Challenging Saint(O2Wallace, then Saint)

[Guest]

Well, the time had come. The first ppv of the GCW season was arriving very soon. Zero had done as much preperation as he could possibly do. All he had to do now, was to make this official. There was just one thing. How does he make it official? Does he go to Amanda Wallace? Does he just walk up to him and challenge him? He wasn't really sure. He had not done this Wrestling thing before so he had no clue of how to do it. All he knew, was how to fight. The glitz and glamour he had no idea about. Would he like it? How would it affect him? He wasn't sure.

He decided to go to one person that he figured would know. Amanda Wallace. She seemed to point people in the right direction. She had with Zero before and he was sure that she would again. So off to her office he went.

It wasn't long before he arrived at her office. Wasting no time in knocking, he did so and waited for her response.

[/i][/center]

[Amanda Wallace]

"Come in."

[Guest]

Zero opens the door and enters the office. He closes the door behind him and takes a seat in front of Amanda's desk. He smiled under his mask, but it was hard to tell if we was smiling or not. Any real clue was through his eye that had not been burned.

[/i]

Good Evening Ms. Wallace. I thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule for me. As you can see, I am back and everything has been quite splendid so far. Now, I should let you know that this entire Wrestling business is rather new to me. Aside from fighting in a ring, I really don't know what else I'm to do. A while ago, Saint had challenged me to a match at Exodus. So now that the time is coming close, I'm curious as to how to go about this. Do I come to you to get the match official, or do I go out to the ring where the crowd is? I'm really clueless as to what to do with this and I'd appreciate any advice you could give me.[/center]

[Amanda Wallace]

"Go to the ring like everybody else is? We've got a convention going on right now, rings wide open and screaming fans are out there."

[Guest]

Ah, I see. I thank you for the help. Not having been part of the Wrestling business, I wanted to be sure so then I wouldn't end up making myself look like a fool. Once again, I thank you for your time.

Zero got up from the chair and nodded to Amanda and left her office quickly. He did not want to take up anymore of her time.

Now, it was time to take care of business. Peter Saint, having been extremely rude and insulting to Zero was in need of some pay back. And Zero would be glad to be the one that would give that to him. Zero lets a lot of things slide. One of the things that he does not let slide, was being disrespected. Things that Zero would say rushed through his mind. He had never been in front of a live crowd before. So, the feeling of nervousness was in his stomach. Everyone felt that though when they went for their first time. Zero's mike skills would be bad to be sure, or maybe not as bad as some others. Only he would be the true judge.

Zero finally arrived at the arena section of the GCW building. Seeing the curtain, he simply walked through. He didn't know that he was supposed to notify the people in the back to start his music. So, he was coming out to the ring with no music. That didn't matter to him though. What mattered, was getting down to business. Zero wasted no time in making his way to the ring. Once he was in the ring, he realized that he would need something to project his voice. So, he walked over to the side of the ring and asked for something to speak in. He was handed a microphone. He took it and looked at it for a minute. Shrugging his shoulders, he walked back to the center of the ring. He brought the mike up to his mouth and began to speak.

[/i]

Hello ladies and gentlemen of the GCW world. You all do not know who I am, but you will very soon. My name that I go by, is Zero Signal. Does the name have any significance? It may have some, down the road. Right now though, it is simply just a name that I go by. This is my first time ever, being in a wrestling ring. I stand before you as a true, blue, brand new person to the wrestling business. I'm sure you all will see me make mistakes. I'm perfectly fine with that. But enough of this for the time being. Let's get on to business at hand.

I joined GCW for one thing. To fight. I am a fighter and a survivor. Three months ago, I was involved in an explosion that left me with no memory of my past. To my knowledge, I have no family or no friends. So for the last three months, I have been scrounging and clawing my way to survive. Going from temporary living conditions to very little money to get me by. Then, when I saw an add for GXW, I came to Chicago. I, however, mistook it for GCW and came when it was still closed. So I waited a week, then the doors were open.

Of course, I'm sure you don't want to hear me continue on about my life. At least, not at this point. But now that I feel that you know more about me, I can continue on with why I'm here. You see, a few weeks ago, a man by the name of Peter Saint, said some things that hit rather close to home. Now, I don't appreciate being disrespected, in any fashion. He challenged me to a fight once GCW opened. So, I am out here to make this fight official. So Peter Saint, please come on down so we can make this official.[/center]

[saint]

The scene opens.

Peter Saint is standing, his eyes peak through the arch and onto the aisle. The view is beautiful, every single face in the crowd smiles and cheers wildly, allowing themselves to be lost within the spectacle. Saint clutches his hands tighter, for the first time in years, his bright yellow attire is draped against his body. A smirk crosses Peter Saint's face, his eyes showing insight to the man, he was ecstatic, knowing his chance had finally returned. His chance to bask in the limelight.

He looks towards the ring, Zero Signal stands there, talking. Talking about him. He wanted to storm out onto the ring now, he wanted to fight him right now, but he knew he had to contain rage and handle this with tact; it was the only way he could truly make an impact. Appear charismatic and composed, but fight as if you're a wild animal, backed against a corner. It was a good plan. Saint would bend down and pick up a small black microphone from the floor, stare at it, blow in it once and sheen the base with his hand. Nothing would go wrong, tonight. This was Peter Saint's night.

Zero Signal's challenge had been laid and his voice had stopped, Peter Saint would close his eyes, count to three and say a quick prayer to a God he knew wasn't listening.

'Now, your heroes have fallen.'

Parkway Drive's "Idols and Anchors" would burst out over the speakers, signifying Peter Saint's return to the world of wrestling. The crowd didn't know how to react, as he walked out onto the stage, a small pop could be heard from people old enough to recognize the man that stood before them. A smirk would cross Peter Saint's face as he moved onto the aisle, he loved a chance to win an unfamiliar crowd over, and the chance had presented itself once more.

Arriving at the halfway point of the aisle, Saint would stop, his gaze moving up towards the ring, bringing the microphone to his mouth, Peter Saint would begin:

Saint: 'And it appears we've finally gotten a chance to formally meet in this ring, and what sort of man would I be to simply stand back and deny your challenge? I would be a coward, a man who lacks the courage to confront that which scares him most, whether it be a challenge in the ring, or his own past.'

An all knowing smirk would cross Saint's face.

Saint: 'Of course you wouldn't know anything about that, would you? After all, you only forgot, it wasn't your fault you discarded the memories of your past in that fashion, it was the physical torment which you undertook that forced it. Or. Maybe you were scared, maybe, like a lost child confronted with an unfamiliar environment, you simply cowered and refused to remember, maybe there was an event in your past which warranted such shame and such feelings of resentment that you forced yourself to forget.'

Saint would take two steps forward.

Saint: 'But what does this matter to the people who stand before us? You may be conceited enough to believe that the people in front of you 'care' and they want to 'help' you, but really, that's not true at all, all the crowd want is to see you beaten down. You've forced them to sit through this one-manned sob story that even lacks a resolution, you could've come up with something, anything to give it an ending, just something to make the crowd believe you didn't waste their wasted time. If I may quote a man far more emotional than myself, "this is your life and it's ending one moment at a time," you stole several precious moments from the people who stand before us and I promise you, they shall not forgive, or forget, as quickly as you have.'

Saint's smirk would subside and he would walk forward again, beginning to circle the ring.

Saint: 'Unlike yourself, I don't come to the people here with a story, merely, with a name. For those of you who care enough, my name is Peter Saint, I had originally come as a way to regain relevance within the world, I then came as a way to fight, but now, I'm here to ensure that every single man and woman out there doesn't become the portrait of arrogance that the man in the ring has so quickly become.'

Saint slides into the ring, coming face to face with Zero Signal.

Saint: 'As I said before, I accept your challenge, and I promise you that no matter how much you feel you need to win, or how much you think you will win, you won't. You won't win, not because you lack strength, not because you lack speed, but simply because, everything you have within your body, every fibre within your being, simply cannot compare to myself. I am a man not plagued with conceited dreams, not plagued with arrogance, not plagued with any of the flaws you bask yourself in. I am here for the sole reason of showing you the true way of the world, and your place in it...'

Saint's smirk would return.

[Guest]

And yet, here you stand, basking in your own arrogance. All I have done, is given the people that will be watching me dole out the punishment to you a possible reason to care. If they decide to care, great. If not, then oh well. I am not the one that is making mistakes, or trying to grasp at straws. I do not have conceited dreams. The only dream that I have, is the ability to be able to return my memory to my mind so that I can fetch my lost identity. Whether it'd be good or bad. It could come back tomorrow, or it could come back five years from now. Make no mistake, no matter how long it takes, it will be a quest that I am adventuring on until I complete it. fighting in front of these people gives me another reason to continue on. It will give me strength when I begin to wane. It will give me confidence when I start to lose hope. It will be my rock when I begin to crack.

But you want to talk about being plagued with arrogance. Then you should look in the mirrior. I cannot compare to you? That is arrogance. Arrogance is simply an a residue of confidence, when you have too much. And when you are arrogant, you will make mistakes. Make no mistake, I will not make any mistakes. To you, winning may be important. But do you know what is important to me? It's not winning, or losing. It's the fighting. The match itself. You could beat me every single day of the week, and I would come back for more. Come back for the fighting. You could break every bone in my body and I would find some way to come back. I won't deny that there are others that are better than me and I'm sure they will beat me. So long as I give them a tough fight, then THAT is what is important to me.

So, if you believe that you can beat me, go ahead and prove it. And if you do win, then congradulations. Like I said, winning is not important to me. Sure, it will be nice when it happens, but that's not what I am basing this match, or any of my matches under. It is what happens in the match that counts. You may think different, and that's fine by me. We all have our different goals.

Make no mistake. I will bring the fight to you. Win or lose, the fight will be brought. That, I can guarantee you.

[saint]

Saint: 'But that's not what you did, that's not what you did at all. When you stepped out here and went off upon your one man show regarding your little accident, you weren't fishing for anything other than sympathy, because, deep underneath that little masked exterior of yours is nothing more than this childlike need for attention, you just want people to look down at you and tell you that everything will be alright. You need a maternal figure and so you look for it within the audience, hoping that their cheers will fill in the blank hole within your heart and give you a reason to live.

You don't dream for a return to your identity, why would you? You're in a position where you're able to earn money and gain the sympathy you yearn for, all because you have no memory, why would you throw that away? This whole search for identity that you've undertaken is nothing but misdirection, while you're whining and pleading for an end to the darkness which you've befallen yourself in, you're able to earn money and gain cheap pops from an audience that doesn't know any better. You're nothing but a child, an infant with no sense or way within the world, cloaked behind an outfit and a false pretense. You sicken me.

And, like a child, you must act like one as well, it's even traceable in your way of speech, 'look in the mirror?' did I somehow lower myself to the spatial, and speech patterns of an eight-year-old child attempting to battle his detractors within the classroom? And then you come back with this second-attempt at grabbing some sympathy from the crowd with your 'underdog' monologue, you'll come back and keep fighting no matter how much you lose? That's more of a statement upon your lacking IQ than a statement on your unstopping will and drive, and once more, these comments aren't sincere and from the heart, they're nothing more than an attention getting device fooling the crowd but leaving me with little more than the taste of bile within the back of my throat.

Essentially, what you've told me is that winning doesn't matter to you, all you want is an end to your identity-crisis, if I were, for a minute, to indulge you and pretend this is the truth and I don't know any better, why would you bother? Why would you get out of bed every morning if you weren't going to dedicate every fibre in your being to fight harder and defeat those that confront you? You're going into the fight with a mentality of 'If I lose that's a-okay,' a mentality that will surely be your downfall. I don't even see why you would even bother within a company that bases itself on the idea of competition, something which you, apparently, don't care for.

You're absolutely nothing. You're not a wrestler. You're not a fighter. You're not a hero to the crowd. You're not sincere. You're nothing more than a masked man presenting nothing more than lies and veiled reasonings, all of which lack that extra oomph that would make them mean something. To simplify it for you, you're failing to pluck my heart strings and you're failing to give me reason to care.

As I said before, you're a child. Spare the rod, ruin the child. I won't make that mistake with you, Signal, you're an errant child who needs to be set upon his way, I shall provide the guidance you need.'

[Guest]

Are you trying to make me lose my temper and attack you before the match starts? You may have lured me to do that before, but I am not going to fall for your cheap antics again. And if you honestly believe every word that comes out of your mouth with everything that you have said, then between the two of us, you are the more clueless fool.

All I did with telling my story is give the audience a sense of an identity of who I am now. I'm not looking for sympathy. If it's anything that I am looking for, it's my past identity, which I've already told you that I am searching for. You don't believe it and that's fine. I don't need you to believe what I am searching for. And I'm sure every word that comes out of my mouth you won't believe anyways. So really, there isn't much more reason to carry on this conversation now is there? We could go on all day and not get anywhere. So I'm putting the ball in your court. You give me one good reason why I should stay out here when you obviously don't care about what I do or why I do things.

[saint]

Saint: 'Am I trying to lure you? You tell me, maybe I'm not trying to lure you at all but instead I'm seeking to kill you before you can even be concieved. Maybe, by me standing out here and showing every man, woman and child in the audience what you truly are, telling them to open their eyes and see you as nothing more than a simple-minded fool, out for nothing more than a quick cheer and a cheque to take home, I'm doing more damage to you than a punch or a kick ever could.

I'm driving a dagger straight into your soul and letting it bleed right out, Zero, and you know what I've been doing, ever since I first opened my mouth towards you, you knew what I was doing, even if it was only subconsciously, I've been destroying you from the inside out. Removing your veil of deceit and leaving you fragile and open to physical attack. You've proven your weakness, you've proven you're nothing to me, tonight.

Do you want one good reason why you should stay out here? Let me finish what I've started, on a grand scale, let me finish off what I've been doing since I landed in this city, let me embaress you, defeat you, destroy you and continue to show you for the fool you've become in front of these people you sought to impress so badly.

That's the only reason I can muster, at the moment, losing to me seems like the only reason you live.'

[Guest]

Veil of deceit? Are you truly blinded by your own self rightious convictions that you yourself cannot even see truth anymore? Exactly what am I trying to deceit these people into? A false sense of security to cheer for me? You think that I am here for one simple fight, then leave? Not even close. You are so far off base you couldn't even complete a home run. It could very well take months for my past memory to return to me. During that time, the money that I do make from the fights, will be going towards returning my memory. And if it does return to me, whether good or bad, I won't be stopping.

You see, it's people like you that also drive me. People that are ignorant, arrogant and too blinded by their own lies to know what the true reality is. I could go on and lecture you on what the true reality is, but I will wait for my memory to come back so that all that I have experienced in my life will have that much more of a profound affect. People like you, will never be able to face the true reality, whatever that may be. If it's one thing that I do know, the true reality is not the reality that you are living.

[saint]

Saint: 'Ah, and now we see your true flaws as a speaker coming out and confronting everyone in the arena, you, lacking in the ability to create your own argument, merely regurgitate things I've already said. I'm not blinded by lies, I have always presented myself as I am, I find it to be the definition of irony that a man who parades around in a mask can call someone else 'blinded by lies'. Then, you decide to concede the point, that like all of us are doing it for money, I thought you were doing it merely for the thrill of battle? Can you even keep your lies coherant? Obviously not. By now I'm sure you've proven the crowd your true intentions and your true personage, you've really just proven my points, you are a liar. You're willing to say anything to get a reaction.

And then you tell me I will never see 'true reality,' may I ask you, have you even listened to me during this entire exchange? All I've preached to you is for you to look around and realize that in this grand scheme, your little search for truth doesn't matter, and that is the truest reality that will ever confront you. You don't matter, nothing you've done matters, nothing you're going to do will ever matter. Your attempt to bring clarity to your life is one that will end in vein, as you will not find anything in your past that will add perspective to your future, or steady your present. All you will dig up is events and people that truly don't matter, and that is why I laugh so hard when I see you walking around, trying to find reality, as I know deep down inside that your entire quest is a waste of time.'

[Guest]

Zero, now truly pissed at Peter Saint cannot stand in this ring any longer. He throws the mike down and leaves the ring. He walks back up the ramp and disappears behind the curtain. He's not going to continue listening to the poison that spews forth from Peter's mouth. Zero knows what the truth is. He doesn't need to sit and listen on and on to someone who has a self righteous dildo shoved up their ass. Because that's all that Peter Saint is in Zero's mind now. A self righteous fucktard that doesn't have anything better to do than to fuck around with someone whose own identity is not known to them. OOH bra-fucking-vo. Are you happy? Are you proud? Does this make you feel big? Fucking prick. That's all Peter Saint was in Zero's mind. Nothing but a self righteous prick who has to pick on others with deficiencies because he cannot deal with his own demon chasing ass. Good FUCKING day!

[/b][/i]

[saint]

Peter Saint's grip would tighten as Zero Signal walks up the aisle. Saint knew there would be no confrontation, not now, but the night wasn't over for Peter Saint, his love for the microphone had reared it's ugly head once more and Saint wasn't going to leave this post. The crowd had their eyes set upon him, now. The ring was cleared and Saint was alone, he needed a bang to go out upon.

Saint: 'I apologize for my adversary, it appears the strain of standing up and talking at the same time proved to be too much for his mind to handle. I'm sure he'll simply go backstage and beat himself around with a telephone receiver until he forgets everything all over again. He'll probably stagger out here once more tonight, introduce himself, and you'll have to stand here and listen to his sob story once more, and for that, my commiserations to you all.'

A small laugh surfaces within the crowd, Saint would smirk once more, the feeling of warmth within his chest returning due to the reaction he receives.

Saint: 'What you witnessed tonight is merely a taste of what you can expect to come from me in the future, I bare no ill will towards any of you, but, if you stand across from me in the ring, I will bring every drop of malice I can harbor and empower it towards making you feel as if your life is about to end, with nothing but the sounds of my voice to accompany you to the other side. I am Peter Saint and I am here to weed out the weaker men and send them packing. I promise, this isn't the last you'll see of me.'

Saint throws the microphone down to the mat as "Idols and Anchors" by Parkway Drive plays loud once more. Saint's smirk remains as he makes he way up the aisle and out of the crowds sight, as he leaves, the faint semblance of cheers are heard. The seeds had been planted, the crowd had recognized the man who stood behind the microphone, and Saint's warm feeling returned once more..