Post by MorningStar on Mar 10, 2007 20:35:33 GMT -5
OOC: If it doesn’t make much sense… tough shit. State I’m in, this is the best you’re gonna get out of me.
It's been almost ten years...my god, where's the time gone? Amazing, isn't it, how it just flies by? But there isn't day that goes past without that I don't think about that day. That one, glorious day where I ceased to be Johnathan Reeves, and became The MorningStar. Before that? Nothing. Tell a lie, there's a few things I'll always remember. Funny how the mind does that, isn't it? Sometimes they're not the most significant of memories, and some of them aren't exactly what you'd call fond. But good or not, they'll be with you for life. Let me take you back aways, let me show you what I mean...
Just another gloomy day in Cardiff, capital of Wales, the birthplace of rugby. The sky is ironclad, the sun hidden behind it's impenetrable depths. And yet people go about their daily lives, the hustle and bustle of just another day at the office. Be it suited businessmen with an inflated sense of selfworth, or schoolgirls plastered in makeup and skirts to their knickers, this nations capital in busy as ever...
...I was just a kid back then, and a rebel. I didn't hold much sway with popularity. Just as well really, I was always the outcast...
A figure from legend, who dominated the world of wrestling for decades, hoves through the crowd. His long blonde hair has now faded to grey, and his studded leather outfit is now replaced with a traditional jeans and polo shirt combination...but those hard eyes and strong jaw are unforgettable. Adrian Street, The Exotic One, strides through the streets...carrying his wifes shopping...
~*Ladies Voice*~
...Hey!!! Come back here you!! SOMEONE STOP HIM!
His reflexes lightning quick, Adrians hand snatches out to grab a handful of leather jacket, halting the flight of the scrawny wretch who occupies it.
<|?|>Youth<|?|>
Oi!! Lemme go old man, before I lay ya out!
True to his word, the youth takes a quick swing at Adrian Street, who takes the stinging right without so much as batting an eyelid. He hauls the youth off his feet, his other hand, now devoid of shopping, pulling the handbag from the youths dirty paw.
::Street::
Here you go miss.
~*Lady*~
Thank you! I'll call the cops now for this little shit!
Street just chuckles, still holding the flailing wretch...
::Street::
No need for that, Miss...I'll take care of this one...
...And that, as they say, was the beginning. I sometimes wonder if that first meeting was fate, y’know? Give me some sense of purpose maybe. Hell, I don’t know, that stuffs a little too deep for me, all I knew was that my life changed at that point; Adrian had seen something in this degenerate kid that no one else had, he was life family. Heh, not like I knew what family was like. I'd run out on my mom when I was fifteen, dad was never there in the first place, and she'd cry whenever she looked at me. I've always wondered would have happened if things had been normal. Sometimes I think it would have been nice to have a family…
Once again, the sky overhead is ironclad. The mood has changed though...whereas before the urban hustle and bustle was somehow tinged with excitement, all we have now is regret. The sky leaks its own tears, a light misty drizzle falling onto the canopy of black umbrellas below. A small group, decked out in their Sunday best, huddle beneath the scant comfort of the flimsy brollies. The deathly quiet is broken only by the sonorous voice of the preacher, praying for the poor soul beneath to be given eternal rest and peace. Again we see the youth, now wearing an ill fitting black suit and rumpled shirt, his face grey and tear streaked. He turns and stalks from the graveside as the coffin is lowered, to reveal the simple slab of marble. The passage is simple, yet touching. It reads:
"Here's Lies Patricia Annabelle Reeves"
“Loving and Caring Mother of Johnathan”
"May Her Deeds In Life Reflect Her Life In Heaven"
"In Our Hearts And Minds For Eternity"
"1951 - 1997"
The youth drops to his knees beneath a cedar tree, ignoring the larger drops sliding down his neck and under his shirt. A large hand drops onto his shoulder, pulling him into a rough embrace.
::Street::
It's Ok Johnny...It's Ok...
And then the youth cries, painful wracking sobs tearing from his throat. Long and hard he cries, his grief beyond comprehension...
It'd been a revenge tactic from The Rats; another local gang of thugs. Mom had been asleep upstairs, and one of them had thrown a firebomb through the window. The police say she died in her sleep...it didn't console me much. I felt responsible...hell, I WAS responsible. It's not something a 16 year old needs to experience, I can tell you that much. She had a heart of gold, so I know she's up there. I like to think she's smiling down at me, and proud of what her baby boy has done. she always wanted me to make something of my life... But yeah, from that day onwards all I had was Adrian. He's the one who decided to beat discipline into me...
It's one of those cheesy gyms you see the world over. There's more spiders than students, a few mouldy crash mats and a sagging wrestling ring. The electric was cut off a LONG time ago, the only light available now streams through the high rise shattered windows, in which the dust motes play and frolic. But this isn't what attracts the eye. Inside it two people struggle for position in a headlock. One is Adrian Street, the others face is buried in his armpit, his head being wrenched painfully. Then a sudden snap, a flurry of movement, and Adrian is face down on the canvas, held with a hammerlock. He chuckles;
::Street::
Not bad, Johnny, not bad at all...
The one known as "Johnny" stands up, face flushed and beaming ear to ear. Street stands up, stretching his back dramatically...
<|?|>Johnny<|?|>
Y'know Ad’, that big tournaments coming up for a spot in the UKWA soon...
::Street::
Johnny, will you stop trying to jump the gun? you take a fall well, and your speed is good...I just don't think your ready...
Johnny lets out a furious kick at the bottom rope, which vibrates damply; obviously no ones been tightening them recently. Hotly, he storms up to Adrian, his face a mask of fury…
<|?|>Johnny<|?|>
Goddamned, that'd ALL you say! For MONTHS! When the hell WILL I be ready!?
I was eighteen and headstrong...who was going to tell me what was right and wrong? I entered it, and somehow managed to win. The local talent wasn't that good, and they hadn't had a legend tutoring them in the finer points of wrestling. I won my spot in the UKWA, where I grappled under the name of Kid Nitro. I jobbed, I won once or twice...mainly I got my faced pounded. Then came that one terrific day... The champion, Comet, had left the UKWA for sunnier climes, intent on breaking America. He's retired now, taking a load off and enjoying the fortune he made. So yeah, the entire federation was given a chance to hold that gold. Suspended over the ring, the finalists in the tournament would have to climb a ladder and snatch it. Somehow, through more luck than skill, I'd made it to the finals. There I'd face off against another buddy of mine, Andy Flyer. Brutal was the only word I could think off to describe what we went through...
::Johnny C::
Kid Nitro hits the deck! What a brutal dropkick from Flyer!
::Big Bob::
WHERE THE HELL DID THAT COME FROM!?
Andy Flyer struggles to his feet, staggering to the ladder strewn across the ring. On shaky legs he sets it up dead centre, and begins the long, tired ascent of someone running on autopilot.
::Johnny C::
FLYERS GOING TO DO IT! FLYERS GOING TO DO IT!
::Big Bob::
don't count on it Johnny...Nitro’s up!
Kid Nitro has managed to stand, lying against the ropes for support. His face a mask of crimson, he shakes his head back and forth, trying to get his eyes focused once more. Above, Andy Flyer reaches for the gold, but fumbles it, setting it swinging back and forth. Turning and seeing his big chance slip away from him, Nitro runs at the ladder, taking him, the ladder and Flyer careering into the ropes. Flyer lands gut first onto the ropes, slowly swinging over onto the concrete floor outside, whilst the ladder bounces back to smack Nitro square on the noggin.
::Big Bob::
They’re Both down again!!!
::Johnny C::
Neither of these kids has any give in them, they’d rather die than lose!
Finally, Nitro sets up the ladder, only to be blindsided with a wicked side kick by Flyer, knocking him to the floor. Flyer once again staggers to the ladder, heaving himself step by grueling step towards the greatest prize this side of the Atlantic.
::Johnny C::
It could all be over, Flyers at the top of the ladder!!!
::Big Bob::
Don’t count your chickens Johnny…NITRO IS AT THE LADDER!!!
::Johnny C::
How does he manage it?! This kid isn’t human!!!
Sure enough, scrambling up the ladder, and not having the foggiest idea of what his name is, let alone WHERE he is, Kid Nitro comes level with Andy Flyer, letting loose with a wicked haymaker, rocking Flyer something wicked. A second haymaker, but Flyer still refuses to let go. In an all or nothing attempt, Nitro grabs Flyers head double handed, and leaps into the air, legs wrapping around Flyers head. He whips back in a vicious Frankensteiner, yanking Flyer over the top of the ladder and to the ground below. Nitro hangs onto the rungs, his legs banging into the ladder so hard that it seems that for one single, terrible instant, the ladder is going to tip…
::Big Bob::
SWEET JESUS!!! DID YOU SEE THAT JOHNNY?!
::JOHNNY C::
GET UP ANDY! COME ON, SHAKE IT OFF!
Too late… Nitro climbs the final four rungs on uncertain legs, hands circle the Five Nations belt…it pops free from its loop and the new Five Nations Champion falls to the ground, landing in a sprawled heap next to the still form of Andy Flyer…
That was the greatest moment of my life… There’ve been a lot of title in a lot of federations since… but that night? That night was magical. Fifteen hundred fans screaming my names, and there in the front row sat Adrian, his eyes moist with tears, and his smile ear to ear. That’s one memory I’ll take to the grave with me, because for the first time in my life, someone was proud of me for who I was…
Johnathan Reeves, also known as The MorningStar, runs a hand over his face, dashing away tears threatening to present him carrying on. He clears the lump from his throat, and continues…
<|?|>The MorningStar<|?|>
Convict… That man is the only father I’d ever had. He showed me how to respect my body, to respect others, and most of all to respect myself. People speak of the difference between Heroes and Legends, and speak of them as Gods. Adrian isn’t a God, he’s a man like no other. And I know you. I know exactly what you’re going to do to him. It makes my blood boil to know that your filthy, unclean hands are the ones doing this to him. But I know what he’d want, Convict… he’s always told me to never give in, to be what I want to be and nothing else. That’s why I’m not signing that contract, that’s why I’m not playing your games.
But so help me gods, you hurt him any further Beast, and my vengeance shall be repaid tenfold. Your actions have already damned you in this life and the next, and my wrath is great… Release him and live, Convict. On my hope of salvation and rebirth, these are the words of The MorningStar…
…Heed Them Well…
It's been almost ten years...my god, where's the time gone? Amazing, isn't it, how it just flies by? But there isn't day that goes past without that I don't think about that day. That one, glorious day where I ceased to be Johnathan Reeves, and became The MorningStar. Before that? Nothing. Tell a lie, there's a few things I'll always remember. Funny how the mind does that, isn't it? Sometimes they're not the most significant of memories, and some of them aren't exactly what you'd call fond. But good or not, they'll be with you for life. Let me take you back aways, let me show you what I mean...
Just another gloomy day in Cardiff, capital of Wales, the birthplace of rugby. The sky is ironclad, the sun hidden behind it's impenetrable depths. And yet people go about their daily lives, the hustle and bustle of just another day at the office. Be it suited businessmen with an inflated sense of selfworth, or schoolgirls plastered in makeup and skirts to their knickers, this nations capital in busy as ever...
...I was just a kid back then, and a rebel. I didn't hold much sway with popularity. Just as well really, I was always the outcast...
A figure from legend, who dominated the world of wrestling for decades, hoves through the crowd. His long blonde hair has now faded to grey, and his studded leather outfit is now replaced with a traditional jeans and polo shirt combination...but those hard eyes and strong jaw are unforgettable. Adrian Street, The Exotic One, strides through the streets...carrying his wifes shopping...
~*Ladies Voice*~
...Hey!!! Come back here you!! SOMEONE STOP HIM!
His reflexes lightning quick, Adrians hand snatches out to grab a handful of leather jacket, halting the flight of the scrawny wretch who occupies it.
<|?|>Youth<|?|>
Oi!! Lemme go old man, before I lay ya out!
True to his word, the youth takes a quick swing at Adrian Street, who takes the stinging right without so much as batting an eyelid. He hauls the youth off his feet, his other hand, now devoid of shopping, pulling the handbag from the youths dirty paw.
::Street::
Here you go miss.
~*Lady*~
Thank you! I'll call the cops now for this little shit!
Street just chuckles, still holding the flailing wretch...
::Street::
No need for that, Miss...I'll take care of this one...
...And that, as they say, was the beginning. I sometimes wonder if that first meeting was fate, y’know? Give me some sense of purpose maybe. Hell, I don’t know, that stuffs a little too deep for me, all I knew was that my life changed at that point; Adrian had seen something in this degenerate kid that no one else had, he was life family. Heh, not like I knew what family was like. I'd run out on my mom when I was fifteen, dad was never there in the first place, and she'd cry whenever she looked at me. I've always wondered would have happened if things had been normal. Sometimes I think it would have been nice to have a family…
Once again, the sky overhead is ironclad. The mood has changed though...whereas before the urban hustle and bustle was somehow tinged with excitement, all we have now is regret. The sky leaks its own tears, a light misty drizzle falling onto the canopy of black umbrellas below. A small group, decked out in their Sunday best, huddle beneath the scant comfort of the flimsy brollies. The deathly quiet is broken only by the sonorous voice of the preacher, praying for the poor soul beneath to be given eternal rest and peace. Again we see the youth, now wearing an ill fitting black suit and rumpled shirt, his face grey and tear streaked. He turns and stalks from the graveside as the coffin is lowered, to reveal the simple slab of marble. The passage is simple, yet touching. It reads:
"Here's Lies Patricia Annabelle Reeves"
“Loving and Caring Mother of Johnathan”
"May Her Deeds In Life Reflect Her Life In Heaven"
"In Our Hearts And Minds For Eternity"
"1951 - 1997"
The youth drops to his knees beneath a cedar tree, ignoring the larger drops sliding down his neck and under his shirt. A large hand drops onto his shoulder, pulling him into a rough embrace.
::Street::
It's Ok Johnny...It's Ok...
And then the youth cries, painful wracking sobs tearing from his throat. Long and hard he cries, his grief beyond comprehension...
It'd been a revenge tactic from The Rats; another local gang of thugs. Mom had been asleep upstairs, and one of them had thrown a firebomb through the window. The police say she died in her sleep...it didn't console me much. I felt responsible...hell, I WAS responsible. It's not something a 16 year old needs to experience, I can tell you that much. She had a heart of gold, so I know she's up there. I like to think she's smiling down at me, and proud of what her baby boy has done. she always wanted me to make something of my life... But yeah, from that day onwards all I had was Adrian. He's the one who decided to beat discipline into me...
It's one of those cheesy gyms you see the world over. There's more spiders than students, a few mouldy crash mats and a sagging wrestling ring. The electric was cut off a LONG time ago, the only light available now streams through the high rise shattered windows, in which the dust motes play and frolic. But this isn't what attracts the eye. Inside it two people struggle for position in a headlock. One is Adrian Street, the others face is buried in his armpit, his head being wrenched painfully. Then a sudden snap, a flurry of movement, and Adrian is face down on the canvas, held with a hammerlock. He chuckles;
::Street::
Not bad, Johnny, not bad at all...
The one known as "Johnny" stands up, face flushed and beaming ear to ear. Street stands up, stretching his back dramatically...
<|?|>Johnny<|?|>
Y'know Ad’, that big tournaments coming up for a spot in the UKWA soon...
::Street::
Johnny, will you stop trying to jump the gun? you take a fall well, and your speed is good...I just don't think your ready...
Johnny lets out a furious kick at the bottom rope, which vibrates damply; obviously no ones been tightening them recently. Hotly, he storms up to Adrian, his face a mask of fury…
<|?|>Johnny<|?|>
Goddamned, that'd ALL you say! For MONTHS! When the hell WILL I be ready!?
I was eighteen and headstrong...who was going to tell me what was right and wrong? I entered it, and somehow managed to win. The local talent wasn't that good, and they hadn't had a legend tutoring them in the finer points of wrestling. I won my spot in the UKWA, where I grappled under the name of Kid Nitro. I jobbed, I won once or twice...mainly I got my faced pounded. Then came that one terrific day... The champion, Comet, had left the UKWA for sunnier climes, intent on breaking America. He's retired now, taking a load off and enjoying the fortune he made. So yeah, the entire federation was given a chance to hold that gold. Suspended over the ring, the finalists in the tournament would have to climb a ladder and snatch it. Somehow, through more luck than skill, I'd made it to the finals. There I'd face off against another buddy of mine, Andy Flyer. Brutal was the only word I could think off to describe what we went through...
::Johnny C::
Kid Nitro hits the deck! What a brutal dropkick from Flyer!
::Big Bob::
WHERE THE HELL DID THAT COME FROM!?
Andy Flyer struggles to his feet, staggering to the ladder strewn across the ring. On shaky legs he sets it up dead centre, and begins the long, tired ascent of someone running on autopilot.
::Johnny C::
FLYERS GOING TO DO IT! FLYERS GOING TO DO IT!
::Big Bob::
don't count on it Johnny...Nitro’s up!
Kid Nitro has managed to stand, lying against the ropes for support. His face a mask of crimson, he shakes his head back and forth, trying to get his eyes focused once more. Above, Andy Flyer reaches for the gold, but fumbles it, setting it swinging back and forth. Turning and seeing his big chance slip away from him, Nitro runs at the ladder, taking him, the ladder and Flyer careering into the ropes. Flyer lands gut first onto the ropes, slowly swinging over onto the concrete floor outside, whilst the ladder bounces back to smack Nitro square on the noggin.
::Big Bob::
They’re Both down again!!!
::Johnny C::
Neither of these kids has any give in them, they’d rather die than lose!
Finally, Nitro sets up the ladder, only to be blindsided with a wicked side kick by Flyer, knocking him to the floor. Flyer once again staggers to the ladder, heaving himself step by grueling step towards the greatest prize this side of the Atlantic.
::Johnny C::
It could all be over, Flyers at the top of the ladder!!!
::Big Bob::
Don’t count your chickens Johnny…NITRO IS AT THE LADDER!!!
::Johnny C::
How does he manage it?! This kid isn’t human!!!
Sure enough, scrambling up the ladder, and not having the foggiest idea of what his name is, let alone WHERE he is, Kid Nitro comes level with Andy Flyer, letting loose with a wicked haymaker, rocking Flyer something wicked. A second haymaker, but Flyer still refuses to let go. In an all or nothing attempt, Nitro grabs Flyers head double handed, and leaps into the air, legs wrapping around Flyers head. He whips back in a vicious Frankensteiner, yanking Flyer over the top of the ladder and to the ground below. Nitro hangs onto the rungs, his legs banging into the ladder so hard that it seems that for one single, terrible instant, the ladder is going to tip…
::Big Bob::
SWEET JESUS!!! DID YOU SEE THAT JOHNNY?!
::JOHNNY C::
GET UP ANDY! COME ON, SHAKE IT OFF!
Too late… Nitro climbs the final four rungs on uncertain legs, hands circle the Five Nations belt…it pops free from its loop and the new Five Nations Champion falls to the ground, landing in a sprawled heap next to the still form of Andy Flyer…
That was the greatest moment of my life… There’ve been a lot of title in a lot of federations since… but that night? That night was magical. Fifteen hundred fans screaming my names, and there in the front row sat Adrian, his eyes moist with tears, and his smile ear to ear. That’s one memory I’ll take to the grave with me, because for the first time in my life, someone was proud of me for who I was…
Johnathan Reeves, also known as The MorningStar, runs a hand over his face, dashing away tears threatening to present him carrying on. He clears the lump from his throat, and continues…
<|?|>The MorningStar<|?|>
Convict… That man is the only father I’d ever had. He showed me how to respect my body, to respect others, and most of all to respect myself. People speak of the difference between Heroes and Legends, and speak of them as Gods. Adrian isn’t a God, he’s a man like no other. And I know you. I know exactly what you’re going to do to him. It makes my blood boil to know that your filthy, unclean hands are the ones doing this to him. But I know what he’d want, Convict… he’s always told me to never give in, to be what I want to be and nothing else. That’s why I’m not signing that contract, that’s why I’m not playing your games.
But so help me gods, you hurt him any further Beast, and my vengeance shall be repaid tenfold. Your actions have already damned you in this life and the next, and my wrath is great… Release him and live, Convict. On my hope of salvation and rebirth, these are the words of The MorningStar…
…Heed Them Well…