| Questions, Answers And A Blast From The Past; Showdown12 RP #1 | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jan 10 2008, 02:48 AM (118 Views) | |
| Brock Alyas | Jan 10 2008, 02:48 AM Post #1 |
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sVo Champion
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The scene pans into a torrential downpour of rain in what appears to be a poverty-stricken neighborhood. The architecture looks thousands of years old as if the first and second world war took place within the past five minutes. The roads are barren and the buildings look as if they’re about to collapse. Silence stalks the air as the rain drops hit the pavement with an un-canning essence of rhythm. For some reason, the camera angle is in a constant hop and step and it turns as it passes the women clothed in rags and the children occupying the streets of a lonely day. The camera angle slowly pans away from the first person view into a theatrical view, showing the main character a large man of about six and a half feet stalking the burdened area. For some reason, the character has no idea or recollection of why he is here or even what he is looking for. Instead he continues walking aimlessly through a series of poverty searching for the inner sign as to what he is here for and why he has come this far. Clothed in a long trench coat with a hooded sweatshirt with the hood covering him from being soaked and a pair of ripped jeans, the only attribute that stands out about him is his clean cut appearance and his impeccable size differential from the other beings. The man approaches what appears to have been formerly used as a four way intersection, with the stop sign closest to him being bent in a 90º angle due to wear and tear over the years of negligence to the area. The man stops and does a quick 360 to check the surroundings and determine if he’s found himself lost. He finds some shelter and pulls out a silver cigarette case and removes a cigarette from it. He appears to be searching for a lighter and finally realizes he must have forgot one, just as a young girl, couldn’t have been older than 7 hands him a Zipo. The man looks a bit confused and stares into the eyes of the young girl, who should be intimidated but stares right back. “Thank you, but aren’t you a bit young to be carrying a lighter?” the man asks. The girl replies with a brief chuckle and… “Oh, don’t worry about me… I was told to give this to you anyways,” The man looks confused and scratches his head as if to gather some sense within his journey. He looks down at the lighter and swears he’s seen it before. The scratch on the bottom left corner from when he showed his best friend how to use it off a cement wall… followed up with the initials that were given to him on the day of his birth engraved into it. “Where did you…” the man asks as the girl scurries off. “HEY WAIT!” The young girl stops and retreats a step as the man is trying to determine what his purpose is being here and what he is supposed to do. “How did you get this?” He asks the girl softly so she will not be frightened. “He gave it to me… he said you’d need it,” the girl replies as she points to the oldest building on the street. This made the other buildings look state of the art as the window panels were chipped off, the foundation was soaked and there was no door, just an entrance. Above the door hung a miniature sculpture of Jesus Christ himself, nailed a cross. The man peered at the building and exhales a deep sigh and curses under his breath… “Fuck… here we go again,” As he makes his way to the building, he flicks his lit cigarette to the right and begins a brisk jog towards shelter and out of the rain. As the man removes his hood, masking a shadow over his face the camera comes into realization that the man has been Brock Alyas all along, newly signed and highly regarded sVo prospect. Brock looks around the building as if he is familiar with it and eventually reaches underneath the two shirts he has stacked on his upper body and pulls out a long, dangling silver cross that hangs nearly 6 inches below his shoulders. Alyas kisses the cross before letting it hang on his chest and removes his coat and zipped up sweater on the coat rack beside the door. As Brock crosses into the path of righteousness, he completes the inner prayer in the form of “in the name of the father, the son and the Holy Spirit… amen” as his right index and middle finger touch in between his eyes, his chest, his left and right bicep… in that very order. Brock proceeds up the alter towards a huge, life sized portrayal of the Christian Saviour, Jesus Christ. He continues towards the statue kissing his own medallion and following up with another embrace of the lower body and kiss on the foot of the Lord. “It’s been a long time,” said a familiar voice to Brock. A smile appeared on the face of theJuggernaut as he paid his respects to the community reverend of his hometown of Detroit, Michigan more specifically in the Bates St. district that intersects with Cadillac and Monroe. “Reverend, it has… it’s nice to see you again” Brock replied as the men embraced. “I’m glad you’ve come back around, son. It’s nice to see you once again away from the glitz attached to you these days on television,” The comment brought an immediate change in facial expression over the face of Alyas, as he admits he has become star struck since his debut at sVo. “You’ve done well for yourself… as you can see, the old Church has been quite the same. We’re actually on our way out and shutting it down because of the gang violence within the community lately,” “That’s awful Reverend, if there’s absaloutely anything I can do to help the place out I’d be more than willing. I must owe you 6 months rent for all the nights I spent here,” “Don’t be silly, my son. You’ve contributed more than enough for this place, unfortunately… the kids these days just don’t have the inspiration and determination to be a successful individual, much like you had and have become my son,” The wise words of the Reverend brought Brock eyes to a close and forced him to appreciate and take pride in the life Brock has chose to lead. FLASHBACK… …the scene pans into a black-and-white scenario of an armed robbery taking place in downtown Detroit. The time-set must be between 2:30 – 3:00 am and those armed appear to be a group of Spanish-ess’es looking to rob a lavishly-dressed white man upon a night of drinking and socializing. The first coward steps up and uses the back end of his pistol to smash the white man to his knees, cowardly. “Ayyyeee puto, put yo fuckin hands in the air b,” the coward who smashed the man. “You not so tough now is you, b? You think you reeeal tough givin’ a whoopin to my cousin’ aye b?” this man obviously has a significant beef. “What the fuck are you talking about? Omar got his ass beat for jumpin’ my boys!” That’s when the Spaniards had enough and the man was sent to a fetal position covering all vital areas of his body as he drowned with kicks and punches to the head and face. WHAM! There’s one clear cut kick delivered to the head that fractures the skull of the clenched man and bloods begins to seap and eventually pour onto the pavement. “You never mess with the ess’es now, aye b? End your life next time b… spread the word… Spanish Mobb here to stay b,” END OF FLASHBACK… Brock snapped out of a trance while the Reverend was finishing a sentence… “…seem as though gangs have taken over this area since you left. I mean, it was awful when you were around but since you left, it seems like the minorities haven taken a stand… white kids barely show their face around here anymore,” “That’s awful, Rev. I don’t know what this area is all about anymore I guess. I mean, I was kind of in a daze about this opponent I have coming up this weekend and I’m not quite sure how to react to it. I think I sort of subconsciously brought myself back to the place I used to think when I was a kid because of how confused everything is getting to be,” “I see, son. We all go through times of hardship and confusion… it’s how we solve those hardships is the light our Lord views us under,” the Reverend says. “If you don’t mind… I think I’m going to clear my head a bit and pray before I make my way back to Vegas. You don’t mind, do you?” “Not at all, my son. I will be following you upon your path of righteousness, Brock. You take care, son,” Brock swallows the Reverend’s words with a grain of salt because he realizes he’s never been the model Christian. He was born and raised a Catholic as it was passed down the Alyas name and he never really took the religion serious until he was in his teenage years and began to get into a life of crime. He chose the Lord’s side to remain on the rest of his life and has felt a direct connection with him ever since. While he’s not 100% devoted, you will often find him saying a prayer that his father passed down to him, from years upon years ago from his ancestors. Brock had only learned the prayer long after his father passed away and the Reverend, who was close friends with Brock’s father taught it to him when he realized Brock began leading the life he was. And when I vest my flashing sword, And my hand takes hold in judgment, I will take vengeance upon mine enemies, And I will repay those who haste me O Lord, raise me to Thy right hand, And count me among Thy saints. “It’s come to my attention that I have a battle on my hands… a battle that is much more challenging than my last… and a battle that has become more necessary for me to continue my path of success. A battle that is arguably the most important in my career, yet. A battle that will place me within the ranks of sVo’s best and on a path to become sVo’s first Las Vegas Champion,” “It’s also come to my attention that my up-coming opponent is a whack luchadore who puts his body and life on the line not only in the ring… but also during promotions,” “El Gimicko came to the sVo and us in the back kind of got a quick laugh at his entrance to the company, being shipped here in a box. I mean, it’s highly stereotypical that a man of Mexican-descent comes to America in a box, right?” “Well that smile was whipped off each and every one of our faces when this man was preparing for his opponent last week in Peter Gilmour, a jobber with no sense of ring experience of even how to entertain. This man was literally being hit with weapon upon weapon to show his toughness and philosophy of wrestling. His manager was breaking glass tubes, beer bottles and anything he could find not over the body, but face of his luchador,” “While some may find this intimidating, I find his approach to the hardcore style match humorous because if he wants to whoop his own ass to try and show the Juggernaut he’s a maniac… I’d highly suggest against giving me any sort of odds that are already highly stacked in my favour,” “The sVo got a true taste of who Brock Alyas is last week when I dismantled that loser, Night. I mean, the kid could fly and for a minute he was workin’ me, but I bounced back and he just couldn’t handle what I had to bring. I also got a taste of that El Gimicko brings to the ring and that is, much like Night a high flyer who doesn’t think twice about putting his body on the line. So, all in all, there isn’t much more preparation I have to do than I already did last week,” “I’ve had the bitter taste of defeat in my mouth after the debut loss to Stevo and mark my words… glory will not shut me down once more in the sVo. My entire life, I’ve been given something… cherished it, done whatever it takes to protect it and keep it in my life and by the strike of God, each and every one of those things has been taken from me and ripped from my grasp. Dear Lord, I will not give in so easy this time. Las Vegas gold is literally on the line for me this week because once I defeat El Gimicko, all eyes are on the prize in terms of Las Vegas gold because I know some Indy-Loser in the name of C.Gay Newfield isn’t going to be a problem in terms of Brock Alyas remaining title-less,” “You heard me you little fuck. You’re next in line and when I get my hands on you I’m going to skull fuck you from here to LaLa Land, much like on Showdown09. Remember? Or did the smelling salts Sonny FuckHead Carter use to wake your ass up from a comatose derange your memory and have you sucking your thumb, asking for mommy?” “Newfield, you’re hardly a problem for me. You’re a joke in terms of a man and a cretin in terms of a wrestler. The only reason you’re even around is to be Carter’s henchmen and strap on the knee pads when he’s feeling “frisky”. Face it chump, the only way anyone will even know your name is when you Career is Ended by the Juggernaut. You’ll be a poster boy alrite, a poster boy of how to get fucked,” “You are so far away from my worries it’s embarrassing. You’re not even on my radar here and I’ll be damned if you and your crew of idiots try and fuck with the Beast’s title shot…” “Back to this week… like I said Gimicko, I won’t lie… I’ll give you props on taking the cake your first week here… you’re a step ahead in terms of record… but this weekend? I’m miles ahead of you in ring experience, endurance, size, strength and strategy. I’ve wrestled in Japan, I’ve wrestled in Mexico… I’ve seen the high flying acrobatics around the world and you’re just another jobber I’m going to have to eliminate on my way to glory…” “I will take vengeance Gimicko… vengeance in the form of your life and soul,” |
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-Macc Handler of Brock Alyas Record - 5 - 2 Division Manager KFlawFanClubMember#5643
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6:54 PM Jul 11