Post by h4ck3r on Apr 11, 2012 21:18:40 GMT -5
The screen fuzzes with what looks to be a distorted black and white static that seems to also include the mask features of “The Destroyer Of Worlds” H4ck3r. The screen fuzzes out and lets out a large noise, sounding alomost as if some sort of connection was being broke into. With H4ck3r, this is almost usually the case when he makes an appearence. He was most obviously scorned by his embarassing defeat by Drake Hunter last night. He didn’t like the fact that he had lost to someone he believed to be weaker than him. He was proud of what he had acomplished so far though. He knew he had tapped into the cerebral grey matter of Drake’s mind, finding himself doing what he had originally planned. Break Drake down bit by bit. His lovely little girlfriend dumped him because of everything H4ck3r was putting them through. H4ck3r wanted he gone and now she’s gone. He wanted to break Drake down psychologically and he’s quite clearly doing what he had planned. Now was the hard part. Getting Drake to let go of what little he has left. So similar to bullying a teenage boy into suicide. All the hate, all the fighting. Then ... BOOM! No more nerdy kid. The screen clears out as H4ck3r begins to walk back from the camera’s hightened platform so that the viewer wouldn’t just see his mask but see his body too. Something he was extremely proud of, despite his pale complexion. He seemed to be standing atop a rooftop, a cruddy one at that. The sun was high in the sky and the sky was as blue as it could possibly be.
H4ck3r: Members of the NYCCW community, I bid you good day. Now I’m not here to yell about losing to a pathetic weasel. I’m not here to boast about my body or claim I’m going to knock Alexander’s teeth out. I’m not even here to try and reclaim what little of a career I have ... like some black and green masked people around here. I’m here to say that even though the score is now 1-0 to Alexander ... I will not stop.
H4ck3r pulls his mask tighter around his head and pulls his hood more over the mask, conceiling most of his body. The only skin that was on show was his pale white hands and the digital orange numbered watch that wrapped around his left hand. Signifying that he was either left handed or he placed it on the left wrist so that it wouldn’t drop off as easily with the hand he would normally hit with.
H4ck3r: My name is H4ck3r ... and I will not stop ... I will not fail ... I will not fall ... I will not leave and I’m NEVER going to just go away. I’m here to stay. I’ve got a legitimate NYCCW contract as signed by mister Will Turner himself and I’ve got plans. Great plans. Maybe take that smug look from Clash’s face and rip that belt right from his sweaty hairy hands. Maybe even go after useless champions like Rye Payne. Or just maybe I should just wait until Metallica “the girl with the awesome ass” Evans wins a belt, then just force that pretty little gypsy to retire, taking the guardless belt as my own. I have no idea what the future holds for me ... but I know what it holds for Alexander. He’ll be gone. Long gone. I don’t care if I have to hypnotise an army of mindless zombies or tear his muscles apart myself. But he’ll be gone. I always get what I want. What I want is Alexander to suffer. I want him to cry. I want him to scream my name as I break his arms apart, like a child plucking the wings from insects. Crippling them.
H4ck3r turns around and walks over to the side of the building, leaning over it as he watches the city go through it’s daily routines.
He removes his mask to get a better view, placing the mask down onto the ledge of the building and pulling the hood to the back of his neck. His face was unviewable and his voice was changed, as it usually was. Done in a way so that it is easily understandable but it couldn't possibly be unedited to hear his true voice. H4ck3r was smarter than that. He knew what he had to do to hide his identity. Nobody knew who H4ck3r was ... and that’s the way he likes it.
H4ck3r: It is my absolute belief that every life, little or big, fat or thin, smart or stupid has a purpose and that life is just our limited time to fulfill that purpose. Like many of you, the pursuit of becoming a legendary professional wrestler has been my purpose for as long as I can remember. Except that one time I worked as a janitor. To hype up the fans, to walk out as your theme song shoots into the audience and fireworks burst all around you. That is the dream right there.
H4ck3r places his mask back on, pulls his hoodie over his head and walks right up to the camera, staring into it. This wasn’t an NYCCW official camera. It was his own. The quality difference is obviously not as good. But hey, it’s H4ck3r here. He’s hacking into titantrons, I think he can take a break from making HD videos.
H4ck3r: When I was a child my father died and I felt so alone. I cried my eyes out for months. I never left the house, my hair grew long and horrid and I began to quit taking a shower. I was a mess. Then I turned on the TV and found pro wrestling. WWE to be exact. It helped me through the hard times. That’s why I love it now. It reminds me of who I used to be and how I’ve changed since then. I’m proud of who I am. I’m proud that I’m a genius-level hacker. I’m proud that I can wrestle. I’m proud that I’ve been studying parkour for several years. I’m proud that I’ve become such a nemesis to one of the best wrestlers in NYCCW that his own girlfriend left him. I’m proud that I can manipulate people into doing whatever I wish. I’m proud of who I am now. Quick fact coming up. Pride in yourself ... best weapon there is. Fuck tanks, missles and nuclear weapons.
H4ck3r takes notice of a pigeon that had taken a rest on the ledge when he had recently place his mask. He loved birds. Such peaceful and majestic creatures. Not like humans. Humans kill. Humans destroy. Humans kill and destroy their own land. Just look at the state of the Earth right now. Not much nature. Just the concrete and tar slabs of everyday life. H4ck3r was sickened by this. He was a man of nature, despite his expertise at technology and engineering. He loved to spend time watering his flowers and enjoying the view of his plant filled garden. He loved nature. He hated what humans had done to it over the last two hundred thousand years. Soon there’ll be nothing left. When we’re all gone and some new race emerges from our demise they won’t treat us as gods. They’ll treat us as the destroyers of the Humans. Because that’s what we’re doing. Killing ourselves. Killing our planet. How dumb can you get to literally poison the very thing that gives you life? That would be like giving your mother a cyanide pill. Nonsensical bullcrap. But humans will keep on doing this, no matter how many protests hippy groups conjour up. I just pray that my descendants don’t have to suffer just because of mindless assholes killing their own planet.
H4ck3r: I couldn’t have knew how this would all turn out. I couldn’t have predicted that I would be successful in my attempt to get into the mind of Alexander Krossa.
H4ck3r takes a deep gulp before continuing.
H4ck3r: What I want to say ... is despite anything that happens with Alexander’s destruction I stand by my decision to do this and if somebody said to me I could turn back time and do it all again, I don’t think I would change anything. Nothing spectacular has been acheived in human history without pushing boundaries and pushing the envolope. Changing the world. Taking risks. And above all else ... I -
Before H4ck3r can finish what he was about to say, he gets a call from an unknown caller. The ringtone plays Kryptonite by Three Doors Down, signifying that he has a taste for light rock. He turns to a lower point that the camera cannot view and picks up a light brown stylish coat, grabbing his cell phone up and dropping the coat back onto the floor. He answers almost straight away, showing that he either was embarassed about his music preference or he didn’t want the veiwer to see what type of clothes he wore when he wasn’t in his H4ck3r attire.
H4ck3r: Hello?
Caller: (mumbling)
H4ck3r: Er...I’m on my way.
Caller: (mumbling)
H4ck3r: Oh I’m just in the car. Traffic is dreadful, I’ll be twenty minutes tops.
H4ck3r then hangs up on the cell phone and places it back into his coat pocket. He seems to be in a rush, pulling back his hoodie and removing his watch and shoes, putting them into a bag that is positioned to his left, away from his usual clothes. He takes a quick look at the camera, lets out a little laugh and ends the video right there.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ps. Alexander, good luck in your match at Bright Lights. You're gonna need it. *insert evil grin*
H4ck3r: Members of the NYCCW community, I bid you good day. Now I’m not here to yell about losing to a pathetic weasel. I’m not here to boast about my body or claim I’m going to knock Alexander’s teeth out. I’m not even here to try and reclaim what little of a career I have ... like some black and green masked people around here. I’m here to say that even though the score is now 1-0 to Alexander ... I will not stop.
H4ck3r pulls his mask tighter around his head and pulls his hood more over the mask, conceiling most of his body. The only skin that was on show was his pale white hands and the digital orange numbered watch that wrapped around his left hand. Signifying that he was either left handed or he placed it on the left wrist so that it wouldn’t drop off as easily with the hand he would normally hit with.
H4ck3r: My name is H4ck3r ... and I will not stop ... I will not fail ... I will not fall ... I will not leave and I’m NEVER going to just go away. I’m here to stay. I’ve got a legitimate NYCCW contract as signed by mister Will Turner himself and I’ve got plans. Great plans. Maybe take that smug look from Clash’s face and rip that belt right from his sweaty hairy hands. Maybe even go after useless champions like Rye Payne. Or just maybe I should just wait until Metallica “the girl with the awesome ass” Evans wins a belt, then just force that pretty little gypsy to retire, taking the guardless belt as my own. I have no idea what the future holds for me ... but I know what it holds for Alexander. He’ll be gone. Long gone. I don’t care if I have to hypnotise an army of mindless zombies or tear his muscles apart myself. But he’ll be gone. I always get what I want. What I want is Alexander to suffer. I want him to cry. I want him to scream my name as I break his arms apart, like a child plucking the wings from insects. Crippling them.
H4ck3r turns around and walks over to the side of the building, leaning over it as he watches the city go through it’s daily routines.
He removes his mask to get a better view, placing the mask down onto the ledge of the building and pulling the hood to the back of his neck. His face was unviewable and his voice was changed, as it usually was. Done in a way so that it is easily understandable but it couldn't possibly be unedited to hear his true voice. H4ck3r was smarter than that. He knew what he had to do to hide his identity. Nobody knew who H4ck3r was ... and that’s the way he likes it.
H4ck3r: It is my absolute belief that every life, little or big, fat or thin, smart or stupid has a purpose and that life is just our limited time to fulfill that purpose. Like many of you, the pursuit of becoming a legendary professional wrestler has been my purpose for as long as I can remember. Except that one time I worked as a janitor. To hype up the fans, to walk out as your theme song shoots into the audience and fireworks burst all around you. That is the dream right there.
H4ck3r places his mask back on, pulls his hoodie over his head and walks right up to the camera, staring into it. This wasn’t an NYCCW official camera. It was his own. The quality difference is obviously not as good. But hey, it’s H4ck3r here. He’s hacking into titantrons, I think he can take a break from making HD videos.
H4ck3r: When I was a child my father died and I felt so alone. I cried my eyes out for months. I never left the house, my hair grew long and horrid and I began to quit taking a shower. I was a mess. Then I turned on the TV and found pro wrestling. WWE to be exact. It helped me through the hard times. That’s why I love it now. It reminds me of who I used to be and how I’ve changed since then. I’m proud of who I am. I’m proud that I’m a genius-level hacker. I’m proud that I can wrestle. I’m proud that I’ve been studying parkour for several years. I’m proud that I’ve become such a nemesis to one of the best wrestlers in NYCCW that his own girlfriend left him. I’m proud that I can manipulate people into doing whatever I wish. I’m proud of who I am now. Quick fact coming up. Pride in yourself ... best weapon there is. Fuck tanks, missles and nuclear weapons.
H4ck3r takes notice of a pigeon that had taken a rest on the ledge when he had recently place his mask. He loved birds. Such peaceful and majestic creatures. Not like humans. Humans kill. Humans destroy. Humans kill and destroy their own land. Just look at the state of the Earth right now. Not much nature. Just the concrete and tar slabs of everyday life. H4ck3r was sickened by this. He was a man of nature, despite his expertise at technology and engineering. He loved to spend time watering his flowers and enjoying the view of his plant filled garden. He loved nature. He hated what humans had done to it over the last two hundred thousand years. Soon there’ll be nothing left. When we’re all gone and some new race emerges from our demise they won’t treat us as gods. They’ll treat us as the destroyers of the Humans. Because that’s what we’re doing. Killing ourselves. Killing our planet. How dumb can you get to literally poison the very thing that gives you life? That would be like giving your mother a cyanide pill. Nonsensical bullcrap. But humans will keep on doing this, no matter how many protests hippy groups conjour up. I just pray that my descendants don’t have to suffer just because of mindless assholes killing their own planet.
H4ck3r: I couldn’t have knew how this would all turn out. I couldn’t have predicted that I would be successful in my attempt to get into the mind of Alexander Krossa.
H4ck3r takes a deep gulp before continuing.
H4ck3r: What I want to say ... is despite anything that happens with Alexander’s destruction I stand by my decision to do this and if somebody said to me I could turn back time and do it all again, I don’t think I would change anything. Nothing spectacular has been acheived in human history without pushing boundaries and pushing the envolope. Changing the world. Taking risks. And above all else ... I -
Before H4ck3r can finish what he was about to say, he gets a call from an unknown caller. The ringtone plays Kryptonite by Three Doors Down, signifying that he has a taste for light rock. He turns to a lower point that the camera cannot view and picks up a light brown stylish coat, grabbing his cell phone up and dropping the coat back onto the floor. He answers almost straight away, showing that he either was embarassed about his music preference or he didn’t want the veiwer to see what type of clothes he wore when he wasn’t in his H4ck3r attire.
H4ck3r: Hello?
Caller: (mumbling)
H4ck3r: Er...I’m on my way.
Caller: (mumbling)
H4ck3r: Oh I’m just in the car. Traffic is dreadful, I’ll be twenty minutes tops.
H4ck3r then hangs up on the cell phone and places it back into his coat pocket. He seems to be in a rush, pulling back his hoodie and removing his watch and shoes, putting them into a bag that is positioned to his left, away from his usual clothes. He takes a quick look at the camera, lets out a little laugh and ends the video right there.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ps. Alexander, good luck in your match at Bright Lights. You're gonna need it. *insert evil grin*
