Blog: Pinkie Sanchez (5.23.16)
I was once a man. But my own faith in the BDK has made me a shadow. I should be on top in CHIKARA, but I've become unfocused. I'm not ashamed to say I let my strings get pulled in the pursuit of glory. But whose glory?
I followed my mission. My hands were my weapon. My faith was the ammunition. My shots were precise. It was war. It was survive or nothing. I'd have carried your injured body off the battlefield, Jakob. Would you do the same for me? Recent events make me think not. Looking back on the last few months, it is clear we were never in the trenches together. I was just cannon fodder. I'm learning a lesson through all this. I am every person with a dream. You will not build a wall to suppress the dream.
To see things clearly, I had to turn my gaze backward. I watched the Infinite Gauntlet. Every moment and every mistake. What a surprise I discovered, in hindsight. I found more fulfillment teaming for a few moments with others than the last year of teaming with Jakob and his BDK. Your path is clouded, Jakob. It has clouded my own path way too long.
Blog: Hallowicked (5.17.16)
Tomorrow Never Dies. December 14th 2014. This was the day I cast off the bonds of my slavery and turned to serve a true cause. It was the day Delirious pressed the Eye of Tyr against my head and whispered into my ear the very key to unlocking my shackles. I lived a lifetime in what was only experienced as a moment to the rest of the world. I saw visions that would shatter the minds of most beings like a piece of glass being dropped from the top of the world. Perhaps that was Delirious' intention, to make me into what he is, a raving lunatic. Regardless of what he wished, the images he showed me placed me on the path I walk this day.
I saw the stalwart broadsword. Implacable, unquestioning. I saw his brother the spear swung in a wild violent arc, spilling the lifeblood of our enemies. They were held together with a chain. Unbreakable. Inseparable. I saw the warhammer crushing to powder the walls that stood in our way. I saw the dagger, then already plunged into its target dripping with poison invisible to sight smell and taste alike. These things came to be. All Glory Nazmaldun.
I saw a great battle and in the midst of that battle I was covered in vermin. I cast them each aside as they slithered and writhed on my skin. Innumerable they were yet I emerged as the only survivor. This too came to be. All Glory Nazmaldun.
I saw his angel of death dragged away from the safety of the flames and into the darkness. I saw those flames reach out to scorch him a final time only to be dashed out underfoot. I saw brothers born of the same darkness he was ushered into. Brothers who fought to deny their true nature, at last cast back into the abyss from whence they came, arm in arm. Just as rot strips away the flesh and lays bare the bone, these thralls have been stripped of joy, love, and loyalty to others. In it's place is hate, spite, and reverie only in causing harm to others. Loyalty only to Nazmaldun and his cause. These visions came to pass as promised. All Glory Nazmaldun.
Yet there were more. Visions of three more before the tribulation can begin. These have not yet passed, but will come to be.
First, I saw The Wanderer. The painted man. He attempted to serve two masters and was ripped asunder for it.
Next I was shown The Worm. The one that should not be. He possessed a weapon of his own and my master beckoned for it.
Last I saw the betrayer. His blood was colder than the driven snow and he made corpses of his friends and allies of their foes.
These will form his eight pillars of woe, the eight points of darkness that signal Nazmaldun's ascension to total dominance. Once assembled there will be no way to cauterize The Rot from consuming every corner of the globe.
The last vision shown is one that will forever haunt me. It is of what will become if Nazmaldun is not victorious in his war. It is a vision I will never speak of. It does not matter who or what is put in our path, every drop of blood in my body will be spilled to make sure it does not come true. If all the blood of The Eight must be spilled, so be it. All Glory Nazmaldun.
Blog: Juan Francisco de Coronado (5.12.16)
My name is Juan Francisco de Coronado. In Ecuador, we have a very popular phrase that says "nice guys finish last." In my time here at CHIKARA, this has never been more true! I live by this motto and because of it, it has propelled my career to legendary status. Too many people in the United Stations get caught up "doing the right thing" and "being a fair competitor," but it's those very same United Staters that fall victim to defeat. I am living proof that if you want to win and be successful, you will do anything and EVERYTHING in your power to do so.
"Mr. Touchdown" Mark Angelosetti has proved that he too will do what it takes to win. He will stop at nothing, even if he has to use a loaded elbow pad, rely on outside interference, or even employ a steel chair! I know the kind of man Mark Angelosetti is, and I know his ruthlessness disappoints some of you. No one is probably more disappointed than one Dasher Hatfield. You'll do well to remember: disappointed and surprised are two different things.
Mark, you are neither ally nor friend. As Ecuador's national treasure, I have no shortage of friends anyway. I don't need your feeble-minded acceptance. This past weekend however, you've made the mistake of thinking you can run amok in my playground. CHIKARA is my domain, and you are like a pathetic stray dog that needs to be put down. You cost me my chance at the Campeonatos de Parejas as I single-handedly had N_R_G beat! You framed me and that incompetent official played right into your little trick. Fortunately, I am nothing if not a brilliant strategenarian. Even if Prakash Sabar failed in our tag team match with N_R_G, I knew opportunity awaited in the Infinite Gauntlet. The odds were in my favor, entering in the most coveted spot, #33, the very final entrant. And again, the mangy mutt of CHIKARA rears his flea-bitten face.
If you think you are ready to play chess with the master, Mr. Touchdown, I will humor you. But the board will be of my design. On June 11th in Philadelphia of the United Stations, you will face me, one final time, in a No Disqualification match at "Tightrope"! Yes, anything goes, open playing field, all the tricks are legal because the rulebook is out on this one! Mark you are a very powerful, very skillful competitor, but you are as we say in Ecuador, "dumb as a box of rocks." You want so desperately to convince the world - and your own family - that you are not what we all know you to be.
On June 11th, there will be no rules. Nothing is off limits. We both know your strength and skill will never be enough to beat me. Especially in a match of this type. Show your true colors, dog. And prepare to scurry off, licking your wounds, when the Ecuadorian Aristocrat is done with you.