|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Fri May 23, 2014 2:57 pm
The aftermath of Showdown was beginning to unfold as the show began at its prompted time. The fans were filling into the arena, still faithful the product that had been rumored to be slipping away. There was still a good roster and a show promised, so they would continue to show their support. While they anticipated the show to begin with a match-up, the sound of deafening thunder broke through the air, strong enough to send the lights into a seizure of dysfunction. Before they could recover, a bright flash filled the area... and then there was darkness. No lights, no emergency power, not even cellphones seemed to light the arena. The fans immediately began to cheer for what always followed the thunder and lightning: The Storm. A lone guitar began to quietly play over the sound system, mixing in with the distinct sound of raindrops hitting steel. It was as if the lands of Evolution were plagued with rain at every showing; as long as The Storm reigned supreme, that was guaranteed. Short Change Hero - The HeavyThe slow, haunting intro to the familiar theme music echoed through the darkness, building hope in the Shanahan fans in the massive room. And here, almost every fan was a Shanahan fan. He had spent most of the past year trying to represent the fans in his own way, to find them a proper champion to lead Evolution into the future; he knew it wouldn't be him. The fans loved him anyways, though. Their cheers only reached a crescendo as the twanging guitar began to slow... and as the song's intro ended, they screamed for the Evolution Champion. And with them... 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 small flame to spark around it. 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 it had indeed been drizzling on the stage, ramp, and around the ring; the ramp itself was hardly visible through the small screen of fog that covered it. The music kicked back in, now with a distinct drum beat to it. The center of the stage was wide open with dense fog pouring out from the hole in the stage, and a figure 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 roaring fans knew who he was. The platform kept rising as the song went on and the drizzling rain slid off of his trenchcoat. He needed no introduction; the fans knew this man was Matt Shanahan. The title belt barely visible beneath his trenchcoat gave that away.  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, which was empty and waiting for him. It baffled the fans, because they weren't used to him making an appearance so early. Yet, here he stood. 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, Matt stopped in the middle of the ramp to slightly turn his head to the left and right, taking in the size of the cheering crowd. The fans he promised a bright future to, when The Storm no longer reigned over them. And yet, they cheered as if the future were already before them. His eyes glanced about before glaring back towards the ring as a bell tolled; on cue, the lights flashed out with another streak of lightning coursing overhead. 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. Now, The Storm was standing at the steps to the ring and beginning his ascent up them. He walked onto the apron and stepped through the middle and top rope to enter the ring, turning on heel to stare out at the crowd from underneath his hood. 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, Shanahan brought his free hand up to grab his hood by the rim and pull it back, revealing his clean-shaven features. His black locks were slicked back in his usual style, and his black eyes were in their typical near-bloodshot state. The moment he pulled his hood back, another booming thunder to echo through the arena. A lightning bolt shot across the ceiling overhead as the lights flowed back into their normal, colorless hue. The drizzling rain stopped, leaving the outside area and the ramp wet, along with some unfortunate fans who paid a well earned salary for their Front Row Seats. 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."The music faded with it's last line as Matt stood before the fans, baseball bat in hand and his trenchcoat adorning his thick figure. Beneath the folds of his coat, the Evolution Championship was clearly visible. A belt that he had carried since mid-2013, a belt that he had ripped right from Chrono Clepsydra's grasps; who else could say that? The fans continued to roar and chant for their champion, even as he stood there without any notion of speaking. He simply continued to turn about and gaze at the sea of adoring men and women. People that loved to see him in this ring, people that had journeyed with him on this road to find the perfect champion. Eventually, The Storm reached into his leather trenchcoat and pulled out a microphone, gripping it loosely in his gloved hand. Tonight... the Storm would speak. [Planned, no interruptions unless stated]
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri May 23, 2014 3:27 pm
"... September 9th, 2013. That is the day that I took the Evolution Championship back from Major Devastation," The Storm paused long enough for the fans' cheers to register before continuing on, "After that night, I made a promise to every fan of WWE:E. I promised you all that I would find a man that was worthy of holding this title and carrying you all into a bright, new future. A future Evolution could be proud of. The Tyrannical Era is long dead, The Era of Devastation was squashed before it could ruin these lands, and now we find ourselves in The Storm's Reign. A mere transitional period to finding a man good enough to carry on the legacy of Evolution. At least... this was meant to be a transitional period..."
Shanahan's words trailed off for a moment, bringing the fans to the edge of their seats. What could he mean now?
"... I am beginning to realize that this is -not- a transitional period for WWE:E. Before I continue... allow me to apologize to you all. Not only have I failed you..." Matt's baseball bat wielding right hand raised to point at the stage, directing the attention towards the curtain, "... every single man and woman in the back has failed you."
"I issued the challenge to -every-... -single-... -person-. I told the world that if and when I found a challenger worthy of representing you all, I would let him reign! I would let him carry Evolution into the future! But not a single man or woman has proved to be up for the challenge! Instead, I get the greediest of infants knocking at my door! They all have claimed that it was -their- time to shine, which automatically set them up for failure; this belt is not about them gaining fame, it's about giving you fans a reason to ******** be here!"
"But I answered their calls, still. I allowed them to -try- to take this belt from me. And each time... they -failed-. Why? Is it because of their greed? Because they weren't good enough? Because I barely scooped up the victory? No... it's because NO ONE knows how to live up to this belt's call... the call to EVOLVE."
Matt paused to lower his weapon to his side, beginning to slowly pace across the ring as he spoke once more, "No, not one of them has shown signs of evolution. Hiro Shin-Mozas tried, and he proved that he still the same tantrum throwing, glory-hungry child he has been since day one. Omega proved that he still has nothing but apathy for this company. Major Devastation is -gone-, simple as that. Disciple, my most recent challenger, has proven that he still only relies on his size and can't go anywhere without his uncle! Every single goddamn challenger I've had has stuck to their roots, it has cost them! While they kept to their same tactics, I have evolved! I have changed and adapted in this ring, just to give them an example of what -I- expect the next champion to exhibit! Did any of them get the hint? NO! They did not!"
"And even those that haven't answered the call, that are just competing here for the sake of competing; I've watched them, and they're in the same boat. They cruise on by with the pathetic fools that have stood to me before. But they ride on waters that are tormented by The Storm, and unless they learn how to adapt, NONE of them will survive! NONE of them will lead the lands of Evolution into the era it so desperately needs! This company will die, and The Storm's Reign will be the last thing it's remembered for at this rate! I stand before you as the True Evolution Champion, because I am the only one that has remotely evolved! So, ladies and gentlemen, I apologize! I apologize for failing in finding you a proper champion to give you the future you all need! I apologize for not giving them all a better example! And most of all, I apologize for the pathetic lot in the back that can't even -try- to bea-"
[Planned]
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat May 24, 2014 9:18 am
"Hold it right there, Matt!"
A voice interrupted over the PA system, cutting off the Evolution Champion mid-sentence as Salem Croft stepped out from behind the curtain, absent of any entrance music or video package heralding his arrival. The crowd sparked to life for the former Asylum Champion, bold enough to interrupt "The God of Punks" during his tirade about the current talent - or lack thereof - in Evolution. Though sweat clung to his brow, it was uncertain whether the set lights or his match earlier in the night with Claire Hawkins had brought out the beads of perspiration...perhaps, it was standing in the presence of the stunned Shanahan, knowing that the company's premiere titleholder wouldn't appreciate having his time taken up with interruptions. Nonetheless, Salem seemed to be taking it slow, standing on the stage as the crowd died down enough to bring the microphone in his hand up towards his lips.
"...Now, I'm sure you're not too surprised to see me out here, Matt." Salem said, staring down at "The Storm" with his dark eyes from behind his black, quilled bangs. "After all, I'm probably another one of those young bucks you think is just full of hot air..."
Before he continued, "The Most Wanted Man in Wrestling" started to descend the ramp, nonchalantly stepping across the grated steel while fans cheered and took pictures from the barricades neighboring him.
"...I mean, sure - I did manage to unseat The Number Three for the Asylum Championship, once upon a time...but since losing the belt, I've been adrift. So yeah, I bet I qualify as being full of 'hot air'...but let me assure you, Shanahan, I'm still full of steam, I'm still full of drive, and that's going to take me straight to the top!"
Starting up the ring steps, the motivated audience was getting hyped up by Salem's mic work, who now wasted no time ducking under the turnbuckle and making his way to the center of the ring, standing before the Evolution Champion. Though his fists were wrapped and Matt was armed, Salem didn't take a swing at Shanahan - instead, the M.W. Deuce opted to continue taking his jabs verbally, bringing the mic back up to his mouth with a sliver of a smile on his lips.
"After all, it's simple science, Matt...hot air rises, it condenses, it starts churning with momentum and before you know it...a storm brews. You call yourself the 'God of Punks', a category I think I belong to...but that's because before me, it was you who came out here, pushing the envelope, raising the bar of what people should expect, what they could expect - on the mic, in the ring, you've been the example of greatness that people can't help but look up to...but, Matt, I'm done looking up to you. I'm done waiting for my chance to step up, I'm done blowing smoke and huffing hot air into microphones about how I'm going to make change in this industry, and I'm chomping at the bit to prove you wrong about me, about guys like me - don't forget! You're standing in the ring with the 2013 Rookie of the Year...before me, people didn't have hope for the future of this industry...they were just given hollow promises and shallow expectations for what a rookie could do. But the winds are changing, Matt, and I'm done holding myself back! So if you want a real challenge, what say you put that belt on the line against me, because if there's anyone around here up to the challenge, if there's anybody in the back who's out to establish themselves as a force of nature in this company, it's the M.W. Deuce! The "Most Wanted Man in Wrestling"! Salem Croft!"
Fans were on their feet now, standing up out of excitement for the potential clash between Matt and Salem, both men standing nearly chest to chest with one another. Despite Salem's bravado, the Evolution Champion wasn't one to turn away a challenge, but the M.W. Deuce didn't back up, either - instead, taking a moment to stare down the company's flagbearer a moment as the tension escalated with the crowd noise. Slipping his spare hand into his pocket, Salem withdrew a pair of pennies, dropping the copper to the canvas between them...
"...That's my two cents, and you can take it straight to the bank." he said smoothly, lowering his mic without faltering his gaze.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat May 24, 2014 1:11 pm
The interruption caught the crowd off-guard, but not The Storm. In fact, the only sign of emotion he gave the interruption was a turn of his head and an arched eyebrow. While the '2013 Rookie of The Year' rambled on and made his way to the ring, Matt turned about fully to face him, giving no indication of interrupting or remote emotion to the man's words. When he was done with his piece, the microphone slowly rose back to Shanahan's lips, the cold gaze of The Storm trained on the smaller man.
"...Salem Croft. Rookie of the Year... Asylum Champion... and... The biggest 'flash' in years..." Matt muttered into the microphone in response, his tone thick with disdain.
"I can see that, like the rest of the people in the back, you still don't get it. You still think... this is about -you-. This is about your legacy, your era, your... accomplishments. And you would be right, in every other case. But... that's not what this title represents, kid," The Storm paused to drop his baseball bat down to the mat, letting it bounce against the canvas. His now free left hand grabbed onto the title belt around his waist and ripped it off, holding it up to face level for both men to get a good glance at the Evolution Championship. "This belt represents EVOLUTION. The belt represents changing who you ARE. Adapting to EVERYTHING. Breaking your NORM. Something no one in this company has done... in years. And you, Salem Croft... are the prime example of that."
Matt lowered the belt down to his side, his glare narrowed in on the man. "Tell me what you've done that's worth merit since you took the Asylum Championship from The Number Three. Because as I remember it, he beat you within an inch of your life mere seconds afterwards. Then, you lost it to a fool who made it out to be nothing more than an oversized piece of jewelry. And since... I had almost forgotten you were getting paid by WWE:E. I had forgotten that you compete in this ring. I had forgotten you were anything short of... Justin Amaze. Though the difference there is... he could actually back up his words."
Matt took a step back, even going so far as to turn his back to Salem as he paced to the other side of the ring. "That's all you bring me, Croft... Words. The same words I hear you deliver each and every night. You're full of drive, you're full of steam... you're going to prove everyone -wrong-..." With a whip of his head, The Storm turned back to face Salem, his icy gaze locking onto the smaller man immediately. "And you -fail-. Every. Night. You fail your opponents, you fail these people, and you fail yourself. You come out here telling me to put my belt on the line against you, let you challenge for it, when you don't even hear what I say! I don't want a challenger, Croft. I want a champion. I want a figure that can lead these people into a prosperous era for WWE:E, because I do not want the last memory of this company to be The Storm's Reign. To me... you've already failed the first test: humility."
Shanahan took his time to pace back towards the man, his steps as haunting as ever as he inched closer to the hopeful challenger. "You want to come out here boasting your few accomplishments? You want to come out here and -mock- me? You've a lot to learn, Croft. You want a shot to prove that you deserve to be the new era of WWE:E?... Take your words, get out of -my- ring, and prove it." The Storm's voice was driven with a direct, commanding tone. It was clear what he thought of Salem and all of his talk. The ball was in his court now.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat May 24, 2014 3:07 pm
Salem watched as Matt faced him and dropped the bat, brandishing the belt that he'd set his sights on. He could even see himself in its shine, taking a liking to the idea of his name written across it, but turning his eyes back towards "The Storm" once he lowered the championship down to his side. For a moment, Salem sported an almost child-like smile as he peered into his reflection across the world title, but it was now dispelled - the glitter of gold gone from his eyes and replaced with a cold, stern stare towards the Evolution Champion. But despite the hard shots Matt took towards the M.W. Deuce's pride as he paced around the ring, parading Salem to be a perpetually short-sighted superstar, Croft instead let out a faint chuckle, sizing Matt up once the champion ceased talking by starting his own waltz around the ring...
"Heh...you know, I find it funny that someone who calls themselves a 'God' is preaching to me about humility. But more than that, I find it a tad disappointing that in spite of that lovely rant about evolution and change, you're holding me to the same standard you've become so comfortable with...the good ol' Justin Amaze analogy. Well, let me tell you somethin', Matt..." Salem said forebodingly, stepping around Matt's back and sweeping his bat off the mat with a swift flick of his foot. Coming up from around Shanahan's blindspot on his other side, Salem continued his methodical march around the ropes, smirking a little.
"I'm not Justin Amaze. I'm not like these other guys you've come to be disappointed by. Yes, I've had my shortcomings. My path hasn't been a pretty one, and Lord knows I've set myself up for failure more times than I'd like to admit...but I'm still here, Matt. I'm still standing, still breathing, still fighting. And unlike everyone else in the back, unlike these guys you've stepped into the ring with so far...my failures have only made me a better, smarter, more determined person. You look at my losses like it makes me a weaker man, but I've always believed that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, and I'm a helluva lot stronger now than I was then."
Facing Matt at this point from the ropes, Salem slowly started approaching the champion, fearless in his posture and unwavering in his stride. Though some tried to take the opportunity to cheer, Croft quickly cut them off when he brought the microphone back up to his lips again, once more standing before the Evolution Champion, Matt Shanahan.
"But Matt, you can label me with any title you want. Overrated, short-sighted, cocky, arrogant, unaccomplished...I know you've accumulated plenty of titles yourself across your star-studded career. But right now, I'm not concerned about "The God". I'm not concerned about "The Storm". The only thing I'm concerned about is that title...the one in your hand, there."
Gesturing with his free hand towards the championship title hanging at Matt's side, Salem turned his attention from the beauty of a belt back to Shanahan's eyes, stepping back a little as the fans started to chant in unison
"EVO-LUTION!"
"...Heh. See? Even these fans want it...'evolution'. But you're right - as long as you're holding that belt, we won't see any evolution here...because you're the past, Matt. You're a dying breed. I'm the new blood. I'm the next-generation. We all fail, we all stumble and fall sometimes, but progress is inevitable...and you can tell me I'm not good enough, you can say I don't deserve to stand in the ring with you, Matt, you can cling to your age-old standards of what you've come to expect from people, but let me tell you something, Matt - don't judge me. Don't make the mistake of underestimating me, of ignoring the heart in my words, here, because the second you get complacent -"
Suddenly, Salem would shoot forward with a snap of his hips, looking to catch the champion by surprise with a Superkick to the chin after trying to lull him in with his talking!
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat May 24, 2014 4:54 pm
The Storm remained unphased as the man continued to talk on and on, as he only continued to prove his point. The only part that sparked his attention was the claim that he didn't show evolution. He had shown more evolution in the past few months than anyone. Beating Disciple with a roll-up, countering Omega's dropkick with an ankle lock, inverting his own finisher to put Cartwright out, even wearing down Disciple with submission holds in their last match. Things that a year ago, Shanahan never would've done. But, just as he had said before, his example had gone unseen. And for that, he had apologized.
Before The Champion could respond, Salem shot his foot up and cracked it against The Storm's jaw. The champion's head shot backwards and he began to topple; people were sure he was going down on his a** after such a well executed kick. But he continued to stumble until his back hit the ropes, halting his course. The crowd was split, but it sounded as if The Champion had them on his side. Regardless, it didn't phase him; his focus needed to be elsewhere. His head went back down...
... and his eyes locked onto the failed assailant. The cold, calculated gaze of The Storm pierced right through Salem, threatening him with the wrath he had given every other competitor.
The Champion had dropped his belt along the way, leaving his hands free. He began to push off the ropes, sure that Salem was going to capitalize before he could put up his own assault.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat May 24, 2014 5:36 pm
A majority of the crowd gasped when the superkick connected, causing Matt's head to whip back as he was sent reeling into the ropes behind him. Meanwhile, the belt had fallen from the champion's grip upon impact, the golden glory glimmering across the canvas at Salem's feet. Though "The Storm" seemed slightly disoriented as Croft knelt down to clutch the championship title, he'd managed to shoot Salem the stare of death he'd given many a fallen foe - just in time for the challenger to be eye-level in his crouch. But Salem merely smiled as he straightened back up, cradling the belt in his hands with a taunting glint to his eyes. What was he about to do? What was about to happen? These questions and more raced through the minds of those in attendance, but perhaps none more concerned than Shanahan as he pushed off from the ropes, looking to approach the challenger.
But no sooner would Matt start to stand would Salem sling the championship title across the ring at the wounded warrior, tossing it to "The God of Punks" with a scoff-like chuckle. Shaking his head, Salem started backing up towards the ropes, not being so stupid as to turn his back to the Evolution Champion, but fearless enough to bring his microphone back up to his mouth to add some insult to injury.
"Take your title, Shanahan..." he chided, ducking his head underneath the top rope before following suit with his legs, still facing the face of the company. "I hope you've enjoyed "The Storm"...because like I said, the winds of change are a-blowin', and the next time I see you in a wrestling ring...it'll be with that belt on the line."
Dropping backwards off the apron, Salem smirked, flourishing with his empty hand while taking a bow toward the Evolution Champion as he shuffled backward towards the incline leading up to the stage. Dropping the microphone, the M.W. Deuce would turn around at the mouth of the ramp, looking to make his way back up the aisle and towards the curtain leading to backstage.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun May 25, 2014 12:45 am
The Champion didn't strike the smaller man after being hit by the kick, instead letting Salem have his moment. Despite the rage in his gaze, his face gave away no emotion, giving fans no hint to how The Storm felt about all of this. After the child of a man retreated with his tail between his legs, Matt leaned down to pick up his baseball bat off the mat, ignoring his championship for the moment being. Drawn up to his full height, Shanahan moved towards the center of the ring, watching Croft make his way back up the ramp.
If there was one thing Matt knew about Salem, it was how determined he was to get the last word, to send the last message in every encounter. A small smirk could be seem faintly crossing The Storm's lips, a sight that hadn't been seen in months. His eyes glanced down at his feet, as if to contemplate his own actions... but Salem had already left the ring, right?
The Storm's eyes raised to glare at the back of Salem's head as he neared the top of the ramp. Suddenly, he whipped his right arm back with the back in hand, causing his trenchcoat to flow open on the right side as he did. He brought it flying forward and pointed directly at the back of Croft's head. As if on queue, a boom of thunder shook the arena... and a bolt of lightning flew down from the rafters, aiming to strike the center of the stage with a small explosion right before Salem took his step off the ramp!
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun May 25, 2014 6:34 am
BOOM!!!
Just as Salem stepped foot onto the stage, a sudden burst of lightning would strike the platform a few meters ahead of him, setting off an explosive burst of fire and sparks as the crack of thunder rippled through the arena. While the fans cheered, Croft flinched, halting mid-step and ceasing his walk across the stage. His back still to Matt, the mobile camera crew was moving up the ramp, trying to get a reaction shot from Salem before he decided to depart the arena. Their efforts were made easier by the M.W. Deuce's about-face, spinning around to stare back at the Evolution Champion with a twist of his hips.
Despite coming across as so confident and collected before, the spike in temperature mere feet away had nearly seared his nostrils, bringing a thin layer of sweat back to his brow. Though he didn't speak, it was obvious by the expression Salem bore that he found the act of intimidation unsettling, or perhaps it was just the sulfuric smell getting to him - a byproduct of the blast he had stood in the presence of. Regardless, one thing was certain. He'd gotten under the God's skin. Just as the crew was starting to encircle Salem, however, the young man took an abrupt turn back towards the stage, waving off the cameramen as he approached the curtain that lead to the backstage area. A thin layer of smoke clinging to the platform as he passed across it, the M.W. Deuce took his leave of the audience and departed back from whence he'd came.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
