Post by Holden Ross on Jan 14, 2019 20:56:46 GMT -5
*Holden's “Skull and axe handle” symbol hangs center of an all black screen in red. After a quarter of a minute, the symbol fades and the scene opens on a mans hand. Stuck to the thumb, index, and middle finger is a glass Coca-Cola bottle. The fingers splay open and then close, clinking the bottles against themselves, in a rythmic cadence; clink….clink….clink. A shot right out of the cult classic, “The Warriors.” As the camera pulls back we see that the hand is Holden's, as he stands, facing the camera, in what appears to be a dimly lit garage. Perhaps on the property of the scrapyard? Tessa's voice completes the scene as she cat calls their enemy.*
Tessa: Tyyyler….come out and plaaayyy… Tyyyeee-Ler….come out and plaaay-e-aaayyy… Tyyee-Lerrr…
*The entire time Holden keeps rhythm with the glas bottles; clink….clink….clink….*
Tessa:…come out and Playyy-ee-aaayyyy! Some call Seromine the Serpent. The Snake. When, in fact, that moniker is more fitting hung around your neck, is it not? You are untrustworthy, as your actions against my beloved in the past can attest and you hide out…much like a reptile.*Clink….clink…..clink…..*The last time you met in the ring with my Holden, it was Rick Majors who saved you then. Obviously, that's not happening this time around. Can you trust your partner, that homeless looking hick, to have your back? After all, why should he? What do you have in common? The both of you don’t like Seromine? That’s half of the free World right there….that isn’t something to unite and bring together the two of you…you’re Worlds apart….
*Holden stops clinking the bottles together and they slip off of his fingertips and explode at his feet. He steps out of the shadows and into a shaft of light through a hole in one of the skylights from a high wattage, incandescent bulb. His chest heaves with each breath and his hair hangs down over his face, which is partially covered by his mask. He reaches up with his left hand, behind his head, and unlaches the mask. It falls to the ground and a sneer curls his lip. Looming in the shadows in the background are two tal, extremely thin men, almost emaciated, clad in onpy a dingy gray pair of cotton pants. Their dreadlocked hair hangs down, nearl to their stomach, almost completely obscuring the muzzle-like apparatus affixed to each mans face, covering their mouths entirely.*
We have arrived to a point in time where myself and the Anarchist Prophet, Seromine, unite once again to take on the unwashed and unworthy. A foreign failure and a broken down ol paint that needs to be put to pasture. We are the ones who you call when you want that ol horse put down. Or to break that foreign turncoat's skull for him. And we will do it with a sneer on our lips and righteous indignation in our eyes and soul. We are Hell's Henchmen and we will leave the ring this week with our arms raised in victory.
Grimm is nothing more than an overinflated myth of some unstoppable, unbreakable construct of redneck madness. But Seromine showed just how flawed, and human, he truly is. And here I am, in the ring against one of the P.C.W. Legends of old as well as an N.L.C.W. washed up has been. A testament to Seromines greatness and of yet another promise fulfilled, behind obtaining the Underground Championship. Together we are unstoppable. Together we are Chaos and War, on a collision course with two nobodies. Prepare for battle, gentlemen, because we were born into war and bred for destruction.
Come, ye Children, listen to Me. I will teach you the Fear of the Lord. Psalm thirty-four, eleven. We shall teach you Fear. And pain. Pain the likes of which you have never experienced. Make peace with your Lord. Say your good-bye’s. At Trauma we are sending you out in bodybags….[/i]
*Tessa's cackle is heard before she is seen and when she strolls into frame she is in a pair of yoga pants and a baggy, black P.C.W. hoodie. She sidles up next to her mman and plants a kiss on his cheek. The scene fades to black as the two stroll off camera, laughing together.*
(Ooc: it is what it is....been busy af the past few weeks at work)
Tessa: Tyyyler….come out and plaaayyy… Tyyyeee-Ler….come out and plaaay-e-aaayyy… Tyyee-Lerrr…
*The entire time Holden keeps rhythm with the glas bottles; clink….clink….clink….*
Tessa:…come out and Playyy-ee-aaayyyy! Some call Seromine the Serpent. The Snake. When, in fact, that moniker is more fitting hung around your neck, is it not? You are untrustworthy, as your actions against my beloved in the past can attest and you hide out…much like a reptile.*Clink….clink…..clink…..*The last time you met in the ring with my Holden, it was Rick Majors who saved you then. Obviously, that's not happening this time around. Can you trust your partner, that homeless looking hick, to have your back? After all, why should he? What do you have in common? The both of you don’t like Seromine? That’s half of the free World right there….that isn’t something to unite and bring together the two of you…you’re Worlds apart….
*Holden stops clinking the bottles together and they slip off of his fingertips and explode at his feet. He steps out of the shadows and into a shaft of light through a hole in one of the skylights from a high wattage, incandescent bulb. His chest heaves with each breath and his hair hangs down over his face, which is partially covered by his mask. He reaches up with his left hand, behind his head, and unlaches the mask. It falls to the ground and a sneer curls his lip. Looming in the shadows in the background are two tal, extremely thin men, almost emaciated, clad in onpy a dingy gray pair of cotton pants. Their dreadlocked hair hangs down, nearl to their stomach, almost completely obscuring the muzzle-like apparatus affixed to each mans face, covering their mouths entirely.*
We have arrived to a point in time where myself and the Anarchist Prophet, Seromine, unite once again to take on the unwashed and unworthy. A foreign failure and a broken down ol paint that needs to be put to pasture. We are the ones who you call when you want that ol horse put down. Or to break that foreign turncoat's skull for him. And we will do it with a sneer on our lips and righteous indignation in our eyes and soul. We are Hell's Henchmen and we will leave the ring this week with our arms raised in victory.
Grimm is nothing more than an overinflated myth of some unstoppable, unbreakable construct of redneck madness. But Seromine showed just how flawed, and human, he truly is. And here I am, in the ring against one of the P.C.W. Legends of old as well as an N.L.C.W. washed up has been. A testament to Seromines greatness and of yet another promise fulfilled, behind obtaining the Underground Championship. Together we are unstoppable. Together we are Chaos and War, on a collision course with two nobodies. Prepare for battle, gentlemen, because we were born into war and bred for destruction.
Come, ye Children, listen to Me. I will teach you the Fear of the Lord. Psalm thirty-four, eleven. We shall teach you Fear. And pain. Pain the likes of which you have never experienced. Make peace with your Lord. Say your good-bye’s. At Trauma we are sending you out in bodybags….[/i]
*Tessa's cackle is heard before she is seen and when she strolls into frame she is in a pair of yoga pants and a baggy, black P.C.W. hoodie. She sidles up next to her mman and plants a kiss on his cheek. The scene fades to black as the two stroll off camera, laughing together.*
(Ooc: it is what it is....been busy af the past few weeks at work)