Post by Deleted on Feb 7, 2018 21:52:13 GMT -5
*The scene opens up. The cameraman focuses on an older limoseen. An ornament at the hood has a chrome bat. At the side of this black limoseen we see red painting that looks more like blood splattered all around it.. The driver gets out of the front door, walks to the back of the car and opens the door. Carrion, one of SFT's reporters steps out of the limo. The man has a pale face with long black hair. His eyes are sunken in to the point where it appears as if he is on the border from being alive and dead. In his right hand, he holds a crystal goblet full to the brim of a dark red substance. Carrion takes a moment to look around at the small area that is dedicated to being "downtown Odon" before walking around the car. He takes a step up onto the sidewalk and looks into the heavy tinted windows of the Odon Tavern. Nothing can be seen besides a few neon lights inside that represent a respective alcohol. Carrion follows the gigantic window to the point where he comes across a large door. He reaches out with his free hand and opens the door before walking in. The bartender immediatly notices Carrion and says to him.*
Bartender: Hey, you're not alloud to bring in drinks from outside..
*Carrion approaches her and hands her a one hundred dollar bill and smirks before his frigid deep sounding voice says..*
Carrion: I doubt that you have anything of interest to me; But please, take this money and do what you want with it. Buy yourself something, give everyone in here a drink on me or place that in the drawer. Just let me keep my drink, it's a special blend..
*The bartender's eyes light up at the unknown possibility that she has planned for this money. She nods her head before smiling. The smirk on Carrion's face fleetingly vanished before our eyes as he began to look around the the bar. His eyes scan to the point where he see's a large sign that hangs from the ceiling. It says, "Tonight, witness another Bar Room Brawl. Where two men will be placed up against SFT's very own Drunken Brawler, Rumpke! The action starts at 1:30am, place your bets!" And then Carrion spots the drunk mess that is Rumpke who is sitting at the edge of the bar. He's dressed in a black shirt that has no sleeves. His short yet unusually thick and muscular arms rest ontop of the bar. For a man so small in height, his massive and scarred frame sticks out amongst the masses.*
*Carrion walks in Rumpke's direction. Rumpke grabs onto a full bottle of Kentucky Cornshine and takes a long drink as Carrion pulls out the empty seat next to the Drunken Brawler before sitting down and taking a quick drink from his goblet.. One the drink is consumed, Carrion clears his throat as his head slightly shakes. His mouth reveals an unusually long fang in the moment after consumation before he looks directly at Rumpke and says.*
Carrion: How do you feel champ?
*The word "champ" causes Rumpke to stop drinking, he sets the once full bottle down onto the bar and turns to look at the taller Carrion.*
Rumpke: Champ? What do you mean, champ?
*Carrion smirks as his black eyes stare into Rumpke's hazy eyes.*
Carrion: Alot of people are saying that this next match you're in is a slam dunk for you to become the next SFT Intercontinental Champion..
*Rumpke's face begins to turn red and his breathing slightly picks up before he finishes the remains of his bottle before holloring at the bartender.*
Rumpke: Tiffany, I need another!
*And then, Rumpke turns his attention back to the cold gaze of Carrion.*
Rumpke: Carrion, I am a lock in for this upcoming Bar Room Brawl at Titans but that doesn't mean that I'll accept the Intercontinental title. For one thing, it wouldn't be right for me to accept that given my position. Another point that I'd like to empasize is my latest World title run/defense. That didn't help me feel any better. I never succumbed to the so called accomplishment that should've supposedly been there in my head. Each time I went out to fight, it wasn't about retaining a title; Those punches and falls that swarmed my body were nothing more to keep me alive and pushing. These moments that were my recent past was meant to keep Steele at his heels but those notches in my life; They failed, he's still here and stronger than ever as he feeds off of my hatred for what I've became..
*Carrion takes another drink from his goblet as Tiffany hands Rumpke another full body of Kentucky Cornshine. Rumpke cracks the top off before chugging the bottle effortlessly before our eyes. Carrion takes a different route and chooses to savor the substance in his cup. The pale face'd reporter removes the goblet. A little of the dark crimoson colored thick fluid flows from his face. Carrion casually opens his mouth long enough to reveal two abnormally long fangs. He licks the thick red substance from his mouth. Then, Rumpke slams the empty bottle onto the table and it shatters. Shards of glass shred his hand as he stares at Carrion with a fiery glow coming from his eyes.*
Rumpke: Are you here for Steele? Trying to help him keep tabs on me?
*Carrion coldy says.*
Carrion: No, I'm here to do my job much like you'll soon do your job when you brawl against Jamo..
Rumpke: Do you really think that'll be a brawl?
*Carrion obsessively looks down at the blood that gushes out of Rumpke's mauled fist from the glass shards of a broken bottle before looking back into Rumpke's eyes.*
Carrion: What did you say? I must of been spacing out..
*A sadistic smile heavily sweeps across Rumpke's face before he says..*
Rumpke: This pretender named Jamo won't hold a candle to my fury. The guy thinks he's hardcore yet there isn't a hardcore bone in his body. His delusions of thinking of himself as some sort of a demigod is what's going to blindly lead him into this fight against me when he truly doesn't belong in the ring with an animal like me that very could cripple him in the end. His ignorance is leading him into my world. He wants to rely on a horror filled script of blood and the risen dead to further fuel him into entering this brawl. Jamo is following the illusion from those down bellow that he stands a chance. They want him to enter this match as quick as possible much like they want him to push me harder because these spirits; They know what I am just like the demons that I speak of.. These spirits know exactly what I'm capable of. They want me to send this misguided soul to hell so there'll be no more escape for Jamo. The last stand that'll fall in their favor but... I'll not be an instrument of their or Steele's. I am my own man that'll thwart their plan while standing my ground..
*Rumpke calls for another drink, the bartender is busy but she assures Rumpke that she'll get it to him soon with a simple nod. Meanwhile, Carrion looks on at Rumpke just as Rumpke's eyes lock onto Carrions.*
Carrion: What about the fight that's about to happen tonight? Why are you going to put your body through this? Aren't you worried about wearing yourself down against the Intercontinental Champion? A man that wants to bring about a new era and a new belt. Incase you haven't noticed, Jamo claims that you and him will bring about the new Hardcore age..
*Tiffany slides a fresh bottle to Rumpke but the bottle makes it as far as Carrions seat before it tips over. Carrion reaches out with his free hand to grab the bottle but in the blink of his cold eyes. The bottle is gone. He turns to look at Rumpke who has already started drinking from the elixir that fuels his miserable life.*
Carrion: That was a question.. I'm not paid to sit here and watch you drink.
*Rumpke stops drinking immediatly and looks at Carrion.*
Rumpke: Look here Carrion. You came here, on my time.. I'm not on SFT's time, I'm not being paid right now.. If I want to take a minute to drink, I will. As far as your question goes...
*Rumpke stops what he is saying before taking another drink from the bottle. This drink, doesn't last long..*
Rumpke: I've always fought underground, when the lights aren't on me. These fights have often been extremely brutal that would resemble a deathmatch. This fight that is about to happen tonight is no different than any other week. I've got to keep busy the only way I know how; Fighting, That's what I require. I must keep pushing myself to keep the voices at bay. The visions, they have to cease and this is the only way to keep a level head while I await a match in SFT..
Carrion: A match? Rumpke, this is going to be a fight, even worse; It'll be a brawl.
*A laugh explodes from Rumpke's scarred face as he smiles before taking another long drink.. Rumpke guzzles the contents of the bottle until the liquid is gone. Then he looks back at Carrions frigid gaze.*
Rumpke: You're suckered in also? Like many others you believe that this farce that is Jamo could ever hope to stand up to me? In a hardcore setting or better yet; A bar room brawl? An arena where I know the ins and outs. The place, and entity that it is; It feeds me more so than any other. There is no hope for this wannabe. I know that he believes that him and I will usher in a hardcore revolution to SFT but the facts point to this. I've never wanted to stop supporting what I am. I've always pushed for that extra removal of a stipulation. Ever since Harold fed Jamo's fire. Jamo, that oblivious fool took off with this hardcore revolution that he was going to co-lead but the sad thing is; Once again, Jamo fails to see how he is a lost pawn on the board.. He doesn't understand thinking ahead; Jamo only see's his horror story and thinks that makes him a god. This man, he is deluded and lost in his own world like I once was. He doesn't see that there are more options to the game.
*Rumpke pauses only for a moment before continueing on.*
Rumpke: I must not give anymore information on that for now.. For if I did, that'd eliminate a shock and awe expirence that we all want to see. Me not having restraint now in this time of need would put together the puzzle for him and I shouldn't do that. I owe all of you more than that. Each and everyone that follows SFT deserves more than me skipping to an inevitable ending.. But as for another question that you asked me.
*Rumpke turns his gaze from the presumedly undead prescense of Carrion to face the camera. The many scars that have been painted across his face much like a roadmap tells us that this man is not an ordinary man. He obviously has his mental pain yet has also succumbed himself to many physical atrocities..*
Rumpke: Tonight, is something that I must do to appease "those" who yearn to pull my strings. This is a chance that I've got to take. I have to see this through for myself. I must see and experience the calm waters that rival that of a lifeless pond through a day with no wind. Hot on top from the sun yet the frigid waters must remain below where the heat can not reach. I've no longer got the wind in my favor. It can't help me mix those feelings any longer. So I've got to do what I can Carrion; To force those emotions to collide. They must mix and while many may question my fortitude. They will not rule me. I'll call the shots of my own life. I know what is best for my mentality. That's why all of you see my chains of honor that keep me pushing beyond.. That's what makes me a fighter Carrion. I don't come out and wave my wand that could produce the living dead that'll bow to me. I'm not going to tell any of you that I'm worthy to be a champion and expect anyone of you to believe it.. My confidence, it doesn't have to strike any of my opponents down. Yet many of them fall on their knees to that venom. That is not my fault. I'm ready for a fight either way, and I don't care what they feel. I've got my own source that feeds my soul. Their ethnicity and hard times; They mean nothing to me because I've battled my own hard times every single day Carrion. I live this life, it is a reality to me and the chains. They do their best to hold me back and even though I feel as if I'm a victim. I'll never give into those chains until death has it's unwavering way with me. If tonight is that night then let it come quickly. Let me experience a relief from the misery that I feel everyday of my life. Yet if tonight, is not the night where I fall to the sycthe; If I'm able to walk and represent even the smallest form of life. Then everyone of you should expect a thunderous explosion which will rattles the bolts that hold together the pretender known as Jamo. It's a possibility that I'll enter that bar room brawl with half of my strength but even then; I'll be perfectly capable of taking that monument that he holds close to his heart too transform it into a greater form of what it was while he held onto it. This little "shit" known as Jamo.. Yes, quote me on that, for the record; I said little shit.. This pathetic symbol of a nightmare that embraces the darkness and that which should not be spoken of. He wants to scare every single one of you. That's his imagenary charm here in SFT but he's only fooling himself if he believes that I fear him. His warcry sounds much like a kittens purr waiting to feel a persons attention. The only attention he'll recieve from the jaws of this monster is something that'll open his personality up to a completely new experience. One that'll leave his mind frozen when he should be quick. There'll be no zombies dancing around in the bar room much like his mockery of this battleground that he will learn to respect. There'll be plenty of his own blood to drink once he wakes up. Jamo wants to sell this place, this battle short but he don't understand what true evil is capable of. This pretender doesn't understand that evil comes in many forms, and all of them; They mask themselves to seem like a good time. This "dumbass" is walking into the web that I spun before him. He's following me, just like I wanted. History, is repeating itself just like it did with Glenn when he held the World Title and that fool Jamo; He can't comprehend that it's happening; The idiot is doomed to repeat this history but out of the ashes; There will be something new and invigorating that'll come from it... It'll be a birth of something that is far more sadistic than Jamo and I combined.. While he wants to take credit for this. People will understand who the true mastermind was behind this awakening, just give it time Carrion and you'll see just like you'll believe. All of you will... They will then understand who was used as the grunt much like they will see who is the method behind this madness.
*The clock struck 1:30 am and Tiffany grabbed the microphone.*
Tiffany: It's that time everyone. Hold onto your beverages, hit the jukebox for more music because moments from now, you'll no longer be able to unless you dare to enter the realm of the drunken brawler and his associates!
Rumpke: Carrion, it's time for you to leave or hang out if you want. If you choose to linger; I recommend you and that leech of yours hang out over there.
*Rumpke points to a place in the bar where everyone staying to watch positions theirself. Not that it's out of bounds but it'll give a guideline for the three combatants.. Rumpke snatches Carion's half full goblet from his hands before chugging that thick crimson like liquid down his throat. Once the eclipse, the final drop hit his stomach; The man known as Rumpke rolled his eyes back into his head. An unexplained shadow surrounded this man as he stood up looking at his opponents. The short and stalky Rumpke who is already covered with many scars, grabbed two of his three empty bottles before gripping them tightly. He holds them up in a fashion that dares one of the two if not both of the fighters to come at him. And at that moment; The scene fades to black with letters forming a sentence that says..*
