Post by The Nihilists on Oct 4, 2018 9:59:27 GMT -5
~The XHF Network feed is cut to static once again as we are all too familiar with. The static fades in to a black and white image of a desolate wasteland. The camera zooms out from a crumbled archway and looks at the trees and overgrowth consuming this formerly industrialized landscape. It then proceeds through the gates of the archway passing through turnstiles as it goes. It swings left and right taking in the silence, the emptiness, the darkness.~
”Like coming home …”
~We hear the turnstiles click again twice and the camera spins slowly to the left as Gebin in his black outfit and familiar black mask steps into frame to the side of the camera. It pans to the right and Esmur in his black and gold outfit and signature mask step in on the right. The camera points ahead again as both men step forward and slowly encroach on the shot as they move with the perspective of the shot. They head under a crumbling faded sign covered in ivy and moss that once read “Welcome to Holy Land!”~
”How tragic. A land developed to honor a deity that was ignored by both man and God alike. And now look how it ended. I would venture a guess that those who would enjoy this park would say He reclaimed the land they took to make this golden cow. It is quite sad really. This park surely held joy for those who subscribed to His word as well as those who didn’t. Honestly I’d say it was too before its time but I doubt the fanatics today would be seen here either. It is the wrong message. This isn’t how the Church would want to present itself.”
~They continue into the park area proper, stepping around rubble and pits. They peer into one large hole where they find a destroyed animatronic lion.~
”Continuity of concept is a very important thing to have. Safety apparently was not. But I think this is a vast improvement. I think we can make this place work. It is rather gorgeous is it not? It is an homage to the potency of the void. You can hear the silence, feel the emptiness. That ever encroaching darkness leading to a peaceful end. The voices and clamor of the throngs of guests … silent. The whirr of the mechanical entertainment vehicles … silent. All the joy, rage, sadness, sorrow, and fun this place could once have given to so many are but a distant memory as they slip into the ether and are forgotten in the pages of time. Even the memories fade. How many people know this place even still stands or ever did stand. Yes it is a testament to the inevitability of the end. And yet it sits here, peacefully slipping out of this world, out of this life. There are no spasms of life, there are no pleas for mercy or reprieve. Just … grim acceptance. A familiar and beautiful concept. It is as our new friend Natasha said, the unstoppable force of coming darkness. Surely we can all see that the achievements of this place in its short life … were pointless. And yet … they serve as a fateful reminder that we are all just specks. All we do is but a blip on the radar, if that, when it comes time to pay the piper.”
”This place is like a monument to everything we have been talking about. And no we do not say that because of the place being a failed monument to God. No no that would be talking down to people and belittling their honestly held beliefs. That would be counterintuitive to the message we are trying to send. After all the message is all about the end, fittingly. And here we have this place sitting shrouded in fog, rich with the sounds, scents, and tastes of emptiness. You can feel the heavy sense of loneliness. The soul of this place faded from this plane of existence so long ago and yet … here we are to put a new bit of soul into it. And while I think beating a dead horse to be a pointless endeavor I can respect the home field advantage we have been given in this empty place. The fire being burned here will not be the one that extinguished so long ago … but one artificially fanned and fed by the hearts and spirits of the competitors who will populate this place. It’s like tying strings on and puppeting a corpse. Morbid … dark … and just a little bit funny. Entertaining at the very least. And here the hollow halls and shattered bones of this place will echo once more with the raucous sounds of the XHF, infesting the body of the park and turning it into a scene for our own spectacle. A utilitarian approach I find it hard to deny. A bit of genius. And it certainly is fitting we ended up in this place … in this match. For the fire that burns within us gathers its fuel and fervor when we have the chance to really get the point across. And this arena … it silently screams in support of the most dangerous tag team rising in the ranks.”
~They continue to tour the park and look for a place to sit down. Most of the benches and attractions are shattered and broken, laying strewn across the grassy Earth below. The only building standing and solid seems to be a metal clad building in the distance that seemed to be the former kitchen for the larger food stands in the park. They begin to walk towards it as they pass by the decorum of the park. Crosses lie broken and rotting on the ground. A large image of a bible is rotting away on its billboard stand. Esmur reaches out and grabs a single whole rosary off a dispensary that has long since forgotten its purpose.~
”The silence … it is more rewarding to us in this sanctum than the roars of the fans in the AWF arenas. Silence, it is the language of the void. When one looks into the dark abyss they hear the language of silence. It is not a language many folks can understand and truly, many people brave enough to take the step and look deep within the abyss state they hear it speak to them. In words and visions and actions. And yet this is just not how it works. The darkness speaks in silence, in blackness, in emptiness. The words you hear are your own mind struggling against the emptiness. And whether you hear a message that upsets you or reassures you depends on the motive you took with you on the journey. Obscurity has no hero after all. And the darkness … is about obscurity. In a sense we are willing to sacrifice the peace and obscurity we gained to bring the message and gift to you all. For you all in XHF seem to run around your lives and try to escape the obscurity. So many of you fancy yourselves heroes … or villains. But there is no such black and white in this world, only gray. And then the final darkness. Not black … but empty. A color nobody can picture in their mind but that we have embraced ourselves. Good and bad, heaven and hell, hero and villain, meaning and purpose … they are just words we tell ourselves to calm the maelstrom of emotion in our minds. Silence however breeds a sense of focus. It brings us the solid framework we need to accomplish the mission the void has tasked us with.”
”A mission that involves breaching the silence of two more men. The foes set before us would likely feel just as at home here … but for a very different reason. Tortura and Papa Fuego do not do a lot of talking … they are hard to read. And that is what we like … a challenge. See they too exist behind a mask, an existence where their original identities are not required. And yet we can’t help but feel the silence is manufactured. Part of the cloak that their leader has created to serve his own purpose. Part of the revenge plot. A piece of a new persona that the fractured psyche of Brad Swann has concocted to try and find meaning in his own failure. To get revenge against those who cast him out. They support him and live inside his own internal fire. And that is just a bleak existence. To be tools for another and have no sense of self. It is … torture. Fittingly. The two of you haven’t said a word since debuting here. But you have certainly made an impact. We have watched your history. We have taken it all in. And in the end it assures us that all we will get out of you … is silence. You need your mouthpiece to talk for you, to tell you how to act, to drive you. And how many bodies are left in his wake? How many people did he at least on video seem to dispatch all to make a point? A point that was …”
”Pointless, in the end. For you fell at the hands of the icons … mere men … men who simply understood that you cannot weaponize silence and fear … if you yourself are afraid of them. Your leader is a perpetual loser … a man who is a laughing stock in AXW. And yet you follow him blindly. You walk beside him in this shroud of flames and blood. But hell is not a thing, it is a mental construct we envision because humanity has so little faith in itself that there has to be some eternal punishment just to keep us on the straight and narrow. And this is pathetic. We are more than capable of being good to each other without the dangling carrot of heaven or the threatened punishment of hell. Silence … comes in many forms. Your silence is complicit in your failings. Your silence is a loud, destructive wave. Plausible deniability … it wasn’t YOU who murdered, it wasn’t you who lost, it wasn’t you who failed! It was your leader! It was hell itself! Excuses, scapegoats … your silence … like a cancer spreads to envelop all around you in a cacophony of torment.”
”But our silence is one of the void. One that our voices may seem to be in line with but do not penetrate. One that comes with peace, civility, … and success! The silence which takes hold here in Holy Land Park. The silence which will come forth from you once we have put you to the mat and pinned you…”
”Or broken you and made you submit to the silence.”
”… is a beautiful, wonderous thing. It spreads only where it is accepted or only when the time is right. At the end. It takes hold gently and guides those willing people into its embrace. This match … will be excitement. It will be the storm and the fury. It will be art. It will once again be the further rise of Gebin and Esmur, the Nihilists, to the top of this place. Everything else?”
”… Is Silence.”
~The two men look up at the kitchen facility. They then look down at the camera before turning and moving through the doors into the facility and the static takes hold on the feed.~
”Like coming home …”
~We hear the turnstiles click again twice and the camera spins slowly to the left as Gebin in his black outfit and familiar black mask steps into frame to the side of the camera. It pans to the right and Esmur in his black and gold outfit and signature mask step in on the right. The camera points ahead again as both men step forward and slowly encroach on the shot as they move with the perspective of the shot. They head under a crumbling faded sign covered in ivy and moss that once read “Welcome to Holy Land!”~
”How tragic. A land developed to honor a deity that was ignored by both man and God alike. And now look how it ended. I would venture a guess that those who would enjoy this park would say He reclaimed the land they took to make this golden cow. It is quite sad really. This park surely held joy for those who subscribed to His word as well as those who didn’t. Honestly I’d say it was too before its time but I doubt the fanatics today would be seen here either. It is the wrong message. This isn’t how the Church would want to present itself.”
~They continue into the park area proper, stepping around rubble and pits. They peer into one large hole where they find a destroyed animatronic lion.~
”Continuity of concept is a very important thing to have. Safety apparently was not. But I think this is a vast improvement. I think we can make this place work. It is rather gorgeous is it not? It is an homage to the potency of the void. You can hear the silence, feel the emptiness. That ever encroaching darkness leading to a peaceful end. The voices and clamor of the throngs of guests … silent. The whirr of the mechanical entertainment vehicles … silent. All the joy, rage, sadness, sorrow, and fun this place could once have given to so many are but a distant memory as they slip into the ether and are forgotten in the pages of time. Even the memories fade. How many people know this place even still stands or ever did stand. Yes it is a testament to the inevitability of the end. And yet it sits here, peacefully slipping out of this world, out of this life. There are no spasms of life, there are no pleas for mercy or reprieve. Just … grim acceptance. A familiar and beautiful concept. It is as our new friend Natasha said, the unstoppable force of coming darkness. Surely we can all see that the achievements of this place in its short life … were pointless. And yet … they serve as a fateful reminder that we are all just specks. All we do is but a blip on the radar, if that, when it comes time to pay the piper.”
”This place is like a monument to everything we have been talking about. And no we do not say that because of the place being a failed monument to God. No no that would be talking down to people and belittling their honestly held beliefs. That would be counterintuitive to the message we are trying to send. After all the message is all about the end, fittingly. And here we have this place sitting shrouded in fog, rich with the sounds, scents, and tastes of emptiness. You can feel the heavy sense of loneliness. The soul of this place faded from this plane of existence so long ago and yet … here we are to put a new bit of soul into it. And while I think beating a dead horse to be a pointless endeavor I can respect the home field advantage we have been given in this empty place. The fire being burned here will not be the one that extinguished so long ago … but one artificially fanned and fed by the hearts and spirits of the competitors who will populate this place. It’s like tying strings on and puppeting a corpse. Morbid … dark … and just a little bit funny. Entertaining at the very least. And here the hollow halls and shattered bones of this place will echo once more with the raucous sounds of the XHF, infesting the body of the park and turning it into a scene for our own spectacle. A utilitarian approach I find it hard to deny. A bit of genius. And it certainly is fitting we ended up in this place … in this match. For the fire that burns within us gathers its fuel and fervor when we have the chance to really get the point across. And this arena … it silently screams in support of the most dangerous tag team rising in the ranks.”
~They continue to tour the park and look for a place to sit down. Most of the benches and attractions are shattered and broken, laying strewn across the grassy Earth below. The only building standing and solid seems to be a metal clad building in the distance that seemed to be the former kitchen for the larger food stands in the park. They begin to walk towards it as they pass by the decorum of the park. Crosses lie broken and rotting on the ground. A large image of a bible is rotting away on its billboard stand. Esmur reaches out and grabs a single whole rosary off a dispensary that has long since forgotten its purpose.~
”The silence … it is more rewarding to us in this sanctum than the roars of the fans in the AWF arenas. Silence, it is the language of the void. When one looks into the dark abyss they hear the language of silence. It is not a language many folks can understand and truly, many people brave enough to take the step and look deep within the abyss state they hear it speak to them. In words and visions and actions. And yet this is just not how it works. The darkness speaks in silence, in blackness, in emptiness. The words you hear are your own mind struggling against the emptiness. And whether you hear a message that upsets you or reassures you depends on the motive you took with you on the journey. Obscurity has no hero after all. And the darkness … is about obscurity. In a sense we are willing to sacrifice the peace and obscurity we gained to bring the message and gift to you all. For you all in XHF seem to run around your lives and try to escape the obscurity. So many of you fancy yourselves heroes … or villains. But there is no such black and white in this world, only gray. And then the final darkness. Not black … but empty. A color nobody can picture in their mind but that we have embraced ourselves. Good and bad, heaven and hell, hero and villain, meaning and purpose … they are just words we tell ourselves to calm the maelstrom of emotion in our minds. Silence however breeds a sense of focus. It brings us the solid framework we need to accomplish the mission the void has tasked us with.”
”A mission that involves breaching the silence of two more men. The foes set before us would likely feel just as at home here … but for a very different reason. Tortura and Papa Fuego do not do a lot of talking … they are hard to read. And that is what we like … a challenge. See they too exist behind a mask, an existence where their original identities are not required. And yet we can’t help but feel the silence is manufactured. Part of the cloak that their leader has created to serve his own purpose. Part of the revenge plot. A piece of a new persona that the fractured psyche of Brad Swann has concocted to try and find meaning in his own failure. To get revenge against those who cast him out. They support him and live inside his own internal fire. And that is just a bleak existence. To be tools for another and have no sense of self. It is … torture. Fittingly. The two of you haven’t said a word since debuting here. But you have certainly made an impact. We have watched your history. We have taken it all in. And in the end it assures us that all we will get out of you … is silence. You need your mouthpiece to talk for you, to tell you how to act, to drive you. And how many bodies are left in his wake? How many people did he at least on video seem to dispatch all to make a point? A point that was …”
”Pointless, in the end. For you fell at the hands of the icons … mere men … men who simply understood that you cannot weaponize silence and fear … if you yourself are afraid of them. Your leader is a perpetual loser … a man who is a laughing stock in AXW. And yet you follow him blindly. You walk beside him in this shroud of flames and blood. But hell is not a thing, it is a mental construct we envision because humanity has so little faith in itself that there has to be some eternal punishment just to keep us on the straight and narrow. And this is pathetic. We are more than capable of being good to each other without the dangling carrot of heaven or the threatened punishment of hell. Silence … comes in many forms. Your silence is complicit in your failings. Your silence is a loud, destructive wave. Plausible deniability … it wasn’t YOU who murdered, it wasn’t you who lost, it wasn’t you who failed! It was your leader! It was hell itself! Excuses, scapegoats … your silence … like a cancer spreads to envelop all around you in a cacophony of torment.”
”But our silence is one of the void. One that our voices may seem to be in line with but do not penetrate. One that comes with peace, civility, … and success! The silence which takes hold here in Holy Land Park. The silence which will come forth from you once we have put you to the mat and pinned you…”
”Or broken you and made you submit to the silence.”
”… is a beautiful, wonderous thing. It spreads only where it is accepted or only when the time is right. At the end. It takes hold gently and guides those willing people into its embrace. This match … will be excitement. It will be the storm and the fury. It will be art. It will once again be the further rise of Gebin and Esmur, the Nihilists, to the top of this place. Everything else?”
”… Is Silence.”
~The two men look up at the kitchen facility. They then look down at the camera before turning and moving through the doors into the facility and the static takes hold on the feed.~
