OOC: I blame Arville for this taking so long, and I don't know why.



How saddening.

How, worrisome.

This is the world around us, the followers of new "Revolution" that promises to take the entirety of the XWF by storm, in essence starting with Arville La'Donis and myself. So independent and self sufficient...

...That they need a mysterious benefactor, sponsors, and a trust fund baby to get them anywhere. The group that has one man who manages to win a match when it matters, and unfortunately he's playing third fiddle to the rich boy and the man who manage to lose a match after he got a convert from his own team in the War Games match.

Cam.

You don't have to believe in what I do, but you can't be so blind as to see that right now, your shot at the X-Treme title was a blessing, or you would have to lay down for your 'friend' LJ. Just like Turner, who supposedly runs the whole thing.

I see your pride, you wouldn't do that.

So why stay with them?

Is it because, that shining under that tough exterior, you're really just a follower. Something you've in essence condemned Arville and I for being? A follower to a man, whereas we follow God, as taught by his prophet?

Are you a prophet, is that what you're trying to say? Is this whole, Revolution, just a way to get yourself instilled in power to force your beliefs down our throats as you think we do to you?

Meek. Pathetic, a follower to one no greater than him. Relying on the actions of others, the successes of others to get to a semblance of recognition.

That, is what I see in this so called revolution.

Not your money.

Not your ideals.

Not your talent.

You see, this entire operation is hanging on the man not in this match's shoulders. Troy Turner, who you should be ashamed to be a subordinate to. Your very own partner, LJ Havok, needed him to get a win that he didn't even achieve. He turned on his teammates the cowardly snake in the grass he is, which is what they'll do to you.

We, can save you.

But to be saved, you must want it.

You're content to stay the third wheel to two sinners, and I can't help that.

We can't help that.

You don't follow God, is that right?

Allow Arville and I, to put the fear of God into you tonight.

Allow that, Lang.

You won't stop us.

But, we can save you, if you vow to save yourself.

Allow me to introduce the first two to be saved by The Church in its XWF run; Cam Lang and LJ Havok.

Hanging up the phone after his call to Arville, Ara-Om makes his way into the dank, dark parking garage he had kept his car in while he preached to the students. Down the ramp he walked, the footsteps of another echoing opposite his own rhythm. It perplexed him, terrified him really. On the beats in which he did take a step, an open hand, slapping the concrete wall slowly caused his skin to crawl right off his body.

Frantic, he hurries down the ramp, and closer to the source of a dripping noise of the water damaged roof still feeding water to the ground. Surprising, as it hadn't rained in days. The water logged puddle sloshed as Ara-Om kicked his foot through in a jog to his car, still closely followed by the calm, tapping footsteps that forced him to increase speed in the first place.

No matter how fast he ran it seemed, he couldn't escape the footsteps trailing him. Conventional logic would dictate that since this is a parking garage, it was likely just echo, but this is Ara-Om Jessik we're talking about here. Those born into religion aren't the most logical.

"Hey!"

Oh, shut the fuck up, Woody. This isn't even your story.

Anyway, as the footsteps came closer and closer, Ara-Om went into a panic. Falling forward, he quickly flipped over onto his back, coming face to face with the stalker...

...That satanist kid from the class.

"Oh sweet flibbity floodah, it really is Satan! Arville was wrong! Please, don't hurt me!"

"Dude, what the fuck?" The kid asked, legitimately confused as to why someone would call him Satan in the middle of a parking garage. I mean, that is a valid reason to be confused.

Still terrified however, Ara-Om scooted back on his hands like a typical horror movie victim, instead of getting up and running away. Hurriedly, he fumbles around with his hands and produces the Book of Mormon that he was holding onto the whole time.

Placing it in front of him, he let out a heroic yell.

"Oh shit!" He exclaimed and ran off the opposite direction, from the rapidly approaching rent a cops employed by the parking garage people. Both cops take off as well, running down the aisle in front of where the whole incident took place, as Ara-Om got up to his feet.

"By the power of Mormon, I did it! I vanquished Satan!"

[i]Yeah, you keep thinking that, you fucking ]