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 Posted: Tue Feb 10, 2015 10:31 am
Tonight's episode of Legacies had surely been an eventful one. The Hardcore Title was on the line, Bad Boy was booked in his first match as the Legacy Champion, and the crowd had been subject to one of the most electrifying confrontations in months between Trent, Cartwright, and the champions of WWF:G. Just as the fans were settling in for the main event of the evening, the lights around the room began to flicker. One by one, the spotlights would blink out; before too long, the crowd was left in a sea of darkness. After the previous shows, fans were certain that the strange montages of the WWF:G roster would begin playing again. They were sure that they'd be hearing the piano music that haunted the attendees of the last two shows. However, all that was heard was the sound of a quiet wind. It was just loud enough to be heard all through the arena. It blew against the crowd with a mild chill to it, causing goosebumps to run up the spines for those that weren't too comfortable with the cold. Wind continued to gently blow through the room, filling it with its mild chill; fans sat in anticipation, looking for an answer to this random interjection before the main event. Could tonight hold the answer to the Royal Rumble's closing statements? When a clap of thunder shook the arena, the fans felt that they might have their answer...
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Posted: Tue Feb 10, 2015 8:34 pm
Another abrupt boom of thunder shook the arena. The thunder was replaced with the outcry of jeers and cheers from the audience, but they were soon overpowered by another shockwave. A flash of lightning streaked across the dome of the arena, igniting the room with light for but a moment. Thunder had rolled through the room, lightning had lit up the arena, and the chill wind was blowning. It could only mean one thing: The Storm was coming. A lone guitar began to quietly play over the sound system, mixing in with the distinct sound of raindrops hitting steel. The eerie music that had ushered in Matt Shanahan since Wrestlemania 2013 had become one of the most known songs in the industry. But if it was truly Shanahan, the fans had yet to see. Short Change Hero - The HeavyThe slow, haunting intro to the familiar theme music echoed through the darkness, leaving the sea of fans visionless in the massive room. The titantron flickered on to display an image of storm clouds surging with electricity, filling the skies with their ominous light. Aside from the titantron, there was only darkness. The rain could be heard pouring, but no one knew to what degree it had overtaken the arena. As the intro began to wind down, the fans let out another infused roar of disapproval and adoration for what dared to follow. And with that noise... BOOM!!!A thunder-clap with the force of a sonic boom shook the arena as a bolt of lightning struck the center of the stage, causing a pillar of flames to shoot up from it. The flames spread all over the stage, bathing it in fire and fighting against the 'rain' pouring from the ceiling of the arena. As if on queue, the lights came with a dark-blue hue, just barely giving the fans a glimpse of their surroundings The dim lights revealed that this rain was falling all across the arena. The audience, the stage, the ramp, even the ring itself was being poured down upon by the deluge from the ceiling. The music kicked back in, now with a distinct drum beat to it. The center of the stage was wide open with fog billowing out, concealing the figure that began to slowly rise from it... I can't see where you comin' from,
But I know just what you runnin' from.
And what matters ain't the "who's baddest" but,
The ones who stop you fallin' from your ladder, baby...The figure continued to rise up from the hole in the stage as the song played; his head was covered by a black hood, attached to a long, black leather trenchcoat. His head was kept down to hide his face from view, even though the arena knew who he was. The platform kept rising as the song went on and the rain slid off of his trenchcoat.  And you feel like you're feelin' now,
Doin' things just to please your crowd.
But I love you like the way I love you,
And I suffer, but I ain't gonna cut you 'cause...As the first verse finished, the platform ended it's rise to the the stage. Matt Shanahan lifted his head to stare down at the ring, revealing hints of his features to the glaring crowd. His face was emotionless, a blank slate as usual. Despite the fact that he was far from liked after his previous appearances in the company, a good part of the crowd screamed in approval of the returning Hall of Famer. His right hand was gripped around his legendary weapon, the 'Punk-ville Slugger', only loosening to give the bat a single twirl to his side. The chorus began as The Storm slowly began to step down the ramp, well protected from the rain thanks to his hooded coat. This ain't no place for no hero.
This ain't no place for no better man.
This ain't no place for no hero to call "home."
This ain't no place for no hero.
This ain't no place for no better man.
This ain't no place for no hero to call "home."As he moved down the ramp, some fans would dare say he was simply floating through the fog in his way, as his legs seem to just barely stride down the metallic walkway. On the last two lines of the chorus, a flash of lightning ripped across the roof of the arena, causing the dark-blue lighting to go out once more. The Storm didn't remotely pause in his wake tonight though. Every time I close my eyes, I think,
I think about you inside.
And your mother, givin' up on askin' why -
Why you lie, and you cheat, and you try to make
A fool outta she...Three more bells chimed as the bridge was sang through-out the arena. Each time, there was a quick flash of light to give the fans a split-second view of what was happening; Matt was still making his way to the ring. With each flash, he was closer. It was almost haunting to see the black-clad figure suddenly moving positions through the rain and darkness. I can't see where you comin' from...The drumbeat kicked back in on queue, the dark-blue lighting throughout the arena returning with it. Matt had shifted to stand at the steel steps, ascending up the platforms the moment the lights phased back in. He carried himself on the apron and stopped midway to step through the ropes, his trenchcoat dragging behind him. Once in the ring, he faced the right side of the arena with his head down to hide his face from view. He lifted his baseball bat up and slid it down his back, notching it in the custom holster on his trenchcoat meant specifically for the weapon. But I know just what you're runnin' from.
And what matters ain't the "who's baddest," but the
Ones who stop you fallin' from your ladder, 'cause...Right before the chorus began, The Storm grabbed his hood with his right hand as he pulled it from his head and tossed it back, revealing his clean shaven features to the world for the first time in 2015. With it, another booming thunder to echo through the arena; a lightning bolt followed and shot across the ceiling overhead as the lights flowed back into their normal, colorless hue. The pouring rain stopped, leaving the entire indoor arena damp.. His cold, calculated stare danced around the arena, glaring at the sea of spectators. The music began to die away as he looked over the mass of people in attendance. Before too long, he reached his right hand into his trenchcoat and pulled out a microphone, switching it on with a simple flick of his thumb. The fans gradually began to grow quiet; after all, this was the first time Matt had been seen since losing the WWF:G Legacy Championship to the former champion, Cyrus Everblaze. Would he be out here to clear the air months later? Surely not. Matt lifted the microphone up to his lips after getting a good glimpse of the crowd. "Some would say that it's been a long time since I stood in this ring. Others would say... it hasn't been long enough," Matt paused after taking a brief moment to address the mixed reaction he had been getting thus far. "It seems things have changed since Cyrus managed to overcome the odds last year. WWF:G is the host to a slew of new champions. Champions that are believed to lead a new generation in this industry. Along with them, a sea of fresh, new faces seem to be... filling the backstage area."The fans momentarily broke out in chants for their various favorite, newer competitors. However, the one that overwhelmed them all was the chants for Bad Boy. The underdog of the century, the new WWF:G Legacy Champion. A man that Matt had beaten down mere days before he originally lost the belt to Cyrus Everblaze. "And yes... Bad Boy, as well. Even the management has been given a breath of fresh life, with the former competitor Salem Croft. I've watched from afar as this new generation took over the company. I gazed down as the likes of Andrew Styles and Bad Boy won their championships at the Royal Rumble. I've seen each confrontation in and out of this ring since I left. And I've listened as a question continued to be whispered around the world... 'Who would The Storm face...'?"Shanahan turned his black pupils up to stare at the neon Wrestlemania attached to the rafters. He remained silent as his gazed at the sign, getting his predicted mixed approval of the audience. "'Who would The Storm face...?' It's a simple question, isn't it? Who would challenge The Storm at the biggest stage of the company. Who would Matt Shanahan face this year; would it be another legend in this industry? Would he challenge a new face? Would he answer the call of an old rival? Would he... be a champion again?" "The answer... is no one."The audience, which had been slowly hyped up by The Storm's question, was soon deflated as his bass-toned voice gave them all the answer. No one would challenge him at Wrestlemania. "No one will meet me in the ring at Wrestlemania, because not a single soul in this building could stand toe-to-toe with me long enough to even get a mention in the annals of Wrestlemania history. You see, the problem with the new generation, is that not a single one of them has earned these 'legacies' that they boast. Not a single champion, competitor, or management figure deserves to even be part of this legend that is WWF:G." Matt's words rang out through the arena with conviction, firm in the message they carried. His eyes darted around the crowd, noting their disapproval of his claim. "If you question my words, I want you to take a moment to reflect on this evening. What started as a celebration for a rightful Royal Rumble winner soon became one of the biggest ego-stroking contests in WWF:G history. Men without so much as a proper title reign intervened in an event where they had no business. Champions brought it upon themselves to outshine the others by appearing and polishing their belts in the face of one another. When Salem Croft finally showed up, it was only to boast about himself, as if he were above them all. And not a SINGLE claim... was one of true value." Matt turned to face the backstage area, his cold eyes glaring at the curtain as if he were looking at every person behind it. "I want you to take a moment and look at what a true legacy in this company looks like. It's not ONE title reign. It's not ALMOST winning the Royal Rumble. It's not simply BEATING your opponent. A true legacy in this company is one with accomplishments that only few can hold a torch to. Men like Nuke Fusion, Harli Drummond, Cartwright, Saint Joey, Cyrus Everblaze, Mike Landry, Jarel Damone; those are men worthy of the legacies that they would boast. Those are men that have earned the right to say that -they- have made an impact in this company. And not even those men... hold a candle to MY legacy." The Storm's words echoed around the arena, making his declaration clear for all to hear. If he thought that none of the roster could compare to the previous generations, how could they compare to him? "None of you will compare to my legacy, because mine is not simply a title reign. Mine is not winning the Royal Rumble. Mine is not being inducted into a Hall of Fame. Mine is not MADE at Wrestlemania..." Matt reached to his back to pull his baseball bat loose from its holster and point it back towards the Wrestlemania sign. As he did, he let out a single proclamation, "Mine IS Wrestlemania.""Every time I've stepped into the ring at Wrestlemania, I have faced some of the best men in this industry. I faced the legendary Mike Landry. I was challenged by The Dragon's little brother, Brandon Damone. I went to war with one of the most respected men alive, Kelly King. I dethroned and dismantled one of the best there is, Cartwright. Not one of them could beat me on my best day; not one of them left Wrestlemania on their own two feet."Matt's eyes danced around the arena, a small scowl appearing on his lips at the boos he was starting to get. "I had intended to return and offer the chance to challenge me once more. But... I would rather not have my legacy tarnished by ending the career of some rookie. After all... it's about all this company is made of no-"[Planned Interruption]
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Posted: Sun Feb 15, 2015 8:16 pm
Suddenly, Matt's microphone cut off, and the lights began to flicker wildly. A power cut? No. Something much more sinister. The lights went out, enveloping the arena in a palpable darkness. On the titantron, a strange, golden static began to flicker, eventually stopping to complete black stillness. At this moment, a voice began to speak. "I think I hear a name. Not... not an obvious one. Not Salem Croft, nor Mike Landry. Not Damone, or... Saint Joey."
The blackness of the screen was suddenly broken by a man stepping forward, a close up of his face absorbing the previously blank space on the titantron. A face which the fans of WWF:G knew, even if the man had failed to make his mark yet. "I think I heard "Legacy."
LEGACY's eyes darted to his left, as if he caught something in the corner of his eye, moving in the darkness. His line of sight slowly drifts upwards, as he avoids looking into the camera. "You know, Shanahan, we would say it's amusing, you standing there, talking about 'legacies' and your little history at 'Wrestlemania...' but quite honestly, we just don't see the funny side in things these days. Since our little disappearing act not long ago, things have been... different. Do you know where we've been, Shanahan? It's okay, keep your mouth closed, we'll tell you. Along with my brethren, we were in an accident. A plane crash. A huge, aluminium canister, falling from the sky."
LEGACY pointed upwards, his hand illuminated. "Look up to the sky, Shanahan. Look up, and tell me what you see. Do you know the beauty of that sentiment? It's that, no matter what day, no matter what country, that you can see something different. Each day, each week, each month, something entirely different. Sunshine. Nice, happy sunshine, beaming down on you. The night sky, full of stars to guide you. A storm, to... keep you alert. Aware of the violence of the cosmos. But Shanahan, what most people see, along with that beautiful horizon... is freedom. The sky is the answer to our souls, Shanahan. It's where the birds fly. It leads us to the promised lands. That one star, far away from home, on to the great adventure. But when we were up there, Shanahan... tell me, have you ever felt trapped by the sky?"
LEGACY leaned forwards, grasping his hands together, almost as if he were in prayer. He steadily rocked, backwards and forwards, his sight still offset. "But...
We weren't trapped. Not really. It's not that simple, Shanahan. It rarely is. You see, when we were up there, we had a strange little realisation. If we were to die up there, we wouldn't have died trapped. We'd have died completely free. It's not us that were trapped, Shanahan. It was you. While up there... quite literally facing the storm... something hit us. Something... an idea. A revelation. A message from somewhere."
From being clenched together, the forefingers on both of LEGACY's hands extended, pointing directly to Matt in the ring. For the first time, his sight narrowed, his pupils piercing the camera. "Matt. Speak to us. We're going to say something now, on a basic level, that everybody here can understand. Meet us in the ring, Matt. Not at Wrestlemania. This happens before Wrestlemania. Meet us at the next show, Matt. Sacrifice. Be a man of your word, Matt. Because something is waiting. Not us. Something special. It's the end times, Matt. The storm is petering out. The sky is clearing. And you're not in it- "
As soon as LEGACY spoke his final word, a brief moment of static hit before the screen cut out, and the lights came back on.
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Posted: Mon Feb 16, 2015 9:37 am
The Storm watched the titantron without any indication of interrupting the not-so-legendary Legacy. His dark, black eyes glared at the screen as he listened to this man challenged him to a match, yet it would not be on his turf? The Streak was unchallenged, but The Storm had much to answer for, it seemed.
After the lights came back on, Matt stood still in the center of the ring, microphone and Slugger still in his hands. He spent many a moment in silence, simply taking the time to glare at the titantron, as if waiting for the man to reappear. The fans were rather confused in all of this, it seemed; and Matt's silence wasn't helping their situation.
"How quaint. The poster-boy for this generation of WWF:G... The Legacy with no legacy.... a true testament to what's left of this place." Matt finally spoke when he lifted the microphone, demeaning his challenger right off the bat. "Out of all the people to dare speak to me, I wouldn't have thought it to be the man that hasn't even lived up to his name by a fraction. Normally, you'd be easiest of them all to ignore. But... you say, The Storm is... petering out?"
Matt paused to let the words sink in, getting a positive reaction from most of the crowd. Their dislike for The Storm seemed to only increase so far tonight. "The Storm... is petering out? Not only do you challenge me, but you insult me? I think you forget who I am, -LEGACY-. You forget that I AM the measuring stick of this industry. I AM the embodiment of a legacy in this company. I AM the ONLY.... God... left. The ONLY legacy... worth... remembering."
The Storm's words echoed through the arena, continuing to get the near mixed response he had all night. The jabs at his fellow 'gods' and every man or woman who had made a name for themselves in the pages of WWF:G weren't exactly helping his case, though.
"You wish to meet me at Unbroken? Consider it my parting gift to WWF:G then. My parting gift... of leaving you a broken, bloodied shell of a man. The skies are far from clearing, no... the clouds are only getting thicker. And at Unbroken... the skies will weep for you, LEGACY."
The challenge had been accepted. Matt would face LEGACY, a match that some would consider unheard of. The last student from the Saint's Dojo, meeting with the last man to align with the Saint. It was a match that could truly transcend all the rest at Unbroken.
As Matt finished speaking, a booming thunder echoed through the room, signaling for his theme song to play. He stayed in the ring, glaring at the stage. Something was on his mind... but no one knew what.
[Fade to Commercial.]
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