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Post by Jennifer Enigma on Feb 12, 2021 21:52:58 GMT
Main Event
No Friends Match w/special guest referee Heather Haze
Necra Octavia Kane and Leon Dread versus. Justin Justice and Freddie Styles
•Whoever gets the pitfall will be Justice's opponent at Corruption. If Justice gets the pinfall he gets to choose his opponent or have the night off |
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Post by Necra Octavien Kane on Mar 1, 2021 1:48:06 GMT
OOC: Forgive the lateness of the rp. I don't usually do video promo's but this time I did. Enjoy
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Post by Jennifer Enigma on Mar 1, 2021 2:51:13 GMT
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Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
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Post by Deleted on Mar 1, 2021 3:04:07 GMT
Buckhead. East Atlanta. Where the movers and shakers of the A reside. Rappers, ball players, CEO's, chairmen and women of boards....they all have their homes here
some more than one. You see those chicks from Love & Hip Hop: Atlanta out here. This is where they roam. This is NOT where you would find a professional wrestler.
Now...if you move towards the center of the city...the incubator, so to speak...you would find a pro wrestler there. You'd find one that just finished a world tour with the biggest wrestling show in the world. One that pays the best, gets the best ratings, and unlike other global programs, actually remembers the actual sport of wrestling. You would find this gentleman getting a few pickup games in at Georgia State, looking like he should be at the D-League showcase in Orlando instead of putting his body on the line each week in tights and boots, but while he likes basketball...he was born to wrestle.
You would find him running the streets that he grew up on, getting that cardio in. Don't always need that fancy workout equipment to make a body strong. Sometimes all you need are the streets and a will to succeed. Money too...cause clothes and shoes ain't free. Every now and again he'll go west on I-20 across the state line and visit his mentor for skill refinement, but this kid is his own man, doing it his own way.
He isn't some psychopath who relies on barbwire, broken lightbulbs and paint to make him a star, nor is he the walking embodiment of the biggest loser either. He isn't regarded as a lion, or does he need to carry a weapon into the ring at all times, then brag like he actually did something great. He doesn't need to beat down an old man in front of a kid to be feared, nor does he need to embarrass an old vet to gain a morsel of respect.
He doesn't pretend to be some God on earth, nor does he think he's the be all end all of this business, even with multiple world title reigns under his belt. At least, not yet.
Most importantly, he doesn't have to portray himself as a myriad of different things. He never had to hide behind some false character to ward off the pain from a dead tormentor and a cracked out whore of a mother. He's seen plenty of lost bros, cousins, friends and enemies in this concrete jungle. Blood bubbling up from the hard concrete, hot bullets piercing flesh...the cold steel in his hand as he pulls the trigger to survive.
That's where Freddie Styles comes from. Born of the streets, molded by the world, and conqueror of anything he seeks.
Where he is now is a small apartment in downtown Atlanta, his first place back in his city since coming back from a short stay overseas. He's got his computer up, watching SEE promos after a decent workout. He listens to Necra's words, and cuts the link off.
Sometimes the world spins out of control, and nothing you do can prevent or stop it! Destiny they say is something we have to stride for and make on our own, but destination is not up to us. In the process of getting from point A to point B, things happen. Come deem it the work of God, some proclaims that it is the devil tempting them to stray their course. The basic story of Eve, the snake, and the forbidden fruit. If faith is something you have, it helps to believe you have some guardian angel watching over you.
For those who lack faith normally has no explanation for it. Their mind cannot create an answer so far fetch that it brings a small ounce of hope to any man, especially the one who scrapping the bottom needing to get back up.
Then we are left with those who do not lack faith, but disbelieves the idea of religion. Why you ask? Religion is too fluffy to be realistic. What is the moral of everything dealing with religion? Do good and you are rewarded in the afterlife. So endure hell now, suffer the pain, put up with the torment, and turn the other cheek when someone punches you in the jaw... That is the idea of religion. To have faith in some supernatural being having the power to present life and death in the same breath.
For these people, we know why things happen. Why does depression bitch slap the crack addict mother who has used her last dollar on crack, when her baby daughter is starving and her eviction notice is on the front door? Simple, when you make bad decisions, the consequences can only be one thing... BAD! Sure, the gang banger maybe living the life right now, but sooner or later, he will meet his fate. You cannot hide from the truth, from the facts, from a realistic ending. Everything boils down to a simple saying, A MEANS TO AN END!
I know what some of you are thinking...what does the idea of religion or belief have to do with us? What does the world spinning out of control mean to us?
Simple... Just like every means has an end, every end is followed by a new beginning. I represent the new beginning, and the means to this end is going to happen. I am merely mortal, I am not untouchable, and I am not unbeatable. I know my strengths, but most of all, I know my limitations and weakness like I know how to spell my fucking name. Mr. Ballgame himself, Freddie Styles
I know on any given night, in side that ring in front of those hostile fans under those bright ass lights... I can be the one looking up at them with my shoulders on the canvas hearing the referee's hand slapping the canvas three times and not being able to stop it. I'm humble, but I won't accept defeat until I am left with no other choice. At this exact moment, I HAVE A CHOICE! I get to make the decision in what I do and how I do it.
Just so you all know, my uncle Ron is home in Birmingham, resting. Unfortunately, whatever yall put into his body has affected him enough to where the doctors will no longer clear him to wrestle. So Necra, you get the honor of being the one that retired the living legend of this business. It will be the last you have in my presence.
Furthermore, I'm here assuming the remainder of my uncle's lucrative contract, and everything that comes with it. Which means that no matter what happens at Temptation, Justin Justice, paper bitch playing champion...you will have to see me. That's right....my uncle's rightful contracted rematch for the Atrocity title now belongs to me. And best believe that when I cash that in, I will be holding the title at the end of that match.
I was taught that you show respect in this world, until you are disrespected. I was also taught that respect is taken and earned by those means. The rest of yall can sit in the back lacing up your boots, taping up your hands, and sliding on your knee pads, waiting for something to happen. Me, I'm that guy who will be the one that jumps up and makes things happen. I'M TAKING WHAT I FEEL I DESERVE. Necra, Leon...you can channel all that anger, fear, hope and fury together and bring it all to bear at Temptation, but it won't be enough. Not near enough.
This is my first real opportunity to make a statement, and that chance comes at Temptation when I stand in the ring with the three of you. You can be as dangerous as you wanna be, you can say it's only business, but I'm only interested in laying you out in the middle of the ring. Period point blank. This is personal to me. Not because of you, but because I personally want that Atrocity title around my waist, and the first step to that is beating you all on the biggest stage.
Freddie Styles aint never ran from a fight in my life, and I damn sure aint bout to run from none of yall.
I'm big money, yall small, creepy, pussy ass change
Two words when I crack you with it....BALLGAME!
Freddie throws his hood over his head, and walks out the door, off for his morning jog as the scene fades.
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