"Come closer and see... See into the trees..." (NoC RP#2)
Jul 24, 2023 15:42:57 GMT -5
Mongo the Destroyer, Dave D-Flipz, and 3 more like this
Post by bloodiedfox on Jul 24, 2023 15:42:57 GMT -5
The sun is beginning to set as Bloodied Fox walks through the woods, destination known only to himself.
I’ve been accused of ingratitude a lot these last few months. Like some gaslighting abusive parent, the XHF fans have insisted I’m ungrateful in my treatment of the people who suddenly felt the need to ‘rescue’ me now that I have an X*Crown to take in the process. Setting aside that being the equivalent of forcefeeding me a shit sandwich and then expecting me to smile and ask for seconds, it’s untrue to suggest I’m an ingrate. Hell, I’ll prove it right now!
I am very grateful that none of my Throne of Gold opponents are trying to drown me in sanctimony.
There, see? I’ll give thanks where it’s warranted! After getting both barrels of ‘holier than thou’ tripe from Death Trap, and then Armbishi feeling the need to join in, I could not have withstood the lead in to Night of Champions burying me in “We just want to help you, Fox!”. Though I suppose given the line up against me it wasn’t likely for anyone to give a shit about my state of mind anyway, so maybe I’m being overly generous. What can I say? I’m a giver!
Fox gives the most wondrously fake grin this side of a Starbucks barista. He lets it linger for a moment before mercifully letting it drop.
If you want to say that’s taking with one hand what the other passed over then go ahead, but can I really be called a liar? Let’s start with the man everyone seems to be pinning their hopes on to beat me, Steve Awesome. Yes, Poundland Van Damme is the great white hope for the fans here, and doesn’t that just tell you everything you need to know about this place? Without a functioning moral fibre in his chiselled bod, Steve-O swore off shenanigans only to immediately start engaging in them. Par for the course, really, from a man who’s cheated on every woman he professed to love and failed as a father to such a degree even Elon Musk would be stunned. Incapable as he is of giving a shit about anyone but himself, it’s fitting that it’s his self that’s going to get fucked up when the bell rings. If you thought what Zoran did to him at the Rumble back in 22 was bad…
He sucks air in through gritted teeth and shakes his head, as though trying to dismiss visions of Steve’s grisly future. After a moment’s pause, he continues.
Then there’s BEEF. Not sure how I’m saying that in all caps, but ah well. Now BEEF actually decided to address me directly, telling me that he doesn’t want to take from me but he will. Sweet sentiment, roast with two veg, but the only thing you’re going to be taking from me is my foot upside your skull. You seem to be under this impression that you’re special, but quite frankly the only thing special about you is you’re capable of being in the presence of El Rey without trying to strangle him for longer than anyone else. Yes, you’re big. Yes, you’re strong. So was Kuroi, and I still spiked that cultist motherfucker headfirst through a table.
As for Sam Sawyer…
Fox pauses again, an expression of something almost akin to sympathy crossing his face.
No, I’m not going in on you right now. You’ve got enough to deal with as is, and out of everyone in this match I think you’re the one to know why I’m doing what I’m doing. You know what this world is like to those who step outside its neat little definitions. Come match time I won’t hold back, not least because I know you wouldn’t want me to, but for now I’ll leave you be.
Fox nods to himself, affirming his choice. Then a look of distaste takes up residence.
Which leaves Florida Man. Fuck, where do I even start with you? You’re a fucking abomination; a walking blight on this whole industry. You should have overdosed or broken your neck a long time ago, but by some dark miracle you just keep on going. You’re some kind of luck based lifeform, like Lord Dominicus but with every single likeable trait filed off and smeared over with dog shit. You’re happy and proud to be a mascot for a state run by a fucking nazi who wants people like me or Sawyer to not exist. You spend all your time hanging around a dwarf with brain damage from being covered in lead paint and that fucking scumbag Jim Hellwig, wo I thought died nine years ago but I guess even Satan got tired of being told “queerin’ don’t make the world work!”. Even if you hadn’t been a pawn in my junior heavyweight title being stolen from me, I’d still loathe you. Since you were, however, I’m going to enjoy hurting you so badly you never step foot in a ring again.
Fox is so agitated he spits on the ground, then takes a breath to calm himself.
Of course, if I focus too much on you then I could let one of the others win. Same if I spend too much time mutilating Steve’s pretty face. Same if I let my sympathy for Sawyer get in the way. Same if I become distracted and BEEF gets the jump on me. One on one, none of you would beat me. Here, in a five way that doesn’t end in pinfall or submission? There’s a chance I won’t walk out without this.
He lifts up his X*Crown belt, letting it catch the fading sunlight.
But there’s an even greater chance I will. You know why? Because I am the blood red star shining baleful light upon this entire fucking industry. Because the Reign of Blood is merely beginning. Because I will not end until I say it ends…
Because I am Bloodied Fox, and fuck the rest of you.
I’ve been accused of ingratitude a lot these last few months. Like some gaslighting abusive parent, the XHF fans have insisted I’m ungrateful in my treatment of the people who suddenly felt the need to ‘rescue’ me now that I have an X*Crown to take in the process. Setting aside that being the equivalent of forcefeeding me a shit sandwich and then expecting me to smile and ask for seconds, it’s untrue to suggest I’m an ingrate. Hell, I’ll prove it right now!
I am very grateful that none of my Throne of Gold opponents are trying to drown me in sanctimony.
There, see? I’ll give thanks where it’s warranted! After getting both barrels of ‘holier than thou’ tripe from Death Trap, and then Armbishi feeling the need to join in, I could not have withstood the lead in to Night of Champions burying me in “We just want to help you, Fox!”. Though I suppose given the line up against me it wasn’t likely for anyone to give a shit about my state of mind anyway, so maybe I’m being overly generous. What can I say? I’m a giver!
Fox gives the most wondrously fake grin this side of a Starbucks barista. He lets it linger for a moment before mercifully letting it drop.
If you want to say that’s taking with one hand what the other passed over then go ahead, but can I really be called a liar? Let’s start with the man everyone seems to be pinning their hopes on to beat me, Steve Awesome. Yes, Poundland Van Damme is the great white hope for the fans here, and doesn’t that just tell you everything you need to know about this place? Without a functioning moral fibre in his chiselled bod, Steve-O swore off shenanigans only to immediately start engaging in them. Par for the course, really, from a man who’s cheated on every woman he professed to love and failed as a father to such a degree even Elon Musk would be stunned. Incapable as he is of giving a shit about anyone but himself, it’s fitting that it’s his self that’s going to get fucked up when the bell rings. If you thought what Zoran did to him at the Rumble back in 22 was bad…
He sucks air in through gritted teeth and shakes his head, as though trying to dismiss visions of Steve’s grisly future. After a moment’s pause, he continues.
Then there’s BEEF. Not sure how I’m saying that in all caps, but ah well. Now BEEF actually decided to address me directly, telling me that he doesn’t want to take from me but he will. Sweet sentiment, roast with two veg, but the only thing you’re going to be taking from me is my foot upside your skull. You seem to be under this impression that you’re special, but quite frankly the only thing special about you is you’re capable of being in the presence of El Rey without trying to strangle him for longer than anyone else. Yes, you’re big. Yes, you’re strong. So was Kuroi, and I still spiked that cultist motherfucker headfirst through a table.
As for Sam Sawyer…
Fox pauses again, an expression of something almost akin to sympathy crossing his face.
No, I’m not going in on you right now. You’ve got enough to deal with as is, and out of everyone in this match I think you’re the one to know why I’m doing what I’m doing. You know what this world is like to those who step outside its neat little definitions. Come match time I won’t hold back, not least because I know you wouldn’t want me to, but for now I’ll leave you be.
Fox nods to himself, affirming his choice. Then a look of distaste takes up residence.
Which leaves Florida Man. Fuck, where do I even start with you? You’re a fucking abomination; a walking blight on this whole industry. You should have overdosed or broken your neck a long time ago, but by some dark miracle you just keep on going. You’re some kind of luck based lifeform, like Lord Dominicus but with every single likeable trait filed off and smeared over with dog shit. You’re happy and proud to be a mascot for a state run by a fucking nazi who wants people like me or Sawyer to not exist. You spend all your time hanging around a dwarf with brain damage from being covered in lead paint and that fucking scumbag Jim Hellwig, wo I thought died nine years ago but I guess even Satan got tired of being told “queerin’ don’t make the world work!”. Even if you hadn’t been a pawn in my junior heavyweight title being stolen from me, I’d still loathe you. Since you were, however, I’m going to enjoy hurting you so badly you never step foot in a ring again.
Fox is so agitated he spits on the ground, then takes a breath to calm himself.
Of course, if I focus too much on you then I could let one of the others win. Same if I spend too much time mutilating Steve’s pretty face. Same if I let my sympathy for Sawyer get in the way. Same if I become distracted and BEEF gets the jump on me. One on one, none of you would beat me. Here, in a five way that doesn’t end in pinfall or submission? There’s a chance I won’t walk out without this.
He lifts up his X*Crown belt, letting it catch the fading sunlight.
But there’s an even greater chance I will. You know why? Because I am the blood red star shining baleful light upon this entire fucking industry. Because the Reign of Blood is merely beginning. Because I will not end until I say it ends…
Because I am Bloodied Fox, and fuck the rest of you.