Post by Nate Pierce on Feb 19, 2023 4:38:56 GMT
Nate: “Hyah! Hyyah! Hyyaaaah!”
The ongoing recording shows Chaos Theory member, Nate Pierce, actively practicing some form of martial arts in his private quarters at CT’s private lodgings. A red headband is tied around his forehead as he continuously punches the air with alternating strikes, torso glistening with sweat from the moderate intensity of the regiment he’s currently putting himself through.
Nate: “Hah….last show had a killer ending if I do say so myself. Practically bisected little Otto there and Chaos continues to pave the road of success for itself with that victory now in the bank. Glory fucking be to Chaos Theory.”
He lashes out at the air with a consecutive flurry of low, middle, and surprisingly a high roundhouse kick to finish it though given his height it’s a bit more on the awkward side as he twists back around, steadying himself.
Nate: “All these claims to victory, and now here we are fighting to be the inaugural winners of this tag tournament to get ourselves another crack at those tag titles that should’ve been rightfully ours. This time around though, we’re ensuring that the day that awaits us is going to be a reality and not a dream. Before that though, we got this little scuffle to get sorted out first with these other folk who think they can stomp into our yard and take away our claim to challenge once again.”
A punch ripples through the air, leaving an audible whooshing noise in its wake.
Nate: “The Fenix siblings…ah, another family pairing that we have to deal with once again. Were the two of you paying any attention to that last family we crushed from a couple weeks ago? The Novas? Practically cleaved a kid in two before putting him six feet under for a defiant win in our column. However, this isn’t about boasting past achievements when there’s still work to be done, and all I’ve really cared about going forward since what happened at God Amongst Men is the present and how it’s always been in the hands of Chaos Theory to shape it how we see fit. Why us? Look at our name again and you’ll find your answer.”
Answer air rippling punch is thrown forward with an audible grunt.
Nate: “Ever since that event, PRICE and I have been determined to see success come back our way again in order to make it up to Spike after the injuries that we suffered at the hands of the Dead End Express. PRICE got himself a title shot, I got my vengeance against one of the Haggards, and now we landed ourselves in deep water with this tournament. If this isn’t a story setup for success, then we’re really going against the grain but…when haven’t we?”
Nate chuckles as he takes a pause in his striking, wiping away some of the sweat from his body.
Nate: “Allow me to put it bluntly: I don’t care if you’re family, best friends, or strange bedfellows. You stand against the tide of chaos, and you’re going to find yourself being drowned by the raging flood that comes rushing out to meet you. The floodgates have long been open and there is no stopping that which will not heed to anyone or anything until it is satisfied with its work. Your story is going to meet its end at our hands because Chaos Theory has the baddest sons of bitches to walk this damn planet and that isn’t a statement, that’s a straight fact.”
The Whaler rolls his shoulders a few times before taking a fighting stance and begins falling back into rhythm with his strikes.
Nate: “But aside from petty families trying to take scraps from us, there’s this BDSM or whatever the hell they are freaks in that freakshow of Hypnos and Eethe. Man…I don’t even know where to begin with you two. I’ve heard of some real trick ass people walking around back in the States in the Southern region and Sin City area, but this…it’s like a discount, Walmart version of The Twilight Zone whenever I look over. This is a team that we’re supposed to be concerned about?”
A punch strikes through the air less ferociously but is quickly followed by a rising knee lift, producing the air rippling noise.
Nate: “Last I checked, the time for blood had already passed when it was still October and not lovey-dovey season but hey, I don’t judge where I’m from. Just as long as you’re aware that the only blood that’s going to be spilled first will be yours. When it comes Chaos Theory, bloodshed is a constant thirst that needs to be quenched and with an extra pair of bodies in the mix who seem to delight in it, though in a Hostel kind of way, it makes for the perfect crowning moment to showcase that we are, and always have been, the top dawgs.”
One final punch is thrown against the air before the arm is retracted, Nate running a hand down his face to get rid of some of the sweat.
Nate: “Adrenaline XIV is all about setting things up for the way that all the pieces for us should fall into place. Line the dominos up, and then watch them fall one by one until we get what we deserve and that’s a bloody victory. This tournament was ours from the start, even as late entries, but everyone should know by this fucking point: You. Never. Count. Chaos. Out.”
He turns to the camera, giving a cut-throat gesture with his thumb.
Nate: “That damned tournament is going to be ours. For myself, for PRICE, and for Spike. This isn’t a theoretical statement ladies and gents. This…is a goddamned fact.”
A door off screen is audibly heard opening, forcing Nate to turn and meet whoever entered unannounced.
PRICE: “Nate…the fuck?”
Nate: “What?”
PRICE: “I…lost my train of thought. Anyway, stash is low. Can you get us more?”
Fade out.
The ongoing recording shows Chaos Theory member, Nate Pierce, actively practicing some form of martial arts in his private quarters at CT’s private lodgings. A red headband is tied around his forehead as he continuously punches the air with alternating strikes, torso glistening with sweat from the moderate intensity of the regiment he’s currently putting himself through.
Nate: “Hah….last show had a killer ending if I do say so myself. Practically bisected little Otto there and Chaos continues to pave the road of success for itself with that victory now in the bank. Glory fucking be to Chaos Theory.”
He lashes out at the air with a consecutive flurry of low, middle, and surprisingly a high roundhouse kick to finish it though given his height it’s a bit more on the awkward side as he twists back around, steadying himself.
Nate: “All these claims to victory, and now here we are fighting to be the inaugural winners of this tag tournament to get ourselves another crack at those tag titles that should’ve been rightfully ours. This time around though, we’re ensuring that the day that awaits us is going to be a reality and not a dream. Before that though, we got this little scuffle to get sorted out first with these other folk who think they can stomp into our yard and take away our claim to challenge once again.”
A punch ripples through the air, leaving an audible whooshing noise in its wake.
Nate: “The Fenix siblings…ah, another family pairing that we have to deal with once again. Were the two of you paying any attention to that last family we crushed from a couple weeks ago? The Novas? Practically cleaved a kid in two before putting him six feet under for a defiant win in our column. However, this isn’t about boasting past achievements when there’s still work to be done, and all I’ve really cared about going forward since what happened at God Amongst Men is the present and how it’s always been in the hands of Chaos Theory to shape it how we see fit. Why us? Look at our name again and you’ll find your answer.”
Answer air rippling punch is thrown forward with an audible grunt.
Nate: “Ever since that event, PRICE and I have been determined to see success come back our way again in order to make it up to Spike after the injuries that we suffered at the hands of the Dead End Express. PRICE got himself a title shot, I got my vengeance against one of the Haggards, and now we landed ourselves in deep water with this tournament. If this isn’t a story setup for success, then we’re really going against the grain but…when haven’t we?”
Nate chuckles as he takes a pause in his striking, wiping away some of the sweat from his body.
Nate: “Allow me to put it bluntly: I don’t care if you’re family, best friends, or strange bedfellows. You stand against the tide of chaos, and you’re going to find yourself being drowned by the raging flood that comes rushing out to meet you. The floodgates have long been open and there is no stopping that which will not heed to anyone or anything until it is satisfied with its work. Your story is going to meet its end at our hands because Chaos Theory has the baddest sons of bitches to walk this damn planet and that isn’t a statement, that’s a straight fact.”
The Whaler rolls his shoulders a few times before taking a fighting stance and begins falling back into rhythm with his strikes.
Nate: “But aside from petty families trying to take scraps from us, there’s this BDSM or whatever the hell they are freaks in that freakshow of Hypnos and Eethe. Man…I don’t even know where to begin with you two. I’ve heard of some real trick ass people walking around back in the States in the Southern region and Sin City area, but this…it’s like a discount, Walmart version of The Twilight Zone whenever I look over. This is a team that we’re supposed to be concerned about?”
A punch strikes through the air less ferociously but is quickly followed by a rising knee lift, producing the air rippling noise.
Nate: “Last I checked, the time for blood had already passed when it was still October and not lovey-dovey season but hey, I don’t judge where I’m from. Just as long as you’re aware that the only blood that’s going to be spilled first will be yours. When it comes Chaos Theory, bloodshed is a constant thirst that needs to be quenched and with an extra pair of bodies in the mix who seem to delight in it, though in a Hostel kind of way, it makes for the perfect crowning moment to showcase that we are, and always have been, the top dawgs.”
One final punch is thrown against the air before the arm is retracted, Nate running a hand down his face to get rid of some of the sweat.
Nate: “Adrenaline XIV is all about setting things up for the way that all the pieces for us should fall into place. Line the dominos up, and then watch them fall one by one until we get what we deserve and that’s a bloody victory. This tournament was ours from the start, even as late entries, but everyone should know by this fucking point: You. Never. Count. Chaos. Out.”
He turns to the camera, giving a cut-throat gesture with his thumb.
Nate: “That damned tournament is going to be ours. For myself, for PRICE, and for Spike. This isn’t a theoretical statement ladies and gents. This…is a goddamned fact.”
A door off screen is audibly heard opening, forcing Nate to turn and meet whoever entered unannounced.
PRICE: “Nate…the fuck?”
Nate: “What?”
PRICE: “I…lost my train of thought. Anyway, stash is low. Can you get us more?”
Fade out.