Post by Damian K' on Apr 22, 2017 17:54:09 GMT -5
Damian K’ has never been a nice person.
Sure, he’s a lot nicer than he was before, but “nice” wouldn’t be the word to describe him. Stoic is the one that comes back to him the most. Serene is another, alongside brooding and shy, but those are stated by people that know him more. For anyone in the wrestling business, especially those who have opposed him, there are a few words that they use. Some are explicit, frankly words that are meant to incriminate or trivialize someone that they couldn’t defeat. Damian never bothered to listen too closely to their words, as they mattered not in the heat of battle. The only mouths that spoke words that stuck in his conscious were from Tara, but more closely...his family. Sometimes, their words captured his attention a little too much.
The Kaiser Dynasty, a name that to the OCW audience, probably doesn’t mean much. They have a niche audience, those who are infatuated and loyal to what they see on Massacre. It is one of the perks of being there. Drew Stevenson knows Damian closer than anyone else, having performed in the same companies together since Damian’s debut. He wouldn’t be vocal about it, as he got to know Damian’s younger siblings far more. The mouthy demon of a girl, Artemis, and the tragic figure that was Peyton. “Was” is the operative word here to Damian. Peyton still lingers around to this day, having left the wrestling industry for more...devious work. He strives to stay away from his wrestling past, but Damian remembers it fondly.
It’s the memories of Peyton’s heroic persona that brought illness to Damian throughout the past week.
Peyton stood as a hero when he first entered. By that, Peyton was not simply a good guy, no, he was a legitimate hero. It was to the point that people fashioned him as Green Lantern or something outlandish as that. He kept getting closer and closer to the World Championship, almost winning the competition that the current generation of Kaisers participated in. Who would win the first World Championship? It would be beautiful if it was the youngest brother to do so. But he failed. When he did, it was because he let go of the ruthless edge that their father had instilled in them. Damian sought to elevate his brother to higher planes, but he needed to kill this “hero” running around. With a few words, Damian did just that. His brother went on to dominate anyone that got close to him. While he didn’t get another chance to win the World Championship, he was well on his way. It was a shame that the company closed down.
Nevertheless, it all happened, the corruption of young Peyton, because of Damian’s hatred of heroes.
He pondered on the matter as he looked at the next card. The name that stood next to him caused him to furrow an eyebrow. Mark Storm, it said. Damian knew of Mark Storm, due to his involvement around the independent wrestling scene. He was everywhere, trying to make progress on his already great career. He’s a world champion, out of EWC. He heard of some of his affairs in the now defunct WARPED as well, but it didn’t pose a threat to his preparations.
The only thing that did was both his upcoming bout with Max Shade and additionally the groaning of Tara Dola. He told a look to his left, staring at the bundle of blankets that contained his girlfriend. She didn’t move the whole day, resolving to stay hidden from sight. Damian brought her anything that she needed. The pampering aided her in one regard, but sometimes she glared at him. The glare was probably in relation to the fact that he impregnated her and now she had to suffer. Other times that she would mock him for it by sticking her tongue out. The mood swings have been dire, but he persisted.
Perhaps it was being raised with such an erratic family that prepared him for this life.
He turned the page and patted the bundle softly, to which he got a low growl. He moved his hand upward, rubbing where he knew her head was. In return, he got an affectionate noise. Satisfied, he retracted his hand back to his laptop. He was watching a lot of Mark’s matches, trying to pick up some of his tells. To OCW, it may be another match in the cog, but Damian knew that Mark had a devoted fanbase. He wasn’t nothing to sneeze at. He was a world-renowned fighter. Defeating him would give him a base in other areas. Especially since he has now moved onto a World stage in terms of events.
Damian enjoyed his time in relative darkness. He kept himself off the radar, because he loved the quiet life. He took a shot, though. He participated in the World Cup for the WCS. He had to compete in a battle royal to qualify, representing all of Canada in this tournament.
Shockingly enough, he won.
The gravity of the situation didn’t really hit him. Maybe he didn’t have the explosive passion as everyone else he knows does, but he started to getting noticed. Damian looked at his ceiling for a moment. What were the benefits of being noticed? He could compete in higher profile matches, but that never interested him. His sister, Artemis, was more into fighting the strongest, because she always had something to prove. Damian reached the top of the mountain once before. His aloof deposition prohibited from truly enjoying the satisfaction of an equal battle. He just knew he had to get past whoever was put in front of him, no matter how strong they were.
Just maybe he didn’t want the attention.
He looked back over to Tara, who poked her head out from underneath her blanket. Damian stared at her, before she growled again and snuck back underneath the cotton shroud.
With more fame means more opportunities.
Which means more money for the little demon spawn in his girlfriend’s womb.
He sighed.
“What an inconvenience,” he murmured.
“If you didn’t see this, Mark, then I can tell you personally.”
“I knew a hero once. He was my brother. He was young and devoted to making sure that every person in the audience had fun and went home happy. He stood up for people that couldn’t defend themselves. People loved him. He was sweet and entirely preoccupied with the hero mentality. When I saw him compete, I saw that aura of his. He was living the dream.”
“He never won the big one,” Damian said, “he came up short each time, but he didn’t let anything deter him.”
“The point of bringing up my heroic brother is why I don’t like people who dub themselves hero.”
“A hero isn’t a title that you can take on yourself. It’s a matter of opinion. You have to make the credibility for yourself. You have to earn that title, and by no means have you earned it yet, Mark Storm.”
“What voice in your head told you that?”
“Seeing as you want to be the hero, then let me tell you that I will decimate you with extreme prejudice if you come to that ring and preach to me that you’re my hero,” Damian’s eyebrows narrowed, “I will tear you apart, along with the sentiment.”
“Because I have met a hero before. A true hero.”
“And I killed him.”
“That’s right. The reason why my brother isn’t the hero anymore?” Damian sneered, “it’s because I got sick and tired of him failing. But he earned that title. People hated me ripping that aspect away from him, but he found success like no other. He became a threat. And did I feel bad for killing the hero that all those people looked up?”
“Not. One. Bit.”
“Mark Storm, you’re someone that I’ve only heard of. You’re not of my own blood. So why do you think that’ll take it easy on you?”
“So, allow me to challenge you on something. Outside of simply showing up to compete, I want to try to convince me that you’re my hero, that you deserve a title that my brother held so closely.”
“When you step up to me, the man who will dethrone Max Shade, you will need to bring everything, every voice, and every ounce of strength you have just to look me in the eye. You will have to become Superman to even think of beating me. But I will have you know.”
Damian’s eyes cut through the screen.
“I have faced many heroes in my time. I have crushed many of them too. I have made them turn to villains just to try to stop me.”
“But each and every single one of them for over two years have fallen to me."
“I am the Kryptonite to heroes.”
“Be prepared to fall to me, Mark Storm.”
“Just maybe then, after I beat you, I will be the hero that you’ll try to become.”
