Poetic Assessment

Posts : 7 Join date : 2024-04-14

“How?”

The outcome bothered the Grand Inquisitor greatly. Winning and losing were indeed the best barometers of success and failure, but they were not the only ones that he employed. Every match the massive man wrestled, in victory or in defeat, he looked over to see if there were things that he could have done differently. The Iron Titan was a formidable opponent indeed, but Augustus was prepared and his game plan was working to near-perfection. Until that spear. Until a power bomb that rivaled his own shook the ring.

“HOW!?”

Obsession. It was one of the few flaws that The Revered One had. This setback would be scrutinized further later and another encounter with Maximus would happen one day. After scowling at his television a few moments more in total disgust, he shut it off.

Training would satisfy his anger….for now.

Ever a student of the game, Augustus would occasionally look in on what was happening during Triumph events that he didn’t participate in from his home, usually a day or so after the events took place. He didn’t watch them as a fan and absolutely detested much of the manipulation and grandstanding (as he saw it) from other wrestlers. The main event caught his eye in particular. Emmanuelle was a student of the same man who trained him, one who went down a much different path than Augustus. Things didn’t appear to be going the Platinum Standard’s way until Danielle Page and a face he had never seen before, Akane Nakatomi, intervened and essentially cost Bianca her chance at the PCW Valor Championship. As he was getting up from his seat to go tend to his garden, his phone went off.

“Dornberg. Be brief….Seriously? Are you sure? Of course I’ll fight. It’s a strange pairing, Nakatomi and myself, but it makes for an interesting bout. I’m sure that your fans will be thoroughly entertained. No, no need. All of the arrangements have already been made. I’ll be leaving for San Diego at once.”

A Little Kitten

Straying very far from home

Meets a starving bear

Forgive me, my haiku skills are a bit out of practice. Victory eluded me in my last outing. Maximus Steele is a force of nature. Perhaps I underestimated his willpower, his resolve to prove that winning the Tag Team Championships and reclaiming gold was just the beginning. I will make no further miscalculations.

Who are you, Akane Nakatomi? Where do you come from? You seem to have wandered away from Alpha Wrestling to test your might in Prestige Championship Wrestling. What brought you here? A score to settle? More money for your coffers? The fame, the glory that comes with being a champion?

None of that matters to me.

The only thing that matters is testing my strength to improve my wrestling style until it’s perfection is unrivaled through the world of combat sports. That is what drives me, nothing more.

Akane, I have seen your type before. I have trained, learned and grown with them. I have lived the daily struggle of someone in pursuit of the full essence of Strong Style. Joshi wrestling is an interesting diversion, filled with grit and heart, but what appealed to me most as a younger man about wrestling in Japan was the complete ruthlessness abound even in training when I visited the dojos there. Death always felt a heartbeat away and after you finished your training, even the mightiest of opponents would feel like child’s play compared to the hellish combat you had already endured.

What do you have to offer, Akane? Are you obsessed with self to the point that you have come to another promotion to placate your ego? Do you offer the rage and boiling blood of someone in the pursuit of vendettas? Or are you just a roaming vagabond, a modern ronin, looking for a final great battle to extinguish your fighting spirit’s flames permanently?

Whatever the reason for your arrival, unless you provide me with a worthy challenge, something like Maximus and even TJ Alexander to a much lesser degree were capable of doing, then this is pointless. I am not a vehicle with which you can introduce yourself to others who may not be as familiar with your work as I have become.

You see, in studying you I’ve seen the hesitations, the drastic changes in looks and personality. You have no clear direction, no clear purpose. No vision. No goals which you are aspiring to that don’t involve your own petty needs, absurd obsessions and constant need to prove the worth of your own existence. You are not a warrior or phenom; you merely suffer from an identity crisis.

You are much like Emmanuelle in my eyes and for that alone I have an uncharacteristic inclination to LOATHE you.

Anything for the adulation of the people. Anything to add another trophy to the cabinet, as if THOSE things will matter when you die. The impact that I hope to achieve, that I will achieve, is far beyond your comprehension. You fight only for yourself. I, The Grand Inquisitor, the man who will take stock of your capabilities, fight for so much more than that. Unlike many of the con artists and weaklings that fight in this organization, I genuinely wish to raise the honor of this sport. I want to build the ultimate wrestling style.

How will you help me achieve this?

By going away.

I have no inclinations to be inserted in your melodrama. I only want to see if anything you can bring to our fight is worthy of remembrance and assimilation. Otherwise, you are of no use to me. And once I’m finished on Triumph, you will be of little use to anyone. Your skills are impressive, but as previous fights have made me privy to…..

Skill alone only gets you so far.

The truly great ones? Resolve sees them through.

A pretty flower

Wilting In the Summer Sun

You Cannot Be Saved