The Master's Arrival
Mar 8, 2018 18:53:36 GMT -8
Sam "The Titaness" Hamilton and Azurine Vebbins like this
Post by Issac Combes on Mar 8, 2018 18:53:36 GMT -8
As the plane touches down into the terminal, the passengers are instructed to gather their belongings before leaving. Many people are here on vacation or to visit relatives who escaped colder climates for the Arizona sun. One such man steps off the plane with different intentions.
Reaching into a pant pocket, he produces a flyer, chuckling softly as he studies the headliners featured on it. He'd get to know them all soon enough, as would they with him. He looked about the terminal now, a escort was supposed to greet him here but so far he hadn't seen anyone. Finally he spotted his point of contact in the form of a chauffeur dressed man lazily holding a sign with his name.
Already this would not do, returning the pamphlet to his pocket he strode up to the man whose eyes widened as he approached.
"I believe you are waiting for me, little man." Issac spoke taking a deep tone that could border on intimidation. "If you are, I suggest you wake up and hold my name high properly."
Realizing what he had meant the man quickly grasped the sign with both hands as opposed to the listing hold he had earlier with only one. Still shocked he gulped and waited.
"Better, now lets get going." Issac stated following the man to the vehicle, a rented limo of sorts, placing his luggage in the trunk before squeezing into the back seats. It wasn't uncomfortable, but they definitely did not make such rentals to accommodate people of his size.
A short ride later found Issac arriving at the Talking Stick Resort Arena. A silly name, most definitely, but that was a minor acknowledgment. Gathering his things, he proceeded inside, wanting to get an advanced peek of the arena. He got looks from everyone he passed. Even the security didn't seem to know what to make of Issac. He was used to the looks and reveled in them, using the age old tactic of walking around as if you belonged there to make others believe you did.
It worked for a while, at least, until someone finally decided to approach and ask what he was doing here.
"Just taking in the sights. After all, a person should get to know what they're getting into before deciding on a course of action."
The man looked perplexed and was about to ask more questions before Issac cut him off.
"You don't seem to know who I am, and I'll forgive you this once. Burn my name into that tiny little mind of yours, for next time I won't be as lenient." Reaching into his breast pocket, Issac produced a silver cigar case, retrieving one of the stogies and lighting it despite the signs indicating not to.
A few puffs and a plume of smoke assaulted the smaller man's face.
"The name's Issac Combes, but you can just call me The Master. And I'm here to take charge of these here fields you think you've been tending."
He took a few more puffs of the cigar before continuing, "You call your brand Elysium; a name reserved for the home of great warriors and heroes. Well, we'll just see about whether they live up to the hype or not and become worthy of that distinction. Or if they need my guiding touch to truly make them shine. We'll see what happens when they enter the ring with The Master."
The man continued to look dumbfounded, not sure how to take Issac's bravado, or his lack of care for the no smoking rules. "W-Well, nothing starts until this weekend, so ... if you wouldn't mind, we still have a lot of set-up to get through."
Issac's brow furrowed as he looked down at the man, seeming larger now if that were possible. "Are you trying to tell me to leave? Do you think you have any jurisdiction over me? Hmmm?" Taking the still lit cigar, he dropped it to the ground before crushing it under his heel and placed a hand atop the man's head. The palm perfectly sat square in the center as his fingers wrapped around his skull.
"I should crush you like the bug you are. Buzzing around in my face, thinking you can tell me what's what. Lucky for you though, I've got something I'm more focused on. So you can look back when you go home today about how close you came to not being able to go back anymore. And when you do, you will thank God that I am merciful. You will also remember that I am The Master, and you do not order me around."
A crowd had gathered around the two. Some of them looking on shocked, while others seemed ready to pull out their phones and call for help.
Standing back to his full height, Issac looked around before breaking out in a laugh. In his mind, this was good enough for now. The next time he came, it would be for a match, and he'd get to see those shocked faces again when they saw what he could really do.
Grabbing his luggage, Issac proceeded back out the way he came, hailing a cab and getting a hotel room nearby.
Reaching into a pant pocket, he produces a flyer, chuckling softly as he studies the headliners featured on it. He'd get to know them all soon enough, as would they with him. He looked about the terminal now, a escort was supposed to greet him here but so far he hadn't seen anyone. Finally he spotted his point of contact in the form of a chauffeur dressed man lazily holding a sign with his name.
Already this would not do, returning the pamphlet to his pocket he strode up to the man whose eyes widened as he approached.
"I believe you are waiting for me, little man." Issac spoke taking a deep tone that could border on intimidation. "If you are, I suggest you wake up and hold my name high properly."
Realizing what he had meant the man quickly grasped the sign with both hands as opposed to the listing hold he had earlier with only one. Still shocked he gulped and waited.
"Better, now lets get going." Issac stated following the man to the vehicle, a rented limo of sorts, placing his luggage in the trunk before squeezing into the back seats. It wasn't uncomfortable, but they definitely did not make such rentals to accommodate people of his size.
A short ride later found Issac arriving at the Talking Stick Resort Arena. A silly name, most definitely, but that was a minor acknowledgment. Gathering his things, he proceeded inside, wanting to get an advanced peek of the arena. He got looks from everyone he passed. Even the security didn't seem to know what to make of Issac. He was used to the looks and reveled in them, using the age old tactic of walking around as if you belonged there to make others believe you did.
It worked for a while, at least, until someone finally decided to approach and ask what he was doing here.
"Just taking in the sights. After all, a person should get to know what they're getting into before deciding on a course of action."
The man looked perplexed and was about to ask more questions before Issac cut him off.
"You don't seem to know who I am, and I'll forgive you this once. Burn my name into that tiny little mind of yours, for next time I won't be as lenient." Reaching into his breast pocket, Issac produced a silver cigar case, retrieving one of the stogies and lighting it despite the signs indicating not to.
A few puffs and a plume of smoke assaulted the smaller man's face.
"The name's Issac Combes, but you can just call me The Master. And I'm here to take charge of these here fields you think you've been tending."
He took a few more puffs of the cigar before continuing, "You call your brand Elysium; a name reserved for the home of great warriors and heroes. Well, we'll just see about whether they live up to the hype or not and become worthy of that distinction. Or if they need my guiding touch to truly make them shine. We'll see what happens when they enter the ring with The Master."
The man continued to look dumbfounded, not sure how to take Issac's bravado, or his lack of care for the no smoking rules. "W-Well, nothing starts until this weekend, so ... if you wouldn't mind, we still have a lot of set-up to get through."
Issac's brow furrowed as he looked down at the man, seeming larger now if that were possible. "Are you trying to tell me to leave? Do you think you have any jurisdiction over me? Hmmm?" Taking the still lit cigar, he dropped it to the ground before crushing it under his heel and placed a hand atop the man's head. The palm perfectly sat square in the center as his fingers wrapped around his skull.
"I should crush you like the bug you are. Buzzing around in my face, thinking you can tell me what's what. Lucky for you though, I've got something I'm more focused on. So you can look back when you go home today about how close you came to not being able to go back anymore. And when you do, you will thank God that I am merciful. You will also remember that I am The Master, and you do not order me around."
A crowd had gathered around the two. Some of them looking on shocked, while others seemed ready to pull out their phones and call for help.
Standing back to his full height, Issac looked around before breaking out in a laugh. In his mind, this was good enough for now. The next time he came, it would be for a match, and he'd get to see those shocked faces again when they saw what he could really do.
Grabbing his luggage, Issac proceeded back out the way he came, hailing a cab and getting a hotel room nearby.
