Post by Tempestad on Sept 19, 2010 2:27:11 GMT -6
We open on Tempestad out on a balcony. This time, he's sitting in the window of one of the boxes at the Staples Center. Below, the ring stands assembled and ready for the pay-per-view. The Xtreme Title rests on a table behind him, glinting in the dim lighting of the arena.
“Joe, I apologize. You did earn your shot. I guess I was just annoyed that you attacked me. You beat James, and if everything had gone how it might have last week, it could have been Evan Andrews, Joe Ragnal and Tempestad for the Unified X Titles. I'm not saying it would have been, but it is a possibility. It's one that I actually prefer over this, to be honest. James is a wildcard that I don't want to have to deal with. Even though we have all counted him out, he could still surprise us.”
He shrugs, getting to his feet so that he's crouching in the windowsill. Temp uses his right hand to keep himself stable, his left forearm resting on his left thigh. Even with that slight reinforcement, he feels the adrenaline rush and heartbeat spike that the prospect of a fall from an extreme height brings.
“Joe, you still remain the focus of my worries. You have the most motivation, it seems. You have the most drive to win, you want this win more than either of the other two. Understand that I harbor no ill will towards you. Even if you win, I will accept my defeat. I'll want a shot at you, to be sure. But I will not be completely upset if you manage to best me. I will, however, put everything I have towards making sure this never comes to pass.”
Tempestad drops back into the box, sliding the window closed. With the immediate danger removed, his heart rate begins to normalize and he is able to relax somewhat.
“Ragnal, you are a true high-flyer. You are what the X-Division Title represented for so long. I would have enjoyed seeing you representing it as her Champion. Unfortunately, the title dies with a man who is decidedly NOT X-Division. James Franklin Karn is the antithesis of the X-Division. He is no high-flyer. Limits are all he seems to be about. The day I see JFK invoke the spirit of the X-Division pioneers in his matches is the day I remove my mask.”
Temp snorts derisively, walking over and listening by the door. Once he's sure nobody's coming, he flips on the light, blinking and covering his eyes as he adjusts to the sudden illumination.
“Karn is demotivated and lackluster. He showed competitive spirit in his match with me last week, but this...he just seems like he doesn't care anymore. The fact that he hasn't said a word all week makes me think that either he's been spending this entire time training, or he really doesn't care. Either way can be used to my advantage. I can use his singleminded focus against him and direct him like a charging bull away from me. If he doesn't care, then his apathy effectively eliminates him from the equation. I win both ways.”
Temp walks over to what appears to be a mini-fridge in the corner, kneeling down and cracking it open. Upon finding that it's empty, he swings it back shut, disappointed. Temp shakes his head, standing back up.
“Getting to put James down is going to be satisfying. For all of the Young Guns' talk about being superior, he has been one of the most lackluster champions this company has ever seen. I don't think he's won a match since becoming champion. For a man who claims to be the inherent superior of every opponent he comes across, you don't seem very superior. Your sin is greed, James. You are greedier than I have ever seen, and your greed is a fatal flaw. I...”
He sighs, throwing his hands up. Tempestad leans back against the wall, shaking his head and sighing to himself.
“I just can't work with nothing. I think I expended myself where it comes to James last week. I do not think I can continue to improvise like this. He sucks, to be frank. I can't stand to hear the man speak, which is quite the blessing when it comes to this week. On the other hand, the man is a human vacuum. He sucks the life out of any match and makes it almost intolerable to watch. I sincerely will not mind being able to put him through a table.”
Temp walks off the wall, looking over to the Xtreme Title. His heart sinks as he realizes that he's in the last few hours of not only his reign as Xtreme Champion, but the belt's very existence as a legitimate title.
“Evan Andrews...Evan, you too have been mysteriously silent until recently. Unlike James, you actually have passion. In fact, I might say you have too much passion. You come to the brink of madness at times, and I find myself wondering if you will be able to pull yourself back. Your sin, if you truly have one, would be wrath. I do not believe you do, however. I do not take it upon myself to decree the sins of others anymore. Judgment leaves the judge open. It is a two-way street, and it is one that I do not wish to walk.”
Temp strains his ears, trying not to make any noise. He slowly inches over to the light switch, flipping it off and hiding out of sight of the door. The sound of footsteps echo in the hall outside as presumably a member of the cleaning staff walks by. When he's satisfied that nobody is nearby once more, he sighs, creeping over by the belt.
“Evan, you would have been the man to face me individually. I would have welcomed this challenge. With Karn not having the opportunity to interfere, I believe we could have had a match that would put our prior one to shame. I would have been honored to fight you, and with that fight we would have continued to reinforce the wondrous history of the title. Alas, it is not to be. You have your chance to start a new lineage, however. This is something that only comes along once in a great while. To be able to cement your place in the record books, forever...to be able to call yourself the FIRST X Champion...what a great opportunity. I expect the best out of you, Evan.”
He picks up the title, pulling out the same simple cloth shroud as before and wrapping the title up in it, muting its reflective properties. Temp tucks it under one arm, smirking to himself.
“And thus we come full circle to Joe Ragnal. Joe, once more I can only offer my congratulations on your successes. I suppose that I can also say that I am sorry that you have lost all custody of your children. I know what it is like to be separated from those you love. I can only say that you are making a better effort at staying connected than I did. That...that is something that I will forever be ashamed of. Joe, in that realm you are a better man than I. This match will be interesting. Let your innovation shine through. Let's...let's have some FUN.”
Tempestad walks towards the door, pausing with his right hand on the doorknob and his left arm still holding his title belt. He sighs, looking back at the arena and the ring. In a short time, he will be fighting for his life out there with the three other men. Temp's right hand moves from the handle to unconsciously clutch his rosary.
“I wish you gentlemen good luck, for what it is worth. Some of you will not return that sentiment. Others may. What matters to me is that I get your full competitive capabilities. As I said before, I would rather not face a man than face him if he only is halfway committed. God be with you, gentlemen. And may He have mercy on you.”
Temp moves to open the door again, but his eyes widen as his phone buzzes, indicating that he has a message. Temp quickly fishes it out of his pocket, thankful he kept it on silent. He opens the door and reads the message as he steps out...only to break into a run as the door swings shut.
“Joe, I apologize. You did earn your shot. I guess I was just annoyed that you attacked me. You beat James, and if everything had gone how it might have last week, it could have been Evan Andrews, Joe Ragnal and Tempestad for the Unified X Titles. I'm not saying it would have been, but it is a possibility. It's one that I actually prefer over this, to be honest. James is a wildcard that I don't want to have to deal with. Even though we have all counted him out, he could still surprise us.”
He shrugs, getting to his feet so that he's crouching in the windowsill. Temp uses his right hand to keep himself stable, his left forearm resting on his left thigh. Even with that slight reinforcement, he feels the adrenaline rush and heartbeat spike that the prospect of a fall from an extreme height brings.
“Joe, you still remain the focus of my worries. You have the most motivation, it seems. You have the most drive to win, you want this win more than either of the other two. Understand that I harbor no ill will towards you. Even if you win, I will accept my defeat. I'll want a shot at you, to be sure. But I will not be completely upset if you manage to best me. I will, however, put everything I have towards making sure this never comes to pass.”
Tempestad drops back into the box, sliding the window closed. With the immediate danger removed, his heart rate begins to normalize and he is able to relax somewhat.
“Ragnal, you are a true high-flyer. You are what the X-Division Title represented for so long. I would have enjoyed seeing you representing it as her Champion. Unfortunately, the title dies with a man who is decidedly NOT X-Division. James Franklin Karn is the antithesis of the X-Division. He is no high-flyer. Limits are all he seems to be about. The day I see JFK invoke the spirit of the X-Division pioneers in his matches is the day I remove my mask.”
Temp snorts derisively, walking over and listening by the door. Once he's sure nobody's coming, he flips on the light, blinking and covering his eyes as he adjusts to the sudden illumination.
“Karn is demotivated and lackluster. He showed competitive spirit in his match with me last week, but this...he just seems like he doesn't care anymore. The fact that he hasn't said a word all week makes me think that either he's been spending this entire time training, or he really doesn't care. Either way can be used to my advantage. I can use his singleminded focus against him and direct him like a charging bull away from me. If he doesn't care, then his apathy effectively eliminates him from the equation. I win both ways.”
Temp walks over to what appears to be a mini-fridge in the corner, kneeling down and cracking it open. Upon finding that it's empty, he swings it back shut, disappointed. Temp shakes his head, standing back up.
“Getting to put James down is going to be satisfying. For all of the Young Guns' talk about being superior, he has been one of the most lackluster champions this company has ever seen. I don't think he's won a match since becoming champion. For a man who claims to be the inherent superior of every opponent he comes across, you don't seem very superior. Your sin is greed, James. You are greedier than I have ever seen, and your greed is a fatal flaw. I...”
He sighs, throwing his hands up. Tempestad leans back against the wall, shaking his head and sighing to himself.
“I just can't work with nothing. I think I expended myself where it comes to James last week. I do not think I can continue to improvise like this. He sucks, to be frank. I can't stand to hear the man speak, which is quite the blessing when it comes to this week. On the other hand, the man is a human vacuum. He sucks the life out of any match and makes it almost intolerable to watch. I sincerely will not mind being able to put him through a table.”
Temp walks off the wall, looking over to the Xtreme Title. His heart sinks as he realizes that he's in the last few hours of not only his reign as Xtreme Champion, but the belt's very existence as a legitimate title.
“Evan Andrews...Evan, you too have been mysteriously silent until recently. Unlike James, you actually have passion. In fact, I might say you have too much passion. You come to the brink of madness at times, and I find myself wondering if you will be able to pull yourself back. Your sin, if you truly have one, would be wrath. I do not believe you do, however. I do not take it upon myself to decree the sins of others anymore. Judgment leaves the judge open. It is a two-way street, and it is one that I do not wish to walk.”
Temp strains his ears, trying not to make any noise. He slowly inches over to the light switch, flipping it off and hiding out of sight of the door. The sound of footsteps echo in the hall outside as presumably a member of the cleaning staff walks by. When he's satisfied that nobody is nearby once more, he sighs, creeping over by the belt.
“Evan, you would have been the man to face me individually. I would have welcomed this challenge. With Karn not having the opportunity to interfere, I believe we could have had a match that would put our prior one to shame. I would have been honored to fight you, and with that fight we would have continued to reinforce the wondrous history of the title. Alas, it is not to be. You have your chance to start a new lineage, however. This is something that only comes along once in a great while. To be able to cement your place in the record books, forever...to be able to call yourself the FIRST X Champion...what a great opportunity. I expect the best out of you, Evan.”
He picks up the title, pulling out the same simple cloth shroud as before and wrapping the title up in it, muting its reflective properties. Temp tucks it under one arm, smirking to himself.
“And thus we come full circle to Joe Ragnal. Joe, once more I can only offer my congratulations on your successes. I suppose that I can also say that I am sorry that you have lost all custody of your children. I know what it is like to be separated from those you love. I can only say that you are making a better effort at staying connected than I did. That...that is something that I will forever be ashamed of. Joe, in that realm you are a better man than I. This match will be interesting. Let your innovation shine through. Let's...let's have some FUN.”
Tempestad walks towards the door, pausing with his right hand on the doorknob and his left arm still holding his title belt. He sighs, looking back at the arena and the ring. In a short time, he will be fighting for his life out there with the three other men. Temp's right hand moves from the handle to unconsciously clutch his rosary.
“I wish you gentlemen good luck, for what it is worth. Some of you will not return that sentiment. Others may. What matters to me is that I get your full competitive capabilities. As I said before, I would rather not face a man than face him if he only is halfway committed. God be with you, gentlemen. And may He have mercy on you.”
Temp moves to open the door again, but his eyes widen as his phone buzzes, indicating that he has a message. Temp quickly fishes it out of his pocket, thankful he kept it on silent. He opens the door and reads the message as he steps out...only to break into a run as the door swings shut.