2014.07.16: PWN - LEGACY - Reawakening

"Despite the good showings you've put on, you sure find a way to screw it all up for yourself Silas. I try to suspend belief long enough to try and see you for more than just a self-centered dick but... I can't. No matter how hard I try to pretend that there's more to Silas Romero than a few tattoos and a big mouth, I can't... and you can't say it's because I don't try. I wanna see guys like Silas move through the ranks of the industry and become something but each time he opens his mouth and goes off on a tweet-page about being this Hipster Hercules, the more I want to gauge my eyes out and stick pencils in my ears."

As Romero eluded to, the relationship between brothers at the moment was strained; Miles and Dante weren't talking. Prior to Independence Day, the general consensus was that Miles would find a way to get his career back on track and make a strong showing against Wayne Williams, but he failed. There's no excuses to be had, at the end of the day Miles Lozio couldn't get the job done against Wayne Wilson... but Legacy didn't give up faith in him, not yet anyway. Miles must have showed someone something as they're giving him another opportunity, this time against Silas Romero who was coming off a huge victory over Matlock. Due to the close<r> proximity between Oakland and Carson, Miles used the luxury of returning home after each show, but the problem was that on The Lozio Estate that their father Rocco had bought, he had four houses constructed on the land, one for each of his sons. A run in between the squabbling brothers would happen one way or another, but that wasn't important at the moment. Instead, finding himself seated on the front porch of his light grey painted home, a definitely tired looking Miles Lozio greeted the camera with a smile that was best defined as... half-meaningful. He wanted to be happy, he tried to push himself to keep positive but with everything that went on over the course of the last month, it wasn't easy.

"Welcome... Welcome to the blue-collar city that I was born and raised in. See, Oakland isn't for the weak of heart, our economy is shot our unemployment is equally as torn but this is home... this is where I was born and raised, there's no other place I'd rather be. Over the past month or so, I've experienced another place I consider home... the center of the ring be invaded and forcefully taken away from me from Prince and Ripper Treborn first, then Wayne Williams. Now? The odds aren't in my favor I know, but I can't let Silas Romero throw strike three right over the plate as I stand there and don't even swing... It's too risky as there's too much on the line to lose, and I know... my stock isn't very attractive at the moment. I have a long way to go as I win back some momentum but at Break on Through, it'll be a start... it'll be a fresh start, one I need."

If anyone was aware of how far he had fallen, it was Miles. From being the eldest of four siblings, the man chosen by his father to carry the torch of his surname into the future of the industry and all the backing possible from his fellow brothers, to... being responsible for losing at Friday the 20th, then again failing at Independence Day. Not only did Miles know he failed though, he also failed in two totally different contests, first a tag match with his brother Dante, then in singles action. There wasn't much more that could happen to help swing some momentum in his favor but managing to beat Silas Romero was a start. Miles understood that Silas was on a hot-streak, the guy was talented and could get places but before Miles could worry about the future outside of those he shared his last name with, he needed to focus on reestablishing himself and that same surname. People took it for granted, a guy like Miles was obsessed with the fact of taking the Lozio name into a new generation and have it be a shining moment in the industry, all so if he son one day decided to take part in the business... nobody would question his pedigree. Still Miles was seated on the porch of his Bay Area home, Oakland had a different feel than Carson, things seemed so gloomy there. The clouds was grey... a darker shade than the sky which was similarly colored, the way the wind blew through the area also was just... depressing. But Miles embraced the feel, he used it as motivation to continue marching forward.

"You're right though Silas, I do need to climb shake this whole 'recluse' deal I've got going on..."

Making mention to the stubble, the five o'clock shadow that formed on his face which was highly unusual as he usually only sported goatee of sorts.

"I need to get myself out of this slump and pull myself back up tall... and that starts at Independence Day. Wayne Williams was right, I can't walk into a match envisioning Prince and Ripper Treborn, it's a distraction. I was too busy trying to punish Williams at Independence Day, I..."

The anger that ran through his body at the mere thought of a Treborn had an effect on Miles, his fist clenched and it was almost as if he gritted his teeth. When he found out that Dante was mingling with the men who from the time of birth was drilled into their head as the biggest nemesis a Lozio could have, he lost it. Was it necessarily the right call? Probably not, but Dante was able to see how much Miles despised them and how he wanted to keep his brother from getting mixed up with those guys all because a Treborn couldn't be trusted, they're snakes in the grass. They strike when it's least expected and they like to sink their fangs into the low part of the leg and slither off before they're able to be dealt with. Miles thought the lowest of low of both Prince and Ripper, and despite him trying to block them out to focus on Romero at Break on Through, it was a task.

"... lost focus and it cost me majorly. I won't make excuses over what happened, that's not how I do things. A lost is a lost just like how a win is a win and yeah, you beat Matlock. Technicalities don't matter, they aren't reflected in history books... all that matters is that Silas Romero is scaling the Legacy Wrestling mountain all as Miles Lozio is stuck at the bottom, trying to get his foot up on the mountain to start the ascension. You're right on the account that I can't walk into that match seeing either Prince or Ripper... it'd be asking for trouble. I need to see one man, and one man only; SIlas Romero. The Hipster Hercules, the man who didn't beat around the bush and said on the record that me; Miles Lozio... is nothing but a joke. Thanks for that Silas, it made me see that the errors in my way was projecting an image of me that's nothing but a laughing stock, a freakin' joke. I want to thank you Silas for telling me straight what people think of me because I PROMISE you, there won't be no distractions on Saturday. There won't be any remorse neither as I not just stop the momentum you've managed to achieve, but I do it in an emphatic manner. We'll see who's laughing when I do what Matlock couldn't and knock you down... but keep you down as well. As much as I respect what you've accomplished in your short time and how you've managed to shut critics up, I'm a different breed of critic. Have I fallen of rough times as of late? Oh yeah, but don't get it twisted thinking that you'll be able to use me as another stepping stone as you get yourself to the next level."

A sudden mood shift was in the works as the Miles Lozio that sat before the camera was totally different than the one that kicked everything off. His eyes lit up as if a fire was set, the tired, almost worn out expression that was etched across his face had disappeared and that smirk, the trademark Miles Lozio smirk that women gushed over had reappeared all as he ran his hand over his head and moved his hair from his eyes.

"... thank you Silas, you'll never know how much I appreciated this moment in time. Just as you helped me see something... I'll do you the same favor. Don't for a solitary second mistake me for Matt Matlock... and I don't approach things the way he does. Matlock has been away from the game, he underestimated what you're capable of doing... I won't. I learned that lesson the hard way with Wayne Williams and I don't make the same mistake twice. You're a talented guy, I've said it in the past and for that reason alone I'll make sure there's no room for you to slip in and take things over. You're a striker to the highest quality, I respect that. But you know where I make my money?!"

Using his right hand to tap the flat surface of the stoop he was sitting above.

"On the mat. I make my money as a technical wrestler, and there's no questioning that. You can go ahead, in fact I implore you to go and make a mockery of my record in Legacy, I urge you bro, go ahead and do it. Put yourself on a pedestal that makes you look like a demigod as you like to refer to yourself as... 'Hercules' because at Break on Through, we're not going to be engaged in a striking contest, we're in a wrestling match and I'll make you wrestle. This isn't mixed martial arts bro, you can be the supreme knockout, you can coin yourself all these fancy nicknames where you put yourself across as the second coming of Lyon Gaultier... it'll just make it that much sweeter when you're tapping like there's no tomorrow once you're stuck in The Bull Clutch as I rip your shoulder from it's socket."

Miles' words had a definite air of confidence to it, the questioning he had done earlier had vanished. It wasn't known what exactly helped him wake up and see that so suddenly, but whatever got him out of the mental slump he was in since the blow up with Dante and the losses in Legacy it would make Romero's job harder... much harder than it originally appeared to be. Romero probably banked on the thought that he'd be facing a shell of a man, but that didn't seem to be the case here and now.

"It's time I put an end to the nonsense and embrace the title of The Golden State Warrior, something I've failed time and time again to do. Go head Hipster Hercules, try your best to knock me out bro, I'd like to see it. I want to see how fast you can throw that elbow of yours 'cause if it ain't fast enough? I'll tear the ligaments in it and leave you nothing more than a One Armed Wonder. Thanks for waking me up, now deal with what comes with the territory. I do have a feeling though..."

Before he was able to finish his sentence, the seemingly rejuvenated Miles Lozio pushed himself to his feet, allowing the camera to shoot from an angle pointed upwards. Despite the gloomy sky, a trace of the sun broke through the gray behind him, whether or not this was pre-planned wasn't known but the moment definitely was cool from a photographic point of view. With a beam of sunlight burning through the clouds and serving as a beacon of hope for a totally different reason, it also represented Miles' pledge to move forward and distance himself from the failures of the past..

".. you won't enjoy it too much. I appreciate you wanting to see me get myself back on track and whether you like it or not, you're gonna be the sacrifice needed to get my name back into the mix of things. You're a good guy Silas, the tattoos? The ego? It serves you right, gives you an edge, but we'll see how much of an edge it is when you're tapping from pain... we'll see how much of a bad-ass you are with your strikes when I keep you grounded and make you wrestle. We'll see how much of a Hipster demigod you are when you stand eye to eye with me... and realize that you were better off not poking the sleeping giant. This giant is awake now and the only way to get him back to sleep isn't by knocking him out, but by the sweet sound of a ligament ripping at his expense."

Finishing his statement off with a scoff, Miles cocked his head back just a bit and continued to stare down at the camera all as it faded off... to black.