Oswald Knight: “High in the halls of would be kings, only the ghosts remain behind. A reminder of those who had been gone for so very long.” Oswald began, his voice low and thoughtful, a complex expression adorning his face.
Oswald’s eyes flickered open, as if a switch had been activated. There was a oddly composed look alighting itself astride Oswald’s face. Laid flat on the solid oak table sat a history book, a book detailing the rise and fall of the last royal family that had called Japan home. Rubbing a hand along his chin, thoughts began to take form, to create a tapestry of events inside Oswald’s mind.
Oswald Knight: “History is full of events, births, deaths, wars, treaties, weddings, divorces. What do all these things have in common? It’s simple. Someone has to lose, someone has to win. When one race, one person gains something from another, it’s usually done in a way that is more often than not less than humane for the loser.”
Oswald flicked through the historical tome, studying each page with unwavering focus. After all it had been chosen that Oswald’s tale would be one that showcased the strength of his mind, of his spirit as opposed to a tale born of physicality.
A chaotic darkness gleamed in the depths of his eyes, eyes that saw far too much, felt too much, eyes that had been opened to the inherent cruelty of humanity. There it was, a shadow crept over Oswald’s face, a intensity filling out his features.
Flashing behind Oswald’s eyes were endless moments of his life, moments in which his strength had failed him. Moments in which he’d taken what he wanted by force, moments in which he’d shown kindness if only a self serving type of kindness.
Oswald Knight: Growling low in his throat “I come not as a hero, nor as a villain. I am simply what is born into the world as a countermeasure to those who abuse their power, a instrument of true chaos. Never shall my spirit be broken, I’ll keep on fighting long after I’ve taken victory. Quote Mr Penguin forevermore”.
His appearance had turned on a dime, reflected a odd sense of eerie calm. Composure would become his key attribute. At his heart Oswald was a showman, a performer, who sought the adulation of the crowd, the boo’s sounding like cheers to his ears. Those boos told Oswald that he was loved, that he was seen, that he would be remembered for eternity.
Deep down that was what Oswald wanted. To be remembered.
Fate had marked Oswald, had selected him to become a force of chaos, unwavering, deadly and relentless in his quest to take that which he desired. However first he had to survive a match first, youngblood survivor series it would be called.
Press conference, 24 hours before Youngblood Survivor Series
“Ladies and Gentlemen, your attention please, today you found yourselves in the presence of ‘Mr Penguin’ Oswald Knight. Mr Knight has asked me to issue a statement, or rather a command really. Mind your manners, lest I forget my own” spoke the trembling pencil necked young man with pale green eyes.
Minutes later the temperature of the room dropped, a chill biting into the air itself. Croaky and sarcastically amused laughter echoed throughout the air. Oswald strode onto stage, still laughing as he looked upon the assembled reporters and civilians alike.
‘Mr Penguin’ Oswald Knight: “Good morning peasants, your silence is expected. After all it would be hardly fair to expect any of you to possess the ability to form a rational thought now would it?”.
???: “Peasants? Does that mean you think yourself nobility? A member of the ruling class? Are we in the presence of the elite?” spoke a shaky tremulous voice belonging to a middle aged woman.
‘Mr Penguin’ Oswald Knight: “I know myself to be a member of nobility, to be elite, not by virtue of blood but as a result of hard work, earning my place at the table. Whether by foul means or fair, I have taken a seat at the table, began my ascension towards becoming a major player in the criminal underworld”.
A pause happened here, multiple breaths taken in, silence so deep that one could hear a pin dropping, each breath like a gunshot amidst the silence.
???: “The criminal underworld? You?. Is that a joke? No self respecting criminal would ever let you sit at their table.” Jeers and laughter followed this presumptive statement, the amusement on their faces causing Oswald’s jaw to tighten, barely noticeable if you weren’t looking his way.
Quietly Oswald took a steadying breath, ice filling his veins. The chill reflective of the glacial state that formed his personality.
‘Mr Penguin’ Oswald Knight: “No it’s not a joke. I mean it. I’ve taken a seat at the table, a deal has been struck. In less than two months I’ve achieved more than any of you assembled here could ever hope to accomplish.”
Looks of confusion and amusement were shared, not a single soul knowing quite what to make of Oswald’s statement.
???: “That’s enough this joke has gone on for far too long. We’ve all had a good laugh, a fine jest at the idea that you could be anything other than a arrogant, prideful, showman who has somehow become convinced that he’s going to amount to anything in this world”.
‘Mr Penguin’ Oswald Knight: “This is no mere joke I assure you. No jest or mockery. Just the simple irrefutable truth.”
???: “Does your delusion know no bounds? Has your mind become so warped that you cannot recognise reality anymore?. This weekend you’ve been booked into the youngblood survivor series match, a match that on a surface level would seem to suit you down to the bone, any final words for your opponents? For everyone tuning in to this press conference?”.
“Mr Penguin’ Oswald Knight: “Spread the word to all your friends, Mr Penguin is coming. I’ll survive, I’ll lay claim to victory. Very soon one and all shall see the truth of Mr Penguin and once you do no one will be laughing then. Of that I can assure you without pause. Underestimate me at your own peril.”
On the heel of those words Oswald exited the room with a graceful mocking bow, a odourless poison gas spilling into the room, leaving only one person alive to convey Oswald’s warning.
//Oswald’s nightclub, one hour later//
‘Mr Penguin’ Oswald Knight: “Survival is the name of the game. I plan to survive by any means fair or foul, I’ll betray anyone and everyone to get my hand raised in victory. All that matters is that come the conclusion of the match, you all remember me, that I was ever the opportunistic soul who did what was needed to claim victory”.
Oswald’s mocking laughter rang out for several seconds before silence took centre stage of his night club.
And just like that Oswald had cemented his reputation as a creature of chaos, a man allied only to his own interests.