Post by Kaiser on Mar 19, 2014 19:00:34 GMT -6
The hero was given another chance.
The hero is able to fight for all that is good again.
The prize is there, waiting for him.
But he must climb a mountain first.
And defeat every villain that he will see.
March 19th 2014
MSW Backstage
[ Many people walked by as they continue to do their jobs. A lightbulb flashes; its life beginning to dwindle away. Sitting in a seat, Peyton von Licht seems to be in deep focus. He nods "hello"s to those who say it to him first. People are innately wary. He hasn't been around in two weeks. Some of the new workers did not know who he was. His stubble had began to overtake his face. His eyes shown the more serious nature that the young boy had began to develop. A cameraman approached Peyton. Peyton glanced up at him, noticing that it was time for him to record his promo. He greeted the cameraman with a handshake. His name was George. After a moment of set-up and test footage, he gives Peyton the 'go'. The hero is on.]
MSW Backstage
[ Many people walked by as they continue to do their jobs. A lightbulb flashes; its life beginning to dwindle away. Sitting in a seat, Peyton von Licht seems to be in deep focus. He nods "hello"s to those who say it to him first. People are innately wary. He hasn't been around in two weeks. Some of the new workers did not know who he was. His stubble had began to overtake his face. His eyes shown the more serious nature that the young boy had began to develop. A cameraman approached Peyton. Peyton glanced up at him, noticing that it was time for him to record his promo. He greeted the cameraman with a handshake. His name was George. After a moment of set-up and test footage, he gives Peyton the 'go'. The hero is on.]
“Thank you, Mr Stevenson! You have honored the fans by allowing their hero to compete in this tournament once again!”
Peyton stood in front of a camera, grinning widely. His hood casting darkness over his face as per the usual now. He gazed at a new bracket, taking out the same black marker that he had before. He plastered the bracket on the board and took a moment to examine it.
“Let us see here. The original opponent that I had, Mark Brooks, had vanished off the face of the earth. Thus, we have a new person in his place. A boy named Tyler Xero,” Peyton rubbed his chin against and crossed his arms. “Let us examine this boy, yes? He's already made a small impact in our little federation, hasn't he?” Peyton slowly took off his hood, revealing two lines of black face paint. They looked like war paint.
"First: some opening thoughts."
“I couldn’t exactly call him a villain. He doesn’t fit the bill,” Peyton shrugged. “He fits that of a common thug. One that any hero can trounce if they encountered him,” he added quickly, lowering his eyebrows, struggling to explain the concept to his listeners.
“Why? He has the confidence of one,” Peyton quickly answered his own question, trying not to giggle at the thought.
“Tyler Xero has not proven anything to me or to our wonderful crowd. He had flashed his physique and belittled a man who is just like him. Mark Brooks was a man trying to make himself known,” Peyton’s explanation ended with him looking down at the ground. A sense of disappointment grew over his face. “Just like you are, Tyler.”
He pointed at the camera, as if Tyler was there.
“And you said you were going to cripple him?”
A pause.
“You said you were going to break his neck?”
Peyton shivered with anticipation, chuckling as he looked back up at the camera. His giggles came to a halt as he went back to his serious demeanor.
“See, it is words like those that get me riled up. Words like that is what got me back into this tournament. I originally decided that this tourney was no longer for me. I was content with letting someone else capture the MSW Heavyweight Championship. But then, I realized that there were people like you in this tournament. Men who grew up self-entitled; men who grew up looking down on the Earth.”
Peyton walked over to a nearby table, picking up a small stack of papers. There was about four to six pages of notes in said stack.
Peyton began flipping through them as he began to speak again.
“I already began my studying. You’re a good wrestler; there is no denying that. You just need to fix your outlook on life and those in it. When I defeat you, I will hope that your crushing loss will help alleviate this egocentric philosophy you bear,” Peyton took a moment to breath. His voice began to get deeper with latent rage.
“If you throw a superkick, I will throw a roundhouse! You throw a knee, I throw an elbow! You try to cripple me and I will choke you out! Bring all of your sadistic mentality to our match, I look to purify you!” MSW’s Personal Hero was screaming now. “Even if I have to knock you into a coma to do so, I believe you can still be saved. A hero never gives up on anyone, even the most vile and despicable,” his words became soft, like an older sibling to their younger.
“In this match, I am not just fighting for my conquest. I am fighting for the fans who wish to see good prevail. I am fighting for your honor as well. I am fighting to help you along your path as a budding wrestler. This mindset you have will only corrupt you in the long run. You have time, Tyler. You still have time to save yourself,” Peyton paused once again.
He allowed his last words to come out with a solemn tone.
“You're not a villain, Tyler. You're a confused man."
Another pause.
"I hope you understand what I have to do. I am only trying to help.”
Concluding his speech, he put back on the hood, shrouding his eyes completely in the darkness it brings. He turned to the bracket and crossed out Tyler Xero’s name on it. He looked at it for a fine moment, before putting the cap on it. He gave one final look to the camera, showing his green eyes full of grief. He shook his head disappointingly and walked off.
Fade to black.
