Post by crysisharvey on Jun 27, 2012 19:44:36 GMT -6
[ The scene opens up over a boardwalk somewhere in D.C. The sky is grey, flowing with loads of fluffy mono-toned clouds. There is railing lining the far side of the shot and very choppy deep blue water beyond the railing. On the inside to the railing there is a row of benches with a few single people seated along down and out of the frame in random benches. ]
[ The wind in the area begins to pick up more as a slight whistling is heard on the audio of the camera. A newspaper floats across the screen from right to left. A pair of female joggers enters the left side of the screen, wearing black Under-Armor suits with a pink stripe down the side. Just the duo is about to make it out of the frame on the right side there is a blinding flash and a thunderous boom. Rain begins to assault the boardwalk with a tremendous amount of force. Most of the people sitting at the benches get up and leave, running out of frame, off to their cars or some other form of shelter. One of the persons further down the frame just opens up a large umbrella and sits through the early downpour. ]
[ Closer to the camera a person is a person seated gingerly as if there is nothing going on around them. The rain continues to pour and another flash and boom hits the surrounding area. The person under the umbrella flinches after the thunder and lightning. He then gets up slowly and starts to hobble away, umbrella in his right hand a cane helping support his weight in the left. Just as the elderly gentleman is exiting the shot, the last remaining person seated on the benches begins to stir. He throws a hood over his head, and pushes himself to standing position. He pauses, standing still, then raises his arms to a horizontal level and soaks in the weather. ]
[ The man pivots, noticing the camera for the first time. Just as he stake off in a stride straight toward the machine, another strike of lightning comes down directly behind the man looking like it struck him in the head. A tremendous boom hit slightly after the lightning, making the audio fuzzier as the wind picks up. The man is still proceeding directly toward the camera. As he approaches at a quick rate, his face is unseen his head slightly down and the hood covering what would otherwise be visible. ]
[ The stranger is now but a mere foot away from the camera when he lifts his head reviling that he is in fact no stranger but USPW’s own Crysis Harvey. Crysis has a strange twinge on his face, his eyes look darkened and focused. His mouth begins to twitch slightly, and then he begins to express his thoughts. ]
Crysis : I have chased this prize before; I failed.
[ Crysis pauses for a while, determinated to find the will to continue opening his mind to the camera, all whilst still being pounded with rain drops that look like the size quarters on film. ]
Crysis : This time the match is special, this time the champion can lose to nine other men, this time the champion is a different man ENTIRELY!
[ Another pause, but now the strange twinge that was on Crysis’ face has transformed into a look of distain. ]
Crysis : I will survive this match, just as I have weathered this (Crysis pulls the hood off of his head, his mask clearly soaked with rain, points skyward) storm. I AM CRYSIS, The summer cannot wilt me, the winter cannot freeze me, the spring cannot spoil me, and the fall cannot harvest me! The ramifications of putting this match together are unknown, but the spoiler is this, 8 of the men in this match cannot count on anyone but themselves. There are two of us, two demons, which can do the damage, two demons that are capable of holding the World Title. I AM CRYSIS, demon born, angles scorn, battled, tattered, and torn. Rising from the ashes like a Phoenix, reborn!
[ The rain continues to splatter everything violently. Another blinding flash and thunderous boom surround the boardwalk. When the camera refocuses Crysis is nowhere in sight. ]
{Fade To Black}
[ The wind in the area begins to pick up more as a slight whistling is heard on the audio of the camera. A newspaper floats across the screen from right to left. A pair of female joggers enters the left side of the screen, wearing black Under-Armor suits with a pink stripe down the side. Just the duo is about to make it out of the frame on the right side there is a blinding flash and a thunderous boom. Rain begins to assault the boardwalk with a tremendous amount of force. Most of the people sitting at the benches get up and leave, running out of frame, off to their cars or some other form of shelter. One of the persons further down the frame just opens up a large umbrella and sits through the early downpour. ]
[ Closer to the camera a person is a person seated gingerly as if there is nothing going on around them. The rain continues to pour and another flash and boom hits the surrounding area. The person under the umbrella flinches after the thunder and lightning. He then gets up slowly and starts to hobble away, umbrella in his right hand a cane helping support his weight in the left. Just as the elderly gentleman is exiting the shot, the last remaining person seated on the benches begins to stir. He throws a hood over his head, and pushes himself to standing position. He pauses, standing still, then raises his arms to a horizontal level and soaks in the weather. ]
[ The man pivots, noticing the camera for the first time. Just as he stake off in a stride straight toward the machine, another strike of lightning comes down directly behind the man looking like it struck him in the head. A tremendous boom hit slightly after the lightning, making the audio fuzzier as the wind picks up. The man is still proceeding directly toward the camera. As he approaches at a quick rate, his face is unseen his head slightly down and the hood covering what would otherwise be visible. ]
[ The stranger is now but a mere foot away from the camera when he lifts his head reviling that he is in fact no stranger but USPW’s own Crysis Harvey. Crysis has a strange twinge on his face, his eyes look darkened and focused. His mouth begins to twitch slightly, and then he begins to express his thoughts. ]
Crysis : I have chased this prize before; I failed.
[ Crysis pauses for a while, determinated to find the will to continue opening his mind to the camera, all whilst still being pounded with rain drops that look like the size quarters on film. ]
Crysis : This time the match is special, this time the champion can lose to nine other men, this time the champion is a different man ENTIRELY!
[ Another pause, but now the strange twinge that was on Crysis’ face has transformed into a look of distain. ]
Crysis : I will survive this match, just as I have weathered this (Crysis pulls the hood off of his head, his mask clearly soaked with rain, points skyward) storm. I AM CRYSIS, The summer cannot wilt me, the winter cannot freeze me, the spring cannot spoil me, and the fall cannot harvest me! The ramifications of putting this match together are unknown, but the spoiler is this, 8 of the men in this match cannot count on anyone but themselves. There are two of us, two demons, which can do the damage, two demons that are capable of holding the World Title. I AM CRYSIS, demon born, angles scorn, battled, tattered, and torn. Rising from the ashes like a Phoenix, reborn!
[ The rain continues to splatter everything violently. Another blinding flash and thunderous boom surround the boardwalk. When the camera refocuses Crysis is nowhere in sight. ]
{Fade To Black}