Post by raze on Feb 9, 2024 10:18:10 GMT -8
We see Raze, dressed in track bottoms and running shoes. He is shirtless, giving the camera a view of what it typically obscured by a sleeveless top in his wrestling matches; masses of scars streaking across his chest and abdomen. Long scars, short scars, round scars, all faded by time and the associated recovery. Of course, anyone with even a little medical knowledge (or experience with getting scars) can tell some weren't properly stitched up, barring the ragged one across his throat. His muscular arms fared far better, with only a few small ones here and there, certainly negligible by comparison. And, of course, the brand new scars in the making as the stitches on his head are exposed to the air.
He sits on a futon in what appears to be a home gym. The camera operator can't help but give a little peek at the weights, heavy bag, multi-armed training dummy for the very many variants of kung fu, swords and knives on one wall. A clearing of the throat calls the operator's attention back.
Raze leans forward a little, arms resting on his knees, while his hands hold out a printout. The image on the paper is of a sculpture, a bust statuette of a man with a face on both the front and back of the head. Both faces are identical, making it impossible to call either face the 'front' or 'back' outside of arbitrarily assigning them as such.
Raze: See this?
He looks up, out of frame as he awaits his answer. He gives a small nod, possibly mirroring that of whomever he's talking to.
Raze: This is a piece I saw in an art gallery. Modern art section. The defining feature is obvious, isn't it? Janus, the two-faced god of beginnings, doors, passages, transitions, endings, and shit like that. Know what the sculptor called it?
He lets go of the paper with his right hand, waving it across the air like spacing out a newspaper headline.
Raze: Reflections On The Nature of Modern Society.
He drops the paper completely, his head dipping as he quietly chuckles and shakes his head. He then looks back up.
Raze: How fucking pretentious is that? But this is what I thought about after a strange encounter lately. Now, I'm not calling someone two-faced, it's not that dishonest element. No, in fact, it's more the hidden aspect that the term suggests.
He stands up, cricks his neck and continues.
Raze: See, the term refers to a hidden aspect of someone, having another side to them. We all have it, nothing unusual there. We don't show everything we are. But some things do show anyway, some of it obvious, some subtle. And that's what I saw in Douglas Crane.
He takes a second, preparing himself for what he has to say next. He paces side to side as he continues, allowing us glimpses at his back. If his chest and abdomen were heavily scarred, his back was worse several times over, with the same types of scars, though some criss-cross and overlap, making it particularly difficult to count them. Between the several different types of wound they obviously came from (with a few little round ones there too), there's barely a patch of smooth skin left.
Raze: You told me online you saw something familiar in me and I've been thinking about our meeting at Legendary. Thinking about what I've noticed about you and what we might have in common. It's not that we're of very similar stature, physically. Nah, it's definitely more than skin deep. Know what I suspect it to be?
He holds up a finger as he pauses in his gait.
Raze: We're both haunted by something.
He resumes his pacing, slowly left and right along the frame
Raze: The look in your eyes gives it away. But we know what to look for, don't we? I don't know what exactly it is in you, but it recognises something in me, doesn't it? It's like looking into a warped mirror; it distorts most of the image, but leaves something discernable all the same. Or could I simply be a kindred spirit in your eyes?
His jaw tenses, but his brow doesn't furrow.
Raze: You're curious about me, that much has been made clear, so let me give you some advice, Douglas.
He stops and looks dead on at the lens, his face more or less neutral in it's expression, save for the slight tension at the rear of his jaw.
Raze: Ask me. Ask and I'll tell what I'm willing to tell, but don't delve any further. It took a long time to lay my ghosts to rest and conquer my devils, but maybe there's something I learned there that can help you do the same, if that's what this is.
A hand come up, rubbing his beard as he looks down, out of frame, but his eyes don't seem to be tracking anything. He nods in response to something and looks back at the camera.
Raze: "Release me"... is that what that phrase means? To lay something to rest? Or is it, as I suspect, a plea for something else? You say that to your opponents. What is it you need from them? From what I gather this far, either you feel a sense of release from beating your opponents, or...
He squints at the camera, almost as though interrogating it.
Raze: You want something else from them. Could that be why you were watching me? Do you think I'm the one who can give you what you want, whatever that might be? Is something in you thinking I have the answers you're looking for? Because if you do, well... be careful what you wish for.
Just as he's about to turn away, something stops him dead in his tracks. His dark brown eyes narrow as his gaze returns to the camera.
Raze: Oh, and be very careful in how you try to make it happen. People always did get more than they bargained for with me.
He sits on a futon in what appears to be a home gym. The camera operator can't help but give a little peek at the weights, heavy bag, multi-armed training dummy for the very many variants of kung fu, swords and knives on one wall. A clearing of the throat calls the operator's attention back.
Raze leans forward a little, arms resting on his knees, while his hands hold out a printout. The image on the paper is of a sculpture, a bust statuette of a man with a face on both the front and back of the head. Both faces are identical, making it impossible to call either face the 'front' or 'back' outside of arbitrarily assigning them as such.
Raze: See this?
He looks up, out of frame as he awaits his answer. He gives a small nod, possibly mirroring that of whomever he's talking to.
Raze: This is a piece I saw in an art gallery. Modern art section. The defining feature is obvious, isn't it? Janus, the two-faced god of beginnings, doors, passages, transitions, endings, and shit like that. Know what the sculptor called it?
He lets go of the paper with his right hand, waving it across the air like spacing out a newspaper headline.
Raze: Reflections On The Nature of Modern Society.
He drops the paper completely, his head dipping as he quietly chuckles and shakes his head. He then looks back up.
Raze: How fucking pretentious is that? But this is what I thought about after a strange encounter lately. Now, I'm not calling someone two-faced, it's not that dishonest element. No, in fact, it's more the hidden aspect that the term suggests.
He stands up, cricks his neck and continues.
Raze: See, the term refers to a hidden aspect of someone, having another side to them. We all have it, nothing unusual there. We don't show everything we are. But some things do show anyway, some of it obvious, some subtle. And that's what I saw in Douglas Crane.
He takes a second, preparing himself for what he has to say next. He paces side to side as he continues, allowing us glimpses at his back. If his chest and abdomen were heavily scarred, his back was worse several times over, with the same types of scars, though some criss-cross and overlap, making it particularly difficult to count them. Between the several different types of wound they obviously came from (with a few little round ones there too), there's barely a patch of smooth skin left.
Raze: You told me online you saw something familiar in me and I've been thinking about our meeting at Legendary. Thinking about what I've noticed about you and what we might have in common. It's not that we're of very similar stature, physically. Nah, it's definitely more than skin deep. Know what I suspect it to be?
He holds up a finger as he pauses in his gait.
Raze: We're both haunted by something.
He resumes his pacing, slowly left and right along the frame
Raze: The look in your eyes gives it away. But we know what to look for, don't we? I don't know what exactly it is in you, but it recognises something in me, doesn't it? It's like looking into a warped mirror; it distorts most of the image, but leaves something discernable all the same. Or could I simply be a kindred spirit in your eyes?
His jaw tenses, but his brow doesn't furrow.
Raze: You're curious about me, that much has been made clear, so let me give you some advice, Douglas.
He stops and looks dead on at the lens, his face more or less neutral in it's expression, save for the slight tension at the rear of his jaw.
Raze: Ask me. Ask and I'll tell what I'm willing to tell, but don't delve any further. It took a long time to lay my ghosts to rest and conquer my devils, but maybe there's something I learned there that can help you do the same, if that's what this is.
A hand come up, rubbing his beard as he looks down, out of frame, but his eyes don't seem to be tracking anything. He nods in response to something and looks back at the camera.
Raze: "Release me"... is that what that phrase means? To lay something to rest? Or is it, as I suspect, a plea for something else? You say that to your opponents. What is it you need from them? From what I gather this far, either you feel a sense of release from beating your opponents, or...
He squints at the camera, almost as though interrogating it.
Raze: You want something else from them. Could that be why you were watching me? Do you think I'm the one who can give you what you want, whatever that might be? Is something in you thinking I have the answers you're looking for? Because if you do, well... be careful what you wish for.
Just as he's about to turn away, something stops him dead in his tracks. His dark brown eyes narrow as his gaze returns to the camera.
Raze: Oh, and be very careful in how you try to make it happen. People always did get more than they bargained for with me.