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Post by Rock N' Roll God on Mar 14, 2021 13:07:10 GMT -6
World Heavyweight Championship vs. Damon Cross(Rumble Winner) vs. "The Future" Dan AndersonRP Limit: 2 (w/1000 word limit)
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Post by Deleted on Mar 22, 2021 18:31:02 GMT -6
Damon appears to be in his car. His phone, handling the recording duties, is mounted on the dash. The Redeemer is still suited though his dark hair is down now, a bit wild as per usual, framing his severe expression. The fun and games of the first part of his address to Dan Anderson are over; now it’s time to get a bit more real.
”To hell with beating around the bush. I only have one question for you, Dan Anderson, and something tells me that even with its simplicity and directness, you’re going to have a hell of a time answering it satisfactorily.”
A pause, a breath.
”Do you even care about this match?”
Looking past the camera and through the windshield, Damon is unable, and unwilling, to keep the disgust from his face.
”Those precious few times in my career that I’ve been champion before now, regardless of the accepted ‘level’ of the belt in question, I have treated it as though it is the most important thing going. When you earn a championship, you put it at the forefront where wrestling is concerned. It might be the lowest of the low, but only if you treat it that way. It’s something you ought to know, Dan, and ought to damn well act like. But if your silence is any indicator… you don’t. That angers me more than it should. Enough that I cannot simply rein it in. That’s the price of being passionate. Do you even know what that feels like?”
He does not seem to think so. Disbelief is there without even hearing a response from Anderson.
”I hoped it wouldn't come to this, though I had my doubts from the start. In wrestling, the axiom is ‘believe half of what you see and none of what you hear.’ There are exceptions to every rule, but precious few to this one. I lend the rumors just enough credence to make up my own mind, rather than letting others make it for me. So far, just about everything has been true, much to my chagrin. Prima-donna champions, people whose desire to excel in wrestling is directly equivalent to their checks, people who only care when they’re ordered to and skate by as lightly as they can. It’s sickening to me, someone who worked his tail off for everything he has.
All the more reason that the ECWF needs someone like me. Damon Cross. The Redeemer.”
His tone is such that it dares argument. His stare compounds this sensation.
”I hope you hear this, Anderson, and it makes you furious when these words get through your thick skull, and fill you with the urge to tear me apart… to the point of full-blown hate. At least then you would be feeling something. Then I might not worry about whether a fight will be waiting for me at Starrcade. Maybe that’s lowbrow. Am I hitting below the belt in trying to get something out of you that may not even exist? Possibly. A wrestler, though, only becomes better by facing tough competition. If I stomped all over you at Starrcade and took your championship with ease, how would that reflect on belt and company?
It wouldn’t alter perception of me, because I would only have done what I said I would. But your reign would be diminished. The title’s importance would be in question. Do you see what I’m getting at? Do you get why I’m poking and prodding you? I’m trying to do you, this company… and myself… a favor. Probably futilely.”
A shrug is given. Damon slides off his shades and puts them on the dash, rubbing his face in his hands. Something about this is not setting well with him, but of this he does not speak. He just keeps laying into the champ.
”You don’t want to know how far I will go to get your best, Dan. Trust me. I’ve spent months putting that side of me to bed. I have no desire to go there again… even if everyone against me is begging for it. Why? Because once you’re a monster to people, you’re always a monster. Some love their underdog stories like the one I’ve been writing for those aforementioned months. Others live to see people fall on their faces. It makes them feel smug and superior.
Nothing is worth going back. Evan Rush asked me what my reason for fighting is. I introduced my fiancee. She’s the biggest reason that my monster is hibernating. Though I feel like that may be the only way to get you to fight me like you mean it. And I don’t know if I’m willing to go THAT far. Then again, considering how things stand at this point, I wouldn’t have to. Not in your case. I won’t apologize for sounding arrogant in my saying that, either. That is simply the truth. You NEVER apologize for the truth.”
Faintly, his smile comes back around.
”So I won’t apologize for calling you out and taking your title. And I won’t apologize for being who I am, because that is what will allow me to do these things.”
He reaches over and adjusts the mount a bit, making sure that the camera has him dead-on.
”Now, though? Now I wait to see if the fire under your ass spurs you to be something other than a champion who puts forth minimum effort. Someone who believes in what the gold over their shoulder means. Someone… like the champion I intend to be. Either you do it and force me to applaud you for how wrong I was… or I’ll just do what I’ve promised since the start and force you into defeat. The hard way. Because that’s the only way you’ll learn.”
Giving it a few moments for the message to sink in, Damon starts the car, gives one last stare to the device, then shuts it off.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 28, 2021 15:00:54 GMT -6
”Consequences.”
One word, delivered with a firm tone and plenty of underlying meaning. There is also a bit of an echo, the reason for such shown to be the near-emptiness of the house in which Damon is walking. Someone else is doing the recording directly this time around. Natural light flows in through large windows, leaving lit shapes on the hardwood floors, extending the shadows. Damon stops in the middle of a room that, based on the location of the kitchen nearby, must be a dining room.
”None of us are immune. Every action has them, good or bad, selfless or selfish. You can ignore them if you choose, but if you do, the effects are often… exacerbated. You seem intent on doing that, Dan Anderson, to your detriment and that of your championship. I had hoped that something in my last spiel would have triggered you enough to make you respond to me, but… alas. You just keep lying on those proverbial railroad tracks while the train just keeps running over you…”
It IS a smile… just not a very mirthful one. Damon seems to be smiling just to keep from glaring. As if he is unwilling anymore to give in to the anger from last time he addressed the champion.
The challenger is done trying, so to speak.
”Consequences have defined my life, inside wrestling and out of it. Sometimes they were the result of my ill-thought actions. Sometimes I was affected by the consequences of others. A time or two? I WAS the consequence.”
That brings up a bad memory or three. The Redeemer stops his slow walk and stares at the floor.
”You don’t know suffering until you become an invisible child; a ‘mistake’ someone else ‘has to live with’, replaced by a stray straight from the gutter and treated like less than nothing. You don’t know loss until everything promised you, ingrained into you, beaten into you… is swept away all because of a solitary mistake made inadvertently to protect someone. Not unlike the actions of those who would judge me for it. And you don’t know pain until you are stalked, hated and punished for someone else’s weakness.
Any of these situations bring up old memories, Dan? Some moments in your life that maybe you’re not proud of? Times when, with hindsight engaged, you might have chosen differently? Because if not, THIS will be one such moment for you to look back on. The moment when, given every chance to defend yourself and espouse your beliefs in what it takes to be a champion and your determination to stay such against the upstart newcomer, you instead decide to be silent. You choose to ignore the battle ahead of you. The consequence? You will soon be an ex-champion.”
The camera zooms in as he walks to the window, gazing out into the distance. This might have been farmland once upon a time. Some nice trees for shade in the house’s immediate proximity. But beyond that, flat land and blue skies. In the far distance, mountains are darker blue and purple.
”I will never understand people like you, Anderson. Perhaps I am not meant to.”
He leans on his arm, a faint smile seen via his reflection...
”But that doesn’t mean I don’t know how to deal with people like you.”
...and then it is gone.
”Comme on fait son lit, on se couche, Dan Anderson. At this point, nothing is going to save you or your reign. My training has never been more intense and my focus is unparalleled. After coming so close, so many times, only to fall short or have my prize ripped away by unforeseen circumstances, I refuse for even a moment to let myself slack off. Our night soon comes in the World’s Most Famous Arena, and I am going to become the ECWF World Heavyweight Champion. Eleven days after that, I face a gauntlet of five opponents to earn a shot at another World Heavyweight Championship.
Consider that for a moment. Two matches into my ECWF tenure and already I fight for the biggest belt in the company. And if I succeed in the challenge to follow, an opportunity to regain the belt that was so ignominiously taken from me will manifest. And while those odds look slim to some, I choose to believe. Vouloir, c’est pouvoir., as it has been said.”
He turns back to the camera.
”Two world championships. I could win them within the space of less than a month. So grand a feat would satisfy even my desire for glory, if only until the next arises. Satisfaction? Fleeting. Satisfaction only comes at the very end, when the goal is reached. And when that ultimate moment is realized… I will know that it is time. For what? Only time will tell. That, of course, is talk for another time.”
Away from the wall, walking out of the room, down a hall and towards the living room which is likewise empty. Out onto the porch, a wraparound variety. Into the clean mountain air, the warm sun… the light of a fresh, new day.
”I am the consequence of arrogance and silence. I am the answer to the question of who is better. Dan Anderson, when that final bell rings, you will be a memory, one not well-remembered. Even if you pipe up when this reaches the airwaves, it will be too little, too late. You brought this on yourself. I am the progeny of dragons and demons. I have stormed through hell and spit in the devil’s eye, riding out of the inferno on the wings of angels. But my ascent is not yet done. Beating you… is only the beginning.
The rise continues at Starrcade. You and all of the wrestling world will know, and say, my name.”
With a charming grin, Damon tips his hat and walks down the steps and out of the shot, the feed soon cutting to black.
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