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Post by CHUCKNASTEH! on Sept 19, 2013 2:38:39 GMT
MONROE (n.) the star destroyer  “Why have you turned on PWR and allied with Maxwell Verdi?”
The lights flashed and the room stank of the usual desperation one was sure to find in such rooms. They all fancied themselves sharks, but at the end of the day they were nothing more than leeches that attempted to suck the life out of any audio clip they could sink their teeth into; the wrestling media, such a prestigious lot. He didn’t mind, he never did, in the grand scheme of things they meant absolutely nothing. They catered to a niche audience that would neither make nor break the experience for the general fan, but at the same time they could be useful. MONROE gazed forward, slowly removing his facemask to reveal the battle-worn face paint, streaks of which were missing to reveal the hardened flesh of a grizzled veteran.
“I didn’t turn on anyone or anything. Turning would suggest I had given my allegiances to begin with, and anybody who knows me well enough realizes that’s not something I do…”
His voice was deep, booming, his words dripped with a sleek confidence that commanded the attention of all those in its presence. He would take a seat upon the bench, spreading his legs as he let his head hang low. Lengthy locks of his ravenous hair falling down and obscuring his face from view, his exhaustion quite apparent.
“But why Maxwell Verdi? Why try to destroy something before it’s even given the chance to run?”
A faint cackle slipped past his broken leaps, cocking his right shoulder he gazed forward and towards the audience of five or six reporters. Some of them more legitimate than others, but at the end of the night he didn’t really care.
“Why not? You seem to think I have these grand maniacal schemes of anarchy and mayhem but that’s just not the case. I like to hurt people. I like to prove I’m a superior breed of man. What better way to do so than to exert my will on those around me?”
Standing up, he paid little mind to those in attendance as he cut his way between them like a knife. His wide shoulders acting as a plow, cutting through those that stood in front of him with little mind given to their well-being.
| words 385 tags #pwr #interview
#MONROE notes Closed. |
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