Post by thewarchild on Jul 30, 2016 12:31:55 GMT -6
Joanna Thade: Will only be a moment. Got to look my best for our sister.
Emma Carlisle: She's our sister. She understands your aversions better than tardiness.
Joanna Thade: Bear with me Goldie, please.
Joanna Thade: As crazy as that is
Joanna Thade: Nothing.
Emma Carlisle: незрелые неприлично ленивым пизда
Emma Carlisle: Joanna, for the love of...
Emma Carlisle: Do you expect to make us late, Joanna? I know your aversions to this sort of thing but this is steadily making way into the realm of ridiculous…
Emma Carlisle: Jo-Dear?
Joanna Thade: This isn’t me… you’ve cursed me, Goldie… lifted me to a position I can't sustain. I… I’m not a leader!
Dear Journal,
I thought it best to write in you as Goldie takes us home. I know Journal, it’s been a while since I wrote in you for just the joy of your snide comments. But Management has finally done the right things and put Goldie and I back together in the ring. I’m so happy Journal, and thank you I’m glad you agree with my point of view. Almost everything is looking up Journal, Goldie is going to help me with leading the chosen, we’re working together, Zahara and I managed to see eye to eye about our most recent confrontation, and finally Goldie and I can show the world that we’re more than smoke, mirrors, and a twisted view.
But Journal but, Shields’ sessions with Goldie are bring back the old her, the one that speaks in such a way she doesn’t truly acknowledge herself. This one, that one, old one, new one, Journal they are all my Goldie, and I don’t care what name she settles on, she’s my Golden Death Princess. We’re not perfect, noone is Journal, not even the King of corruption and decay or his court jester.
Oh yes Journal, the opponents that management sought to grant my request against are the two man children that can’t look past their own brilliance to see the kingdom crumbling around them. Ryder and English, the two that at one point stood as separate sources of toxic waste, eroding this company’s foundation for their own personal gain, and have let the company limp on as they turned their sights on each other. No Journal, I’m not underestimating them, I understand that even false gods have to have enough power to deceive the masses. None are better than these two demigods.
One that would be considered a cockroach, or social pariah casing a meaningless trinket in hopes of legitimizing his existence. Forgetting the fact that all the gold in the world doesn’t mean you matter, that calling yourself king doesn’t make you one, that holding a belt isn’t the same as being a champion. But tis a lesson he’ll have to learn on his own Journal. Hmm? I’m not one to teach it, I learned the worthlessness of possessions in a way that would break someone as mentally fragile as The Blade. Journal he embodies his name more than even he knows. Oh yes, I understand just how sharp his wit is, Journal, and his mouth is truly a weapon in it’s own right, but any good smith can make a blade look sharp and shiny. The true test of the weapon comes when it’s struck. A good blade, Journal, will defuse the force through its core, remaining intact and able to continue the fight , but a blade with more polish than substance, sounds familiar right? Shatters, as its core is unable to deal with the pressure brought upon it. And thus Journal, Ryder Blade’s weakness, as English knows too well, is himself. Regardless of what happens this week, Ryder falls at Heatstroke, unable to take the pressure that the corrupt king and Death bring with them.
Then we have the King himself. The one I’ve wanted to confront from the very beginning. You see Journal, English himself is nothing to have issue with, he puts the company in the public’s mind, he draws a crowd, and defends his belt more than other, paper, champions. All and all a king of kings if you will permit me Journal. But then you look at what he does IN the company and the gold begins to tarnish, and corrode. Playing puppeteer with a group of lackies truly beneath him. Now don’t go there Journal, that is an issue I was about to bring up. Goldie and I do have followers, but we let them live and breath as they will, not as we demand. We pull back the curtain and enlighten them to lies society tells, English spins the lies to remind his puppets of their place. Making sure his strings are as apart of them as their own limbs, unable to strike him if they ever get the opportunity. Journal, English is a king, a worthy one, but like King John the crown has spoiled the man wearing it. No more is Casanova the a man, he’s a mastermind, that knows exactly how to play the chessboard. Mark my words Journal, English will use this match to better his odds at Heatstroke more than anyone else.
Together Journal? Well together they are two wolves sharing a piece of meat, ready to implode the second one crosses the other. And that is how Goldie and I will approach this. We won’t turn on each other, we won’t question the other’s motives and actions. We will work as we always have, using each motion, every strike as a means to one up the other. Goldie and I have always sought to outdo the other. From our first blood match, where I pulled out switchblade and Goldie a barbwire baseball bat. Then there was our destruction of Candicane and Cherrypop, oh Journal, you should see Candi, I still can feel her shiver when I caress her scars from our play time in GPW. Goldie’s use of the steel chair on the neon cheerleaders, mine against Constance. It’s a circle without end, and Journal, I relish to see what we do against these two. The corrupt king and the jester he’s lead around waiting for the time to end the game, will face the unified front of War and Death.
Never forget, Journal, the fact that our two forces fuel each other. War supplies Death with the bodies and souls of those lost on its fields, Death then gives War the pain and anger of loss to rally new bodies and souls to the next field. As long as greed, hate, grief, and lust exist, so shall our dance of one upmanship. Don’t get me wrong Journal, I love Goldie and trust her with my heart and life, but I will prove that I’m the superior warrior. She can be better everywhere else, but in the heat of the moment, where actions and passion can decide the result, War reigns supreme.
Read this how you will simple sheep and my Princess, but as Death takes the weight off my shoulders, she releases me from the shackles that have held me back for these past few months. Management has seen fit to reunite those sworn to Chaos, and Chaos is what shall rule this match. It won’t be the flash of the Blade, the tactical prowess of the unyielding King, the methodical mutilation of Death, no none of those will be on full display for risk of showing their hand before the big dance. No, Journal, and all those reading, it will be the unbridled passion and deranged carnage of War, whom has no such care or concern, since my opportunity to cement myself amongst the Gods of Visionaries is tonight. After all it is the God of War that can wipe out the pantheon for no other reason than boredom, and right now I’ve something to prove. Watch this Breakthrough Journal, I’m out to prove that everyone here is mortal, even the God King and his pathetic toys.
Luca: Lady Thor, if you don’t hurry we’ll end up keeping Lady Death waiting. Your viewing public awaits.
Joanna Thade: It seems that before I step into the ring with four lost souls and one of my sisters, that VoW’s management has seen fit to grant me my request. A battlefield reunion with my love and partner in destruction, against the best the company has to offer. Casanova English and Ryder Blade a pairing more fit for Doctor Phil than opposed to War and Death. But c’est la vie, and I shall embrace what life gives me. Sending your world champion and number one contender to send a message is a pathetic attempt to silence those that see you for the corporate cowards you are.
Joanna Thade: You see English it doesn’t take much to draw a crowd. Just stepping out in my armor has done that, so what is it that you could offer as champion that Death or I couldn’t? Our view on the world, our exuberance do just as much as your talk shows and media abuse. Yes, abuse, I’ve seen how you use your influence as champion, to not only bring a person’s sins to light, but to use them against them. Should make this week easy on you, Death and I have plenty of sins, but unlike most of your opposition we bear them to the world unabashed.
Try dear champion of the Visionary World, try and make us back down, try and break us, embarrass us, we’re quite good at that ourselves or did you miss that part of Fate of the Gods as you prepared to destroy your partner this week. That’s right Ryder I didn’t forget about you, but maybe English did, after all you were so close to taking his coveted title away and now, mere weeks before you get another chance, he lets you in enough to learn his weakness.
Joanna Thade: Come now Ryder even you and your love for pointing out other’s hypocrisy should be able to see that either the decaying king is going to use Death and I to soften you up for him to later destroy, or work with you so you let your guard down so he can jab that knife right into your spine. And if you’re having to watch your back that means you leave your front unguarded. Face it Ryder you are to this match, what these people are to the government, a pawn meant for sacrifice to further the game.
That’s right everyone, we’re all expendable, look upon the media circus that is BLM vs ALM or CLM, Trump and Hillary, or if you really want a laugh the education system. The government is tearing the nation apart to load their pockets, we are nothing more than dollars to them. Look at what started this nation, people standing against an establishment that no longer stood for their interest. People like you, you, you, and people like me, whom the system failed. And as much as I relish pain, blood, destruction, as much as I feel the desire to receive my pound of flesh from those that wronged me, I refuse to let some entity use me as a puppet, dancing according to how they pull my strings.
Joanna Thade: Dear people, look upon me and understand my plight. I step in the ring with VoW’s Hillary and Trump this week. One that seeks to divide the company as he sees fight, promoting those whom have aligned themselves with his cause and alienating those that work hard to make our company better. His speeches earn cheers and boos as the people grow tired of the status quo that he claims to change but merely bolsters his defences. Then we have the one that will undercut all those that get in his way, pay for protection while guilting the people to cheer for him as if he’s the victim. The people shouldn’t have to pick between the lesser of two evils, but rather look forward to change and hope that comes with a true understanding of the power the champion wields.
But management doesn’t want the public to see it as such, so they use Death and I as scapegoats to distract from the lack of choice given to its viewers, they just want to sell tickets and seats. Like the media would rather you focus on hating each other as story after story of violence against one group or another is shoved down your throat so that you forget that some of the officials on the ballot have been in office longer than you’ve been alive. Don’t look at the terms served or policies these people have forced upon, look at the Black Lives Matter rally that devolved into a riot, don’t notice the dynasty forming from your votes, no, it’s more important to know about this rumor based scandle.
We’re at war people, VoW, America, the world as a whole. The masses hold the power but only the select few are allowed to do anything with it. Those chosen by the haves, as the have nots fight over scraps. Death and I fight for truth, and pulling back the veil that binds you to the machine society is. We are tired of the lies, the deceit, we say what we feel and fight for what we believe in. Chaos isn’t a force of destruction, or a god that wants your servitude.
Joanna Thade: Chaos is a force of change, it opposes repetitive order, and mindless servitude. I am Joanna Thade, falsely convicted daughter of Lily Hade, survivor of the failing system for orphaned children, child and adult mental facilities, abuse, being ostracized, and vilified. I’ve been fighting since I was five to have my voice heard and be saved from the judgements of society. And now I bring the fight, the war, to those that seek to not only impose their will on those they deem beneath them, but continue to spread lies and filth to the people that deserve better.
Go forth my Chosen, listeners, and followers. Go forth and stand up for your beliefs whatever they may be. Don’t let those that know nothing about you or your life control how you find happiness. I walk into Breakthrough with nothing to gain, and nothing to lose. Just a fight between me and those that would seek to use me as an example to silence the demand for more of those in power. I am the Horsewoman War clad in armor for battle as I always am, for I fight the unending war for Chaos as it seeks to change the world and free it from the shackles of the status quo.
Emma Carlisle: This one’s point is quite simple, and that is that the Chaossworn shall do what we always do: sow chaos and suffering, bringing the dark truths to living light. Your champions are flawed, your contenders weak. English and Blade will suffer, win or lose, and only we shall stand when the battle is done.
I know my words are only a mask and that she’ll see through them but I refuse to acknowledge that my storm hasn’t been quelled in the least. Goldie set this move up to get me away from these thoughts, and yet the weight of the leadership has only gotten heavier. Constant calls and texts about... do my eyes really look that bad? No, no, no, this won’t do. Where’s the eyeliner?
Emma Carlisle: She's our sister. She understands your aversions better than tardiness.
Well of course you say that, but a few minutes is all I need. I need to gather my strength, calm my mind. English, Blade, Massey, Saint, Datura, Ophilia, Ellimere, Luca, Pandora, Katalina, and even Goldie they all demand a piece of me soon and I’m not sure I have enough pieces to give. But I can’t think about that.
Joanna Thade: Bear with me Goldie, please.
Please Goldie, just let me steady myself, I’ll run the sink so you know I’m at least doing something and not just wasting time. Thank you, might be hard to hear but that sigh is enough. I love you…
Oops out loud, oh well. Heard or not, it changes nothing. I’m still trapped, not by walls or chains. No, I refuse to experience that again. Yet I’ve accepted a seat far above what I am capable and have no way of surrendering it.That’s not the way it is earned And maybe it is for this reason someone like Goldie, like English are meant to be at the top. I’m best served as the solider, in battle, unleashing pain and agony that makes those at the top shiver. The thorn that forever resides in the side of the one seated on the throne.
Ah my crooked smile. It’s served me well, a look that is uniquely mine and at the same time such a mask. Naturally it means I’ve come to an understanding I can live with, tactically I employ it to sow fear. But right now it’s the former, I know I can’t handle my mantle. Leaderess, ha. I’m no leader, Ophelia knows it even if Emma cannot see my weakness. I’m flawed, I’m weak, worthless outside of my element. Take me from the battle and I’ve nothing.
Joanna Thade: Nothing.
Barely a whisper, is that all? I’m yelling at myself and all my lungs can manage is a whisper? How pathetic, and perfect. I’ll soon stand before the corrupt king and his court jester and for all my long winded criticisms I’ll merely topple over due to self hatred.
Emma Carlisle: незрелые неприлично ленивым пизда
Hmm? Immature? Well sure but you don’t want me looking less than my best. Indecent is something I strive for with my wit and understanding of my desires. But calling me a lazy pussy, Goldie, oh hell no.
I can’t stop my fist, I can barely hold back for yelling. But that’s fine, it’s fine. NO! IT DAMN WELL ISN’T! Fuck all of this clutter, I don’t care if I break the glass or makeup I won’t stand for such a slight when it is you whom have placed the wretched burden on me. You whom I can’t live without, whom knows my every heartbeat. To slight me as such is to show your arrogance as to my pain, my suffering. If you want a Queen tonight, you had better be ready to take the crown Princess. I can’t bear these shackles, but the floor is cold and calming.
Emma Carlisle: Joanna, for the love of...
Oh cute, knocking on an unlocked door. Come now Goldie, ah there she is, the warmth of her frustration is almost palpable.
Emma Carlisle: Do you expect to make us late, Joanna? I know your aversions to this sort of thing but this is steadily making way into the realm of ridiculous…
Come on, not in the shower, not at the sink, there you go, I’m down here. Down as low and hidden as I can be, unable to face my own reflection yet your gaze is what I need. I crave, none of my thoughts matter when I know you’re there to make sure I don’t lose myself.
Emma Carlisle: Jo-Dear?
Am I cut? Does it really matter? She’s here and those seas she has as eyes tell me all I need. She loves me, as much a mess as I am, as unstable and imperfect. We’ll beat English and Ryder, or bleed trying. Most would call her embrace cold, or icy, but it’s home. My altar, my temple, is her. I’ll let you know, Goldie, just let me hold you a little.
Dear Journal,
I thought it best to write in you as Goldie takes us home. I know Journal, it’s been a while since I wrote in you for just the joy of your snide comments. But Management has finally done the right things and put Goldie and I back together in the ring. I’m so happy Journal, and thank you I’m glad you agree with my point of view. Almost everything is looking up Journal, Goldie is going to help me with leading the chosen, we’re working together, Zahara and I managed to see eye to eye about our most recent confrontation, and finally Goldie and I can show the world that we’re more than smoke, mirrors, and a twisted view.
But Journal but, Shields’ sessions with Goldie are bring back the old her, the one that speaks in such a way she doesn’t truly acknowledge herself. This one, that one, old one, new one, Journal they are all my Goldie, and I don’t care what name she settles on, she’s my Golden Death Princess. We’re not perfect, noone is Journal, not even the King of corruption and decay or his court jester.
Oh yes Journal, the opponents that management sought to grant my request against are the two man children that can’t look past their own brilliance to see the kingdom crumbling around them. Ryder and English, the two that at one point stood as separate sources of toxic waste, eroding this company’s foundation for their own personal gain, and have let the company limp on as they turned their sights on each other. No Journal, I’m not underestimating them, I understand that even false gods have to have enough power to deceive the masses. None are better than these two demigods.
One that would be considered a cockroach, or social pariah casing a meaningless trinket in hopes of legitimizing his existence. Forgetting the fact that all the gold in the world doesn’t mean you matter, that calling yourself king doesn’t make you one, that holding a belt isn’t the same as being a champion. But tis a lesson he’ll have to learn on his own Journal. Hmm? I’m not one to teach it, I learned the worthlessness of possessions in a way that would break someone as mentally fragile as The Blade. Journal he embodies his name more than even he knows. Oh yes, I understand just how sharp his wit is, Journal, and his mouth is truly a weapon in it’s own right, but any good smith can make a blade look sharp and shiny. The true test of the weapon comes when it’s struck. A good blade, Journal, will defuse the force through its core, remaining intact and able to continue the fight , but a blade with more polish than substance, sounds familiar right? Shatters, as its core is unable to deal with the pressure brought upon it. And thus Journal, Ryder Blade’s weakness, as English knows too well, is himself. Regardless of what happens this week, Ryder falls at Heatstroke, unable to take the pressure that the corrupt king and Death bring with them.
Then we have the King himself. The one I’ve wanted to confront from the very beginning. You see Journal, English himself is nothing to have issue with, he puts the company in the public’s mind, he draws a crowd, and defends his belt more than other, paper, champions. All and all a king of kings if you will permit me Journal. But then you look at what he does IN the company and the gold begins to tarnish, and corrode. Playing puppeteer with a group of lackies truly beneath him. Now don’t go there Journal, that is an issue I was about to bring up. Goldie and I do have followers, but we let them live and breath as they will, not as we demand. We pull back the curtain and enlighten them to lies society tells, English spins the lies to remind his puppets of their place. Making sure his strings are as apart of them as their own limbs, unable to strike him if they ever get the opportunity. Journal, English is a king, a worthy one, but like King John the crown has spoiled the man wearing it. No more is Casanova the a man, he’s a mastermind, that knows exactly how to play the chessboard. Mark my words Journal, English will use this match to better his odds at Heatstroke more than anyone else.
Together Journal? Well together they are two wolves sharing a piece of meat, ready to implode the second one crosses the other. And that is how Goldie and I will approach this. We won’t turn on each other, we won’t question the other’s motives and actions. We will work as we always have, using each motion, every strike as a means to one up the other. Goldie and I have always sought to outdo the other. From our first blood match, where I pulled out switchblade and Goldie a barbwire baseball bat. Then there was our destruction of Candicane and Cherrypop, oh Journal, you should see Candi, I still can feel her shiver when I caress her scars from our play time in GPW. Goldie’s use of the steel chair on the neon cheerleaders, mine against Constance. It’s a circle without end, and Journal, I relish to see what we do against these two. The corrupt king and the jester he’s lead around waiting for the time to end the game, will face the unified front of War and Death.
Never forget, Journal, the fact that our two forces fuel each other. War supplies Death with the bodies and souls of those lost on its fields, Death then gives War the pain and anger of loss to rally new bodies and souls to the next field. As long as greed, hate, grief, and lust exist, so shall our dance of one upmanship. Don’t get me wrong Journal, I love Goldie and trust her with my heart and life, but I will prove that I’m the superior warrior. She can be better everywhere else, but in the heat of the moment, where actions and passion can decide the result, War reigns supreme.
Read this how you will simple sheep and my Princess, but as Death takes the weight off my shoulders, she releases me from the shackles that have held me back for these past few months. Management has seen fit to reunite those sworn to Chaos, and Chaos is what shall rule this match. It won’t be the flash of the Blade, the tactical prowess of the unyielding King, the methodical mutilation of Death, no none of those will be on full display for risk of showing their hand before the big dance. No, Journal, and all those reading, it will be the unbridled passion and deranged carnage of War, whom has no such care or concern, since my opportunity to cement myself amongst the Gods of Visionaries is tonight. After all it is the God of War that can wipe out the pantheon for no other reason than boredom, and right now I’ve something to prove. Watch this Breakthrough Journal, I’m out to prove that everyone here is mortal, even the God King and his pathetic toys.
Keep things simple and on point. Focus on the message, not the crowd, not the fact that we’ve nothing on paper. No, this is about reminding the world, let alone English and Ryder why we are are feared. Why we War and Death, not Sunshine and Rainbows. I’ve only one shot at this unlike Death. She, as always, has another chance. She is inescapable, while I'm staring at a perfect opportunity that may never come again. And it comes at the best time. I'm not longer burdened with so many why's, what's, and how's I can't think straight, while the false prophet gets to play puppeteer with the social media loudmouth.
Luca: Lady Thor, if you don’t hurry we’ll end up keeping Lady Death waiting. Your viewing public awaits.
Did she really? Only Luca... but nickname aside, she’s right. I may draw a crowd but that’s to be expected when you wear war armor out in public. Time to turn some heads and enlighten those that have been prisoner for too long.
The light burns but the gasps from just walking out are exactly why I made this armor. Pure spectacle, but all function, unlike most video game armor that people have come to expect. Luca has the perfect angle I’m sure I look so strange, blue hair, war armor, a huge hammer, and camera woman, fuck they’ll think it’s for a film...focus Joanna, focus. You’re on camera, now is not the time to get lost in thought, though the pose helps distract from that.
Joanna Thade: It seems that before I step into the ring with four lost souls and one of my sisters, that VoW’s management has seen fit to grant me my request. A battlefield reunion with my love and partner in destruction, against the best the company has to offer. Casanova English and Ryder Blade a pairing more fit for Doctor Phil than opposed to War and Death. But c’est la vie, and I shall embrace what life gives me. Sending your world champion and number one contender to send a message is a pathetic attempt to silence those that see you for the corporate cowards you are.
Of course that gets the attention of all these sheep. Look upon the visage of that is War, and hear my message. Let the curtain of society be pulled from yours eyes as my words reach your unused minds. Let me free you from the shackles, sure laugh and snicker. I may look ridiculous to you, but you’re listening none the less. Even Luca as a twinkle in her eyes, I guess a good speech was in order for such an occasion, after all first match after our move. Each your heart out Malibu. But I need to get moving, Goldie may have farther to walk, but I’ve got to make my way through this sea of people.
Try dear champion of the Visionary World, try and make us back down, try and break us, embarrass us, we’re quite good at that ourselves or did you miss that part of Fate of the Gods as you prepared to destroy your partner this week. That’s right Ryder I didn’t forget about you, but maybe English did, after all you were so close to taking his coveted title away and now, mere weeks before you get another chance, he lets you in enough to learn his weakness.
Divide and conquer, it won’t break English, but he’s king for a reason. No, this is for Ryder, after all they’re a team, and only one of them has to waiver for them to collapse under the onslaught Goldie and I unleash each time we step in the ring together. But it’s what should be expected when it’s unity and synergy against mistrust and raw talent.
The crowd has doubled, some smiling, even asking for autographs. I don’t mind, really, it’s nice to get this kind of attention instead of what I got at the asylum. And to find someone wearing our shit, clearly persistence and truth pay off. Either that or Hephty is just that recognisable as I use him to hammer my points home. Sad that their faces run and voices run together, but I’m focused on Breakthrough, and leaving my mark. I’ve only one chance at English if Emma manages the coup d'etat come Heatstroke.
Joanna Thade: Come now Ryder even you and your love for pointing out other’s hypocrisy should be able to see that either the decaying king is going to use Death and I to soften you up for him to later destroy, or work with you so you let your guard down so he can jab that knife right into your spine. And if you’re having to watch your back that means you leave your front unguarded. Face it Ryder you are to this match, what these people are to the government, a pawn meant for sacrifice to further the game.
That’s right everyone, we’re all expendable, look upon the media circus that is BLM vs ALM or CLM, Trump and Hillary, or if you really want a laugh the education system. The government is tearing the nation apart to load their pockets, we are nothing more than dollars to them. Look at what started this nation, people standing against an establishment that no longer stood for their interest. People like you, you, you, and people like me, whom the system failed. And as much as I relish pain, blood, destruction, as much as I feel the desire to receive my pound of flesh from those that wronged me, I refuse to let some entity use me as a puppet, dancing according to how they pull my strings.
Hook, line, and ensight passion. Connecting VoW to the insanity in the world around these people is easier than seducing a horny man with a corset. Now to tie it all up in a nice bow and smash it with my hammer.
Joanna Thade: Dear people, look upon me and understand my plight. I step in the ring with VoW’s Hillary and Trump this week. One that seeks to divide the company as he sees fight, promoting those whom have aligned themselves with his cause and alienating those that work hard to make our company better. His speeches earn cheers and boos as the people grow tired of the status quo that he claims to change but merely bolsters his defences. Then we have the one that will undercut all those that get in his way, pay for protection while guilting the people to cheer for him as if he’s the victim. The people shouldn’t have to pick between the lesser of two evils, but rather look forward to change and hope that comes with a true understanding of the power the champion wields.
But management doesn’t want the public to see it as such, so they use Death and I as scapegoats to distract from the lack of choice given to its viewers, they just want to sell tickets and seats. Like the media would rather you focus on hating each other as story after story of violence against one group or another is shoved down your throat so that you forget that some of the officials on the ballot have been in office longer than you’ve been alive. Don’t look at the terms served or policies these people have forced upon, look at the Black Lives Matter rally that devolved into a riot, don’t notice the dynasty forming from your votes, no, it’s more important to know about this rumor based scandle.
We’re at war people, VoW, America, the world as a whole. The masses hold the power but only the select few are allowed to do anything with it. Those chosen by the haves, as the have nots fight over scraps. Death and I fight for truth, and pulling back the veil that binds you to the machine society is. We are tired of the lies, the deceit, we say what we feel and fight for what we believe in. Chaos isn’t a force of destruction, or a god that wants your servitude.
That’s right Joanna, remember who you are and what kept you alive when you only saw darkness. Bring these people to the light and show English and Ryder that while you may not be considered worthy of the belt, you’re the most dangerous person in VoW. Ryder may have the mouth that won’t stop, English may be king, but I’ve always been the Herald and the Horsewomen are riding upon VoW.
Give the public a little spin, and hammer swings, speak the truth of the twisted cruel world and witness the lights coming on in the people’s eyes. Oh English you sit on sets yet you don’t walk amongst the people. You fight for yourself and your championship but your forget that the people are what keep us around. We need them, and they need us. To free them from the enslavement of society and the grind of everyday life. You may be champion, but slowly Death and I are cleansing the people of the poison they’re force fed everyday.
Joanna Thade: Chaos is a force of change, it opposes repetitive order, and mindless servitude. I am Joanna Thade, falsely convicted daughter of Lily Hade, survivor of the failing system for orphaned children, child and adult mental facilities, abuse, being ostracized, and vilified. I’ve been fighting since I was five to have my voice heard and be saved from the judgements of society. And now I bring the fight, the war, to those that seek to not only impose their will on those they deem beneath them, but continue to spread lies and filth to the people that deserve better.
Go forth my Chosen, listeners, and followers. Go forth and stand up for your beliefs whatever they may be. Don’t let those that know nothing about you or your life control how you find happiness. I walk into Breakthrough with nothing to gain, and nothing to lose. Just a fight between me and those that would seek to use me as an example to silence the demand for more of those in power. I am the Horsewoman War clad in armor for battle as I always am, for I fight the unending war for Chaos as it seeks to change the world and free it from the shackles of the status quo.
Thunderous applause and yet I hear familiar footsteps. Plenty of smiles, some dissenting faces, either my words or my reputation rub them the wrong way, oh well. Ah, they’re dispersing and there she is. Luca sees her to so I merely have to fall into step with my dark counterpart. I love when she goes all out for a message. But she’s aware of me so time to wrap this up.
Emma Carlisle: This one’s point is quite simple, and that is that the Chaossworn shall do what we always do: sow chaos and suffering, bringing the dark truths to living light. Your champions are flawed, your contenders weak. English and Blade will suffer, win or lose, and only we shall stand when the battle is done.
Well make it easy for me why don’t you. I’ll just continue where I left off and see where Death takes me. Time to end the reign of those that are no better than management. Seeking to use the locker room for their own gains. It’s time to free the masses and show that we’re in a time where all enterprises fall, and we must beware of the wolves that haunt us all. Even if those wolves seem untouchable, anything with a heartbeat bleeds, and everything that bleeds can be killed.
