Post by Dagvald Riddik on Feb 2, 2020 14:17:36 GMT -5
Location: The Compound
Time: Tuesday, January 28th, 2020, Evening
“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” With those simple words, Dagvald’s return to the world of professional wrestling has begun. “I once had the eyes of a million upon me. They clammered for my every word and paid their slave wages just to see my with their own eyes. The memories have all come back to me, and they have taken control.
“I was a champion! I held the legacy of that company in my hands, and I cemented my own legacy with that title. But then I was robbed of it in an unfair gauntlet match so their hand chosen golden boy could bear the crown. As an inexperienced competitor at the time, it was difficult to defeat two opponents back to back. That was well over a year ago, and I’ve been preparing myself since then.
With my loss, that company also lost. It has crumbled beneath its own weight and dissolved into the abyss. There is no more RSW. Only Dagvald. So, I have signed with a new company in Action Wrestling. I will avenge my reputation and cleanse it of the stain stemming from my only loss. This starts Monday, when I face acclaimed Wine Aunt Patti Rose.”
With a sly smirk, Dagvald feels himself getting worked up for the camera. Just like the good old days. “Maybe I’ve missed this, and what of it? The opportunity to have the world watch as I dissect and deconstruct the corrupt and subjugated lifestyles of my opponents, one by one. Patti Rose, I did not choose you as my first victim; it is your destiny to fall by my iron tongue.
“Ms. Rose, I won’t say anything you’ve heard a million times before. You’re expecting me to call you old, past your prime, or simply, a woman in a man’s world. While all of that may be true, it’s simply below my standards of mental games. Patti, your greatest weakness against me will not be your age or feminine body structure. It will be your translucency. Anyone who can be bothered can learn everything there is to know about you. You build your palace upon the foundation of your biography. If not for your life story, what do you have? You think that your underdog story gives you legitimacy in the eyes of the competitors here. To me, your pathetic pleas for attention are just that.
“What do you know about me, Patti? You know nothing of my past or who I am today. I do not force my personal life into my professional life because they are entirely antithetical. Why do you think superheroes never reveal their true identity? As a professional wrestler, I stand on my merits as a brutal warrior trained in the ways of my ancestors who waged wars over a millenia ago. When I finish you before thousands of spectators, it will be because of my physical prowess and brutality, not because of some feelgood Hallmark channel plotline like those you spend all day watching.
“I don’t care about your comeback story. I don’t care how many years you’ve been wrestling or how many wins or losses you have in your records. I don’t even care that you’re a woman who’s beat a fair digit of men. Where I come from, in my culture, I’ve seen women strong enough not only to whip you around like Jaden Smith’s hair, but also to some of the men on this roster. I’m not a sexist, Patti, I’m a realist. I won’t beat you because you’re a woman, I’ll beat you because you’re not a good enough woman to defeat me.
“I’ve trained against shieldmaidens before, true women warriors who dedicate their lives to mastering the balance between femininity and skill in combat. Do you think I’ve won every single sparring match I’ve participated in? You’d be a fool. I’ve spent decades, just as you have, perfecting the art of Viking. When I was in prison, I never pussied out of a fight when challenged. My victories and my defeats have shaped me, forged me into the warrior you see before you today. But you know nothing of what I am capable of. I could spend the rest of the week watching your back catalogue of matches across the companies you’ve competed in, learning the ins and outs of every trick you’ll try to use against me. You could never learn what I’m capable of until you experience it firsthand.”
Dag balls up his fists, stands up out of his wooden stool and takes a step toward the camera. “You think you’ve been through hardships? Discrimination? You think you’ve had it rough because you’re a woman? You know nothing of true suffering!” His voice raises in anger. He despises the false front put on by this pampered affluent supermodel.
“You’ve never experienced the fire. Not like I have. You know nothing about hardship and loss. You honestly believe that falling from the heights of your career is what it means to come face to face with misfortune. You have no idea, no ability co conceive of the trials I’ve been through, and you think you are hardened by the first world problems you’ve tweeted about on your social media to thousands and thousands of loyal followers. It’s amazing how you’re almost a decade my senior and yet you are so quick to assimilate into this modern culture of self pity and sympathy circle jerking.”
Dagvald grabs the phone he’s recording on with both hands, and brings his face uncomfortably close to the lens. “You are nothing to me, Patti Rose. In the sheer scale of misery I’ve endured, any pain I feel brought upon me by your fists or wrestling techniques will be utterly cathartic. I live for the feeling of brinkmanship. I long for that ever elusive glorious death in battle so I may ascend into Valhalla and progenate my glory unto my spirit descendants. I will not defeat you because I want to. I will beat you solely because you do not deserve the honor of sending me into the eternal battle. You are nothing, you are not uniquely capable, and you will face your mediocrity once again as you endure your second loss in what will surely be your final match in Action Wrestling, if not your wrestling career as a whole.”
Dag abruptly closes out the recording. As he slowly descends from the realm of godlike fury, his senses return to him, and he picks up on the rhythmic scratching on his door. He walks over and opens it, letting Beowulf in his bedroom. His loyal Norwegian Elkhound has been more attached since he disappeared for several days earlier in the month. “I used to have someone just as loving as you, Wulf. Few beings can match the loyalty of a good dog for his master. Isabella was truly special. I wonder if perhaps she will recognize me in the media someday as my fame grows with this company. I can only wish she would welcome me back with loving heart as you did when I was gone before.”
Time: Tuesday, January 28th, 2020, Evening
“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” With those simple words, Dagvald’s return to the world of professional wrestling has begun. “I once had the eyes of a million upon me. They clammered for my every word and paid their slave wages just to see my with their own eyes. The memories have all come back to me, and they have taken control.
“I was a champion! I held the legacy of that company in my hands, and I cemented my own legacy with that title. But then I was robbed of it in an unfair gauntlet match so their hand chosen golden boy could bear the crown. As an inexperienced competitor at the time, it was difficult to defeat two opponents back to back. That was well over a year ago, and I’ve been preparing myself since then.
With my loss, that company also lost. It has crumbled beneath its own weight and dissolved into the abyss. There is no more RSW. Only Dagvald. So, I have signed with a new company in Action Wrestling. I will avenge my reputation and cleanse it of the stain stemming from my only loss. This starts Monday, when I face acclaimed Wine Aunt Patti Rose.”
With a sly smirk, Dagvald feels himself getting worked up for the camera. Just like the good old days. “Maybe I’ve missed this, and what of it? The opportunity to have the world watch as I dissect and deconstruct the corrupt and subjugated lifestyles of my opponents, one by one. Patti Rose, I did not choose you as my first victim; it is your destiny to fall by my iron tongue.
“Ms. Rose, I won’t say anything you’ve heard a million times before. You’re expecting me to call you old, past your prime, or simply, a woman in a man’s world. While all of that may be true, it’s simply below my standards of mental games. Patti, your greatest weakness against me will not be your age or feminine body structure. It will be your translucency. Anyone who can be bothered can learn everything there is to know about you. You build your palace upon the foundation of your biography. If not for your life story, what do you have? You think that your underdog story gives you legitimacy in the eyes of the competitors here. To me, your pathetic pleas for attention are just that.
“What do you know about me, Patti? You know nothing of my past or who I am today. I do not force my personal life into my professional life because they are entirely antithetical. Why do you think superheroes never reveal their true identity? As a professional wrestler, I stand on my merits as a brutal warrior trained in the ways of my ancestors who waged wars over a millenia ago. When I finish you before thousands of spectators, it will be because of my physical prowess and brutality, not because of some feelgood Hallmark channel plotline like those you spend all day watching.
“I don’t care about your comeback story. I don’t care how many years you’ve been wrestling or how many wins or losses you have in your records. I don’t even care that you’re a woman who’s beat a fair digit of men. Where I come from, in my culture, I’ve seen women strong enough not only to whip you around like Jaden Smith’s hair, but also to some of the men on this roster. I’m not a sexist, Patti, I’m a realist. I won’t beat you because you’re a woman, I’ll beat you because you’re not a good enough woman to defeat me.
“I’ve trained against shieldmaidens before, true women warriors who dedicate their lives to mastering the balance between femininity and skill in combat. Do you think I’ve won every single sparring match I’ve participated in? You’d be a fool. I’ve spent decades, just as you have, perfecting the art of Viking. When I was in prison, I never pussied out of a fight when challenged. My victories and my defeats have shaped me, forged me into the warrior you see before you today. But you know nothing of what I am capable of. I could spend the rest of the week watching your back catalogue of matches across the companies you’ve competed in, learning the ins and outs of every trick you’ll try to use against me. You could never learn what I’m capable of until you experience it firsthand.”
Dag balls up his fists, stands up out of his wooden stool and takes a step toward the camera. “You think you’ve been through hardships? Discrimination? You think you’ve had it rough because you’re a woman? You know nothing of true suffering!” His voice raises in anger. He despises the false front put on by this pampered affluent supermodel.
“You’ve never experienced the fire. Not like I have. You know nothing about hardship and loss. You honestly believe that falling from the heights of your career is what it means to come face to face with misfortune. You have no idea, no ability co conceive of the trials I’ve been through, and you think you are hardened by the first world problems you’ve tweeted about on your social media to thousands and thousands of loyal followers. It’s amazing how you’re almost a decade my senior and yet you are so quick to assimilate into this modern culture of self pity and sympathy circle jerking.”
Dagvald grabs the phone he’s recording on with both hands, and brings his face uncomfortably close to the lens. “You are nothing to me, Patti Rose. In the sheer scale of misery I’ve endured, any pain I feel brought upon me by your fists or wrestling techniques will be utterly cathartic. I live for the feeling of brinkmanship. I long for that ever elusive glorious death in battle so I may ascend into Valhalla and progenate my glory unto my spirit descendants. I will not defeat you because I want to. I will beat you solely because you do not deserve the honor of sending me into the eternal battle. You are nothing, you are not uniquely capable, and you will face your mediocrity once again as you endure your second loss in what will surely be your final match in Action Wrestling, if not your wrestling career as a whole.”
Dag abruptly closes out the recording. As he slowly descends from the realm of godlike fury, his senses return to him, and he picks up on the rhythmic scratching on his door. He walks over and opens it, letting Beowulf in his bedroom. His loyal Norwegian Elkhound has been more attached since he disappeared for several days earlier in the month. “I used to have someone just as loving as you, Wulf. Few beings can match the loyalty of a good dog for his master. Isabella was truly special. I wonder if perhaps she will recognize me in the media someday as my fame grows with this company. I can only wish she would welcome me back with loving heart as you did when I was gone before.”