Post by Mr. PerpetuaLynch Motion on Dec 16, 2012 18:15:57 GMT -5
*The moon is high in the air providing the only natural source of light on this particular silent night. Large flakes of snow float from the sky and begin to accumulate on the already large amount of snow on the ground, a typical scene for this time of the year in the rural area of the Capital Region in Alberta. At the same time however, it doesn’t seem to be as cold as it could be probably due to the fact that there is no wind to speak of, a calm December evening. Off in the distance a faint orange glow can be seen, someone is taking advantage of the rare mild winter’s evening by having a camp fire of sorts in the middle of a wide clearing surrounded by towering spruce trees. As the fire glows brighter it reveals a little bit more of the surrounding area including a gigantic house that was engulfed in the darkness of the night however now with the raging fire burning, a corner of the structure can be seen. Still though the expanse of the building can’t be seen as the rest of the house is still shrouded in shadows. Off to the right, a man comes strolling out from the trees carrying some branches. Obviously this is the man who started the fire or at the very least he is the one keeping the fire from growing out of control and igniting the house that it sits perilously close to. The man approaches the fire looking fully focused upon the task that he is performing. Upon throwing the branches onto the flames he closes his eyes and deeply inhales the cool air. He opens his eyes upon exhaling and just stares straight forward into the darkness, not looking at anything in particular because nothing is there. He raises his arms as if addressing an audience that just isn’t there. He begins to shout, his voice piercing through the still night.*[/b]
Welcome ladies and gentlemen to the great outdoors!
*The man’s voice echoes for a bit and then just fades away and the silence that once was now returns again. The man, still staring into the darkness, now lowers his arms back to his side. He shifts his glance down to the fire and crouches down beside it. He picks up a stick set off to the side and tends the fire by mixing the coals around. The fire takes to the new branches that this man found and the flames get even bigger illuminating more of the surrounding area including a little bit more of the side of the building sitting right beside it. The man appears almost in a trance at the dancing flames and he begins almost muttering unintelligible words to himself but the eventually start forming sentences.*
You are witness to a great purging fire. Fire represents a horribly destructive end in one respect but in another respect fire represents a rebirth. Like a phoenix. I’m a phoenix. Start over. All over again.
*The man stands up again and stares into the fire as a look of disdain comes over his face. He does an abrupt turn on his heels and disappears back into the shadows. After a few uncomfortably quiet moments the individual returns with a gas can and a bucket in his hand. He places the gas can on the ground uncomfortably close to the inferno. He turns again and walks around the corner of the house and enters. A light turns on inside giving a better impression of the scope of just how big the house is. It appears to be gargantuan in size, a mansion of sorts. The individual returns with a cardboard box filled with stuff. On the side of the box, the individual had marked “Collectibles”. This fellow however doesn’t treat them as very collectible items as he tosses the box into the snow on the ground. The man sits on the ground beside the mess he just made. He begins looking through the pile and starts mumbling to himself again.*[/b]
Nothing good can come when a man focuses only on his past successes. When a man becomes complacent with what he has accomplished he no longer strives for anything more. However when a man has had numerous successes it becomes difficult to just forget what they have done. It then becomes a necessity that a great defeat must be felt in order for certain people to realize that they must start over. Start from the beginning. And trust me when I tell you that I have finally encountered that great defeat that has made me realize that for too long now I’ve been living on the laurels of what I achieved years prior. For years I’ve been spinning my tires, stuck in the middle of an icy lake. Not gaining any traction. Not going anywhere. I’m changing this.
*The first item the man picks up from the pile he threw on the ground he immediately becomes fixated on. It’s a replica of the WFWF International Championship. The man runs his hand along the gold plate in an almost trance like state. Then, with title belt in hand he stands up and moves to the gas can. He begins pouring gasoline into the bucket he brought with him, being mindful not to slip as it could spell doom pouring gas so close to a fire. Though at the same time, the state of this man implies that he really wouldn’t be opposed to meeting a fiery demise. Finished emptying the gas can into the bucket, he tosses it aside. The individual then takes the championship title and dips it into the gasoline.[/b]
This replica championship remains to me a symbol of my first success in the world of professional wrestling. It now looms over my head like a dark cloud when people speak to me. Everyone throwing it in my face that I used to be the WFWF International Champion. Once upon a time some say. This championship belt represents quite possibly the biggest distraction in my career. But now I erase this from my mantle. I strike this out of my record books. I no longer consider myself a former champion, it’s been far too long since I held this or any title that I need this memory to disappear. I hereby purge this memory from my mind.
*The individual tosses the belt into the fire. The fire engulfs it immediately from all the gasoline it was covered in. The smell of burning leather fills the air. The man does not smile at the sight of the title burning; he just stares into the fire still in his trance like state. He breaks his stare and moves back to the pile of objects in the snow. The man pulls out another championship belt however this one isn’t a replica. It is the Moneyshot Title, a prized trophy of Justin Tyme when Justin was on his way out of the WFWF the first time. It’s a title that Justin Tyme held exclusively because it was a championship that he created for himself, unofficially recognized by the WFWF but nevertheless a trophy Tyme was proud of. But why does this man have possession of the title? The man once again walks over to the bucket of gasoline and dips the Moneyshot Title in it just as he had done to the International Title. He looks at this belt with more fondness than he did the International Title.*[/b]
This championship belt is the very symbol of arrogance. My arrogance. I longed for recognition from my peers and when I never got any of it, I forced them to recognize me. Unfortunately the only recognition I got was that of a no talent, pompous bunghole who couldn’t win a title so opted to make one for myself. This title represents my sense of entitlement that I simply have not earned. A sense of entitlement I have felt up until this very day. My arrogance would not allow me to see that I am really not entitled to anything, I have not earned anything, I have not actually proven myself on any stage. As of this moment I hereby destroy this idol to myself. I, Justin Tyme, by burning this Moneyshot Championship title acknowledge that I must prove myself once again. I’m starting over from the beginning.
*The man, who has revealed his identity to be Justin Tyme, tosses the Moneyshot Championship into the fire and, just like the International Championship, the belt is engulfed in flames. Justin appears to almost shed a tear as he watches the Moneyshot Title burn but eventually he fixes his gaze on the structure towering beside him. His mansion. Justin Tyme had been living in that mansion for the majority of his wrestling career. Justin shakes his head as he acknowledges his abode. He looks from the base of the house towards the roof almost at a loss for words. He closes his eyes again as though clearing his mind of any evil thoughts that may be running through his head. Upon opening his eyes, the look on his face indicates that he has become overwhelmed by bad intentions. He picks up the bucket of gasoline and starts off back towards the front door of his house. Inside of the mansion, hardwood flooring covers the main entrance. The ceiling stretches at least a good 15 feet into the air with a stained glass portrait of Justin plastered onto the ceiling. Straight ahead is a corridor that leads to the main living room, off to the right appears to be a kitchen. Through the kitchen windows you can see the glow of the fire from outside. As Justin stands in the middle of the main entrance of his house he closes his eyes again, a last effort to rid his mind of the unpure thoughts flooding it.*[/i]
This house is the last tie to my past life. This giant f*cking mansion is a tribute to my decadence. It’s a symbol to how I viewed myself as a deity. From that giant monstrosity of a portrait hanging over my head as I speak to just the scope of this place, it’s a sickening tribute to myself as a false idol. My lust for money paid for this place to compensate for everything else in my life that I have failed in. It is the last thing that links me to a treacherous past. A path that if I remained on would lead to my own self-destruction. It is the last object I must purge from my life. I have rid myself of bad memories, I have destroyed an idol to my arrogance and now I destroy the object of my greed. Start from the start.
*Justin heads back towards the door and dumps the gasoline from the bucket on the floor of the main entrance to his house. He reaches into his front pocket and pulls out a zippo lighter. Flicking it open and lighting it, he tosses it into the entrance and immediately a blaze is ignited in his house as he calmly walks back outside. He retrieves a few of the remaining objects from the pile that he had left earlier and moves a safe distance away from the mansion. He looks back at the house as it burned and for the first time this evening, he smiles. Staring as the orange glow slowly grows into every room of the house, Justin closes his eyes once again but with a smile still on his face.*[/i]
And now with all of this done I can rise from this great purging fire as a brand new individual. I no longer have any links to a past that haunted me every day. I no longer intend to be the man who flaunts my accomplishments from years past. I am no longer going to be the man who creates an idol to myself due to insecurities. I am not going to let my greed overwhelm me and change me. I am rising from the ashes of the decadent Justin Tyme and I stand before you now as the man who is simply going to change WFWF. I stand here with nothing else to lose now. No connections to anything. My one want is now to simply leave an indelible mark on this organization. I my sole goal is to create a little anarchy in the ranks of the WFWF. It’s unfortunate for my two opponents that they have been placed into this situation where they have nothing they can scout when it comes to Justin Tyme. If Mak Cross or Carter Contra planned on watching old Justin Tyme matches and knowing exactly what to anticipate the problems they will encounter will be enumerable. Rebuilt from the ground up, this Justin Tyme is a different animal. No amount of preparation can get you ready for what you will encounter at Revolution my friends. That goes for my tag team partner as well. Mickey Donovan I appreciate the fact that you are one hell of a talent and I respect that you are my tag team partner. But I also want you to know that I haven’t been a tag team wrestler for a very long time. I don’t typically get along well with a partner so I hope you look at this match the same way I am, as a way to leave a stamp on the WFWF and then we can go our separate ways. We both have our own separate goals… let us keep them separate.
*Justin looks down at the items he has in his hand. It includes one of his t-shirts, a pair of his ring gear and what appears to be a hospital admittance bracelet. He looks at the bracelet intently; the date on the bracelet is from the same day that he was admitted to the hospital following the beating that he endured from Cameron Stone. Another smile comes upon Justin’s face.*
Though there are some memories that shouldn’t be forgotten. This is one thing that I’m thinking I’m going to keep
*Justin shoves the hospital bracelet into his pocket, throws his t-shirt and ring gear over his shoulder and turns around and walks down the driveway from his mansion as it burns in the background.*[/i]
[ooc: I had this idea in my head about Justin purging all of his connections to his past to sort of focus on his future kinda thing but I have been so busy working lately that time flew by and I realized last night that today was the deadline so I had to kind of rush it out. I think it's a decent character development piece but not a good match RP... -_-]
Welcome ladies and gentlemen to the great outdoors!
*The man’s voice echoes for a bit and then just fades away and the silence that once was now returns again. The man, still staring into the darkness, now lowers his arms back to his side. He shifts his glance down to the fire and crouches down beside it. He picks up a stick set off to the side and tends the fire by mixing the coals around. The fire takes to the new branches that this man found and the flames get even bigger illuminating more of the surrounding area including a little bit more of the side of the building sitting right beside it. The man appears almost in a trance at the dancing flames and he begins almost muttering unintelligible words to himself but the eventually start forming sentences.*
You are witness to a great purging fire. Fire represents a horribly destructive end in one respect but in another respect fire represents a rebirth. Like a phoenix. I’m a phoenix. Start over. All over again.
*The man stands up again and stares into the fire as a look of disdain comes over his face. He does an abrupt turn on his heels and disappears back into the shadows. After a few uncomfortably quiet moments the individual returns with a gas can and a bucket in his hand. He places the gas can on the ground uncomfortably close to the inferno. He turns again and walks around the corner of the house and enters. A light turns on inside giving a better impression of the scope of just how big the house is. It appears to be gargantuan in size, a mansion of sorts. The individual returns with a cardboard box filled with stuff. On the side of the box, the individual had marked “Collectibles”. This fellow however doesn’t treat them as very collectible items as he tosses the box into the snow on the ground. The man sits on the ground beside the mess he just made. He begins looking through the pile and starts mumbling to himself again.*[/b]
Nothing good can come when a man focuses only on his past successes. When a man becomes complacent with what he has accomplished he no longer strives for anything more. However when a man has had numerous successes it becomes difficult to just forget what they have done. It then becomes a necessity that a great defeat must be felt in order for certain people to realize that they must start over. Start from the beginning. And trust me when I tell you that I have finally encountered that great defeat that has made me realize that for too long now I’ve been living on the laurels of what I achieved years prior. For years I’ve been spinning my tires, stuck in the middle of an icy lake. Not gaining any traction. Not going anywhere. I’m changing this.
*The first item the man picks up from the pile he threw on the ground he immediately becomes fixated on. It’s a replica of the WFWF International Championship. The man runs his hand along the gold plate in an almost trance like state. Then, with title belt in hand he stands up and moves to the gas can. He begins pouring gasoline into the bucket he brought with him, being mindful not to slip as it could spell doom pouring gas so close to a fire. Though at the same time, the state of this man implies that he really wouldn’t be opposed to meeting a fiery demise. Finished emptying the gas can into the bucket, he tosses it aside. The individual then takes the championship title and dips it into the gasoline.[/b]
This replica championship remains to me a symbol of my first success in the world of professional wrestling. It now looms over my head like a dark cloud when people speak to me. Everyone throwing it in my face that I used to be the WFWF International Champion. Once upon a time some say. This championship belt represents quite possibly the biggest distraction in my career. But now I erase this from my mantle. I strike this out of my record books. I no longer consider myself a former champion, it’s been far too long since I held this or any title that I need this memory to disappear. I hereby purge this memory from my mind.
*The individual tosses the belt into the fire. The fire engulfs it immediately from all the gasoline it was covered in. The smell of burning leather fills the air. The man does not smile at the sight of the title burning; he just stares into the fire still in his trance like state. He breaks his stare and moves back to the pile of objects in the snow. The man pulls out another championship belt however this one isn’t a replica. It is the Moneyshot Title, a prized trophy of Justin Tyme when Justin was on his way out of the WFWF the first time. It’s a title that Justin Tyme held exclusively because it was a championship that he created for himself, unofficially recognized by the WFWF but nevertheless a trophy Tyme was proud of. But why does this man have possession of the title? The man once again walks over to the bucket of gasoline and dips the Moneyshot Title in it just as he had done to the International Title. He looks at this belt with more fondness than he did the International Title.*[/b]
This championship belt is the very symbol of arrogance. My arrogance. I longed for recognition from my peers and when I never got any of it, I forced them to recognize me. Unfortunately the only recognition I got was that of a no talent, pompous bunghole who couldn’t win a title so opted to make one for myself. This title represents my sense of entitlement that I simply have not earned. A sense of entitlement I have felt up until this very day. My arrogance would not allow me to see that I am really not entitled to anything, I have not earned anything, I have not actually proven myself on any stage. As of this moment I hereby destroy this idol to myself. I, Justin Tyme, by burning this Moneyshot Championship title acknowledge that I must prove myself once again. I’m starting over from the beginning.
*The man, who has revealed his identity to be Justin Tyme, tosses the Moneyshot Championship into the fire and, just like the International Championship, the belt is engulfed in flames. Justin appears to almost shed a tear as he watches the Moneyshot Title burn but eventually he fixes his gaze on the structure towering beside him. His mansion. Justin Tyme had been living in that mansion for the majority of his wrestling career. Justin shakes his head as he acknowledges his abode. He looks from the base of the house towards the roof almost at a loss for words. He closes his eyes again as though clearing his mind of any evil thoughts that may be running through his head. Upon opening his eyes, the look on his face indicates that he has become overwhelmed by bad intentions. He picks up the bucket of gasoline and starts off back towards the front door of his house. Inside of the mansion, hardwood flooring covers the main entrance. The ceiling stretches at least a good 15 feet into the air with a stained glass portrait of Justin plastered onto the ceiling. Straight ahead is a corridor that leads to the main living room, off to the right appears to be a kitchen. Through the kitchen windows you can see the glow of the fire from outside. As Justin stands in the middle of the main entrance of his house he closes his eyes again, a last effort to rid his mind of the unpure thoughts flooding it.*[/i]
This house is the last tie to my past life. This giant f*cking mansion is a tribute to my decadence. It’s a symbol to how I viewed myself as a deity. From that giant monstrosity of a portrait hanging over my head as I speak to just the scope of this place, it’s a sickening tribute to myself as a false idol. My lust for money paid for this place to compensate for everything else in my life that I have failed in. It is the last thing that links me to a treacherous past. A path that if I remained on would lead to my own self-destruction. It is the last object I must purge from my life. I have rid myself of bad memories, I have destroyed an idol to my arrogance and now I destroy the object of my greed. Start from the start.
*Justin heads back towards the door and dumps the gasoline from the bucket on the floor of the main entrance to his house. He reaches into his front pocket and pulls out a zippo lighter. Flicking it open and lighting it, he tosses it into the entrance and immediately a blaze is ignited in his house as he calmly walks back outside. He retrieves a few of the remaining objects from the pile that he had left earlier and moves a safe distance away from the mansion. He looks back at the house as it burned and for the first time this evening, he smiles. Staring as the orange glow slowly grows into every room of the house, Justin closes his eyes once again but with a smile still on his face.*[/i]
And now with all of this done I can rise from this great purging fire as a brand new individual. I no longer have any links to a past that haunted me every day. I no longer intend to be the man who flaunts my accomplishments from years past. I am no longer going to be the man who creates an idol to myself due to insecurities. I am not going to let my greed overwhelm me and change me. I am rising from the ashes of the decadent Justin Tyme and I stand before you now as the man who is simply going to change WFWF. I stand here with nothing else to lose now. No connections to anything. My one want is now to simply leave an indelible mark on this organization. I my sole goal is to create a little anarchy in the ranks of the WFWF. It’s unfortunate for my two opponents that they have been placed into this situation where they have nothing they can scout when it comes to Justin Tyme. If Mak Cross or Carter Contra planned on watching old Justin Tyme matches and knowing exactly what to anticipate the problems they will encounter will be enumerable. Rebuilt from the ground up, this Justin Tyme is a different animal. No amount of preparation can get you ready for what you will encounter at Revolution my friends. That goes for my tag team partner as well. Mickey Donovan I appreciate the fact that you are one hell of a talent and I respect that you are my tag team partner. But I also want you to know that I haven’t been a tag team wrestler for a very long time. I don’t typically get along well with a partner so I hope you look at this match the same way I am, as a way to leave a stamp on the WFWF and then we can go our separate ways. We both have our own separate goals… let us keep them separate.
*Justin looks down at the items he has in his hand. It includes one of his t-shirts, a pair of his ring gear and what appears to be a hospital admittance bracelet. He looks at the bracelet intently; the date on the bracelet is from the same day that he was admitted to the hospital following the beating that he endured from Cameron Stone. Another smile comes upon Justin’s face.*
Though there are some memories that shouldn’t be forgotten. This is one thing that I’m thinking I’m going to keep
*Justin shoves the hospital bracelet into his pocket, throws his t-shirt and ring gear over his shoulder and turns around and walks down the driveway from his mansion as it burns in the background.*[/i]
[ooc: I had this idea in my head about Justin purging all of his connections to his past to sort of focus on his future kinda thing but I have been so busy working lately that time flew by and I realized last night that today was the deadline so I had to kind of rush it out. I think it's a decent character development piece but not a good match RP... -_-]
