Post by Donzig on Dec 26, 2022 19:43:43 GMT -5
‘Should auld acquaintance be forgot
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot
And the days of auld lang syne?
For auld lang syne, my dear
For auld lang syne
We'll drink a cup of kindness yet
For the sake of auld lang syne…’
Came the weird hissing slightly off key song from the darkness, and then snow and ice crunched under foot as Donzig swept into view. His long leather coat swayed behind him, whipping on the cold wind as he drudged forward. A glimpse beneath his hood revealing his mask, and a bit of frost clung to it as his breath billowed from the mouth slits. He paused, frowning out across the lights of Glasgow, and then a hand lifted.
‘New Years’ Brawl is almost here, Esmeralda. And I know this is not the war you wanted, this is not a battle you chose. This war is Blood’s, this war is Armand’s! It is Jakie’s war since now that I have taken his eye, he has become Armand’s would be savior and minion! Perhaps it is even that French Girl’s war, since for some reason that is beyond even me she has chosen to stick her nose in this!’
A shrug of leather clad shoulders, and Donzig shook his head slowly.
‘But you’re not a fool. You know that I am the War that Walks, I am the Scourge! And when your little family walks into the OVO Hydro, that you will be walking into what belongs to Donzig-gun! And that means Death in High Places, the NEW GOD OF EXTREME!’
Donzig paused, staring at the camera before a hand lifted to point mockingly before he waved it away.
‘Will be waiting for you, for all of you. This has gone on between the two of us long enough hasn’t it, Queen of the World? You betrayed me, which I can live with. I am a scorpion, I only do what it is in my nature, Esmeralda. You know that. But what I can’t tolerate? Is that you stole from me! You took what was mine! The destruction of the Pillars, the defeat of those four insipid pricks, you stole my title from me in Reign! And then your husband tried to destroy me out of his own insecurity! You see I know everyone is worried about this little adorable civil war.’
Donzig snorted, his hand lifting to curl and uncurl in a fist before his mask.
‘They don’t want to see us raging in the darkness, they don’t want to see us fighting our own little civil war in the shadows. Oh, and how they talk? With their dick jokes, and their baby insults, and their little comments about ‘oversaturation’ and ‘legitimacy’. And who has defecated all over what was once the most prized title in the XHF the most? But you and I? We are playing a different game aren’t we? With much different stakes! And Glasgow, the W:UK will be our battlefield!’
Donzig walked on, stalking through the snow as his coat fluttered and curled in the wind. And then he stopped beside a pile of snow, and the wrapped handle of a bat jutted from the snow. Donzig hissed, tearing it free with a spray of snow as he waved it back and forth. The wind billowed snow outward as he waved it absently, and barbed wire could be seen coiled around the bat. Donzig lifted it, and his hand swept upward with a wave of his fingers.
Flame erupted along the bat, whipping in the wind as Donzig stared at the flames as they reflected off his mask.
‘You remember Lightbringer don’t you? You will. Because in my hands this is an instrument of purification, it is a tool of healing, with this I will cleanse the blight of the Von Krauss from the XHF! I will destroy the entire pack of clowns and would-be immortals that cling to you like fucking cankers, Esmeralda! And then? Lightbringer will be my scalpel, and I will heal this fucking sick sad world starting with my beloved Sport of Kings! I will cut away, I will rip and tear, and purify with fire all of it’s FUCKING IMPERFECTIONS! And what grows from the ash will be mine!’
Donzig hissed, and the flames hissed and popped as he waved the bat absently.
‘With Lightbringer, I will remake everything EVERYTHING in my image! And it starts with the Von Krauss Dynasty!’
Donzig spits.
‘The arrogance, the hubris, a dynasty! Well, there will be no dynasty, Armand! There will be no dynasty, Esmeralda! They say when Henry the VIII met King Francis the First at the Field of the Cloth of Gold they had a wrestling match! And this match spoiled the chances of peace between them, and war raged onward! Well, this–’
Donzig spun, jabbing Lightbringer towards the outline of the arena before he hissed again.
‘This is our Field of the Cloth of Gold! And all of you, all of you will be broken before the wrath of the Scourge! Oh, your time is winding down! It is almost up! And the new year will belong to me!’
Donzig turned to glare, the burning bat in hand as he started to walk again.
‘No dick joke, baby insults, or spiteful commentary needed. See you soon.’
He walked off then, him and the burning bat slowly swallowed by the darkness as his voice lifted in song again.
‘And surely you will buy your cup
And surely I'll buy mine!
We'll take a cup of kindness yet
For the sake of auld lang syne
We two have paddled in the stream
From morning sun till night
The seas between us Lord and swell
Since the days of auld lang syne
For old acquaintance be forgot
And never brought to mind
Should old acquaintance be forgot
For the sake of auld lang syne?’
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot
And the days of auld lang syne?
For auld lang syne, my dear
For auld lang syne
We'll drink a cup of kindness yet
For the sake of auld lang syne…’
Came the weird hissing slightly off key song from the darkness, and then snow and ice crunched under foot as Donzig swept into view. His long leather coat swayed behind him, whipping on the cold wind as he drudged forward. A glimpse beneath his hood revealing his mask, and a bit of frost clung to it as his breath billowed from the mouth slits. He paused, frowning out across the lights of Glasgow, and then a hand lifted.
‘New Years’ Brawl is almost here, Esmeralda. And I know this is not the war you wanted, this is not a battle you chose. This war is Blood’s, this war is Armand’s! It is Jakie’s war since now that I have taken his eye, he has become Armand’s would be savior and minion! Perhaps it is even that French Girl’s war, since for some reason that is beyond even me she has chosen to stick her nose in this!’
A shrug of leather clad shoulders, and Donzig shook his head slowly.
‘But you’re not a fool. You know that I am the War that Walks, I am the Scourge! And when your little family walks into the OVO Hydro, that you will be walking into what belongs to Donzig-gun! And that means Death in High Places, the NEW GOD OF EXTREME!’
Donzig paused, staring at the camera before a hand lifted to point mockingly before he waved it away.
‘Will be waiting for you, for all of you. This has gone on between the two of us long enough hasn’t it, Queen of the World? You betrayed me, which I can live with. I am a scorpion, I only do what it is in my nature, Esmeralda. You know that. But what I can’t tolerate? Is that you stole from me! You took what was mine! The destruction of the Pillars, the defeat of those four insipid pricks, you stole my title from me in Reign! And then your husband tried to destroy me out of his own insecurity! You see I know everyone is worried about this little adorable civil war.’
Donzig snorted, his hand lifting to curl and uncurl in a fist before his mask.
‘They don’t want to see us raging in the darkness, they don’t want to see us fighting our own little civil war in the shadows. Oh, and how they talk? With their dick jokes, and their baby insults, and their little comments about ‘oversaturation’ and ‘legitimacy’. And who has defecated all over what was once the most prized title in the XHF the most? But you and I? We are playing a different game aren’t we? With much different stakes! And Glasgow, the W:UK will be our battlefield!’
Donzig walked on, stalking through the snow as his coat fluttered and curled in the wind. And then he stopped beside a pile of snow, and the wrapped handle of a bat jutted from the snow. Donzig hissed, tearing it free with a spray of snow as he waved it back and forth. The wind billowed snow outward as he waved it absently, and barbed wire could be seen coiled around the bat. Donzig lifted it, and his hand swept upward with a wave of his fingers.
Flame erupted along the bat, whipping in the wind as Donzig stared at the flames as they reflected off his mask.
‘You remember Lightbringer don’t you? You will. Because in my hands this is an instrument of purification, it is a tool of healing, with this I will cleanse the blight of the Von Krauss from the XHF! I will destroy the entire pack of clowns and would-be immortals that cling to you like fucking cankers, Esmeralda! And then? Lightbringer will be my scalpel, and I will heal this fucking sick sad world starting with my beloved Sport of Kings! I will cut away, I will rip and tear, and purify with fire all of it’s FUCKING IMPERFECTIONS! And what grows from the ash will be mine!’
Donzig hissed, and the flames hissed and popped as he waved the bat absently.
‘With Lightbringer, I will remake everything EVERYTHING in my image! And it starts with the Von Krauss Dynasty!’
Donzig spits.
‘The arrogance, the hubris, a dynasty! Well, there will be no dynasty, Armand! There will be no dynasty, Esmeralda! They say when Henry the VIII met King Francis the First at the Field of the Cloth of Gold they had a wrestling match! And this match spoiled the chances of peace between them, and war raged onward! Well, this–’
Donzig spun, jabbing Lightbringer towards the outline of the arena before he hissed again.
‘This is our Field of the Cloth of Gold! And all of you, all of you will be broken before the wrath of the Scourge! Oh, your time is winding down! It is almost up! And the new year will belong to me!’
Donzig turned to glare, the burning bat in hand as he started to walk again.
‘No dick joke, baby insults, or spiteful commentary needed. See you soon.’
He walked off then, him and the burning bat slowly swallowed by the darkness as his voice lifted in song again.
‘And surely you will buy your cup
And surely I'll buy mine!
We'll take a cup of kindness yet
For the sake of auld lang syne
We two have paddled in the stream
From morning sun till night
The seas between us Lord and swell
Since the days of auld lang syne
For old acquaintance be forgot
And never brought to mind
Should old acquaintance be forgot
For the sake of auld lang syne?’
