Post by Deleted on May 17, 2014 18:11:06 GMT -5
Your screen is black. "Horizon" by Assemblage 23 begins to play. A whirring sound can be heard, as the screen flashes momentarily, intercut with static. The whirring slowly intensifies, a faint buzzing reverberates, the static and flashing begin to dissipate. As the sounds continue to echo, a face can almost be seen forming in the static. A female face...seemingly smiling. The pace slowly, but surely begins to intensify...before a loud beat drops. The screen insantly goes black, as the song truly kicks in.
Images of gears in a machine are displayed, turning, and keeping The Machine churning...
A countdown then begins, ticking down with every beat...
10...
9...
8...
7...
6...
5...
4...
3...
2...
As the '2' flashes before the screen, static rips through, and we find ourselves gazing into a mirror. A mirror into the past few months... every scene dipicting the cruelty The Establishment has caused PWX to suffer.
From Zion taking control of the company, leading his brutal monster Schmeid to devestate the roster, as Darin ruled with an iron fist...
Never Say Die 5, RISE faces The Establishment. Brian Hollywood leaves his 'best friend', John Pariah, high and dry... before returning, and clocking him with a steel chair.
"Hours...
Spiral and coil into black.
Some remembered, some forever gone..."
Zion, Brian, Schmeid and the rest of their lackeys ran rampant through the promotion, bringing in Troy Stone, before leaving him cold...
"Tragic...
We never get them all back.
The relentless march of time must still go on..."
John Ojeda, Nikki Blade, TJ Codair And Matthew Prince slowly forge together, creating a frontline. Before quickly being cast aside.
"The tide is turning.
Horizon's burning..."
The Establishment now more powerful than ever before.
"Your days are numbered.
Your future has crumbled."
The mirror shatters. The shards pour down in a crystal clear, 3D, HD effect...before they begin to swirl as if they were being spun in a tornado. They then scatter, and appear to rain down upon a shadow-encased roof, from a little under a week ago.
Wednesday. May 7th. 2014.
"The Awakening"
"We watched from the shadows.", a female voice rung out into the night air.
"The Initiative...we stood atop a roof, just like this one. Watching from our perch, gazing upon a laptop at the action that transpired below. Just as we did tonight.
"We are outcasts. Always have been, always will be. We do not live as so many do...For fame. For fortune. For the glory of the gold and the suffering of others. Some have wondered why we're here. If not for the titles, if not for the popularity, or to break necks and cash checks as Wrath HIMSELF lives for...What else is there?"
The figure visibly turned her head to the side, despite the thick cover of nightfall...gazing off into the distance.
"I will tell you. Right here, right now, I will TELL YOU...why we have arrived."
She then turned her eyes back toward the camera's lens...her eyes twinkling brightly, even through the veil of darkness.
"...we are here, because we grew up as fans of this business. Not only fans, but BELIEVERS. Our childhoods were hell, our teenage years unmentionable. But this business, whether you call it a sport or sports entertainment, THIS...was our beacon. The ONLY thing, other than our own gang of four, that we had to get us through every day and every night. It helped us see, that even in the darkest of days, there is always hope. Our heroes, TRUE heroes, stood to fight for what was right. We believed, we STILL believe, and we always, ALWAYS will.
"So, one day, we decided to enter the industry. To become a part of that which inspired us to break through the barriers placed before us... To stare into the eyes of a system that cried 'You can't!'....and to SCREAM, 'Yes. We. Can.'
"We began in a company known as Full Throttle Wrestling. November of last year, and it was grand. Oh, how it was...but it was gone as soon as it began. We were cast out in a company of outcasts. And we were left without a home.
"Flash forward to April of this year. One month ago, almost to the day, we entered the world of Twitter. We began to get our names out there, to create what we refer to, as our 'brand'. It was a grassroots movement. One that created as many haters as it did Believers...if not moreso.
"We will never be understood by all. But we do not wish to be. We do not focus on the 'followers'. The shallow, fickle fans and fellow wrestlers that only stand by in the good times. No...We focus only on the True Believers. The Crue-saders. Those that stand by us and our beliefs, through the thick and the thin, unconditionally. Those who are so commited, that they would hold on till their final breath, in the face of adversity, as well as the possibility of unmatched wealth. Some stars...some like Darin Zion and Brian Hollywood, or even Vox Populi? They are willing to forsake their self-truths if confronted with an ultimatum. To turn in their beliefs, for a suit, a tie, and a briefcase full of cash.
"We do not accept ulimatums." With these words, the gal could audibly be heard inhaling a deep breath, before slowly releasing. "We are not puppets. Nor do we give up or back down, even when the odds seem immeasurable. For men and women like Codair, Ojeda, Prince & Blade, we hold nothing but respect...but even through, the darkest days, our fire? It shall always burn.
"Come hell or high water? We will remain.
In the face of adversity? We will remain.
And in the END?"
This last word was shouted into the night sky, echoing across the expanse of The Amway Center in Orlando. As she called out, three figures stepped into the frame, all three covered in shadow. They stood at her side, one in particular wrapping his trenchcoat-covered arm around her shoulder. He spoke three, simple words --
"We. Will. Rise."
She let out a small sigh of relief, before resting her head upon his shoulder. He continued where she left off.
"When we stepped into the world of pro wrestling for a second time, after our short-lived run in FT-Dub... we had this vision. We focused on 'touring the world', going from place to place, wherever we were needed...
"...but then? We came here. We did the research, we watched the tapes, we took in as much as we possibly could. And we slowly realized...there is no place like home. This place?
"It needs heroes.
TRUE heroes.
"And so? We answered the call. We watched The Initiative, we watched The Awakening. And quite frankly? We didn't like what we saw. Don't get me wrong, the action was thrilling, the fans were hyped, the ENERGY was in th air.
"But The Establishment? They held the reigns. Zion's right...There's a poison in this place. Coursing through its veins, killing its life source. Slowly sapping away that energy that once flowed so freely. Killing its passion.
"We've been fans of this industry practically since we learned to walk, and we've seen this kind of 'poison' time and again. Far too many to count. A company RICH with life...killed at the very hands of those who should be keeping it alive.
"Men such as Russo. Bischoff. And the devil HIMSELF...McMahon. Three names, three men with vision, with minds for this business. Driven by ego, driven by power, money...greed. We've seen the acts these men have perpetrated over the years...
"...And we cannot continue to see PWX suffer the same. That is WHY we are here, the reason we chose this place as our home, when we weren't looking for one. We've seen the history, we know the names, we know the faces. We know the passion."
The male figure brushed his hand against his mouth, contemplating, and pausing for a moment. He nodded his head slightly, motioning for the gal in his embrace to continue.
"So, with that, we vow, to all those in the locker room, all those watching at home and in the stands...and we vow to Zion and Hollywood. On this night, we promise to each and every one of you, we will do whatever it takes to keep this ship afloat. It will NOT sink, as long as we are on board. And if we have to? If The Establishment's grip is so tight, that members flee, and abandon, leaving a sinking vessel... We will be The Band on the deck of the Titanic. Because in the words of Hayley Williams...our heart? It beats for only you."
"We look amongst this roster, and while there is unmistakable talent...we cannot help but find a lack of heroes. A lack of people you can believe in, cheer for, KNOW that they are good people, with good intentions. Who aren't self-serving, but instead, they serve this company, this business. Sometimes it's hard to look at the men and women in PWX and tell who stands as a hero, and who lives their lives as the villain. Men like Timothy Hunt, Anton Chase, and even the departed John Ojeda. I mean, we were inspired by the ending of The Initiative, make no mistake about it. His group has left, speaking their names could land us in trouble with The Powers That Be, but there is no question that the man and his crew were talented. And they motivated us beyond a shadow of a doubt.
"But...watching what transpired...HELL, watching Hunt, Chase, and so many others here, it is DIFFICULT, to truly tell who steps between those ropes for the good of the fans. As well as the good of their fellow competitors, that night in, night out, lace up their boots, step into the ring, and bust their asses to keep this place going. We watched the ending of The Initiative, and honestly...it scared us. The Hell House IS one of our inspirations. But we do not operate the same way they did."
The man then patted his gal on the shoulder, as if tagging back in. He spoke.
"Ojeda said, he told the world...he is no hero. He is no Savior. And in a way, we can respect his honesty. We wish him and his pack the best in their futures. But allow me to be honest myself. I AM a hero. I am the Savior of The Soulless. I fight for the good of this company, and while men like Zion claim to do what's 'best for business'? I...WE...We mean it. We say what we mean. We mean what we say. And we DO...what we say we're going to do. When we say we operate differently from most in this industry, we mean it. To us, it's not about the gold, the glory, the fame or the fortune. It's not about inflicting pain and hurting people. It's not even about the roar of the crowd, though we do love the fans, and the reaction DOES pump us up. But that's not why we do this.
"We do this to help the business that got us through the hard times. So, we saw The Hell House, and we saw how they tortured, literally, Darin Zion. And we cringed, and told eachother, 'that's not us'...but then? We got home. And we watched tape, we studied this company and did the research. And the Truth is... while we don't agree with their tactics? The Hell House showed a fire that did not deserve to be put out. No, it deserved to burn brightly, and to lead the charge against The Establishment. Their tactics may have been questionable... but Zion and Hollywood's miserable, underhanded, DESPICABLE actions? They are without question. In the battle between Evil...and Evil? We chose the lesser of the two. We gaze into the past, the paths of The House, and we see glimpses...What could have been. And we find ourselves with the building blocks of what we will be. To create our own 'House'...one that may look different. May not be built on quite the same foundation. But inside, where it matters? The four of us tick with the same desire that fueled the four of them."
He then nodded his head once more, allowing the gal to pick up.
"So, while we may not walk in their shoes, we WILL take one of their lessons, learn from it, and use it as our guiding light.
"One way or another. By any means necessary. WHATEVER IT TAKES...The Establishment MUST be brought to justice.
"Despite their methods, the Hell House was wronged just as so many others who've called this place 'home'. Codair suffered unjustly. Wrath had his title and stock in this company taken unfairly. Prince, at LEAST had the opportunity to decimate you, Zion, and he ran with it. Down the field, and scored one HELL of a touchdown, when he dropped you with the top rope death valley driver. Then, the Impossibly Brutality. Before riding off into the sunset. And all your little 'monster', your FLUNKIE, Schmeid...all he chose to do was stand and watch. When opportunity knocked, Prince answered.
"And so too will The Crue."
With that, the male figure rose his voice, declaring --
"We are entering The Battle Royal. Next Wednesday, live on Adrenaline, the two of us..."
-- the two figures stepped into the camera's light, revealing themselves, though it was quite clear who they were --
"...The King & Queen of The Crue, Axl VanHalen & Tifa BonJovi. The two of us are entering our very first pro wrestling match, our DEBUT in this business, and we do so in the main event, for a shot at the World Title. Not too shabby, but make no mistake. We are not entering to claim the Title. That isn't our intention, at least. We're entering to make sure, none of The Establishment's cogs in the machine walk away from this tournament with the gold. We're making sure that someone just & deserving DOES. To insure that if ANYONE walks away from this tourney with the title, regardless of if it's the two of us or not, that they be just & deserving of the honor to lead PWX as its torch-bearer.
"We are entering because of three names: Zion...Hollywood....and Ojeda. We are entering, making sure that someone worthy of carrying the torch walks away with the strap. And by entering this battle royal, we secure the most precious crown in this company. We do not fight for the gold, not because the titles aren't important. On the contrary, they are without a doubt EXTREMELY important. But it is not our place to claim any company's championships. We see ourselves as a rebel justice task force, called upon to do what is right. and from now on, 'what is right'? Is that we remain here. There are so many worthy individuals in PWX... Tim Hunt, Brock Whitworth, Joey Harris, Roxxie Roberts, John FUCKIN' Pariah... and so many reasons that, if the top title were to fall into the wrong hands, this company could be in much worse shape than it already is."
Tifa then stepped forward, clearing her throat, before pressing onward.
"We see ourselves as the guardians of this company. And IF we must claim the World Championship so that it does not fall into the wrong hands? So be it. Just as the Hell House before us--by any means neccessary. We will carry their torch, we WILL lead their resistance. We will fight in their name, and pick up where they left off. We WILL continue what they began on that night. Different actions. Same motives. The same heart, the same drive and determination. The very same desire. And that desire will drive us to bring The Establishment crumbling at our feet. Zion, you told Ojeda at The Initiative that he 'only looked out for him, his own, and no one but them', but LOOK into your mirror. Cast your gaze upon your own reflection, and DZ, you will find that you are no different. Telling the world how Wrath tried to bury the entire roster for the pleasure of himself, NEWSFLASH!! You are the very reflection of that which you despise. And I DARE YOU to claim otherwise. And to do so truthfully, to search yourself and tell me, eye to eye, that you are as you always were. That you still walk the path you embarked upon, and that you still live by your beliefs...instead of by the almighty dollar."
Tifa stepped forth, the camera panning to follow her, as she stood at the roof's edge...looking down toward the ground below, before gazing up at the night sky. Stars shimmered luminously, casting their light upon her gorgeous frame. The starlight set in her eyes...
"See, Darin...you want to play 'hero'. The Crue World Order? We don't play. We say something, we MEAN IT. So many doubt, so MANY deny and tell us, that they'll 'believe it when they see it'. Cast out from FTW, Force1...we come here, we hear their claims. That they haven't truly seen anything."
She then turned her head, focusing intently on the camera.
"You're right. You're ALL...right. You haven't seen anything...
"...Yet."
Tifa stepped toward the camera, clad in a pair of jet black, tight leather pants, with a red leather skirt fitted over. Around her waist rested a black belt, looped through a diamond-encrusted skull buckle. Upon her feet she wore a pair of red 'Vans' skate sneakers, with black lacing. Her hands were fit into a pair of glistening, fingerless black gloves, bedecked with tiny sparkles. Her arms were wrapped in torn fishnet, beneath a black t-shirt, one of her own design. A 'Tee By Tifa', reading in crimson red lettering -- "Days Are Numbered". Around her throat, she wore a spiked collar, the spikes shining in the light of the moon. Her hair, a brilliant shade of red...And dangling from her right ear, she wore a piercing; an upside down cross. Tattooed upon her right arm, were the digits 'W14A'... she glanced at this tat, before eyeing the camera.
"W14A. My name. At least, what they called me in MeadowLake, the asylum I called 'home' for four years of my life. There is much to discuss concerning my past, as well as that of my brothers. But tonight is not the night for storytelling. Tonight is the night we prepare to step into war for the first time. The first of many.
"We came to this company to create change. Not through words. But through action. Zion, you claim The Crue 'fears you'?" She shook her head slowly, eyes locked on the camera's lens. "We do not fear you...not in the LEAST. If anything? We feel sorry for you. For turning your back on all you believed in. And after watching the tapes of history, going through the federation's archives...we realize. You, Darin Zion, are not the only one who turned their back on their beliefs.
"Brian Hollywood." Speaking this name, Tifa once again shook her head, before looking down at the roof she stood on.
"Brian...do you remember?" She then looked back up, but a different look rested in her eyes. One of compassion. She shook her head slightly, and spoke. "Brian, do you remember 'RISE'? Do you remember the battles before that, the battles during, all the times you fought for honor, for respect? A CODE...you used to live by. Brian, had The Crue arrived some time ago, I can guarantee you. You would be standing at our side, fighting our fight. You would be the very first name on the list of those who we reached out to, to do what was right, and battle in the name of this company.
"Now? Now, we look at you, and we see the same look in your eyes that we find in Darin's. A look that betrays the shining, fake, plastic smile that plasters itself across your face. In your eyes, we find the Truth. You know, Brian...you know, that when you look yourself in the mirror? You don't like what you see. Sure, much of you may. A large part of you may try and tell yourself...you're doing what's 'best for business'. That you're happy to ruin lives, to wreck careers, to belittle people and destroy The Code you once swore by. But I know, I Believe, that there's still that tiny piece of you that cannot shake what is real. In your HEART...in your soul, Brian? You know The Truth. For I can see the real you, and I can see that the truth is impossible for you to deny. You went from leading a resistance, to standing beside the enemy, as you ruin this promotion together.
"Another person that turned their back on all they believed in? Someone that once went under the umbrella... of 'The Last Real Women'. Before that? 'Harmonious Revolution'. But now? I can't call you a 'Real Woman'. Tiami Tyler... you stood up to Zion at The Initiative. You had had enough, you FOUGHT BACK. You proved you still had it in you, the desire, the fighting spirit...but then? One week later, tonight, at The Awakening, you stand as you did before. As a lackey. A stooge. A pawn in their game, a cog in THEIR machine. You no longer fight for a 'Revolution', you no longer fight for yourSELF. You fight so their agenda may be served, so that their self-righteous destiny may be fulfilled. So that their 'poison' may continue to stream through the veins of PWX. You are used, and allow it, DESPITE all Brian and Zion have done to you. For that reason? We can only pray Timothy Hunt emerges victorious. Because as long as you allow The Establishment to control you...the title cannot fall within your grasp. For there is no telling what future could fall upon this place if it does."
Axl then walked into the picture, fury and intensity building in his expression.
"And Zion....don't you see? Just as you and Brian use Tiami, Brian has been doing the VERY same to you. Brian is using you, Darin, he's ALWAYS been using you. He has ALWAYS been pulling the strings. You are nothing more than a puppet in his master plan. You claim to have the whole world in your hands? You hold nothing. You are BEING held, in control of nothing but what Brian allows you to be in control of. Your 'monster' Shmeid, your Hybrid Title. You think these things make you master and ruler of the world?" Axl eyed the camera with a quizzical arch of the eyebrow, as if he was questioning Zion himself. "Zion..." He shook his head, and chuckled slightly. "You may be 'The Champion, my friend'...but you are no 'King'. You are his jester, and he tells you when to dance.
"In addition? You are a LIAR. You weaseled your way into the Hybrid Title match, you weaseled your way to victory. You took every shortcut you could, and in the end, at the END of that night? The weasel was crucified. And it won't be the last time. You hold the world in your hands? Well allow us to remind you. We are the Crue WORLD Order. And we represent that which you hold so tightly. And we will BE that which rips it from your grasp.
"You can gloat about all of your titles victories, your records and accolades. But Zion, riddle me this. You've broken your body week in and week out? How many weeks can you break your body in the name of a division you claimed was dead? One you claim to have saved? How long will this fourth reign last? The reign you've worked toward for at least two years' time? Back when you made your promise to achieve 'Grand Slam Status', you were a different breed. Now? You claim to be the hero, the SAVIOR? Darin Zion, you are no hero. Not anymore. No savior, no messiah, no king. You are a false prophet. The man that stands as The Establishment's 'Hybrid Hero'? He's nothing more than a self-serving, self-righteous hero to no man but the one that stares back from the mirror's reflection.
"And Brian? You are nothing more, than a tryant. A dictator. A coward whose days are numbered."
Tifa then stepped into the light, eyes now fiery with passion, as she spoke one final time.
"There are many in this battle royal who are deserving, unquestionably. Richards, Hardy, Hawkes, James, Siobhan, Divera...Elijah Black. Elijah, IF you win? If you go on to claim the World Title? Do so not for those who you align yourself with. Do so for you. Do so in the same manner you have in the past. We still believe in you. And I don't see that changing any time soon.
"Allow me to leave you with this passage. A passage that shall burn itself into the back of your mind and the minds of those that follow the path of The Establishment.
"Then I saw when the Lamb broke one of the seven seals, and I heard one of the four living creatures saying as with a voice of thunder...
'Come and see.'
"PWX...Believe. Or BeLeft BeHind."
*STATIC*
Images of gears in a machine are displayed, turning, and keeping The Machine churning...
A countdown then begins, ticking down with every beat...
10...
9...
8...
7...
6...
5...
4...
3...
2...
As the '2' flashes before the screen, static rips through, and we find ourselves gazing into a mirror. A mirror into the past few months... every scene dipicting the cruelty The Establishment has caused PWX to suffer.
From Zion taking control of the company, leading his brutal monster Schmeid to devestate the roster, as Darin ruled with an iron fist...
Never Say Die 5, RISE faces The Establishment. Brian Hollywood leaves his 'best friend', John Pariah, high and dry... before returning, and clocking him with a steel chair.
"Hours...
Spiral and coil into black.
Some remembered, some forever gone..."
Zion, Brian, Schmeid and the rest of their lackeys ran rampant through the promotion, bringing in Troy Stone, before leaving him cold...
"Tragic...
We never get them all back.
The relentless march of time must still go on..."
John Ojeda, Nikki Blade, TJ Codair And Matthew Prince slowly forge together, creating a frontline. Before quickly being cast aside.
"The tide is turning.
Horizon's burning..."
The Establishment now more powerful than ever before.
"Your days are numbered.
Your future has crumbled."
The mirror shatters. The shards pour down in a crystal clear, 3D, HD effect...before they begin to swirl as if they were being spun in a tornado. They then scatter, and appear to rain down upon a shadow-encased roof, from a little under a week ago.
Wednesday. May 7th. 2014.
"The Awakening"
"We watched from the shadows.", a female voice rung out into the night air.
"The Initiative...we stood atop a roof, just like this one. Watching from our perch, gazing upon a laptop at the action that transpired below. Just as we did tonight.
"We are outcasts. Always have been, always will be. We do not live as so many do...For fame. For fortune. For the glory of the gold and the suffering of others. Some have wondered why we're here. If not for the titles, if not for the popularity, or to break necks and cash checks as Wrath HIMSELF lives for...What else is there?"
The figure visibly turned her head to the side, despite the thick cover of nightfall...gazing off into the distance.
"I will tell you. Right here, right now, I will TELL YOU...why we have arrived."
She then turned her eyes back toward the camera's lens...her eyes twinkling brightly, even through the veil of darkness.
"...we are here, because we grew up as fans of this business. Not only fans, but BELIEVERS. Our childhoods were hell, our teenage years unmentionable. But this business, whether you call it a sport or sports entertainment, THIS...was our beacon. The ONLY thing, other than our own gang of four, that we had to get us through every day and every night. It helped us see, that even in the darkest of days, there is always hope. Our heroes, TRUE heroes, stood to fight for what was right. We believed, we STILL believe, and we always, ALWAYS will.
"So, one day, we decided to enter the industry. To become a part of that which inspired us to break through the barriers placed before us... To stare into the eyes of a system that cried 'You can't!'....and to SCREAM, 'Yes. We. Can.'
"We began in a company known as Full Throttle Wrestling. November of last year, and it was grand. Oh, how it was...but it was gone as soon as it began. We were cast out in a company of outcasts. And we were left without a home.
"Flash forward to April of this year. One month ago, almost to the day, we entered the world of Twitter. We began to get our names out there, to create what we refer to, as our 'brand'. It was a grassroots movement. One that created as many haters as it did Believers...if not moreso.
"We will never be understood by all. But we do not wish to be. We do not focus on the 'followers'. The shallow, fickle fans and fellow wrestlers that only stand by in the good times. No...We focus only on the True Believers. The Crue-saders. Those that stand by us and our beliefs, through the thick and the thin, unconditionally. Those who are so commited, that they would hold on till their final breath, in the face of adversity, as well as the possibility of unmatched wealth. Some stars...some like Darin Zion and Brian Hollywood, or even Vox Populi? They are willing to forsake their self-truths if confronted with an ultimatum. To turn in their beliefs, for a suit, a tie, and a briefcase full of cash.
"We do not accept ulimatums." With these words, the gal could audibly be heard inhaling a deep breath, before slowly releasing. "We are not puppets. Nor do we give up or back down, even when the odds seem immeasurable. For men and women like Codair, Ojeda, Prince & Blade, we hold nothing but respect...but even through, the darkest days, our fire? It shall always burn.
"Come hell or high water? We will remain.
In the face of adversity? We will remain.
And in the END?"
This last word was shouted into the night sky, echoing across the expanse of The Amway Center in Orlando. As she called out, three figures stepped into the frame, all three covered in shadow. They stood at her side, one in particular wrapping his trenchcoat-covered arm around her shoulder. He spoke three, simple words --
"We. Will. Rise."
She let out a small sigh of relief, before resting her head upon his shoulder. He continued where she left off.
"When we stepped into the world of pro wrestling for a second time, after our short-lived run in FT-Dub... we had this vision. We focused on 'touring the world', going from place to place, wherever we were needed...
"...but then? We came here. We did the research, we watched the tapes, we took in as much as we possibly could. And we slowly realized...there is no place like home. This place?
"It needs heroes.
TRUE heroes.
"And so? We answered the call. We watched The Initiative, we watched The Awakening. And quite frankly? We didn't like what we saw. Don't get me wrong, the action was thrilling, the fans were hyped, the ENERGY was in th air.
"But The Establishment? They held the reigns. Zion's right...There's a poison in this place. Coursing through its veins, killing its life source. Slowly sapping away that energy that once flowed so freely. Killing its passion.
"We've been fans of this industry practically since we learned to walk, and we've seen this kind of 'poison' time and again. Far too many to count. A company RICH with life...killed at the very hands of those who should be keeping it alive.
"Men such as Russo. Bischoff. And the devil HIMSELF...McMahon. Three names, three men with vision, with minds for this business. Driven by ego, driven by power, money...greed. We've seen the acts these men have perpetrated over the years...
"...And we cannot continue to see PWX suffer the same. That is WHY we are here, the reason we chose this place as our home, when we weren't looking for one. We've seen the history, we know the names, we know the faces. We know the passion."
The male figure brushed his hand against his mouth, contemplating, and pausing for a moment. He nodded his head slightly, motioning for the gal in his embrace to continue.
"So, with that, we vow, to all those in the locker room, all those watching at home and in the stands...and we vow to Zion and Hollywood. On this night, we promise to each and every one of you, we will do whatever it takes to keep this ship afloat. It will NOT sink, as long as we are on board. And if we have to? If The Establishment's grip is so tight, that members flee, and abandon, leaving a sinking vessel... We will be The Band on the deck of the Titanic. Because in the words of Hayley Williams...our heart? It beats for only you."
"We look amongst this roster, and while there is unmistakable talent...we cannot help but find a lack of heroes. A lack of people you can believe in, cheer for, KNOW that they are good people, with good intentions. Who aren't self-serving, but instead, they serve this company, this business. Sometimes it's hard to look at the men and women in PWX and tell who stands as a hero, and who lives their lives as the villain. Men like Timothy Hunt, Anton Chase, and even the departed John Ojeda. I mean, we were inspired by the ending of The Initiative, make no mistake about it. His group has left, speaking their names could land us in trouble with The Powers That Be, but there is no question that the man and his crew were talented. And they motivated us beyond a shadow of a doubt.
"But...watching what transpired...HELL, watching Hunt, Chase, and so many others here, it is DIFFICULT, to truly tell who steps between those ropes for the good of the fans. As well as the good of their fellow competitors, that night in, night out, lace up their boots, step into the ring, and bust their asses to keep this place going. We watched the ending of The Initiative, and honestly...it scared us. The Hell House IS one of our inspirations. But we do not operate the same way they did."
The man then patted his gal on the shoulder, as if tagging back in. He spoke.
"Ojeda said, he told the world...he is no hero. He is no Savior. And in a way, we can respect his honesty. We wish him and his pack the best in their futures. But allow me to be honest myself. I AM a hero. I am the Savior of The Soulless. I fight for the good of this company, and while men like Zion claim to do what's 'best for business'? I...WE...We mean it. We say what we mean. We mean what we say. And we DO...what we say we're going to do. When we say we operate differently from most in this industry, we mean it. To us, it's not about the gold, the glory, the fame or the fortune. It's not about inflicting pain and hurting people. It's not even about the roar of the crowd, though we do love the fans, and the reaction DOES pump us up. But that's not why we do this.
"We do this to help the business that got us through the hard times. So, we saw The Hell House, and we saw how they tortured, literally, Darin Zion. And we cringed, and told eachother, 'that's not us'...but then? We got home. And we watched tape, we studied this company and did the research. And the Truth is... while we don't agree with their tactics? The Hell House showed a fire that did not deserve to be put out. No, it deserved to burn brightly, and to lead the charge against The Establishment. Their tactics may have been questionable... but Zion and Hollywood's miserable, underhanded, DESPICABLE actions? They are without question. In the battle between Evil...and Evil? We chose the lesser of the two. We gaze into the past, the paths of The House, and we see glimpses...What could have been. And we find ourselves with the building blocks of what we will be. To create our own 'House'...one that may look different. May not be built on quite the same foundation. But inside, where it matters? The four of us tick with the same desire that fueled the four of them."
He then nodded his head once more, allowing the gal to pick up.
"So, while we may not walk in their shoes, we WILL take one of their lessons, learn from it, and use it as our guiding light.
"One way or another. By any means necessary. WHATEVER IT TAKES...The Establishment MUST be brought to justice.
"Despite their methods, the Hell House was wronged just as so many others who've called this place 'home'. Codair suffered unjustly. Wrath had his title and stock in this company taken unfairly. Prince, at LEAST had the opportunity to decimate you, Zion, and he ran with it. Down the field, and scored one HELL of a touchdown, when he dropped you with the top rope death valley driver. Then, the Impossibly Brutality. Before riding off into the sunset. And all your little 'monster', your FLUNKIE, Schmeid...all he chose to do was stand and watch. When opportunity knocked, Prince answered.
"And so too will The Crue."
With that, the male figure rose his voice, declaring --
"We are entering The Battle Royal. Next Wednesday, live on Adrenaline, the two of us..."
-- the two figures stepped into the camera's light, revealing themselves, though it was quite clear who they were --
"...The King & Queen of The Crue, Axl VanHalen & Tifa BonJovi. The two of us are entering our very first pro wrestling match, our DEBUT in this business, and we do so in the main event, for a shot at the World Title. Not too shabby, but make no mistake. We are not entering to claim the Title. That isn't our intention, at least. We're entering to make sure, none of The Establishment's cogs in the machine walk away from this tournament with the gold. We're making sure that someone just & deserving DOES. To insure that if ANYONE walks away from this tourney with the title, regardless of if it's the two of us or not, that they be just & deserving of the honor to lead PWX as its torch-bearer.
"We are entering because of three names: Zion...Hollywood....and Ojeda. We are entering, making sure that someone worthy of carrying the torch walks away with the strap. And by entering this battle royal, we secure the most precious crown in this company. We do not fight for the gold, not because the titles aren't important. On the contrary, they are without a doubt EXTREMELY important. But it is not our place to claim any company's championships. We see ourselves as a rebel justice task force, called upon to do what is right. and from now on, 'what is right'? Is that we remain here. There are so many worthy individuals in PWX... Tim Hunt, Brock Whitworth, Joey Harris, Roxxie Roberts, John FUCKIN' Pariah... and so many reasons that, if the top title were to fall into the wrong hands, this company could be in much worse shape than it already is."
Tifa then stepped forward, clearing her throat, before pressing onward.
"We see ourselves as the guardians of this company. And IF we must claim the World Championship so that it does not fall into the wrong hands? So be it. Just as the Hell House before us--by any means neccessary. We will carry their torch, we WILL lead their resistance. We will fight in their name, and pick up where they left off. We WILL continue what they began on that night. Different actions. Same motives. The same heart, the same drive and determination. The very same desire. And that desire will drive us to bring The Establishment crumbling at our feet. Zion, you told Ojeda at The Initiative that he 'only looked out for him, his own, and no one but them', but LOOK into your mirror. Cast your gaze upon your own reflection, and DZ, you will find that you are no different. Telling the world how Wrath tried to bury the entire roster for the pleasure of himself, NEWSFLASH!! You are the very reflection of that which you despise. And I DARE YOU to claim otherwise. And to do so truthfully, to search yourself and tell me, eye to eye, that you are as you always were. That you still walk the path you embarked upon, and that you still live by your beliefs...instead of by the almighty dollar."
Tifa stepped forth, the camera panning to follow her, as she stood at the roof's edge...looking down toward the ground below, before gazing up at the night sky. Stars shimmered luminously, casting their light upon her gorgeous frame. The starlight set in her eyes...
"See, Darin...you want to play 'hero'. The Crue World Order? We don't play. We say something, we MEAN IT. So many doubt, so MANY deny and tell us, that they'll 'believe it when they see it'. Cast out from FTW, Force1...we come here, we hear their claims. That they haven't truly seen anything."
She then turned her head, focusing intently on the camera.
"You're right. You're ALL...right. You haven't seen anything...
"...Yet."
Tifa stepped toward the camera, clad in a pair of jet black, tight leather pants, with a red leather skirt fitted over. Around her waist rested a black belt, looped through a diamond-encrusted skull buckle. Upon her feet she wore a pair of red 'Vans' skate sneakers, with black lacing. Her hands were fit into a pair of glistening, fingerless black gloves, bedecked with tiny sparkles. Her arms were wrapped in torn fishnet, beneath a black t-shirt, one of her own design. A 'Tee By Tifa', reading in crimson red lettering -- "Days Are Numbered". Around her throat, she wore a spiked collar, the spikes shining in the light of the moon. Her hair, a brilliant shade of red...And dangling from her right ear, she wore a piercing; an upside down cross. Tattooed upon her right arm, were the digits 'W14A'... she glanced at this tat, before eyeing the camera.
"W14A. My name. At least, what they called me in MeadowLake, the asylum I called 'home' for four years of my life. There is much to discuss concerning my past, as well as that of my brothers. But tonight is not the night for storytelling. Tonight is the night we prepare to step into war for the first time. The first of many.
"We came to this company to create change. Not through words. But through action. Zion, you claim The Crue 'fears you'?" She shook her head slowly, eyes locked on the camera's lens. "We do not fear you...not in the LEAST. If anything? We feel sorry for you. For turning your back on all you believed in. And after watching the tapes of history, going through the federation's archives...we realize. You, Darin Zion, are not the only one who turned their back on their beliefs.
"Brian Hollywood." Speaking this name, Tifa once again shook her head, before looking down at the roof she stood on.
"Brian...do you remember?" She then looked back up, but a different look rested in her eyes. One of compassion. She shook her head slightly, and spoke. "Brian, do you remember 'RISE'? Do you remember the battles before that, the battles during, all the times you fought for honor, for respect? A CODE...you used to live by. Brian, had The Crue arrived some time ago, I can guarantee you. You would be standing at our side, fighting our fight. You would be the very first name on the list of those who we reached out to, to do what was right, and battle in the name of this company.
"Now? Now, we look at you, and we see the same look in your eyes that we find in Darin's. A look that betrays the shining, fake, plastic smile that plasters itself across your face. In your eyes, we find the Truth. You know, Brian...you know, that when you look yourself in the mirror? You don't like what you see. Sure, much of you may. A large part of you may try and tell yourself...you're doing what's 'best for business'. That you're happy to ruin lives, to wreck careers, to belittle people and destroy The Code you once swore by. But I know, I Believe, that there's still that tiny piece of you that cannot shake what is real. In your HEART...in your soul, Brian? You know The Truth. For I can see the real you, and I can see that the truth is impossible for you to deny. You went from leading a resistance, to standing beside the enemy, as you ruin this promotion together.
"Another person that turned their back on all they believed in? Someone that once went under the umbrella... of 'The Last Real Women'. Before that? 'Harmonious Revolution'. But now? I can't call you a 'Real Woman'. Tiami Tyler... you stood up to Zion at The Initiative. You had had enough, you FOUGHT BACK. You proved you still had it in you, the desire, the fighting spirit...but then? One week later, tonight, at The Awakening, you stand as you did before. As a lackey. A stooge. A pawn in their game, a cog in THEIR machine. You no longer fight for a 'Revolution', you no longer fight for yourSELF. You fight so their agenda may be served, so that their self-righteous destiny may be fulfilled. So that their 'poison' may continue to stream through the veins of PWX. You are used, and allow it, DESPITE all Brian and Zion have done to you. For that reason? We can only pray Timothy Hunt emerges victorious. Because as long as you allow The Establishment to control you...the title cannot fall within your grasp. For there is no telling what future could fall upon this place if it does."
Axl then walked into the picture, fury and intensity building in his expression.
"And Zion....don't you see? Just as you and Brian use Tiami, Brian has been doing the VERY same to you. Brian is using you, Darin, he's ALWAYS been using you. He has ALWAYS been pulling the strings. You are nothing more than a puppet in his master plan. You claim to have the whole world in your hands? You hold nothing. You are BEING held, in control of nothing but what Brian allows you to be in control of. Your 'monster' Shmeid, your Hybrid Title. You think these things make you master and ruler of the world?" Axl eyed the camera with a quizzical arch of the eyebrow, as if he was questioning Zion himself. "Zion..." He shook his head, and chuckled slightly. "You may be 'The Champion, my friend'...but you are no 'King'. You are his jester, and he tells you when to dance.
"In addition? You are a LIAR. You weaseled your way into the Hybrid Title match, you weaseled your way to victory. You took every shortcut you could, and in the end, at the END of that night? The weasel was crucified. And it won't be the last time. You hold the world in your hands? Well allow us to remind you. We are the Crue WORLD Order. And we represent that which you hold so tightly. And we will BE that which rips it from your grasp.
"You can gloat about all of your titles victories, your records and accolades. But Zion, riddle me this. You've broken your body week in and week out? How many weeks can you break your body in the name of a division you claimed was dead? One you claim to have saved? How long will this fourth reign last? The reign you've worked toward for at least two years' time? Back when you made your promise to achieve 'Grand Slam Status', you were a different breed. Now? You claim to be the hero, the SAVIOR? Darin Zion, you are no hero. Not anymore. No savior, no messiah, no king. You are a false prophet. The man that stands as The Establishment's 'Hybrid Hero'? He's nothing more than a self-serving, self-righteous hero to no man but the one that stares back from the mirror's reflection.
"And Brian? You are nothing more, than a tryant. A dictator. A coward whose days are numbered."
Tifa then stepped into the light, eyes now fiery with passion, as she spoke one final time.
"There are many in this battle royal who are deserving, unquestionably. Richards, Hardy, Hawkes, James, Siobhan, Divera...Elijah Black. Elijah, IF you win? If you go on to claim the World Title? Do so not for those who you align yourself with. Do so for you. Do so in the same manner you have in the past. We still believe in you. And I don't see that changing any time soon.
"Allow me to leave you with this passage. A passage that shall burn itself into the back of your mind and the minds of those that follow the path of The Establishment.
"Then I saw when the Lamb broke one of the seven seals, and I heard one of the four living creatures saying as with a voice of thunder...
'Come and see.'
"PWX...Believe. Or BeLeft BeHind."
*STATIC*