Post by raze on Feb 21, 2024 19:41:59 GMT -8
Jericho sits in his training room, dumbbell in hand as he gets some tricep work in. It never ceased to surprise him how many people would get into weight training so keenly, but forget about tricep work. He had replied to Douglas says ago, yet still he felt it: that nagging voice in the back of his mind, those twinges deep in his soul.
One set down, change arms. As he started the new set, he saw only the visions in his head of the rookie mistake that caused his recent loss, that haste. And of Douglas making his speech. It consumed him because the two things added up in his mind's eye.
Douglas Crane was right.
He was holding back the fury that burned inside him and in so doing, wasn't giving all he had. In his quest for self-control, he had made a fundamental error; going from one extreme to the other. From no control to nothing but. The brighter the light, the deeper shadows. He had to learn to strike the balance that would sit right with himself. He had felt only slight stirrings of his inner devil, but no fight to contain it. But he had treated new anger, new frustrations as reversion to his old ways. He saw them that he was wrong, that he could let that out without going too far. He could ride that wave until it was no longer necessary, just like he used to before his 'episodes' hit.
Change back to left arm. He had remade himself into a better man, but now, he had a clearer view of what not to do. He didn't need to suppress anger from new sources, he could snap back and remain the new man he now was. Assess. Learn. Adapt. Survive.
The thought of not being booked at Legendary came as an opportunity to use that time to make the changes he needed to in order to get right back in it, but he couldn't shake off the distrust he felt at his next match. A title shot against Rowena at Glory. Stanton's show. The man who stepped in for her when Jericho had retaliated. It seemed off, he felt it in his bones something is coming. He'd focus on his opponent and treat it like the match it deserved to be; a serious championship bout, but if it didn't remain one on one, he'd adapt and handle it. Assess. Learn. Adapt. Survive.
He couldn't help but smile a little as he set the weights down and took a long drink of his protein shake. He'd cared nothing for the Glory championship, but taking it would be an ideal way to punish the attacks. Were this to come to pass, he knew what to do with it. He'd promoted titles before, fought to make them mean something. He knew his opponent was tougher than her frame suggested, but he had gone up against so many sadists and hardcore fanatics. He knew how to step up to meet the challenge. He knew what he had done wrong. He knew he built his worldwide name by making sure he never fell into the same traps twice. It never stopped him stepping into other ones, but he always made sure it happened only once. His escalations forced others to get creative.
Setting his drink down, he grabbed his towel and wiped himself down. He'd shower later, but he had other workouts to get done first. After that, it would be time to make a change and see where that road would take him. It was time to stop holding in what didn't need to be held in. Time to stop letting his fear of himself hold him back from carving his own path. There was no telling where it'd take him, but he was driven, determined, and way too stubborn to quit. He'd get there. It was time to make his choice; would he commit to it and let the chips fall where they may, or would he continue to use something that just wasn't working?
"Fuck that", he thought to himself. "Time to let some instinct take hold. Time to switch things up, take a turn down a slightly different path, and fuck anyone who wasn't with him on that. He'd find his way in his way. He would stand alone and take everything on as it comes. He wasn't done in the industry.
And it was time people learned that.
One set down, change arms. As he started the new set, he saw only the visions in his head of the rookie mistake that caused his recent loss, that haste. And of Douglas making his speech. It consumed him because the two things added up in his mind's eye.
Douglas Crane was right.
He was holding back the fury that burned inside him and in so doing, wasn't giving all he had. In his quest for self-control, he had made a fundamental error; going from one extreme to the other. From no control to nothing but. The brighter the light, the deeper shadows. He had to learn to strike the balance that would sit right with himself. He had felt only slight stirrings of his inner devil, but no fight to contain it. But he had treated new anger, new frustrations as reversion to his old ways. He saw them that he was wrong, that he could let that out without going too far. He could ride that wave until it was no longer necessary, just like he used to before his 'episodes' hit.
Change back to left arm. He had remade himself into a better man, but now, he had a clearer view of what not to do. He didn't need to suppress anger from new sources, he could snap back and remain the new man he now was. Assess. Learn. Adapt. Survive.
The thought of not being booked at Legendary came as an opportunity to use that time to make the changes he needed to in order to get right back in it, but he couldn't shake off the distrust he felt at his next match. A title shot against Rowena at Glory. Stanton's show. The man who stepped in for her when Jericho had retaliated. It seemed off, he felt it in his bones something is coming. He'd focus on his opponent and treat it like the match it deserved to be; a serious championship bout, but if it didn't remain one on one, he'd adapt and handle it. Assess. Learn. Adapt. Survive.
He couldn't help but smile a little as he set the weights down and took a long drink of his protein shake. He'd cared nothing for the Glory championship, but taking it would be an ideal way to punish the attacks. Were this to come to pass, he knew what to do with it. He'd promoted titles before, fought to make them mean something. He knew his opponent was tougher than her frame suggested, but he had gone up against so many sadists and hardcore fanatics. He knew how to step up to meet the challenge. He knew what he had done wrong. He knew he built his worldwide name by making sure he never fell into the same traps twice. It never stopped him stepping into other ones, but he always made sure it happened only once. His escalations forced others to get creative.
Setting his drink down, he grabbed his towel and wiped himself down. He'd shower later, but he had other workouts to get done first. After that, it would be time to make a change and see where that road would take him. It was time to stop holding in what didn't need to be held in. Time to stop letting his fear of himself hold him back from carving his own path. There was no telling where it'd take him, but he was driven, determined, and way too stubborn to quit. He'd get there. It was time to make his choice; would he commit to it and let the chips fall where they may, or would he continue to use something that just wasn't working?
"Fuck that", he thought to himself. "Time to let some instinct take hold. Time to switch things up, take a turn down a slightly different path, and fuck anyone who wasn't with him on that. He'd find his way in his way. He would stand alone and take everything on as it comes. He wasn't done in the industry.
And it was time people learned that.