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Post by kennithnoisewater on Jan 24, 2008 0:51:07 GMT -5
I'm not afraid of you. In fact I think you are just like every other wrestler that comes in here trying to act all dark and mysterious, trying to intimidate everyone with your talk of destruction, and removing the impuraties from our souls. Everything you are telling me, I've heard a million times before. So don't talk to me about being afraid.
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Exodus
Lower Midcarder
A mystery wrapped within an enigma
Posts: 112
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Post by Exodus on Jan 24, 2008 1:00:34 GMT -5
Ah, such a generic response from the living equivalent of vanilla, it would be refreshing if it was not as mundane as the sun rising in the morning.
You are afraid, I can see it in you. You're afraid of me because I invalidate every wrong choice you have made, every person you have loved, every breath you take. You're afraid of me because, quite simply, I am the truest of outsiders in this world and that scares people such as yourself and most human beings, people who depend on the status quo not changing, on it always remaining solid.
However, you're not just afraid, you're also intrigued. Yes, I interest you like no other has done before or else you would step away from our debate and focus on matters more important to yourself. However, you continually return to me asking to be verbally slain; proving you have an interest in me that is sickening and unnatural but also so very pleasing to me at the same time.
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Post by kennithnoisewater on Jan 24, 2008 1:13:32 GMT -5
No one knows who or what you are. You are so full of yourself you think you are some kind of God. I'll admit that my bordom has caused me to become intrigued by you, but scared I am not. Because I know that if you were going to do what you say you are going to do you would not be doing that here. Do you follow me? Wrestling will not lead you to the gates of heaven. People are not here to search for enlightenment or whatever you are searching for or doing. They are simply here for themselves. They are here to be a champion. They are here to compete. Your sould purpose in life has nothing to do with this business. You belong elsewhere, and if I have to be the guy that sends you elsewhere then so be it. I won't back down from anyone, or anything in this case. I am not afraid.
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Post by Ro on Jan 24, 2008 3:07:22 GMT -5
OOC: Ribz and Ahriman, I need your pics.
And pwnage, who's the guy in your pic? I'll need another pic of him, full or half body shot facing front.
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Post by Craig Christ on Jan 24, 2008 3:21:12 GMT -5
OOC: pwnage's pic = Borromir from Lord of the Rings.
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Post by Ro on Jan 24, 2008 3:40:38 GMT -5
OOC: pwnage's pic = Borromir from Lord of the Rings. Now I know why it looks so familiar. I was actually thinking Patrick Dempsey, lol.
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cc
Developmental Talent
Posts: 37
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Post by cc on Jan 24, 2008 15:11:03 GMT -5
Never fear, Captain Courage is here to rid the wrestling world of its evil villains. Who will the first victim of justice.
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13
Developmental Talent
Posts: 38
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Post by 13 on Jan 24, 2008 15:22:25 GMT -5
Would you like to be the first to fall the Bounty of Bad Luck, 13? or should I save that for the man who thinks he's living Dungans and Dragons?
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Post by Erich Ahriman on Jan 24, 2008 17:14:32 GMT -5
Yawn...
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Post by kennithnoisewater on Jan 24, 2008 18:01:36 GMT -5
Oh man Captain Planet is here!!! I love your show man.
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cc
Developmental Talent
Posts: 37
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Post by cc on Jan 24, 2008 18:30:43 GMT -5
The name is Captain Courage but dont worry if you forget it though. After you step into the squared circle with me, justice will be served and you will never forget my name.
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Post by kennithnoisewater on Jan 24, 2008 19:06:14 GMT -5
Whats your name again? I'm just messing with you man, welcome to VCW.
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Cain Ravid
Lower Midcarder
"Not so; if anyone kills Cain, he will suffer vengeance seven times over."
Posts: 106
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Post by Cain Ravid on Jan 24, 2008 21:23:14 GMT -5
Another night in another city in another dingy motel room. There’s been hundreds…hell, thousands and there will certainly be thousands more. A never ending cycle taking place in a never ending story of pain and suffering.
A single beam of moonlight broke through a small separation in the plaid drapes that covered the large window of the motel room. The beam of unusually bright white light landed almost poetically on a half bottle of Aristocrat brand vodka. The clear beverage broke apart the moonlight like a poor man’s prism and caused speckles of white to fall upon the chrome plated pistol that lay on the table beside the bottle.
The beam of virgin white light lit just enough of the darkened room for the average eye to make out the silhouette of a man sitting on the corner of the queen sized bed. The man’s elbows rested on his knees, and his face rested in his hands. His long black hair dangled down and completely covered his hands.
The man dropped his hands from his face and let them hang between his knees. His hazel eyes traveled down his arm and fell upon the trembling hands that rested between his knees. His sight immediately found the scars that adorned the backs of his hands. The scars that resembled a lowercase “r”.
The man stretched out his right hand and wrapped his fingers around the slender neck of the cap less vodka bottle. He lifted his head just long enough to press the bottle to his lips and fill his mouth with the beverage. He pulled the bottle away and swallowed the burning liquid in a single swallow then, placed the bottle of cheap liquor back on the table beside the 9mm gun.
The vodka stung ever inch of his esophagus as it traveled its way to his stomach. A warming sensation shot through his entire body, heating each and every nerve ending in his body. After the sensation passed the man exhaled and continued to stare down at his scarred hands.
A single tear dropped from his left eyes and landed with a soft plop in the palm of his hand. He sniffled sharply. The man then clenched his palms tightly and spoke to himself rapidly in a whisper.
Man: Commodo abbas indulgeo mihi quod solvo mihi ex is poena.
There was a brief pause. Silence fell over the room and a certain sense of tranquility managed to work its way into the dingy Kentucky motel room. However, it didn’t last long. The man’s hand reached out and grabbed the grip of the 9mm on the table. In one single, fluid motion he inserted the open barreled end of the pistol into his mouth and clamped his teeth down upon the chromed shaft of the Taurus 9mm. He shut his eyes tightly and squeezed the trigger.
There was a loud bang as the gunpowder exploded inside the shaft of the gun. The metal bullet projectile shot out and ripped its way through the flesh, bone, and brain matter that made up the man’s head. Blood and skull flew out in all different directions until finally coming to a rest with a splatter against the cheap floral patterned wallpaper of the roadside motel. The man’s body collapsed backwards onto the bed. His arms sprawled outwards and his legs went completely limp. Somewhere in the distance a dog barked. Then….silence.
Complete silence.
Unfortunately the wonderfully comforting silence was broken rather quickly by the high pitched ring of a cell phone. The phone rang once. The phone rang twice. The phone rang three times then….movement.
The man’s left arm slowly inched it’s way towards his left jean pockets. His trembling hand crept its way into the pocket and withdrew the cell phone just in time to hear it ring a fourth time. The man used his thumb to flip the front of the cell phone open, causing it to auto-answer the call. The hand then slowly brought the phone up to the man’s ear, which just a minute ago was attached to a head that had been blown into hundreds of little pieces but was now a whole and healthy as if nothing had ever happened.
The man spoke into the phone with a low, gruff voice. The taste of gunpowder was still on his tongue.
Man: Yeah…
Voice on Phone: Vendetta Championship Wrestling.
The man sighed and listened to the dead air that passed through the phone’s earpiece. Finally he spoke.
Man: How long?
Voice: As long as necessary Cain, you know that.
Cain pulled the phone from his ear and snapped the phone shut. Cain shot up from his laying position quickly and threw the cell phone across the motel room. The phone hit the far wall and shattered. Cain sighed again, then took another drink from his comforting bottle of vodka.
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Post by Eric Ares on Jan 25, 2008 18:15:17 GMT -5
Hmm a slave that can have it's head blown off for amusement and be rendered unharmed.
I want one.
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Cain Ravid
Lower Midcarder
"Not so; if anyone kills Cain, he will suffer vengeance seven times over."
Posts: 106
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Post by Cain Ravid on Jan 26, 2008 7:33:26 GMT -5
Waggles his fingers in a come hither motion
If you want some...come get some. I have a few moments, might as well spend them sparring with the captain of the practice squad.
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Post by Eric Ares on Jan 26, 2008 11:32:48 GMT -5
Oh noes.
You insulted my wrestling ability while proving nothing about yourself.
Whatever shall I do....
...Besides not so politely decline.
See first off all I did not know there was a practice squad, as that would mean that to keep my greatness required even an ounce of effort on my part.
Second I have a Halo Player to pwn, own, rape, snipe, or whatever fun little words he wants to us for when I crush him.
Go blow something else off, it amuses me.
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Post by Mortus on Jan 26, 2008 17:52:22 GMT -5
We use the words 'Kill, Splatter, Snipe, Stuck, Beat Down, Assassinate and Lazer to describe kills on Halo you piss-ant-moose-fuck.
However, the only descriptive you'll be needing is 'Pinfall.'
As in, 'And the fucking-bad-ass-mother-fucking winner, via 'Pinfall,' John, DUUUUUUUNN!'
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Post by Eric Ares on Jan 26, 2008 18:30:20 GMT -5
You're a mother fucker? Can't get any hot young women peckless wonder? Your lack of sexual prowess aside, you have one small thing mistaken. Your stepping into my world gunny, not a digital one. And in that ring I have ever cheat code, every hack, every god mode there is. And when I am finally done with you, you are going to be left wishing there was a free 1-up around so you could die and not have to experience the pain anymore. But this is real life, and the defeat I am going to hand you is as real as it gets. VCW Wrestling High Score Eric Ares Everyone else
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Post by sickfixx on Jan 26, 2008 18:43:45 GMT -5
I'm here and I'm layin' down roots. I know who I am now. I am Sick Fixx. And I came to be redeemed.
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Post by Eric Ares on Jan 26, 2008 19:17:12 GMT -5
OOC: Welcome Fixx, been a while since I've seen you in an e-fed ring, good to have you back.
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Exodus
Lower Midcarder
A mystery wrapped within an enigma
Posts: 112
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Post by Exodus on Jan 26, 2008 22:08:04 GMT -5
I'm here and I'm layin' down roots. I know who I am now. I am Sick Fixx. And I came to be redeemed. Redeemed? Redeemed!? No one cares if you're looking for redemption, no one cares if you're searching for forgiveness! You claim to have turned to the Lord, God of all creation but haven't you heard the news? God is dead, He doesn't care about you anymore. He doesn't care about any of us anymore. When He willing casts out those closest to Him, you know His time is dwindling. God is dead, He died when He turned His back upon me; the Spirit who served Him for existences before this one even came to be! I watched human beings being fashioned from the clay of this new Earth only to be cast down to the wretched ground they sprang from! God is dead...but I will take His throne. You can bow before me now to go ahead and get in my graces and the graces of my Master.
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Post by Ro on Jan 26, 2008 22:26:04 GMT -5
Looks like somebody's been watching Rosemary's Baby one too many times.
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Post by kennithnoisewater on Jan 26, 2008 22:31:13 GMT -5
I think this guy needs some counseling. You should really get some help man.
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Exodus
Lower Midcarder
A mystery wrapped within an enigma
Posts: 112
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Post by Exodus on Jan 26, 2008 22:51:15 GMT -5
No one can help me, nothing can relieve my suffering at this point except for the reclamation of my spot in the Heavens above. If blood must be spilled on this mortal plane for me to confront the Fallen God of this world, so be it; I shall show pity to my victims when they stand before in judgment and not a day sooner.
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Post by kennithnoisewater on Jan 26, 2008 23:00:08 GMT -5
that doesnt even make sense.
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Exodus
Lower Midcarder
A mystery wrapped within an enigma
Posts: 112
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Post by Exodus on Jan 27, 2008 0:09:45 GMT -5
Does it not make sense or is your feeble mortal brain too weak to comprehend my rhetoric?
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Post by kennithnoisewater on Jan 27, 2008 0:10:42 GMT -5
"I shall show pity my victims when they stand before in judgment and not a day sooner."
That doesn't make sense
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Exodus
Lower Midcarder
A mystery wrapped within an enigma
Posts: 112
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Post by Exodus on Jan 27, 2008 0:12:37 GMT -5
OOC: Damn typos. Good call my adversary, lol.
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Post by Ro on Jan 27, 2008 0:15:02 GMT -5
Yes, it does, moron.
Anyway, Mr. Exodus, you say that God is dead, I say he was never alive to die in the first place. The illusion of a wonderful afterlife is only imagined by those who desperately seek attention, those who want their actions to count on some divine scoreboard they can lay some claim on and brag about.
And if there really was a God... he'd cure me of this greatly inhuman pain.
OOC: It made sense to me... now I'm really dyslexic, lol.
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Post by Eric Ares on Jan 27, 2008 0:29:01 GMT -5
There must be a god.
I think of him kind of like a toy maker, with all you defective toys here to amuse me.
Dance puppets, dance.
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