Post by The Gangsta on Oct 23, 2015 22:57:13 GMT -5
Ante Whitner RP
Chapter 1 of 3: Redemption
“From the moment I buried the dagger in him, I knew, deep down in my heart, I had broken the long curse forged against me.”
-------------------
“Cursed”
I let emotions get ahold of me. I broke free from the world, lost all touch on reality. I was in that non-existent void that the ancient stories and myths once prophesized about: Purgatory.
I was in limbo, smashed together by two massive worlds, colliding in an ultimate battle between good and evil. I was not the good, nor was I the evil.
I was the truth.
I became comatose with pride and lust. I craved for gold, just like all natural human beings. But, my case was the rarest of the rare, unseen in thousands of years.
I became obsessed.
I became the “mad king” every one feared. I used to think all manifestations of fear were forged against me. Instead, I became the fear. I embodied and embraced it.
I became an underlying factor of the great war between good and evil. Fear was the truth to it all. The war was not fought for land or wealth. It was fought to break the curse summoned upon me.
I saw the two gods, stabbing each other with excaliburs made of the most exquisite and precious metals in existence. Good fought to break this curse and rule the realm by his own decree. Evil fought to defend their divine right to the crown.
I witnessed, as time passed, the embodiment of good soon became an embodiment of corruption. He put his godlike powers into me and attempted to free me of my eternal curse. It was never broken. And it never could be.
I plundered the war, bringing it to a permanent halt, under the alarming circumstances that had been developing. Evil vanished into his native eternal realm. And Good remained in the earth realm; but, for all of the wrong reasons.
I began a new war. A battle between corruption and truth.
I molded into “the fearful truth”, as many would call me. I broke free of the Purgatory, but still faced a harsh challenge ahead of me.
I was facing a god.
I had to break the curse. I had to expose this god of “Good” of what he has become. I needed assistance, but no one was there to answer the call.
I was facing him alone.
I remembered the very origin of my curse; solitude. No gold equals no cause. But, I had to forget it all. I had to forget about the memories. All of those moments were lost. And I did it for the true Good.
I was Good.
I had transferred my curse into my ultimate weapon. I let the sudden burst of emptiness and destruction quell in the blade of my sword. I had stepped onto the battlefield, facing the most difficult challenge of my life. It was life or death, as many would say.
I was ready.
I lunged at him with a sword in hand. He fought back with frivolous anger and scorn. I fought with justice and truth. I struck my sword multiple times before it finally sank into his flesh.
I was in for a long war. It was going to be a long and tedious war, that all derived from the biblical tale of good versus evil. Evil became non-existent and it was time to re-write everything.
I unleashed profound abilities I never knew I would possess. I escaped his wrath with extreme swiftness and intellect. I struck my sword at his weakest points; the legs and the head.
I knew that this god of “Good” was a hoax. His mind was set on lust and euphoria, not on the divine right to rule. His legs were stuck in the intricate sand of the battlefield before him. I knew where to strike and when to strike.
I struck him a few more times in the legs and his head. I saw the wounds, that marvelously healed themselves, suddenly grow deeper, as if his powers were rendered useless.
I heard the screams of agony and pain. I moved to the phase in which I would strike everywhere. I never ran out of stamina. I felt myself become Good. But, I also felt myself become Evil.
I found myself in Purgatory again, without the presence of the “Good” god. I spent my time, recollecting my thoughts on how to slay him. When I was ready, I stepped back into the game.
I was beaten, kissing the dirt. Blood rushed from my nose and ears as I felt the god lift me up. He struck me down with nasty blows of his righteous fists. But I refused to give up.
I looked from my sword. I crawled to my sword in the distance. The grueling and repeating kicks of the god made me lose my train of thought. Forget the sword, I’ll kill him with my bare hands.
I climbed up his dominating statue and started to gouge his eyeballs. I broke his nose and knocked a couple of teeth out. I saw him suffer. I felt my spirits lifting.
I hopped off of his body. Since he was stunned, it was my opportunity to end it all. It was time to define history as a whole. I grabbed my sword and with all of my might and godlike strength…
I slayed the god.
I watched him kneel to the floor, blood spewing out of many different places of his body. I felt my soul lift out of my mouth and pour into the dusk sky. The dark smoke screamed in agony as it had been slain too. I knelt to the ground right next to him. I looked at him straight in the eye and laughed at my great accomplishment. His unearthly presence soon faded away as I stood up to my feet.
I am god now.
-------------------
“A New Path”
I laughed and cried after I stood victorious. It was a lifelong dream to escape my curse. I laughed at my achievement, but I also cried. I cried because I knew that becoming a god would require extraordinary effort to fight everyone else. As a god, you have to defend your divine right.
I felt more curses forge inside of me. However, these new curses were not as burdening as my previous one. They made me stronger. They acted almost as battle scars; scars from the day I slayed a god.
I walked the tumultuous road to uncertainty. I saw lights in the distance. Bright, flashing, with a significant gold hue.
I knew it was finally coming back to me. The crown. It felt so close to my hands, but in reality, it was too far out of my reach. I moved past my previous crown. And it was time to conquer another one.
I never felt like a hero nor a villain. I felt rather as a guiding force. A light that others would follow. I set a precedent with a certain crown I used to hold. And now, others are following that same path.
I follow a different path now. According to the history books, being a god slayer guarantees gold. I was following the path to gold. Again.
I relinquished my previous title. I became cursed and fell into the traps of Purgatory. But, it was that time again to place a crown upon my head and declare myself...King.
I was a god slayer, soon to be a king. I felt that inescapable feeling of pride and lust. Again. I felt I was doomed. Again.
I vowed to myself and the people I would be ruling. It would be a much larger group of people with more different opinions and ideas.
I have the divine right to rule over these new people. It was my goal to not fail, like I did last time. I have the world in my hands. A world connected with each other by the golden rule of yours truly.
I can’t just grasp the crown right away though. I must earn it, even though I slayed an almighty god of “Good.” It just isn’t good enough to prove that a former tyrant should rule another realm again.
I must set another goal for myself. Prove my worth, anytime a challenger steps up to the plate. I will grasp my mighty god-slaying sword and strike anyone down to prove my worth.
I will be King.
I promise.
-------------------
“Valhalla Calls”
Jon Gotch. The Warsaw War Hammer.
Jon Gotch. The man with one win to his name.
Jon Gotch. Ante Whitner’s bitch.
The black sun is setting. Odin is proud. Thor has guided you to victory for the very first time. It’s your victory tour. All of the Viking land you and your ancestors lived on celebrated your homecoming. Many feasts were prepared, many hookers traveled far and wide to f*ck you, and the most important of all, Valhalla called your name.
That’s right. Odin himself wants to see you enter Val f*ckin’ Halla as a hero to the Asgardian people. You’re a martyr to the Viking cause and for that, Odin is extremely proud. But, the people, including Odin and Thor, still haven’t forgotten the dismay you brought onto them.
It all started at End Game. Triple threat match between yourself, Stan “The F*ckin’ Man” McMann, and “Your Random Hero”, Yukio Blaze. Stan McMann stands tall and you and Yukio look like f*cking chumps.
But it just continues. Onto Ascension where you and a f*ckbuddy take on Lucas Crowe and who again? Oh yeah, you and good ol’ Axel Thornstowe got your asses whooped by Lucas Crowe and “Johnny Hess.” Wow.
Numero tres. At New Dawn, Samael Ahriman versus Jon Gotch. A fish thrown into a great white shark’s feeding pit. Not only did my good friend f*ckin’ destroy you, but he did it with another man’s move. At this point, you should just quit.
But you didn’t. Onto Choke Hold we go. If I recall, the stoned f*cker and I didn’t get it done, and neither did you and Axel. In fact, the vile slug of a human being made me smash your head into a million f*ckin’ bits.
Somehow, you get your brains sewed back into your f*ckin’ skull and return at Burnout. And to no surprise, Joe Magnet destroys you as usual.
But that all changed at Into the Pit, where you finally pulled a win over a rookie. Yippee, hoo-f*ckin’-ray.
This is your life Jon. Loss after loss, the hate consumed you. I can relate to that you Polish f*ck. I learned to embrace the hate and at the right moment, I completely destroyed it.
Don’t get me wrong, I do have respect for you. You came out, every single week, and put up a fight against many opponents. Although you lost pretty much all of those matches, you still found a way to challenge yourself and improve. Props to you.
But, when it comes down to facing me, there is no respect. I respect what you tried to do, but I will NOT respect you in the ring at Borderlines. I stated it, loud and clear, at Into the Pit. I will beat anyone and everyone who dares to step in my way.
And I will do it to prove my worth. I’m back at square one Jon. Keep chasing that National title that I made relevant again and I’ll keep chasing the International title.
At Borderlines, you will become victim number one. Consider yourself worthy of being my first victim, but cherish it as you will. Be prepared, study Ulysses, or whatever Norse sh*t you’re into.
The Bloodied Eagle has returned. And Valhalla is calling my name.
Their patron saint has arrived.
Chapter 1 of 3: Redemption
“From the moment I buried the dagger in him, I knew, deep down in my heart, I had broken the long curse forged against me.”
-------------------
“Cursed”
I let emotions get ahold of me. I broke free from the world, lost all touch on reality. I was in that non-existent void that the ancient stories and myths once prophesized about: Purgatory.
I was in limbo, smashed together by two massive worlds, colliding in an ultimate battle between good and evil. I was not the good, nor was I the evil.
I was the truth.
I became comatose with pride and lust. I craved for gold, just like all natural human beings. But, my case was the rarest of the rare, unseen in thousands of years.
I became obsessed.
I became the “mad king” every one feared. I used to think all manifestations of fear were forged against me. Instead, I became the fear. I embodied and embraced it.
I became an underlying factor of the great war between good and evil. Fear was the truth to it all. The war was not fought for land or wealth. It was fought to break the curse summoned upon me.
I saw the two gods, stabbing each other with excaliburs made of the most exquisite and precious metals in existence. Good fought to break this curse and rule the realm by his own decree. Evil fought to defend their divine right to the crown.
I witnessed, as time passed, the embodiment of good soon became an embodiment of corruption. He put his godlike powers into me and attempted to free me of my eternal curse. It was never broken. And it never could be.
I plundered the war, bringing it to a permanent halt, under the alarming circumstances that had been developing. Evil vanished into his native eternal realm. And Good remained in the earth realm; but, for all of the wrong reasons.
I began a new war. A battle between corruption and truth.
I molded into “the fearful truth”, as many would call me. I broke free of the Purgatory, but still faced a harsh challenge ahead of me.
I was facing a god.
I had to break the curse. I had to expose this god of “Good” of what he has become. I needed assistance, but no one was there to answer the call.
I was facing him alone.
I remembered the very origin of my curse; solitude. No gold equals no cause. But, I had to forget it all. I had to forget about the memories. All of those moments were lost. And I did it for the true Good.
I was Good.
I had transferred my curse into my ultimate weapon. I let the sudden burst of emptiness and destruction quell in the blade of my sword. I had stepped onto the battlefield, facing the most difficult challenge of my life. It was life or death, as many would say.
I was ready.
I lunged at him with a sword in hand. He fought back with frivolous anger and scorn. I fought with justice and truth. I struck my sword multiple times before it finally sank into his flesh.
I was in for a long war. It was going to be a long and tedious war, that all derived from the biblical tale of good versus evil. Evil became non-existent and it was time to re-write everything.
I unleashed profound abilities I never knew I would possess. I escaped his wrath with extreme swiftness and intellect. I struck my sword at his weakest points; the legs and the head.
I knew that this god of “Good” was a hoax. His mind was set on lust and euphoria, not on the divine right to rule. His legs were stuck in the intricate sand of the battlefield before him. I knew where to strike and when to strike.
I struck him a few more times in the legs and his head. I saw the wounds, that marvelously healed themselves, suddenly grow deeper, as if his powers were rendered useless.
I heard the screams of agony and pain. I moved to the phase in which I would strike everywhere. I never ran out of stamina. I felt myself become Good. But, I also felt myself become Evil.
I found myself in Purgatory again, without the presence of the “Good” god. I spent my time, recollecting my thoughts on how to slay him. When I was ready, I stepped back into the game.
I was beaten, kissing the dirt. Blood rushed from my nose and ears as I felt the god lift me up. He struck me down with nasty blows of his righteous fists. But I refused to give up.
I looked from my sword. I crawled to my sword in the distance. The grueling and repeating kicks of the god made me lose my train of thought. Forget the sword, I’ll kill him with my bare hands.
I climbed up his dominating statue and started to gouge his eyeballs. I broke his nose and knocked a couple of teeth out. I saw him suffer. I felt my spirits lifting.
I hopped off of his body. Since he was stunned, it was my opportunity to end it all. It was time to define history as a whole. I grabbed my sword and with all of my might and godlike strength…
I slayed the god.
I watched him kneel to the floor, blood spewing out of many different places of his body. I felt my soul lift out of my mouth and pour into the dusk sky. The dark smoke screamed in agony as it had been slain too. I knelt to the ground right next to him. I looked at him straight in the eye and laughed at my great accomplishment. His unearthly presence soon faded away as I stood up to my feet.
I am god now.
-------------------
“A New Path”
I laughed and cried after I stood victorious. It was a lifelong dream to escape my curse. I laughed at my achievement, but I also cried. I cried because I knew that becoming a god would require extraordinary effort to fight everyone else. As a god, you have to defend your divine right.
I felt more curses forge inside of me. However, these new curses were not as burdening as my previous one. They made me stronger. They acted almost as battle scars; scars from the day I slayed a god.
I walked the tumultuous road to uncertainty. I saw lights in the distance. Bright, flashing, with a significant gold hue.
I knew it was finally coming back to me. The crown. It felt so close to my hands, but in reality, it was too far out of my reach. I moved past my previous crown. And it was time to conquer another one.
I never felt like a hero nor a villain. I felt rather as a guiding force. A light that others would follow. I set a precedent with a certain crown I used to hold. And now, others are following that same path.
I follow a different path now. According to the history books, being a god slayer guarantees gold. I was following the path to gold. Again.
I relinquished my previous title. I became cursed and fell into the traps of Purgatory. But, it was that time again to place a crown upon my head and declare myself...King.
I was a god slayer, soon to be a king. I felt that inescapable feeling of pride and lust. Again. I felt I was doomed. Again.
I vowed to myself and the people I would be ruling. It would be a much larger group of people with more different opinions and ideas.
I have the divine right to rule over these new people. It was my goal to not fail, like I did last time. I have the world in my hands. A world connected with each other by the golden rule of yours truly.
I can’t just grasp the crown right away though. I must earn it, even though I slayed an almighty god of “Good.” It just isn’t good enough to prove that a former tyrant should rule another realm again.
I must set another goal for myself. Prove my worth, anytime a challenger steps up to the plate. I will grasp my mighty god-slaying sword and strike anyone down to prove my worth.
I will be King.
I promise.
-------------------
“Valhalla Calls”
Jon Gotch. The Warsaw War Hammer.
Jon Gotch. The man with one win to his name.
Jon Gotch. Ante Whitner’s bitch.
The black sun is setting. Odin is proud. Thor has guided you to victory for the very first time. It’s your victory tour. All of the Viking land you and your ancestors lived on celebrated your homecoming. Many feasts were prepared, many hookers traveled far and wide to f*ck you, and the most important of all, Valhalla called your name.
That’s right. Odin himself wants to see you enter Val f*ckin’ Halla as a hero to the Asgardian people. You’re a martyr to the Viking cause and for that, Odin is extremely proud. But, the people, including Odin and Thor, still haven’t forgotten the dismay you brought onto them.
It all started at End Game. Triple threat match between yourself, Stan “The F*ckin’ Man” McMann, and “Your Random Hero”, Yukio Blaze. Stan McMann stands tall and you and Yukio look like f*cking chumps.
But it just continues. Onto Ascension where you and a f*ckbuddy take on Lucas Crowe and who again? Oh yeah, you and good ol’ Axel Thornstowe got your asses whooped by Lucas Crowe and “Johnny Hess.” Wow.
Numero tres. At New Dawn, Samael Ahriman versus Jon Gotch. A fish thrown into a great white shark’s feeding pit. Not only did my good friend f*ckin’ destroy you, but he did it with another man’s move. At this point, you should just quit.
But you didn’t. Onto Choke Hold we go. If I recall, the stoned f*cker and I didn’t get it done, and neither did you and Axel. In fact, the vile slug of a human being made me smash your head into a million f*ckin’ bits.
Somehow, you get your brains sewed back into your f*ckin’ skull and return at Burnout. And to no surprise, Joe Magnet destroys you as usual.
But that all changed at Into the Pit, where you finally pulled a win over a rookie. Yippee, hoo-f*ckin’-ray.
This is your life Jon. Loss after loss, the hate consumed you. I can relate to that you Polish f*ck. I learned to embrace the hate and at the right moment, I completely destroyed it.
Don’t get me wrong, I do have respect for you. You came out, every single week, and put up a fight against many opponents. Although you lost pretty much all of those matches, you still found a way to challenge yourself and improve. Props to you.
But, when it comes down to facing me, there is no respect. I respect what you tried to do, but I will NOT respect you in the ring at Borderlines. I stated it, loud and clear, at Into the Pit. I will beat anyone and everyone who dares to step in my way.
And I will do it to prove my worth. I’m back at square one Jon. Keep chasing that National title that I made relevant again and I’ll keep chasing the International title.
At Borderlines, you will become victim number one. Consider yourself worthy of being my first victim, but cherish it as you will. Be prepared, study Ulysses, or whatever Norse sh*t you’re into.
The Bloodied Eagle has returned. And Valhalla is calling my name.
Their patron saint has arrived.
