Post by Corey Bull on Oct 28, 2018 18:52:24 GMT -5
OFF CAMERA
1148
Hours before the battle of Damascus
Second Crusade for the holy lands
The darkness was complete. It had swallowed this land just as it had every night since the sun had seen this land. It amazed even those that lived here constantly just how dark it becomes. But among that darkness lay many a fire indicating the tents and front lines of the Selijuk Turks. And these front lines, these tents, they stand before the city of Damascus. And it is outside this great city, inside a very large tent, stood Corey Bull, dressed in such a way as to suggest him a Knight of Solomon, or more popular a Knight Templar. And on his left stands Nur ad-Din, emir of Aleppo. ad-Din has made an alliance with the ruler of Damascus, Mu'in ad-Din Unur al-Atabeki. A large, and well drawn map, of the area outside and within the city of Damascus sits upon a table. Bull is pointing out spots here and there.
“We have overheard some of the plans. They intend to attack here and here, assuming they can get their siege engines finished by sunrise. If not, they they will attempt ladder and hook.”
as-Din rubs his hand along his face, ending at his chin.
“I see what you are speaking of. They are to attempt to attack some of the strongest points. That seems to be suicidal if I am not mistaken. They can not even begin to rise a large enough force to take those positions beyond the wall.”
“They have the Jewish people now on their side. Many might think them non fighters, but that is a mistake. We have seen many of them show skill in battle that is truly exciting to watch.”
“But why this? Why attack the strong points?”
Bull grins, then places his hand on the map, his finger indicating something of interest. The emir looks at it and slants his head.
“What of it?
“It is a weak point in the defenses. If they can manage to get their siege engine up or even a simple battering ram and enough cover, they can make a hole to flow their whole force into the city. By attacking these other two points and feigning ignorance of an obvious weak spot, they hope to draw your forces off of it and go after it with a small group of men.”
The emirs head straightens.
“They intend to do the opposite of the normal siege options. I see now Master Bull. This is most intriguing. With this piece of information, Damascus shall not fall on the morn, no, it will in fact rise up in victory.”
Bull nods, and turns, picking up a sword and sliding it into a scabbard, then lifting a helm off of a chair. But unlike the normal helm of the Templar, this one is black with two curving horns coming off of the side. Its shape suggest it was built in the manner of a bull skull, but it is obvious to anyone that it is a solid piece of metal.
“Before you leave Master Bull, I do have a few questions.”
Bull turns and tilts his head as if to suggest he speak.
“Why are you turning on your own people?”
Bull grins and shakes his head.
“These are not my people. That is an illusion. These are my enemies, sworn for many many years now. But we are just one, they are many. To ensure they meet their end, we must use what is at our disposal. We use their own follys against them.”
“Follys?”
“They think the Holy Lands belong to them, though the majority of the people that will die tomorrow will have zero connection to the lands beyond them being their graves. These lands belong to the people that can bind their roots to the place for many decades. Your people, absolutely. Some of the Jewish people, sure. But the men that fight for the Pope, none of them. So we become one with our enemy so that they may show us the best way to defeat them.”
“I see. Last question. Your helm, this I have read about before in much older books. Is it…”
Bulls eyes take on a dangerous quality
“None of your business? Yes...yes it is.”
The guards reach for swords, but a raise of the emirs hand stops them. A bit of understanding passes between the man and the monster, and with a nod of heads, Bull walks out of the tent, climbs upon a large black stallion, and disappears into the inky darkness of the night.
ON CAMERA
**Deep in the bowels of the Bismark Arena, inside the modernized boiler room, which no longer contains a boiler, sits Corey Bull. The monster is leaning against the cement wall, sitting on a low wooden bench. His legs are stretched out before him and his head is back and against the wall, his eyes staring up into the ceiling of pipes and wiring**
“Last week...we focused on the elimination of Shadowlove and Deruty. And so it has come to pass. Neither man is going to be the same after that match...neither man will be heard from for some time. That we can guarantee. But that was last week. And now...now we move forward...one step at a time...towards our ultimate goal...towards our mystery opportunity. We are pretty sure that management has zero idea what it is...that it was just a marketing ploy to get the match over. But if any of them watched it...they would know that no loy was needed to get the match over. But we are dam sure going to hold them to it. That there had better be a pay off to that match. You should be careful what you promise or insist in the future or it will come to be your nightmare.”
“So now we move to Dandy DiVito. The man that beat TFK. The current US Champ. In a non title match….”
**The last few sentences come out automatic...no feeling...just monotone as fuck**
“Well WHOOPITYFRICKINDO!”
**Bull snaps to a sitting position. No literally, cause when he shifts forward faster than your mom drops drawers for the mailman, his entire body seems to crackle into position. It’s a sickening sound, like a bowl of snap crackle and pop on acid. Bull snaps his neck last, his eyes never leaving the camera, two black holes of power**
“Three matches and the US Champ. Thats pretty good. But who cares Dandy? No one. Well, probably TFK because he gets butt hurt everytime he losses. But we can honestly sit here and tell you that we….just don’t fucking care. We don’t care if you have had three matches or three hundred matches. We are going to walk in and stuff your title down your fucking throat.”
**Bull grins and shrugs his shoulders**
“Yeah...we are in a mood. We get it...where is all the dark and creepy and blah blah blah that we are so use to in a Bull moment. Well….fuck it. Being smarter and stronger than our opponents...just isn’t enough for us! So we are just going to be more..of whatever the fuck we want to be. And you Dandy...you get to be the first person to stand in the ring and feel what it is like to be a mouse in the path of a steamroller. All squish...no chances. Run as fast as you can...this room has a start and a stop and the steamroller is as wide as the place. We don’t even want to give you a chance...hell we don’t even feel like messing with you this week. We just want to walk out there and make someone our bitch. And you get to be it Dandy.”
“Why? Why the fuck not. Why do we need a reason...why do we need to explain what we are going to do? We don’t! We are as we are and everyone knows we are capable of things that will make their mind turn and their stomach make an exit through their mouth. So telling you...someone who doesn’t care who we are...makes zero sense. Telling the fans...those people who have followed us loyally since day one...the same shit they already know...makes no sense to us today. Instead...we leave you to ponder Dandy. Ponder what it is we are going to do. Ponder what sick and new things we have thought u for this match. And ponder...just how long it will be before someone puts a boot in your ass so deep they tie their laces through your nose. Oh oops….did we just give away what we might do tonight?! It is possible….”
**Bull smirks and shrugs his shoulders...a failed attempt at innocence to be sure**
“Look..Dandy….we don’t care what you think to be honest. We don’t care what anyone thinks. We just care that you are in our way and that you must be removed. And that is what we plan on doing. We walk to the ring...hand you a healthy dose of Oh Fuck That Hurts….and than we can head out and on to other things. What those things are...who fucking knows. But you Dandy….you will be laying on the mat and nailed….with...HATE.”
**Bull stands and walks out of the scene as the camera fades to black**
1148
Hours before the battle of Damascus
Second Crusade for the holy lands
The darkness was complete. It had swallowed this land just as it had every night since the sun had seen this land. It amazed even those that lived here constantly just how dark it becomes. But among that darkness lay many a fire indicating the tents and front lines of the Selijuk Turks. And these front lines, these tents, they stand before the city of Damascus. And it is outside this great city, inside a very large tent, stood Corey Bull, dressed in such a way as to suggest him a Knight of Solomon, or more popular a Knight Templar. And on his left stands Nur ad-Din, emir of Aleppo. ad-Din has made an alliance with the ruler of Damascus, Mu'in ad-Din Unur al-Atabeki. A large, and well drawn map, of the area outside and within the city of Damascus sits upon a table. Bull is pointing out spots here and there.
“We have overheard some of the plans. They intend to attack here and here, assuming they can get their siege engines finished by sunrise. If not, they they will attempt ladder and hook.”
as-Din rubs his hand along his face, ending at his chin.
“I see what you are speaking of. They are to attempt to attack some of the strongest points. That seems to be suicidal if I am not mistaken. They can not even begin to rise a large enough force to take those positions beyond the wall.”
“They have the Jewish people now on their side. Many might think them non fighters, but that is a mistake. We have seen many of them show skill in battle that is truly exciting to watch.”
“But why this? Why attack the strong points?”
Bull grins, then places his hand on the map, his finger indicating something of interest. The emir looks at it and slants his head.
“What of it?
“It is a weak point in the defenses. If they can manage to get their siege engine up or even a simple battering ram and enough cover, they can make a hole to flow their whole force into the city. By attacking these other two points and feigning ignorance of an obvious weak spot, they hope to draw your forces off of it and go after it with a small group of men.”
The emirs head straightens.
“They intend to do the opposite of the normal siege options. I see now Master Bull. This is most intriguing. With this piece of information, Damascus shall not fall on the morn, no, it will in fact rise up in victory.”
Bull nods, and turns, picking up a sword and sliding it into a scabbard, then lifting a helm off of a chair. But unlike the normal helm of the Templar, this one is black with two curving horns coming off of the side. Its shape suggest it was built in the manner of a bull skull, but it is obvious to anyone that it is a solid piece of metal.
“Before you leave Master Bull, I do have a few questions.”
Bull turns and tilts his head as if to suggest he speak.
“Why are you turning on your own people?”
Bull grins and shakes his head.
“These are not my people. That is an illusion. These are my enemies, sworn for many many years now. But we are just one, they are many. To ensure they meet their end, we must use what is at our disposal. We use their own follys against them.”
“Follys?”
“They think the Holy Lands belong to them, though the majority of the people that will die tomorrow will have zero connection to the lands beyond them being their graves. These lands belong to the people that can bind their roots to the place for many decades. Your people, absolutely. Some of the Jewish people, sure. But the men that fight for the Pope, none of them. So we become one with our enemy so that they may show us the best way to defeat them.”
“I see. Last question. Your helm, this I have read about before in much older books. Is it…”
Bulls eyes take on a dangerous quality
“None of your business? Yes...yes it is.”
The guards reach for swords, but a raise of the emirs hand stops them. A bit of understanding passes between the man and the monster, and with a nod of heads, Bull walks out of the tent, climbs upon a large black stallion, and disappears into the inky darkness of the night.
ON CAMERA
**Deep in the bowels of the Bismark Arena, inside the modernized boiler room, which no longer contains a boiler, sits Corey Bull. The monster is leaning against the cement wall, sitting on a low wooden bench. His legs are stretched out before him and his head is back and against the wall, his eyes staring up into the ceiling of pipes and wiring**
“Last week...we focused on the elimination of Shadowlove and Deruty. And so it has come to pass. Neither man is going to be the same after that match...neither man will be heard from for some time. That we can guarantee. But that was last week. And now...now we move forward...one step at a time...towards our ultimate goal...towards our mystery opportunity. We are pretty sure that management has zero idea what it is...that it was just a marketing ploy to get the match over. But if any of them watched it...they would know that no loy was needed to get the match over. But we are dam sure going to hold them to it. That there had better be a pay off to that match. You should be careful what you promise or insist in the future or it will come to be your nightmare.”
“So now we move to Dandy DiVito. The man that beat TFK. The current US Champ. In a non title match….”
**The last few sentences come out automatic...no feeling...just monotone as fuck**
“Well WHOOPITYFRICKINDO!”
**Bull snaps to a sitting position. No literally, cause when he shifts forward faster than your mom drops drawers for the mailman, his entire body seems to crackle into position. It’s a sickening sound, like a bowl of snap crackle and pop on acid. Bull snaps his neck last, his eyes never leaving the camera, two black holes of power**
“Three matches and the US Champ. Thats pretty good. But who cares Dandy? No one. Well, probably TFK because he gets butt hurt everytime he losses. But we can honestly sit here and tell you that we….just don’t fucking care. We don’t care if you have had three matches or three hundred matches. We are going to walk in and stuff your title down your fucking throat.”
**Bull grins and shrugs his shoulders**
“Yeah...we are in a mood. We get it...where is all the dark and creepy and blah blah blah that we are so use to in a Bull moment. Well….fuck it. Being smarter and stronger than our opponents...just isn’t enough for us! So we are just going to be more..of whatever the fuck we want to be. And you Dandy...you get to be the first person to stand in the ring and feel what it is like to be a mouse in the path of a steamroller. All squish...no chances. Run as fast as you can...this room has a start and a stop and the steamroller is as wide as the place. We don’t even want to give you a chance...hell we don’t even feel like messing with you this week. We just want to walk out there and make someone our bitch. And you get to be it Dandy.”
“Why? Why the fuck not. Why do we need a reason...why do we need to explain what we are going to do? We don’t! We are as we are and everyone knows we are capable of things that will make their mind turn and their stomach make an exit through their mouth. So telling you...someone who doesn’t care who we are...makes zero sense. Telling the fans...those people who have followed us loyally since day one...the same shit they already know...makes no sense to us today. Instead...we leave you to ponder Dandy. Ponder what it is we are going to do. Ponder what sick and new things we have thought u for this match. And ponder...just how long it will be before someone puts a boot in your ass so deep they tie their laces through your nose. Oh oops….did we just give away what we might do tonight?! It is possible….”
**Bull smirks and shrugs his shoulders...a failed attempt at innocence to be sure**
“Look..Dandy….we don’t care what you think to be honest. We don’t care what anyone thinks. We just care that you are in our way and that you must be removed. And that is what we plan on doing. We walk to the ring...hand you a healthy dose of Oh Fuck That Hurts….and than we can head out and on to other things. What those things are...who fucking knows. But you Dandy….you will be laying on the mat and nailed….with...HATE.”
**Bull stands and walks out of the scene as the camera fades to black**