XWF FanBase: The IWC (gets varying reactions in the arenas, but will be worshiped like a god and defended until the end by internet fans; literally has thousands of online dorks logging on to complain anytime they lose a match or don't get pushed right)
Ghost Tank would be seen holding Fuzen inside the large strip of outside land, gently tossing his daughter up into the air, high up, tossing her up until she was eight feet in the air. He'd catch her, though, grinning to her as she giggled in enjoyment. Though, Alysia would see this dangerous behavior and he'd see her come out and instantly after catching Fuzen, he'd hold her behind his back. Alysia was not happy, and made it known,
"Ozzy, that better not be our daughter behind your back, especially after I saw you tossing her around like your opponents."
He held out Fuzen who turned her head to look up at him,
"Dah-dee!"
Both Oswald and Alysia looked at her in astonishment, then they held one another close with Fuzen held close to both
"Dah-dee!"
Ghost Tank chuckled softly, then looked to Alysia
"Looks like she enjoys the flying."
Alysia scowled, but it didn't last thing after how happy it made her that Fuzen was beginning to speak
"Mah-mee!"
Alysia nearly cried right on the spot, and the three went back inside, while Ghost Tank swept Alysia and Fuzen off their feet, and carried them inside.
Ghost Tank stood out in a field, out in some countryside, holding his scythe horizontally across the air before beginning to spin around and around his body, Twirling it around, much like monks treat their Bo staff. He began to blend these movements with parkour elements, much like the promo where he cut through bloody waters. He spun his scythe around and began to move it around his body, until he dipped down and it twirled rapidly up along his back and across the shoulders. As it spun to his head, he moved his upper body and neck, making the scythe seemingly swirl around his shoulders and neck, only to shrug it up into the air, catching it, then slamming the head of the blade into the ground, dragged the blade across the ground, leaving a large gash in the soil, before he brought it to rest along his shoulders.
He sat atop the ledge of a tall building, nearly ten stories tall. The building looked dilapidated, and he simply watched over the cityscape, looking at other tall buildings. He stood up, making his way inside. The video pans down the side of the building, revealing several holes, and showed several 'camps' if one could call them that, of people in sleeping bags, fire inside an empty barrel.
His scythe held out, looking like an arrowhead pointing up, except the blade scraping along the drywall, making a thudding scrape sound throughout the entire level. Few came out from the half shattered, half broken, and bullet hole laden doors, peeking their upper bodies out to look at what was making the noise.
Ghost Tank stopped as they looked at him, looking out from that half-skull mask, wearing the sclera contacts. As they looked upon him, he spoke out in a deep, booming voice;
"Those of you that stay here, shall be reaped. Death comes for you all, and your souls will be rendered from your corpse, to be taken to Purgatory to await Final Judgement. Those that leave, will leave unscathed. You have three minutes to pack up your things, Then tell people on the way down that the Reckoning has come. This is your only chance."
Instantly people began to flee from their half-destroyed rooms, not even caring to grab their things. He began to walk, slowly, like wild cat, hunting its meal. He swung vertically, twirling it around his right shoulder before he swung hard, and the scythe cut into one wall, nearly breaking it apart. After a few seconds, he yanked the scythe free, and blood coated the blackened blade.
"I wonder, my little lamb... how many lives will be ours..."
The crimson dripped onto the ground, only for Ghost Tank to twirl the blade again, flinging droplets of blood up, down and across the hallway. His next swing would indeed cut the wall apart, and behind it was one man that had been cleaved through the chest, and next to him would be a woman, holding a small caliber gun and his scythe was cut almost through her upper body, with his scythe digging into her chest, the blade having cut through her shoulder, and now is stuck in her spinal column. He yanked hard, pulling her through the wall, causing what was left to crumble. He grabbed her by the throat, then with one hard turn of the hand, he snapped her neck, to make sure her misery didn't last too long.
He began to work floor by floor. Ninth floor being next, but unlike the tenth, ninth was full of people ready to defend themselves. Unfortunately, they were ill-prepared. He'd get ambushed right as he started to walk into the ninth floor hallway. He'd be greeted by a foot to the face, but before the person could realize who the fuck Ghost Tank was, he'd feel a knee straight into his gut, causing him to throw up. It also allowed Tank to decapitate him as he was hunched over. Two people rushed out after, and GT would feel two knees being sent into his chest, one from each person. This caused Ghost Tank to release the scythe as they began a full-on assault. These two men more than likely had been a part of a team of some kind, because they seemed to be very in tune with one another's movements.
A flurry of kicks and punches, with both men trading off while Tank did his best to fend them off, deflecting some of the punches, moving his head side to side to avoid some punches he couldn't deflect in time. He'd raise one leg to block kicks, to right leg to block the kicks from the one on GT's right side, left for the left. They'd get several glancing blows off, knuckles grazing the massive man's cheekbones. They'd effectively push Tank back to the stairwell, but this would be their fatal flaw. Having enough of the constant barrage, Tank would bring his left leg to look like he was about to kick their legs out from under them, but instead it was a feint they both fell for, and while they were in the air, he swung his right arm hard, punching the man on Ghost Tank's right side into the chest, which sent him into his friend, and because of the force and positioning of the stairwell, they'd hit the railing, and being unable to recover quick enough to realize it, they'd eventually fall the nine stories, bouncing back and forth between railings, until they landed with sickening thuds upon the ground level.
He rushed back into the hall, diving forward and grabbing his scythe on his way to roll through, getting onto his feet very quickly from the roll through. Unlike the two he just fought, most of the people on the ninth level were unable to put up much of a challenge, falling to either his brute strength, or to his scythe.
Death had just begun to claim his souls for this evening...
"Macbeth, I earned a shot at the Hart championship back when I lit Emerick's body aflame in April. When the belt was still around Gilmour's waist. Know how many title shots I am deserved? Let's count how many titles are in the main Ex-Dubbayew-Eff roster. Universal, Tag Team, Intercontinental of which I've already held, Hart, X-Treme. All of them, I deserve to go after. However, I've decided on one, yours. Now it's a matter of principle. You beat me. Time to repay the favor. Except, when I do win, you've got nothing. The Union will have, nothing.
April was the month that you peaked, wasn't it?
Yeah, it was.
As for your, and soon to be, my, title? Yeah, I'm keeping it safe. Though, Fuzen hasn't exactly been gentle. Good thing she is still so young, otherwise she'd have destroyed the belt. Children, y'know? Give them two minutes alone, and they start trying to break things or eat them.
You won't see the belt until our match, Macbeth. Not even in a single promo of mine. I want the last time you see it, to have been when it's given to me, handed over and it's made official that I am robbed you of ever touching it again before I took it for good.
You bring up my being irrelevant, but that's hilarious. You stopped being relevant when you lost the tag titles and at Warfare, I'll have kept you from ever being relevant ever again.
It is funny though, calling me Oswald Cobblepot. Though, because no one knows my true last name, aside from my wife, child, and that big woman a couple months back,no one will and forever will never know, my last name. So it's cute that now that you've got two pet names for me, one unoriginal and your teammate came up with, and the other is something a seven year old would come up with to tease a bigger kid. So basically, with these two nicknames, you've just equated yourself to the mindset of a seven year old.
How does that make you feel? Because I don't mind ending the life of a child, even as handicapped as he may be.
Also, thanks to Shade, you've taken to the whole pedophilia thing.
I kill children, I do not touch them sexually, nor lust after them. Do you forget what happened to the last person who falsely accused me of being a pedophile?
He now calls me 'Lord'.
Can't wait to see the next new, yet unsurprisingly unoriginal, comment or comments you come up with, Macbeth. Because you're just going to make my taking your title from you, so easy. The screams are continuing to grow, into a raucous cacophony of screams, that if I didn't love the sounds they made, would send me into the depths of madness.
I know you won't be able to deal with them, Macbeth. You're soft, and weak. You'll give in. Especially after I take the title away from you.
seven year old. ![[Image: xdagprt.gif]](https://i.imgur.com/xdagprt.gif)
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