Post by The Very Big Supervillains on Jun 20, 2020 13:28:07 GMT -5
Just Before Sundown
The Year MMXX
Cold lay the cruel, unabiding steel that surrounded the Abhorrent Beast. The area the Beast currently stalked was devoid of almost all humanity.
Harsh silence hung overhead, with it'd watchful eyes of solitude, almost suffocating the Beast.
The Beast marched on despite this, having gotten use to these scenarios thanks to past experiences. Lights all too bright, destination all top far away in a whirlwind of misinformation, each step another whip upon the mind that's already so weakened by the confusion surrounding The Beast.
With a determined glare, and routine steps like he's practiced oh so many times before. Even as his shoddied boots gets all the more tighter, even as his eyes get all the more overwhelmed with the vast, confusing combinations of colours which assault his eyeballs with unknown weapons of letters and destruction.
It hadn't been long since he'd made it into this labyrinth, this maze of indecipherable puzzles that threatened to tear his brain apart just from The Beast being there. He'd passed some regular homunculous as he'd entered the area, been careful to avoid their judgemental gaze.
He's not welcome here. He's a foreigner to this wretched land. If the natives found out he didn't understand them, didn't understand the maze he was currently being defeated by, they'd strike.
The Beast could show no weakness. Even the slightest ounce of doubt, the slightest ounce of fear could beckon the hoards of the unknown to converge on him. Yet The Beast was not dictated by fear.
He was a determinator. A force that was nigh on unstoppable, almost horryfyingly so. Once he had a goal in mind all one could do was offer their condolences to whatever had the misfortune of being in it's way.
And so, The Beast marches on.
Beside the blinding lights haunting him like vultures, waiting to feast on The Beast's hide the Monstrosity spots something. A sign. A famialiar sign.
No doubt placed by some improbably kind specimen in the hope of assisting similar specimens. Things like The Beast.
The Beast has naught left in him to appreciate something like that, but he acknowledges it at least. The Beast too, has what he considers a noble goal to achieve from this perilous march but he has no time to spare, no inner benevolence to assist any other than himself in his task.
What The Beast considers noble is not what other may consider even acceptable.
It matters not whether what he's doing is right.
What matters is if anybody will be able to stop him.
He herds the overhead instructions and marches forward, a longer route that the non-nomads would take.
His senses rise and his body twitches as he hears slight murmuring from the other side of the metal walls. His fists clench.
Finally he reaches his destination, but the object of his cruel gaze, the meaning behind this debauched, baseless pursuit is still missing. His eyes dart quickly among the sea of inunderstandble colours and shapes.
He understands almost nothing about this but he continues hoping, nay, expecting the prize of his journey to make itself known.
The murmurs get closer, louder. He clenched his fist as his eyes continue to dart amongst the shelves, knowing what will happen to that soul if The Beast lays his cruel, ferocious eyes upon them.
Every step can be heard now. There's 2 unknowing prey walking into his area of influence and The Beast knows that the only feeling he can spread his pain.
The knowledge of that is what fueled it's current journey. But that changes little.
If those two people take approximately 4 more steps, The Beast shall be forced at act.
The Beast's eyes continue to scour, visually devouring the entire seen in front of him, getting more urgent after every millisecond.
1 step.
The Beast continues, he tosses the confusing objects beneath trying to unearth the treasure beneath, almost crushing some due to his fear inducing strength.
2 steps.
The harsh, violent claws of The Beast lay on either side of the metals structure. Almost crushing it. His left appendage tenses, gets into the perfect position to grasp something. Wrap around it and just squeeze. Whether that be what The Beast came here for, or what the Beast may just end up doing anyway.
3 steps.
The Beast blinks, finally. Takes a deep breath. He hears the conversing duo barely even a few steps away. He let's the breath out.
4 seconds before they'd be seen the Beast's gaze is overflowed with familiarity and he all but pounced upon the thing The Beast sought after.
Then her marches away, erupting quiet, shocked gasps from the pair that seem to just about comprehend how close they where to misfortune.
The Beast marches away from where he was, far, far away. Through irritant scents, freezing colds and bustling crowds he finally makes his way back.
Back to where he was. Back to the beginning.
He's face to face to who he spotted as he started his quest.
The Beast would chuckle. Laugh at the sense of cyclic structure that's somehow manifested in his life of chaos and brutality.
He places down the prize and stares dead in the eyes of the fearful homunculous before him. The being arms itself. Rises up some unknown weapon and brings it to The Beast's object of affection.
The Beast watches as The Being stutters out.
"That'll be $3.40 sir,"
"❄︎♒︎♋︎■︎🙵⬧︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎📬︎"
The Beast drops some money and then walks out of the Walmart.
--
--
20th June 2020.
Hello guys. It's Travis Wrestler once again.
The wrestler. Travis the Wrestler. Time of change going on right now for me. The win streak's still going on, I think, but that's less of a deal now. What is a deal is this next match on Metal against Cray Mitchell and Jake Karnes.
William's already focused on Cray so I decided to focus on Jake Karnes. The Revenant. Like that movie Leonardo DiCaprio got the Oscar for. I saw a review for that movie and how the reviewer thought that whilst DiCaprio did deserve ag least one Oscar, it probably shouldn't have been for that movie.
I thought it wa interesting. I've never actually seen The Revenant. I saw this one movie that young Leonardo DiCaprio was in called The Beach or The Island. It's one of them drama movies. All's cool but then Swedish people get attacked by a Shark. That happens in a lot of movies.
Won't be happening come Metal though! Or- it might be. But the Shark will be VBS and the Swedish Fishermen will be Karnes and Mitchell!!
That was a metaphor. I used that dash to show me changing my mind and segwaying the shark thoughts to the shoot on the other wrestlers. Like, I did go off on a tangent but if you segway back to your original point I find that the flow is better.
Although me explaining that just ruined the flow. Ugh!
Having a bit of bad vibes lately. Being homeless is cool because I don't like having too much responsibility but quality of life isn't always as immense as you'd like.
It makes you wonder how a guy like my tag partner and friend William does it.
He's been wrestling for years and he's never actually owned a house or a car. He's a hobo-like as you can get. Not meaning that as an insult.
He literally spends it all on food. McDonalds or Burger Kings. Maybe a Chinese Resturant if he can find one. That's 90% of where his income goes.
Being a nomad is cool and all but I am a little bit worried about William. I've heard stories about guy being a complete, termperful jerk.
And he is that. He's as angry and disrespectful and unintelligent as you'd expect. But sometimes?
Sometimes he just doesn't say anything. No "Midgets Suck!" Or "Jake Karnes is such as Canadian Failure his Birth Certificate has an apology written on it!" you know generally disrespectful stuff, Jake Karnes isn't even Canadian, he's from Michigan. But yeah, just silence.
Kinda makes me wanna say something. Anything. Cheer him up somehow.
But I can't speak.
It all just comes out as Wingdings.
No matter what.
Mo matter what I do. It'd always just ginna be Wingdings. It's kinda tragic, honestly. I'm a little bias though. I'm pretty sure I'm the only guy who has that condition. At least in APW.
But thankfully, I found another way! Actions speak louder than words so I went to a Walmart and bought him some creepy pharaoh facepaint.
It looks kinda crappy but it matches with me. I can always just change the design. Draw a couple skulls instead. He already has a Face Tattoo so he should be cool with it.
Plus his Face Tattoo has a spelling mistake in it so I've not got much competition.
But that's proof I care, ya know?
You know. It should be you know.
It should be "you know", you know?
Heh. That was a little funny thing. Writing "you know" twice. I like a little bit of a chuckle.
But anyway, Jake Karnes and Cray Mitchell won't be able to get along properly as a tag team.
One's some guy who came back from the depths of his own destruction the other some pompous, insulting dance instructor type guy.
In case you're looking for any similarities between those two, they both suck gigantic amounts.
I mean, the lack of wiseness to destroy your OWN career has to be pretty large. And anyone who talks like Cray Mitchell talks and does, well, anything that Cray Mitchell does has to be a moron.
Based on the small impressions those two newbies have had, I'm pretty sure they aren't too smart.
Then again that's just a small impression. I can't form a (very) bigger, better impression because these guys haven't really done anything.
(I put very in brackets because that's our Tag Team name. Very Big Supervillains.)
But yeah, you're both so mediocre you've been drowning in multi man matches all of which you guys have lost pretty handedly.
You two are just kinda there.
If you two were colours you'd be greyish black and greyish white, combining your forces to make a very greyish grey.
That "very" wasn't a joke. I was just using it as a word.
And since I'm a big jerk spooky person now, I have to insult you about it. That's kinda my job.
And I like this job.
Cray Mitchell, you're so small that you are like the Rat from Ratatouille only smaller and Jake Karnes is so small that
Okay, I have ran out of insults but when I get more time I'll fill some in.
Then again I might not need to. Jake Karnes is 6 foot 5.
But that's not really enough to be spooky giants like VBS are.
VBS are cool, funny, smart, ferocious, horrifying and have never lost a single thing in life clean, ever. William has said all of that to me several times.
Is that true?
No.
Not even close really, but if William's passionate about it then I'm sure we'll just beat up whoever thinks it isn't true, anyway.
And that's gonna be you two. You two are gonna be another list of midgety, boring pairs that make up VBS' win streak.
Because if there's one thing that VBS will always do, it's beat up people that don't weigh more than 400 pounds!
...
Well, all done.
...
Feels a little off. That end bit.
Can't change it but it does feel a little weird.
Maybe it's because I acted like I was talking to them?
I doubt they're gonna read my journal. Unless I gave it to them. But I have personal stuff in here, and they'd probably just make fun of me.
Plus my AOL password's in here.
I'm gonna go now. Bye.
