Setting the wheels into motion
Jan 21, 2018 7:29:23 GMT
CEO Vincent Pryde, bonnieblue, and 1 more like this
Post by Corey Bull on Jan 21, 2018 7:29:23 GMT
"Pursue one great decisive aim with force and determination."
— Carl von Clausewitz
OFF CAMERA
Bull's Home, days before Bloody Monday
— Carl von Clausewitz
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Bull's Home, days before Bloody Monday
The room is beyond elegant. It isn't the first thing you would think to find in the home of the man that is a monster, but his taste is far stretching. The room isn't done in what you would call your "modern" tastes, but done in wood, in stone, and in animal. Heads hang on the walls, the tables and chairs look to be carved out of a tree itself. The fireplace looks as if it was built stone by stone. The lights in this room, provided by an antler chandelier, are dim. Benedict Dunlap, Steve Serafino, Roberto Montoya, and Emma Frost all sit around the table. Raven Darkhawk leans next to the bar and Abagail Vorhees sits off to the side of the table. Bull walks in and people start to stand, but he nods them to sit and walks to the bar, grabbing a bottle of Southern Comfort. The mask contorts for him to take a swig, then he puts the bottle down.
Corey: Things are going as planned. Two checks in the L column and now we have been set into a match we wanted to be in. Just as you predicted Abagail.
Abagail smiles a smile that melts hearts.
Abagail: I told you. It was all in the vision. You have to fail to succeed. Now you can unleash yourself.
Raven smirks as she sits down.
Raven: That's great, but why are we meeting here instead of at the corporate office or a seedy hotel?
Bull moves to the huge chair and sits down.
Bull: Its time to start playing the game. This place is filled with the fingerprints of the God-machine. We just don't know how many people know it. So lets start with the basics and go to the originals. Every NBW champion and both the Commish and Pryde. We don't care what rocks we have to turn the fuck over...lets get it done. But NO KILLING Raven.
Raven: Well shit, you take all the fun out of it.
Roberto: I'll take the Snake Pit then. I recognize them.
Bull: Good, Raven you have Cassidy and Vandalia, and Kid Dekay. And we repeat...no killing for information.
Raven: Yeah yeah yeah.
Bull: Steve, you got the Humit Vomit guy, Ralph Grosse. We can't imagine that is even close to his real name, so your gonna have to hack shit. Means we want you digging in on Pryde and the Commish as well.
Steve: Well at least I have the computers to match all this work AND still do my job.
Bull: Stop being sarcastic you ass. This is important. Benedict, use every legal angle you can to obtain information under the radar. We got the cash, use it.
Benedict: Of course. I know a few guys over at the big timers offices that owe me some favors. And I know a woman down in the clerks office that can help me out.
Bull nods, then sits down.
Abagail: And what about me Bull?
Bull: We are not sure yet. We called Uncle Vladamir in Russia and we called Akuma in Canada. Their contacts are now our contacts.
Raven: You called out to Uncle Vlad!
Bull looks at Raven and nods. Vladamir was another fallen angel that had gotten himself into the Russian Mafia right away. Akuma was another Angel that ended up in the Canadian parliment. Bull turns his head back to Abagail.
Bull: When Raven has done her digging here, you and her pay a visit to Vlad. He wants you to stop for a job anyways Raven, something that has to be very discreet and fatal and you know he wants the best.
Raven nods, then turns to Abagail.
Raven: Call me in two days, we can catch a flight out on my private Leer.
Abagail nods and Raven leaves. Bull stands and places his hands on the table.
Bull: The wheels are in motion. We want you to keep an eye out on Pryde. Something smells wrong. If it walks like a duck and talks like a duck, it ain't no fucking goose. He has his hands into something, whether its the God-machine or not remains to be seen. In any event, we want to make sure we have every round in the gun loaded when we start to fire. Now, get to work. Report back here on Tuesday.
The group leaves, but Abagail lingers.
Abagail: Bull, tell me, whats the angle here?
Bull stands and sighs.
Bull: We can't get over that this NBW feels too much like uXw did, and we all know what happened there. If we can prevent the good ones from going down, while eliminating the ones that are either feeding the God-machine willingly or are just caught up in the wrong thing....then we have succeeded with one of the many plans in motion.
Abagail nods. uXw had become a war zone and more then one person was found in an alley dead because of affiliations with the wrong group. It went beyond wrestling at that point. And Dead Cell had a hand in some of those bodies as well.
Bull: We might need your brand of honey. Shut down the bum fights and eliminate the women's division so they are all in the same basket. Too much separation. We want everyone on an even keel here. Pryde can be gotten to, but we want to be sure we are in the right position before that happens.
Abagail nods. She walks over and presses her supple form against Bull.
Abagail: Do you want to know what I saw about you and the title?
Bull shakes his head.
Bull: No, we want to walk into this one without prior knowledge. That way we are concentrated and on our game. Now you got some work to do and we got a match to prep for.
Abagail pouts, then smiles and leaves as Bull sits down.
ON CAMERA
**The room empty, Bull sits at the head of a huge table made of oak.**
"“Heavy Metal” Matsutarou. Do you like to tell slasher stories? Hmm, we would have to say no, since it seems your mouthpiece does all of the talking. Though, in all honesty, you do back it up in the ring. Slasher stories are brutal. The tiles slick with blood....hallways echoing with screams. A victim...still alive, madly and mercifully and miraculously still alive....dragging his beaten and bloody corpse down the hallway, trying so hard to reach that phone for help. And then....a shadow passes over the mans face and he looks up into the eyes of what must be a demon...right before the nightmare becomes reality and a knife ends his troubles."
"Now, the telling of such a story can be just as brutal. Whether you tell it from the perspective of the victims...men and women who have no idea what is coming, can feel the hairs on the back of their neck at every turn rising. Or the perspective of the police, their actions to try and put a stop to the murderers gory reign or terror. Or...from the point of view of the slasher themselves...men and women driven to kill....possessed of the spirit of murder it would seem, as if it is alive."
**Their appears a glimmer in the eyes of Bull...of memories past perhaps?**
"It's not comfortable for most people, no matter how it is told. After all, we are not talking about mythical movie monsters. We are talking regular ol humans...serial murderers, spree killers, and slashers. When stories like this are told, they are meant to invoke within the listeners a very primal fear....the fear of death by one of their own. By a predator not living amongst the beasts.....but living next door...down the street, across the hall from your aunt. Murder....madness....and morality, all taglend up in a grisly telling of murder and mayhem."
"Now you ask....what does any of this have to do with us."
**Bull's mask grins and now the eyes shift to something malevolent**
"Because Matsutarou.....this IS us. This IS our match at Bloody Monday. When we stand in that ring....when we look across the ring at each other....this isn't for some win. No...so much more is at stake...especially for you. Especially when some...now how did that fat little ball tell it....oh that's right...backyard wrestler beats you for your spot. Backyard wrestler...that's funny come from him. Its as if it almost hurt our feelings...and then it passed like a fart in the wind. Because it is thoughts like that.....that leave people exposed. Now we know somewhere is fat little hands are sweating and wrenching as he prepares to point out we have lost our only two matches here. And we will point out that not only do we know this...but one was calculated like that. Now which one...well that is for you to decide but the facts remain....we are constant. WE are like D.E.A.T.H. and taxes...guaranteed to fuck with you every time."
**Bull stands and slowly walks around the table, running the tips of one hand along its finish**
"We agree with the little slime ball...you are a pure wrestler. Your technique...style....skill....its breathtakingly beautiful in action. Who doesn't love watching a man get dismantled piece by piece by an architect of the ring. But now you are facing an architect against a person that designed destruction. And while it is cliche and a song lyric, we DID write the book on pain. Technique....style...skill...something we both have loads of. Each similar...but different. Same purpose...different execution. It will be an honor to face you. Lets look at the stakes.....if we win, we are entered into the title match at the pay per view. If you win...you get to keep your spot. So, if you follow this logic....if we win...you DON'T keep your spot. So now you can understand the motivation we posses. You can understand the desire we have."
**Bulls face leans into the camera....his deep voice coming from the same place that nightmares are born and his eyes leading us to that place**
"We can taste your blood on our lips....we can feel your bones shatter under our heavy blows....feel the muscles and tendons rip from your very skeletal frame as we beat you from post to post. This won't be just some large brute trying to beat you....this will be a cold, calculating monster with a plan to tear you down....to methodically eliminate your weapons....and to ultimately destroy you in that ring."
**Bulls eyes are cauldrons, his voice venomous, his body a pressure cooker of force ready to explode at any moment**
"We have fought all across the world...on battlefields and wrestling rings. This is chess on a grand and violent scale. With one move in motion, we have three more to follow it after knowing what it has caused. It will be an honor to defeat you."
**The mask grins, or so it seems as Bull speaks in Latin**
"Mors auferat, sed cordis pulsatio"
(Death is but a heartbeat away.)
(Death is but a heartbeat away.)
**Bull walks away as the camera slowly fades on the array of animal heads on display, focusing on the bulls head above the chair Bull just sat in.**