Post by ethanking on Mar 1, 2018 12:22:14 GMT -5
The video package opens on a black screen, winter winds howling softly in the background. After a few moments, Ethan's voice begins to speak with a slow deliberation - but they are not current words. They are instead a replay of Ethan's first words to Combat Wrestling, the opening of his very first promo.
"I find that first impressions are always of profound importance."
A sequence of clips from Ethan's debut match begins to play from Ethan's debut match, fighting against Lucas Walker and Muru before showing the clip of him laying out Waylon Stokes with the silver knuckles and pinning him for the win.
"Were this an established company, the answer would have been easier. Find your kings, and rip them from their thrones. It's the same here as it is in business. When introducing yourself to a new company, you make sure to make the heaviest statement you can be humbling the biggest dog in the yard."
The clips shift. Now it shows the match between Ethan King and HardKore, showing a number of the hardest blows between the two of them before showing Ethan taking the man down with the Bend The Knee, pinning his opponent with a single casual hand.
"Of course, breaking idols and heroes is bound to earn you resistance... at first."
The scene shifts again. Now it shows his match against Taane. Ethan dodging the Rugby Tackle to get the bigger man to take out the ref. Halting Taane's offense with the low blow kick, and finally the Bend the Knee again, followed by Ethan landing the three count.
"Defiance. It is the natural reaction to command. The weak cannot adapt to it, and crumble away in fear... but the strong?"
The match between Ethan and Muru. Muru tries to stand against Ethan, but withers before Ethan's savage elbow strikes. Muru is taken down by the Bare Your Throat, but Ethan refuses to finish the job. Only by landing the Bend the Knee does Ethan end Muru's suffering.
"The strong know how to break the heart of a would-be rebel. No matter how they claim that they will only be martyrs... it is only ever a matter of time until you've kicked the fight out of an entire company. And once they've stopped fighting you...?"
The camera cuts to black before opening on a desk in a dark and otherwise featureless room. Sitting on the desk, carefully arranged, are several carefully placed items. On the far left is a pair of quarters, dingy and scratched. In the middle is a baby-blue stuffed dragon toy - it's eye cracked and some of the plush singed. On the far right is the newest addition to the desk: a dog collar and a leash, neatly coiled with a polished tag. Nobody is sitting behind the desk, but the voiceover continues
"They crown you."
The camera lingers on the scene for a few silent seconds... before the wall behind the desk collapses, demolished by a sudden crashing force. As the wall comes down, golden light shines through behind it... revealing a lavish throne room. The camera moves forward through the rubble of the office, through the dust of the shattered concrete... allowing the golden throne with purple cushioning to fade into view.... and sitting atop it, wearing an amethyst-encrusted crown of gleaming silver, is Ethan King. He slowly smiles as he looks down on the camera, gently drumming his fingers against the armrest of the throne, before he finally speaks.
"This... is the part where you bow."
"Apparently my sister's finally getting married."
Ethan glanced up from the newspaper he'd been examining. It wasn't local - he had mailed in a copy of The Oregonian, as he had been for the past two months, and was using it to catch up on the state's news on the Senate race. He smiled at his wife as he rolled the paper up and set it down on the couch beside him.
"I'm assuming this isn't the one we hosted last week?"
Gwen laughed. "Ethan! She's only a teenager!"
Ethan shrugged. "I've known men and women who got married right out of high school. Who am I to judge?"
Gwen chuckled and sat down next to him. "Hillarious. But no, this is Tiffany."
"So Carter finally popped the question, hm? Do they need anything? We can afford to pay for a wedding for them, and I'd be happy to-"
Gwen put a finger on his lips. "I already tried to offer, but the answer was no. They're going to go down to the courthouse."
It was Ethan's turn to chuckle. "A man after my own heart..." he trailed off a bit before asking. "You don't... regret the way we got married, do you?"
Gwen rested a hand on his knee. "Not for a second. The last thing I wanted was to turn that into some zoo with a million judgmental assholes bickering in corners and gossiping in the bathrooms. Simple and quiet was everything I wanted. Besides, more funds for the honeymoon."
Ethan gave a small, relieved smile. "Okay. Good. I wanted to ask just in case, because if it was something you wanted we could do a big thing for a renewal."
"Nah," Gwen replied. "I'm happy the way things are."
Ethan gave a nod, and then paused. "About that... I had a question for you. Something that's been percolating in the back of my mind since meeting with Henry."
"Whats that?"
Ethan leaned forward. "What would you say about me running for political office?"
"So here we are. The glorious conclusion. The grand finale. The end of the first tournament, and the last step before the beginning of the first - and last - Combat Wrestling Champion reign. Running concurrently we have the tournament to decide the recipient of the second greatest prize in the company... no, not the women's championship, but the Dauntless Title."
He smirks. "After all, whoever holds the Dauntless Title does not have to be put into a situation where they might challenge for my throne - and I can think of few prizes greater than the chance to avoid such humiliation. It's no wonder that Taane wants it so desperately."
He lattices his fingers and leans forward in his throne. "But that's not the man I have to worry about this week, is it? No, this week it is my duty to focus solely on the one man in this company who has won as many matches as I have. The one man who proved just as ruthless as I am. The one man among the crowd of contenders in Combat Wrestling who has proven that they are truly worthy of my resp..." he closes his eyes and smiles, suppressing a laugh. "Worthy of my respeee... heh. Sorry. No, no, I can say it, I'll try again... Worthy of my re-HA!!!"
Ethan bursts into an uncontrollable torrent of laughter, clutching his gut as he struggles to stay in his seat. After a few moments of forcing composure onto himself, he shakes his head, still grinning as he wipes a tear from his eye. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I did try, but I just... I can't do it. I mean, come on. The barbarians are at the gates, and... and they have just the most crippling daddy issues."
He shrugs. "I mean... seriously, Killian. Who hurt you, and how can I repay them? Everyone else in this company has treated you like you're this scary bogeyman of a monster, but you're just a big guy in desperate need of some therapy. How utterly sad do you have to be to latch that hard onto a man, to focus all of your obvious 'daddy didn't love me enough so I need a new one', like Spike Kane? And yeah, I get it, I know he's my boss and everything, but of all the men you were going to want to be your surrogate dad... SPIKE KANE? Look at his actual kids! I mean, just the ones that he actually bothered raising as opposed to the ones he just dumped out in some east coast backwater. They don't end up any better than you did, pal! In fact, one could argue that you managed to come out of it with a better grip on reality and a more reasonable chance at a happy life than any of them did. His son ended up in a literal Demon Cult... then left it to join... wait for it... another, different Demon Cult. Did you seriously not realize that his Father of the Year mug was a satirical jab that someone sent him as a cruel-hearted joke?"
He pauses and loses himself briefly in another thought. "Speaking of, Spike never did thank me for that Christmas Gift... How ungrateful."
He chuckles and refocuses on the camera. "The point I'm trying to get here, Killian 'my family couldn't spell a four letter word' Kold, is that despite all the bluster and bravado, I don't find you in the least bit intimidating. You're a big guy? Good for you, you eat your feelings - goodness knows you have enough to be depressed about. You got kicked out of a school run by Spike Kane? Cool, you're not just a failure - you're a PRESTIGIOUS failure. You're a cruel, ultra-violent psychopath? That just makes you easier to predict and manipulate. You're a ruthless bastard who'll do anything to win a match even if it's against the rules?"
He gives his most shit-eatingly arrogant smirk. "Any rule you can break, I can break better."
He lets the smile linger for a few moments before continuing. "But you know what, Killy-Chilly? I do agree with you about one thing - you are the replacement for Spike Kane. For all your issues - and boy, you have entire subscriptions - there's a certain undeniable potential in your bloody-minded savagery. Sure, you're unhinged, but I can't deny you're effective. Not enough to threaten me, but you've managed to grind those beneath us into a state of fear and submission. The only thing keeping you from truly replacing Spike on the grand stage is that you're constantly looking to him for approval, because - as mentioned - your daddy issues have latched onto him. You'll never replace him so long as your living in that shadow. What you need is someone who give you what you need, someone willing to actually be that father figure who isn't locked down by the same moral qualms that got him to kick you out of school."
He spreads his arms. "I'm happy to make my services available... son. But first, you'll need to learn submission. You'll need to learn discipline. You'll need to learn to do what I say... and I can be a bit old-fashioned."
He stands and unbuckles the strap of leather and metal around his waist, removing it and coiling it in his hands. He smiles at it, then back at the camera as he slaps it in his palm a few times. "I only have one question left for you, Killian...
Who wants daddy's belt?"
"I find that first impressions are always of profound importance."
A sequence of clips from Ethan's debut match begins to play from Ethan's debut match, fighting against Lucas Walker and Muru before showing the clip of him laying out Waylon Stokes with the silver knuckles and pinning him for the win.
"Were this an established company, the answer would have been easier. Find your kings, and rip them from their thrones. It's the same here as it is in business. When introducing yourself to a new company, you make sure to make the heaviest statement you can be humbling the biggest dog in the yard."
The clips shift. Now it shows the match between Ethan King and HardKore, showing a number of the hardest blows between the two of them before showing Ethan taking the man down with the Bend The Knee, pinning his opponent with a single casual hand.
"Of course, breaking idols and heroes is bound to earn you resistance... at first."
The scene shifts again. Now it shows his match against Taane. Ethan dodging the Rugby Tackle to get the bigger man to take out the ref. Halting Taane's offense with the low blow kick, and finally the Bend the Knee again, followed by Ethan landing the three count.
"Defiance. It is the natural reaction to command. The weak cannot adapt to it, and crumble away in fear... but the strong?"
The match between Ethan and Muru. Muru tries to stand against Ethan, but withers before Ethan's savage elbow strikes. Muru is taken down by the Bare Your Throat, but Ethan refuses to finish the job. Only by landing the Bend the Knee does Ethan end Muru's suffering.
"The strong know how to break the heart of a would-be rebel. No matter how they claim that they will only be martyrs... it is only ever a matter of time until you've kicked the fight out of an entire company. And once they've stopped fighting you...?"
The camera cuts to black before opening on a desk in a dark and otherwise featureless room. Sitting on the desk, carefully arranged, are several carefully placed items. On the far left is a pair of quarters, dingy and scratched. In the middle is a baby-blue stuffed dragon toy - it's eye cracked and some of the plush singed. On the far right is the newest addition to the desk: a dog collar and a leash, neatly coiled with a polished tag. Nobody is sitting behind the desk, but the voiceover continues
"They crown you."
The camera lingers on the scene for a few silent seconds... before the wall behind the desk collapses, demolished by a sudden crashing force. As the wall comes down, golden light shines through behind it... revealing a lavish throne room. The camera moves forward through the rubble of the office, through the dust of the shattered concrete... allowing the golden throne with purple cushioning to fade into view.... and sitting atop it, wearing an amethyst-encrusted crown of gleaming silver, is Ethan King. He slowly smiles as he looks down on the camera, gently drumming his fingers against the armrest of the throne, before he finally speaks.
"This... is the part where you bow."
"Apparently my sister's finally getting married."
Ethan glanced up from the newspaper he'd been examining. It wasn't local - he had mailed in a copy of The Oregonian, as he had been for the past two months, and was using it to catch up on the state's news on the Senate race. He smiled at his wife as he rolled the paper up and set it down on the couch beside him.
"I'm assuming this isn't the one we hosted last week?"
Gwen laughed. "Ethan! She's only a teenager!"
Ethan shrugged. "I've known men and women who got married right out of high school. Who am I to judge?"
Gwen chuckled and sat down next to him. "Hillarious. But no, this is Tiffany."
"So Carter finally popped the question, hm? Do they need anything? We can afford to pay for a wedding for them, and I'd be happy to-"
Gwen put a finger on his lips. "I already tried to offer, but the answer was no. They're going to go down to the courthouse."
It was Ethan's turn to chuckle. "A man after my own heart..." he trailed off a bit before asking. "You don't... regret the way we got married, do you?"
Gwen rested a hand on his knee. "Not for a second. The last thing I wanted was to turn that into some zoo with a million judgmental assholes bickering in corners and gossiping in the bathrooms. Simple and quiet was everything I wanted. Besides, more funds for the honeymoon."
Ethan gave a small, relieved smile. "Okay. Good. I wanted to ask just in case, because if it was something you wanted we could do a big thing for a renewal."
"Nah," Gwen replied. "I'm happy the way things are."
Ethan gave a nod, and then paused. "About that... I had a question for you. Something that's been percolating in the back of my mind since meeting with Henry."
"Whats that?"
Ethan leaned forward. "What would you say about me running for political office?"
"So here we are. The glorious conclusion. The grand finale. The end of the first tournament, and the last step before the beginning of the first - and last - Combat Wrestling Champion reign. Running concurrently we have the tournament to decide the recipient of the second greatest prize in the company... no, not the women's championship, but the Dauntless Title."
He smirks. "After all, whoever holds the Dauntless Title does not have to be put into a situation where they might challenge for my throne - and I can think of few prizes greater than the chance to avoid such humiliation. It's no wonder that Taane wants it so desperately."
He lattices his fingers and leans forward in his throne. "But that's not the man I have to worry about this week, is it? No, this week it is my duty to focus solely on the one man in this company who has won as many matches as I have. The one man who proved just as ruthless as I am. The one man among the crowd of contenders in Combat Wrestling who has proven that they are truly worthy of my resp..." he closes his eyes and smiles, suppressing a laugh. "Worthy of my respeee... heh. Sorry. No, no, I can say it, I'll try again... Worthy of my re-HA!!!"
Ethan bursts into an uncontrollable torrent of laughter, clutching his gut as he struggles to stay in his seat. After a few moments of forcing composure onto himself, he shakes his head, still grinning as he wipes a tear from his eye. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I did try, but I just... I can't do it. I mean, come on. The barbarians are at the gates, and... and they have just the most crippling daddy issues."
He shrugs. "I mean... seriously, Killian. Who hurt you, and how can I repay them? Everyone else in this company has treated you like you're this scary bogeyman of a monster, but you're just a big guy in desperate need of some therapy. How utterly sad do you have to be to latch that hard onto a man, to focus all of your obvious 'daddy didn't love me enough so I need a new one', like Spike Kane? And yeah, I get it, I know he's my boss and everything, but of all the men you were going to want to be your surrogate dad... SPIKE KANE? Look at his actual kids! I mean, just the ones that he actually bothered raising as opposed to the ones he just dumped out in some east coast backwater. They don't end up any better than you did, pal! In fact, one could argue that you managed to come out of it with a better grip on reality and a more reasonable chance at a happy life than any of them did. His son ended up in a literal Demon Cult... then left it to join... wait for it... another, different Demon Cult. Did you seriously not realize that his Father of the Year mug was a satirical jab that someone sent him as a cruel-hearted joke?"
He pauses and loses himself briefly in another thought. "Speaking of, Spike never did thank me for that Christmas Gift... How ungrateful."
He chuckles and refocuses on the camera. "The point I'm trying to get here, Killian 'my family couldn't spell a four letter word' Kold, is that despite all the bluster and bravado, I don't find you in the least bit intimidating. You're a big guy? Good for you, you eat your feelings - goodness knows you have enough to be depressed about. You got kicked out of a school run by Spike Kane? Cool, you're not just a failure - you're a PRESTIGIOUS failure. You're a cruel, ultra-violent psychopath? That just makes you easier to predict and manipulate. You're a ruthless bastard who'll do anything to win a match even if it's against the rules?"
He gives his most shit-eatingly arrogant smirk. "Any rule you can break, I can break better."
He lets the smile linger for a few moments before continuing. "But you know what, Killy-Chilly? I do agree with you about one thing - you are the replacement for Spike Kane. For all your issues - and boy, you have entire subscriptions - there's a certain undeniable potential in your bloody-minded savagery. Sure, you're unhinged, but I can't deny you're effective. Not enough to threaten me, but you've managed to grind those beneath us into a state of fear and submission. The only thing keeping you from truly replacing Spike on the grand stage is that you're constantly looking to him for approval, because - as mentioned - your daddy issues have latched onto him. You'll never replace him so long as your living in that shadow. What you need is someone who give you what you need, someone willing to actually be that father figure who isn't locked down by the same moral qualms that got him to kick you out of school."
He spreads his arms. "I'm happy to make my services available... son. But first, you'll need to learn submission. You'll need to learn discipline. You'll need to learn to do what I say... and I can be a bit old-fashioned."
He stands and unbuckles the strap of leather and metal around his waist, removing it and coiling it in his hands. He smiles at it, then back at the camera as he slaps it in his palm a few times. "I only have one question left for you, Killian...
Who wants daddy's belt?"