Post by Jason Phoenix on Apr 2, 2011 22:24:16 GMT -5
We find Jason Phoenix in a familiar place, his apartment, the fire blazing in the hearth. But tonight, Phoenix doesn’t face the flame which he has grown to love, but instead his back is toward the fire. He sits facing the wall, watching the shadows of the embers popping through the air. He raises his right arm into the air, and watches as his silhouette follows his motion. He sticks it straight up into the sky.
[/b]
I remember when my arm was raised in victory after every match. I remember what it felt like to win. I remember when I was on the top, given a shot to be king. But now, now I just lay there dying. I lie rotting on the cold mat as victor after victor is crowned above me. It has been so long since last my name was announced in triumph. Either I have gotten weaker, or the competition has become stronger. Either way, I am slightly confused. Why me? Why put me in the main event if I am just destined to lose? What is the purpose? Is it for the sick thrill of King Sterling and Noble? A game they love to watch me play; the fool against the champion. It’s just like in the ancient Roman Coliseum; the King would send in his weakest slaves to fight his all-star gladiators to please the public. Send out his poor berated servants to fight his lions, and the hungriest would always win.
Phoenix stares as the flames sway behind his dark silhouette. He rises and slowly begins to pace back and forth, his eyes not leaving the wall of dancing shadows.
Johnny Noble. I have nothing against this man, other than the fact that he is kin of the King. I’ve never fought the man, and the only match I’ve had with him, he sat on the sidelines and watched. This match won’t mean much to either of us. It’ll all be a big rouse to make him look good. But, I won’t let that happen. I can’t keep losing. How long will it take me to make it to the top? I have fought and fought and won many matches, but apparently that hasn’t meant a thing. So now, all Pride is to me is a paycheck; something to carry me over. I’d leave if I could, but I have nowhere else to go. No family, no friends, nothing.
Phoenix stops and stares at his silhouette, unmoving.
Every single person here hates me; the Kings, and all of their subjects. No one wants me to succeed, so I have to show them what I’ve got. I have to regain myself and become stronger and start to win matches again; otherwise, there is really no point in me being here.
For the first time, Phoenix turns to face his fiery creation.
And I will do it with your help my friend. As you become stronger, so do I. I just need to feed you more. I have discovered that you have a taste for a fine cuisine. You enjoy the flavor of edifice. But I have big plans for you my friend. As for now, I need to concentrate on my next battle. I need to get this Noble character out of my way so I can focus on our future together. But tonight, I have to prepare for war.
Phoenix slides his fingers on the inside of the fireplace mantle, collecting soot on his finger. With his ash-covered fingers, he draws a dark line under each eye.
I will beat Noble and get on my way to bigger and better things. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
[/b]
I remember when my arm was raised in victory after every match. I remember what it felt like to win. I remember when I was on the top, given a shot to be king. But now, now I just lay there dying. I lie rotting on the cold mat as victor after victor is crowned above me. It has been so long since last my name was announced in triumph. Either I have gotten weaker, or the competition has become stronger. Either way, I am slightly confused. Why me? Why put me in the main event if I am just destined to lose? What is the purpose? Is it for the sick thrill of King Sterling and Noble? A game they love to watch me play; the fool against the champion. It’s just like in the ancient Roman Coliseum; the King would send in his weakest slaves to fight his all-star gladiators to please the public. Send out his poor berated servants to fight his lions, and the hungriest would always win.
Phoenix stares as the flames sway behind his dark silhouette. He rises and slowly begins to pace back and forth, his eyes not leaving the wall of dancing shadows.
Johnny Noble. I have nothing against this man, other than the fact that he is kin of the King. I’ve never fought the man, and the only match I’ve had with him, he sat on the sidelines and watched. This match won’t mean much to either of us. It’ll all be a big rouse to make him look good. But, I won’t let that happen. I can’t keep losing. How long will it take me to make it to the top? I have fought and fought and won many matches, but apparently that hasn’t meant a thing. So now, all Pride is to me is a paycheck; something to carry me over. I’d leave if I could, but I have nowhere else to go. No family, no friends, nothing.
Phoenix stops and stares at his silhouette, unmoving.
Every single person here hates me; the Kings, and all of their subjects. No one wants me to succeed, so I have to show them what I’ve got. I have to regain myself and become stronger and start to win matches again; otherwise, there is really no point in me being here.
For the first time, Phoenix turns to face his fiery creation.
And I will do it with your help my friend. As you become stronger, so do I. I just need to feed you more. I have discovered that you have a taste for a fine cuisine. You enjoy the flavor of edifice. But I have big plans for you my friend. As for now, I need to concentrate on my next battle. I need to get this Noble character out of my way so I can focus on our future together. But tonight, I have to prepare for war.
Phoenix slides his fingers on the inside of the fireplace mantle, collecting soot on his finger. With his ash-covered fingers, he draws a dark line under each eye.
I will beat Noble and get on my way to bigger and better things. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.