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 Press Conference (Joint Shand/Fox role-play)

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Mjolnir

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Join date : 2010-10-09
Location : London, England

PostSubject: Press Conference (Joint Shand/Fox role-play)   Tue Feb 15, 2011 9:54 am

The scene fades up on the now familiar sight of the large ballroom at the swanky London hotel from which the CXA have been conducting its series of press conferences. Ornate plaster ceilings disappear way above our heads, and large cut glass chandeliers hang from gilded chains. Thick carpet is underfoot and rich woods panel the walls. It’s an expensive room.

At one end sits a raised stage which is bedecked in the red and black logos of the CXA. Huge hangings on either side repeat these logos, as do the panel boards at the back of the set. A long black desk stretches across the stage, and in the middle there stands a lectern already covered in assorted microphones from around the world.

In front of the stage, at floor level, a hundred cameramen and sound recordists scramble for the best positions from which to shoot video and still pictures, or to record sound. Amongst them also is the same number of reporters all at the moment on mobile phones and Blackberries, or else shooting pre-tapes and intro pieces into the assembled cameras. There is a buzz of noise in the room as the reporters chat amongst themselves. None of them know who they are about to be presented with, but all are here in expectation of the next major announcement from the CXA about its spectacular reunion show. It’s a scene we have seen before.

What we haven’t seen before though are the items now being placed across the front of the desks. Black shirted security people walk on carrying a number of aluminium briefcases. They open these cases, and what they extract draws gasps from the assembled paparazzi.

First to emerge, one on each side, are the CWA Tag Team Championship belts; Huge oblongs of gold, ornate in decoration, with the logo of the legendary company embossed across the front. These are placed at the outside ends of the desks. Next to emerge, again in a pair, are the TXA Tag Team Championship belts. Larger even than their CWA predecessors, and just as ornate, these are also placed on the desks, next to the CWA belts.

Now the reporters are interested. Presumably it’s a group of guys – possibly some multi-man match – and some of these guys are former tag champions. Nice.

However, the belts don’t stop there. The security people move across, and next to emerge on the left of the desk is the huge oval of the CWA Championship.

Wow, a former CWA Champion here today. Now the excitement level is increasing.

Then on the right-hand-side of the desk, an identical CWA Championship is removed from another case, and put in its place amongst the display.

Two former CWA Champions?? Together with former CWA Tag Team Champions, and former TXA Tag Team Champions? Wow, its going to be a long press conference with this many people here!

And now finally, the security detail reaches the middle of the stage, almost next to the podium. And as one, they remove a final set of belts – two massive gold circles embossed with the words “TXA World Heavyweight Champion”.

Frantically, the reporters are wracking their brains and checking Wikipedia entries to determine who might be on this panel. However, they don’t get much of a chance for detailed consideration before music suddenly swells from the sound system and onto the stage steps the usually grinning figure of Robinson Renard. Dressed in a grey suit and a sharp shirt, he looks the part, and his mop of grey hair is as coiffured as ever, but there is something slightly different about his mannerisms today. He doesn’t’ seem quite as cock-sure as he normally is. You get the impression he is possibly more nervous about this press conference than he has been about previous ones.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for that wonderful welcome, and on behalf of everyone at the CXA, I would like to take this opportunity to welcome YOU to the latest in our range of blockbuster press conferences to inform you about our spectacular and incredible CXA reunion show. As those of you who have been with us before – and hey, if you haven’t been, I’d like to know why the hell not – we have already brought you some big names and some big announcements. In fact, at our last conference, it was the All American hero Homer Cyde powerbombing his unannounced challenger, the mouth of the South West, Joxide, straight through these desks.

But I can assure you, you ain’t seen nothing yet! It doesn’t get any bigger or better than our guest list here today.”

Robinson extends his arms to run a broad sweep of the title belts sitting in front of him.

“As you can see by this fine collection of trophies, Mon Amies, we are in the presence today of true champions. Men who have stood at the top of the mountain and made their names as legends in this business. But, my friends, what if I were to say to you that these title belts, all of them, belong to just TWO men. And what’s more, these tag belts were won when they were wrestling together as a team?”

Now the noise level in the crowd really ramps up. The list of guys who have won both the TXA and CWA tag belts, and won a world title in either organisation, is extremely slim.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome our guests at this time, both of them former CWA Tag Team Champions, former TXA Tag Team Champions, former CWA AND TXA World Heavyweight Champions (Robinson stops, as if he doesn’t quite want to say what’s coming next) Myron Novaar and the Reaper, David Shand”

Despite being jaded journalists, the crowd go nuts at this. Myron Fox, now redubbed Myron Novaar in honour of his claimed birthright, was hardly a rare interview given his love of the limelight, but given some of his recent promos there were a lot of questions still to be answered. However, David Shand rarely gave interviews, and had given none since his return in December, and having the two of them together on stage at the same time was something which none of them could remember happening before. It was like a 9 year old being given Easter, his birthday, and Christmas all on the same day.

Sure enough, onto the stage walk the pairing who once represented two thirds of the infamous Trinity of Midnight. Shand is dressed in pretty regular attire for him of a black suit and white shirt with an open collar. His hair is shorter than it has been for a while, and he sports a light overall beard. He looks relaxed and nods to the cameras as he takes his seat on the right hand side of the stage. Conspicuously, he doesn’t shake the hand offered by Robinson Renard. This isn’t surprisingly given Shand’s well-known distaste for the man, and perhaps explains my Renard isn’t as cocky as he has been in the past.

Now, not many men can upstage a 7 foot tall giant billionaire, but his friend and former tag partner might be one of them. As the reporters watch a figure cloaked in a long grey cowled cloak emerges from the back. Waking past the title belts he stand in front of the reporters and pulls back his cowl. We are faced with a guy in his early fifties, with a trimmed beard and hair tied back in a ponytail. It’s the figures grey eyes that grab you, though, sparkling with anticipation.

“Ladies and gentleman…I beg your attention for a few brief moments. I am Duncan and I stand before you as the Herald of the One True Prince. Prepare yourself to be greeted by the power of the Dragon of the Moon and the Phoenix of the Sun combined…The Hero reborn…ladies and gentleman hailing not only from Sheffield, as this fool in a suit will tell you, but from Alfhiem via Atlantis…I give to you Prince My-Ron Novaar!”

The herald bows and edges backwards to stand at the back of the room. As he does another figure comes from out of the back. Once again, The Cyberstar has dressed to impress. Novaar’s face is half-covered by his hair, but he also wears a blue band around his head. The Vampire’s clothing consists of gold-embroidered and red shirt with three-quarter sleeves and gold trim under a ankle-length black sleeveless coat. He has a blue and red striped silk scarf wrapped his neck, in the opening of his coat.

The coat is also trimmed with gold and seems to be lined with blue velvet with gold embroidery. The front is secured with buttoned clasps, and over the coat he wears an ornate blue belt with beaded wires and threads. Novaar also has a pair of wristguards that extend over the back of her hands with red stones set into the top. For the most part, the coat obscures his lower body, but we do see blue scaled tleggings and his boots look like that they were made of black or blackened plate metal with a low heel.

Novaar takes his seat. It’s noticable that he doesn’t look over to Shand and there’s a air of tension already in the room. With both mean seated, Renard goes to start proceedings. However, he doesn’t even get a word out before Shand stops him in his tracks.

“Renard, people haven’t come here to listen to your voice. And frankly if we have to tolerate it, we’d rather minimize the annoyance as much as possible. My friend and I can take it from here, so I believe it would be best for you to sit down and keep quiet.”

Renard is flustered and annoyed “Wait a second, I’m the host here a…..”

Shand has now actually turned to Robinson and the look on his face could melt the gold fillings in Renard’s teeth.

“We aren’t about to have a problem here, are we Robinson?”

Renard gets the message. He takes his seat.

On the other side of the table, Novaar can’t resist a grin. David did have a way of being persuasive. Shand turns to the reporters.

“Now, you ladies and gentlemen clearly have a lot of ground you are going to want to cover. I’d suggest you start with my learned friend to my right here – after all, if he’s in front of this many cameras and doesn’t get to talk about himself for five minutes, he’s liable to explode”

Again, Novaar smiles. The tension seems to have faded.

“As ever, David, I thank you. (Turning to face the crowd of reporters) I’m aware that you, the noble press may have questions. Please, fire away…”

(First reporter) “Mr…Novaar, isn’t it…”

“That is my name, my birthright. I would like to be address by that name from here on in.”

“My question is about the match you’ve challenged Rob Arnold to…I mean…a Crucifixion Match?”

“That is the match laid before Arnold. I am still awaiting Rob’s response to my challenge. I hear that he has…other, more menial concerns. While I can understand this I would still like to hear his thoughts on the challenge…”

(Second reporter) “Can you fill in some more details about the match itself?”

“It’s very simple. There will be a cross next to the ring big enough for a man to be strapped to. The winner will be the person that straps his opponent to that cross and hoists them above the ring. To do that you would have to beat your opponent to a state where he becomes incapable of stopping you. Simple but I think effective…”

(Third reporter) “C’mon…level with us. What was really in that chalice? I mean, blood, ale and herbs…”

“…was exactly what was in there. Do you call me a liar, sir?”

“Er, well, no…but…”

“Then believe me when I say that is what was in the chalice. I cannot tell you the exact recipe. My friend, Duncan, put me onto the right ingredients. Suffice to say it is an ancient recipe that is not given to everybody.”

(Fourth reporter, laughing) “So…what do we call you now…your highness?”

He laughs then turns to face Novaar. The latter’s mismatched eyes burn into the report who quickly shuts up.

“You will address me as The One True Prince. The Cyberstar. The Vampire. Prince My-Ron Novaar. You will understand what this means and you will not mock it.”

(Fifth reporter) “What sort of match are you expecting from Rob?”

“In truth, I do not know. When I was contacted to face Rob I watched some of his old matches, his old promos. I got into my mind set who Rob WAS. However, I do not know who Rob Arnold is. I did not think that Rob would hide away for this long. So you ask what sort of match I expect. I say I don’t know and won’t until I step into the ring.

“However, it simply does not matter anymore. I am The One True Prince. My plans are in motion and you will see the final piece at the Reunion Show. I can promise you that.”

Finally, another reporter is called upon, but he turns to Shand.

“David, if we can ask you now. You obviously know both My-Ron and Rob Arnold very well, and you had your problems with Arnold in the past. What advice would you give Fox in handling this match?”

Shand’s eyes tell you he thinks this question is probably beneath him bothering to answer, but even so he leans forward and considers the question for a second.

“Well, firstly I think you need to do your homework a little more thoroughly and not rely on Wikipedia entries. I’ve never had a problem with Rob Arnold. In the past, Arnold had some strange obsession with trying to prove himself against me – much as his fellow South Westerner is doing now as a matter of fact. However, I can assure you it wasn’t any sort of problem for me to deal with, but you might want to ask Rob how well coming after me worked out for his mental state. As for me offering My-ron any sort of advice for his match? Just take a look at the collection of title belts he has sitting in front of him. Does he look like someone who needs advice? My-ron and I are friends, and as friends we’ll discuss his match, but it’s a long time since he needed any sort advice from me”

The reporter considers this for a second.

“Ok, so can you tell us what you have discussed as friends?”

“Obviously not. Want to try again?”

“Ok, lets spin it on its head. If Rob Arnold came to you for advice about his match with Myron, what would you tell him?”

Shand lets out a sigh, as if becoming exasperated “Well, as My-ron and I are friends, and Arnold and I aren’t, I’d hardly be likely to offer Rob advice on how to go about beating my friend, now would I? However, for the sake of argument and to save you from appearing any more pitiful than you already do, I’ll humour you. I’d tell Rob what I’d tell anyone else; Don’t allow the fact that My-ron walks around dressed like Disney’s last wish fool you into thinking that when he steps through those ropes he is anything other than 100 per cent serious. I know first-hand what this man can do when he’s motivated, and he’s certainly that right now. In my opinion, Arnold was very good – if he wasn’t, he wouldn’t have been asked to be part of this show – but when the chips were down, he could never quite cut it. And that’s why he’s going to fail.”

Another reporter steps in

“What do you think about the stipulation for the match?”

Across the stage, My-Ron grins. After the rather frosty reception he gave the reporters before, this is a warmer response.

“From the man who invented the Stairway From Hell and the Trinity of Iron – this ought to be good”

Now its Shand’s turn to smile. He sits back in his seat and turns to Novaar.

“Well there you go, His Highness over there has said it all. I can’t really comment on someone wanting to put on a show, and Lord knows he does it well. But seriously I think Arnold is foolish to accept, not that it surprises me”

“That Arnold accepted?”

Shand grins

“No, that he’s a fool”

The crowd seems to appreciate a rare display of humour from Shand, and takes this as a cue to move the conversation to him. A reporter from Business Week is the first to ask a question, and predictably it’s not directly about his match.

“Mr Shand, I’m sure my colleagues more familiar with the wrestling business will get on to your own opponent in a second, but I think many of here would like some comment on what happened in the Autumn of last year, and your disappearance from public life. Can you shed some light on that for us?”

If there was a trace of a smile on David’s face, it’s gone now. His face is completely impassive, and his tone matter-of-fact.

“No, I won’t. I know you gentlemen must be curious as to my whereabouts during those months, but I’m afraid there are some things which I am not prepared to discuss at this time, and the period between August and December of last year happens to be one of them. All I will say is that I needed to take some time away to think about things. As you can now see, I’m back”

“There were rumours you travelled during that time, can you confirm that”

“It would be hard to get some time away had I stayed at home, wouldn’t it?”

Another reporter jumps in

“There were also rumours of health problems – you’re back possibly, saying that you had to have surgery?”

David’s eyes were cold

“Back surgery? Tell me something, when a person has surgery on their back, can they train, work out, lift weights?”

The reporter shakes his head

“No, not usually”

David stands up and removes his jacket, revealing a tailored shirt which fits his incredibly muscled physique perfectly.

“Do I look like I haven’t worked out since last August?”

The reporter decides he doesn’t need a follow-up question, and David sits back down.

A reporter from Pro-Wrestling Illustrated finally steers the questions back around to the CXA show when he asks David why he feels the need to return to pro-wrestling now.

“I’ve learnt that sometimes things just have a natural rhythm to them, and life brings along opportunities at just the right moment. It just so happens that the CXA’s backers – and let me address that rumour right now, I am not financially attached to the CXA - were putting this together at just the right time.”

“But is it true that when you were first approached you said no?”

“Rumours of a reunion show had been circulating for some time, and that stage nothing was finalised. I wasn’t prepared to commit while things were in such a liquid state. Once plans were finalised, I said I was more interested, and then the match fell into place”

Another reporter chimes in at this point

“David, can you confirm or deny the rumours that in the past you have had talks with Vince McMahon about going to the WWE, possibly being inducted in the Hall of Fame?”

Shand actually smiles at this and leans back in his chair.

“Vince McMahon and I have had a great many conversations over the years – far more than any of your dirt-sheet writers have suggested. And yes, we have talked on occasion about the Hall of Fame.”

“Why haven’t you said yes?”

A dark smile spreads across David’s face

“Whose saying I haven’t?”

The crowd take note of this, and then another reporter asks

“David, we’ve obviously had the announcement now that it will be you versus Chio Reto at the reunion show. To the best of our knowledge, this will be the first time you two have met one-on-one?”

“That’s correct. Although we worked for the same companies, we never had a singles match against each other”

“So why did you accept the match now?”

“Because he asked, in the main. But also because of that very reason – that we haven’t fought before. The idea of it interested me – and like I said, it came along at the right time”.

“Can we ask your opinion of Chio Reto – as a wrestler?”

David appears to consider this for a moment, the smile fading from his lips. He leans forward again in his seat, and rubs a hand over his chin, as if considering his words carefully. Finally, he lets out a small sigh.

“I suppose the word I would use is ‘disappointing’. I think that sums up Chris’ whole career, ‘disappointing’. Chio Reto was so much less than he really could have been. The thing is, there are certain people in this business who aren’t the most naturally talented wrestlers in the world, or the most genetically gifted, but they work hard, damn hard, and through force of will they manage to overachieve and accomplish their goals. You look at a guy like Mick Foley, or even John Cena – not a great wrestler but he works his ass off every night and now look where he is. Then you have the opposite end of the spectrum; a wrestler who does have natural gifts and talents – the right mind for the business, who naturally gets it – but who just doesn’t have that spark that allows him to push himself for that final 10% that would really make him great. Chio Reto is very firmly in that category. I believe Chris could really have been an exceptional talent in this business, but instead he decided to reign in mediocrity. Like I said before, we worked in the same companies, and yet we never had a match, and that ought to tell you all you really need to know because…” Shand indicates the title belts in front of him “these right here tell you the level I was operating at in these companies. Chris never made it that level – not because he didn’t have the potential to, but because he never realised that potential. Simply put, he didn’t work hard enough.”

“It sounds like you are saying he isn’t at your level? So why take the match, is it to give him a chance to prove himself?”

“I’m not saying Chio Reto isn’t at my level – I don’t need to because if we are being brutally honest, history has already done it for me. Look, don’t mistake my words. To misquote Shakespeare, I come here neither to bury Caesar, nor to praise him. I simply state the unarguable facts. Chio Reto is a good wrestler, but he isn’t a great wrestler. And no, I’m not doing this so that Chris can prove himself. Quite the contrary. Chris believes that if he takes this one match with me, this one main event, that it will somehow act as justification for his entire career. He believes that one climb to the top of the mountain will validate everything he has done before. Win, lose or draw, and believe me it will be lose, he thinks that he will find peace through this one match.

What Chris doesn’t realise is that he will find nothing of the sort. What this one peak will do is provide him with a view looking down at the foothills where the rest of his life has been. It will show him what might have been, and rather than give him peace about the rest of his career, it will instead throw into sharp and painful relief the full extent of his failure.”

Shand has an almost satisfied smile on his face as he finishes speaking, and across the table, even My-Ron casts him a quizzical look.

Another reporter chimes in.

“David, with all due respect, you claim that the only result will be for Chio Reto to lose, but – although you look in great condition – you haven’t been an active wrestler for a couple of years, and even then it was a part-time schedule for maybe a year before that. By contrast, reports indicate Reto has been preparing mentally and physically for this contest for two years.”

Shand nods his head

“Yes, absolutely, and it will be another two years of his life that he has wasted. You can manipulate viewpoints, and you can spin opinions, but you can’t fight facts, and the facts are simple. Chio Reto can’t win”

“David, the match will be a Trinity of Iron match. Some of us are very surprised Reto agreed to that match, but equally, given your record in these matches, we’re also surprised you have. Do you see this as some sort of rubber match?”

Shand’s look is hard

“I’m sorry, what do you mean ‘given your record’”

The reporter withers under Shand’s glare, but answers

“Well…I mean, you are one and one in Trinity of Iron matches”

“I don’t think I am”

“Well you beat Awesome, but…..welll…..Lone Wolf?”

“Typically, you journalists always see these things in such narrow terms. You believe the number of falls recorded on the scoreboard signals the winner of the match, and in doing so you completely misunderstand the purpose of the Trinity of Iron. It’s not a match about the scoreboard. It’s a match about how you walk in, and how you walk out. I’ve walked into two of these matches, and I’ve walked out the same way. Ask Steve Awesome if he was the same after he faced me in a Trinity of Iron. And then ask Lone Wolf – oh wait a minute, of course you can’t. You can’t because no-one has seen or heard of Derek Verona since I beat him into a coma during that match; since I robbed him of his mind, of his sanity, of his life. Since I left a man considered a legend in this industry a jibbering wreck. Now you tell me again whether I have a patchy record in Trinity of Iron matches.”

The journalist decides to keep quiet

“And you plan to do the same to Chio Reto?”

“He asked for the match, he lives or dies by the consequences. To quote that same Shakespeare play again – the evil that men do lives after them”

The next reporter turns back to Novaar.

“My-Ron…what are your thoughts on David’s match….and on his opponent.”

“I find myself agreeing with David that I cannot add much on a match that is not my own. However, as I know you have copy to make I shall indulge you. On the match, I cannot agree more with David. Look beyond the record. Look at the men. I faced Awesome and, while it took the Cyde’s help to beat me, I still see him as a top level opponent. With Verona I never faced him one on one. However, I was in a multiple wrestler match with him and I know just how tough an opponent he can be.”

“A match where Rob Arnold pinned you to win the match…”

“After we had battled our way through the rest of the field. After Arnold had hit a desperation move. That matters not. However, my point was that David has damaged more careers, win or lose, than anybody else. Do not forget that I was in the Trinity with this man. That I have held belts with him and faced him across a ring. I have even been thrown from the top of a cell by him. I would also face him again but I would do so with no great desire to. For I know what David Shand is capable of.

As for Chio Reto, I again agree. A very talented wrestler who has never made it to the top table. When he does his press conference, ask him to put his titles on the table. Ask him about the main events he’s been in. That will be your answer.”

The journalists now turn their attention back to Shand, who has been regarding My-ron’s comment with interest. One raises his hand and calls for Shand to pick him, which he does.

“David, there is another issue I think we’d all like to discuss if we can, and that’s the promos that have aired on the internet from the Forgotten Warrior. Promos very critical of you. And now the Forgotten Warrior has been revealed as your own younger brother, Matthew Shand – Fireball. Can we get your comments on that situation?”

On the stage, there is a visible tensing in My-Ron’s posture. The tension from the beginning of the show has returned. He knows this might not end well. On the other side of the table, David is staring a hole in the man who just asked the question. He hasn’t said a word. Novaar turns to his friend.

“David, I….”

My-Ron doesn’t get any further before David holds up a hand in his direction and speaks slowly into the microphone.

“I’m not taking questions on that topic”

Another journalist pipes up

“But David, you have to….”

Now Shand cuts him off, and his time his voice isn’t slow and soft. Its calm, but it drips with a thick menace

“I don’t intend to repeat myself.”

Seeing that this will get them nowhere, the journalists try a different tactic. They turn to Fox

“My-ron, if David won’t answer questions on this subject, perhaps we can get some comments from you?”

My-Ron doesn’t look sure

“I don’t think that would be a good idea”

“Matthew had plenty to say about ‘The Reaper’s lackeys’...You think he meant you? After all, you never exactly got along?”

My-Ron is clearly itching to make some sort of comment. Across the stage, Shand turns to him.

“Fox (the change in name is noticeable)…stay out of this.”

“David…this concerns me as well…it concerns The Trinity…”

“No. It doesn’t. This is between me and Matthew. It’s a family matter.”

Shand stops. Clearly, from his body language, he considers this a closed book. He starts to get up to leave.

“Hold on…after everything that’s happened along the road…I’m not family?”

Shand takes his seat once again.

“This is different. This has nothing to do with you.”

“I beg to differ. Matt made it something to do with me when he made those snide comments. You know they were directed, at least in part, at me.”

“I know no such thing. I repeat this has NOTHING to do with you”

Novaar gets to his feet but isn’t leaving. He takes a step towards David. Renard steps forward, obviously aware that this could get ugly rather quick. Novaar, however, pushes him to one side.

“How can you say that? How can you tell me that it has nothing to do with me? Look at me, David…I asked you a question!”

Shand gets to his feet, slowly, with more pause than the mercurial Novaar.

“Fox…”

“It’s Novaar…”

Shand doesn’t blink. He simply steps forward so that he is looking at Novaar. Where as the latter looks like a cat, waiting to pounce, Shand is a picture of restrained anger. However, even as we watch, the veins in the muscles of his neck are tensing, and colour is rising in his face.

“Fox, I’m WARNING you to keep that mouth of yours shut!”

Novaar looks a little shocked.

“You’re warning me? You’re telling me? Maybe Matt’s comments gave you the impression I really am your flunkey. I’m The One True Prince. I’m not going to told sit down like a good little boy and…”

Shand takes another step forward. The anger is clearly there now, a slight quiver to his body.

“I’m going to ask you one last time…as a friend and for the sake of that friendship…not to say anything.”

Fox also takes another step forward. They are now a stride apart.

“And I’m telling you that as a friend I can’t sit back. Damn it, David. Don’t you see what has happened here? Didn’t you listen to me? You’re sat there talking about how Chio isn’t main event while somebody much closer to home is doing the same thing.

Matthew has never managed to emerge from your shadow and I don’t think he ever will. That he even wants to. I called him The Great Deceiver and I stand by that. I have reclaimed my birthright. Have stepped out from behind the great David Shand and forged my own career. I am the fire in the dark. I am The Vampire. The Cyberstar. What has Matt achieved since he left the Trinity? What has he done?”

Novaar flings his arms wide.

“You just don’t see it. You put on your blinkers and you ignore it. Do you think that Matt is going to go away? He won’t. That’s going to be his downfall. Don’t let it be yours. Ignore this and The Great Deceiver will win…whatever happens!”

Shand takes another step forward. This prompts Novaar to do the same. The pair are now nose length apart, the smaller, lighter Novaar returning Shand’s stares down with equal power. Both men’s eyes burn with an inner fire that shows The Prince and The Reaper in their awful glory.

Suddenly, Shand moves to the side. Novaar tenses, ready for a blow. However, Shand grabs a mike instead. Hie eyes don’t leave Novaar as he speaks.

“All of you, get out. This press conference is over!”




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PostSubject: Re: Press Conference (Joint Shand/Fox role-play)   Fri Feb 18, 2011 4:14 pm

OOC: A bit late (for obvious reasons) but fantastic stuff.
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