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Roslov v First v Jones

TheOriginalSE

Moderator
Joined
Jan 1, 2000
Messages
2,379
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36
Age
40
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Website
newera.fwrestling.com
Love. Fury. Passion. Energy.

* Stacy Jones RP for C01.


May you find that love ever after, may you find it by the end of the day. If you're lost, hurt, tired and lonely, something beautiful will come your way.

Famous scholars once said emotion seperated man from his ancestoral beasts and gave rise to his greatest, and most impressive acts. Those scolars went to painstaking effort to prove and declare just the excellence and creativity humanity owed to his most baseless, instinctual moods. Anger, sadness, fear & malice were just a handful of the countless states of mind avalible to man, yet forever isolated from the kingdom of animalkind.

Of those, undoubtedly the most prolific, and most difficult to understand was love.

Perhaps more so than any of its chief rivals, the feeling of love was not only enhancing, it was totally life-altering. Fewer other feelings could boast to change the entire outlook a person might hold on life, and re-arrange his priorities and ideals than this strange emotion.

Stacy had often felt that the key to understanding this powerful emotion, was in its far-reaching consequences. It was obvious that in a creature so highly intelligent and so utterly evolved as a Human being, something that could quite so simply reduce him to nothing more than an automaton, wether he truly realised it or not, should be explored, and if possible exploited.

Countless examples existed for study. The platonic love between close sets of friends, the passionate, lustful lunges of young couples and teenagers. The union-like supplementing relationships between husband, and wife and the all-encompassing compassion between a loved pet, and owner. Indeed the examples were infinite, yet completely different in its conclusion.

For Stacy, love was nothing more than a condition, it likened a disease more than a natural evolution. Its ability to affect, disrupt and corrupt the thought processes of those around likened to a virulent bacteria, or stubborn virus. She saw no advantage in handing over a portion of her own free will, and self-determination to another to do with as he pleased. Such loss of self-control was against everything the girl stood for.

But, in what context could Love be of use? Under what extenuating circumstances could the condition be of fortune?

Many years ago, when the United States still lay a foreign land, of which her experience was none existance, Stacy had what she termed a friendship. Long hours spent debating philisophical nothings and arguing over the smallest point until both were too tired to either win over or admit defeat. A person she had no problem nor difficulty spending time with.

Over the course of years, she had watched as a bystander as she had entered into a relationship. His name was unimportant, and escaped Stacy even to this day, but the marked changes in her personality began so subtly as that not even she recognised or realised them. Though it was very likely ignorance to him, by simply being around her, he cast subtle indications of alteration. Where previously she would have taken a course of action as an almost matter of instinct, now she hesitated, and often went against her previous behaviour.

Ultimately, superficially there was little change, yet as one once said, Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and though physical appearance was not the issue, the saying was apt. Underneath the surface, she bore little resemblance to the woman Stacy had once known. Altered forever, tainted in fact by the very condition Stacy reviled.

From that point on, she had often pondered its advantages. The emotional bond between people, perticularly couples was strong. It offered resistance against the most powerful foes, and ultimately acted as a barrier that few could ever hope to breach. Yet it was this very advantage that proved to be its biggest downfall. Trapped behind this barrier, could a bond be utilised to irritate, and annoy, to breakdown what it had once strived to protect?

More disturbingly, could in the name of love, unspeakable acts of depravity become the norm? Could a person be forced, exploited or otherwise manipulated to carry out deeds that any sane person would baulk and become disgusted at, in the name of love?

Stacy felt that it was possible.

She had witnessed cold hearted wifes force and humiliate their husbands in an effort to take whatever it was they needed. She had seen cruel men beat and subjugate their women savagely for nothing more than drunken entertainment. How could something survive in such a ridiculous scenario, unless it truly existed to be exploited and utilised?

Another kind of love fascinated her, and proved to have the greatest application.

She had long loathed religion, as a foolish quasi-mythilogical collection of stories and hideously mutated half-truths. She despised the surrendering of their own fates to some suppsed deity whose existance was only slightly more ludicrous than the presumption doing so would bring them "salvation". Yet between the congregation and their supposed lord, existed a powerful bond that transcended the norm. Here they genuinely gave of their souls to his cause, though he gave no indication of his acceptance. Surely something as one-sided as this exchange was doomed to failure? Christianity had retained itself as this for over a thousand years. Sufficient proof of his success, at least to Stacy.

It was this that she sought to duplicate. If it were possible, to set herself upon a dias that others would openly dedicate to their loyalty, Stacy could cement herself as a chosen, beautiful yet talented leader. She would not request such foolishness as salvation, or the deluded mumbling of a foolish churchman, no, instead she would "preach" knowledge, and its application. She would encourage the intelligent to control those who were not. She would see that the strong were put to use as that. She would see the devious were used to barter, the merciless used to show no mercy.

Indeed, she would see unity amongst all, as herself the central thread of a network that all would be held together with.

Ending her internal monlogue, she stretched. Feeling the stiffened muscles of her arms respond, she stood. The night was quiet, yet no rain had fallen from the sky, and the trees enjoyed a relatively serene night. The dirty bushes that lay outside of the drive fluttered gently, and Stacy made a note to ensure the gardener would tend to their unpleasent forms.

This week, would fall another hard fought match-up. Her first here in NEW-ERA. She was in a triple threat match against two other newcomers, The First and Alexander Roslov. She outclassed them, she outperformed them and she would prove it at Cyberstrike when she beat them both, even if she had to do it alone.

Stacy, has now shown to you all, in previous federations, the reasons for her onslaught, the true nature of the beauty, and why it is that such a pretty model looking girl, fights dirty. Everyone has problems, everyone has a history, but History, will change, and will forever change, until History is ended, and history will end when Stacy gains NEW-ERA gold.
 
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TheOriginalSE

Moderator
Joined
Jan 1, 2000
Messages
2,379
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36
Age
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Location
San Francisco, CA
Website
newera.fwrestling.com
New Place, Same Business.

* The First RP for C01.


(FADEIN: The First standing in front of a New Era banner. First has on a Heath Ledger style Joker outfit, his face painted as the Joker's was, only his lipstick is black instead of red. Standing beside him in the Arkham Asylum Harley Quinn nurse outfit.)

FIRST: Insanity...I've been accused of it before...You see a man needs a reason to exist, to do anything, you have to find that thing that drives you, that motivates you, that makes you want to get up out of bed and run through a brick wall, because dammit, you need to feel alive and this is what does it for you.

But what's the point they ask, what can you gain from all this, from an industry so uncaring and cruel that it's former stars die so tragically young, that it's heroes are discarded so quickly by the next generation?

What do you do Stacy? Do you keep chasing the dream? Going from company to company, city to city, country to country, chasing belts made of leather and metal, trying to find meaning in beating people up, knowing sooner or later, they'll get revenge?

We're like greyhounds Stacy, chasing that rabbit we'll never catch it, no matter how hard we try. Nobody will ever be the best, nobody will ever be the one name that settles all debates, no title will ever silence all critics...Nothing we ever do will be good enough for those who doubt, those who naysay...

So why do we do it Stacy? What makes you get up and swallow a mouthful of your own blood, what makes you roll that shoulder off the mat at 2 and a half, when your body begs you to just lay there and let it be over? What pushes you to fight for the ropes when one of your limbs is being hopelessly contorted, every second pushing it closer to the breaking point...What makes you fight on instead of tapping out?

I want to know what makes you tick, what makes a woman try to survive in a man's world, being beaten and brutalized by opponents two or three times her size, why do you struggle, why do you fight?

You might tire of me asking such questions and might ask me why I do these things...I could of course defer to insanity as an answer (Smiles) but that would be to easy...

Fact is Stacy, it doesn't matter that half the time I'll just be rehashing old wars, settling old scores...Reliving events that have happened prior. See I've fought Cameron Cruise, Jonathan Marx, Adrian Willard, and The Druid, I know these men, what they stand for, what they think, how they act, some are jaded cynics, others raving madness, some stand for the greatness of the sport, others look upon it as a means to an end, a way to pay the bills and have some small level of fame.

And I know Shawn Hart, our World Champion...A man who may be my only friend in this whole industry (Muse punches First in the arm) Oh you know what I mean...And I know that I can beat him, and I know that I have to win three straight matches to earn a chance to do just that.

See Stacy, this is what the truth is to me, one match at a time, one moment at a time, one can not become a legend overnight, one can’t build legacy based off one match, but each match is a step on a path that leads to the immortality that the insane seek. Those who want to become more than just mere men must aspire to such greatness.

They will tell you it is a fool’s errand, that you can’t do it, that dreams are only there to break your heart, but those are the people who fear success, who don’t want to think about suffering and struggling and all the hard work that comes with it, because if that does lead to a payoff of something great, something meaningful, then they’ll be the ones who are wrong.

That’s what I live for, that’s what this match begins, a slow and steady process by which I earn my right to become a Champion in this company, and you stand in my way.

I expect your best, I’d be upset if I didn’t get it, for a victory not earned by fighting the best at their very best is hardly a victory at all. I want to see what Miss Stacy is capable of, what you can do when the chips are down, do you shrink from the moment, or do you grab it by the throat?

And can you do it against me, a man you claim to outclass, you seem supremely confident in your abilities, but have you really been tested? See that’s the question I’m going to ask you, ask I slam your body to the mat, as I punch and kick you, as I beat and batter you without any mercy what-so-ever, you’ll be hearing it in your mind.

Do you really want this?

As you hit me with anything and everything you have to bring forth, as you assault me with move after move and I keep kicking out, keep getting up, you’ll have to ask yourself

Do you really want this?

Because I know I do, I’m insane with the need to be champion, I’m bound and determined to fight in the main event of the biggest stages New Era has to offer me, I’ll not rest until that becomes reality, and I will do anything I need to do to get there, do you have that in you?

Do you really want this?

You know you can spend years fighting, struggling, clawing for glory, and one move, one split second can take it all away from you, everything you’ve ever worked for is gone in an instant, and that pain…That pain cuts in ways you can’t even imagine, it aches like a wound that’ll never truly heal, and you suffer with it for as long as you live…And I put myself out there every night knowing I live on that edge, knowing I’m setting myself for failure…And I live for it, I live for that pain, to know that to truly be alive, is to risk everything you are to become what you’re meant to be…

Are you ready to risk that Stacy?

Do you really want this?

(FADEOUT)
 
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