| Raven RP | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Mar 10 2010, 09:27 PM (50 Views) | |
| The Corporation | Mar 10 2010, 09:27 PM Post #1 |
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The sun was slowly creeping towards the highest point in the sky, shining relentlessly down upon the earth - and, more specifically, upon the outskirts of Boston - when the black car swung around a right turn at high speed and flew south along the new road, blowing up dust and litter that had been left laying on the ground as it went. It roared loudly as it's speed increased dramatically with every second until it was doing at least one hundred miles-per-hour. It narrowly avoided colliding with the other cars parked on either side of the road, and thankfully there were no pedestrians about. The car made light work of the distance and flew up and over a slight dent in the curb and into what was once the lusciously decorated and well-kempt lawn of (check name and enter here) church. The sign that once stood to display the church's name was torn from the ground as the front of the car smashed into it and sent hurtling towards the building. The car's brakes suddenly screeched into life as the driver slammed the pedal right down to the floor. The car skidded along the grass, leaving two long trails behind it, and sending it and masses of dirt in every direction. The car slowed down dramatically but not enough to prevent it crashing hard into the southern wall of the church. The airbag went up instantly. Minutes passed. Many more passed afterwards. And then suddenly a set of hands flew up, forcing the airbag around in all directions. In one of the hands, the handle of a switchblade appears. The owner of the hands compressed the switch, sending the blade right out into the airbag, deflating it instantly, and revealing the driver to be none other than the King of Hardcore, Raven. His face looks exhausted and many cuts and bruises can be seen. He put the switchblade away and gripped the door handle. He tried it but the door remained jammed shut. He tried again and again to no avail, getting angrier and angrier with every attempt until on a last attempt, he kicked it simultaneously, and it flew open, allowing in a gush of fresh air. Raven sucked it into his lungs in deep gasps and flies out onto the grass. He landed as hard as a stone on his front, with no care for the dirt and grass stains smearing against his clothes and skin. He rolled onto his back, still breathing heavily, and there he remains for a good few seconds. His eyes darted in all directions and he was relieved to see no-one around, not that he could see anyway. He knew one thing for sure, however, and that's no matter how much he felt at home in this place and how much he felt destined to be here, he knew this was going to be his last time at this place. Get up, you fool! He thought to himself, but it wasn't his own voice that spoke. It was his voice. The one who had changed everything. Raven rolled onto his side and pushed himself back to his feet with a set of deep groans. Once up, he slowly staggered away from the car and towards the ragged steps that led into the church. He was a bruised and battered mess and could barely keep his balance. The blood on his shirt glistened in the bright, noon sunshine. He staggered up the last of the steps, fighting through the cobwebs which seem to have doubled in quantity since he was last here. His mind was as much a mess as his physical appearance was. 'Focus!' He ordered to himself, as he marched up the stairs, two at a time. His voice was hoarse. 'Focus! Concentrate! Focus!' These had been merely one of the orders Raven had been given, but contradictorily, it was the man who had given them that had, as of this moment, knocked his focus completely out of existence. He burst through the door at the top of the staircase. Light spilled through the broken window in the attic room, expelling the shadow from where he currently stood. He soon rectified that by marching across it and pulling shut what remained of the tatty and moth-eaten curtains. Pin pricks of light still spilled through various spots, but it was dark enough. He did his best thinking in the dark. 'Focus!' The word echoes off the filthy, dusty walls, even though he had spoken barely above a mutter. He pulled off the blood-stained shirt and went to throw it away but found he couldn't. Not yet. Instead, he held it in his hands and stared down at it. One of three remnants of the week that had been; the worst he'd experience in many years. 'Why did it have to happen now?' He asked himself, as he continued to look at the shirt, turning it over in his hands, covering them also. 'Why did it have to happen, this week of all weeks?' The attic room had a bathroom fixed in beside it, the was were covered with mould, filling it with an overwhelming smell of damp. The floor was no better, covered in dirty puddles, created by years of leaky drips from the ceiling. Raven burst into the room, there was more light in here than the previous room, but it was still dark enough for his liking. He threw the shirt into the wash basin and slapped his hands on it's edge, lowering his head over it. 'Chris Wrestling. La Envidia Mata. Night. Tobias Devereux. The Teacher. DJ....’ He trailed off from the list comprising of just some of the opponents he would face in the World Heavyweight Title Tournament as another name came to mind. A name that had featured prominently in the last week. He looked up directly into the mirror. He could just about see himself through the dust and grime which had come to rest upon. His eyes were the most visible, burning with a whole mass amalgamation of emotions and thoughts. ‘....Roscoe Shame!!’ This was the aforementioned, and was spoken with quite a bit more emphatic venom than all of the previous ones. Even this list didn’t work. As much as he wanted it to, his mind refused, point blank, to think about the World Championship. Even about the King of Hardcore. To return to his desire to destroy all and win it. All thoughts centred in on the events of the last week. The week that had begun directly after the last Showdown. **** Raven marched through one of the many corridors. The show had gone well, he thought. It was the first Showdown of the new era and he wanted to get the message across. The message that no-one was going to pin or make him submit during the Alex Ross Tournament, that he was to be the next SVO World Heavyweight Champion. And he believed he had got that message across well: he had defeated Nathan Paradine. His group had also done quite the impact on their debut. Yes, things hadn't gone exactly how he had planned, the show had gone well enough. And at this week's Showdown, he had no doubt everything would go according to plan, as well. But, as things currently stood, something was wrong. The debilitating cramps, faintness, and urge to be sick hadn't plagued him for a long while now, but they were back, worse than ever and were now joined by a blinding headache that he suspected would become a migraine before too long. 'Agh!' He groaned, clutching his stomach as a fresh wave took hold him his stomach in it's tight grip. Raven recalled the last time this had occurred. People had been dotted about, mocking him, but ready to help when they realized something serious was up. Not this time, however; there was nobody around. He was alone, walking on legs that increasingly felt like jelly with each passing second and when he rounded the next corner, the jelly legs evaporated into nothing, the corridor spun completely out of control, and he collapsed to the floor. The pain of impact soared up through his jaw, catalysing the transition of pain from headache to migraine beneath his skull. He couldn't move, no matter how much he tried and his breathing was shallow, his chest tight. He had no idea how long he laid there, in the middle of the corridor, but it was long enough for him to welcome the darkness with open arms when it finally come forth. After that, Raven recalled, he dreamt and dreamt and dreamt. Some of them were of the Alex Ross Tournament and what he was sure would unfold there and the others....well, he couldn't remember those, especially now, a week later. The other thing he did remember, though, was waking up. This he could remember most of all, as if it was yesterday. **** The light was blinding, shining directly into his eyes as they opened. He threw a hand out to shield them. His head pounding relentlessly, sending pulses of pain through his face, affecting him mostly in the jaw area. 'Where am I?' he groaned, barely able to recognize his own voice. 'It's okay,' a voice responded, a male voice, one Raven recognized even less. 'You're in the hospital.' Momentarily, forgetting - or not caring about - the pain in his head or the light, he lowered his hand and saw a doctor standing over him. He also saw the bright-white walls, which served to accentuate the overhead light. The doctor was dressed, as one would expect, in a long white coat over black pants and a white shirt. Raven judged he was around ten years older than himself, and a few inches shorter. He looked back down at Raven over the top of his glasses, which were perched on the end of his nose. 'You took quite a knock to the head, son.' Raven thought suddenly of his father, whom always referred to him as such. He hated it. He also hadn't needed to be told about his injury, he could feel the lump pulsating just above his right temple, even without using his sense of touch. 'How'd I get here?' Raven muttered, fighting through the pain to pull himself into a seated position. The doctor stepped forward with a hand quickly reaching out ahead of him in order to prevent such actions, but quickly thought better of it following a quick glance from Raven. 'Somebody brought you in off the street. They said you had suffered some kind of fall.' 'Who was it?' Raven asked immediately. 'I have no idea. You were sent up here by the people at reception. My duty is mainly to get you better.' 'Would they know?' The doctor shrugged, and then said: 'Possibly. You can go and check once I'm sure you're well enough.' Raven didn't like the sound of that, something told him that moment would be far too long in coming. And it was. Raven spent twelve hours undergoing tests and question sessions on subjects such as family history, finally opting to get his recent spate of symptoms checked over. This was the last time he ever wanted to suffer such an attack. And at a few minutes passed noon the next day, the doctor returned, clipboard in hand. 'Ahh. You're finally awake.' Raven furrowed his eyebrow, curiously. 'I came by a few hours ago, you were out cold.' 'So, what's the verdict?' Raven asked, eager to get to the point and get out of there. He needed to check who his good Samaritan had been and, more important, start preparing for Showdown. The doctor said nothing for a few moments. He merely flicked studiously through the pages attached to his clipboard, pausing now and then to give out the occasional "hmmm". He finally stopped and glanced over the top of the clipboard, his glasses had once again slipped down to the end of his nose. 'Nothing.' 'What?' The question poured out of Raven's mouth before he could even think. 'All our tests have come back negative. There's nothing wrong with you.' Raven flew straight to his feet, the embarrassing hospital gown flapping around him. 'That's impossible. These pains can't be nothing. I've collapsed twice, for Christ's sake.' 'I'm sorry. But the only diagnosis I could offer is that could be anxiety.' 'Believe me, I'm not anxious....about anything.' And he wasn't. What did he have to be anxious about? In the Sanctioned Violence Organization, he was at the top of his game and as a result, every potential threat had been keeping it's distance from him. Everyone was focusing on each other. A fact that would prove to be each of their downfalls. And in his personal life, the only problem was his rage and the tablets were keeping them under control. 'Then I'm stumped.' The doctor shrugged his shoulders again, in the same way he had many times since Raven had arrived. This is why I don't go to hospitals, Raven thought in a vicious tone of imagined voice, but said, 'Where are my clothes?' The doctor pointed to a locker in the corner of the room. Raven headed straight towards it. 'We can do some further tests. They may turn up something.' 'Forget it,' Raven answered, opening the locker door. 'I'm not wasting any more of my time. I have to prepare for things next week and will just have to hope that this goes away.' The doctor said more but Raven drowned out the majority of it in favour of getting dressed quickly. The only thing Raven need to still know was which way the reception was. Once the doctor had directed him, and he was dressed, Raven marched out. **** The reception consisted of one counter, located just inside the southern entrance. It was currently watched over by a young, attractive brunette. Raven noticed a second chair, where a colleague would usually sit, but was currently vacant. She smiled at Raven as he approached but he never returned it. 'How can I help you?' She said, still smiling. 'I was brought in yesterday, unconscious with a head injury. I just wondered if you knew who it was?' 'I'm afraid no. I wasn't on-duty last night.' Raven was unable to contain his annoyance and turned away with no idea what he could do next. He glanced across the waiting area to the cafe beyond and was immediately drawn to a security camera fixed to the wall. It moved back and forth, covering the entire area. Raven was about to see how much of a chance he had of seeing if anything had been picked up on them when the woman spoke again, breaking through his thoughts. 'You wouldn't happen to be Raven by any chance?' Raven span on his heels instantly, and stared her dead in the eyes. 'Yeah, why?' 'I just remembered, Susan - my colleague - was on duty last night and said she was given something for a Raven if he came down here with questions.' 'Given what?' The receptionist began running her eyes back and forth, scanning the entire length of the desk. Her eyes widened and her hand shot upwards to her left a few moments later. 'Here it is.' She held her hand up to Raven, and he saw that within it was a sealed white envelope. He took it swiftly and tore straight into it. 'Anything nice?' The receptionist asked, but she got no response. Raven unfolded the note contained within, walking away slowly as he did so. His eyes grew wide as he read the words written upon the paper in handwriting that had become all too familiar. No hospital will be able to help you. But I can....with your illnesses and much, much more. And I will, very, very soon. You can thank me when we meet. Your new guardian angel. Raven stood staring at that note for a good few minutes, reading it over many times. And thus, the events had been put in motion. **** Back in the present, a dog barked in the distance, bringing Raven back from his thoughts and memories. He unconsciously went to the tap in order to splash his face. Only when nothing happened after four turns did Raven fully remember his surroundings and that water had probably not ran through it's pipes in many, many years. He tried once more to bring his attention back to the Alex Ross Tournament, running through the names, once again. The efforts were in vain. The dog barked again and he really did feel anxious. He needed to clean up and take care of it.....no, not it. Him. Only after that, would he be able to think clearly and make the decision of whether he would attend Showdown, or return to the Sanctioned Violence Organization, altogether. He hoped he would, at least. Things had changed. It was just a matter of how much. |
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12:55 AM Jul 11