[LK] HONESTY.

“I am nothing if not honest with myself.

Intimately aware of my own surroundings, my own flesh and my heart and my soul, that which beats within my chest and pulses blood through every one of my vital systems, I do so with the true notion of exactly what I am. I do not lie and claim to have been screwed when I have lost fairly, I do not break the rules even if the resultant circumstance would benefit me, I do not run from any challenge before me; rather, I charge it head on and deal with the blunt force trauma that the conclusive conflict will do unto me with all of the grace that my heart can muster.

This honesty, this drive, this true-to-selfness-this has carried me through many a fucking loss the past few months, ripped me through more than my fair share of pitfalls, yanked me up and held me above on the wings of providence when otherwise I should have descended from the heavens with all of the power and glory of a fallen angel. I am honest, Diantha, because it keeps me afloat. I am true, Havoc, because it allows me to succeed. I keep myself in the best fucking mindset, because doing so has kept me alive, kept my addled brain from making that last maneuver that would destroy me entirely.

If I ever lie to myself, about my circumstances, about what I am, I may as well die on the fucking spot, because my heart will never beat the same again.

Speaking of honest, of trueness, of self-worth, let’s talk about the two of you.

You’ve found yourselves the benefactors of a gift that Alyssa and I have so graciously gone to bat for. APEX is a land of opportunity, with so many missing out on it because they’ve gotten in at the right place, but at the wrong fucking time. We wanted to hoist the championships formerly held by some defunct promotion high and allow the world before us to come and take them if they so desired to try. We had no issue with you and Havoc being named number one contenders, the only logistical hurdle I saw was that we couldn’t really consider you and your puppet a tag team, but I won’t turn down a handicap match if some cunt begs for it enough.

You tried to paint a picture the same way Finn did-called me a coward, a loser, a fucking fool. You came into your conflict with me, the patron saint of this god damned company, the same way you entered the promotion itself-with a lot of sound and fury signifying not a god damned thing. You’re hot shit elsewhere, Diantha, but that briefcase only makes you important in one company, even if you threw me down from the heavens to wrap your fucking mits around it. You can spew your falsehoods and chant your war-songs to the heavens, but they won’t make this coming conflict any easier. They won’t protect you from the incredible violence coming your way from my hand, nor that from Alyssa’s, because you know the truth of the matter;

I am not what you say I am.

Granted, I know you’re delusional. Only a maniac would plot a spitting of black mist into the eyes of a woman I care so deeply for and not expect some form of violent and lasting retribution. Speaking honestly, the only reason that you and Havoc are still medically fit to be the challengers for these championships is because I couldn’t bare to leave Alyssa’s side while she was that damaged, but I promise you that every thought I had of breaking you down, piece by fucking piece, I’ve been holding onto until we get to King of the Mountain. You haven’t evaded death, even if you opted to gloat about it online shortly after you did what you did, you only delayed it. Both you and Chris signed a check that you’re going to have to pay out in flesh, but I promise, Diantha, the bigger share will come from you.

Manipulative cunt that you are, violence is the only way that you will learn.

I’m not lying to myself and saying that this’ll be an easy fight, no, but I know exactly what I’m willing to give to get my hands on you. I know exactly what place I need to sink to to pull you down with me, how many blows I need to put upon you with all of the wrath in each and every one of my bones to pay back what I feel was taken. I know you’re going to fight like hell, too, and I’m sure that Chris, if he’s still in there, can’t even make the conscious decision to not fight in the same way, so I know that this’ll be an uphill war. I know that you want more gold to display on your mantle, throw in your twitter bio and wear while you galavant around the fucking world, but these belts are more than just trophies to us, and especially to me. They mean opportunity, not just for us, but for the whole of this company. They act as an open door for each and every team on the fucking scene to come for, an invitation to step to the Power of Incredible Violence and test your mettle, a chance to sharpen your iron against two swords that, although freshly made, have a grave wish to taste as much blood as they possibly fucking can.

Do you understand that weight, Diantha? Do you get that crushing feeling, Havoc?

All of this shit is falling back on me, and despite the pressure, I fucking love it. I love the challenge, the thrill. Alyssa and I could have declared ourselves champions, but we opted not to, because these aren’t a goddamn pity prize, they’re prestigious fucking belts, and we want to EARN THEM. We want to show the fucking WORLD that we play by the right set of rules, that we do things the honorable way, that despite provocation after fucking provocation, we’ve not jumped you or put hands or mist upon your flesh, we’ve gone about this the RIGHT WAY. We want to do this legit, we want to do this seriously, and moreover, we want this to be something worth looking back upon not just FOR US, but for all of APEX FUCKING WRESTLING, the day that the tide changed and this shit opened up for each and every challenger.

You? You can’t do that. Even if you could, you’d choose not to, because the easy road has always been the best for you. Havoc had a goddamned army with him to ward off a challenger each and every time it went close, and even if he’s your puppet now, I know those thoughts still lurk. And Diantha, I saw your strategy when I watched the Ascension to the Heavens back, how you let everyone else fall into place before scaling that fucking ladder on your own, not a goddamn bead of sweat off your back as you found your moment and took it. Opportunistic leeches never change, but the opportunity you’ve opted to seek finds you face to face with the greatest excision you will have ever fucking FACED. You won’t find your shine on these championships, and even if you wish to, you’ll find yourselves picking teeth out of your shit for weeks when my size nine drives them CLEAN DOWN YOUR FUCKING THROAT.

Do you get it, Diantha?

Do you get me?

Because I won’t speak for Alyssa, but I can tell you clearly that this is a goddamned reckoning for each of your actions since you’ve come into this company. You see, you haven’t been honest. You’ve presented yourself like a warrior, facing off against two cowards who’ve brought things in since they couldn’t touch anything else, but you’re really a stupid cunt who’s playing dress-up like she’s far more fucking important. That dishonesty might benefit you and your image in the short turn, and it might drive fear into the hearts of the many others watching from afar, but I can see that shudder in your eyes, the shiver in your skin when we come face to face, toe to toe, each and every time we’re in the ring I can see that your constitution is just not up to snuff. You’ve tried time and time again to assert yourself as the top cunt in this fucking industry, but this path through the APEX Tag Team Championships won’t take you there, because this ain’t the real you.

I can say the same to Havoc, Nightmare Chaser and Warrior King and whatever the fuck else names have been thrown upon his docket year after fucking year, you’ve reduced yourself to a puppet, split in both forms between two hands no matter where you’ve gone. Diantha’s a better master than some of the others you find yourself bound to, but I know you, Chris, if you’re still in there in any shape or form. You’re not a man who should be bound to anyone, you’re one of the most proficient and lethal competitors in the world, you have an edge sharper than a damascus blade, and yet you’re letting yourself be dulled down by a woman who’s forged an alliance with you simply because she can’t get the fucking thing done by her lonesome. You’re not being honest, either-you’re being convenient, you’re being simple, and worst of all, you’re being used, and you’re fine with it.

Even if the two of you do the impossible and walk away with this gold, it won’t fucking save you.

I am being honest and true with you here, something you’ve refused to do, when I say that this match, surely, isn’t the end. I don’t know who walks out with a successful challenge, but I know that if somehow, some way, your tricks have kept me and Alyssa from the twenty pounds of gilded glory we’ve held, this won’t be the fucking end of it. We will keep coming, as we ALWAYS HAVE, and ALWAYS WILL. We will chase you to the ends of the fucking earth, plucking away bit by bit, until so little remains that it’s not capable of fighting. We won’t do this with pleasure, but with solemnity. Not for glory, but because we have to, because APEX needs us, because you represent a growing threat not just in this company, but this industry, and the only way to ward that shit off is to cut the head off the fucking snake.

The only cure for your specific cancerous, infectious drive is violence.

An incredible, painful, honest fucking amount of it.

At King of the Mountain, you’ll feel it firsthand.”