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Azrael Erebus · (07-20-2018)

When the spaceman was last observed, he was getting a bite to eat at a pizzeria, with the ever notorious, always vivacious - Rebel Star. A chance encounter had brought them together. However, it could have been possible, that it was something more. Perhaps, fate came into play. Maybe it was ol' lady luck, blowing on the dice, before they were tossed down in the high stakes game of life. It could have simply been a case of serendipity. Or just flat out, right place, right time, coincidence. An accidental encounter in its finest. Whatever the reason may have been. There was no denying that there was a spark ignited. That spontaneous, impulse that fueled most of Azrael's, courses in life. The fly by the seat of one's pants attitude that was the driving force behind the actions, so long ago, when an alien took it upon himself, to steal a spaceship.

To set out on a mission and travel the stars, no matter how reckless the journey. That reckless journey... of course, would prove to be extremely chaotic, when it saw that spirited alien crash. Yet from that wreckage, a new Azrael would be born, when the living computer and navigation system; called a Gaia, would bond with his essence. Thus forever altering his genetic coding and transforming him into the spaceman that he is today. If it weren't for his extemporaneous, passionate need for adventure and the urge to act on a compulsion, no matter how impetuous or madcap it was, things might have gone very differently for the man from the stars.

Naturally, then he wouldn't have ever encountered, Rebel Star and been stricken with the need to take her on an adventure, offering up the chance to go wherever or whenever, she'd like. Any dimension, all of time, reality and space. Yes, it's a good thing, that Azrael took that risk, so long ago and continues to thrive on his impulses. Though, one wonders, what sort of spaceman would the universe wind up with, if he hadn't? Not a very entertaining spaceman, it would be safe to wager. No, not a very entertaining spaceman, at all. He'd probably be warming up a bowl of soup right now. Or ironing a pair of slacks. Thankfully, that's not what will be showcased. In fact, it might be better off, if one simply removed the idea from any further thoughts, altogether. Instead, it would be best to remember, the moment when Azrael made Rebel an impossible offer and she accepted. What could she have whispered in the spaceman's ear that night to draw a smirk out onto his face?

Yes... well, all sorts of scandalous thoughts could be provoked; however, a dirty mind's predictions shan't prevail. For rather one of the most simple requests, that could have been uttered was whispered that night. Bringing Rebel Star and Azrael Erebus, to the moon. Yes. The moon. It was the sheer whim of something so truly ordinary and mundane to him, seeming to absolutely amaze and enthrall her, that enticed a smirk to cross his face as he snapped his fingers and brought them to the moon. In the exact time it might take someone, to blink an eye. He gazed at her with mild amusement, as she went through some of the stages that one usually faces, when the spaceman whisks them away. Starting with shock, then bewilderment mixed with a dash of fear, followed by confusion and then settling in on awe. That last bit occurred, when he spun her around and she looked upon Earth, from the moon.

"That's Earth? We're on the moon and that's Earth that we're looking at right now?"

Her obvious questions drew a chuckle from him. Despite her not quite being human, she could still certainly play the role to a tee.

"That's the Earth. We're looking at Earth from the moon."

"Shouldn't we be asphyxiating or decompressing in the vacuum of space?"

"Yes, in theory."

"Then... why aren't we?"

"Well, I assumed that wasn't the desired result. So I created a bubble of oxygen and gravity and encased it around us. Was I wrong to do that? Did you secretly want to die of asphyxiation or decompression in the cold, vacuum of space? Because that's a completely rubbish suicide, if you ask me. I mean, it wouldn't be a very... climactic or dramatic, death. Like going out in a hail of gun fire. Or jumping off a high rise building, wearing a trench coat full of candy, so when you make that inevitable contact with the pavement; down below, you explode like a pinata. Though, speaking from experience, death by implosion - like a supernova, never ceases to amaze... especially, when you come back to life. Except that doesn't really count as a suicide. More of an unforeseen result with a happy twist. So I'm not sure that one counts. Anyway, the space death just leaves you floating. Your skin and blood vaporized after ten seconds of exposure, while your body expands outward like a balloon being filled with air. Then your lungs would collapse, and after 30 seconds you would be paralyzed, if you weren’t already dead by this point. Besides, in space, no one can hear you scream. Yet that could have been the point behind it. I suppose as far as deaths go, the space death is the most macho. No one can say that you eternally tapped out screaming like a sissy, if no one can hear you screaming. This wasn't a suicide mission, was it? Oh I hate it when someone wants to go on one of tho... not that I've ever been asked, you see, I just assume that I'd hate it. Yes, that's right. That's what I really meant to say. I assume that would be quite awful. This isn't that though, right?"

Rebel Star looked at him and shook her head - no, as she laughed. This spaceman was an odd sort, in a slightly charming, neurotic kind of way.

"Then I have to ask... why the moon?"

A brief wistful look passed across her face as she turned her attention towards Earth. Taking a seat upon the rocky surface.

"When I first left the factory in Japan. I remember not knowing what I was going to do or what to expect. It was all very overwhelming. Yet, when I was on that boat sailing for the United States, I looked up and the moon was just so outstandingly, beautiful. Breathtaking almost. The first pretty thing that I witnessed, after waking up in that cold, dark factory. Deemed defective. Sentenced to death. It just stuck out to me. As my first real moment of freedom. Ever since then, I always take a moment to look up at the moon. And remember."

A bittersweet laugh escaped Rebel's lips.

"Now, I'm looking at the Earth from the moon and I gotta say, it's weird but comforting. Almost like a special connection. This probably sounds totally lame to a man that can go anywhere."

Dropping down into a sitting position next to Rebel, Azrael raised his left knee and tucked it under his chin, where he rested his head as he cast his eyes onto Earth.

"No. It's not lame. I understand. I've been alive for so long and I've seen so much, I sometimes forget how spectacular new eyes are. To gaze out at something like this, full of such wonder and fascination. Thank you for sharing. For opening these ancient eyes... anew. The view is quite amazing."

Rebel's attention was placed solely, straight ahead as she looked upon the Earth with her keen, fresh perspective. Totally taken aback by this marvelous vision that she had the spaceman to thank for. She didn't notice as he stated his last words, he was looking sidelong at her.

"It is."

With a small, smile to himself, the spaceman cast his eyes down, momentarily. It would appear the spark was kindling. The question was, would the spaceman take the chance and spin that roulette wheel? Go all in. High stakes style? Or would he let things stay as they were, just a night to remember, with a Star, the moon and a view? Alas, this was fated for only time to reveal.

Meanwhile...

In the far off reaches of space.

Deep within the Jara-Deux Quadrant

Next to the the planet Celerphere.

A fleet of strange looking space vessels; hovered, idly in wait.

Within the main hull of the starship, resting at the other vessels' forefront. A small army of hideous space creatures gazed upon a tremendous viewscreen. The image transmitting from it was that of the spaceman and Rebel Star, seated on the moon, enjoying the view of Earth. The sight of this quickly provoked an uproar. Loud grunts of resentment and dissatisfaction, erupted amongst the lot of monstrous beasts. There was pushing and shoving as it was soon becoming clear, these alien freaks were enraged by the sight of something being broadcasted on the monitor. The smart guess, would place the high amount of displeasure, solely upon the man from the stars. After a good portion of this was expelled, one member of this unsightly crew, standing directly in the center of the bunch; at their lead, quickly turned about to face the rest. As he committed this act, an almost immediate hush fell over the ship. It was very apparent after this act, that this one creature held some sort of power or high ranking command over the rest. Though if it wasn't standing in front of them and didn't have this affect over the rest, its ranking wouldn't be as clear. Since all the abnormal aliens looked exactly alike and wore the same strange suit of armor. When you can't decide what to wear assimilate with the herd? Once the bridge of the ship had gone completely silent, the space mutant standing closest to the helm of the ship proceeded to pace; back and forth, in front of the small army of monsters. Stern in tone, this repellent creature began to speak.

"At long last we have discovered the man who thwarted our most certain victory over the planet Ozuul. Over a thousand years of searching, we will finally have the honor of avenging our ancestors. At long last, we will have our... REVENGE!"

A loud boisterous uprising of cheers and screams soon ensued. As the terrible space monsters began to commit to a ritual, not too unfamiliar with jocks and some drunken male, football fans. Although, this act appeared to be far more, aggressive. These freaks began bashing into one another as the roar of their satisfaction permeated the air.

"Today the Jara-Deux Quadrant. Tomorrow... EARTH!"

If these space freaks weren't fired up before, they sure as heck were fighting ready now. Feverish and madly, delirious with the prospect of what was to come, they started bellowing and beating on each other, all the more. This act seemed to increasingly pump them up even more so as they continued to scream out and holler. One of the creatures was even so excited, he reached out and snapped another's neck. This act wasn't appalling to the rest either. In fact, it raised the volume of the yelling and shouting, ten-fold. As their leader halted his pacing and gazed onto the army - his army, with pride. A sinister smirk, slowly overtook his bulbous, potato shaped head.

"Leap Of Faith, brings into view, the option of achieving a briefcase. A chance to face the Engineer. To once again, attempt to claim that Universal title. I have to say, the goal doesn't really scream out to me. As a 2x Universal Champion, why would it? Everyone else contending for the chance to win, it's all so exciting and fresh for them. Save For Robbie and Mr. Chaos. Their hungry eyes are practically devouring that prize. However, I've feel a tad off, about the whole thing. Yes, it's an amazing opportunity. I can't deny that. The Engineer is a mighty force to be reckoned with. Yet I can't help but feel complacent about the whole matter. I actually believe the others are more deserving. That's the honest truth. I know there are times that I can be quite boastful but in this moment, I'm feeling like a different sort of spaceman. Haha! Perhaps my age is finally catching up to me."

"After all, it isn't everyday that Peter Gilmour, will get this type of opportunity. Or wait. That's not right, is it? He simply won't pull it off. The little engine that could but just... never does. He can't. Not when it really counts and he's got to do it, all on his own. Alone. Like a lump of bobbing meat in a shark tank. No, he sure can't. Go on Peter, bring up my recent loss against, Robert Main. Or my loss against D'Ville. Act like we're equals. Please do that. Because even though most of my footage has mysteriously vanished, the history books remain intact and if we were to weigh each other on a giant scale of accomplishments... well, it would be the first time your fat ass tipped the scale in the other direction. Imagine that! The very first time someone besides Robbie Bourbon outweighed you."

"You think I'm afraid of you Peter? That is absolutely adorable. I mean that. Truly, I do. That is literally the most precious thing I've ever heard. I want to hang the moment that you uttered those words on my fridge, so I can always look fondly upon it and remember, the exact moment when I buried you in a pile of blood, cum and shit. Hey Mister Selective Memory. That happened. And it was so worth the repulsiveness. Because even if you deny it and I'm a hundred, million percent certain that you will, every time I look you in the eye, I remember it and I know deep down, you remember it too."

"Enough wasting time though. Lets trek onward to our most deserving candidates, shall we? Starting off with, Christopher Chaos. Peter's former tag partner and role model. I'm not going to lie, you are... in your own way, impressive. You carried Peter Gilmour to victory, like only a tiny handful, can relate with. That is amazing. It's also incredibly stupid. Why you would even put yourself through that is beyond me. What possessed you when Peter, posed this horrible idea to you, that made you think that it was a good plan? Like at what point did you get taken over by the demon of "bad ideas"? Was it before or after you took the meeting with Peter? Come on, don't you dare say, that it was for the challenge. Don't do it, Chris. Don't lie to me. I've been around too long to not know when a possession is occurring. You had to be controlled by some other worldly force. I seen and recognized that. I refuse to believe there was any other reason fueling this choice. I just flat out won't."

"Oh, and while you're getting back to me with the answer on that, why don't you tell me how you gathered that I lost all my matches, since my return? Hmmm? Cause in all seriousness, that's mind boggling. Yes, I have lost two matches, I admit that but lets face it, if you took my place for just one of those matches. Either one will suffice in this example. You more than likely would have died. Or just wish that you were killed. Oh yeah. You would most definitely wish for death. While you recovered, slowly and I mean... slowly. If you ever did fully bounce back to wrestling, you wouldn't be back for a few years. If that. Meanwhile, I can take on the best. Commit to a fight and be tested to my limits, and then go out casually for brunch with my daughter, the very next day. Imagine that. Human. So please bring it. You know, what I'll even help you. I'll do my best to aid you in achieving the prime directive of this fight. To victory. That's right. I certainly will do my best. You know, without making it look too obvious. Why? Why will I do this, Christopher? Because your loss to the Engineer, will be so fucking worth it."

"Michael Graves and Robert Main. I actually legitimately think that you both deserve this. Though, either of you facing Engy, won't nearly be as entertaining as Chris Chaos doing it. I mean, you both know that, right? Sure you do. Peter Gilmour? It's a given loss. Flat out. Been there. Done that. It's literally, a revolving door of examples at this point, to use as a reason for why his loss would be a given. Chris Chaos though, now that's entertainment. Just seeing him get up there and try. Hilarious!"

"On a serious note though, you both are talented and extremely gifted in the ring. Graves it's an honor to face you, for the first time. Admittedly, I didn't view your promos, so I don't know if you feel the same way but in truth, it doesn't really matter cause I respect you in the field of wrestling, regardless. I'm aware of your accomplishments and at some point, I hope to face you, one on one. Robert Main, you put up a heck of a fight. I appreciate it. I do, I prefer the challenge, to the prize. Although, if I hadn't taken you out and gave you more time to recover, we might be telling a different tale. So your welcome for that. You got to face me at a hundred percent. Or damn near close to a hundred percent. Either way, I was the one, who made that happen. Remember that and know that I still haven't forgotten about the favor you owe me."

"Robbie Bourbon and Finn Kuhn. I'll get to you both later. I think I've shared all that I need to. For now. Don't get me wrong, you both are deserving of a shot at the briefcase, that leads you to the prospect of achieving gold. For two very different reasons. Yet, legit reasons, nonetheless. Still, I think those can wait. Till next time."

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