Road to ONE, pt.4 -- Fight Like A Girl [Match RP#2] Dec 22, 2013 18:03:26 GMT -5
Post by raYne on Dec 22, 2013 18:03:26 GMT -5
'My heart is a weapon of war.
My voice is my weapon of choice.
An eye for an eye,
A heart for a heart,
A soul for a soul.
We fight for the dream,
We fight to the death,
'We fight for control.'
~ Emilie. Fucking. Autumn.
Friday the 13th, -- Dec. '13 -- 3:13pm [CST]
"You surround yourself with whores. With booze. With anything to mask the pain inside.
"Mod... I told you.
I know you.
"Or at least... I was."
The scene opens to the inner sanctum of a temple. The church that had been mentioned in a previous raYne promo. The one he erected in his own home, The Mac Manor. A tribute.
raYne sits upon a pew, his black leather, dirt-encrusted workboots firmly resting on the back of the seat in front of him. He wears a pair of rugged, shredded jeans; his hair is long, flowing, jet black with blood red highlights. Upon his crown, he wears a black baseball cap, pulled backwards, with the 'anarchy' insignia stitched across the front in red. His hands are slipped into a pair of black, leather biker gloves; around his throat, he wears a black choker, lined with red spikes; and his t-shirt is crimson red, with one symbol emblazoned across the front in black--
Below this, in small text, it reads-- 'ours'.
raYne sits, his arms folded behind his head, his eyes staring straight ahead at the pulpit. He looks well-rested. Healthy. And for him, that's an odd sight as of late. For months, years even, raYne had been living in a personal hell. A hell that caused him to neglect himself. To mistreat himself. To hate himself.
But ever since he began to speak with her-- that began to change. It took a while. A LONG while. A change that's still taking place, step by step, day by day. But slowly, surely, he was undergoing a transformation. She pieced him together... making him whole again. He began to eat, every day. To sleep, every night. To take his meds morning, noon, and right before his head hit the pillow. Old habits die hard. Bad habits die harder. But with her help, he was slowly overcoming each obstacle he'd placed in his own path. With her guidance, he broke through all those barriers he'd raised over the years... they all began to crumble & vanish, within a matter of nine months.
She was his miracle worker.
$hane stares ahead, eyes set upon the pulpit at the front of the temple. He chuckles lightly to himself. Facetiously.
"21 years. Twenty-one years, Moddie. That's how long I spent burying myself in my own sorrow. Since age eight. That Halloween, my favorite holiday of the year... ruined. I came home from trick-or-treating, and my reality came crashing down around me as soon as I stepped through the front door.
"You wanna talk family problems?
Moddie... I have no family.
"No blood relatives, anyway. My mother left me that night. She found my father, in bed with my babysitter. After years of putting up with physical abuse, mental, emotional, every kind you can think of... that was the last straw. She packed her things, she told me one day she would come back for me... and she was gone. Haven't seen her since. Lived with that BASTARD till about age thirteen, seeing him fondle my 'sitter on a daily basis. While he called me every name in the book.
"You know what's funny, Mod.. you know what's REALLY fuckin' funny?"
As soon as these words escape raYne's lips, he shifts forward in his seat, placing his feet solidly on the ground. He folds his arms in his lap, gazing down at the floor below... he's seething.
"Every name. EVERY. SINGLE. FUCKING name... that you hurl at me? Came from my father's mouth. 'It'. 'He/she'. 'Faggot'.
"Moddie... you are a lucky, LUCKY son-of-a-bitch. And you wanna know why? Because you HAVE a father. Yes, he's locked in a cage, yes, he only sees you when the guards give the ok, YES it must be hell for you...
"... but you wanna know what true hell is?"
At this, raYne whips his head to the side, glaring into the camera's lens. A fire burns behind his eyes, and his face is twisted into a callous expression.
"True hell, Moddie, TRUE hell... is knowing that the man that gave birth to you. The man that brought you into this world. The ONLY blood family you have left. Doesn't give one. Single. FUCK about you. And would honestly rather see you rot in hell than spend one day tossing around a baseball. Would rather your flesh melt from the bone and have you spend an eternity skewered with pitchforks as you gasp for one drop of water... rather than tell you he loves you.
"That Moddie... that is hell."
raYne stands from his seat, placing a hand on the back of the same pew his feet had been resting on. He lowers his head slightly, his eyes still trained on the camera. He begins to breathe heavily... takes in a long, drawn-out breath through his nose, before releasing through his mouth.
"So, yes, Mod... words hurt. They DAMNED sure hurt. You can mask it behind some explanation of 'bad gay' as opposed to 'good'. You can try and spin it however you wish, to make it appear as if others of my ilk would laugh right beside you.
"But my personal truth. MY BELIEF...
Is that you are a heartless, cold, shallow individual.
Just like my dad.
"And when we step into the ring and square off, face to face, nose to nose? That's what I will see. I will see Frank Gordon, the sorry son-of-a-BITCH that raped my childhood. The man that left me as I was for years... till she sewed me back together. And made me a better person... gave me new life. Reborn. What he made me died the day she came into my life. The 'Reeve Gordon' that was brought forth from that alcoholic, narrow-minded asshole is no more. The old me... the one that was afraid. The one that drifted from federation to federation, in a dire quest for a home he could never find."
raYne gazes off to the side. He speaks, in a hushed tone, without glancing at the camera.
"The past is left behind.
The future begins right here
"And now...", raYne turns one eye to the lens, "... I HAVE a family. Not blood. But better. My 'Sissy'. The one and only person I can put my faith in. The person I believe in... and who motivates me to believe in myself.
"...and she's just as fucked up as iAm."
raYne lifts his head, focusing soley on the camera
"Moddie... I keep telling you.
You don't know me... NONE of you do.
But you will.
You wish to make a statement?
At ONE... a statement will be made.
But it damned sure won't be the one you're expecting.
"Keep your eyes open."
raYne smles. An odd, almost unnerving smile... before brushing past the camera. As the scene fades.
~ ? ~
Nov 27, 2013 5:40:52 GMT -5 @moddeuce said:And then it dawned on him. This whole "meaning to life" thing. Its just like this travelling thing. It doesn't matter the destination, but rather the journey. How you get there is what counts, and what you did during the journey is what matters the most.
It doesn't matter that he has static with raYne, or that he's facing three guys at the next edition of Slam, or the fact that Sarah Twilight has so much contempt for the members of the roster. Its all about how to handle all of these situations. Just like how he dealt with Detroit by leaving it behind. How he handled college by saving for his return. How he took care of his brother by sending him money from his work while staying in the good graces of his aunt for the time being. That is all this is. A damn test to see how one handles it all.
His first test is three other unproven wrestlers on the main stage. After that, well, who knows? Maybe raYne will face him like a man, or woman, or whatever term the androgynous use to portray their presence. And maybe, just maybe, he'll make some headway into WCF. Win a few titles, make some cash, but more importantly, find out just what kind of man Mark Jorgensen, or better yet, what kind of man Mod Deuce, really is.
"It's all about the climb, y'all..."
~ Miley Montana
'We are under attack...
What is the body count?
I’ve lost track.
If nobody’s mentioned how this will end,
Then I’ll be the first...
'There are more of US than there are of you,
So SHOW ME YOUR WORST.'
Saturday -- Dec. 21st, 2013 -- 4:20pm [CST]
He stood on a stool, before a bar counter. Inside a bustling club.
Club raYne Dance.
"RAYNE! Babe, how's it hangin', mi amigo?! Long and strong, I imagine!"
He knew this voice. Unfortunately...
It was the voice of World Sports Entertainment Chairman of the Bored-- Jack Hoff.
"raYne-y, baby, cookie, honey, monkey--"
"OH WILL YOU KNOCK IT OFF?!"
raYne shouted at Jack, causing many of his club patrons to turn their attention toward him. He smiles, meekly, waving them off.
"Dammit, Jack, I thought next time you were gonna call first?"
Jack pulls up a seat. He's fat. He's bald. And he looks like Carl from Aqua Teen Hunger Force.
Yip. That's him. Stained wifebeater, dollar store flip-flops and all. 'Cept he's not holding a giant meatball.
"C'mon raYne, ever since ya left WSE, the people have been chantin' ya name, BEGGIN' for ya return! 'raYne! raYne! raYne!' That's what they chant, ever night!"
"Nobody watches WSE."
"... Well hell, I know that, but IF we had fans, that's what they'd be chantin'!"
"You're drunk again, aren't you Jack?"
raYne drops his head into his folded arms, atop the counter's surface. Club r.D. is a drug-free bar. No alcohol. No ecstasy or cocaine or even tobacco. But what it does have? Is tons of sweets. And I mean TONS, this place is loaded with chocolate, cookies, cake, donuts, pie, candy corn [yes, some people actually like that crap, hard to believe i know] ... As well as a fully-stocked, old school malt saloon. Not to mention Kool-Aid of every flavor imagineable, including root beer. Plus, they have root beer. Actual root beer, not colored water.
raYne speaks, his voice slightly muffled as his face is buried in his arms. "Jack... what the hell are you here for?"
"raYne, I sold WSE."
"You sound over-joyed, yeesh..."
"Not really. But I am hoping you wrap this up so I can go talk to the gal on Skype..."
"Well, raYne. I've got news for ya."
"You sold WSE to the re-animated corpse of Michael Jackson?"
"Nah, I learned my lesson the first time..."
"The sad thing is, that actually happened."
"Naw, I've got some news for ya that will make you pretty damned happy. Believe me."
raYne lifts his head, and stares at Jack, waiting for him to spill it.
"... I'm the new mayor of Somewhere."
It takes a bit for this to sink in... but suddenly, raYne's eyes widen, and his mouth is left agape.
"Y-Y-You're the MAYOR... of Somewhere? As--As... As in..."
"Yes. Somewhere, Nebraska. As in, the home of Hannah."
raYne's eyes become as wide as saucer plates. He smiles. Wider than he has in years.
"... Jack... I think I love ya, man."
"That's right, raYne-y baby, and I'm in talks with the gal...
... I gotta feelin' things are about to change for ya.
For the better."
raYne grins from ear to ear, actually hugging the man he had just wished death upon within the confines of his mind.
raYne releases his grip, before shaking his head, the smile firmly attached to his face. Not even plastic surgery could remove it.
"Jack... have Tony pack my bags.
~ ? ~
'It’s so easy to kill,
This I learned by watching you
If I have to, I will,
It’s not pretty but it’s true
I am through lying still,
just a body to be
Beaten, fucked, and if I’m lucky, left for dead,
'So who's scary now?'
the following blog post was obtained from rayne-bow.cjb.net on the date of Sunday, December 22nd, 2013 @ 4:55pm --
you talk about how nobody fights for anything anymore. mod... you're a womanizer. an alcoholic. and you ARE a hero. a hero to drunks. and a hero to misogynistic bastards. bastards like my father. i can tell you right now... he'd be rooting for you. i... i walked into this company fighting for an entire community. i represented them. but now, i realize... iAm not their hero. they detest me just as oh so many others do. for my attitude. my negativity... i bring them down. so i no longer represent them... i represent her. i fight for her. in her name. so that the world may see in me, what she sees every time she turns on her computer.
i have one fan
watching at home
cheering me on.
that's the only reason i need.
see you in the ring, moddie.
~ ? ~
'No mercy, it’s a bit too late,
The game is on
Don't run, don't hide, don't wait
‘Cause if we’ve got no honor,
Then we’ve got no shame,
If it’s in self-defense,
Then we will take no blame
There is no such thing as justice,
All the best that we can hope for is revenge
A hostile takeover,
An absolute rebellion to the end.
This is our battle cry
I'm giving you a head start, you're going to need it,
'Cause I fight like a girl.
I’ll get my revenge on the world or at least 49% of the people in it
And if I end up with blood on my hands
Well, I know, that you’ll understand,
’Cause I fight like a girl.