Post by Tommy Sirius on Jun 8, 2011 13:58:23 GMT -5
There he stood, dripping wet and a towel wrapped around his waist as he looked at his near nude self in a full sized mirror. The prior events of the night, had played more of a tole on himself then he had predicted. Aside from gaining his first Saint, John Michael, he had realized that the only way to bring quite possibly the strongest ally he could have was through a gilded angel. The little tramp holiday, that whisper to temptation in a lost shepherds ear. The only way to quiet that temptation, is to snuff out the whispers.
"You need to see this Tommy." came the voice of Saint John Michaels from the conjoined room.
At first, he didn't care a bit, his pure focus at the moment was of the harlot...though knowing his saints intelligence and ability to plan ahead and strategical mind...he'd dare not ignore his calling. So turning he entered the room where Saint John Michael sat, his suit jacket off and his dress shirt buttons loosened to relax him. He sat in a chair, staring at a small monitor in front of him.
"I can't believe I didn't think of this, but we over looking something....something very lethal to the cause." Saint JMW said, nodding towards the monitor.
Sirius stared into the screen, his mind still wrapping around the thought of one more thing needed to be done tonight. But as he realized just what was going on in front of him, his mind was torn away and straight to the man that sat tattered, torn, broken, yet more dangerous then most that walks these halls. Trash.
"REW. I congratulate you. You have a messiah. You have someone that will save you, someone that will put you on the right track. Someone...someone that will take what they can from you and leave you hollow, empty, discarded."
"You cheer for this change, you cheer just because it's new, not because it will lead to anything good. And the rest of you REW, the Sexperts, the Freakulas, The Dreamkillers...where are you when this usurpation takes place? Where are your razor gloves, your machetes, your...whatever is under that towel. Why do you sit quietly and watch what YOU worked for be pulled from under you?"
"I might not be able to wrestle, but I call upon you to think about what has transpired here today. I call upon you to RECLAIM what you had worked for. I call upon you...I call upon you because this program should not be dedicated to Tommy and Johnny preaching THEIR worldview. This program should be dedicated...dedicated to...the athletes...and the people." Trash spoke, his voice carrying the force of a thousand fists, and quite frankly can probably rally the same.
"He is not to be toyed with or discarded...." Sirius said, his scratchy voice solemn yet serious.
"You don't need to tell me that, you havn't forgotten who's been here while you were dealing with the demons in your closet." Saint JMW spoke, his voice carrying that of a war general who's just overlooked a near fatal situation. "This needs to be taken care of quick."
Sirius nods, looking towards the door.
"Give him to me at wrath, Strongstyle title on the line or not...I don't care. Don't care what type of gimmick...you set the stage ill take care of him." Sirius said.
"And what about Sara?" JMW asked, a questionable look coming across his face.
"Don't worry...she won't be there." Sirius said...before storming to the door and leaving the room.
"Hey wait...do you know your only in a towel!?" Saint JMW said in vein, leaning over to look out the open door.
Taking a deep breath, JMW readies himself for the tower of paperwork Sirius is probably about to throw in his lap.
---------------
To be quite honest, it scared her a bit. The look in Aarons eyes as JMW and Sirius beckoned him to devastation. They had nearly got him, if it hadn't been for a few sweet words and a bit of luck...she could have really lost Aaron. There would be no joining him where he would have went, because she knew....she was target number one in their crusade for a new world. But that was then, and now...is now. It's time to put the nights events behind her and worry about getting some relaxation and clearing her head...she knew she had a battle ahead of her at next Wrath.
Standing up from the bench she walked across the small steam filled room and looked through the opening, no one was in the locker room and the hallways outside where pitch black...everyone had left and Aaron was on the roof being Aaron. Confident in the fact she could be at peace for a moment she removed the towel from herself revealing her firm body, the ravages of baring a child barely visible. She sat back on the wooden bench turning and laid back to relax, and possibly take a little nap in the steam room. And as she slowly drifted off, she became more and more unaware of her surroundings as the heat and steam lured her into a deep...much needed...slumber.
So deep, so unaware that the sound of the penthouse locker room opening didn't catch her attention. Nor the new presence at the steam room door...or the towel dropping to the floor.
------------
He looked at his blood covered hands, a sick smile spreading across his hands as his brutal work laid at his feet. He had ripped the halo from the angels body, snapped her wings and drove her head first into the steam room floor. And there she lay, only a few shallow breaths keeping her alive...he wanted her alive. To send a message to those lost and thriving in filth with Trash. Salvation reside with the Messiah and his saints.
"Oh shit...I knew you where going to do something...but....oh man..." came the voice of Saint John Michaels as he ran up to the horrid scene.
Taking a look at her nude beaten and bloodied body on the floor, then back at Sirius who also stands nude and bloody; a flash of fury lights up in his eyes. Shoving Sirius around the face him, he coldy asks...
"Did you....?" JMW asked, hoping to hear what he wanted.
A look of disgust quickly formed over the face of Sirius who looked back down at Sara Stone-Holiday.
"Fuck no! I would never fuck that whore!" Sirius said, looking back at Saint JMW.
Relief flooded over the face of JMW as he grabbed Sirius by the wrist, rushing him out of the steam room and pent house of the Holidays. "Good...now lets get the hell out of here....Aaron is wrapping up his little concert on the roof..."
As JMW ushered him out, Sirius took another look at the brutally beaten Sara Stone.....
"You need to see this Tommy." came the voice of Saint John Michaels from the conjoined room.
At first, he didn't care a bit, his pure focus at the moment was of the harlot...though knowing his saints intelligence and ability to plan ahead and strategical mind...he'd dare not ignore his calling. So turning he entered the room where Saint John Michael sat, his suit jacket off and his dress shirt buttons loosened to relax him. He sat in a chair, staring at a small monitor in front of him.
"I can't believe I didn't think of this, but we over looking something....something very lethal to the cause." Saint JMW said, nodding towards the monitor.
Sirius stared into the screen, his mind still wrapping around the thought of one more thing needed to be done tonight. But as he realized just what was going on in front of him, his mind was torn away and straight to the man that sat tattered, torn, broken, yet more dangerous then most that walks these halls. Trash.
"REW. I congratulate you. You have a messiah. You have someone that will save you, someone that will put you on the right track. Someone...someone that will take what they can from you and leave you hollow, empty, discarded."
"You cheer for this change, you cheer just because it's new, not because it will lead to anything good. And the rest of you REW, the Sexperts, the Freakulas, The Dreamkillers...where are you when this usurpation takes place? Where are your razor gloves, your machetes, your...whatever is under that towel. Why do you sit quietly and watch what YOU worked for be pulled from under you?"
"I might not be able to wrestle, but I call upon you to think about what has transpired here today. I call upon you to RECLAIM what you had worked for. I call upon you...I call upon you because this program should not be dedicated to Tommy and Johnny preaching THEIR worldview. This program should be dedicated...dedicated to...the athletes...and the people." Trash spoke, his voice carrying the force of a thousand fists, and quite frankly can probably rally the same.
"He is not to be toyed with or discarded...." Sirius said, his scratchy voice solemn yet serious.
"You don't need to tell me that, you havn't forgotten who's been here while you were dealing with the demons in your closet." Saint JMW spoke, his voice carrying that of a war general who's just overlooked a near fatal situation. "This needs to be taken care of quick."
Sirius nods, looking towards the door.
"Give him to me at wrath, Strongstyle title on the line or not...I don't care. Don't care what type of gimmick...you set the stage ill take care of him." Sirius said.
"And what about Sara?" JMW asked, a questionable look coming across his face.
"Don't worry...she won't be there." Sirius said...before storming to the door and leaving the room.
"Hey wait...do you know your only in a towel!?" Saint JMW said in vein, leaning over to look out the open door.
Taking a deep breath, JMW readies himself for the tower of paperwork Sirius is probably about to throw in his lap.
---------------
To be quite honest, it scared her a bit. The look in Aarons eyes as JMW and Sirius beckoned him to devastation. They had nearly got him, if it hadn't been for a few sweet words and a bit of luck...she could have really lost Aaron. There would be no joining him where he would have went, because she knew....she was target number one in their crusade for a new world. But that was then, and now...is now. It's time to put the nights events behind her and worry about getting some relaxation and clearing her head...she knew she had a battle ahead of her at next Wrath.
Standing up from the bench she walked across the small steam filled room and looked through the opening, no one was in the locker room and the hallways outside where pitch black...everyone had left and Aaron was on the roof being Aaron. Confident in the fact she could be at peace for a moment she removed the towel from herself revealing her firm body, the ravages of baring a child barely visible. She sat back on the wooden bench turning and laid back to relax, and possibly take a little nap in the steam room. And as she slowly drifted off, she became more and more unaware of her surroundings as the heat and steam lured her into a deep...much needed...slumber.
So deep, so unaware that the sound of the penthouse locker room opening didn't catch her attention. Nor the new presence at the steam room door...or the towel dropping to the floor.
------------
He looked at his blood covered hands, a sick smile spreading across his hands as his brutal work laid at his feet. He had ripped the halo from the angels body, snapped her wings and drove her head first into the steam room floor. And there she lay, only a few shallow breaths keeping her alive...he wanted her alive. To send a message to those lost and thriving in filth with Trash. Salvation reside with the Messiah and his saints.
"Oh shit...I knew you where going to do something...but....oh man..." came the voice of Saint John Michaels as he ran up to the horrid scene.
Taking a look at her nude beaten and bloodied body on the floor, then back at Sirius who also stands nude and bloody; a flash of fury lights up in his eyes. Shoving Sirius around the face him, he coldy asks...
"Did you....?" JMW asked, hoping to hear what he wanted.
A look of disgust quickly formed over the face of Sirius who looked back down at Sara Stone-Holiday.
"Fuck no! I would never fuck that whore!" Sirius said, looking back at Saint JMW.
Relief flooded over the face of JMW as he grabbed Sirius by the wrist, rushing him out of the steam room and pent house of the Holidays. "Good...now lets get the hell out of here....Aaron is wrapping up his little concert on the roof..."
As JMW ushered him out, Sirius took another look at the brutally beaten Sara Stone.....