Eeyen
TeamMoose
Posts : 14180
Join date : 2013-07-19
Age : 31
 |  Subject: PROMO | Robert Hope - "Welcome to the Apocalypse" Tue Jun 17, 2014 5:35 pm | |
| DUE: Friday, June 27th at 11:59PM EST (UTC -4 Hours) |
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Kanimaniac
Middle Carder
Posts : 762
Join date : 2013-07-23
| | Subject: Re: PROMO | Robert Hope - "Welcome to the Apocalypse" Mon Jun 23, 2014 3:44 pm | |
| The arena is still buzzing from the amazing match that they have just witnessed! The fans are on their feet, chanting and cheering for their favourite stars, for XWA in general, and for the night that carries so much of the spirit of the old US of A. As the ring gradually clears, the titantron crackles with static. The fans snap their heads towards it, having an inkling as to who it might be...and who it is does not fit the atmosphere of this great show. Sure enough, they see a candle-lit room, and immediately begin to shower the arena with a chorus of boos. In the mid-ground of the room is a man sitting on the floor, clutching a wooden club of some form. He is sitting hunched over, with the shadows cast by his head obscuring much of his frame. He strokes the club tenderly, as if it were his child. Off in the background stand two darkened figures, only just picked out by the orange licks of flame from the candles. The man looks up to the camera to reveal the man everyone already knew was there: Robert Hope. However, the confirmation of this just seems to make the crowd boo even louder. As if there was that little hope that it wasn't him, and they're disappointed to find that hope extinguished by Hope. The Prophet, the self-proclaimed King of XWA Robert Hope, sits clutching the makeshift club that was fashioned out of the chair leg of his old throne. The throne which was destroyed by his opponent tonight, David Michaels. He shuffles around a little bit, before getting somewhat more comfortable while in the confines of his battered leather jacket and torn jeans.
|Hope| “I find the term 'Hell' to be a very judgemental thing. Many people believe that there is a Hell, and it's where you go if you have sinned. People live their lives trying their very best to avoid it. They sit in pews, they fall to their knees and they shout up to the heavens. They shout that they are ready and willing to be guided from the fiery pits into the loving arms of some father figure. They believe that they are judged by their deeds in this life, and therefore try to make sure that they tick all the necessary boxes to ensure that they do not burn for all eternity.”
Hope unfolds his legs and stretches them out in front of him, as his hands find a resting place behind his back. He supports himself as he leans back slightly, then crosses his feet together.
|Hope| “I tried that whole God thing. I did. Not a lot of people know about me, or my life, and that's exactly the way I like it. Sure, they know some things I have done in the past, some things that have made it out into public knowledge...but they don't know that I was once someone who tried very hard to chase that salvation. I was a troubled kid...very troubled. I didn't really have a father figure. Sure, I had foster parents, but 'Dad' left a little while after I arrived into the family. So, I went out. I drank. I did drugs. I got a girl pregnant. But I wasn't happy doing this. I was angry. I was disenfranchised, abandoned, and confused. So, one day when I was out on the road, trying to escape that life I weaved for myself, I saw a church. A little run down thing in a small town. A little part of me was so tired of being angry that I stepped through those doors, I fell to my knees and I asked for help. I asked...and asked...and asked... Apparently, God was too busy to get back to me, though. I never gained anything by asking for help. I never had some sort of divine intervention to put me on a respectable path. No. To me, it felt like God just didn't have time for me. He thought that I wasn't important enough for him. Sure, the priest came to me after a few hours, offered me a place to stay for a night, but I was so pissed off that I broke his nose. You'll find that abandonment does funny things to you like that.”
Hope tightens and loosens up his fists repeatedly, before dragging his fingers through his hair.
|Hope| “So, I figured if I didn't get an answer from upstairs, maybe I should try the guy downstairs. I sat in some alley one night with a bottle of stolen gin and I said to myself that I needed some guidance. I invited some Lord of dark forces to help me or whatever. I figured hey, God doesn't care. Maybe the Devil will. I sat there, repeating my call until I fell asleep, with that bottle in my hand. In my dreams, I was visited by some malevolent force. It was a feeling that I'd never experienced before. He was confident and welcoming, with an undertone of great menace. He reminded me of one of those debt collectors who was nice up until you missed that first payment, and he tried to break your legs. I say 'tried', because no debt collector never managed to go beyond trying when I stuck a pair of scissors through their forearm. Anyway, he sat beside me in that alley, and told me that he was here to save me. He told me that he'd be a father to me, that he'd lead me to glory, fame and fortune. He told me everything that my teenage heart and mind wanted to hear at that time, and I ate it up like it was ambrosia. I hung by his every word, right until he stopped and had me asking for more. I asked him how I could get all these things he promised me. I asked what I needed to do, and all he said was this:
“Give your heart and mind to me. Embrace me as your leader, and I will set you free. I will fill the emptiness in your heart with divine glory and power, and all you have to do is swear yourself to me.”
I thought about it for a while. I sat and considered my options and alternatives. It sounded great. Perfect, in fact. But something bothered me...”
Robert slowly pulls himself to his feet, staggering a little bit as he ascends. He reaches down to a glass just off camera and takes a swig, before letting it slip from his fingers and onto the floor with a crash.
|Hope| “I looked that man in the eye and I said plainly...
“Are you the devil? Did you come here to answer my calls for help?”
He sat there, and with a grin he said:
“Robert, I'm whoever you need me to be. I can be your father, your friend, your lover, whatever you want. All you need to do...is swear your heart and mind to me.”
I felt a little...tinge of something. I don't know... It felt... It felt like rebellion. How DARE this man tell me what to do? How dare he order me to give him anything? I turned to look that man square in the face, and I said to him:
“Don't you know who the hell I am? I'm Robert Michael Anthony Hopewell. How dare you tell me what to do! I live by my rules, and on my terms. I've lived 16 years in this world like this, and I'm almost certain I'll live at least another 1 more like this, too!”
I threw that bottle of gin into his face, and I beat that man to within an inch of his life. With each strike, I became more angry, but at the same time, my mind became clearer. The anxiety of fear and uncertainty melted away as I realised I only need one person telling me what to do. The way I saw it, only two people could judge me. One was dead, and the other sure as shit wasn't God. Only two people could tell me what to do. One was dead, and the other sure as shit wasn't the Devil. No. The only person left walking this Earth who judges me or tells me what to do was me. I didn't need God, I didn't need the Devil. I didn't need some pious priest helping me, I didn't need any counsellors, I didn't need friends, I didn't need my foster parents. I didn't need anyone. I'd survived this far, achieved too much and travelled too many roads to have someone take credit for it now. I woke up from that dream, I got to my feet, and I walked on.”
Hope staggers over to the camera and grabs it with two hands.
|Hope| “And that's the man you see today. I took my life in my hands, and I reached out to others who found themselves without Hope. I didn't promise heaven, I didn't demand hearts and minds...all I promised was brotherhood in the name of cause. And here we stand. The Hopeful, a band of misfit freaks that no one cared about. A band of losers who GOD! had ignored. Here we stand, on the eve of the apocalypse, as I prepare to go to war with Michaels one last time. Michaels...I am a man without regret. I am a man without the burden of judgement. I control my own destiny, and me alone. That's why you're not getting The Hopeful tonight. You're not going to be attacked by Azrael or Cerberus half way through the match. No. See this?”
Hope points at the grotesque stitched wound on his head, given to him by Michaels this past Vendetta. He then points out the wounds on his cheek, wounds that gave scars that are likely to stay with him for the rest of his life.
|Hope| “These things helped remind me of that night. They reminded me of how far I have come on my own terms. They reminded me that I am the King of the XWA, that I am Hope for the Future of this world, and that I play by my own rules. With these marks, you signed your death warrant. Nobody...NOBODY does what you did to me. Nobody comes to my house and spits at my feet without me flaying them alive. Nobody, Michaels. And that's what you'll see tonight. Imagine the crushing feeling inside you, as your former friend Kanimaniac puts you out to pasture for good. That twinge of guilt, that semblance of sorrow you felt after attacking me with that bat, that's going to be your downfall. I have no guilt. I have no empathy. I only have hatred for you. The people out there will judge me for what I do to you, Michaels. But I ain't going to Hell for it. I'm bringing you the thick waters of the apocalypse to wash you away, but I'm not riding with the Devil. Hell is in that ring tonight, and you're going to be dancing with someone worse than the Devil. I have arrived at Rome, and I'm going to burn it like Nero. I will see the great pillars of marble that hold this place up, and I will leave them as piles of ash. Tonight, I take the head of one of the great figures of this place, and I parade it around the streets on a pike as I tear the empire to the ground. Look upon my works, ye mighty and despair. I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds.
Welcome to the Apocalypse.”
The Prophet pushes the camera back, and the feed cuts out to static. |
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