continued from here || blxckfromhell
Aleister was a quiet type of guy outside the ring, someone that preferred to spend the night reading his books about occultism and cuddling his two cats, but that night was a different one. A blonde tall man with such a raspy voice was kind of obsessed with him and that man happened to be Dean Ambrose. The former NXT champion really had no idea why the younger male wanted to fight because they never crossed their paths before… but having a walk outside wasn’t too bad to find it out ; the Dutch Destroyer was missing the light of the moon and the fresh wind after all.
“Ambrose…where are you…” Aleister whispered looking around and trying to find the lunatic. A Denny’s parking lot. Typical Ambrose. He had to be somewere. “I’m here…are you ready to play with the Devil?” He questioned, adjusting his Black Craft Cult hoodie and rolling up his sleeves.
Something about the tattooed male from the NXT brand just set him off. No, he wasn’t angry. And it definitely wasn’t anything that Aleister had done either, but there was a desire to start a war. He couldn’t quite put a word on it, he just knew it would have to happen. The dirty blonde had already called him out, showing up early to the parking lot because he wanted to be the first one there. Donned in typical t-shirt and jeans, the lunatic cracked at his knuckles and paced the lot until the voice sounded out at him.
Turning to face the call with a shrug of his shoulders, the Ohioan retorted. “How about we get to it and stop talkin’, devil boy.” He moved towards the other to close their distance, fists already up in defense, prepared to strike first. He smirked, taking the other’s frame in for a second before he simply went at the other, wild swings here or there, not caring if they hit or missed. The simple need to fight was being fulfilled finally.