Volcano.

[zyon 0]

Rubbing the back of his head while staring into the darkness that surrounds the Doomtopian volcano that could erupt at a moment’s notice. Tapping his foot to the beat of the music inside his head, the former number one contender for the World Title stands motionless, glaring into the nether with impenetrable hatred. His eyes refuse to remove the disappointment hidden throughout his frame after falling victim to the Sunny in England. He knew he was maybe a move or two away from transitioning from being the guy that can put on a show to becoming the guy for all intents and purposes…is the fucking show.

 

Destiny????

 

The youth’s legs weaken slightly as his stomach rumbles from the sick feeling that is slowly on the rise, tearing him apart from the inside. Looking back, he should have seen it all coming. It wasn’t about winning the big one. It wasn’t even about the World Title. It was about keeping to his word…keeping to his dream. The beginning of the night started out the way he wanted it to…controversial.

 

Destiny!!!

 

Realizing that he made of came off a bit bitter during his opening promo for Lockdown, Zyon takes a step back away from the dramatics and realizes that he wasn’t really himself anymore. Maybe he really was losing his grip on reality? Maybe he was becoming what was taught to him in the earlier stages of his career…by that psychopath.

 

“No…”

 

The youth whispers as his most recent fond memory continues to torture his conscience, the conscience that fights to maintain the form it has been in all this time as opposed to transforming into some Hollywood Superstar that he isn’t. A memory that almost made everything Zyon said that night, null and void.

 

As the massed SWF fans chant his name in respect and approval of his efforts, Zyon’s disappoint slowly seems to fade. Michael Stephens offers his hand and after a second’s hesitation Zyon clasps it. The crowd let out a further cheer, and lip-readers might see Stephens wishing his opponent better luck next time… and, to judge by his face, meaning it sincerely.

 

Looking up into the red sky of Doomtopia, Zyon reaches into his pride and pulls out a big glittering pile of humble soup, “I guess he really isn’t the same person. He was able to do what I couldn’t do. He’s content. He’s awake. He’s not Toxxic. He’s Michael Stephens, the man that could have kicked me while I was down, but instead lifted me back up, and shook my hand as if I was his equal. What a guy.”

 

The youth smiles realizing that there are a few good people left in the world, some of which who have been reformed from the dark side if you will. Of course, at times the sides kinda blur a little bit, “What a guy…damnit. I should have been the one helping him up. I should have been the one claiming my place in SWF folklore. It was my…it was my…

 

…Destiny.”

 

Staring into the volcano that could certainly be an outer manifestation of himself, the youth is suddenly delivered a message by some sort of pathetic gargoyle that won’t even stay around and have a chat. Opening the letter, Zyon slowly drifts into the blur that he’s been trying to swim away from.

 

“Dear, Zyon

 

Good show tonight. Your opening promo pulled in one of the larger audiences we’ve had. To be honest I thought giving you a world title shot was quite foolish on my part. I guess I had to throw the dog a bone once awhile. Really, it’s too bad you couldn’t dethrone Michael Stephens. I hate that bastard. However, Michael and yourself should know that you pulled in a great rating for Lockdown. And for that, I shall put your challenge of Michael Cross into consideration. As for Smarkdown…well I feel I should give you the night off.

 

Sincerely, Joseph Peters.”

 

It could have been the hidden arrogance in the letter. It could have been his greed for ratings and money. It could have very well been the “dog” comment. But something made Zyon’s sickness in his stomach grow ten fold as he drops the letter. Clinching his fist and grinding his teeth, the youth can slowly feel himself lose what he has tried his damnest to keep…that being himself. However, that must wait since he…himself has one more thing he must do before going to sleep. He must stop Michael Cross. Turning to walk away, the volcano into the background suddenly erupts shadowing Zyon in a bright orange. Turning to watch the destructive spectacle, Zyon slowly unclenches his hands as he takes a deep breath to calm his nerves.

 

“Yeah, I’ll take care of Cross, and then maybe one day I’ll be able to…” Zyon stops as if losing thought, “…But until then, I think I’ll keep dreaming.”

 

The youth smiles as he walks away, looking forward to using up the energy that is ready to explode. Looking forward to unleashing himself on the world in a massive eruption of youth energy…and just like that volcano.

 

It could burn ya.

 

Fin

[Toxxic 0]

This promo is fucking ace, and not just because it puts me over. Right from the start, Zyon has always come over as a slightly conflicted individual... but slightly conflicted, and it's so much more believable that way. The undercurrent of doing what he believes rather than what his mentor Spike taught him is also good (and fits quite nicely, given that Toxx was essentially Spike's mentor).

 

I like. Looking forward to the war with Cross, too.

[HollywoodSpikeJenkins 0]

I *really* like this. Only good can come from working with Toxx.

[super_tigris 0]

I'm looking forward to this more than I was before.

[Hank Kingsley 0]

I remember marking Zyon's first several matches and watching the improvement. You've come a long way, and I'm pumped to see you in the main event now.