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Roster"Fuck you Connor, i'm an NLWF original and you're a piece of shit!"
NLWF Presents: :: NLWF.COM :: NLWF TV Events of the Past :: Televised Events of Old :: Revolution :: Revolution Role Plays
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20100408
"Fuck you Connor, i'm an NLWF original and you're a piece of shit!"
Where there are days, there are nights … Where there are joys, there are sorrows … And where there are scars, there are tortured souls! The whistle of the wind is the only sound that greats us. The moon is casting an eerie glow through the trees. Suddenly, the blade of a knife flashes into view, its tip covered in blood. The camera turns to see who’s holding the knife. In the eerie glow of the moon appears the face of a smiling Death Angel, a thin trail of blood running down his right cheek. Lotus holds the knife up and gazes at the blade, watching his own blood slowly drip down towards his hand.
Death: Blood is such a wonderful thing, don’t you think? It’s amazing to think that something so innocent looking can be so important to all of us. It’s amazing that just one tiny drop of blood can tell us so much about ourselves, whether we‘re black or white, male or female, or even if we are ill … and yet we never really understand how much it can show us about the type of person we are.
Death Angel wipes the blade of the knife on his shirt and slides it into a pouch strapped to his wrist.
Death: I detect that you don’t believe me. Allow me to explain, and I’ll use my opponent as my test subjects.
Death Angel looks up through the trees as if trying to find the right words. The moonlight glinting off the blood on his face. He reaches into a pocket and pulls out a photo.
Death: Connor O'Shannon. The man who’s genetics haven’t exactly been the kindest in the world to him. Sure he’s an intense, powerful brawler in the ring, but if he doesn’t get the job done during his matches, what’s the point of all that power?
Death Angel looks at his hands, scars covering the backs of them.
Death: But what does that have to do with his blood? Simple, his blood has made his body powerful, but it’s made his mind weak to the
glory he desires. No matter how much he yearns for the love of the fans, he knows deep down in his blood that he doesn’t deserve it because his mind is too weak to allow him to do whatever it takes to win and become accepted.
Death Angel tears the photo of Connor O'Shannon into tiny pieces and throws them in the air, the wind catching them and scattering them around in the air. Death Angel watches them dancing in the wind before reaching into his pocket and pulling out another photo.
Death: His blood has made him technical also, but that’s by his own opinion. We don’t know that for certain because he has yet to step in the ring and prove himself. I wasn’t impressed that Connor O'Shannon thinks he can win against a mad man like me.
Death Angel tilts his head to one side.
Death: Why Does Connor O'Shannon over look me in this match Why does he only think about Nick Ridicule. What if deep down in his blood and bones, he is fearful? What if, in his blood, he has always been fearful of what may happen to him?
Death Angel starts to slyly smile.
Death: But then again he should be fearful, because no matter how big and brave he thinks he is … I know better because it’s written in his blood how scared he really is. I wonder if that is going to be a premonition of what is going to happen to Connor O'Shannon during this Match … I sure hope Connor learns not to Fuck with an Angel or Nick Ridicule ever again!
Death Angel's laughter is soon halted by a strong gust of wind that seems to snap him out of his maniacal trance. Death Angel stops and listens to the wind as if hearing a voice talking to him. Death Angel slumps his shoulders and sighs.
Death: Ok, alright, I’ll get on with it. You know you used to be a lot more fun when you didn’t nag all the time.
The wind howls loudly as if answering him, blowing against him, forcing him to put his arms across his chest.
Death: Alright! Geez! Sorry! Now can I please get on with this? This is supposed to be serious! This kid intrigues me. He’s been through a lot in his short time on this Earth and it seems that has made his blood grow stronger … and that intrigues me greatly. Maybe he’s trying to lull everyone into a false sense of security? Maybe in Grand Rapids he’s going to show his true colors? All I know is, I’m going have to keep an eye on this kid, he could come and strike me at any time. He is an arrogant little prick and I believe he will do anything to get over in this company again.
Death Angel nods to himself.
Death: Well I think that example prove my point. If you look close enough at what a person says or does, you’ll see exactly what has made them that way.
Death Angel pauses for a few seconds as the wind whips around him again.
Death: I’m not being very clear, am I? Ok, look, in this world only two things are certain … We have blood and we die, right? Well it’s what we all have in our blood that affects how we feel about death. Let me try and explain this, some people are ready for death because it’s built into who they are that there is nothing they can do to stop the inevitable from happening … They are accepters, a very rare type of person.
Death Angel clears his this throat as the wind gently whistles around him.
Death: Then there are cheaters. They are the ones who either spend every penny that they have to try every available medicine to keep themselves alive or they never expose themselves to any sort of dangerous situations … and if they do find themselves in a potentially dangerous situation they try to hide away from it or make someone else do it for them. They are definitely the most common type of people because their blood makes them fearful of the unknown. Like you Connor O'Shannon.
Death Angel stops again. This time he brings his knife up towards his face. He stares intently at it for a few minutes as the wind whirls around him, whipping his hair around his face giving him an almost demented look.
Death: And then there are people like me. The ones who can see how fearful people really are and want to rid them of the blood that holds their fears, sorrows, insecurities and pains. We’re not takers, oh no. We’re bringers. Bringers of peace … bringers of light … Bringers of DEATH!
Death Angel turns and faces the camera. An eerie calm crosses his face.
Death: So when all of you fearful people realize how weak and scared your blood has made you and you decide you don’t want to live like that anymore … Come find me, I’ll quite happily drain you of your blood and rid you of your problems.
Death Angel smiles a twisted smile.
Death: Hell I’ll do it for you even if you don’t want me to. Hahaha!
Death Angel walks away into the night, but his voice still stays.
Death: Welcome to the Rebirth of a Syco!
Death Angel's voice finally fades into the whistle of the wind as the scene fades to nothing.
Death: Blood is such a wonderful thing, don’t you think? It’s amazing to think that something so innocent looking can be so important to all of us. It’s amazing that just one tiny drop of blood can tell us so much about ourselves, whether we‘re black or white, male or female, or even if we are ill … and yet we never really understand how much it can show us about the type of person we are.
Death Angel wipes the blade of the knife on his shirt and slides it into a pouch strapped to his wrist.
Death: I detect that you don’t believe me. Allow me to explain, and I’ll use my opponent as my test subjects.
Death Angel looks up through the trees as if trying to find the right words. The moonlight glinting off the blood on his face. He reaches into a pocket and pulls out a photo.
Death: Connor O'Shannon. The man who’s genetics haven’t exactly been the kindest in the world to him. Sure he’s an intense, powerful brawler in the ring, but if he doesn’t get the job done during his matches, what’s the point of all that power?
Death Angel looks at his hands, scars covering the backs of them.
Death: But what does that have to do with his blood? Simple, his blood has made his body powerful, but it’s made his mind weak to the
glory he desires. No matter how much he yearns for the love of the fans, he knows deep down in his blood that he doesn’t deserve it because his mind is too weak to allow him to do whatever it takes to win and become accepted.
Death Angel tears the photo of Connor O'Shannon into tiny pieces and throws them in the air, the wind catching them and scattering them around in the air. Death Angel watches them dancing in the wind before reaching into his pocket and pulling out another photo.
Death: His blood has made him technical also, but that’s by his own opinion. We don’t know that for certain because he has yet to step in the ring and prove himself. I wasn’t impressed that Connor O'Shannon thinks he can win against a mad man like me.
Death Angel tilts his head to one side.
Death: Why Does Connor O'Shannon over look me in this match Why does he only think about Nick Ridicule. What if deep down in his blood and bones, he is fearful? What if, in his blood, he has always been fearful of what may happen to him?
Death Angel starts to slyly smile.
Death: But then again he should be fearful, because no matter how big and brave he thinks he is … I know better because it’s written in his blood how scared he really is. I wonder if that is going to be a premonition of what is going to happen to Connor O'Shannon during this Match … I sure hope Connor learns not to Fuck with an Angel or Nick Ridicule ever again!
Death Angel's laughter is soon halted by a strong gust of wind that seems to snap him out of his maniacal trance. Death Angel stops and listens to the wind as if hearing a voice talking to him. Death Angel slumps his shoulders and sighs.
Death: Ok, alright, I’ll get on with it. You know you used to be a lot more fun when you didn’t nag all the time.
The wind howls loudly as if answering him, blowing against him, forcing him to put his arms across his chest.
Death: Alright! Geez! Sorry! Now can I please get on with this? This is supposed to be serious! This kid intrigues me. He’s been through a lot in his short time on this Earth and it seems that has made his blood grow stronger … and that intrigues me greatly. Maybe he’s trying to lull everyone into a false sense of security? Maybe in Grand Rapids he’s going to show his true colors? All I know is, I’m going have to keep an eye on this kid, he could come and strike me at any time. He is an arrogant little prick and I believe he will do anything to get over in this company again.
Death Angel nods to himself.
Death: Well I think that example prove my point. If you look close enough at what a person says or does, you’ll see exactly what has made them that way.
Death Angel pauses for a few seconds as the wind whips around him again.
Death: I’m not being very clear, am I? Ok, look, in this world only two things are certain … We have blood and we die, right? Well it’s what we all have in our blood that affects how we feel about death. Let me try and explain this, some people are ready for death because it’s built into who they are that there is nothing they can do to stop the inevitable from happening … They are accepters, a very rare type of person.
Death Angel clears his this throat as the wind gently whistles around him.
Death: Then there are cheaters. They are the ones who either spend every penny that they have to try every available medicine to keep themselves alive or they never expose themselves to any sort of dangerous situations … and if they do find themselves in a potentially dangerous situation they try to hide away from it or make someone else do it for them. They are definitely the most common type of people because their blood makes them fearful of the unknown. Like you Connor O'Shannon.
Death Angel stops again. This time he brings his knife up towards his face. He stares intently at it for a few minutes as the wind whirls around him, whipping his hair around his face giving him an almost demented look.
Death: And then there are people like me. The ones who can see how fearful people really are and want to rid them of the blood that holds their fears, sorrows, insecurities and pains. We’re not takers, oh no. We’re bringers. Bringers of peace … bringers of light … Bringers of DEATH!
Death Angel turns and faces the camera. An eerie calm crosses his face.
Death: So when all of you fearful people realize how weak and scared your blood has made you and you decide you don’t want to live like that anymore … Come find me, I’ll quite happily drain you of your blood and rid you of your problems.
Death Angel smiles a twisted smile.
Death: Hell I’ll do it for you even if you don’t want me to. Hahaha!
Death Angel walks away into the night, but his voice still stays.
Death: Welcome to the Rebirth of a Syco!
Death Angel's voice finally fades into the whistle of the wind as the scene fades to nothing.
Death-Angel- Immortal
-
Zodiac :
Location : In your Nightmares
Number of posts : 424
No Limit Wrestling Federation Info
NLWF Record: 27-28-04
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