Angel of Mercy - Azreal Extreme RP

[Azreal]

JerzeyDragon

Action                                     Quote to reply                                     Edit                                     Delete                                     Move                                     Lock                                     Stick                                     Ban IP                                     Ban email                                     Ban user                              Share to:

PM Subscribe Thread Rank：Rookie Score：6 Posts：4 From：USA  Register：13/01/2010 6:56 PM IP：70.173.166.100

Date Posted：25/01/2010 7:42 AMCopy HTML [No frills. That's how Azreal and Shadow Dragon always acted and exactly how things are going to be from them. They don't need special lights and fireworks shows to prove they're the best. In fact, half the time they don't even need the words. "Actions speak louder" is the aged cliché people use to describe a situation like what Azreal and Shadow Dragon have become to SEF. They certainly aren't going to flaunt the accolades they accumulated in the Land of the Rising Sun, but trust, they exist. The fact that the reputation didn't precede them is either akin to the idiocy of American wrestling fans or -- and probably more likely -- somehow these two kept their success under wraps from their homeland on purpose. No matter how you look at it, they made a splash last week at Extreme. Granted, it was against two children of the "emo generation" who were capable of just two things: nothing and liking it. Hell, the little girl didn't stand a chance. She got dumped on her head from nearly seven feet in the air and just laid there and convulsed like a Mormon during a Las Vegas cirque du soliel show. The emo children can now go back and play their guitar, drink their Clamato juice blood and cry about their underachieving over-privileged lives. Azreal and Shadow may not be the favorites to win the Tag Team Championship tournament, but the fact of the matter is that as long as they're in it, they're going to be the wild card. They'll not go quietly and they certainly aren't going to overstate their confidence. The bravado will not be necessary to prove to everyone what they're surely going to accomplish in SEF both separately and individually. This week at Extreme is the only thing on Az's mind. He isn't looking forward to things like the knockoff PPV coming up in two weeks called "Crossing the Line" nor is he looking forward to the finals of the Tag tournament. One opponent at a time. We find Az with his back to the camera as we fade up. His hair falls down over his shoulders, dripping wet. He is adorned in a very nice charcoal gray suit, obviously from some big and tall men's store as his 6'8 frame isn't easily outfitted in such nice clothing. His breath is normal but deep. His massive body necessitates more oxygen than would a normal sized person such as Dante Devlin... that is his name, right? Dante Devlin?] Az: Yeah, voice, that's his name. [His tone is brusque, almost as if that question annoyed him. I'm not a voice. I'm simply--] Az: Inside my head, yeah I know. [Again with the discourteous and curt attitude toward me. I'm simply setting the tone. Az raises his hands to the side and pounds his right fist into his left hand in front of his face, which is obviously hidden by his massive back.] Az: Dante Devlin. A rich kid who's daddy was a wrestling star. If I had a dime for every one of you second-generation brats that thinks you can ride the coattails to stardom. For every Randy Orton and Eddie Guerrero that makes it bigger than their dear old dad could've dreamed, there are idiots like Sim Snuka, Manu, Teddy Hart, and Dante Devlin just wishing to taste greatness because their father has pressured them so much. Hell, Dante's debut was less than a year ago and he is already talking like Doctor Phil to a seasoned veteran like Mack. He's already justifying losses by calling a championship a "tadpole." Kid, you need a lesson in respect of this business. [Az turns and reveals his crisp charcoal tailored suit front quite askew from his mask that is across his face. He takes another deep breath and throws his hair back over his head again, clearing his crystal blue gaijin eyes.] Az: You say that you have more gold in your furniture than people wear around their waist, Dante, but what does it prove aside from you were born to a high society that, for most of us, we'll never see? Matter of fact, I'd rather enjoy hearing stories of a homeless man on crack than put up with the snobby white-collar idiots from the yacht club anyday. At least the homeless man will be honest about stealing from anyone where the white-collar people will just steal from the old ladies and escape to an island in the Caribbean. [Az pauses for a second...] Az: I certainly know I'm not talking above anyone who graduated from Princeton. Dei sub numine viget, no? [Az chuckles... now knowing he's thrown everyone in SEF for a loop by speaking in Latin.] Az: Yeah, you thought just because I'm a big guy wearing a mask and have wrestled for years in Japan that I'm a big dumb goof? Devlin, after you left Minnesota's frigid cold to enjoy the smells and disgusting aromas of northern New Jersey, I had already graduated, with honors, from Harvard... the OLDEST Ivy League school. Veritas... a motto I've lived my life by in Japan, something they respect more than you'll ever understand. [Azreal reaches just off camera and pulls a plaque onto the screen. On it has a piece of black electrical tape covering his real name, but it's a degree of MD from the University of Harvard.] Az: There is one man in this industry that went by "Doctor Death" and that was the late Steve Williams. He was another amazing gaijin. The man went undefeated on American soil for nearly a decade and is a former AJPW Triple Crown Heavyweight Champion. People in the United States think he was just the moron who hung around with Jim Ross. Shows what idiots American wrestling fans are. Regardless, he was a doctor simply in moniker. You can consider the monster before you, a legitimate Doctor Death. An Angel of Mercy. What was my focus of study? Neuroscience. Why? Well, when I snap your neck, I'll have my experiment for how to regenerate spinal cord cells and reverse paralysis. [Az chuckles again and puts his plaque back off screen.] Az: There's nothing I want more than to take your polo shirt, khaki pants, patent leather shoes and eighty dollar haircut and destroy all you are used to. Make your maid and butler free from their duty and make you shit into a bag for the rest of eternity. Do you think that your father has trained you enough for this encounter, Dante? Do you believe in your heart that your daddy gave you the ability to stand up to a monster? Better yet, could your daddy beat my mentor, the Great Muta? The same guy you saw tagging with Vampiro in 2000 was the same guy who was training me in 1998 and 1999 in Japan. So I ask you again, Devlin... does your daddy, who is a nobody to anybody in this wrestling world, compare to a legend in the Japanese wrestling world? [Az shakes his head] Az: I didn't think so. So come Extreme, Devlin, I'm going to show you and your manicured, high society life what it's like to bump until you puke, do squats until you pass out, take chops until you bleed, run the ropes until you've worn your armpit to the red meat, and get stretched like the office slut's pussy in an office full of middle-aged, classless, two-faced bigwigs wanting nothing but to get their nut off and their pockets lined. [Az stands back with his arms crossed, as if expecting an answer or response from the camera.] Az: Oh, so now I'm the asshole, huh? SEF is the place to "push the envelope." It's the "home of champions and controversy." We've got half the damn roster smoking weed like a bunch of overgrown college students and I'm the asshole talking about a hypothetical office-slut who gets ridden more than the New York City Transit system. [Az walks off screen and tips over a table. He then punches his way through a door and the screen cuts to black.]