| Raven RP#1 | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Mar 5 2010, 05:21 AM (48 Views) | |
| The Corporation | Mar 5 2010, 05:21 AM Post #1 |
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Back and forth. Coming and going. Back and forth. Things in a tailspin. Consistency, that’s what Sanctioned Violence Organization was lacking. Nothing was straightforward and consistent anymore, and Showdown will be proof of that. The Corporation had once again grown in both force and number by recruiting one new member in Juliana Torres. But still, the former events were nothing but fuel to a fire that had already been sparked into existence within Raven’s mind and soul. A few weeks back Raven thought he had fallen prey to a fire of rage, but that was nothing, it seemed, compared to the one of forest-fire proportions that now hissed and roared and flared up within the heart of him. But what had bought it into being? Nothing more than an announcement. An announcement in the shadow of which all the aforementioned events paled in comparison. An announcement that stated that all matches - such as Eaven's own one versus Nathan Paradine - were tournament matches for the SVO Heavyweight Championship. Only winners advance and everyone wants to be the champion of the world. Although most people would consider this to be a pleasant development in one way or another, Raven deemed it the opposite. It was a development that threw Raven's plans into disarray and turned everything inside out and upside down. It had been an announcement that served as the ultimate proof that the Sanctioned Violence Organization was crumbling into chaos. It had been an announcement that revealed once and for all that something needed to be done. Raven knew that he was just the person to do it. And do it he would. He would once again alter and adapt and formulate new plans, all in the spirit of bringing the Sanctioned Violence Organization back on track, as he believed was his purpose. But that would come later. As the scene opened, the fire of fire was burning out of control and growing continuously, and Raven only had two things on his mind: Dark thoughts, born from the fires of rage like a great phoenix, and his need for someone to take those dark thoughts out on; someone to make an example out of. February 21th 2010 - Phillips Arena, Atlanta, Georgia - Post-Shockwave. Although the fire burned within, it was no manifesting itself as a hallucination as it had before. The corridor, however, was still in a state of disorder. Various cleaners and backstage workers loomed a little way in the distance. With annoyed expressions on their faces and sighs frequently exhaling from their mouths, they are busy clearing up pieces of broken glass, popcorn kernels and crushed beer cans from the floor. Just one of the remnants of Logan Alexander's reign of destruction. A little way beyond them crouches a group of medics. They are talking to two vendors who are sat with their backs against the concrete wall. Their eyes are semi-glazed over and once in particular looks especially dazed, as if all he wants is to collapse right there and then, and slip back into unconscious. Three of the medics continue to chat to him as the others take the second vendor by the shoulders and assist him into the short walk to a wheelchair that has been set up for him. Sitting down in the wheelchair’s black-cushioned seat, he groans in pain and says, “If I ever see those jackasses again, and there’s a big stick handy, I’ll show them who they’re messing with.’ This particular comment travelled down the corridor just enough to flow into Raven's ears and register somewhere in the back of his mind. The corner of his lips turned up into a small fraction of a smile but that was to be the first of only three reactory responses he would make until he returned home to Boston. Keeping only his thoughts for company. The second came only a few moments later. He reached the area where the cleaners and backstage workers were still hard at work, groaning and echoing the vendor’s comments about Logan Alexander. He was gone now - wheeled off to the makeshift medical unit - but the Spartacus-esque bravery he had created still remained. ...Until Logan Alexander actually shows his face again, Raven imagined. Maybe he would do, Raven went on to wonder as the mixture of broken glass and popcorn crackled beneath his heavy black boots. He was oblivious to the dirty looks and muttered comments that were now directed at him. And then, No. He may be running riot but he's doing so against Toxic Melody. They’re time to be shown the true way would come. But not yet. The enemy of my enemy is my......no, not friend......ally. Yes, that would do. Sort of. Even if he was in the way of himself finishing off Toxic Melody. It was on this thought that Raven’s shoulder knocked against one of the workers - a bearded black man Raven would later think of as a poor Mr. T look-alike - as he moved between him and a medic still checking of the second, and very likely concussed, vendor. He gave neither a dirty look nor a muttered, under-his-breath comment but Raven could not ignore what he did give, a firm punch to the back of his shoulder. ‘Watch where you're going, jackass.’ Raven still never spoke, barely even thought, he merely stopped dead in his tracks. He flew around, causing the hem of his jacket to coast up into the air slightly. His hand, he realised, had been clenched since he began his blind wandering of the corridors. Very handy to land a punch right between the worker’s eyes. They rolled up suddenly and he barely had a chance to groan before he dropped his broom and slumped against the wall. Watch who you’re talking to, fool, Raven thought to himself, but never let the words pass beyond his own mind, especially as he envisioned the last word as being spoken in a mock Mr. T accent. Instead, Raven glared at him with furious and violent intent. Had the vendor not chosen that moment to give up the ghost and slip back to the floor and descend into a forced sleep, Raven might have stepped forward and added to the job but instead turned and continued his journey out of the building, thinking the whole time that if and when he ever did face Logan Alexander again, it would be one hell of a battle. **** The rest of the journey back to Boston was uneventful, with only the occasional annoying question thrown at him by taxi drivers (‘Don’t I know you from some place?’) and air hostesses ('Can I get you anything, hun?’). Neither of them even granted a cursory glance in response, although his fist strangely remained clench - throbbing slightly from the force of the punch he delivered. Something that definitely wasn’t helping his reputation. Such thoughts of his reputation bought up another potential victim to suffer at the hands of the rage which still burnt seemingly infinitely within him. Nathan Paradine, after all, is his first round opponent, and had been a major part of the announcement surrounding Showdown and thus part of the cause for his disruption in plans. But, as pleasurable as that sounded, Raven had watched with a fascinated interest his upcoming war with Nathan Paradine. And was waiting with especially baited interest for the time when Nathan Paradine would finally be able to shut his mouth for good. I’ll be watching from the shadows, though, waiting to strike if he should fail. After the match he had shared with DVD a few weeks ago, however, his respect for him had grown somewhat and he actually had only less than a minimal doubt that he would succeed. Other names entered his mind, some with meaning: Johnny All Star.? No. I’ve better threats, for now. Joseph Equinox? Perhaps, but not yet. Wait and watch what comes next from him. Billy Ransom? Hmmmm. The other names, in retrospect seemed equally random and pointless: Orlando Fox, Roscoe Shame, the new guy The Teacher. No...No...No!! It was damn frustrating. Someone needed to suffer and suffer badly. And before he knew what happened, he awoke from his daze like a man awaking from an hypnotic trance, to find he was standing outside the apartment building he currently resided. A taxi driver leaning out of the window of his cab behind him, impatiently waiting for payment. ‘Ahem,’ he said., and then cough to emphasis his impatience. Raven turned and threw him a menacing glance as he reached into his pocket. ‘Puh-lease. I used to drive in New York,’ The cab driver scoffed. ‘I’ve seen worse stares than that.’ Raven smirked slightly at the man’s own fire, making up the third of the three reactory responses, as he handed out more than the fare was. He turned and walked up the litter-covered, stone steps of the apartment block immediately, not waiting for the change; not wanting it. The cab driver never hesitated either and sped off down the road as Raven entered through the swing door. Johnny Sanders was sat on a stool behind the counter, as per usual, with the chess set resting before him, again, as per usual. He looked up as the familiar sound of Raven's boots on the corridor's tiled floor fell upon his increasingly deteriorating ears drums. 'Back for more, are you?' he said in his usual smug tone of voice, despite the fact that all three games they had played overall had ending with Raven garnering the victories. Raven didn't retort, however, as Johnny's voice fell deafly upon his own ear drums. The sound of his mind's voice was all in that moment: There must be someone...there must be someone. A perfect example to be made. Think, damn it, think!! And think he continued to do under he reached the staircase. He had barely grabbed the handrail with his right hand when Johnny's face produced and uncompromisingly furious expression. His fist slammed on the wooden counter, causing the chess pieces to quiver like miniature people trapped within an earthquake. 'Oh, too good for us little people now.' For the second time in twenty-four hours, Raven stopped and turned. He had no intention of violence this time, although you wouldn't have been able to tell from the equally unyielding anger burning in his eyes. 'Not...now.' he said slowly, giving his first vocal response since Shockwave came to a close. ‘I have things on my mind.’ ‘Don’t we all, ya num nuts.’ He turned suddenly and marched up the stairs, not hearing what Johnny had said, which was probably for the best. Even Raven couldn‘t have said how he would have reacted to such a comment being directed at him His room was on the third floor and stood at the end of the corridor. To some, given the dark and gloominess of the corridor, it might have been eerie to walk along it. To Raven, however, it was comforting and he headed through it without letting up the pace even slightly, taking the key out of his pocket as he went. Unlocking the door as quickly as he had walked, he wooshed into the room like a strong breeze through an open window. It was exactly how he had left it which was extremely handy given he wanted to be in and out quickly. He hadn’t quite decided where he was going to go, exactly, but an intuition said here was not the place. He rushed around the room, gathering the things he deemed necessary: change of clothes etc... lasting of all, remembering to grab the black bag from under the bed. He was surprised at how close he had been to forgetting it - an object that had only a few weeks ago seemed massively important and instrumental to his signing to SVO. A clear sign of the corrupting influence the company as it currently stood. This thought, a brief distraction, quickly too him to the main one that had followed him all the way from Atlanta: An example must be made! But who? he continued to wonder as he grabbed hold of the bags and headed towards the door. He had kicked it shut as he had entered but stopped short of opening it again as he reached it, for there, tacked to the wood was the answer. It was in the form of a sheet of paper but one not like the others. It was not folded and upon it was not a handwritten message; instead, it was the booking sheet for the first Showdown of the new era. A section had been circled in black marker: SVO CHAMPIONSHIP TOURNAMENT MATCH RAVEN VERSUS. NATHAN PARADINE. Raven was fully aware of the smirk that spread the entire length of his face and the flash of dark intent in his eyes. How could I have been so stupid? Raven thought. It’s so obvious. It was perfect. He was the heavy favorite coming into the match since not many know Raven in SVO. He was the perfect person to take his anger out upon and to prove his dominance ahead of the Resurrection PPV which will be the night he conquers the prestigious SVO World Heavyweight Championship. The smirk was remained as he marched the rest of the door, snatched the booking sheet from the door and left. The world had evened out, and everything had become so clear. He knew exactly where he needed to go next. It was just a matter of finding out the way there. |
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12:55 AM Jul 11