Run Boy Run

Roleplay Roleplay by SYNDICATE
On Mon, Oct09, 2017 3:08pm America/Phoenix
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Run Boy Run

*The familiar scene of static rips across the screen before giving way to a dark Los Angeles alleyway.  It is obviously nighttime, but the City of Angels never sleeps.  Police sirens can be heard in the background, but here, in this dark alleyway lit only by a single floodlight from an adjacent building, it is quiet.  Cars zoom past this decrepit piece of property without as much as a sideways glance.  The cameraman begins moving down the alley and stops when footsteps can be heard along with a voice of a man softly singing to himself.*

???: Run boy run, this world is not made for boy run, they're trying to catch you...

*The man walks closer, and as he steps into the light, bleached blonde hair can be seen.  With it, the face of Syndicate becomes clear.  The hair, disheveled, droops down in front of his face, covering most of it.  Syndicate is wearing a blood red leather jacket, gray t-shirt, torn-up black pants, and black Nike sneakers.  His hands rest in his jacket pockets as he stalks down the alleyway, a man on a mission.  When he notices the camera, his eyes glint and a small smile creeps onto the former World champion's face.  He stops walking and leans on the wall of the alleyway before speaking.*

Syndicate: I promised destruction.  I promised to tear down the WWX from the inside out.  I promised a WAR.  And Maxfield Stanton flinched.

*A small chuckle escapes Syndicate's lips.*

Syndicate: Now I got what I wanted.  Triple-threat steel cage match for the World Heavyweight Championship.  Main event of Hall of Pain.  A PERFECT scenario.

*The smile immediately disappears from his face.*

Syndicate: Too bad my threat still stands.  Forgiveness doesn't come that easy, boys and girls.  Destruction is still to come, and I will wait for no one.  The first step on this journey to the top is my good friend, Darkness.

*Syndicate kicks a rock that is sitting near him.  The rock slides across the pavement and strikes a green dumpster, clanging off of it.*

Syndicate: Do you remember what happened the last time I lost the World title, Darkness?  Remember back in February, when Kurtis Ray came out of nowhere and took my belt?  I'll tell you what happened.  I went home.  I digested what just happened.  And I vowed that a "resurgence" would take place, leading me back to the promised land.  I won back the title at the following pay-per-view and then went undefeated for the next six months.  I TORE through this company, Darkness.  And I'll do the same damn thing, all over again.  It's too bad that it's your ass that's been put in front of me first.

Syndicate: I don't care if you had anything to do with the whole "interference" scandal at World Series.  I don't care what your opinion is on it.  The point is that it happened, and I want your head on a stake for it.  You see, Darkness, I don't take revenge lightly.  I'm not just looking to pin you this week on Fury.  No, no, that's too merciful.

*He focuses his eyes directly on the camera.*

Syndicate: I will stop at NOTHING to destroy you in front of the entire world, Darkness.  You've never seen this side of me before, I guarantee it.  Before, you faced Syndicate, king of the world and champion of the WWX., you face Sydney Maxwell Irvine, a guy from LA who has nothing to lose and everything to gain.  You can talk all you want about how you "bested" me at World Series and how "experience" played a factor in that.  You can mention that I'm a sore-ass loser that cries and cries until he gets what he wants.  I don't care.  You're next on my list, Darkness, and once I annihilate you on Fury this week, I can start focusing on doing the same damn thing at Hall of Pain, right where I belong.

*A police car, with lights flashing and sirens blaring, flies past the alley, chasing after a speeding car.*

Syndicate: Nothin' to lose, Darkness.  It's time for the second resurgence of Syndicate to begin.

*Syndicate gets up off the wall and walks towards the camera, stopping just a few short feet away from it.*

Syndicate: Run, boy.  Run.  Welcome to the Syndicate.

*The feed is immediately overtaken by static.*


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