Post by Persephone on Sept 9, 2019 18:38:25 GMT -5
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The official website for Trinity Wrestling is experiencing some technical difficulties at the present time; we would like to deeply apologise for these issues and promise that we will try and get the site up and running as soon as possible.
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You may want to try again later.
The official website for Trinity Wrestling is experiencing some technical difficulties at the present time; we would like to deeply apologise for these issues and promise that we will try and get the site up and running as soon as possible.
If you would like to contact Trinity media team, to gain a better understanding of what may be causing this, please click on the link below.
The computer screen fizzes uncontrollably as you click on the link provided. At first, the trust you once felt for the company that told you to do so, was hanging in the balance as the screen now cuts to black. A laugh can be heard echoing from the speakers, bellowing out with a sick, baritone echo. Whatever is happening, it is not planned, it is not expected, and it is certainly not welcome. In the background is the noise of dripping, the constant dripping of a lifeless water supply that leaks its way out of a nearby pipe and plunges onto the ground below; however, there is still no image to accompany this. The sound of breathing replaces the laughter soon, an exciting pace of breathing but yet slow and controlled; it begins to speak.
"Is it... CURIOSITY.. that leads to the destruction of most... naive... men?"
The picture slowly comes to. Colour inhabits the screen, shades of red, black and grey are all present at first, but soon they begin to gush into each other as the focus sharpens revealing the image of Persephone. The background explains the dripping; it seems to be a basement or a maintenance room of some sort, one that has not been inhabited for quite some time. The perfect home for a group of outcasts, the perfect home for someone who doesn't intend to be found. Overly colourful attire, frilly skirt and rainbow shaded lensless glasses blackened eyes and a glazed over blank expression. She smiles for a short second giggling, and flailing her hand at the screen as if to say "Gotcha!" amused at the trick she just pulled on everyone watching...and then like someone just threw a switch in her brain her blank canvas of a face returned as she silently stared out at the screen. Showing no signs of what she would happen to be thinking of. An enigma if ever one could see, is the mind of a haven member, she opens her mouth for a second, but no words come; instead, she closes it again and turns around to view her surroundings hoping that the viewer could soak up this atmosphere too. Then, when she feels ready, she would elaborate on his first sentence, the sentence which obviously was emitted from her lips despite the previous darkness that had engulfed the scene.
"At the start of 1941, things were going rather swimmingly for Mr Hitler," she began, somewhat out of the blue. She stood alone, as you might expect, she spoke slowly and with purpose, the scene entirely stationary for the duration of her monologue but for the deliberate, methodical movements of her lips. This was no time for frills. No extravagant, metaphorical orchestras or sunsets by way of foreshadowing. All she needed was her voice.
"Mr Hitler was progressing nicely through Central Europe, his domain now encompassing Belgium, Austria, Poland… the list goes on... His borders ran from the large swathes of French land he'd captured, all the way to Stalin's Soviet Union. He'd made many enemies, but friends still existed. In the south was Mr Mussolini, and in the Far East Emperor Hirohito was poised to enter the fray. Mr Hitler knew the importance of such men, even if he didn't care for their characteristics. What he underestimated was the benefits of neutrality. You see, closer to home, Mr Stalin and his red army had pledged non-aggression with the Germans. It was a necessary evil. Without the reds involved, Mr Hitler was free to run rough-shot over the rest of Europe, planting his flag in whichever bit of land he liked that day. "But then came Operation Barbarossa, and German boots roared over almost three thousand kilometres of Soviet border. But Mr Hitler wasn't prepared for the war of attrition that Mr Stalin inflicted on them, and in time he was beaten back. And that isn't even the biggest flaw in the plan. With the Soviets' hand forced, they entered the wider war on the side of the Allies. Germany was slowly stretched over too much-disputed land, distracted them from their efforts in the West and obliging them to fight upon two fronts. In time – and it did take time – he was defeated, and Barbarossa's shadow lay over his grave."
Here, she allowed herself a brief pause, but the sudden movement was still unnecessary. She slowly adjusted her elbow pads slightly, pulling the black material into position over the joint.
"Lessons are learned not from the successes of history, tulips, but from the mistakes. Take the last few weeks, for instance, when I defeat wrestlers...I simply do so and move on but when it came time for my rematch -Like Duncan Aries received- Aries vision became blurred, obscured by an underlying sense of injustice and a tantrum thrown in repeated failure. He has lashed out in every direction at once, and now? He finds himself surrounded.
In a bizarre moment, Persephone suddenly jumps to the side, and her body language totally changes her voice turning more high pitched, childish and suddenly more American.
"WOAH WOAH! SLOW YOUR ROLL GIRL FRIEND" ARE YOU COMPARING DUNCAN ARIES TO HITLER, DAMN GURL. THAT'S INTENSE
Persephone jumps right back to her original position, and her original personality and speaks like she's answering herself
"No, I guess it's nice for the Darling to have aspirations. But at The Big Time Duncan could have quite easily been staring across the ring at myself, without a care in the world for the rest of the arena. Now? There are four others he must stare at too, each with their own ambitions and their own grievances with him….surrounded by foes….
She sighs to herself, pausing thoughtfully.
In one direction we have: Solomon Graham … is a man capable of viewing himself only through the prism of legacy. He has defined himself by a name that he did nothing to forge… and by the accomplishments of his father But in that legacy, Solomon sees his opportunity to defy Haven He may believe that, like his father, he can forge a name for himself that will echo out across eternity. He may believe that he can climb even greater heights because he is elevated by the bonds of family., I know the thoughts that wake you in the dead of night. I know the fear that grips, that gnaws at your heart. You know that alone… you can't achieve the task that you have set yourself. You, perhaps alone. No matter what you do… your father will always be the favoured. You are risking everything in service to a cause that can not avail you, and in the end? At the big time, you will pay for it. You will reach for the belt but all you will find ...is dust.
Meanwhile, few can boast the kind of start that at BJB has enjoyed; a man, who had yet to taste the bitter sting of defeat but his survival is temporary. He knows - or he will soon learn - that his successes have done nothing more than delay what is an inevitable demise. He, just like each and every other man who steps into that ring… is a slave of time. At the big time, he will be no different, toiling against the clock to become the one who achieves his dream. But in the end, I will ensure that it becomes a nightmare. In the end, I will lift back the veil of his denial, and I will reveal the full horror of the fate that awaits him. And then I will bury him in his hypocrisy. Because you don't fool me, Ben. I hear your noble assertion that you have come to Trinityto seek perfection, yet in each and every action you betray the deceit of this proclamation. You are a man who respects nothing; you can spit in defiance of an authority that you don't recognise. All your life, you have dedicated yourself to the accrual of material gain. In wealth… and women… and fame, you have blocked out the ticking of the clock. But now? Now that ticking grows louder, doesn't it? Now you know that your fate cannot be long denied. The wine turns to vinegar in your mouth… and the money to ash in your hand, and nothing that you thought you stood for can console you in the depths of your despair. For you more than anybody else, I believe that the ladder match will be a release that you crave; a release from the lies that you have found your name upon, a release from the paradox in which you are trapped, and a release from the world which no longer satiates a lust for material gain than even your brilliance cannot match. the only material you need concern yourself with… is the dirt beneath which you will be put to rest as you look at me with the tv title above my head
"Many will fight for a cause they believe in, and while their efforts are ultimately doomed to fail… there is purity in even the most misguided of their attempts to achieve the impossible. But there are others… who will not fight at all? Men… like Parsa ."
She looks back to the camera, a look of distaste evident in her face before he spoke another word.
Parsa… unique among all of those who will enter the ladder match… His method of ensuring survival is the most corrosive of all because Parsa has surrendered himself to the most deadly of sins: pride. I have sensed his rising incredulity at being confronted by the world that did not bend to his whim or offer him a shortcut to the success to which he believes that his brilliance entitles him. For men like Parsa, there is no responsibility, and there is no accountability. There is neither duty nor honour. There is only… the self. Parsa alone among us is not concerned by his mortality because his pride has blinded him to the vulnerability of his position. His pride has destroyed the ability to understand and empathise with the world around him. And now? His pride has led him down a road which he will be immensely sorry that he embarked upon. Because mortality does not have an obligation to respect you, Haven does not concern itself with your size or achievements. One by one, each and every mortal man will be judged on the scale, and it is only their soul which will determine their fate. I… am that scale. And I will measure Parsa, and I will find his soul to be unworthy of the opportunity that he has been given. I will find it… him… to be unworthy."
"Soon... I will begin Haven's work of rebuilding the world around me. Five will come to the ring, and they will become the foundation upon which Haven's kingdom is founded. They will become… a symbol of the fate of any man who opposes Haven.… Time will be the undoing of my enemies, and I will prove that it is I… and not them… who truly holds dominion I will show that it is I who is the master now. And I will prove that I… am the next TV champion