Post by sakukoivu on Aug 19, 2005 16:55:15 GMT -5
Fade open. We find ourselves in a long, arrow hallway. At both ends of the hallway is a thick, heavy oak door. The red carpeted floor of the hallway blends nicely with the wooden walls. The walls themselves being littered with pictures, trophies in cases, and title belts. No windows are present in the room, as it is solely lit by three lights attached to the ceiling, pouring light onto the countless pounds of gold beneath it. As we skim the walls we see pictures, some full color, some black and white, yet the theme constantly being the same, men in wrestling gear holding leather and gold straps high above their heads looking both exhausted and overjoyed, ready for more. As we pass by the belts we see memorable names screwed into the nameplate. The large trophies showcase years of success, from the early days of the sport until present day, each name as respected and revered as the last. Suddenly, a loud creaking noise is heard behind us. We spin around to see that one of the oak doors has been opened, and from the rest of the building that is the wrestling hall of fame, Saku walks into the real hall of fame. For a moment he stands, in front of the now closed oak door that is marked “Hall of Fame.” Then, his reverence paid, he enters the hall and looks at the wall. Touching, seeing, understanding, respecting all pieces of wrestling history. He walks down the hall, only looking at the left side. Eventually he arrives at the tail end of the hall, the other oak door, where he spins and begins to make his way back up the hall. He progresses about halfway before he stops, right in front of the “Tribute to World Heavyweight Champions” section.
He pauses for a second, running his fingers through a huge plaque of past world champions. He reaches the end of the plaque where there is a nameless name plate. All it reads is Valor Wrestling Alliance World Heavyweight Champion. A smirk spreads across his face. He looks around to the photos of countless men winning the pinnacle of their company, exhaustedly ready for more, ready to be the best. Some even bleeding, not allowing their crimson masks to ruin their moment of atonement, merely savoring the work it took to win the belt that they now hold in their hands. Each one different in looks, personality, life, but the same in perseverance, dedication and attitude. Saku then begins to walk once more, a little down the line, continuing on in the World Heavyweight Champions tribute section. He arrives at a new set of pictures, this one showcasing past champions defending their prizes all over the world, like the title implies. Pictures of men riding camels, wearing thick fur hats and coats to shelter themselves from the frigid cold outside, men in the Australian outback, watching kangaroos, men at an outside show on the beach, all of the fans in attendance in nothing but bathing suits, merely trying to accommodate the sweltering heat of the Caribbean. Above all of these photos is a picture of a title belt, resting against a flag, showcasing every flag in the world. At this, Saku’s smirk disappears and instead he gazes, unblinkingly at the flag, taunting him, telling him how many countries a world heavyweight champion must be champion of, how many people, how many lives world champions must carry, eagerly wanting the best for every inhabitant of every country they are supreme in. Suddenly, Saku begins to speak, although barely audibly.
Saku: 224 countries, 5.6 billion people. All of them under me all of them supporting my every move, afraid. Afraid to displease their champion afraid a new one might come in and institute a reign of terror. Every morning, every day these people wake dependant upon me, willing to place their lives in my hands, and why? Because I am their champion, because I am the one who can lead them through hard times, lead them to victory and prosperity, lead them out of trouble. That’s how my life should be, That is how I should’ve been treated from day 1. But no. I have constantly been held, constantly watched as inferior after inferior got put ahead of me. But now, now, here, in Valor Wrestling Alliance, now I finally have earned my opportunity to be the best, finally I have gain enough prestige to be given my rightful opportunity at the World Heavyweight Championship. Since the moment my plane landed here for the first time it has been my dream, my passion, my life, and my obsession to win this championship, and now, now there is only one man who stands in my way.
He is not Immune, he is not someone I have history with. He is not Eric Hardcastle, he is not someone who can merely give himself a title shot at anytime. This is not the Sin City Saint, he is not an inferior who got pushed as far as he has solely because he is American. He has earned his spot opposite me. He has fought through hell and high water to be where I am an succeeded. He is much older and has been doing this much longer than I have. I daresay he has had the same dream since he first started. He has not been faced with the obstacle of being put down because you are not native of the country that for some stupid reason controls the industry. He has not trained nearly as hard as I have, he has not shed as much blood, sweat, tears as I have. He has a speech impediment from being hit to much, or at least I should hope. I would hate to see a world heavyweight champion who barely knows how to speak, even if it was how he was raised. The man I speak of is not unbreakable, he is not untouchable, he is human. He has weaknesses and flaws like everyone on this planet and he can make mistakes. He has held titles before, he is no stranger to the word champion. His name is Brandon Bailey.
Brandon Bailey. You will claim that I do not know what I am talking about, you will claim that you have been thrown down, that you have paid as many dues as I have. You will claim I am just a kid, hoping to get lucky against a seasoned veteran, crossing my fingers and praying that you make an obvious mistake, but it would be you who is mistaken. You are Brandon Bailey, you have worked every day of your life to be here, much as I have, and while you may be older, and have more experience, I am younger, more agile, ready for anything. You have worked hard but I have worked harder. You have been thrown down, I have been thrown down farther, you have climbed you way back to the top, I have climbed a mountain to get to the top. Everything you have done in your life I have done, yet it has been twice as hard for me. When I first came here, I barely knew how to speak English, I was fed to veterans and I pulled upsets out of my ass, bosses and co workers alike spitting in my face every day of my life, all telling me I wasn’t going to make it. That I was going to realize it and be stuck, without a job, with nothing, but I kept pressing, I kept working harder and I came back, I showed them, I beat them all and used their bodies to launch myself upwards, although constantly being pulled back down. Not one day of my life did I consider giving up. From the very instant I decided to become a wrestler I did not look back, and there are innumerable times where I felt I would never succeed, that I would be held opening independents in Finland, and that, Brandon Bailey is what puts me ahead of you.
That is what will win me the world heavyweight championship, I have been men twice you size, twice your skill, and now I have been given you to beat to attain my goal? When my very uncle died I promised him that I would win that belt for him, and yet you, Brandon Bailey think that you can just stand up and stop me? You think that the power of one man will stop the power that I have to win the world heavyweight championship? What do you have to offer Brandon, why are you possessed to win this belt, why do you think you are better than all the rest? You have no reason to think that, you have no right to step into the ring with me, you may have beaten two men who will forever stay in the realm of mid carders, and now you think that you can single handedly quell my desire to leave Orlando Florida with that world heavyweight title around my shoulder? It is no longer a question of who is better Brandon, it has now become the issue of who wants it more. Who has worked harder to be here, who will have trouble living if they do not walk out of that arena with fifteen pounds of gold wrapped firmly around their waist? Who Brandon? Is it you? Do you think you deserve the belt, do you think you want it more than I do, have you made promises on the grave of loved ones that you will hold that championship? Have you Brandon? Have you worshipped the belt, have you envisioned the moment you raise it over your head for the first time in your head over and over again until it is so vividly burned into your memory that you cannot sleep at night for the feelings of sacrifice and desire? I have Brandon, every night of my life.
Every night of my life I have dreamed of that belt, dreamed of knowing that I am the champion of the world, knowing how many people depend on me. I have found myself gazing at maps for hours on ends, looking at countries, doing research getting to know the cultures of the world, getting ready for the one day, the one day where everyone will look at my name and be afraid to speak for fear of tarnishing it’s meaning. Brandon Bailey, until you have done that then you will not truly want the title, until you prove to us all that you have the capacity to hold that belt you are not World Champion material. I know no one has more of an obsession with the very title we are competing for than me, I know I want it more, I know I deserve it more, I know I will be a better champion, and to sit here, thinking of everything that might go wrong when we meet, face to face, it rips me up inside and makes me want to vomit. The very thought of having my dreams ripped away from me by the possibility of interference from Immune or anyone else makes me want to die. Brandon Bailey for months, no, years I have been fixated on this one moment of my life, and you should feel honored that you were the one who was there to hand me my ticket into the history books and into immortality. Brandon Bailey, with the World Heavyweight Championship on the line, I will not lose, no matter what you bring to the table. I know that you are very talented, I know that you are a very capable man, but I repeat, with my destiny on the line, I will not lose, at Sizzler, I will not lose.
Saku takes a deep breath. He walks back to the plaque and runs his fingers through the names one last time, before his fingers come to a rest over the vacant VWA spot. For a moment he stands, breathing deep, his eyes closed, once more envisioning the moment that he made his way into the history books. After a moment he exhales one last time and removes his hand, just staring at the plaque for several seconds before moving on. Not looking at anything on the storied walls of the Wrestling Hall of Fame, not daring taking his concentration off of that empty spot on the plaque. He opens the heavy oak door at the end of the hall and takes one last deep breath before closing the door behind him. Fade to black.
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Possibly my best ever, please reply if you read.
He pauses for a second, running his fingers through a huge plaque of past world champions. He reaches the end of the plaque where there is a nameless name plate. All it reads is Valor Wrestling Alliance World Heavyweight Champion. A smirk spreads across his face. He looks around to the photos of countless men winning the pinnacle of their company, exhaustedly ready for more, ready to be the best. Some even bleeding, not allowing their crimson masks to ruin their moment of atonement, merely savoring the work it took to win the belt that they now hold in their hands. Each one different in looks, personality, life, but the same in perseverance, dedication and attitude. Saku then begins to walk once more, a little down the line, continuing on in the World Heavyweight Champions tribute section. He arrives at a new set of pictures, this one showcasing past champions defending their prizes all over the world, like the title implies. Pictures of men riding camels, wearing thick fur hats and coats to shelter themselves from the frigid cold outside, men in the Australian outback, watching kangaroos, men at an outside show on the beach, all of the fans in attendance in nothing but bathing suits, merely trying to accommodate the sweltering heat of the Caribbean. Above all of these photos is a picture of a title belt, resting against a flag, showcasing every flag in the world. At this, Saku’s smirk disappears and instead he gazes, unblinkingly at the flag, taunting him, telling him how many countries a world heavyweight champion must be champion of, how many people, how many lives world champions must carry, eagerly wanting the best for every inhabitant of every country they are supreme in. Suddenly, Saku begins to speak, although barely audibly.
Saku: 224 countries, 5.6 billion people. All of them under me all of them supporting my every move, afraid. Afraid to displease their champion afraid a new one might come in and institute a reign of terror. Every morning, every day these people wake dependant upon me, willing to place their lives in my hands, and why? Because I am their champion, because I am the one who can lead them through hard times, lead them to victory and prosperity, lead them out of trouble. That’s how my life should be, That is how I should’ve been treated from day 1. But no. I have constantly been held, constantly watched as inferior after inferior got put ahead of me. But now, now, here, in Valor Wrestling Alliance, now I finally have earned my opportunity to be the best, finally I have gain enough prestige to be given my rightful opportunity at the World Heavyweight Championship. Since the moment my plane landed here for the first time it has been my dream, my passion, my life, and my obsession to win this championship, and now, now there is only one man who stands in my way.
He is not Immune, he is not someone I have history with. He is not Eric Hardcastle, he is not someone who can merely give himself a title shot at anytime. This is not the Sin City Saint, he is not an inferior who got pushed as far as he has solely because he is American. He has earned his spot opposite me. He has fought through hell and high water to be where I am an succeeded. He is much older and has been doing this much longer than I have. I daresay he has had the same dream since he first started. He has not been faced with the obstacle of being put down because you are not native of the country that for some stupid reason controls the industry. He has not trained nearly as hard as I have, he has not shed as much blood, sweat, tears as I have. He has a speech impediment from being hit to much, or at least I should hope. I would hate to see a world heavyweight champion who barely knows how to speak, even if it was how he was raised. The man I speak of is not unbreakable, he is not untouchable, he is human. He has weaknesses and flaws like everyone on this planet and he can make mistakes. He has held titles before, he is no stranger to the word champion. His name is Brandon Bailey.
Brandon Bailey. You will claim that I do not know what I am talking about, you will claim that you have been thrown down, that you have paid as many dues as I have. You will claim I am just a kid, hoping to get lucky against a seasoned veteran, crossing my fingers and praying that you make an obvious mistake, but it would be you who is mistaken. You are Brandon Bailey, you have worked every day of your life to be here, much as I have, and while you may be older, and have more experience, I am younger, more agile, ready for anything. You have worked hard but I have worked harder. You have been thrown down, I have been thrown down farther, you have climbed you way back to the top, I have climbed a mountain to get to the top. Everything you have done in your life I have done, yet it has been twice as hard for me. When I first came here, I barely knew how to speak English, I was fed to veterans and I pulled upsets out of my ass, bosses and co workers alike spitting in my face every day of my life, all telling me I wasn’t going to make it. That I was going to realize it and be stuck, without a job, with nothing, but I kept pressing, I kept working harder and I came back, I showed them, I beat them all and used their bodies to launch myself upwards, although constantly being pulled back down. Not one day of my life did I consider giving up. From the very instant I decided to become a wrestler I did not look back, and there are innumerable times where I felt I would never succeed, that I would be held opening independents in Finland, and that, Brandon Bailey is what puts me ahead of you.
That is what will win me the world heavyweight championship, I have been men twice you size, twice your skill, and now I have been given you to beat to attain my goal? When my very uncle died I promised him that I would win that belt for him, and yet you, Brandon Bailey think that you can just stand up and stop me? You think that the power of one man will stop the power that I have to win the world heavyweight championship? What do you have to offer Brandon, why are you possessed to win this belt, why do you think you are better than all the rest? You have no reason to think that, you have no right to step into the ring with me, you may have beaten two men who will forever stay in the realm of mid carders, and now you think that you can single handedly quell my desire to leave Orlando Florida with that world heavyweight title around my shoulder? It is no longer a question of who is better Brandon, it has now become the issue of who wants it more. Who has worked harder to be here, who will have trouble living if they do not walk out of that arena with fifteen pounds of gold wrapped firmly around their waist? Who Brandon? Is it you? Do you think you deserve the belt, do you think you want it more than I do, have you made promises on the grave of loved ones that you will hold that championship? Have you Brandon? Have you worshipped the belt, have you envisioned the moment you raise it over your head for the first time in your head over and over again until it is so vividly burned into your memory that you cannot sleep at night for the feelings of sacrifice and desire? I have Brandon, every night of my life.
Every night of my life I have dreamed of that belt, dreamed of knowing that I am the champion of the world, knowing how many people depend on me. I have found myself gazing at maps for hours on ends, looking at countries, doing research getting to know the cultures of the world, getting ready for the one day, the one day where everyone will look at my name and be afraid to speak for fear of tarnishing it’s meaning. Brandon Bailey, until you have done that then you will not truly want the title, until you prove to us all that you have the capacity to hold that belt you are not World Champion material. I know no one has more of an obsession with the very title we are competing for than me, I know I want it more, I know I deserve it more, I know I will be a better champion, and to sit here, thinking of everything that might go wrong when we meet, face to face, it rips me up inside and makes me want to vomit. The very thought of having my dreams ripped away from me by the possibility of interference from Immune or anyone else makes me want to die. Brandon Bailey for months, no, years I have been fixated on this one moment of my life, and you should feel honored that you were the one who was there to hand me my ticket into the history books and into immortality. Brandon Bailey, with the World Heavyweight Championship on the line, I will not lose, no matter what you bring to the table. I know that you are very talented, I know that you are a very capable man, but I repeat, with my destiny on the line, I will not lose, at Sizzler, I will not lose.
Saku takes a deep breath. He walks back to the plaque and runs his fingers through the names one last time, before his fingers come to a rest over the vacant VWA spot. For a moment he stands, breathing deep, his eyes closed, once more envisioning the moment that he made his way into the history books. After a moment he exhales one last time and removes his hand, just staring at the plaque for several seconds before moving on. Not looking at anything on the storied walls of the Wrestling Hall of Fame, not daring taking his concentration off of that empty spot on the plaque. He opens the heavy oak door at the end of the hall and takes one last deep breath before closing the door behind him. Fade to black.
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Possibly my best ever, please reply if you read.
But if you think I'm going to let you get away with a last second rp...you're sorely mistaken. Catch me if you can! 
