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Post by Eʟʏsɪᴜᴍ Pʀᴏ on Nov 15, 2018 16:18:28 GMT -8
•FALLS COUNT ANYWHERE MATCH•
MARCUS LEVINE vs. RYAN GATES
Deadline: Saturday November 24th, 2018 @ 11:59pm EST
Limits: 1000 Words / 2 Promos Max
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Post by Marcus LeVine on Nov 19, 2018 11:14:10 GMT -8
Marcus LeVine is sat in a full black suit. He remains motionless, his legs crossed underneath him, his arms facing forward with his elbows on his knees and the palms facing up. He's meditating, sat in the silence, and surrounded only by the lights of candles. The camera is facing his back, and the sight before him is ghastly. Two people, beaten and bloodied, hung by chains on either side of a painting of firey hellscape. As he raises his head the flames around him grow brighter, and the camera revolves around him to show his face.
The area around his eyes are painted black, and black veins run from the corner of them. As he opens his eyes the same blackness is revealed, only now with a small circle of a blood red iris. He begins to laugh, his eyes beaming with a sick pleasure as out of the corner of his mouth a small red line of blood runs down. He licks the blood away and hums lightly before he begins to speak.
"In a kingdom of the blind, a one-eyed man is king. You, Ryan Gates, Enigma Protocol, have been blinded by success. A spotlight well earned by two violent and amazing wrestlers. However, once you reach the summit of the mountain, the sun shines that much brighter. And thus, you have been blinded.
Ryan, when you walk into the ring with me, I can feel the burning ends of passion. I can feel the heat of the spotlight. I am used to much brighter lights, much hotter flames. I have seen what you can do in the ring Ryan, and I know of your abilities. You have everything it would take to become a true Olympian of this business. You only lack the one thing that truly leads men to glory.
You lack only experience."
Marcus closes his eyes, and the black veins creep away. Once his eyes have opened again, they're back to normal. He stands, and the camera follows him. This altar of his is small, but it holds plenty of small statues, plants, and symbols. It also holds one large chair which sits in the corner, facing the centre of the room. This is where Marcus now moves. The moment he sits it's as if the sheer force of his will washes away all the candlelight, and sees the room cast into darkness.
Lights come on, regular lights. One bright light off screen giving the room enough illumination to see the visage of LeVine. The camera faces his chair, but the angle of the camera is parallel to the wall, and as such Marcus's gaze never enters the camera.
"I plan for nothing less than victory. I seek to have my hand raised, I seek to cast this world of shadows into the light and it begins with you Ryan.
You see, I was watching Erik Holland speak. I heard what Erik said and I head that he was worried about you Ryan. He was worried that you'd stick your nose in his business, that you'd interfere with his match against Miguel. No matter how much I despise Erik Holland I want to extend this promise to him. I want to do Erik a favour of sorts. You see Erik, you won't have to worry about Ryan Gates getting in the middle of your match with Ryan. Ryan, you won't have the opportunity to get involved with that match because I am going to personally make sure that you don't have an arm to strike with, that you won't have a leg to stand on, that you won't have a tooth to bite with, and most importantly you won't have a shred of fight left in you.
I don't want you to think I underestimate you, Ryan. I don't. It's much more simple than that, unfortunately. You see, I just don't fear you, and I definitely don't fear the girl that comes to ringside with you.
You see, I'm nothing like the people you've stepped in the ring with before. That violence that you're so fond of, I love it. I love the violence, Gates.
I feed upon victimising people. You will be my newest victim. I don't want to bury you or lock you in that casket. That casket is for broken men, broken toys. I don't need to fix you, Ryan. You're a brilliant performer with greatness etched into the stone of your future. The future isn't now, however. While I can see your potential, I can see your greatness, I don't see your victory."
Marcus rises from his chair and steps off camera. The camera no longer follows, instead, it stays motionless as a sound can be heard. Two blood-curdling screams.
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Post by Ryan Gates on Nov 24, 2018 20:56:56 GMT -8
The wind howls through an open window as a flash of lightning illuminates the abandoned room. The flash is followed by a booming crack of thunder. Heavy footsteps make their way into the room as a large gust of wind forces the shutters of the window to slam violently shut. Then just as quickly as the wind comes, it’s gone just as quickly. A dim light illuminates a small corner of the room. A figure is shown sitting with its back against the wall. A flash of lightning once again illuminates the room revealing the figure to be Ryan Gates. The dim light doesn’t show much but it shows enough to see Ryan stand up and make his way to another wall.
Just then, a brighter light fills the room up with light. It reveals a tiny table with one chair in the far corner. Ryan sits down and simply stares into the camera.
“I don’t seem to understand what the deal is with these guys who think they are all ‘dark’ and shit.” Ryan says as he places his palm on his forehead. He removes his palm and places it back on the table.
“Marcus, the question that comes to my mind upon seeing you is, what the fuck are you smoking?”
“Because it seems to me that you are fucking delusional. To think that you’re a demon or a hellspawn is merely a figment of your imagination. You talk about how I’m blinded by the success of the Enigma Protocol. What I see is the fact that no tag team in the company can fucking touch us. So my vision is crystal fucking clear.”
Ryan takes a breath and runs a hand through his hair.
“So let’s swing that judgement pendulum the other way now. Marcus, you are blinded by your experience. You are a veteran of the sport and clearly that bodes in your favor. Yet, you are simply being an arrogant prick. Because of your wars with Erik Holland you have this sense that you’re entitled to be the aggressor when it’s clear that you’re in over your head. Ask your rival about what happens when you step into the crosshairs of the Enigma Protocol. Because it was because of us that his relationship with that bitch, Tiami failed horribly. It was because of us that the ‘Badd Breed’ is no more and his buddy K-Remix hasn’t shown his face around here since.”
A beat.
“Now I know that everyone looks at Miguel with his raw power and animalistic instinct. I am the exact opposite of Miguel. I am cerebral and I calculate every move I make. So bring everything you’ve got, motherfucker. You’re delusions of being the spawn of Satan or even being Satan himself. Because Satan doesn’t have a fucking thing on the REALITY that is the Enigma Protocol.”
Ryan gets up and the light that once illuminated the room has now been snuffed out.
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