Post by Deamon Cohln on Jul 12, 2006 14:54:20 GMT -5
*Deamon walks back into his hotel room and sets the tape he got on the dresser next to the TV. He hit’s the power button to the TV. He turns on the History Channel where they are showing a show about the history of the Roman Empire. He sets himself up in the armchair in the corner and relaxes. He wants to think about the match but his mind wanders about the subject on the TV. The Romans. So advanced. The had running water all over the city, the had a system of government we could only dream of. But they still couldn’t resist the aura of combat. The paraded warriors out to the battlefield in the center of the city and had them fight to the death. I guess a lot hasn’t changed, he thinks to himself.*
Deamon: Gladiators are still around. They battle not in a huge area with swords now. They are still around though. They are me, they are Bard, they are BomberJake, Soldado Fortun. They are still here. Normally, gladiators would not fight to the death. They would battle until one of them could death the death stroke. Then they’d ask the crowd. Then they’d say if he would die or not. Too bad I don’t have that common courtesy. I don’t take the time to ask anyone Bard. I will hit the death stroke the minute I get the chance. The minute I see the opening. The second you let your guard down.
*The TV shouts at him. The show has turned to a gladiator battle in the Coliseum of Rome a loud noise wakes Deamon up again. He is getting gradually more agitated that he just cannot get any rest anymore. He stands up and walks to the bathroom. He stands in front of the mirror and looks at his own face.*
Deamon: Your time is coming Deamon. Bard is only just a step to that World Title. Jake is in your reach. You will end up at the top again. Might as well gain another lesser title in the process.
*He turns on the sink and cups his hand to capture some water in his palm. He raises it and splashes it on his face. He looks at himself again as the water trickles off of his face and the droplets fall of the ends of his hair. He turns the sink off and heads back out into the main area of the hotel room. He looks at the TV again. They are talking about the Roman aqueducts now. Might be just boring enough to get him to sleep. He lays down in the bed and thinks aloud again*
Deamon: Tomorrow. One day left for me to prepare, not that it’ll take the much to prepare for Bard. The United States Title, Bard, this match. All of this. Just prongs on a ladder. Just one more step up. I don’t need them but they help. Jake is my main focus. The World Title is my main focus. But hey, if I can grab some accolades and hurt somebody on my way up might as well do it. Too bad for Bard. He had a nice career in front of him too. I’m taking over. Just like when Rome Took over Britain. I will take over, H…W…F
*And with that Deamon drifts off to sleep. His eyes close and the camera backs off of him. It goes to the TV where the credits are rolling for the show that was on. It back up and heads out the door where we can see a man in a Trifecta Trenchcoat walking down the hallway. It backs out of the hallway and out the hotel door and fades out.*
Deamon: Gladiators are still around. They battle not in a huge area with swords now. They are still around though. They are me, they are Bard, they are BomberJake, Soldado Fortun. They are still here. Normally, gladiators would not fight to the death. They would battle until one of them could death the death stroke. Then they’d ask the crowd. Then they’d say if he would die or not. Too bad I don’t have that common courtesy. I don’t take the time to ask anyone Bard. I will hit the death stroke the minute I get the chance. The minute I see the opening. The second you let your guard down.
*The TV shouts at him. The show has turned to a gladiator battle in the Coliseum of Rome a loud noise wakes Deamon up again. He is getting gradually more agitated that he just cannot get any rest anymore. He stands up and walks to the bathroom. He stands in front of the mirror and looks at his own face.*
Deamon: Your time is coming Deamon. Bard is only just a step to that World Title. Jake is in your reach. You will end up at the top again. Might as well gain another lesser title in the process.
*He turns on the sink and cups his hand to capture some water in his palm. He raises it and splashes it on his face. He looks at himself again as the water trickles off of his face and the droplets fall of the ends of his hair. He turns the sink off and heads back out into the main area of the hotel room. He looks at the TV again. They are talking about the Roman aqueducts now. Might be just boring enough to get him to sleep. He lays down in the bed and thinks aloud again*
Deamon: Tomorrow. One day left for me to prepare, not that it’ll take the much to prepare for Bard. The United States Title, Bard, this match. All of this. Just prongs on a ladder. Just one more step up. I don’t need them but they help. Jake is my main focus. The World Title is my main focus. But hey, if I can grab some accolades and hurt somebody on my way up might as well do it. Too bad for Bard. He had a nice career in front of him too. I’m taking over. Just like when Rome Took over Britain. I will take over, H…W…F
*And with that Deamon drifts off to sleep. His eyes close and the camera backs off of him. It goes to the TV where the credits are rolling for the show that was on. It back up and heads out the door where we can see a man in a Trifecta Trenchcoat walking down the hallway. It backs out of the hallway and out the hotel door and fades out.*