Post by Dragon on Nov 13, 2016 22:59:29 GMT -5
The shot opens up to a rather dark screen, with white noise buzzing all around the screen as muffled audio plays through. Slowly, a blue mask starts to fade in on the screen until it takes up the entirety of said screen. Focusing on the mask, the audio suddenly becomes clear as a voice plays through.
"Test......testing......1,2,3.......hopefully this works....."
Clearing their throat, the mic is tapped a few times, assuring that it is on and working correctly.
"Those of you who don't know already who I am........I'm "The Dragon" Hanzo Kirigaya, and on this day, there is a story that I would like to share with all of you listening to this.......and that is the story of how I acquired this mask......my Dragon Mask as I would to call it."
The mask on screen quickly fades out and a close up map of Japan pops up, with a red arrow pointing directly at a spot on the coast of the country.
"For those who haven't had the chance to read my biography on the company's roster page, I grew up in Ichihara. Right there along the coast. It was a nice community, the city was always bustling, the food vendors were always selling something great, always made by themselves. For some it was hard to make ends meet, but I was lucky enough to be living in the middle class with my parents and my younger brother, Nakazo."
A beige colored photo lightly floats down onto the screen, covering the map. In it sit two boys with their arms around each other, making peace signs at the camera.
"As you can see here, this is a rather old photo of my brother and I before our teen years. The teachers at school always remarked to our parents that we always seemed inseparable no matter what we were doing. Whether it was doing classwork or walking back home from school, we always stayed by each other's side, watching over the other in case harm came their way."
Another picture is slid on top of the other, this one showing a rather battered and bruised individual staring across the way at something outside the picture. Blood is on the individual's lip, and bruises cover the entirety of their face. Shocked faces of other students fill the background as the camera refocuses on the picture.
"This..........this right here is what altered my course of destiny. Although it's been cut out of the picture, there was an altercation I got into another student, which for the life of me, I don't remember, but my brother probably remembers it considering he was the one who snapped this picture. For all I know, it was probably something stupid just like most fights where you punch and kick someone over something dumb that in the end doesn't really matter. All you know afterwards is that you either whooped the other person's ass, or they whooped yours. Yet, the end result of this brawl ended very differently. A teacher ended up walking in on the fight and we were both sent to the principle's office.......obviously, and upon seeing our conditions, we were both expelled on the spot and this was weeks before graduation as well, which made it even tougher to swallow. I wanted to punch that other kid so hard upon hearing those words and then just run out of there, but I restrained myself instead just walked out of the room silent as can be. I ignored just about everyone that day, even my brother. I fled from home in the middle of the night and despite how cold it was, I managed to sustain myself until morning. I never thought about going back home at all, even if I missed Nakazo, I didn't dare return home because I feared of the possible punishments I could face from my parents and I wasn't going to let myself give in like that just so I could breathe in the comforting air. There was no point in returning."
The picture is flipped over, revealing a warehouse with the sides of it chipped from the old dried paint. A group of five people are posing in the bottom right corner of the picture, each with their own unique pose as the camera zooms in for a closer look.
"In this photo here, are the first few people I met during my time in Ichihara's fight club scene. The big guy there on left, that's Zayasu. He was always the main promoter for the club since he had this way of attracting spectators to the events held in the warehouse. He always somehow managed to bring in at least 100 spectators, which is damn impressive for an event that just has people beating the crap out one another until the other person gives in or gets knocked out."
The camera focuses on the person next to Zayasu.
"The skinny guy here, that's Katsumoto, or Kat as most people would call him. I often roomed with him at his apartment, which was pretty cozy despite the space being a bit of a tight fit. He was sort of the guy who would take bets and then pay out the winners depending on who won. He was pretty chill as he also ran a food cart next to his betting stand and everything was pretty cheap despite the quality of the food he was serving. Most even recommended that he open a restaurant, but he always declined each time because he always preferred serving in small places rather than try to expand and make more profit. I respected him for his humility because he was definitely the "friends first" kind of guy."
The camera slides over to where a slightly taller man is standing in the middle of the group.
"That guy right there, with the short hair, that was me before the incident. As mentioned before, I fled from home and for about the next year I was often relying on alms from passerby in order to get at least one meal. It wasn't until about the end of........I wanna say August of 2013 that I got invited to do the fight club fling. The first thing people always noticed about me at the fights was my hair. The way I styled it was that I kept it mostly short, but I always had these spikes on the front center part of it. Some of the guys said it was a symbol of coolness, others said it was just looked nice. I took either compliment, but these days I don't even bother re-spiking my hair because of what happened. It just wouldn't give off the same vibe."
The camera refocuses onto what is the only woman in the photo, her hands on Hanzo's shoulders with a coy smile on her face.
"Ah yes.......the woman pictured here, was everyone's best friend..........not in that kind of way, but you know what I mean. This is Erika, a Japanese-American who was born in Japan to an American mother and Japanese father and she often served as one of the nurses at the events. Tending to those post match if they had an injury or required stitches. I remember interacting with her after the first time I actually got hurt pretty bad during a fight I was scheduled in and also needing some medical attention as well. I don't why this happened, but the dude must have not gotten the rule book or was just trying to win his cash and go but the dude pulled a knife on me and ended up cutting me across the nose. Afterwards he slammed my wrist between his elbow and knee, but it happened so fast that I didn't even realize that it had been fractured. They threw the guy out once I got some distance away from him and I immediately ran to Erika's nursing tent. It was a normal day for her with about two guys laying on cots with ice packs against their ribs and then there was always at least one guy being tended with stitches. She was actually shocked to see me appear because I hadn't been in there before, but there I was. Blood running down the middle of my face, my left wrist was pretty much rendered useless for the time being. I almost laughed at the situation because she sat me down and she was running wildly as I sat there all calm with blood pretty much covering the front of my shirt and I'm just watching her running around for the supplies she needed to treat me with. Most of the blood was cleaned up, but she stitched me up as best she could and did her best impression of a cast to keep my wrist in place. I won't lie, it hurt like a bitch, but when you've been fighting in the streets for well over two years, you get accustomed to the pain. There is more to this story, but I'll save that for later."
The camera pans over to the last person who looks rather smug as a cigarette dangles out of their mouth, their hands tucked away into their pockets.
"Finally, the last guy. This man is Akira Miyazaki, one of the most notorious street brawlers. He always had some way of cheating to win whether it was by attacking his opponent hours prior to the event so he had an advantage, or by paying them off to forfeit the match by no showing. He started out pretty nice, but once he learned the ways of cheating, he never changed back. He became so dark and sinister that he only kept to himself and his inner circle of friends. The only other person he talked to was Erika, but that's because everyone knew he had a thing for her, but he slowly started to distance himself from her once he started to see that she wasn't reciprocating his feelings for her. I couldn't blame her. Once it's known that you're nothing but a low lying thug, who's gonna want you? No one, and after awhile Akira got promptly kicked out with his small gang. It was the right thing to do, but eventually we learned that they had fallen into the clutches of being criminals: mugging people and sometimes even murder in cold blood. I stopped his group one night, but he managed to get away, but thankfully his posse has been brought to justice."
Ever so carefully, another picture is placed down on top of the group photo. This one showing two people, one dressed in a doctor's outfit, then other is sat up in bed staring down at the blankets on top of him as stitches are lined across the bridge of their nose and their wrist is in a cast. The color is noticeably different as it seems more recent than old.
"I don't know who took this one, but I remember Nakazo finding this in office upon one of his lunch break returns. Remember how I was talking about being bandaged up by Erika? Well she recommended that I actually go to the hospital for my injuries since they were more severe than she thought. I was a bit shocked by the idea, but I honestly couldn't say no to her. So the next morning, I uncomfortably walked down to the hospital and the moment I set foot in the lobby, it went quiet. It was pretty obvious that they could tell how banged up I was so they brought me into the E.R. and changed me out of my dirt crusted, blood stained clothes into one of those hospital gowns. I felt ridiculous wearing it, but I had to follow orders. I didn't hear them say at first as to who was coming to check on me, but it wasn't until the guy was standing next to me, looking down at me with cold eyes like I had done something wrong. The moment Nakazo said his name, I felt so many emotions rush through me. Joy, grief, despair, the list goes on for ages. It wasn't exactly the best reunion to have where your younger brother finds you in hospital and HE's one of the doctors working there. We rarely spoke to each other the first few days I was there recovering, but towards the end of the week is when we finally started to open up to each other. He often came to talk to me during his breaks, covering what our parents had done in the years I was gone. They searched for me for almost a whole month before giving up on their search and they just assumed I had fled to another province or even to America as a stowaway. I really didn't have much to share with Nakazo except for the fights I had been in, the friends I had made, and the news about Akira and his goons. As mentioned before with Akira, about a couple weeks after I took out his crew, my brother and I traveled overseas to California and have now settled in Agoura Hills. Occasionally I call up Kat or Zayasu from time to time to see how the fight club's going, but other than that I've barely had contact with anyone else from Ichihara. These days, it's just the notifications of when the next wrestling show or what's happening in the news."
The shot the picture slowly fades back to the still image of Hanzo's mask.
"Oh that's right, nearly forgot about this. I've pretty much already told the gory parts of what happened to my face, but during one talk I had with my brother, he asked me if there was anything I specifically wanted. I didn't fully look towards him, and I was rather quiet during this day, but I mumbled the word 'mask' to him. He asked again and I straight up told him I wanted a mask. He seemed rather perplexed by my request, but when I pointed toward the scar on my face, he silently nodded and walked off to fetch one. I wasn't expecting anything too fancy, but when he brought me a luchador mask, I was quite surprised. Nakazo told me this was the only he could find that covered most of the scar, and I complied with it. Ever since that day, I've always been wearing a luchador mask to hide that hideous mark. I only fought a few more times in the fight club after acquiring it, but I felt too much grief in fighting and soon I joined Zayasu in promoting the club. Then, as mentioned before, I eventually departed for America with Nakazo, and here we are: traveling on the road with me performing in the squared circle."
The image fades back out and in its place, the word FIN takes its place in big, bold letters.
"Well, that's my story for you folks at home. I appreciate the time you folks have taken to hear my story today. From this point on, I can only look to perform my best in that ring. Until then, I'll talk to you all later."
This time the screen fully fades to black as the mic is switched off.
"Test......testing......1,2,3.......hopefully this works....."
Clearing their throat, the mic is tapped a few times, assuring that it is on and working correctly.
"Those of you who don't know already who I am........I'm "The Dragon" Hanzo Kirigaya, and on this day, there is a story that I would like to share with all of you listening to this.......and that is the story of how I acquired this mask......my Dragon Mask as I would to call it."
The mask on screen quickly fades out and a close up map of Japan pops up, with a red arrow pointing directly at a spot on the coast of the country.
"For those who haven't had the chance to read my biography on the company's roster page, I grew up in Ichihara. Right there along the coast. It was a nice community, the city was always bustling, the food vendors were always selling something great, always made by themselves. For some it was hard to make ends meet, but I was lucky enough to be living in the middle class with my parents and my younger brother, Nakazo."
A beige colored photo lightly floats down onto the screen, covering the map. In it sit two boys with their arms around each other, making peace signs at the camera.
"As you can see here, this is a rather old photo of my brother and I before our teen years. The teachers at school always remarked to our parents that we always seemed inseparable no matter what we were doing. Whether it was doing classwork or walking back home from school, we always stayed by each other's side, watching over the other in case harm came their way."
Another picture is slid on top of the other, this one showing a rather battered and bruised individual staring across the way at something outside the picture. Blood is on the individual's lip, and bruises cover the entirety of their face. Shocked faces of other students fill the background as the camera refocuses on the picture.
"This..........this right here is what altered my course of destiny. Although it's been cut out of the picture, there was an altercation I got into another student, which for the life of me, I don't remember, but my brother probably remembers it considering he was the one who snapped this picture. For all I know, it was probably something stupid just like most fights where you punch and kick someone over something dumb that in the end doesn't really matter. All you know afterwards is that you either whooped the other person's ass, or they whooped yours. Yet, the end result of this brawl ended very differently. A teacher ended up walking in on the fight and we were both sent to the principle's office.......obviously, and upon seeing our conditions, we were both expelled on the spot and this was weeks before graduation as well, which made it even tougher to swallow. I wanted to punch that other kid so hard upon hearing those words and then just run out of there, but I restrained myself instead just walked out of the room silent as can be. I ignored just about everyone that day, even my brother. I fled from home in the middle of the night and despite how cold it was, I managed to sustain myself until morning. I never thought about going back home at all, even if I missed Nakazo, I didn't dare return home because I feared of the possible punishments I could face from my parents and I wasn't going to let myself give in like that just so I could breathe in the comforting air. There was no point in returning."
The picture is flipped over, revealing a warehouse with the sides of it chipped from the old dried paint. A group of five people are posing in the bottom right corner of the picture, each with their own unique pose as the camera zooms in for a closer look.
"In this photo here, are the first few people I met during my time in Ichihara's fight club scene. The big guy there on left, that's Zayasu. He was always the main promoter for the club since he had this way of attracting spectators to the events held in the warehouse. He always somehow managed to bring in at least 100 spectators, which is damn impressive for an event that just has people beating the crap out one another until the other person gives in or gets knocked out."
The camera focuses on the person next to Zayasu.
"The skinny guy here, that's Katsumoto, or Kat as most people would call him. I often roomed with him at his apartment, which was pretty cozy despite the space being a bit of a tight fit. He was sort of the guy who would take bets and then pay out the winners depending on who won. He was pretty chill as he also ran a food cart next to his betting stand and everything was pretty cheap despite the quality of the food he was serving. Most even recommended that he open a restaurant, but he always declined each time because he always preferred serving in small places rather than try to expand and make more profit. I respected him for his humility because he was definitely the "friends first" kind of guy."
The camera slides over to where a slightly taller man is standing in the middle of the group.
"That guy right there, with the short hair, that was me before the incident. As mentioned before, I fled from home and for about the next year I was often relying on alms from passerby in order to get at least one meal. It wasn't until about the end of........I wanna say August of 2013 that I got invited to do the fight club fling. The first thing people always noticed about me at the fights was my hair. The way I styled it was that I kept it mostly short, but I always had these spikes on the front center part of it. Some of the guys said it was a symbol of coolness, others said it was just looked nice. I took either compliment, but these days I don't even bother re-spiking my hair because of what happened. It just wouldn't give off the same vibe."
The camera refocuses onto what is the only woman in the photo, her hands on Hanzo's shoulders with a coy smile on her face.
"Ah yes.......the woman pictured here, was everyone's best friend..........not in that kind of way, but you know what I mean. This is Erika, a Japanese-American who was born in Japan to an American mother and Japanese father and she often served as one of the nurses at the events. Tending to those post match if they had an injury or required stitches. I remember interacting with her after the first time I actually got hurt pretty bad during a fight I was scheduled in and also needing some medical attention as well. I don't why this happened, but the dude must have not gotten the rule book or was just trying to win his cash and go but the dude pulled a knife on me and ended up cutting me across the nose. Afterwards he slammed my wrist between his elbow and knee, but it happened so fast that I didn't even realize that it had been fractured. They threw the guy out once I got some distance away from him and I immediately ran to Erika's nursing tent. It was a normal day for her with about two guys laying on cots with ice packs against their ribs and then there was always at least one guy being tended with stitches. She was actually shocked to see me appear because I hadn't been in there before, but there I was. Blood running down the middle of my face, my left wrist was pretty much rendered useless for the time being. I almost laughed at the situation because she sat me down and she was running wildly as I sat there all calm with blood pretty much covering the front of my shirt and I'm just watching her running around for the supplies she needed to treat me with. Most of the blood was cleaned up, but she stitched me up as best she could and did her best impression of a cast to keep my wrist in place. I won't lie, it hurt like a bitch, but when you've been fighting in the streets for well over two years, you get accustomed to the pain. There is more to this story, but I'll save that for later."
The camera pans over to the last person who looks rather smug as a cigarette dangles out of their mouth, their hands tucked away into their pockets.
"Finally, the last guy. This man is Akira Miyazaki, one of the most notorious street brawlers. He always had some way of cheating to win whether it was by attacking his opponent hours prior to the event so he had an advantage, or by paying them off to forfeit the match by no showing. He started out pretty nice, but once he learned the ways of cheating, he never changed back. He became so dark and sinister that he only kept to himself and his inner circle of friends. The only other person he talked to was Erika, but that's because everyone knew he had a thing for her, but he slowly started to distance himself from her once he started to see that she wasn't reciprocating his feelings for her. I couldn't blame her. Once it's known that you're nothing but a low lying thug, who's gonna want you? No one, and after awhile Akira got promptly kicked out with his small gang. It was the right thing to do, but eventually we learned that they had fallen into the clutches of being criminals: mugging people and sometimes even murder in cold blood. I stopped his group one night, but he managed to get away, but thankfully his posse has been brought to justice."
Ever so carefully, another picture is placed down on top of the group photo. This one showing two people, one dressed in a doctor's outfit, then other is sat up in bed staring down at the blankets on top of him as stitches are lined across the bridge of their nose and their wrist is in a cast. The color is noticeably different as it seems more recent than old.
"I don't know who took this one, but I remember Nakazo finding this in office upon one of his lunch break returns. Remember how I was talking about being bandaged up by Erika? Well she recommended that I actually go to the hospital for my injuries since they were more severe than she thought. I was a bit shocked by the idea, but I honestly couldn't say no to her. So the next morning, I uncomfortably walked down to the hospital and the moment I set foot in the lobby, it went quiet. It was pretty obvious that they could tell how banged up I was so they brought me into the E.R. and changed me out of my dirt crusted, blood stained clothes into one of those hospital gowns. I felt ridiculous wearing it, but I had to follow orders. I didn't hear them say at first as to who was coming to check on me, but it wasn't until the guy was standing next to me, looking down at me with cold eyes like I had done something wrong. The moment Nakazo said his name, I felt so many emotions rush through me. Joy, grief, despair, the list goes on for ages. It wasn't exactly the best reunion to have where your younger brother finds you in hospital and HE's one of the doctors working there. We rarely spoke to each other the first few days I was there recovering, but towards the end of the week is when we finally started to open up to each other. He often came to talk to me during his breaks, covering what our parents had done in the years I was gone. They searched for me for almost a whole month before giving up on their search and they just assumed I had fled to another province or even to America as a stowaway. I really didn't have much to share with Nakazo except for the fights I had been in, the friends I had made, and the news about Akira and his goons. As mentioned before with Akira, about a couple weeks after I took out his crew, my brother and I traveled overseas to California and have now settled in Agoura Hills. Occasionally I call up Kat or Zayasu from time to time to see how the fight club's going, but other than that I've barely had contact with anyone else from Ichihara. These days, it's just the notifications of when the next wrestling show or what's happening in the news."
The shot the picture slowly fades back to the still image of Hanzo's mask.
"Oh that's right, nearly forgot about this. I've pretty much already told the gory parts of what happened to my face, but during one talk I had with my brother, he asked me if there was anything I specifically wanted. I didn't fully look towards him, and I was rather quiet during this day, but I mumbled the word 'mask' to him. He asked again and I straight up told him I wanted a mask. He seemed rather perplexed by my request, but when I pointed toward the scar on my face, he silently nodded and walked off to fetch one. I wasn't expecting anything too fancy, but when he brought me a luchador mask, I was quite surprised. Nakazo told me this was the only he could find that covered most of the scar, and I complied with it. Ever since that day, I've always been wearing a luchador mask to hide that hideous mark. I only fought a few more times in the fight club after acquiring it, but I felt too much grief in fighting and soon I joined Zayasu in promoting the club. Then, as mentioned before, I eventually departed for America with Nakazo, and here we are: traveling on the road with me performing in the squared circle."
The image fades back out and in its place, the word FIN takes its place in big, bold letters.
"Well, that's my story for you folks at home. I appreciate the time you folks have taken to hear my story today. From this point on, I can only look to perform my best in that ring. Until then, I'll talk to you all later."
This time the screen fully fades to black as the mic is switched off.