know how to handle. He was no longer a professional among his peers but in his eyes, he was a God within the industry - a name that had come from nowhere, if a cocoon.
And over time that cocoon grew and grew until the day came he was ready to leave the mundane habitat he had become accustomed to and spread his wings. That day had come. He was now reaching the peak of his career and he could feel it in his bones. In his heart, in every breath he took of a every second, of every day. There was a change in the tide and he was sure only he could feel it.
"They're calling this, Heroes and Monsters. But not me. That's not what I'm calling it. I'm sure that's what they want me to call it. Because you've been my perfect villain for so long, Chris, it's almost like a story fitting for a fairy-tale.
Ever since our days back over in SKYFIRE Wrestling, we've been at each others throats, fighting for that top spot - fighting for that championship belt that everybody wanted to get their hands on, but only we delivered. You are my villain. You are, my monster. But this match, it's surpassed the title we've been given. I am no longer just a hero in this story, but I am a GOD. This is a monster, against a GOD!"
Venomous with his speech, he came to a halt.
His newly prized possession buckled around his waist and the camera fixated on it for a moment, his name carved in Gold and championship belt glistening itself. This was, his most valuable possession to date. To become the first ever champion in a promotion was a big deal, it mean't more to him than anyone could possibly imagine.
It mean't that his name had been etched into the history books of Global Wrestling Division. It mean't that when critics and fans talked about the promotion, the first name they recognized with it was that of his own - Mark Storm, the first ever American Justice Champion.
Behind him was a poster, his name on it with an image of himself after just winning the American Justice title at Out For Justice II. He stood in front of his crowning moment and he half turned his body to look at it, reaching out for it and placing a hand on the poster - closing his eyes to allow himself to relive those moments in glory, those moments that he could now never forget.
"I told you all, every single damn one of you that I was going to be heralded as the first ever American Justice champion. Some of you believed me. But a lot of you, didn't. You were naive. Naive to believe that Chris Crippler is still capable of keeping up with the likes of me. Crippler is a proven champion, yes. You look at his resume, and you gasp in awe at what he's managed to accomplish over his career.
It's a stellar one, a one that rookies and veterans admire, and wrestling critics constantly write about. Hell, he damn near enough carried SKYFIRE Wrestling on his own two shoulders for quite a while. BUT, that was before I arrived. That's the thing Chris, despite all your accomplishments, all your accolades and famous wins and everything you've ever done inside that four sided ring, there's one thing you're incapable of doing. Beating, me.
That's a fact Chris and we both know it to be true. You couldn't get it done the first time of asking. I put you down after everyone else who came before me, tried - so vigorously but failed, so miserably. You couldn't get it down after our second meeting, which was supposed to be your redemption - retribution for the humiliation of me, dethroning you from the top of the food-chain. You couldn't get it done and soon after, you bowed out - became another name, that was once so formidable, but had faded to the shadows.
And then here Chris, here - you couldn't beat me, and people will say well look at the circumstances, there were two other guys in the match, it's unfair to count that match as part of the trilogy. But you were in that ring Chris. You were in the same match as I was. You were in touching distance of getting your hands on my American Justice title. BUT STILL, you couldn't get it done! Why? Why can't you beat me? It's as simple as this Chris:
I, am better, than you.
And I'm not going to use the old age book. We all know your ancient but that's not the reason why I'm better than you. You've already proven that age really doesn't matter because you schooled Anders and Compact. I'm better than you, because I'm hungrier than you. Because I want this more than you. Because whilst you've already cemented your legacy in the archives of this game, I'm still writing mine! I'm yet to reach my peak! You've surpassed yours and you've got complacent! Why? Because what else can you do? Sure, you can sign for a new promotion and help rise it's status and bring in an audience from all over the world... but that's good enough for you.
You don't care about being the ambassador, despite your claims of doing so - if you did care, you would've beaten me. Same now, and it was the same in SKYFIRE. You were already at the top. You had already won the Honor title before and that SKYFIRE title was just a bonus prize. But your eyes, they weren't on the prize. They were elsewhere, drifting, caring about some other bullshit and that my friend, is dangerous when you're at the top. Me, I've kept my focus on this championship even though I'm contracted to a variety of places. Why? Because it matters to me. And I'm going to make this title, the most relevant title in professional wrestling."
Unbuckling his championship belt from his waist, he draped it over his shoulder and caressed it with his hands, looking at the camera whilst doing so. He cared. You could think anything you wanted about Mark Storm, but if there was one thing you couldn't deny, was that he cared deeply. The way he delivered his words, his mannerisms, everything about him resonated care.
"On January 5th, I want a different Chris Crippler standing across the ring from me. I want a Chris Crippler who wants this more than anything in the world. I want a Chris Crippler who'll be ready to tear down that Auditorium and rip it a new one. I want a Chris Crippler who's going to give me a nine star match! I wanna see that fire in your eyes, that fire that's been missing for far too long but I know it's in there.
I want a Chris Crippler who's going to take me to hell, take a couple of photos on the ride - and back, and make me wish that I never wanted this version of you to come back. This version of you, that's become a ghost. This version of you, that becamee a legend. If there's one thing that's promised Chris, is that this match is going down in the history books as one of the greatest this promotion has ever seen. Correction, it's a match of the year candidate across the industry, but only if you want it to be.
I want it to be. But I warn you, this isn't the classic hero and monster story they've been calling this. That's not how this tale is going to be between us. No, this is a monster in Chris Crippler. A monster, that I'll make sure awakens, going toe to toe against A GOD! A GOD WHO HAS COME DOWN TO REIGN TERROR HERE IN GLOBAL WRESTLING DIVISION! A GOD, WHO IS READY TO NOT ONLY BEAT YOU CHRIS, BUT PUT YOU DOWN AND OUT, FOR GOOD! That's what I'm ready to do. That's what I'm prepared to do!
And I do Chris, because I can. You don't, because you suck. From Your GOD, and Mine."
Passionately, he stopped. Closing his eyes and nodding his head. He allowed that signature smirk to plant upon his lips and the screen faded to black.
