Post by meteoricrise on Jul 3, 2016 16:52:57 GMT -5
The sound of grinding brake pads against metal rolling discs fills the night air. A train comes to a rest amongst the hustle and bustle of inner city crowds. The doors open with a wrenching sound as two figures make their way off board. The larger figure makes his way through the human bee hive in an attempt to get free, he is not fond of crowds. The smaller figure keeps pace, moving with excited haste as they bolt up a large set of stairs to city street level. The street signs say we are at the intersection of Mulberry and Edison st. In Newark, New Jersey. The pair make their way to a natural hill overlooking the Prudential center a block away. The honking of car horns and clicking of feet on the streets below provides backdrop for the neon sign out front highlighting the WCF event taking place within. The larger figure sits on the soft grass running his hands through the blades of green. The boy, pulsing with energy walks in nervous circles around his larger counterpart with wide eyes.
Abstract: we are here. (Clapping his hands with anticipation) what are you sitting for dad? All these miles and the finish line is right in front of us. We can see it. It's tangible, it has a shape.
Meteoric rise: (letting out a deep breath as he glances up from the ground at his son) finish line? Is that what you see? (Subtle fake laugh) I see a herd of people being corralled into a pen. Being led to some fate determined by a third party. I see a large number of people, of their own free will and volition, being fed a series of events they have no control over. It's quite sad in all reality.
Abstract: You said they were the cause and we are the effect. They are the reason for why we are what we are. Without the slave, there can be no liberator. Without a disease there can be no cure. They are right there, right now. Let's go do something liberaty... or something. I'm talking bout' going straight into Miley Cyrus mode... let's go in like a wrecking ball!
Meteoric rise: (blank stare) Did you just attempt to use Miley Cyrus in a metaphor regarding physical warfare? That is... frowned upon. You need to learn something about this world son. The element of surprise is an advantage, but attacking on any terms other than your own is grounds for defeat. The works of art that have stood the test of time, the pieces that have transcended time and generations. They were not done overnight. They were thought provoking and they left their beholder pondering more than just a combination of colors on canvas. Like these pieces, our body of work here will be well thought out, well prepared, well executed. And will emphasise a vast spectrum of red.
Abstract: Yeah, I get it. Art of war, know thine enemy. Know thine self. Win a thousand battles. We are on a whole, the devil went down to Georgia kick right now. But can we please, please, please, pretty please go beat someone up in public now? I want the lights, the pyro, the people, the energy. (Hopping around shadowboxing with anxiousness) I want to bring down the walls tonight. Do you hear the rumble? That's not thunder. That's thousands upon thousands of people rocking an arena to its core. I bet it's he main event right now. Let's get in there and make a Jackson Pollock painting with someone's blood.
Meteoric rise: (shaking his head in frustration) Not this night. We are in New Jersey. You don't unveil a priceless work of art in a ghetto. you don't uncork vintage wine in a third world water hole. I'll not let the history books write that what we created, what we attained, what we manifested, began in a cesspool of the uncultured. Let them have these fleeting moments son. Let them embrace one another in blissful ignorance to our presence. Tomorrow they may not be so fortunate. For the moment, we will watch from the near distance. We will spectate. We will learn what they love, what they disdain. We will learn what gives them strength and what makes them weak. None of them will have safe harbor in the coming days. Our arrival is nothing short of an extinction level event.
The scene fades into a panoramic view of the two, watching the lights below. Shadows of the young boy dancing in circles around his father flicker in the grass.
Abstract: we are here. (Clapping his hands with anticipation) what are you sitting for dad? All these miles and the finish line is right in front of us. We can see it. It's tangible, it has a shape.
Meteoric rise: (letting out a deep breath as he glances up from the ground at his son) finish line? Is that what you see? (Subtle fake laugh) I see a herd of people being corralled into a pen. Being led to some fate determined by a third party. I see a large number of people, of their own free will and volition, being fed a series of events they have no control over. It's quite sad in all reality.
Abstract: You said they were the cause and we are the effect. They are the reason for why we are what we are. Without the slave, there can be no liberator. Without a disease there can be no cure. They are right there, right now. Let's go do something liberaty... or something. I'm talking bout' going straight into Miley Cyrus mode... let's go in like a wrecking ball!
Meteoric rise: (blank stare) Did you just attempt to use Miley Cyrus in a metaphor regarding physical warfare? That is... frowned upon. You need to learn something about this world son. The element of surprise is an advantage, but attacking on any terms other than your own is grounds for defeat. The works of art that have stood the test of time, the pieces that have transcended time and generations. They were not done overnight. They were thought provoking and they left their beholder pondering more than just a combination of colors on canvas. Like these pieces, our body of work here will be well thought out, well prepared, well executed. And will emphasise a vast spectrum of red.
Abstract: Yeah, I get it. Art of war, know thine enemy. Know thine self. Win a thousand battles. We are on a whole, the devil went down to Georgia kick right now. But can we please, please, please, pretty please go beat someone up in public now? I want the lights, the pyro, the people, the energy. (Hopping around shadowboxing with anxiousness) I want to bring down the walls tonight. Do you hear the rumble? That's not thunder. That's thousands upon thousands of people rocking an arena to its core. I bet it's he main event right now. Let's get in there and make a Jackson Pollock painting with someone's blood.
Meteoric rise: (shaking his head in frustration) Not this night. We are in New Jersey. You don't unveil a priceless work of art in a ghetto. you don't uncork vintage wine in a third world water hole. I'll not let the history books write that what we created, what we attained, what we manifested, began in a cesspool of the uncultured. Let them have these fleeting moments son. Let them embrace one another in blissful ignorance to our presence. Tomorrow they may not be so fortunate. For the moment, we will watch from the near distance. We will spectate. We will learn what they love, what they disdain. We will learn what gives them strength and what makes them weak. None of them will have safe harbor in the coming days. Our arrival is nothing short of an extinction level event.
The scene fades into a panoramic view of the two, watching the lights below. Shadows of the young boy dancing in circles around his father flicker in the grass.