Post by Alex Kiseragi on Jul 6, 2010 6:18:27 GMT -5
Sentinel - 25/01/09
Tag Team Cage Match
Escape to win (Both Members)
Alex Kiseragi & Brandon Brown
Vs
Declan Prescott & Donovan Hastings
Ref: Glenn Burke
Winners - Alex Kiseragi & Brandon Brown
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He wasn’t sure how long he’d been stood there. He was barely even sure why he’d come here. Of all the places he could be right now he had chosen here, this exact spot. He didn’t know why but somehow it felt right. So there he stood…at the zoo.
Alex leant heavily on the barrier and watched them, the tigers. They prowled with a grace and regality that the greatest dancers could only hope to achieve in their lifetime and belied the infeasible power that remained ready in the muscles that bulged beneath distinctive skin. Kings of their world that no other creature or beast would dare challenge.
It was simply unfortunate for them that their world expanded no further than the steel bars that bordered the enclosure. Alex was no good at estimating these kind of sizes but if he could see from one side to the other from ground level it clearly wasn’t expansive. He wondered what it must be like, to be imprisoned. He wondered if they’d known anything else or if captivity was all they knew.
He felt his question was soon answered. A lone tiger ventured up to the bars and the row of gawking tourists. A magnificent beast even amongst it’s kin, it almost pulsed with an vicious energy that made more than one onlooker step back despite the steel that parted them. He watched it as he marched up and down the line like a drill sergeant inspecting his charges, or Komosube eyeing up a buffet. Inevitably, it’s gaze fell upon Alex and he looked the animal in the eye. He saw there a glint, a deepness and a sharpness few could recognise and fewer could truly appreciate. To the ignorant or assumptive it merely appeared as mania, psychoticism. The desire to destroy any and all it saw. But that wasn’t it, there was control behind those eyes, precision, intelligence. This one still bore the eyes of a predator. The memory of freedom, of the hunt, of the kill. Alex knew that look, he had seen it before, in the eyes of his Father in his competitive days, and once, in the mirror, but though he tried, he couldn’t remember when. His mind raced back to every show, to Horizons and every morning he awoke as a Champion. Then he found it, had it really been so long? It had, he remembered it like it was yesterday now as he stood in the locker room of the O2 Arena on October 18th, mere minutes before the biggest match of his career. He’d seen that glint then, felt that rush, that hunger. He had been a predator that night and he had claimed his prize.
The old warrior paced further up the row and paused again in front of a crowd of school children on some kind of field trip. With a deafening roar he raised up onto his hind legs and slashed at the bars, holding his weight against them to stand at his full height, towering over them all. Some screamed, Alex was sure he even heard one start to cry. The tiger allowed himself to drop back to his feet and sullenly strode away, back towards Alex’s direction. As it passed again, more hostile now, razor like teeth bared between thinly parted lips, Alex couldn’t help wondering how it really saw them. Most had grown up with their human spectators and grown accustomed to them as they had their captive sheltered lifestyles. But not this one, these beings who stood and stared so gormlessly were alien. They were his captors, his jailors and were it not for these bars that parted them he would see them all torn limb from limb, flesh rent from bone and devoured. But would that really be the perfect revenge? To be on the outside amongst the enemy? Or to have the enemy inside amongst your own? What greater pleasure then to be confined with those you despise the most. For them to have no escape. To know the captivity they forced upon you. To watch as they tried desperately to flee, to climb away and escape your wrath, only to drag them back and punish them for every slur, to right every wrong doing and avenge every dishonour.
This Sunday Alex would once more stand, caged with the enemy as he had so many times before.
“A plain old cage match?” he thought. “Childs play after what I’ve been through. Horizons, Distant Whispers, Battleground. To merely be asked to escape a simple open topped steel cage no longer brings the knots to my stomach and the bile to my throat as it may have done a year ago. These confinements, have almost become a second home to me. Who else in this company can claim to know this hell as I do? No-one else had been through those war zones, not all of them, month after back breaking month. No sooner the wounds from one healing and scarring over then the new set is wrought upon my body.”
The old tiger had grown tired of his audience now and turned his back on them, walking back into the enclosure, out of sight.
“And who is to join me in this latest battle? Brandon Brown. An ally? There was a time when I would have thought so. But now? Ha, not a chance. Can I trust him as a friend? About as far as I could throw his cousin. But that’s not the whole issue. I couldn’t trust Boolzian as a friend, but those week ago we co-existed and defeated four other men. So, can I trust Brandon Brown as a professional? Probably less than as a friend. This is still the same man who cost us victory the week before Battleground. The man who was meant to be my partner and took me out for one simple reason, jealousy.
He used to be the top dog around here. Two time Global Heavyweight Champion. The fans number one pick. The bane of the evil tyrant Declan Prescott. Then along came me. The new generation. I captured the fans hearts, I tore myself a path to the top in two short months. I tore a path through him. Then it all boiled over, as I felt Chris Austin’s ribs crumble under the force of my kick he was forced to look on as his moment was stolen. His bottom line taken and delivered better than he ever could.
There’s a simple factor that keeps this from turning into a handicap match. Declan Prescott. The Insignificant Player. Brandon will be far too busy trying to regain some glimmer of past glory to worry about how past it he looks beside me. Maybe I’ll just leave them to it. Let them thrash the hell out of each other as they so clearly love to do and simply be there to pick up the inevitable pieces as they once more fail to end their own misery.
And finally, the Non Entity Donovan Hastings. So you reached the Tournament huh? Woop-de-do. That sure was impressive taking down a piece of trash right up there on the Marlo scale. You must be very proud. The fact of the matter though is you’re only here to make up the numbers. Just stay out of the way and you won’t get hurt. By all means climb right out on the bell and let the rest of us do what needs to be done.
This Sunday blood will flow, bodies will break and I swear they shall not be mine because I don’t just have a match to win, I have a Tournament to win. Infinity will mark the return of The Dragon, the most Valuable Asset in GIW, The Chief Nigga.”
Alex snapped back to reality. It was starting to get dark and the crowd had begun to disperse. The tigers were retreating deeper into the enclosure out of sight. Alex allowed a thin smile to creep across his lips. He turned and walked away, a hunger in his stomach and a glint in his eye.
Tag Team Cage Match
Escape to win (Both Members)
Alex Kiseragi & Brandon Brown
Vs
Declan Prescott & Donovan Hastings
Ref: Glenn Burke
Winners - Alex Kiseragi & Brandon Brown
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He wasn’t sure how long he’d been stood there. He was barely even sure why he’d come here. Of all the places he could be right now he had chosen here, this exact spot. He didn’t know why but somehow it felt right. So there he stood…at the zoo.
Alex leant heavily on the barrier and watched them, the tigers. They prowled with a grace and regality that the greatest dancers could only hope to achieve in their lifetime and belied the infeasible power that remained ready in the muscles that bulged beneath distinctive skin. Kings of their world that no other creature or beast would dare challenge.
It was simply unfortunate for them that their world expanded no further than the steel bars that bordered the enclosure. Alex was no good at estimating these kind of sizes but if he could see from one side to the other from ground level it clearly wasn’t expansive. He wondered what it must be like, to be imprisoned. He wondered if they’d known anything else or if captivity was all they knew.
He felt his question was soon answered. A lone tiger ventured up to the bars and the row of gawking tourists. A magnificent beast even amongst it’s kin, it almost pulsed with an vicious energy that made more than one onlooker step back despite the steel that parted them. He watched it as he marched up and down the line like a drill sergeant inspecting his charges, or Komosube eyeing up a buffet. Inevitably, it’s gaze fell upon Alex and he looked the animal in the eye. He saw there a glint, a deepness and a sharpness few could recognise and fewer could truly appreciate. To the ignorant or assumptive it merely appeared as mania, psychoticism. The desire to destroy any and all it saw. But that wasn’t it, there was control behind those eyes, precision, intelligence. This one still bore the eyes of a predator. The memory of freedom, of the hunt, of the kill. Alex knew that look, he had seen it before, in the eyes of his Father in his competitive days, and once, in the mirror, but though he tried, he couldn’t remember when. His mind raced back to every show, to Horizons and every morning he awoke as a Champion. Then he found it, had it really been so long? It had, he remembered it like it was yesterday now as he stood in the locker room of the O2 Arena on October 18th, mere minutes before the biggest match of his career. He’d seen that glint then, felt that rush, that hunger. He had been a predator that night and he had claimed his prize.
The old warrior paced further up the row and paused again in front of a crowd of school children on some kind of field trip. With a deafening roar he raised up onto his hind legs and slashed at the bars, holding his weight against them to stand at his full height, towering over them all. Some screamed, Alex was sure he even heard one start to cry. The tiger allowed himself to drop back to his feet and sullenly strode away, back towards Alex’s direction. As it passed again, more hostile now, razor like teeth bared between thinly parted lips, Alex couldn’t help wondering how it really saw them. Most had grown up with their human spectators and grown accustomed to them as they had their captive sheltered lifestyles. But not this one, these beings who stood and stared so gormlessly were alien. They were his captors, his jailors and were it not for these bars that parted them he would see them all torn limb from limb, flesh rent from bone and devoured. But would that really be the perfect revenge? To be on the outside amongst the enemy? Or to have the enemy inside amongst your own? What greater pleasure then to be confined with those you despise the most. For them to have no escape. To know the captivity they forced upon you. To watch as they tried desperately to flee, to climb away and escape your wrath, only to drag them back and punish them for every slur, to right every wrong doing and avenge every dishonour.
This Sunday Alex would once more stand, caged with the enemy as he had so many times before.
“A plain old cage match?” he thought. “Childs play after what I’ve been through. Horizons, Distant Whispers, Battleground. To merely be asked to escape a simple open topped steel cage no longer brings the knots to my stomach and the bile to my throat as it may have done a year ago. These confinements, have almost become a second home to me. Who else in this company can claim to know this hell as I do? No-one else had been through those war zones, not all of them, month after back breaking month. No sooner the wounds from one healing and scarring over then the new set is wrought upon my body.”
The old tiger had grown tired of his audience now and turned his back on them, walking back into the enclosure, out of sight.
“And who is to join me in this latest battle? Brandon Brown. An ally? There was a time when I would have thought so. But now? Ha, not a chance. Can I trust him as a friend? About as far as I could throw his cousin. But that’s not the whole issue. I couldn’t trust Boolzian as a friend, but those week ago we co-existed and defeated four other men. So, can I trust Brandon Brown as a professional? Probably less than as a friend. This is still the same man who cost us victory the week before Battleground. The man who was meant to be my partner and took me out for one simple reason, jealousy.
He used to be the top dog around here. Two time Global Heavyweight Champion. The fans number one pick. The bane of the evil tyrant Declan Prescott. Then along came me. The new generation. I captured the fans hearts, I tore myself a path to the top in two short months. I tore a path through him. Then it all boiled over, as I felt Chris Austin’s ribs crumble under the force of my kick he was forced to look on as his moment was stolen. His bottom line taken and delivered better than he ever could.
There’s a simple factor that keeps this from turning into a handicap match. Declan Prescott. The Insignificant Player. Brandon will be far too busy trying to regain some glimmer of past glory to worry about how past it he looks beside me. Maybe I’ll just leave them to it. Let them thrash the hell out of each other as they so clearly love to do and simply be there to pick up the inevitable pieces as they once more fail to end their own misery.
And finally, the Non Entity Donovan Hastings. So you reached the Tournament huh? Woop-de-do. That sure was impressive taking down a piece of trash right up there on the Marlo scale. You must be very proud. The fact of the matter though is you’re only here to make up the numbers. Just stay out of the way and you won’t get hurt. By all means climb right out on the bell and let the rest of us do what needs to be done.
This Sunday blood will flow, bodies will break and I swear they shall not be mine because I don’t just have a match to win, I have a Tournament to win. Infinity will mark the return of The Dragon, the most Valuable Asset in GIW, The Chief Nigga.”
Alex snapped back to reality. It was starting to get dark and the crowd had begun to disperse. The tigers were retreating deeper into the enclosure out of sight. Alex allowed a thin smile to creep across his lips. He turned and walked away, a hunger in his stomach and a glint in his eye.
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