Post by "Invincible" Damian Kaine on Jan 8, 2017 4:29:15 GMT -5
“Look at us. We will always win, because we'll always defend each other to the death. You want to know why? Because we have no one else to turn to. The freaks shall inherit the Earth.”
-Jimmy Darling, American Horror Story: Freak Show
-Jimmy Darling, American Horror Story: Freak Show
FPV: “Great job, today, Damian. You’re seriously comin’ along great, I hope you see that. Now go rest up. Today’s been a stressful day for the lot of us.”
DK: “You’re damn right it has.”
And it had. Just that afternoon, one of their own brothers had committed a heinous act of terror. And, even worse, he did this in Bishop’s name.
Damian climbed out of the ring, stepping on the bit of straw that lined the floor of the large, black barn. As he walked through the door and down a little ways to the farmhouse, he reflected on the only interaction he’d ever had with Wes Stevens. Just under a month ago, the day of One.
-December 18, 2016-
Damian was walking through the maze of tables in the CSL Mess Hall, looking to put his plate back in the sink where Gladys would find it. After doing so, he walked toward the exit, winding around the tables and chairs in the way. As soon as he turned the corner, walking the out the door, he ran smack into a man with a beard similar to Bishop’s. The man began to curse, before looking up and catching Damian’s eye. Quickly, he began to apologize.
Damian smiles.
DK: “Man, don’t worry about it. I’m just as much at fault. I’ve taken worse bumps in the ring.”
Wes: “Oh, thank you so much, Mr. Kaine!”
DK: “Hey. Dude, how old are you?”
Wes: “I-- I’m 36.”
DK: “I’m 24. Don’t call me mister. What’s your name, brother? I haven’t see you around before.”
Wes: “I’m Wes. Wes Stevens. I’m a janitor around here.”
Damian’s face is taken back. When did Kevin hire a janitor? WHY did Kevin hire a janitor?
DK: “Uh… Okay. I don’t know why Bishop hired a janitor… Kinda seems a bit too pretentious for us.”
Wes: “Oh, no. I was hired by Mr. Goldstein.”
Damian rolls his eyes. He’d made his disdain for Silver Goldstein evident since the day he first stepped foot into Camp Sunny Lake.
DK: “Now, that makes a hell of a lot more sense. That snake really isn’t one of us.”
Wes: “Well he seemed pretty nice to me. Anyway, it was nice talking to you. Have a nice day.”
And just like that, the new man was off.
-End of Flashback-
How could that guy blow up an entire building?!
It was bizarre. He’d heard of schizophrenia, but that took it all to a whole new level. Not all schizophrenics were like that. Damian wouldn’t kill a soul, unless that soul was corrupted enough.
And that’s the mindset that earned a speech from Bishop today… Damian hadn’t had the chance to elaborate on his words earlier, while watching the news. Never was he defending the man, no. He meant only to say that he could understand why. He knew that, in Wes’s deranged, PTSD mind, doing what he did was the equivalent to Bishop’s wearing a Michigan jersey. All Stevens was trying to do was show support for something he loved.
That said, Damian would never dare to justify the acts of a wayward soul.
He steps onto the porch of the farmhouse, spotting Kidd Krazzy, who appears to be comforting a sobbing Zander Hobbs. He approaches the two, and places a hand on Zander’s shoulder, who proceeds to look up at him.
Zander: “H-h-hey D-d-d-d-d-Damian.”
DK: “Hey, bud. Look, forget about : “Hey, bud. Look, forget about Wes. Here, you to come to my room right quick. There's something I wanna give y'all.”
Damian leads the two young guys through the door and through the hallway, opening the last door on the left. He walks over to a single bed, bending down and reaching underneath. He pulls out a shoebox that reads “Damian’s things” in childlike handwriting.
DK: “I started collecting these when I was, like, 4. I always loved it. And I would play with them too. Won many a match with these babies. But I have no time for them anymore. And I certainly don’t need the money that would come with selling them. So here.”
Damian opens the box to reveal hundreds upon hundreds upon hundreds of Pokémon cards, all contained in dingy plastic packaging. It’s as if Zander forgot all about the Brotherhood Bomber. DK smiles at the look on the faces of his two brothers. Not everything in the world was completely and utterly fucked. It’s a day like this that people need kindness.
DK: “Hey, guys, I want y’all to know something. I’m not a monster. I won’t end up one either. I know what I said about Oblivion. It was a heat of the moment thing. I was just so pissed about what he did to Lilith, on live TV, no less. Then Lilith goes all child-rapey at One. I’d say ‘fuck that bitch’ but I wouldn’t do that even if she wasn’t such a brainless disease ridden gutterslut.”
Kidd: “DK, no such language, please! Gam Gam always said that if you don’t have anything nice to say, you shouldn’t say a thing.”
DK: “I’m sorry bud. I’ll watch my language around you from now on, Okay? Hey, would you mind leaving me be for a bit? I wanna sleep this day off.”
Kidd and Zander both nod, leaving the room. Damian lays down on his bed. He was glad there were no more bunk beds; it eased Damian’s claustrophobia. Though that’s something he’d never admit to Psychopomp. Pomp seriously missed the bunks. But that’s not all that important.
Damian thought about all of his problems. The claustrophobia was among them… Then he came up with a bit longer of a list…
He was asthmatic.
He has slightly impaired hearing.
One too many headshots have caused slight brain damage..
Then there’s the schizophrenia of his. He had gotten better at controlling it, really. Ever since the incident in November, it was necessary. He wondered about other schizos, though. How many of them could control it? He soon forgot about that, as his mind latched onto one of his last words… “Schizo.” Of course, Salem Shepard came to mind, and with that, his match this Sunday. Honestly Damian was kinda sick of Zero Tolerance. Between Jason Cash’s incoherent internet ramblings to Crazy J’s dissociative personality disorder, it seemed that the powerhouse that once was ZT is now fading. After losing the trio’s title, they were thrown off. J managed a win over Kidd at Slam this past Sunday, but not another one of ZT emerged victorious. No, not even their new recruit, Vinnie Jones. That said, he knew they weren’t to be taken lightly. He knew that Bishop, Pomp, and he would have to fight like hell to come out with a win. But he also knew that they would.
Damian sat up on his bed, and looked dead into the fourth wall, with a sly smirk upon his bearded face.
DK: “Y’know, it’s kinda funny. People say that my career has been completely intertwined with Double A. And, well, yeah. That’s completely true. But there’s a similar case, very closely intertangled with mine and Adrian’s past transgressions. Just as there’s an Archer to my Kaine, there’s a Zero Tolerance to every Brotherhood. Down to before I ever joined, I teamed with Bishop and the Baron against ZT. There went my first loss among many. Soon, Adrian went on to join them. They beat me and my brothers for the trios championship. A damn shame, too, that they choose to ignore who really won that match for them. Zero Tolerance has not been a hit in a very long time as a group. That’s why I’m glad #beachkrew came in and eliminated the only thing keeping them a team. Because they surely aren’t working together. That’s the difference between ZT and the Brotherhood. We embody the word ‘Unity.’ With J keeping his belt while Shep and Cash lost theirs? That’s fucking ridiculous. There’s no way that, between Shep and Cash’s egos, they would let that slide without toil. And that’s where the first vein pops. Then it’s over. Enter Vinnie Jones, who is practically a Coast Guard officer trying to fave the sinking Titanic. I think it’s just time to face the facts, ZT. You may win the battles, but family will win the war. Because, do you know what that family bond does? Do you know who we are, because of it?
“We’re the Juggernauts, Bitch.”
-Fade Out-