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Post by phoenix on Nov 10, 2007 7:17:49 GMT -5
The Weapon of the Gods had been unleashed against the small group of fighters that were struggling for their survival on Mount Olympus. Battles were fierce. Many strong fighters, known all over the world were risking their life once again. Every one of them had their own agenda. It was all about rescuing a friend and about finding the key to the past.
The Legendary She-Devil, the Chair-Swinging Madman, the Showtime in person and the Special Agent on a mission were survivors of a terrible attack by the Gods. Members of The Fist dark organization were murdered one by one. Something has been unleashed against them and their life were maybe coming to an end. Hundreds of meters away from that...
On the Immortal Plane of Olympus...
A dormant fighter stood on the mountainside. In the distance, the Stairs of the Gods could be seen, as well as the Temple of Olympus. His eyes were closed. He was trapped inside a Crystal Formation and nothing had messed with it for years, or so it would seem. The cold air of this holy place and the Gods themselves didn't do a damn thing to awaken the sleeping man.
Soon, however, it would be the right time...
The second one shall be...
Awaken. |
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Post by phoenix on Nov 10, 2007 19:07:13 GMT -5
There was a glow when someone stood near the Crystal Formation. Slowly, his vital signs were activating. In a moment that looked like eternity, the man inside the Crystal Formation slowly gained upper vital signs. There was a flash after a few seconds. Moments later, his eyes opened to the world, again.
Again? Yes. He had that thought. It's like a had memories or something. Although he couldn't remember anything, he felt like he wasn't a newborn at all. He was no baby. He was on his knees, on the solid rock of the mountainside, with his hands opened on the ground, with a man body. He was maybe 6'05'' and 250 lbs. His eyes were open.
He was breathing heavily. All of this happened in a matter of a second. He could feel everything. The warmth of his body was burning like a Phoenix. His eyes too. His finger strongly caught a solid grip of the ground before his eyes went up. He noticed in a flash that this whole area was surrounded by a thick mist. There was a Temple in the distance, but all he saw in front of him was a woman.
She looked like she went through hell. Her jeans and her vest were ripped at several places and there was dried blood here and there. After a very short moment, a voice or a sound was heard. He didn't really know. His eyes went down and he saw the feet before him leaving in a hurry. He fell on the ground. The universe was swirling around him.
He was struggling to get back up. He felt an immediate hunger.
Then, a boost of energy through his muscular body.
''Hmph.''
He stood up and started to walk forward. Where the fuck was he going?
Guess even he didn't know. |
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Post by phoenix on Nov 13, 2007 6:53:10 GMT -5
A flash from last night. The could only remember a man dressed in black. He was wearing shades. He didn't tell anything about himself except his name; Roy. He told him that his name was Vayne Valentine and that he knows a lot more about him. Vayne wanted answers but the man behind the shades denied him. He called him 'Nova' and then told him to go Chicago and a moment after that, he was gone into the dark European mist whispering also something about a new wrestling league.
''...''
Vayne had nothing to go there, but he was resourceful, although he was clearly over-confused about his identity and his past. Boarding an old ship in Spain, he made his way to a dark storage room and hid there. He was weirdly dressed, but these were his only clothes and he wore those even in the Crystal Formation that he came from. He didn't eat since awhile and his strength was slowly starting to go away.
The ship departed and he slept there, in the dark. Nobody found him but that ship was slow. Eventually, they made their way to the United States. Vayne had only one idea in mind. He wanted to find Chicago. He had no idea where to go to get there. The ship docked in New York. A short while after that, he found his way out without being seen. He had that black trench coat on him.
He never noticed that this coat was one of The Fist's that be eliminated. Memory loss were affected him greatly.
Welcome to America, 'Nova'. |
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Post by phoenix on Nov 13, 2007 7:51:28 GMT -5
He asked...
''What is Chicago?''
An old man with a cane stood in front of him. He was considerably smaller so he looked up to him.
''Well, hum... Sir it's a city. Don't you know that?''
''Now I do.''
He nodded to him politely before turning around. Vayne was weird in every sense of the word. He stood there at 6'5'' of height and 250 pounds of weight. He wore a mask, and a coat with a dragon in the back. Both him and the old man were near the water in the port.
''Um, excuse me... Sir?''
Even if he was kind of polite, the old man was afraid of that freakshow.
''Hm?''
''Thank you for your help.''
He nodded again and walked away. Vayne wanted to ask him how to get there as fast as possible but he didn't want to bother him furthermore. His eyes turned he started to walk. Many eyes crossed his. He was a big and weird guy in a big city now. There were flashes in his head for a few moments when he walked down the streets.
The Airport. He needed to go there.
Hunger was starting to be a real factor here... |
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