Post by Corey Bull on Mar 18, 2018 15:11:33 GMT -5
"The art of war teaches us to rely not on the likelihood of the enemy's not coming, but on our own readiness to receive him; not on the chance of his not attacking, but rather on the fact that we have made our position unassailable."
- Sun Tzu
OFFCAMERA
The sun shines bright through the glass doors of this large home in the Great Northwoods. Standing before the door, looking out over the lake, the forest, and to the tomb that sits some distance from his home, is the monster, the fallen angel, the immortal. The Hatebringer Corey Bull. No longer forced to wear the silver death mask of his profession from thousands of years ago, his face doesn't look as if he is older then his thiries. Having walked this plane for more then three thousand years, the number of sunrises he has seen is unfathomable to most people. And yet, here is one more time, watching the sunrise. The clicking of boot heels is heard across a lumber floor and Raven Darkhawk walks next to her brother. Another fallen angel, the sister of Corey Bull, and assassin for hire, Raven is wearing her usual black leather boots, black leather pants, a black wife beater and a black leather biker jacket. She stands next to her brother, only ten inches shorter then him. Her hair is a long wave of trusses that reach her ass, which the camera lingers on for some weird reason.
"Never gets old does it."
"No. Of all the things I love the most, watching that big ball of flaming gases appear in the sky everyday is one of them."
Bull cocks his head slowly towards his sister.
"Don't do that. We enjoy so little these days. This....this is one of those things that we enjoy. Ever since we fell to Earth, this was the one thing that kept us going. Every time we opened our eyes to a new day, it was one more step towards stopping the God-Machines reign."
"It makes ya wonder what would have become of this system had the big metal bitch not come here and formed these balls of rock."
Bull looks back out over the rising sun.
"No. We try not to worry about that. We have other concerns."
Raven turns, a quick reveal of a Ruger SR1911 tucker under her arm, and walks to the table. On it sits the UCI Championship title and the NBW Heavyweight Championship. Raven lifts each belt to look at them, then turns.
"So whats the skinny?"
Bull turns and walks towards the table.
"Well after Steve worked his magic and sunk Pryde, NBW fell. Those secret backers disappeared. Steve is still following their cyber trail, but physically we have no idea where they went to. Probably Sector Z for wall we know."
Raven raises her eyebrow.
"And then we decided to sign at Action Wrestling, only to have our first night there show us Spencer Adams being a disrespectful ass and proclaiming himself the UCI World Heavyweight Champion, and then throwing out a challenge. So..."
"So you followed your anger and you leveled him."
"Yeah...that."
Raven shakes her head and laughs.
"You can kick the killing angel out of heaven, but you can't kick the kill out of him."
Bull shakes his head.
"He was being disrespectful of this belts legacy! Preecha had the title when UCI fell, he was the champion....he is the champion. This is an imitation...a mockery. Let them call us UCI Champion. We won't carry that title....or that title."
Raven rubs her temples in a moment.
"So if your the champion....and you won't carry either title....what then?"
Bull shrugs.
"We have a plan."
"Think the bosses will let you get away with it?"
Bull shrugs.
"We won't give them much of a choice. Plus, Gravedigger seems like a reasonable mad man, he'll understand."
"Well try to use your words this time."
"Ha fucking ha."
Bull smiles and so does Raven, It's more akin to a pair of sharks smelling blood in the water then anything pleasant.
"So who they got you dealing with first."
"Some little mobster."
Raven lets out a deep sigh.
"Italian, Sicilian, or Russian?"
"Italian. Some little unknown family. We checked with Vladimir. They are not that big of a force."
Raven nods and starts to walk to the door.
"So where you off to know?"
Raven turns.
"I'm going to get a back hoe. The last time you dealt with a mob family, I had to dig a lot of graves. Figure I'll just get ahead of it. We can put them in the swamp next to the other ones."
Bull chuckles, looking at the titles as Raven leaves and everything fades.
ONCAMERA
**The click of work boots on cement...a black screen.....and then the voice of violence personified speaks. The deep bass, the rumble of thunder in the night. It belongs to one man who isn't a man...but a monster. Corey Bull. The Hatebringer. The Angel of Hate. Violence Personified. Hell's Bastard Son. Call him what you will, there has never been any doubt that the man monster is a name that makes people listen. Images appear on the screen, Bull's voice speaking over them. Images from very old footage. Footage of an asylum during the tuberculosis era, people dying in beds from being over treated, being under treated, and all sorts of other reasons in between.**
"Sick of the way the world is going? Lost an arm? Suffered a loss so great that your heart hangs heavy? Then D.E.A.T.H. has the answer."
**Images flip to ruin filled streets, warlords arm soldiers firing into crowds, conflict on a scale most in the west do not even understand**
"Has your home been destroyed? Your life? Then D.E.A.T.H. has the answer."
**A light comes on...just one, over the head of the mosnter. He sits in an electric chair, one that he acquired many many years ago. he rests his forearms on his thighs and his hands are together, fingers interlocked**
"It does not matter what the question is....for D.E.A.T.H. always has the answer. You can change the question as many times as you like...but in the end, the answer shall remain. Destroy Everything And Take Honor. It is a personal code we have tried to live by for thousands of years. Destroy your fears. Destroy your enemies. Destroy your inhibitions. Move forward....ever forward....and do what must be done. Do the things others won't. Be your own being."
**Bull sits up and leans back**
"And so far....it has been a code we have held ourself to. It was the reason we walked out onto Action Wrestling's Monday Night Clash and sent Spencer Adams back to the hole he crawled out of an liberated the UCI Championship from a man that did not deserve to hold it. The fact that he would piss on it's legacy...on the legacy of those that held it before...of those that STILL hold it....was a mockery. Preecha was the champion when UCI fell. That means he is the TRUE UCI Heavyweight Champion until someone takes it from him."
"But...."
**Bulls grin can be seen**
"Gravedigger has created a loophole we intend to exploit by dubbing it the UCI Championship. But we still feel that this title shouldn't be seen. It just doesn't feel....right. So we are going to change that. And how we change it...well that just means people are going to have to tune into Monday Night Clash and see what happens. So until then...we will let the internet trolls and marks throw around their theories."
"Besides....we have other fish to fry."
**Bull stands and cracks his neck, rotating his shoulders and stretching as he speaks, slowly walking around the edges of the light**
"Charlie 'The Ghost' Rossi. A man that seems to think he is more imprortant then he really is. Listening to you speak...you act as if we are some scared little pissant and this is our first ride. You even go so far as to call us a cookie cutter of all others like us. And that, Charlie....is so far from the truth that it could be told to children as a bedtime story. Either your stupid and you have underestimated our true ability.....or your ignorant and don't think we dignify a proper preperation. Either way...you have placed yourself into a position of absolute trouble."
**Bull stops and moves back into the light and sits down, his eyes staring holes into the camera**
"Because you seem to have mistaken us for someone who is afraid. Someone who has a "stick up our ass". You assume they are feeding us to a caged animal...but in fact you are the sheep who thinks he is a wolf and has walked into the packs den. But this pack has just....one...alpha. A very large....very hungry alpha. An alpha who has chewed on the bones of individuals more talented and more dangerous then you."
"The fact that you do not fear us is good Charlie. Because fear...taints the meat. We don't want you to fear us...we want you to walk into this thinking you are the hand picked winner. So that at the moment when your light fades from your eyes and the horrors of your current reality come crashing down onto you...then at that moment...we will begin our art. We will create a masterpiece in violence, our preferred art form. And these right here...."
**Bull lifts two massive fists up**
"...these are the brushes we will use to weave our masterpiece, with your own bodily fluids being the pain. Your bones....your screams....your pain....they shall all weave together into this piece of art to make the crowd frenzy with bloodlust. And when you are lying on your back staring at the lights....you will realize that hate knocked on your door....and you stupidly opened it. Only to get nailed by it! Monday.....Monday is a day of personal reflection for you Charlie. Because you won't be able to do anything else when we are done."
**Bull grins and it makes many cringe with a sudden feeling of being a prey animal in the sights of the predator, as the camera fades to black**
- Sun Tzu
OFFCAMERA
The sun shines bright through the glass doors of this large home in the Great Northwoods. Standing before the door, looking out over the lake, the forest, and to the tomb that sits some distance from his home, is the monster, the fallen angel, the immortal. The Hatebringer Corey Bull. No longer forced to wear the silver death mask of his profession from thousands of years ago, his face doesn't look as if he is older then his thiries. Having walked this plane for more then three thousand years, the number of sunrises he has seen is unfathomable to most people. And yet, here is one more time, watching the sunrise. The clicking of boot heels is heard across a lumber floor and Raven Darkhawk walks next to her brother. Another fallen angel, the sister of Corey Bull, and assassin for hire, Raven is wearing her usual black leather boots, black leather pants, a black wife beater and a black leather biker jacket. She stands next to her brother, only ten inches shorter then him. Her hair is a long wave of trusses that reach her ass, which the camera lingers on for some weird reason.
"Never gets old does it."
"No. Of all the things I love the most, watching that big ball of flaming gases appear in the sky everyday is one of them."
Bull cocks his head slowly towards his sister.
"Don't do that. We enjoy so little these days. This....this is one of those things that we enjoy. Ever since we fell to Earth, this was the one thing that kept us going. Every time we opened our eyes to a new day, it was one more step towards stopping the God-Machines reign."
"It makes ya wonder what would have become of this system had the big metal bitch not come here and formed these balls of rock."
Bull looks back out over the rising sun.
"No. We try not to worry about that. We have other concerns."
Raven turns, a quick reveal of a Ruger SR1911 tucker under her arm, and walks to the table. On it sits the UCI Championship title and the NBW Heavyweight Championship. Raven lifts each belt to look at them, then turns.
"So whats the skinny?"
Bull turns and walks towards the table.
"Well after Steve worked his magic and sunk Pryde, NBW fell. Those secret backers disappeared. Steve is still following their cyber trail, but physically we have no idea where they went to. Probably Sector Z for wall we know."
Raven raises her eyebrow.
"And then we decided to sign at Action Wrestling, only to have our first night there show us Spencer Adams being a disrespectful ass and proclaiming himself the UCI World Heavyweight Champion, and then throwing out a challenge. So..."
"So you followed your anger and you leveled him."
"Yeah...that."
Raven shakes her head and laughs.
"You can kick the killing angel out of heaven, but you can't kick the kill out of him."
Bull shakes his head.
"He was being disrespectful of this belts legacy! Preecha had the title when UCI fell, he was the champion....he is the champion. This is an imitation...a mockery. Let them call us UCI Champion. We won't carry that title....or that title."
Raven rubs her temples in a moment.
"So if your the champion....and you won't carry either title....what then?"
Bull shrugs.
"We have a plan."
"Think the bosses will let you get away with it?"
Bull shrugs.
"We won't give them much of a choice. Plus, Gravedigger seems like a reasonable mad man, he'll understand."
"Well try to use your words this time."
"Ha fucking ha."
Bull smiles and so does Raven, It's more akin to a pair of sharks smelling blood in the water then anything pleasant.
"So who they got you dealing with first."
"Some little mobster."
Raven lets out a deep sigh.
"Italian, Sicilian, or Russian?"
"Italian. Some little unknown family. We checked with Vladimir. They are not that big of a force."
Raven nods and starts to walk to the door.
"So where you off to know?"
Raven turns.
"I'm going to get a back hoe. The last time you dealt with a mob family, I had to dig a lot of graves. Figure I'll just get ahead of it. We can put them in the swamp next to the other ones."
Bull chuckles, looking at the titles as Raven leaves and everything fades.
ONCAMERA
**The click of work boots on cement...a black screen.....and then the voice of violence personified speaks. The deep bass, the rumble of thunder in the night. It belongs to one man who isn't a man...but a monster. Corey Bull. The Hatebringer. The Angel of Hate. Violence Personified. Hell's Bastard Son. Call him what you will, there has never been any doubt that the man monster is a name that makes people listen. Images appear on the screen, Bull's voice speaking over them. Images from very old footage. Footage of an asylum during the tuberculosis era, people dying in beds from being over treated, being under treated, and all sorts of other reasons in between.**
"Sick of the way the world is going? Lost an arm? Suffered a loss so great that your heart hangs heavy? Then D.E.A.T.H. has the answer."
**Images flip to ruin filled streets, warlords arm soldiers firing into crowds, conflict on a scale most in the west do not even understand**
"Has your home been destroyed? Your life? Then D.E.A.T.H. has the answer."
**A light comes on...just one, over the head of the mosnter. He sits in an electric chair, one that he acquired many many years ago. he rests his forearms on his thighs and his hands are together, fingers interlocked**
"It does not matter what the question is....for D.E.A.T.H. always has the answer. You can change the question as many times as you like...but in the end, the answer shall remain. Destroy Everything And Take Honor. It is a personal code we have tried to live by for thousands of years. Destroy your fears. Destroy your enemies. Destroy your inhibitions. Move forward....ever forward....and do what must be done. Do the things others won't. Be your own being."
**Bull sits up and leans back**
"And so far....it has been a code we have held ourself to. It was the reason we walked out onto Action Wrestling's Monday Night Clash and sent Spencer Adams back to the hole he crawled out of an liberated the UCI Championship from a man that did not deserve to hold it. The fact that he would piss on it's legacy...on the legacy of those that held it before...of those that STILL hold it....was a mockery. Preecha was the champion when UCI fell. That means he is the TRUE UCI Heavyweight Champion until someone takes it from him."
"But...."
**Bulls grin can be seen**
"Gravedigger has created a loophole we intend to exploit by dubbing it the UCI Championship. But we still feel that this title shouldn't be seen. It just doesn't feel....right. So we are going to change that. And how we change it...well that just means people are going to have to tune into Monday Night Clash and see what happens. So until then...we will let the internet trolls and marks throw around their theories."
"Besides....we have other fish to fry."
**Bull stands and cracks his neck, rotating his shoulders and stretching as he speaks, slowly walking around the edges of the light**
"Charlie 'The Ghost' Rossi. A man that seems to think he is more imprortant then he really is. Listening to you speak...you act as if we are some scared little pissant and this is our first ride. You even go so far as to call us a cookie cutter of all others like us. And that, Charlie....is so far from the truth that it could be told to children as a bedtime story. Either your stupid and you have underestimated our true ability.....or your ignorant and don't think we dignify a proper preperation. Either way...you have placed yourself into a position of absolute trouble."
**Bull stops and moves back into the light and sits down, his eyes staring holes into the camera**
"Because you seem to have mistaken us for someone who is afraid. Someone who has a "stick up our ass". You assume they are feeding us to a caged animal...but in fact you are the sheep who thinks he is a wolf and has walked into the packs den. But this pack has just....one...alpha. A very large....very hungry alpha. An alpha who has chewed on the bones of individuals more talented and more dangerous then you."
"The fact that you do not fear us is good Charlie. Because fear...taints the meat. We don't want you to fear us...we want you to walk into this thinking you are the hand picked winner. So that at the moment when your light fades from your eyes and the horrors of your current reality come crashing down onto you...then at that moment...we will begin our art. We will create a masterpiece in violence, our preferred art form. And these right here...."
**Bull lifts two massive fists up**
"...these are the brushes we will use to weave our masterpiece, with your own bodily fluids being the pain. Your bones....your screams....your pain....they shall all weave together into this piece of art to make the crowd frenzy with bloodlust. And when you are lying on your back staring at the lights....you will realize that hate knocked on your door....and you stupidly opened it. Only to get nailed by it! Monday.....Monday is a day of personal reflection for you Charlie. Because you won't be able to do anything else when we are done."
**Bull grins and it makes many cringe with a sudden feeling of being a prey animal in the sights of the predator, as the camera fades to black**