The Rivers Ran Red With Blood (o2 Prophet)

[therask]

After the match had ended and Dark Hawk laid on the ground with his face covered in blood, as he regained conciousness he stood up and walked to the corner and brought the mic to his mouth.

Prophet ... I have to admit it, you prove to me how tough you truely are and maybe I shoot my mouth of alittle too much and I think together we would make awsome allies or maybe even better enemies but whatever your choice ...... I now respect you.......


Dark Hawk extends his hand for Prophet to shake, and awaits his decision

[prophet]

His response comes without a microphone.

Allies and enemies? Respect? Such trivial things to value. This battle was only exactly what it was my friend, a battle. A trial by fire and a baptism in blood as it was I said it would be.

If you have truly seen the light like you say you have though, then you indeed can take my hand, and we can begin to cleanse this place of the folly and the inequity that wreaks like a foul, rotten stench. Only though if you are willing to do away with your trivial, materialistic ways can you begin to know the difference between the weak and the strong. The choice is now in your hands.

What would that choice be?

[therask]

I think that I am ready to find the difference between the weak and the strong, and with our help I will be able to do away with my trivial ways and then we will clease this place and bring some order to this place

He reaches out and shakes his hand