Post by Icon Lord Leon Corbin on Jan 24, 2015 16:14:45 GMT -6
It had been a few weeks since Aftermath had gone off the air and indeed since he had suffered something of an injury at the hands of the Intercontinental champion after their match to crown a new World champion. That injury was not something the new champion was going to reveal in any detail but the fact he was prepared to stand topless with his torso wrapped in bandages was a clear indication he didn’t care if anyone saw it as a weakness or not. But there he was, in a room set up just for this kind of affair in his wife’s overly large property in the North of England.
For once he allowed his setting to dazzle instead of the purposely dressed down surroundings he was known for, left the way his fellow Icon and Lord of the Coliseum liked it and that was fine by him. He wasn’t there for the theatrics and adorned backdrops, just to connect with those who’d be watching. A centimetre long beard covered his face and his hair was growing out at the same length. His body covered by bandages in the centre and his stretch jeans and New Rock boots below until his hand brought into view the most coveted prize in the industry. Holding out the GZW World title for all to see, he slowly hoists it up and lets it rest upon his shoulders, the name plate confirming him the rightful champion.
Icon Corbin: Surprised?
His brows arched highly and then dropped again, a smile forming from behind his beard as he places a hand on the leather to keep the belt firmly on his shoulder.
Icon Corbin: Yeah, I bet you all are. I reckon you were all hoping one little Alex Cross had put me down for good and I’m sure it even looked that way for a while but it’s going to take a lot more than the childish outburst of a sore loser to remove me from a throne that I was born for and a company that needs me now more than ever. So I very loosely apologise, as I’m not actually sorry whatsoever, that the vultures of GZW are going to starve for a long time yet.
And you know, I look back and it’s not the first time I didn’t get to celebrate a major victory for some bastard to step in and try to ruin it for me. Like it’s a runner up, consolation prize. “Shit, I couldn’t beat Leon for the big prize so I think I’ll twat him to make myself feel better.” Anything to try and piss on my parade but it’s alright because when all is said and done, it’s me standing here as the company’s top man, their poster boy, the man that has every fucking big wig breathing a sigh of relief after a tough few months with the future of this belt so uncertain. It’s still me that gets to have the lavish celebrations with none of you invited to spoil it. It’s still me who proved to the world that I was the best man on the night. But proving?
He lowers his head, clearly in brief thought before he lets his gaze fall back on the camera.
Icon Corbin: In reality, any true God doesn’t need to prove to anyone he is what he says he is. He just is. And that’s the difference between me and almost everyone one else to have ever stepped foot in a wrestling ring. While you keep trying, if you can be bothered…I just am. While you all have to step out of your comfort zone, I am very much in my element. Even now, when the world thinks I am on the wrong side of Alex Cross, trust me, I am still holding the better hand. And in spite of what people think of my father, it’s me who is the glass ceiling that men like Alex Cross want to break through. I am still the man he wants to be and it will remain that way until I can no longer draw breath.
I am, though, aren’t I, Alex? You don’t have to answer. You don’t even have to admit it but deep down you know it to be true. The proof is in the pudding. Fuck, even shithead Samson mistakenly touted you as the new “Vicious” like it meant something.
The look of repulsion on his face was obvious, he was not impressed by any stretch of the imagination. He took pride in being unique so the thought of anyone even passing on his own moniker was just a downright insult. But his mood seems to shift, bringing with it a curl of the lip as he glares through lens with that trademark Corbin shark-like stare.
Icon Corbin: I bet that made you feel good when you played the show back, ay? Midway through the night, you manhandle one of the company’s most influential Ring of Honor Icons and then thought you could do the same to another, like you’re some kind of legend killing machine, snarling and foaming at the mouth. But it’s all child’s play, Alex. See, I know this is an act. It’s an act just like all the others of yours and really, you are struggling to find a place to fit in, an identity you can identify with, much like any other confused teenager who merely soul searches on the surface and goes from pillar to post with the hopes something will define him on the way so he can settle into the image that is easiest for him. But this isn’t high school and I am not one of your peers who will merely mock you for trying to be different. I am actually your superior and I will beat you to the point your mother can’t bear to look at you. You are trying to cross boundaries and I just don’t think you want that.
He actually seems amused, letting out a chortle if only for a moment before he gets serious again. A shift of the title that had slipped slightly and he steps off to the side and back again. A short pace.
Icon Corbin: A joke, isn’t it? I mean, you want to be MY villain, MY bad guy? Like I am some kind of helpless damsel waiting to be saved, always going to just scrape through with the little offence at my disposal because the good guys have nothing in their arsenal to overturn the evil? Alex…
Alex, I implore you to turn back. Turn back and never look back because I promise you, this is not who you are. You are not cut out to be the man you want the world to see you as right now. You don’t even know what it means to travel this path if a few nasty outbursts is what makes you this bad man you are revelling in. The reality is there is no turning off the camera, no leaving the persona at the door and going home like nothing has happened. To be the man you want to be you need to go to some really dark and dingy places and do things that would compromise your integrity, things that would keep the righteous man up all night wracked with guilt. You need to go beyond the scope of wrestling itself and somehow, I get the impression that you would not be able to live with yourself, you’d not be able to sleep at all at night. But then how far are you really willing to go? Let me tell you, Alex. Having a wife, having children…it’s tamed me. I won't lie. But only to a point. I am not a pushover but a slumbering beast looking to maul you if you dare try to take it there. You push me hard enough, I don’t push back. I bite savagely until I draw blood and open flesh and I don’t care who gets caught up in the fray so before you think to challenge me on that level, just consider what you’ve said.
Do you have anything to lose? Do you really? If not, then feel free come at me and I will tear you down where you stand but if you do, bear in mind, I don’t have to touch you to hurt you, and I don’t care who I have to hurt to get to you. If you truly want to be vicious, truly want my attention, TRULY want to tread this path just remember I have been walking it a long time and will ALWAYS be ahead of you. But by all means, come along. It’s a fucking lonely place to be and I’d love the company.
He winks at the camera as if Alex Cross was standing right in front of him, then pauses for a moment before he continues.
Icon Corbin: As for company, I feel I need to touch upon the ramblings of John Champa and the Grand Slam club and…what the fuck are you on, John? You do realise that TWO others have already done what you think no one before you was going to try and achieve at Aftermath. Okay, so forget Sean Locke, an easy thing to do I know, but my track record pisses all over yours to the point I have put your fire out and I most DEFINITELY have not only achieved the Grand Slam in ANY carnation of its rules but done so deservingly to boot. Is Piper beating you at every corner so daunting that it’s warping your sense of reality more than usual? Do you not want to face the real world where you’re as much of a failure as that bitch Davina you followed like an obedient little puppy? Looks like her ability to forge reality the way she wanted it to be has rubbed off on you, John. I wonder if her penchant for drink, drugs and old man cock has as well.
He lets out a hearty cackle, genuinely amused and even letting it have its way until it dies down, leaving an arrogant, and probably irritating, pearly white grin.
Icon Corbin: Okay seriously, it’s time to wake up, John. There are no Grand Slams and most definitely no Triple Crowns. You’re not even worthy enough for that carrot to be dangled in front of you let alone achieve the damned near impossible and no amount of illicit substances will change that. The whole grandeur thing you do? Apart from it being in your mind, your eyes only, it’s also old news. I wouldn’t even line a cat’s fucking litter box with it, “Big Shot”. You’re lost, clinging on to glory that has long passed by and before you can even think to volley those words back at me, take a good look here…
He swiftly slips the World title from his shoulder and dangles it close to the camera so it can be seen in high definition in all its glory, eventually replacing it again.
Icon Corbin: Heh…but it’s not you looking to challenge me right now and at this rate, I wouldn’t be surprised if you followed ‘Vina once again and fell right off map like she has, wallowing as your biggest fear becomes reality, the fact that both of you, for all your magnification, are just…irrelevant.
But I am looking for a challenge and while I know Alex Cross is thinking it will be his God given right to take me on for this title while he neglects his own, this God says otherwise and instead looks to a man who thinks he knows all about God, in spite of the fact he’s never fucking seen one until he met me.
After a shake of the head he cocks it, looking down his nose, brows dipped that it crinkles his forehead.
Icon Corbin: Damien, you step onto my path and even try to antagonise me in passing with your holier than thou bullshit but this isn’t church and your sermons and dirty second hand words have no value in this world. What you’ve done is simply piss me off in the hopes it will give you your free pass to the top tier of this company. Well, lucky you, I’m in a giving mood so at the next show, you will get a taste of why I am the upper echelon of this company and people like you usually fall to the wayside and look to faith to keep your spirits up, condemning others for losing their soul but trust me, Godboy lite, I would rather lose my soul opposed to selling it to a non-entity all because you are shit scared of what comes after you cease to be. Well, just like always, the world still turns, Damien and it will turn without you once I dispose of you and end this nipping at my ankles you’re doing right now. That being said, my first defence will be against you and it will be a good time to pray to every fucking God you can just to get out of it alive because I’M your Lord from here on in, now fuck off!
With that, he moves forward, the title becomes all that can be seen as he leans in to cut the feed.
For once he allowed his setting to dazzle instead of the purposely dressed down surroundings he was known for, left the way his fellow Icon and Lord of the Coliseum liked it and that was fine by him. He wasn’t there for the theatrics and adorned backdrops, just to connect with those who’d be watching. A centimetre long beard covered his face and his hair was growing out at the same length. His body covered by bandages in the centre and his stretch jeans and New Rock boots below until his hand brought into view the most coveted prize in the industry. Holding out the GZW World title for all to see, he slowly hoists it up and lets it rest upon his shoulders, the name plate confirming him the rightful champion.
Icon Corbin: Surprised?
His brows arched highly and then dropped again, a smile forming from behind his beard as he places a hand on the leather to keep the belt firmly on his shoulder.
Icon Corbin: Yeah, I bet you all are. I reckon you were all hoping one little Alex Cross had put me down for good and I’m sure it even looked that way for a while but it’s going to take a lot more than the childish outburst of a sore loser to remove me from a throne that I was born for and a company that needs me now more than ever. So I very loosely apologise, as I’m not actually sorry whatsoever, that the vultures of GZW are going to starve for a long time yet.
And you know, I look back and it’s not the first time I didn’t get to celebrate a major victory for some bastard to step in and try to ruin it for me. Like it’s a runner up, consolation prize. “Shit, I couldn’t beat Leon for the big prize so I think I’ll twat him to make myself feel better.” Anything to try and piss on my parade but it’s alright because when all is said and done, it’s me standing here as the company’s top man, their poster boy, the man that has every fucking big wig breathing a sigh of relief after a tough few months with the future of this belt so uncertain. It’s still me that gets to have the lavish celebrations with none of you invited to spoil it. It’s still me who proved to the world that I was the best man on the night. But proving?
He lowers his head, clearly in brief thought before he lets his gaze fall back on the camera.
Icon Corbin: In reality, any true God doesn’t need to prove to anyone he is what he says he is. He just is. And that’s the difference between me and almost everyone one else to have ever stepped foot in a wrestling ring. While you keep trying, if you can be bothered…I just am. While you all have to step out of your comfort zone, I am very much in my element. Even now, when the world thinks I am on the wrong side of Alex Cross, trust me, I am still holding the better hand. And in spite of what people think of my father, it’s me who is the glass ceiling that men like Alex Cross want to break through. I am still the man he wants to be and it will remain that way until I can no longer draw breath.
I am, though, aren’t I, Alex? You don’t have to answer. You don’t even have to admit it but deep down you know it to be true. The proof is in the pudding. Fuck, even shithead Samson mistakenly touted you as the new “Vicious” like it meant something.
The look of repulsion on his face was obvious, he was not impressed by any stretch of the imagination. He took pride in being unique so the thought of anyone even passing on his own moniker was just a downright insult. But his mood seems to shift, bringing with it a curl of the lip as he glares through lens with that trademark Corbin shark-like stare.
Icon Corbin: I bet that made you feel good when you played the show back, ay? Midway through the night, you manhandle one of the company’s most influential Ring of Honor Icons and then thought you could do the same to another, like you’re some kind of legend killing machine, snarling and foaming at the mouth. But it’s all child’s play, Alex. See, I know this is an act. It’s an act just like all the others of yours and really, you are struggling to find a place to fit in, an identity you can identify with, much like any other confused teenager who merely soul searches on the surface and goes from pillar to post with the hopes something will define him on the way so he can settle into the image that is easiest for him. But this isn’t high school and I am not one of your peers who will merely mock you for trying to be different. I am actually your superior and I will beat you to the point your mother can’t bear to look at you. You are trying to cross boundaries and I just don’t think you want that.
He actually seems amused, letting out a chortle if only for a moment before he gets serious again. A shift of the title that had slipped slightly and he steps off to the side and back again. A short pace.
Icon Corbin: A joke, isn’t it? I mean, you want to be MY villain, MY bad guy? Like I am some kind of helpless damsel waiting to be saved, always going to just scrape through with the little offence at my disposal because the good guys have nothing in their arsenal to overturn the evil? Alex…
Alex, I implore you to turn back. Turn back and never look back because I promise you, this is not who you are. You are not cut out to be the man you want the world to see you as right now. You don’t even know what it means to travel this path if a few nasty outbursts is what makes you this bad man you are revelling in. The reality is there is no turning off the camera, no leaving the persona at the door and going home like nothing has happened. To be the man you want to be you need to go to some really dark and dingy places and do things that would compromise your integrity, things that would keep the righteous man up all night wracked with guilt. You need to go beyond the scope of wrestling itself and somehow, I get the impression that you would not be able to live with yourself, you’d not be able to sleep at all at night. But then how far are you really willing to go? Let me tell you, Alex. Having a wife, having children…it’s tamed me. I won't lie. But only to a point. I am not a pushover but a slumbering beast looking to maul you if you dare try to take it there. You push me hard enough, I don’t push back. I bite savagely until I draw blood and open flesh and I don’t care who gets caught up in the fray so before you think to challenge me on that level, just consider what you’ve said.
Do you have anything to lose? Do you really? If not, then feel free come at me and I will tear you down where you stand but if you do, bear in mind, I don’t have to touch you to hurt you, and I don’t care who I have to hurt to get to you. If you truly want to be vicious, truly want my attention, TRULY want to tread this path just remember I have been walking it a long time and will ALWAYS be ahead of you. But by all means, come along. It’s a fucking lonely place to be and I’d love the company.
He winks at the camera as if Alex Cross was standing right in front of him, then pauses for a moment before he continues.
Icon Corbin: As for company, I feel I need to touch upon the ramblings of John Champa and the Grand Slam club and…what the fuck are you on, John? You do realise that TWO others have already done what you think no one before you was going to try and achieve at Aftermath. Okay, so forget Sean Locke, an easy thing to do I know, but my track record pisses all over yours to the point I have put your fire out and I most DEFINITELY have not only achieved the Grand Slam in ANY carnation of its rules but done so deservingly to boot. Is Piper beating you at every corner so daunting that it’s warping your sense of reality more than usual? Do you not want to face the real world where you’re as much of a failure as that bitch Davina you followed like an obedient little puppy? Looks like her ability to forge reality the way she wanted it to be has rubbed off on you, John. I wonder if her penchant for drink, drugs and old man cock has as well.
He lets out a hearty cackle, genuinely amused and even letting it have its way until it dies down, leaving an arrogant, and probably irritating, pearly white grin.
Icon Corbin: Okay seriously, it’s time to wake up, John. There are no Grand Slams and most definitely no Triple Crowns. You’re not even worthy enough for that carrot to be dangled in front of you let alone achieve the damned near impossible and no amount of illicit substances will change that. The whole grandeur thing you do? Apart from it being in your mind, your eyes only, it’s also old news. I wouldn’t even line a cat’s fucking litter box with it, “Big Shot”. You’re lost, clinging on to glory that has long passed by and before you can even think to volley those words back at me, take a good look here…
He swiftly slips the World title from his shoulder and dangles it close to the camera so it can be seen in high definition in all its glory, eventually replacing it again.
Icon Corbin: Heh…but it’s not you looking to challenge me right now and at this rate, I wouldn’t be surprised if you followed ‘Vina once again and fell right off map like she has, wallowing as your biggest fear becomes reality, the fact that both of you, for all your magnification, are just…irrelevant.
But I am looking for a challenge and while I know Alex Cross is thinking it will be his God given right to take me on for this title while he neglects his own, this God says otherwise and instead looks to a man who thinks he knows all about God, in spite of the fact he’s never fucking seen one until he met me.
After a shake of the head he cocks it, looking down his nose, brows dipped that it crinkles his forehead.
Icon Corbin: Damien, you step onto my path and even try to antagonise me in passing with your holier than thou bullshit but this isn’t church and your sermons and dirty second hand words have no value in this world. What you’ve done is simply piss me off in the hopes it will give you your free pass to the top tier of this company. Well, lucky you, I’m in a giving mood so at the next show, you will get a taste of why I am the upper echelon of this company and people like you usually fall to the wayside and look to faith to keep your spirits up, condemning others for losing their soul but trust me, Godboy lite, I would rather lose my soul opposed to selling it to a non-entity all because you are shit scared of what comes after you cease to be. Well, just like always, the world still turns, Damien and it will turn without you once I dispose of you and end this nipping at my ankles you’re doing right now. That being said, my first defence will be against you and it will be a good time to pray to every fucking God you can just to get out of it alive because I’M your Lord from here on in, now fuck off!
With that, he moves forward, the title becomes all that can be seen as he leans in to cut the feed.
