Post by Silver Eagle on Aug 2, 2017 1:16:05 GMT
She's just a girl and she's on fire
Hotter than a fantasy, lonely like a highway
She's living in a world and it's on fire
Feeling the catastrophe, but she knows she can fly away
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On the fabled walls of Phoenix, men and women alike beat giant drums to herald her coming, while others blew the most unusual horns that encircled their bodies like great iron serpents. The sounds they played were violent and wonderful, terrifying and majestic, welcoming this foreign stranger as if she was one of their own, her hair a mixture of glistening gold and molten fire. A column of faceless warriors, iron clad with no features or voices emerged from the underground as her honor guards, tridents in hand with feet drenched in murky seaweed, their stallions not living nor dead. These faceless knights wore scaled iron armor, their muscles carved out of granite and helms with long forked tongues, slivering and crimson. Behind them dragged long sunburst plumes of fabric, rich and decadent and they sat high upon their leather saddles inlaid with emeralds and aquamarines. There was a silent roar that startled her, her heterochromia afflicted eyes dancing left and right.
“Phoenix could well be the greatest city that ever was or ever will be,” her Papa had told her, riding next to her and shrouded in nothing but night, an invisible assistant, a whisperer in the darkness that only she could hear and she could see. “It was once the centre of the world, the north and the south, the east and the west, the great beyond of this entire world, bringing the most ancient and violent memories of man, the bloody entertainment and magnificent battles that attracted the common folk and nobility alike. The eyes of the world gazed upon Phoenix and everything they ever saw thereafter looked worthless in comparison.”
Anastasia took the ethereal Piper’s words and drank them deep like the finest and richest of ruby wines. “And once upon a time it all fell apart, the city was deserted and all that once danced the battlements waltzed away into the sunset. But the magnificence of the great city was not to be forgotten, and one day it was re-forged in iron and blood. Names flocked, pain was brought and the glorious days of old were returned to this place.” He smiled with crooked fangs, broken and yellow, warped beyond what she remembered them as. “And this is why you came. This is why you returned.” She looked up to the four thick walls that encircled the City of PW, fiery birds carved into the stonework. The outer wall was red sandstone that only gave the engravings more life, fifty feet high at least and decorated with yet more monstrous birds of the inferno, torches of very real flame decorating the battlements as endless watchers on peered down on her from above.
The outer gates were banded with bronze coated spears, the middle with iron crowns; the innermost were studded with golden and crimson eyes, lidless and never closing. All opened at Anastasia’s approach, as she was carried upon a chariot of pearl and feathers, wheels turning as they were gently tugged along by two pegasus who were frightened to take flight due to spikes that clung to the ceiling of the castle, each impaled with a pale woman’s head, a reminder to all those that tried to flee before. Anastasia peered up at these heads, wondering if actions and reactions she herself took were the reason those heads were up there. And she didn’t care if they were. That was the part that worried her. That was the part that made Papa smile.
The bloodthirsty crowds cheered as she was carried into this place, her delicate fingers brushing through her uncustomary coloured hair, before intriguing her and puzzling her as sparks of flame pranced about her, drawing the adoration and fear of the audience. The crowds gathered all the colours of the world around her; banners of rainbow and sunbursts being waved in the midday sky, clear and cloudless. In one corner there were shades of rose and violet, a feverish dream of bloodshed that her dear Papa tried to guide her towards, leading under a bronze arch fashioned in the likeness of three snakes swallowing each other’s tails, the endless cycle of uroborus with their winter scales, delicate flakes of cream and obsidian. Four great towers stood taller than any she had ever seen, the four corners tied by chain ropes that entrapped the entire city, electricity pulsing through them like lightning bolts, making the whole city an electric colosseum ripe for battle.
The people lined the streets and watched from balconies of marble and stone, showering her with flower petals, lilies of white and yellow and tarnished red. Her dress was awash with flame like her hair, a strap covering her right shoulder where a baby Phoenix sat, nibbling on seed that she held in her hand, her left strap non existent as a single breast was exposed to the roasting sunlight. The onlookers were forever watching as she was carried down the centre of the open street paved with golden brick, where the city’s current and legendary heroes stood upon columns of crimson and green marble, a thousand brightly coloured songbirds flying out from behind them in her honour. She gazed upon the figures, beautifully carved and so lifelike that they moved. “So many faces,” she whispered.
The statue of the Queen of the Crossroads came first, adorned with cloth of purple and a garden of violets growing about her, inverted crucifixes with messaging of hope and fear sketched upon them, and upwards a heaving chest that could feed the five thousand who gathered here today. Anastasia peered up at the statue, looking up into it’s eyes with a mixture of regret, adoration, anger and turmoil. “It should have been you,” her Papa whispered through broken lips and broken teeth, yet his voice as cool and calm as the wind. “I did warn you they would bring the Other, I warned you they would take the spot you wanted, and soon they will come for all you treasure.” She peered at the baby Phoenix rising from her shoulder, making eye contact with the blazing bird of prey. She tried to ignore her father’s musings as they went on. The Other wouldn’t do that. Would they? No… Her mind was conflicted and torn, yet filled with love and affection for the everything they brought to her. Love. Affection. Hope. But these words were just… words? Were they?
The Blood of Japan came next, a boot in the air creating another archway for her to path through, a waterfall of cornell fluid leaking from it’s eyes and maw. “You are above him yet below him, why was he allowed to scale such heights whilst your wings were held down? Why do they cage you and the man you defeated allowed to soar so high?” He was corrupting and leading her once more. She knew this figure of violence and bloodshed had earned his spot on this parade of fame and glory, but had she not? Had she not deserved what he had for all she had done? And then the Valiant one, the statue crumbling away but still somehow standing. She had knocked this one down too, but it was afforded not one, but two chances to take the iron crown that was waiting in the palace of flame. “They only select what cannot affect,” Papa whispered. “They let him choose so he won’t lose.”
She looked past this statue and to on to the gleaming palace of flame, ferocious torches billowing blasts of fire skyward, the eternal staircase of stone and rock, spiralling upwards as twin seas of salt water and lava rolled downwards to the ground below, down to the caverns that this city of battle and terror was built upon. The carriage stopped as her spirit guide helped her down, the Phoenix on her shoulder screeching as it gazed upon the thirty foot poster of the man who wore the Iron Crown. “And within is your king,” he said.
“He’s not my king,” she defiantly repeated, taking a step towards the palace. “He will never be my king. A fake king with a fake crown,” but as she took another step, a single hand guided her away, reminding her that it was not her time to take that final walk to the palace above, and her quest still lay on the fields below. She followed her guide, taking another look upon the palace. How could she hope to overthrow such men and their obsession with controlling who could and could not make the climb? She had crossed wastelands and battled cyclops and behemoths and monsters of all kinds on land and sea and air, and yet still she was held back. Held back to where she was being led now. She cradled her flaming bird like a baby, darkness taking hold and her pet being the only light there was. One last statue was there, cracked and crumbling, weathered and worn, workmen tugging too and fro, unsure whether to drag it to stand with the others or move it towards the exit to be hurled from the city itself. Surrounding it was an ocean of dead ducks, consumed by the poison that surrounded it’s every being, eyes and beak black like soot and blood neon and unnatural.. Anastasia looked on, knowing that this path, the one she had followed before was the one she would have to follow. And this time, this time she would have to make her statement more violent and bloody than before. “He is a fool, and fools believe in foolish things. The fact he believes he belongs here is the biggest joke of them all.” She looked upon her Papa, then back to the statue, the fires of hell burning in her eyes as wings of flame burst forth from her back. “I will burn the fools, burn the statues and burn the palace to the ground. Then I will take the crown and melt it down into my own image.” She gazed upon the Phoenix which rested once more on her shoulder. “I am you and you are me,” she whispered, before turning back towards the statue of the Seattle Saint. “Burn them all…”
Papa couldn’t have been more proud.
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Looks like a girl, but she's a flame
So bright, she can burn your eyes
Better look the other way
You can try but you'll never forget her name
She's on top of the world
Hottest of the hottest girls say
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It’s just a little history repeating.
We’ve been here before, haven’t we? The pair of us, ready to do battle for the prize that I so treasure. The prize I gave my everything to gain, the prize I gave my everything to defend, the prize that broke everything when the clock ran out on me. It’s the prize I gave everything to get back, the prize I gave everything to eventually win back and the prize that I earned for avenging what was done to me. My prize.
MINE!
This Rising Phoenix belt is the most valuable title belt I have ever held. It means the world to me, and although it may sound a little selfish, I look upon it as the biggest prize in all of Phoenix Wrestling. Now, some may look at me a little weird when I say that, you know, because of the Rebirth Championship and all, but I have my reasons. The matches for my title are the most fierce and frantic, due to the ruling they are thunderously paced, the slight hint of desperation and those that face me go to lengths they never thought possible in order to attain victory. It’s like the most unusual cake recipe, finished off with an intoxicating aftertaste like a kick in the face, a texture that leaves you broken yet wanting more and a filling both rich and rewarding but painfully bitter to swallow. It’s one of the reasons why I love this title so much. Plus it’s pretty.
And MINE!
I’ve been doing an awful lot in the wrestling industry as of late. I emerged in the Underground, quickly making a name for myself on the Outcast brand of Hard Knox, having quite the run in the biggest match in wrestling history, The Gauntlet, becoming the company’s Iron Woman in the process. I beat two champions AND Alexa Corra. Wow, it still feels weird saying that, especially how dominant she has been in this industry over the last few years. Back over in my other home in England, I became the Ironwoman of SSWA, I finally got my revenge over Seren Beyer, and before that CruZe, two people who have been the bane of my existence for the better part of a year. The former pushed me so far that I had to go to extreme lengths. Never let it be said that if you mess with the Rising Phoenix you’ll end up getting burnt. And get burnt she did.
BURN!
I like fire…
But leading on from that, I can finally stake my claim for a shot at the SSWA World Title, cashing in my shot after winning the most prestigious all female tournament in the world, the Queen of the Mountain. I’ve been rising up and up and up and now there is no stopping this Little Songbird.
And my opponent… has walked out on a company and has been pretending to be a duck on Twitter.
There is just a teeny, tiny little bit of a difference when you make the comparison between what we have been up to lately, isn’t there. I mean, look at what I have just mentioned, I’ve gone through those things since we faced on the 17th of April. And you have...?
Quack?
You may think that I am disrespecting you right now, Finn, what with me undermining your own accomplishments, the effort you have put in to get your rematch, the trials and tribulations you’ve had to go through to pick yourself up from the floor. Everything you put yourself through to give yourself one last chance, one last try to climb back on that horse and march into battle to face me. One last go at taking the title from me. And through everything you went through to get that shot, everything you did to attain it, everything you… Yeah, I’m disrespecting you. Fully, and without question. Because my view on you has not changed one bit since we last faced, and whilst last time you gave me your all, you still did not have enough to take the title from me. And you won’t this time either.
I’ve become more skilled, I’ve become faster, I’ve become more deadly and I’m doing things in that ring that I never knew I was able to do. My weaknesses have now become strengths, my strengths have become your weaknesses and there is not one single person in this entire industry that I feel can stop me. Call me egotistical, call me shallow, but I am in the business to now be the very best that there has been. I’m not along for the ride any more. I’m not here to simply see if I can do something, achieve something, win something. I am here to do, here to achieve, here to win. And I will do that by any means necessary.
I’m also gonna do it with these really cool new boots I bought! They have these phoenix shaped sequin thingies on them with flames up the sides, the studs are so shiny and they are just AMAZINGNESS. Oh my gosh, I can’t wait for people to see them.
Ahem.
I dunno Finn, you’ve kinda become bitter since I beat you. You’ve been pandering to certain crowds, irritated entire companies and rosters, pretending to be a fucking duck who “job job jobs”. It might be something that amuses you, keeps you going and you simply don’t care what other people think. That’s your choice. But while you might want to laugh and joke and sing on the Twitter machine, I’m all business. And my business is the Rising Phoenix title, and if you get in the way of my business, I put you out of business. It’s quite simple. So have your fun, have your games and be a man and take the blame yourself when you can’t get the job done. Because you’ve took the path to face someone who just can’t overcome. And your mindset leading into this match has given me extra fuel that I am just so, so, so… excited to ignite into the biggest firestorm that Phoenix has ever seen.
You have ten minutes, Finn. That is the rule, that is the time limit. And within those ten minutes you will feel pain, regret, anxiousness and defeat. Because I am fluttering in with my Rising Phoenix title, and I’m flying out with it as well. I don’t care what you think, what you do or what you say once this is all said and done. My belt.
MINE!
Face the Phoenix and get burnt.
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Everybody stares, as she goes by
'Cause they can see the flame that's in her eyes
Watch her when she's lighting up the night
Nobody knows that she's a lonely girl
And it's a lonely world
But she gon' let it burn, baby, burn, baby
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This girl is on fire...
