Post by raze on Feb 16, 2024 18:14:10 GMT -8
Raze is at home, but dressed for a biker bar, as usual. Grey camo cargos, a black t-shirt and biker vest. Whatever might be on his t-shirt is obscured by the Epiphone flying V strapped round him. The lover of thrash, punk, and grunge is playing the main riff of Horse Called War. He is, of course, dialled up loud. So loud he can't hear when the camera op says something to him, his voice almost totally drowned out. Raze is in the zone, just looking down at his overdrive and wah pedals as he plays, opening and closing the wah pedal at the appropriate times. He plays well and is about to transition to chorus when a small, wadded up piece of paper flies at him from out of frame, hitting his left hand as he's fretting the chord. Finally, his attention is caught.
As he nods at the other person, he pulls the lead out of his guitar, turns off the Peavey stack, and takes off the instrument and sets it on its stand.
Raze: That time already, eh? Had to play a bit, get back in my right mind frame.
He sighs through his nose, which he briefly rubs with a finger.
Raze: So, Douglas, you had some questions for me. There's that curiosity I saw in you. I know things at Glory didn't go as planned. Rookie mistake. That's on us. Shit happens. But I'm gonna focus on you, Douglas, and what you had to say.
He holds up an index finger during the last sentence, shaking it as if to confirm something.
Raze: You mentioned seeing the fire in me, the pain, the desire, anger. You had questions about why I keep the anger locked away. How heavy my sins are.
He nods his head as his eyes cast downward momentarily. Another scratch, this time next to the nose.
Raze: Have you seen my body? My sins are etched into my skin. It's a grim tapestry of the sins I've either committed, punished, or had committed against me. But if you want to know a few things- and I did say you could ask- then let me give you a history lesson.
A crick of the neck loosens him up a bit as he begins.
Raze: During a hardcore title defence, my opponent and I ended up at a gas station in Tokyo. Being one for escalation, I put the fuel to use and covered him in the stuff. Long story short, the gas station exploded in one hell of a huge fireball! He managed to get away, just in time. The Japanese government weren't very pleased with me.
In another defence of that title, I wrapped barbed wire around another guy's neck and stomped it into his throat. The ref stopped the match and they rushed him to hospital. Don't know where he ended up, but he never came back. It's not what you think; if he died, I'd have been neck deep in the shit.
He takes a seat on the leather couch and takes a sip of what might be water from a glass.
Raze: When I was sent to attack someone - someone in our roster, by the way - I went too far with it and she ended up in a coma, fighting for her life. She got her revenge on me. Even back then, that was the only thing I regretted. When my mind snapped, I had a phase, where I'd bust people open, stick my lips to the wound, and drank straight out their heads. We've all heard apocryphal tales of warlords drinking from their enemies' skulls and there I was, actually doing it. The adrenaline in their blood kicked like a mule and sent me into a violent delirium.
As he speaks on the blood, his eyes widen ever so slightly and stop blinking. There's a hardness to the look, though it's a change in his face he probably isn't even aware of.
Another sigh, this time from the mouth, venting the tension as he looks down, his long hair falling in front of him, until he lifts his head and sweeps it back with a hand.
Raze: When I felt people in that company were getting too complacent, I secretly brought in a new group, who'd do what the Conglomerate are now. The idea was to wake the roster up and drive them out, but instead, almost took down the company and I had to help set it right. The sacrificial lamb I brought in almost destroyed the church. That's just some of the shit I did as a wrestler.
He takes another sip and clears his throat.
Raze: So, how heavy are my sins? I almost killed three people, almost killed a company I wanted to save, attacked anyone who even slightly irritated me, and... oh yeah, vampirism, technically. I've set fires, blew up a VIP parking lot, kidnapped a former manager, threw acid at someone, and fuck knows what else there was. My sins are more numerous than most. More than much of this roster, combined. And that's just on the wrestling side of things.
So, now you see why I don't pick a side, hop off the fence in this war. You see why I keep the rage contained. Bad things can happen, even when I do, I'm still capable of really hurting people. But even worse things happen when I don't.
His gaze harden again, but this time looks different. It's serious; his jaw is set, brow tense, eyes alert, but no more so than anyone discussing a serious topic.
Raze: People think that shows strength, but I've come to understand that's not strictly true. Being able to stay in control of those urges, that is strength. It's discipline. People confuse restraint for fear or weakness, but it's not. It's control. But are my sins heavier than yours? We all have a cross to bear. You'd need a crane to lift mine. But I can't answer your other question until I know what your sins are.
He leans back on his swat on the couch, which creaks as he moves and shifts position.
Raze: I have been through hell too many times to count and brought it with me, until I eventually realised I didn't need to make my home there anymore. But now you get it. I wasn't just a bad guy, I was the devil himself. Quite how I didn't cop attempted murder and terrorism charges, I don't know. But now, I have ironclad controls in place. I can bring serious punishment without giving in to that, I can still give an opponent a lot of trouble without straying off my path. My hexenhammer still hits as hard as it ever did. My chaos drop is still devastating, and my shut the fuck up?
He gives a shrug.
Raze: Well, that still gets my opponents doing just that!
He gives a half smile and a flick of the eyebrows, the first bit of humour he has shown.
Raze: Consider my words carefully. All this stuff I've told you were witnessed by a few of the people working here, mostly staffers. From Kelli Saint, to Butterscotch, to Cedric Southern, and a few in between, saw it all from start to finish. Just be nice about it if you choose to ask any of them for confirmation. You followed the last piece of advice I gave, so make it two for two if you don't believe me already. This revelation will likely change how certain people feel about me, but hey, there shall come a time, where every tongue shall confess, you know? I imagine that answers your questions thoroughly enough. Now, I'm getting back to something more fun than a round of confession.[/color]
He grabs his guitar and bends down to grab the lead, plugging it in after setting the strap round his shoulders. With the flick of a switch, he starts playing Fireball Ministry's "King", as the scene fades to black.
As he nods at the other person, he pulls the lead out of his guitar, turns off the Peavey stack, and takes off the instrument and sets it on its stand.
Raze: That time already, eh? Had to play a bit, get back in my right mind frame.
He sighs through his nose, which he briefly rubs with a finger.
Raze: So, Douglas, you had some questions for me. There's that curiosity I saw in you. I know things at Glory didn't go as planned. Rookie mistake. That's on us. Shit happens. But I'm gonna focus on you, Douglas, and what you had to say.
He holds up an index finger during the last sentence, shaking it as if to confirm something.
Raze: You mentioned seeing the fire in me, the pain, the desire, anger. You had questions about why I keep the anger locked away. How heavy my sins are.
He nods his head as his eyes cast downward momentarily. Another scratch, this time next to the nose.
Raze: Have you seen my body? My sins are etched into my skin. It's a grim tapestry of the sins I've either committed, punished, or had committed against me. But if you want to know a few things- and I did say you could ask- then let me give you a history lesson.
A crick of the neck loosens him up a bit as he begins.
Raze: During a hardcore title defence, my opponent and I ended up at a gas station in Tokyo. Being one for escalation, I put the fuel to use and covered him in the stuff. Long story short, the gas station exploded in one hell of a huge fireball! He managed to get away, just in time. The Japanese government weren't very pleased with me.
In another defence of that title, I wrapped barbed wire around another guy's neck and stomped it into his throat. The ref stopped the match and they rushed him to hospital. Don't know where he ended up, but he never came back. It's not what you think; if he died, I'd have been neck deep in the shit.
He takes a seat on the leather couch and takes a sip of what might be water from a glass.
Raze: When I was sent to attack someone - someone in our roster, by the way - I went too far with it and she ended up in a coma, fighting for her life. She got her revenge on me. Even back then, that was the only thing I regretted. When my mind snapped, I had a phase, where I'd bust people open, stick my lips to the wound, and drank straight out their heads. We've all heard apocryphal tales of warlords drinking from their enemies' skulls and there I was, actually doing it. The adrenaline in their blood kicked like a mule and sent me into a violent delirium.
As he speaks on the blood, his eyes widen ever so slightly and stop blinking. There's a hardness to the look, though it's a change in his face he probably isn't even aware of.
Another sigh, this time from the mouth, venting the tension as he looks down, his long hair falling in front of him, until he lifts his head and sweeps it back with a hand.
Raze: When I felt people in that company were getting too complacent, I secretly brought in a new group, who'd do what the Conglomerate are now. The idea was to wake the roster up and drive them out, but instead, almost took down the company and I had to help set it right. The sacrificial lamb I brought in almost destroyed the church. That's just some of the shit I did as a wrestler.
He takes another sip and clears his throat.
Raze: So, how heavy are my sins? I almost killed three people, almost killed a company I wanted to save, attacked anyone who even slightly irritated me, and... oh yeah, vampirism, technically. I've set fires, blew up a VIP parking lot, kidnapped a former manager, threw acid at someone, and fuck knows what else there was. My sins are more numerous than most. More than much of this roster, combined. And that's just on the wrestling side of things.
So, now you see why I don't pick a side, hop off the fence in this war. You see why I keep the rage contained. Bad things can happen, even when I do, I'm still capable of really hurting people. But even worse things happen when I don't.
His gaze harden again, but this time looks different. It's serious; his jaw is set, brow tense, eyes alert, but no more so than anyone discussing a serious topic.
Raze: People think that shows strength, but I've come to understand that's not strictly true. Being able to stay in control of those urges, that is strength. It's discipline. People confuse restraint for fear or weakness, but it's not. It's control. But are my sins heavier than yours? We all have a cross to bear. You'd need a crane to lift mine. But I can't answer your other question until I know what your sins are.
He leans back on his swat on the couch, which creaks as he moves and shifts position.
Raze: I have been through hell too many times to count and brought it with me, until I eventually realised I didn't need to make my home there anymore. But now you get it. I wasn't just a bad guy, I was the devil himself. Quite how I didn't cop attempted murder and terrorism charges, I don't know. But now, I have ironclad controls in place. I can bring serious punishment without giving in to that, I can still give an opponent a lot of trouble without straying off my path. My hexenhammer still hits as hard as it ever did. My chaos drop is still devastating, and my shut the fuck up?
He gives a shrug.
Raze: Well, that still gets my opponents doing just that!
He gives a half smile and a flick of the eyebrows, the first bit of humour he has shown.
Raze: Consider my words carefully. All this stuff I've told you were witnessed by a few of the people working here, mostly staffers. From Kelli Saint, to Butterscotch, to Cedric Southern, and a few in between, saw it all from start to finish. Just be nice about it if you choose to ask any of them for confirmation. You followed the last piece of advice I gave, so make it two for two if you don't believe me already. This revelation will likely change how certain people feel about me, but hey, there shall come a time, where every tongue shall confess, you know? I imagine that answers your questions thoroughly enough. Now, I'm getting back to something more fun than a round of confession.[/color]
He grabs his guitar and bends down to grab the lead, plugging it in after setting the strap round his shoulders. With the flick of a switch, he starts playing Fireball Ministry's "King", as the scene fades to black.