Deadliest Warrior
Mar 6, 2020 15:16:41 GMT -5
“The RevolutiDaddy” Wesley, Addy A, and 3 more like this
Post by Dagvald Riddik on Mar 6, 2020 15:16:41 GMT -5
In the midst of a picturesque dreamscape, a Valkyrie descends from Yggdrasil and wraps her muscular arms around Dagvald before he can realize he can’t open his mouth. He watches the fjords drop further below him as though Midgard is falling rather than he is climbing through the air. After what feels like an eternity, his feet make contact with the sunbathed floor. He looks up and beholds Hliðskjálf. Óðinn, joined by Frigg, are expecting him. The All-father locks his sole eye on the Chosen One, as do Huginn and Muninn.
“You say you can do this on your own. I challenge you to uphold your destiny, my son. Prove yourself. Show me you don’t need me.”
Then it is the ravens’ turns, though they speak as one. To Dag’s surprise, they speak in female voices, Muninn soft and sweet, Huginn breathy and confident.
“Prove yourself to us. Prove you are who you say you are so that one day, we shall finally come to perch upon your shoulders once more, as we had so long ago. On the day you are worthy of our eternal loyalty, thence shall it be shared with you.”
Dagvald jerks upright in his bed.
“I shall bring you back to me… My Dearest Isabella.”
“Guided by the wings of the Valkyries, I shall ascend to victory on your trampled skull. Jacqueline Monroe, you stand before me as an attempt by management to make an example of me. I’m not stupid, I am thoroughly in touch with how the world at large perceives my so-called coming short of backing up the claims I make. While I demand worthy challengers and disparage the morsels of easy meat henceforth tossed to me from the trash, I appear to have failed to conquer the one serious opponent put before me thus far.
“When I was pinned by Wesley, my eyes were opened to the truth. For so long, I was certain I had been handpicked by the gods to have the ultimate victory handed to me on a silver platter. But on that day, I realized the truth. Jacqueline, you are not dealing with the Dagvald Riddik you’ve researched, the Dagvald who won the Legacy Championship, or the one who lost clean to The IllumiDaddy. I promise you, all your tape watching and case studies, all the advice given to you by your sensei, has been rendered null and void. In your first week of being contracted to Action Wrestling, you said that you knew your opponents better than they knew you. You told them, nobody can change significantly in just one or two weeks. You were wrong.
“The tables have been turned, and now it’s you who faces the unknown. Here’s something your little Asian twink wouldn’t think to warn you about: Dagvald roughly translates to He Who Walks Two Worlds. I have borne this prophecy since my very incarnation, and you think you stand a chance against a demigod because you have your experience and technical skill. You have no means of conceiving what I’m capable of. You put so much stock in your training and strategic ability that you fail to recognize sometimes, it isn’t those who train their whole lives, those who dedicate their very existence to mastering an art who come out on top. Sometimes life isn’t fair, and you’re about to feel extremely unlucky.
“I’m sure you’re doubting every word I say, Jacqui. You feel confident, you crushed Leonhart and you feel prepared to break out of this midcard hell you’re stuck in at my expense. You’re ready to no longer be viewed as the curtain jerker. Except that’s the problem, isn’t it? I know your secret: you’re most effective when you’re angry. You let out your rage on Addy A in that steel cage and you lost anyway, then you used that frustration on Leonhart and blew your load like it’s the end of No Nut November.
“Half of my career in Action Wrestling has been facing opponents just like you, Jacqui. In fact, I was absolutely convinced up until today that I was getting a rematch with Patti fucking Rose. You’re anything but an X-factor to me now that I’ve beat her and Jaice Wilds, both multi-time champions with decades of experience, international training and expertise, and where did that get them? Flat on their asses on the mat, exactly where you’ll be come Monday night. This isn’t just a match to me, this is my opportunity to prove myself right. This is my one last chance to prove that NeoNordicism, that my very way of life, is valid, that I am capable of facing the challenges I demand and earning the opportunities I’m entitled to. If I have to grind the wrinkled faces of every grizzled veteran in this business beneath my heel, then that’s exactly what the fuck I’ll do.
“I’ll give you all the credit in the world for your championship victories and accomplishments in other feds over the years. I even gave fucking Jaice Wilds the dues he’s owed, because it makes my inevitable victory that much sweeter. I am entirely self trained, and I sure as fuck never had to go to Japan to let some Coronavirus sleepercell show me how to kick extra hard. I wonder, if you were trained to be so proficient, why is your go-to move a bloody bodyscissor? I rely on brute strength bestowed unto me by Þórr, god of thunder, and even my favorite submission requires more tactical knowledge.
“I trained myself in the ways of my ancestors, the fighting style which won us incalculable wealth, legendary glory and land stretching from Moscow to Vinland. You’ve trained in the way of the samurai, a relic from an era when Japan couldn’t even sort itself out let alone expand beyond it’s island shores. On Monday, the world will see exactly what would have happened if the Berserker warriors and Ragnar’s raiders had met the infighting, backstabbing samurai in mortal combat.”
“You say you can do this on your own. I challenge you to uphold your destiny, my son. Prove yourself. Show me you don’t need me.”
Then it is the ravens’ turns, though they speak as one. To Dag’s surprise, they speak in female voices, Muninn soft and sweet, Huginn breathy and confident.
“Prove yourself to us. Prove you are who you say you are so that one day, we shall finally come to perch upon your shoulders once more, as we had so long ago. On the day you are worthy of our eternal loyalty, thence shall it be shared with you.”
Dagvald jerks upright in his bed.
“I shall bring you back to me… My Dearest Isabella.”
“Guided by the wings of the Valkyries, I shall ascend to victory on your trampled skull. Jacqueline Monroe, you stand before me as an attempt by management to make an example of me. I’m not stupid, I am thoroughly in touch with how the world at large perceives my so-called coming short of backing up the claims I make. While I demand worthy challengers and disparage the morsels of easy meat henceforth tossed to me from the trash, I appear to have failed to conquer the one serious opponent put before me thus far.
“When I was pinned by Wesley, my eyes were opened to the truth. For so long, I was certain I had been handpicked by the gods to have the ultimate victory handed to me on a silver platter. But on that day, I realized the truth. Jacqueline, you are not dealing with the Dagvald Riddik you’ve researched, the Dagvald who won the Legacy Championship, or the one who lost clean to The IllumiDaddy. I promise you, all your tape watching and case studies, all the advice given to you by your sensei, has been rendered null and void. In your first week of being contracted to Action Wrestling, you said that you knew your opponents better than they knew you. You told them, nobody can change significantly in just one or two weeks. You were wrong.
“The tables have been turned, and now it’s you who faces the unknown. Here’s something your little Asian twink wouldn’t think to warn you about: Dagvald roughly translates to He Who Walks Two Worlds. I have borne this prophecy since my very incarnation, and you think you stand a chance against a demigod because you have your experience and technical skill. You have no means of conceiving what I’m capable of. You put so much stock in your training and strategic ability that you fail to recognize sometimes, it isn’t those who train their whole lives, those who dedicate their very existence to mastering an art who come out on top. Sometimes life isn’t fair, and you’re about to feel extremely unlucky.
“I’m sure you’re doubting every word I say, Jacqui. You feel confident, you crushed Leonhart and you feel prepared to break out of this midcard hell you’re stuck in at my expense. You’re ready to no longer be viewed as the curtain jerker. Except that’s the problem, isn’t it? I know your secret: you’re most effective when you’re angry. You let out your rage on Addy A in that steel cage and you lost anyway, then you used that frustration on Leonhart and blew your load like it’s the end of No Nut November.
“Half of my career in Action Wrestling has been facing opponents just like you, Jacqui. In fact, I was absolutely convinced up until today that I was getting a rematch with Patti fucking Rose. You’re anything but an X-factor to me now that I’ve beat her and Jaice Wilds, both multi-time champions with decades of experience, international training and expertise, and where did that get them? Flat on their asses on the mat, exactly where you’ll be come Monday night. This isn’t just a match to me, this is my opportunity to prove myself right. This is my one last chance to prove that NeoNordicism, that my very way of life, is valid, that I am capable of facing the challenges I demand and earning the opportunities I’m entitled to. If I have to grind the wrinkled faces of every grizzled veteran in this business beneath my heel, then that’s exactly what the fuck I’ll do.
“I’ll give you all the credit in the world for your championship victories and accomplishments in other feds over the years. I even gave fucking Jaice Wilds the dues he’s owed, because it makes my inevitable victory that much sweeter. I am entirely self trained, and I sure as fuck never had to go to Japan to let some Coronavirus sleepercell show me how to kick extra hard. I wonder, if you were trained to be so proficient, why is your go-to move a bloody bodyscissor? I rely on brute strength bestowed unto me by Þórr, god of thunder, and even my favorite submission requires more tactical knowledge.
“I trained myself in the ways of my ancestors, the fighting style which won us incalculable wealth, legendary glory and land stretching from Moscow to Vinland. You’ve trained in the way of the samurai, a relic from an era when Japan couldn’t even sort itself out let alone expand beyond it’s island shores. On Monday, the world will see exactly what would have happened if the Berserker warriors and Ragnar’s raiders had met the infighting, backstabbing samurai in mortal combat.”