Post by Jason Long on Aug 25, 2021 22:52:25 GMT -5
THE ELEPHANT'S IN THE ROOM, I’M TALKING TWO TON(AS)
BITTER TRUTH TO YA’ FACE, LIKE THIS IS TWO GUN(AS)
ONE HALF OF THE CREW, YOU KNOW THEM JEWEL RUNNERS
MOVE US OUT OF OUR LANE, SHIT WHO’S GONNA?
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JULY 29TH, 2021 — PERTH, AUSTRALIA.
It started with a knife lunged into the stomach.
For a split second, there was a moment of shock on Jason’s face, but for those watching at home on their screens? They never knew the pain he truly felt deep within him, having the six inch blade being inserted into his abdomen multiple times with clean lunges, cutting through the skin and through his intestines. All it took was a split second, but those seconds felt like minutes and the minutes soon turned to hours, the blood began to trickle down Jason’s body through the clothing he wore — dropping down to the floor below as Rapture soon ran off away before anyone could get to him and capture him. Jason couldn’t move, even if he tried his hardest to get back up, the pain was just too much for him to handle, and he began to get weaker and weaker with his skin going pale with every moment that passed. Through Jason’s eyes, for as much as he could hold them open, he could see everyone surrounding him with sheer panic in their eyes before on-site medical staff rushed over and placed cloth over the stab wound, but even then? It was too late. His eyes closed and everything became a blur, and everything turned to black.
Life ended, and Jason thought he was the unkillable machine that couldn’t stay down, he thought he was the man that could never die no matter how hard they threw everything at him. This? All of it? This was the worst way to have gone out, seeing how he’s watching his life flash before his eyes, seeing everything that’s made him smile over the past twenty-three years just pass by like it’s nothing. All he could imagine was trying to get back up, trying to stand back up and give chase to Rapture — or who he thought to have been Rapture at the time — but of course, it was all in that fading imagination of his. Even though he hasn’t moved an inch after dropping down to the floor, he can feel himself standing back up and running after Rapture. Running, and running, and running, and running… but he’s barely getting anywhere. Not even moving, like he was running on the spot, giving up as he watched Rapture run away.
Jason watched on in anger as Rapture continued to run away, turning back around and that’s when he sees his face distort into the mask of Redd, before everything turned to white, the light beam felt like the light at the end of the tunnel as it got brighter and brighter, as if it were reaching out for him. Jason shook his head, he didn’t want to be taken away, he didn’t want to meet heaven or hell — death wasn’t his choice, but neither was it an option. Jason began to run away from the light, hoping to buy himself some time and hope that he can be brought back to life but it was just like before and the more he ran, the more it felt like he was simply running on the spot. Nowhere to go but towards the light as it started to close in on him. Tears began to run down his face in plea, not wanting to be taken to the afterlife, not wanting to be taken to the other world.
Suddenly, a jolt of electricity ran through his veins as he dropped down to his knees in pain. Jason was visibly shaken up from it, unsure of what he just experienced but he felt every second of it run through his bones, only for it to happen again and seeing the light behind him slowly creep away. The pain was tremendous, almost paralysing Jason on the spot as he dropped down near where his body laid, and giving a moment of realisation that Jason needed. He truly died. His body was soon turning white, going paler than before, every bit of his soul was soon draining until the last drop was gone before he felt that final jolt of electricity through his veins — and Jason was back in the real world. A jumpstart to his heart as he awakens back inside of a nearby hospital’s A&E section. Those jolts of electricity? Those came from the defibrillator that the doctor was holding onto at the time. Jason’s eyes were widened as he sat up but the doctors and nurses that surrounded him were insisting that he laid down and rested.
Time of death? 8:14 P.M.
It was now 8:50 P.M.
Thirty-six minutes of being clinically dead.
For everyone else? Those thirty-six minutes were spent in a panic trying to revive him, some doctors opting to continue on fighting bringing him alive as the window that they had left to resuscitate him was very closely closing in on his life. Leaving an entire hospital ward to become a full-on panic station. For Jason, however? Those thirty-six minutes felt like purgatory, hours and hours spent trying to relive his final moments of being alive whilst seeing everything that’s happened in his life flash before him. No Savannah inside of the room, no Christian DeMarco inside of the room, nobody recognisable inside of the room. Jason continued to try and get back up, try to stand on his own two feet, try to be able to move around. But soon? His eyes would close and he’d pass out again.
He just needed to speak with someone, to speak with Savannah, to speak with DeMarco, just anyone really — but even trying to speak has his breath taken away from him, his voice has been completely taken away from him, trying to piece together a sentence to escape his lips but even that seemed like a challenge with his brain trying to come back to life and back to normality. It was a question of when. Not even a phone beside him to type out a message, but then again, he can’t truly feel his fingers. His body was soon going limp and his eyes closed, his head dropping down onto the pillow and his eyes closed. Fading back into a coma.
I’m going to kill that bastard, whoever it might be under the mask.
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This is Proving Ground, huh?
Being able to step on a whole new territory is something I look forward to, being able to step into a new battleground and once again proving yourself is something I can look forward to, and being able to do it on Proving Ground? That’s a damn good feeling in itself. Though I’ve been apart of the Fallout brand since the beginning, having my one chance here on Proving Ground is a great feeling — and it gives me the chance, as The Emperor of Project: Honor, to step into the ring with some of those that I wouldn’t be able to face on a weekly basis that aren’t on the Fallout roster. Which is why I’m here on Proving Ground, because it’s time that I finally break down the fucking doors and allow myself, along with others, to show up and to show out. Make everyone remember who owns the top brand, who’s the champion of said brand, and to make everyone remember how fucking lucky they are to not have me on their roster.
Just imagine, I could have done the same thing that I did on Fallout over here on Proving Ground — and who would’ve stopped me out of everyone on the roster? Lance Williams? Mark Hunter? MYOJIN? Cadillac Jackson? Not even fucking OZYMANDIAS could step up and knock me down. Which is why I came here to Proving Ground because I feel as if there’s just so much more to prove and by proving to everyone why I should be the Legacy Champion, I prove to myself and to everyone else that there was only ever one ace of this company, there was only one face of this company, there was only one GOAT, one King, one Tyrant, one of everything and those names belongs to the Prime Champion of Project: Honor — Jason Long.
Remember one thing, I officially made my debut on that brand back in January. I started on this brand, the only thing that stopped me from ruining all of your fucking lives was a draft that said I had to be there than here. It’s the thing of it being just about time that they do all of these cross-brand matches and not have shite people coming and going like Valkyrie or Rapture or whoever they have in the Ascension division these days. It’s just about time that they send someone with real fucking talent over for some cross-brand promotion and someone who can represent the brand accordingly. And by that, I wanted to face the best of the best that Proving Ground has been hyping up from the beginning, from the get-go and see how they can mantle a challenge like mine.
All of those names? I could have asked for them. Lance Williams, Mark Hunter, Cadillac Jackson. What about Arata Asakura, Scott Oasis, Lil Petey or Emmanuelle? I wanted something good, I wanted someone brave, I wanted something with a name and with a fucking purpose on them. So you can imagine to my absolute surprise I am facing someone named Swindle Shelldrake, someone I’ve never heard of before in my life but someone I’ve been paying close attention to because I know what it’s like to be the underestimated underdog in a fight and let me tell you that it can be painful emotionally but it’s a damn good motivation builder. That’s not what I’m set out to do, Swindle. I’m not looking to be the motivator, I’m not here to do your job, mate. It’s as simple as that.
But that doesn’t mean you don’t have my respect — because you have this vibe that you keep shit to yourself, you’re not a narcissistic piece of shit like some of those who’ve come and gone on both brands — and it gives you somewhat of a respect for you, but even then, you’re a simple rookie amongst the ranks. I mean, you’ve not truly proven anything as of late and this is your first real challenge. Your first big game feels, and I’d understand that with that pressure put onto you, it’s going to be tough to hold an entire brand on your back against the World Champion of Fallout. Hearing your voice the first time with your last little promotional video against Big Drip Productions, and hearing you hype up your friend and Arata Asakura, it made me giggle a bit when I heard everything you’ve said. JORMUNGANDR are this, JORMUNGANDR are that -- Swindle Shelldrake is all about this, Swindle Shelldrake is about to do all of that -- and it made me think in my head that Swindle Shelldrake can’t do shit to save his life if he was in that situation.
You’ve got a bit of a cockiness towards you and that’s something I can respect, you have a few moves in your arsenal that are challenging to break free from when in your clutches, but you seriously need to sometimes just keep the mouth shut before the most random shit ever comes flying out of your mouth. Against the likes of Big Drip Productions, you spent a good twenty minutes just talking about yourself and your tag team partners more than you did for them and Ulf Hednir. I understand it however, I totally understand it, you’re brand new and you want people to know who you are and make them recognise you when you become an even bigger star. But you must the fucking best of the best in this world to be going twenty whole fucking minutes of speaking about yourself more than your actual opponents. Should I believe in someone like you? Should I be listening to someone like you? Should I even care for someone like you? A voice in the back of my head is saying ‘no’, Swindle. A voice in the back of my mind is telling me to not waste my time with someone who’s so full of themselves when they’ve done fuck all for themselves in the past couple of matches that they’ve had.
If it were up to me to understand what you’re doing? I think you’re just seeking validation because nobody else could give it to you. That’s what I think you were doing when you were giving Arata Asakura all kinds of praise because you saw a bigger and better star than you — but do you really think that Arata sees you the same way? Because I can, one hundred percent tell you right now, he never gave a shit about you two and you were just there for show and effect. Was that really the kind of validation that you needed? Come on, man. You’re supposed to be the bad guy in this situation and you’re meant to look tough, you’re meant to be ruthless, and I can’t look at you as someone ruthless when you seek validation every fucking time. That’s not tough, that’s a fucking weakness for you, and that’s what you want to show those who face you? If you wanted to have the validation of those around you, then you’re doing it all fucking wrong. If you wanted the validation, being the person to hate is fucking retarded to do. You’re an idiot, Swindle. A blind, brain-dead, fucking idiot. You had one job, Swindle, and you fucked it before it began. How do you think I’m going to take that and abuse it for my own good? How do you think I’m going to use that weakness, that ever growing weakness of yours, and use it for my own advantage?
It’s like you’re a Syndicate lite, except I’ve never seen you beg or plead for anything, and to be honest with you, it makes me remind myself of you. There’s something inside of you that I just can’t put my finger on and it reminds me of a younger Jason Long finding validation by being the bad guy in every situation. By proving that I could stand across the ring from anyone and put up the fight of my fucking life. By proving I can stand atop of any mountain I wanted to. I did all of those. Became a World Champion and proved everyone right all of the time I had the moment to do just that. For someone like you, it’s going to be a long road ahead, but you’ve got the long way to go to get on my level. I’m sure you know that, I’m very fucking well aware of it, and at the moment? I’m just waiting to see what you do.
Because it doesn’t matter what happens, or what you even say, the result was always going to stay the way it was meant to be. Give me a speech about how you can beat me, what you see wrong with me, and don’t build hype over that petite win of yours, Swindle. For someone like me? I don’t care about what you like about yourself, I don’t care about what you think you’re all about, and I certainly don’t fucking care about what ancient deity you worship like the Kraken. You’ve already got OZYMANDIAS worshipping the fucking deity of Cuthulu, why steal another man’s gimmick and use a different deity because it seems so cool? The harsh reality is finally setting in on you, isn’t it? You aren’t worth a shit anymore, you aren’t worth the fucking hassle that people say you’re worth, and I certainly don’t see you as someone who should be in this position that you’re in right now. This is your big break, ain’t it? This is your calling to make it shine all over your name. But just put some thought into it, Swindle…
I fucking carried you into this main event… and all I did was show up like I normally do.
I don’t need to do anything special to make you a star because quite frankly, you’re not meant for stardom just yet, and you’re not meant for being in this place on the card but for some fucking reason — by whoever booked this show, maybe Indy Darling or Rock Johnson — they just sent you into an early fucking grave by putting a young up and comming new dude with basically zero expectations against someone who’s proven time and fucking time again that he’s become the best fucking thing this company has ever touched. They make expectations out of me, they make me become the idol to those who’ve come in, and they’ve made me become the expectation of what the newer people should become one day. To think that I’m only twenty-three years old and the bar for people no matter what age they are? You’re just a year older and very much taller than I am, so I expect you to loosen yourself up and finally listen to my voice that you’re not worth a shit to anyone but yourself, and nobody is really fucking listening to you, mate.
For when I speak, they listen to every word. For when you speak, they don’t bat a fucking eye on you.
And it’ll be that way when it comes down to Proving Ground. So, I hope you’ve done your homework, done your studies, and done all of the research you’ve needed to face me. Look through my biography and use all of it to your own advantage for your little promotional package thing you do. I can’t wait to hear how factually incorrect you are when you open that big fucking mouth of yours, Swindle. Because the Prime Champion is stepping on an enemy battleground, the Prime Champion is stepping on enemy soil and the only man they send to take me down? Some lanky little fuck like you, Swindle? Oh, I am going to have a fucking field day with you, my friend. So I beg on your fucking life that you bring the best that you have, and I hope to awaken the fucking Kraken in you because I’d love a fight with a beast — something that you clearly are not, Swindle.
And for those on Proving Ground who need a reminder — or even an introduction — into who I am? Well, allow me to give you such a detailed introduction. My name is Jason Long, the EMPEROR of Project: Honor, and the Project: Honor Prime Champion. The first ever double champion of this company, the man that died and came back to life, the man that’s become the brand new face of this company, and a future Project: Honor Legacy Champion. I am the man that people fear when they face me, I am the man that puts the fear into fucking god himself, and I am the man that’s going to run through the frontlines just to put my foot down and put Proving Ground into a choke hold — making sure they remember who the fuck I am when I come back here after Night of Honor with the Prime Championship on one shoulder and the Legacy Championship on the other. Believe me, I don’t make promises and I don’t make predictions, but I am good at being the spoiler of the future.
Swindle Shelldrake, best of luck to you on Friday night and just in case they haven’t told you yet… You’re going to fucking need that luck, son. Because I’m going to break down the walls, I’m going to tear everyone up, and I’m going to make sure that Proving Ground will not be the same ever again — you’re just going to be the casualty of war, and a part of me feels sorry for you, a part of me thinks you don’t deserve to be here and to be put through all of this. Then, I snapped out of it and said fuck it. Sending you back to Indy Darling’s office in a body bag is the right kind of message I look to make.
Long Live The Emperor.
All fuckin’ hail, Proving Ground.
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