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A King's Entrance

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A King's Entrance

Post  King Krimsin on Fri May 08, 2015 4:54 pm

All of the sudden, the arena goes dark.

Rhydian :  What the..?

Andy :  It... uh... Would appear we are having some technical issues?

Andy’s attempt to sound as if in control of the broadcast, would have succeeded, if not for his voice comedically cracking halfway through.  He clears his throat, but before he can speak again, everyone in attendance, Andy included, is given a sudden start.  An explosion of pyro on the stage grabs everyone’s attention, as, “Domination” - Pantera, begins blasting throughout the arena.

Andy :  WHOOO!!  HOLY...

Rhydian :  ...  What the hell was that...

Andy :  ...  HA HA!!  Eh..  Annnd I’ll just go change my pants now...

Before the smoke, from the immense explosion that has just occurred, can begin clearing, two long rows of tiny flame spring to life, one on either side of the curtain, that stretch from the curtain all the way to the end of the ramp; the flames are backlit in scarlet.  Then, four red spotlights begin to dance around the arena, matching the frenetic energy of the blistering heavy metal music blaring through the speakers, until two of them finally come to rest on a dark figure, emerging from the curtain.

The stage-wide camera zooms in slowly, as a man, of decidedly average size, crosses the threshold onto the stage.  Although, however ordinary he is when it comes to size, his appearance is congruently extraordinary.  The red spotlight reveals a man with barely shoulder length, jet black, hair.  Clasped, loosely, over his shoulders with a golden chain, is a black cape, winged at the neck.  The chain runs underneath the folded-down collar of a black leather vest, that is decorated with silver zippers.  He wears, black, fingerless leather gloves on either hand, and around either wrist, hangs about a foot long piece of black cloth.  He wears tight fitting, leather, pants, that are most certainly not being held up by his belt, which is a purely decorative belt of large, jacketed, rifle ammo.

As the camera gets even closer, his painted face becomes visible.  Two black monarch-butterfly-like wings are painted over either eye, on either side of a white, nose-guard like, shape that extends down his nose, and comes to a point just under either corner of his mouth.  His lips are painted blood red, including his thin mustache, that draws down his chin, in thin strokes.

He has an evil smile on his face, as he stomps to fist pump, briefly, before waving his arms toward the curtain as if beckoning someone, or something.

The crowd pops, slightly, at this new monster of a man, emerging from the darkness, who is revealed within the second red spotlight.

He is every bit of seven feet tall, and is built lean, but with a very considerable amount of size.  His black hair is slicked down the front of his face, with some sort of hair grease, sculpted to a point that rests against the bridge of his nose.  His skin is pale white, and the dark circles under his eyes are only magnified by the eye liner he wears.  His arms are both covered, from shoulder to wrist, in gothic looking tattoo sleeves, and he wears a black bicep band on his right arm, a red one on his left.  His black leather vest is trimmed with red chord, and is worn open, revealing a large, armored, knight with a bloody axe spanning from under the waist of his red and black trunks, all the way up his right side, along his ribcage, to just under the side of his chest; on the back of his trunks is the word “KRUSH” in big bold white, outlined in black, font.  Like his counterpart, he wears a large black leather, fingerless, glove on either hand, but around each of his wrists, are a large, studded, leather strap.


Rhydian :  Uh.. Who the hell are these guys?

Andy :  No idea!  But, if they start biting the heads off of rodents, or whatever, Im out!

The two men make their way down the ramp, with flames licking the sides of the ramp next to them.  The larger of the two wears a scowl, and strides purposefully ahead of the smaller man, who is smiling wildly, and waving his arms all around as if casting a spell or something.

After nearly a minute, the two make their way into the ring.  The big guy stops in the center of the ring, arms folded, facing the announce table, while the other scurries over to the apron, and retrieves a mic from a tech hand.  His cape waves in the air, as he whirls around toward a camera, and raises the microphone to his lips.


Rhydian :  Hmm.. I don’t really like the way that big one is looking at us.

Andy :  Well if he comes over here, its comforting to know that I don’t need to outrun him... I just need to outrun you, Ha Ha!!

As the man with the mic speaks, his voice is deep, dreamy, with a very thick timbre, and a noticeable accent; most likely Scandanavian, Danish, or German, hard to tell.  He smiles wickedly into the camera as he speaks.

??? :  Good evening, ladies and gentleman.  My name is Marcurcio the Mauve, and the gods have blessed you all tonight!  For it is by their will, that I bring to you, for your violent viewing pleasure, the greatest warrior this world, or any other, has ever known!

The crowd boos, as Marcurcio motions toward his towering counterpart.

To the lay man.. He may seem but mortal.  However, his human flesh belies the eternal spirit of a champion, and the mighty heart of a king!  Humbly, in front of all of you, and under the watchful eye of the gods, that I present...  King!  Krimsin!!

The giant man remains steadfast, arms folded and scowling deeply, but turns toward the same camera that Marc is addressing.  The crowd’s disapproval becomes even more audible.

Andy :  Soo...  This guy’s a king?  And he was sent by “the gods?”  That explains everything...

Rhydian :  Yes it does.  It explains that these two individuals are suffering from acute psychosis.

Andy :  Not sure if weirdos.. or if just shnazzy dressers.. Ha Ha!

Marcurcio :  Before you stands the very thing about which tales are told, that keep babes awake at night in fear.  The answer, to the age old question.. “what’s the worst that can happen...”  He is your king,  merciless and unforgiving!  You thought you all knew X-Entertainment.. yeah?  You thought you all knew violence...  You thought you all knew devastation!  Well, brothers and sisters...  You haven’t a clue, yet... Muahaha...

Marc gives an evil chuckle, as the fans continue to boo.  His previously gleeful tone takes a more sinister, and threatening, turn.  His voice lowers, to almost a growl.

...  Careful, careful...  Your hatred will only make the giant grow stronger!

He switches back to his dreamy, almost amicable, tone of voice.
   
Though fear him not, for as long as I am present, he will not hurt you.  A luxury that every man and woman in the back does NOT share with you!

Andy :  Ooooh.. Shots fired.

Rhydian :  So far a lot of talking, though, and not a lot of action...

Marcurcio :  By the will of the gods, he is here to FIX AXN, and to rule it with his merciless bloody fist!  To take the throne of this organization, where he belongs.  So is their will, and so shall it be done!

Marc casts a sideways glance at Krimsin, before turning back to the camera, smiling widely.

And this will, without a doubt, be the easiest kingdom he has ever conquered!  I have made my way around, back there, and have yet to meet so much as ONE champion to oppose him!  

I mean... Look around, people!  Where we come from, championship status cannot be bought, like a calf at market.  Championship status must be earned through bloody conquest!!  Yet there are those in the back, who would not only allow such cowardice and treachery to occur, but who would ENCOURAGE it!!
 

Andy :  Not sure what he means by that... ?

Marcurcio :  Like that SATYR!  Tom Midas!!

The crowd pops wildly at the mention of Tom.

Andy :  Tom’s a.. SATYR!?!?!

...

Rhydian.. what’s a satyr...?


Marcurcio :  Mr. Moneybags Midas is a shrewd man, to be sure.  He knows how easily the fickle hearts of mortal men can be bought by earthly things.... But however smart, and conniving, he may be, a CHAMPION..?.. he most assuredly is NOT!!

Andy :  Yeah not yet, but he’s in the AXN Heavyweight Championship Tournament, so he’s closer to champion than either of these guys...

Rhydian :  Although the fans here might not agree, this Marcurcio guy may have a point about buying ones shot for a title..

Andy :  Hmm.. Yeah, he’s nuttier than a pair of squirrel turds, but that part does make sense.  But anyone who says Tom Midas, of all people, doesnt belong in the running for the Heavyweight Title, is as crazy as these guys!

Marcurcio :  King Krimsin will be entering this contest, to crown AXN’s champion, as a vessel for the spirits of competition.  His domination will be felt, whether the man called Chef does the right thing by entering him into this tournament... or if need be...  we will be forced to do things the old fashioned way...

Marc smiles gleefully, and evily.  As he is about to continue, however, his face drops suddenly, in anger, as [TOMS MUSIC] hits.  Both men look offended, and turn their menacing gazes toward the ramp.
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Re: A King's Entrance

Post  Tom Midas on Fri May 08, 2015 9:36 pm

Bon Jovi's Living on a Prayer blares from the speakers positioned strategically on the entrance ramp as Tom Midas walks out with a mic of his own in his hand, with a rather annoyed expression on his face as he wears his golden vest with TM over his left pectoral as well as his green trunks and black boots. If one didn't know how calculating Tom was, they would assume he was wanting to face Krimsin tonight. Instead however, he points nonchalantly towards the AXN logo above the titantron.

Tom: "So I assume at least one of you can read, correct? Gonna assume... Marc was it? No matter, just gonna assume you're the more literate one. In any case, those letters spell AXN. Is it a matter of fact I happened to invest in said word, in said fed? Yes. But you do know what's different between me and most folks who invest in wrestling promotions? I truly care, I grew up watching the stuff and enjoying it. Daddy's money didn't get me a spot in a certain GWA fed. It didn't get me favoritism in a fed ran by my own sister. I fought for everything I've achieved. I'm not a massive viking or whatever warrior you two think you are, but I'm a wrestler first, investor in AXN second.

Rhydian: "Sure you are, Tom. And a 60 year old who's retired 50 times already is really hanging up his boots this time. Buying power is one of the oldest and actually honestly best plays in the book when it comes to sport entertainment. Don't see the reason why he isn't living up to the fact though."

Andy: "Just because you're rich and spiteful, doesn't mean everyone is Rhydian. It may shock you, but some people are influential and sociable!"

Rhydian: "Sure Andy, say that for now. There's a reason there's a saying that money is the root to all evil. Only thing that changes is how visible people make that maliciousness apparent."

Tom walks down the entrance ramp, getting closer and closer to the quickly angering duo in the ring, but he just nonchalantly points the mic at the behemoth, and then continues speaking.

Tom: "You haven't spoken yet, so I guess you're a man with few words who carries a big stick, or however that saying goes. Well the thing is, no matter how much Mr. Mauve tries and build you up as a dominating force, neither of you have done anything major in AXN. Possessed by a demon king or whatever, but I don't see either of you bench pressing billy bob backstage. Being tall and muscular doesn't make you world champion in most places. Having talent, and proving you have it, matters a hell of a lot more."

Tom begins to walk up the steel steps, but as he stands on the apron, staring down Krimsin as Marc for some reason appears to be trying to calm Krimsin down.... for the moment, at least.

Tom: "So to cut a long story short, most of the folks on the roster right now haven't proven themselves so you're argument there's fairly irrelevant. In even simpler terms, I have nothing to prove to the two of -you-. The only people whose opinion I care about far outnumber the likes of you two. So if you want a fight with -me-, you'll have to have them want it. And guess what, those people? They ain't no suits in the back. They're the fans watching right now, live in this arena, or at home on their television. So yeah, you're not fig-"

______ by ______ plays as Shepherd Blue walks out onto the entrance ramp himself, with one hand rubbing the bridge of his nose and the other with a microphone of his own in his hand.

Chef: "You know, I thought we'd get through the whole show before people began arguing that they're being ignored, but obviously, that ain't going to happen. So you know what? How about this to hopefully make the both of you happy, and if not, at least stop wasting time with your bickering in the middle of the ring!"

Chef takes a moment to pause, and the tournament's bracket shows up on the titantron above his head. After another moment, the portion of the bracket with Tom's name advances his picture forwards, as if showing he advances.

Chef: "So let's assume Mr. Midas wins tonight, if that occurs, instead of solely facing just the fellow semifinalist next week, he would be facing King Krimsin as well, in a Triple Threat match!"

Tom, taking his attention off of Krimsin for the first time since he walked out, and throws his arms up and audibly lets out a groan of disgust at the injustice. He points to the duo in the ring, asking where's the negative for them, to which Chef grins.

Chef: "Simple, Tommy, if you don't advance tonight, neither you OR Krimsin will be in the tourney. Literally speaking, his placement in this tourney is riding on your success tonight. So without further rage from the either of you, I'm going back to work, Tom, your match is coming up next, so you better be ready."

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Re: A King's Entrance

Post  Tom Midas on Fri May 08, 2015 9:37 pm

(feel free to add a retort or whatever by marc, staredown by Krimsin, etc. to finish this up, Terry.)

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Re: A King's Entrance

Post  King Krimsin on Sat May 09, 2015 1:04 am

Marc, sneering, rolls his eyes in disgust, as King Krimsin towers next to him, menacingly.  The look on King’s face is that of sharply increasing anger.  It’s not a complete second before Marc raises the mic to his lips, and, annoyed, snaps a bit at Tom.

Marcurcio :  You are quite the player, in this.. the game of politics of man, Tom Midas.  If you can fight half as well as you can manipulate, then you shouldn’t need our assistance in your coming match...

...  You will be disappointed, no doubt, when the time comes that you are face to face with King Krimsin, and you find that particular talent of yours useless in the court of battle!  And make no mistake...  If you fail us tonight...  If you are defeated...  Well...


Marc casts a sideways glance at King, an evil grin that is acknowledged by the latter.  King unfolds his arms, and reaches down to retrieve the mic from Marc.  Angrily, he shouts only two words down toward Tom.

King Krimsin :  KRIMSIN!  ...  CRUSH!!!

He drops the mic, at the feet of a giggling Marcurcio.  The pair stare at Tom as they exit the ring, and approach the safety rail in front of the crowd at ringside.  King grabs Marc’s arm, aiding him as he steps up onto, and then over, the guard rail.  Then the giant takes one giant step over with his left, then his right, leg, and the two stare menacingly over at Tom from the crowd.

Andy :  I feel bad for the people over there that have to try to see around THAT guy...

Rhydian :  Im not so sure this is a smart move on the part of Marcurcio and King Krimsin...  They need Tom to win this match in order to have a shot next week...
   
Andy :  Well I cant think of better motivation not to lose than... well... a butt kicking after you lose!    

Rhydian :  At any rate.. If they are smart, they won’t just sit there if this match takes a turn... They can’t afford for Tom to lose this match.
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