Post by Finn Whelan on Jul 5, 2017 4:00:40 GMT
[forgive noncoding]
Veronica Valiant.
When was the last time this chick did something . . . useful? For weeks and weeks, she lost. And lost. And all of a sudden, she gets a match against Cassius Reed. Guess what happened then? I'll give you a second. If you guessed she lost that one too, well then, you just won one hundred percent of this quick little assessment. Given shot after shot, after shot, after shot, but can't seem to capitalize. But when you're faced against the upper echelon that have created Phoenix to be the great stomping ground it is, what else could you expect?
I guess I can't say I'm much better. Twice placed in an opportunity earned, twice failed. I knew we were never going back to face off for tag titles, but I never thought I'd have to fight through Phoenix’s trash to get back to where I was after the loss. My loss to Anastasia Starling was on me, but I was at least able to show that I was capable of going toe to toe with Rising Phoenix champion.
I was capable of standing toe to toe with Phoenix’s most vicious, uncaring competitor in Mason Daniels.
I was capable of dropping Frankie Starlight, even after he brought out those brass knuckles.
And it pisses off people, apparently, that I can do that. It pisses them off to the point that they and their little friends have to jump me after wins, in the back, and try to shut me down by shitty ass methods because they couldn't do it within the ring. Is that seriously the direction in which this sport is heading? Cheap shots, sneak attacks, bullshit? Or was I blind to it before?
Or is it really just the fact that people are starting to realize that to shut me down, it's going to take arrogance and trash tactics? I try to respect every competitor in the back, but it’s beginning to thin out the ones that actually deserve it. You could come in and say that Phoenix is lacking true competitors, but riddle me this, Batman: Who is actually in the competition? Is it the new stars? Or is it Phoenix’s old contenders?
They're not here to give it away to the new gen-- they're here to win and destroy, to prove their grasp upon this sport. I'm not here to conquer. I'm here to join the ranks. My goal remains the same: Anastasia Starling versus Finn Whelan, round two, Rising Phoenix championship. And if I have to go through more of Phoenix’s trash to get there, then throw ‘em at me. One. By. One. I'll put out my best foot forward, and do what I came here to do.
Veronica is just like Frankie Starlight. Veronica is just like Mason Daniels. Veronica is just like Seth Iser, and every other competitor I've squashed. Big talk, no game. If Johnny Rebel thinks that a match should be made based off of a squabble, then fine.
Just don't forget that I’m not working like a hellion to be trolling with the trash.
----
July 4th, 2017
Pike National Forest, Cheyenne Canyon, Colorado
“Jesus Christ.”
Finn stopped and turned his head to glance behind him. It was a warm day in Colorado today, and like many of the other citizens of the state, he was hiking. The trails in Cheyenne Canyon, surprisingly, were not completely overrun with people though, and Finn and his compadre were the only two on this particular trail. He placed his hands on his hips, looking down the small hill.
“How the fuck do you do this every other day?”
Maxwell Payton, twenty-eight, liked to act like he was tough as hell. He was one of those people that was constantly in the gym, and had the muscles to prove it. He ran a hand through his tied-up hair, sweat making his tank stick to him like glue. He leaned down on his knees, exhaling.
Finn shrugged, a smirk on his face. “Conditioned for it, I guess.”
“You? Conditioned” Max scoffed. “Skinny fuck like you ain't conditioned.”
“Oh yeah? And tell me, Captain Trailkiller: are the winners of American Ninja Warrior bulked to all hell?”
Max looked at him, narrowing his eyes. “What are you implying?”
“I'm implying the simple fact that when you're doing something as cardio driven as hiking, which gets your heart rate up faster than even the shit you do before your workouts, allows you to do more than bulked-out muscle.”
“You lift bro?”
“No.” He snorted, and held up his arms, flexing -- there was muscle, but not much. “And I don't need to. I'll keep my skinny, cardio-built ass, thank you very much.”
He turned then, deciding that Max had enough time resting, and began the trek up the side of the mountain once more.
“I still can't believe you're a wrestler.” Max replied, just as he took a gulp from his canteen.
“Neither can anyone else, apparently.”
“It's just weird, dude.” He stumbled over a rock Finn had just passed. “You look like this dude that wouldn't squish a bug, and you're now telling me you flatten people for a living?”
“It comes and it goes. Win some, lose some. There are always going to be better people out there, but I'm working my way up the ranks.” Max stops again, and Finn groans. “Dude.”
“I just can't imagine it.”
“Look, it honestly doesn't take much. Eighty-five percent of the companies I’m in take me one-hundred-percent lightly, and they've been kicked in the teeth so many times. I've taken down veterans of eleven years. I've destroyed long careers. To put me last is to piss me off, because honestly, I'm not. I wouldn't be headed for a top-tier championship in one company, and on my way to another in a different one, if I was. Everything I do, I earn. Not everyone else can say the same.”
“Well I mean, I've watched Phoenix on Dailymotion. What are you going to do without Elena behind your back.”
Finn turns around and crosses his arms. The fact that he had no one to back him up anymore, well . . . it wasn't a comfortable feeling. But he'd been in worse. Worse with his opposite life, due to his affiliation with Kei.
“I started without Elena, I'll continue without her. I may not have someone to have my back, but . . .”
He shrugged, looking up at the sky.
“I can handle my own battles.”
---
“Every single one of you point out my stature as if it means something. Every single one of you try to flay me with trash talk and ill-suited attempts to sound charismatic and gruff.”
We find ourselves at the summit of that climb. It’s now late in the sky, and sunset has just begun to fall along the opposite ridge in the mountains. Finn sits on a boulder, his knees apart, and his back slumped as he looks off into the darkening sky.
“Tell me: for those of you who have faced off against me, how has your posturing benefitted you? Did you get to capitalize? Did you win? No. I didn't think so. The first error you all make is that you underestimate the shit out of me. And Veronica, you're not any different.”
“Valiant -- it means something along the lines of showing or possessing courage. Courage is the ability to face your trials head on, noble and brave of heart, while understanding that there could be loss on the opposite end. Brave. Courageous. Valiant. Ask yourself this, Veronica . . . are you truly actually valiant? Sure. Perhaps you possess the courage to step forward and ‘do what must be done’, but I have a problem believing that when you do things such as pushing Seth Black down the stairs because he didn't give you what you wanted. I have a problem believing that when you walked out on your partners when you didn't get your little way. And I have a problem believing that when your first instinct is to rip my face off for interrupting you.”
He shrugs then.
“Do you think that if you become more aggressive and bitchy that you’ll suddenly start winning? That the powers that be will suddenly get behind you, and help you gain glory over those who are so much more mediocre than you? What's your record in Phoenix, Veronica the Vapid? Loss, loss, loss, loss . . . I can't remember the last time you won. Do you think that describing me as an average opponent helps you to look better? Because sweetheart, let me inform you . . .”
Finn leans forward, as if letting her in on a secret. “If I'm mediocre, then that makes you trash.”
“I may overstep my bounds here, but I think I have the respect of some of our co-workers. I get attacked week in and week out because of bruised egos, and surprisingly, I have people back me up. That's something you fail at, because you can't even be trusted to finish a match in which you're scheduled because you blow a gasket. And when those partners you have fully do not give a shit that you're gone, well . . . what does that say about you? You're weak. You're undriven. You’ve failed. Paint yourself as someone strong in your own mind, because when you step out into the ring with someone like me, holding that ego of yours far above your head where you’ll never actually reach, that image will shatter into a million pieces and you'll be left as the sorry excuse everyone knows you are. I can at least go toe-to-toe with the competitors -- you put Cassius into a sick submission and still lost.”
“No, Veronica, I may not be the definition of a wrestler, and I may seem like some Average Joe, but I fight for what I believe in. I get in that ring, I research, and I make sure that I can I have everything in my power to destroy my opponent. Do I fall short, sometimes? Yeah. We're all human. But I don't create myself a picture of something I'm not. I'm lanky, I'm skinny, but I'm fast and I've taken out people better than you. Put me into a submission, I'll break it. Try to take me out by weapon, you’ll only make me come back harder. My record shows that. Yours? Makes you look like 3MB -- a joke for the rest of us to stomp on.”
“Come Redemption, it won't be me who is begging for forgiveness. It’ll be you in a puddle of your own blood because you underestimated me. What I do in Phoenix isn't even half of what happens in my other venues, so believe me, Vapid Veronica, I'd take a few moments to spend a little more time on me instead of writing me off. I'll see you at the show, and I certainly hope you have more for me than you've shown previously. I want a match, not a pageant.”
Finn slides off the rock, reaching for the camera, but he pauses, his hand just inches from the phone. A smile rises up on his face.
“Oh, and Veronica? It's pronounced ‘Whee-lan’. It's okay. You pay attention so abysmally to everything else, I wouldn’t expect you to listen to announcers for six months either.”
[fin]
Veronica Valiant.
When was the last time this chick did something . . . useful? For weeks and weeks, she lost. And lost. And all of a sudden, she gets a match against Cassius Reed. Guess what happened then? I'll give you a second. If you guessed she lost that one too, well then, you just won one hundred percent of this quick little assessment. Given shot after shot, after shot, after shot, but can't seem to capitalize. But when you're faced against the upper echelon that have created Phoenix to be the great stomping ground it is, what else could you expect?
I guess I can't say I'm much better. Twice placed in an opportunity earned, twice failed. I knew we were never going back to face off for tag titles, but I never thought I'd have to fight through Phoenix’s trash to get back to where I was after the loss. My loss to Anastasia Starling was on me, but I was at least able to show that I was capable of going toe to toe with Rising Phoenix champion.
I was capable of standing toe to toe with Phoenix’s most vicious, uncaring competitor in Mason Daniels.
I was capable of dropping Frankie Starlight, even after he brought out those brass knuckles.
And it pisses off people, apparently, that I can do that. It pisses them off to the point that they and their little friends have to jump me after wins, in the back, and try to shut me down by shitty ass methods because they couldn't do it within the ring. Is that seriously the direction in which this sport is heading? Cheap shots, sneak attacks, bullshit? Or was I blind to it before?
Or is it really just the fact that people are starting to realize that to shut me down, it's going to take arrogance and trash tactics? I try to respect every competitor in the back, but it’s beginning to thin out the ones that actually deserve it. You could come in and say that Phoenix is lacking true competitors, but riddle me this, Batman: Who is actually in the competition? Is it the new stars? Or is it Phoenix’s old contenders?
They're not here to give it away to the new gen-- they're here to win and destroy, to prove their grasp upon this sport. I'm not here to conquer. I'm here to join the ranks. My goal remains the same: Anastasia Starling versus Finn Whelan, round two, Rising Phoenix championship. And if I have to go through more of Phoenix’s trash to get there, then throw ‘em at me. One. By. One. I'll put out my best foot forward, and do what I came here to do.
Veronica is just like Frankie Starlight. Veronica is just like Mason Daniels. Veronica is just like Seth Iser, and every other competitor I've squashed. Big talk, no game. If Johnny Rebel thinks that a match should be made based off of a squabble, then fine.
Just don't forget that I’m not working like a hellion to be trolling with the trash.
----
July 4th, 2017
Pike National Forest, Cheyenne Canyon, Colorado
“Jesus Christ.”
Finn stopped and turned his head to glance behind him. It was a warm day in Colorado today, and like many of the other citizens of the state, he was hiking. The trails in Cheyenne Canyon, surprisingly, were not completely overrun with people though, and Finn and his compadre were the only two on this particular trail. He placed his hands on his hips, looking down the small hill.
“How the fuck do you do this every other day?”
Maxwell Payton, twenty-eight, liked to act like he was tough as hell. He was one of those people that was constantly in the gym, and had the muscles to prove it. He ran a hand through his tied-up hair, sweat making his tank stick to him like glue. He leaned down on his knees, exhaling.
Finn shrugged, a smirk on his face. “Conditioned for it, I guess.”
“You? Conditioned” Max scoffed. “Skinny fuck like you ain't conditioned.”
“Oh yeah? And tell me, Captain Trailkiller: are the winners of American Ninja Warrior bulked to all hell?”
Max looked at him, narrowing his eyes. “What are you implying?”
“I'm implying the simple fact that when you're doing something as cardio driven as hiking, which gets your heart rate up faster than even the shit you do before your workouts, allows you to do more than bulked-out muscle.”
“You lift bro?”
“No.” He snorted, and held up his arms, flexing -- there was muscle, but not much. “And I don't need to. I'll keep my skinny, cardio-built ass, thank you very much.”
He turned then, deciding that Max had enough time resting, and began the trek up the side of the mountain once more.
“I still can't believe you're a wrestler.” Max replied, just as he took a gulp from his canteen.
“Neither can anyone else, apparently.”
“It's just weird, dude.” He stumbled over a rock Finn had just passed. “You look like this dude that wouldn't squish a bug, and you're now telling me you flatten people for a living?”
“It comes and it goes. Win some, lose some. There are always going to be better people out there, but I'm working my way up the ranks.” Max stops again, and Finn groans. “Dude.”
“I just can't imagine it.”
“Look, it honestly doesn't take much. Eighty-five percent of the companies I’m in take me one-hundred-percent lightly, and they've been kicked in the teeth so many times. I've taken down veterans of eleven years. I've destroyed long careers. To put me last is to piss me off, because honestly, I'm not. I wouldn't be headed for a top-tier championship in one company, and on my way to another in a different one, if I was. Everything I do, I earn. Not everyone else can say the same.”
“Well I mean, I've watched Phoenix on Dailymotion. What are you going to do without Elena behind your back.”
Finn turns around and crosses his arms. The fact that he had no one to back him up anymore, well . . . it wasn't a comfortable feeling. But he'd been in worse. Worse with his opposite life, due to his affiliation with Kei.
“I started without Elena, I'll continue without her. I may not have someone to have my back, but . . .”
He shrugged, looking up at the sky.
“I can handle my own battles.”
---
“Every single one of you point out my stature as if it means something. Every single one of you try to flay me with trash talk and ill-suited attempts to sound charismatic and gruff.”
We find ourselves at the summit of that climb. It’s now late in the sky, and sunset has just begun to fall along the opposite ridge in the mountains. Finn sits on a boulder, his knees apart, and his back slumped as he looks off into the darkening sky.
“Tell me: for those of you who have faced off against me, how has your posturing benefitted you? Did you get to capitalize? Did you win? No. I didn't think so. The first error you all make is that you underestimate the shit out of me. And Veronica, you're not any different.”
“Valiant -- it means something along the lines of showing or possessing courage. Courage is the ability to face your trials head on, noble and brave of heart, while understanding that there could be loss on the opposite end. Brave. Courageous. Valiant. Ask yourself this, Veronica . . . are you truly actually valiant? Sure. Perhaps you possess the courage to step forward and ‘do what must be done’, but I have a problem believing that when you do things such as pushing Seth Black down the stairs because he didn't give you what you wanted. I have a problem believing that when you walked out on your partners when you didn't get your little way. And I have a problem believing that when your first instinct is to rip my face off for interrupting you.”
He shrugs then.
“Do you think that if you become more aggressive and bitchy that you’ll suddenly start winning? That the powers that be will suddenly get behind you, and help you gain glory over those who are so much more mediocre than you? What's your record in Phoenix, Veronica the Vapid? Loss, loss, loss, loss . . . I can't remember the last time you won. Do you think that describing me as an average opponent helps you to look better? Because sweetheart, let me inform you . . .”
Finn leans forward, as if letting her in on a secret. “If I'm mediocre, then that makes you trash.”
“I may overstep my bounds here, but I think I have the respect of some of our co-workers. I get attacked week in and week out because of bruised egos, and surprisingly, I have people back me up. That's something you fail at, because you can't even be trusted to finish a match in which you're scheduled because you blow a gasket. And when those partners you have fully do not give a shit that you're gone, well . . . what does that say about you? You're weak. You're undriven. You’ve failed. Paint yourself as someone strong in your own mind, because when you step out into the ring with someone like me, holding that ego of yours far above your head where you’ll never actually reach, that image will shatter into a million pieces and you'll be left as the sorry excuse everyone knows you are. I can at least go toe-to-toe with the competitors -- you put Cassius into a sick submission and still lost.”
“No, Veronica, I may not be the definition of a wrestler, and I may seem like some Average Joe, but I fight for what I believe in. I get in that ring, I research, and I make sure that I can I have everything in my power to destroy my opponent. Do I fall short, sometimes? Yeah. We're all human. But I don't create myself a picture of something I'm not. I'm lanky, I'm skinny, but I'm fast and I've taken out people better than you. Put me into a submission, I'll break it. Try to take me out by weapon, you’ll only make me come back harder. My record shows that. Yours? Makes you look like 3MB -- a joke for the rest of us to stomp on.”
“Come Redemption, it won't be me who is begging for forgiveness. It’ll be you in a puddle of your own blood because you underestimated me. What I do in Phoenix isn't even half of what happens in my other venues, so believe me, Vapid Veronica, I'd take a few moments to spend a little more time on me instead of writing me off. I'll see you at the show, and I certainly hope you have more for me than you've shown previously. I want a match, not a pageant.”
Finn slides off the rock, reaching for the camera, but he pauses, his hand just inches from the phone. A smile rises up on his face.
“Oh, and Veronica? It's pronounced ‘Whee-lan’. It's okay. You pay attention so abysmally to everything else, I wouldn’t expect you to listen to announcers for six months either.”
[fin]