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 Mission Statement

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Blaze



Posts : 7
Join date : 2017-04-14

PostSubject: Mission Statement   Wed May 31, 2017 11:53 am

A maniacal laughter begins the scene. As we fade in, we see Bryan Blaze seated in the back of a limousine. As usual, he is dressed in a fine Armani suit complimented by a dark burgundy tie. As he peels off his Crimson red sunglasses, we get a glimpse into the eyes of a madman.

In his first night in XHW, Blaze certainly made his presence felt. Not only did he secure the victory for his team in one of the “Special Opportunity” Trios matches, but he also shocked everyone when he viciously assaulted XHW fan favourite, Wulf Erikson. No doubt both of these incidents factored into the sick smile that currently occupied his facial features.

He reaches in front of him, grabbing hold of a glass of whiskey off of a tray. He swallows a mouthful before resting back on the tray. He sighs contently.


“I told you all. You thought I was just blowing smoke. Just another new face trying to make a name for themselves. Promising the world and then falling flat. That by now I would be making excuses for my failure. That didn't happen though, did it?”

As he leans back, a devilish smirk wipes across his face.

“I rallied my team together. Three people who had previously never even spoken to one another became a well oiled machine. My two partners bought into what I've been saying, and, at least for our pursuit of this “Special Opportunity”, they agree with my mission. We will win this week as well because we can see clearly. We aren't blinded by our own delusions of grandeur.”

He reaches for his whiskey glass again when something seemingly clicks in his mind. As if he just remembered something that he had momentarily forgot about.

“And of course, there is Wulf Erikson.”

Again, that devilish smirk makes an appearance. It's crystal clear that he enjoyed every moment of his attack on Wulf. He certainly doesn't feel an ounce of remorse for he did on Fallout. In fact, it is more than likely what is responsible for the fantastic mood he has been in since that night.

“Wulf Erikson...the little engine that could, am I right? The...and I use this term loosely, ‘man’...that the XHW fans cheer so loudly and support so loyally. Do they have any idea what they are cheering for?

Because I do. I know all too well. It's not that they are cheering for the “good guy”. They are cheering for the downfall of professional wrestling. They are cheering for showmanship instead of substance. I mean, who are they all kidding? Wulf doesn't give a damn what they think. They are an ends to a means. If they believe anything more, than they are blind fools.”


Finally, he does reach for the whiskey glass. After a mouthful, he leans back, seemingly content.

“It's like I said before. It's all smoke and mirrors; it's all misdirection. So many of you believe exactly what they want you to believe. Hell, even now, you are rolling your eyes at this very speech. You're calling me disillusioned and egomaniacal. Despite doing precisely what I said I would do on Fallout, all the sheep doubt me. They refuse to buy into my reality.

However, the sad fact is that my reality isn't an alternate one. I attempt to remove your blinders. Free you of your tunnel vision. The frustrating OTY is that refuse to allow me. You would rather look to someone like Wulf Erikson and have your confirmation bias restored. You look at him and then you hear my words and you shake your head and you chuckle. You say to yourself and your like-minded friends that I'm insane. That I'm speaking of conspiracy theories and little else. That in time I will lose momentum and fade away like so many that have come before me.”


Finishing the glass of whiskey, Blaze shakes his head.

“I hate to burst your bubble, but that isn't going to happen. Why? Well, it's actually really simple. It's because this isn't some fantasy world that I'm living in where everyone gets along and everyone tells the truth. It's not where true motives are transparent and where alternative motives do not exist. I live in the real world. None of you wish to accept that. You want to believe that Wulf Erikson is the good guy and Bryan Blaze is the bad guy and that's why Wulf will stand on top in the end.

Don't get me wrong, it's a fantastic fairytale. A story as old as time itself.

But that's all it is. A story. A fairytale. Nothing more.

Do you want to know why?

For as much as you want to cheer people like Wulf Erikson...you become blind. Your cognitive dissonance allows you to cheer them no matter what asinine thing they do or say. You afford them the luxury of not having to stand for anything. They don't have to be about anything. They don't have to even try. It doesn't even matter.”


Blaze looks down, feigning a sense of mourning.

“It doesn't have to be like that. That's what I've been trying to say. I may be vilified now, but in time, everyone will realize I was right all along. My cause will gain traction and I will be given the proper recognition. For now, I'll have to try and show you the truth. That truth is that no matter how much you attempt to believe Wulf Erikson is so much more than I say he is, you will always be wrong.

Wulf Erikson and anyone like him are a joke.

They seek to only take from this sport. They can pretend for so long that they care so deeply about the fans and that's why they do it and blah blah blah.

It's all smoke and mirrors. It's not real. He has you all fooled. Thinking he is some sort of champion of the people. That he can take this company in his back and elevate it.”


He shakes his head slowly. He demeanour becomes much darker.

“Spoiler alert: he can't. Wulf can only hurt it, not help. He is a prankster. A joke. A shell of a pro wrestler. What people need to hold on to is not some “vanilla midget”. What people can believe in, truly believe in, is staring them right in the face.

Bryan fucking Blaze.

They can boo me, and they can hate me. But the truth never goes away. Reality never goes away. Eventually, everyone will see my vision. They will see I was exactly right. I will save professional wrestling from the frauds that seek to ruin it and turn it into something laughable and pathetic.

In this kingdom, Wulf Erikson is nothing more than a jester, while I am the true white knight.”


A text message ping is heard. Blaze reaches into his breast pocket.


Heather

Please call me. It doesn't have to be like this.


Blaze looks disgusted at the phone. The limousine suddenly stops and the door opens to the long slender legs of Jessica Crane.


“Let's go.” She instructs to Blaze. He simply nods, and steps out. As he removes his sunglasses from his face, he is greeted with the sight of an arena, from which a large banner with his name and face are centre-stage.

“Another press conference.” He says flatly.

“Of course.” Jessica declares. It's no secret that the press conference was her doing. It was her favourite thing to plan for her client. Blaze shrugged it off. He was quite used to the routine by now. Frankly, he wasn't so sure he even needed Jessica around anymore, but had become attached. It was familiar. For now, familiar was good.

Blaze walked down a long corridor, and was about to set foot through a final door, which would lead to a stage, no doubt.


“Stop here.” Jessica commanded. “Let me do my opening first, okay?”

Blaze nodded. “Of course.” He responded, again, flatly.

Jessica waltzed through the door to the bright lights and the camera flashes. She proudly stood on the stage as her name and title were announced. The crowd applauded. Jessica was clearly doing something right, she noticed that each and every one of these press conferences her and Blaze conducted was bigger than the last. There seemed to always be a slightly larger crowd.


“Thank you all for that warm welcome, and thank you all for being in attendance with us this evening. As I'm sure you all know, my name is Jessica Crane. I represent one of the premier rising stars in all of wrestling. None other than Bryan Blaze.”

Light applause. Slightly louder boos. They may have come to here Jessica and Blaze speak, but that doesn't necessarily mean they are happy to hear what they are going to say.

“Haha.

Indeed, Bryan is a polarizing figure in the sport. I can fully understand that. What I hope you all can try and understand is Bryan is truly trying to stand for something worthwhile. He intends fully on being a revolutionary figure. An innovator. A pioneer. He is a man that has captivated his trios team and lead them to victory last week, and will do the same this week, as well.

As usual, I certainly cannot do his message justice like the man himself can. So...without further ado...may I present to you, the revolutionary...the innovative...Bryan Blaze!”


Again, small applause and slightly louder boos echo throughout the room as Bryan Blaze steps through a curtain and up to the podium. He pauses as a lot of chatter seems to be happening in the front row. Blaze doesn't look pleased at all.

“I told everyone.”

It's a simple statement, yet it invokes a lot of questions. Many of which are thrown Blaze’s way. He simply repeats himself.

“I told everyone.”

He looks tired.

“There needs to be a change.

It wasn't a slogan or a moniker. It was the honest truth. There is so much currently wrong with this sport, and I intend to fix it. Let's start with Wulf Erikson and Bad Moon Rising.”


A smirk. He can't help but fondly remember the attack on Erikson from the last episode of Fallout.

“I told you all, that there needed to be a change. That there was a lot of work to be done to ‘save’ wrestling. That the frauds needed to be dealt with. Well, on Fallout, I dealt with one of them.

Wulf Erikson.”


He pauses, allowing that message to sink in.

“It's all a show. Everything he does, everything he says. It's all fabrication. I'm sure he will deny this as is his nature and the nature of his kind. That's fine, I'm prepared for that situation. I'm prepared to deal with his urge for revenge. I'm prepared for BMR’s quest to help him achieve it. The simple fact is that these urges will go unfulfilled. Wulf will not get his revenge. He will not escape this. I won't allow him to make any sort of a name off of me. I won't allow him to claim whatever this “Special Opportunity” is. He doesn't deserve it. All he deserves is pain. Loss. Frustration.

Annihilation.”


That last word, in particular, sparked a murmur throughout the crowd in attendance. This caused Blaze to smile once again.

“That's enough about Wulf Erikson and his fraudulent clan. There is a third team in this final Trios match, and I would be a fool to not recognize that fact.

Neilson. Angel. Fenix.

The other three variables in this equation.

I will submit that they no doubt deserve their spot in this match. Unfortunately, their future is much similar to Bad Moon Rising. They will run into me and my team. The team that can see clearly, for what this all is. The team that will begin the transition into the golden era of this sport.

I'm not going to stand here before you and talk at length about why that's going to happen, it's much better if you all just witness it first hand. On Fallout, it will merely be one step in the right direction. One more win for what is right and just.

You don't need to consider me a martyr, or a god. I don't ask that of you. What I do ask is that you accept my mission and my cause. I won't be going anywhere.

Thank you for your time.”


Blaze nods, and leaves the podium. Jessica follows as the crowd applauds lightly.

Backstage, Blaze is quick to get on his cellphone. He was calling Akasha, and his message was simple for her, as well.


“I'm coming back to the hotel.”
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