Post by Dex on Aug 1, 2015 12:56:15 GMT -5
Otherworld
A Grayson Cain Roleplay
---
U-Haul Moving & Storage Center
Raleigh, North Carolina
The first thing, and the only thing, that I assure to those under my seize is that Grayson Cain, is, and will never be a ‘good-guy.’ He is, if anything, a guy far beneath the line of recovery; there is no return for what he has morphed himself into. I take quite wondrous joy in what I do, both in the public and private sectors of my life. What people can’t quite comprehend, is that pain is a universal sentiment; a necessity not only for the personal exploitation for damaged things like me, but for psychological growth and exploration. To people who I truly trust, I quote the only example necessary; Christ only deterred away his doubters through his own personal sacrifice, pain. Without suffrage, there is no joy; we cannot live in a world without contrast. I just happen to be the darkest shade available.
“Don’t you ever feel any god damn sympathy!” The man speaks out, opposite to Grayson. His eyes blindfolded tightly, sitting along the gray concrete like walls. While his screams are near deafening while indoors, the depth of the walls and the contents within the small storage center make it so his cries are silent to the outside ear.
“Do I feel sympathy?” Grayson jokingly ponders.
“You obviously don’t you f*cking psycho-f*ck! Let me the f*ck out!”
“I really find it quite odd how I’m the psycho in this scenario. If anything, I’m just an accomplice for something that should have been concluded long ago.”
“Let me f*cking out!”
“Well, you and I both know; that if I let you out I’d have to go to great lengths to protect me; when the only one who should be watching beyond their own back, is you. Personally, I don’t consider myself a fan of change. Though, you...you on the other hand initiate a great wave of change with every breath you take.”
“If you’re going tokillme do it now!” He shouts again, repeatedly, his words spoken so fast they slur.
“You have to step into my shoes. If I laid the ultimatum here and now, what would you really learn? I want to see you squirm, to see you embellish in your own pain, the pain that you continue to dish out to helpless people.”
“Just pull the f*cking trigger!”
“There is no gun. There is no easy way out. No heaven, no hell, will be able to save you from your past and the things that you’ve committed; I hope you know that; Alex.”
The man, Alex, remains silent.
“I’ve never killed a person, intentionally. And yet every misstep I make is permanently ingrained within my mind; I can’t sleep because of what I’ve done. I tell myself that all of these things can somehow be corrected within the inner workings of the universe; a good deed offers somehow transpires a good result. But I’m not here for that. I’m here because you’ve killed three within the past week. Three that I’ve all known, three that are beyond a number to me.” Grayson slowly murmurs, his intensity is outspoken, as the clenching of his own teeth properly demonstrates.
“And what do you plan on doing about what I’ve done, you’re not going to kill me!”
“I’ve already planned it all, and yet, I’m entirely lost.”
“Who the f*ck are you?!?” He shouts loudly, his voice reverberating throughout the enclosed doors of the storage facility. The sweat continues to drip from the slightly curved crevices along his forehead, just above the linen blindfold.
“Explaining anything about myself, is the equivalent of teaching rocket science to a squirrel; it just can’t be done.”
“If you let me go, I promise, I’ll stop all of this crap! I f*cking promise man! I know it, I know that you’re like me!” Alex shouts, as if he had come to the realization that Grayson was on the verge of inflicting punishment. Grayson quickly quiets him, by stiffening his mouth with grey duct tape.
“I believe that I’ve heard enough Alex. You’re fifty three, you’ve been killing since the age of eighteen.”
He pauses, only to continue again.
“I wont deny, that we come from similar branches, we both have done things that we clearly regret. You’re not like me though, you don’t lie awake and observe the things you’ve done wrong; you forget. You forget about all of the things you’ve done, and seek nothing more than mindless euphoria through killing. We’re not the same, I never killed for me; I killed to protect the things and the people I cherished. But me, well, I’m beyond good and evil.”
This will all be concluded in good time; the time just isn’t right. Alex will pay for what he has done, to others; and mostly, myself. He’s but a pawn in the presence of kings; a killer with no thought; with no cunning mentality to evade and survive. He’s been on the run the entirety of his life, from the police; but mostly himself. I needed a pawn, someone willing to betray the organizations he associates with, in order to survive. I was close; closer than ever to finding the man that murdered my adopted father. Alex is fighting for his life; and I’m the same, fighting for a life that’s been lost. Even the slightest bit of hope is enough for a judged man. Maybe I’m the same.
A Grayson Cain Roleplay
---
U-Haul Moving & Storage Center
Raleigh, North Carolina
The first thing, and the only thing, that I assure to those under my seize is that Grayson Cain, is, and will never be a ‘good-guy.’ He is, if anything, a guy far beneath the line of recovery; there is no return for what he has morphed himself into. I take quite wondrous joy in what I do, both in the public and private sectors of my life. What people can’t quite comprehend, is that pain is a universal sentiment; a necessity not only for the personal exploitation for damaged things like me, but for psychological growth and exploration. To people who I truly trust, I quote the only example necessary; Christ only deterred away his doubters through his own personal sacrifice, pain. Without suffrage, there is no joy; we cannot live in a world without contrast. I just happen to be the darkest shade available.
“Don’t you ever feel any god damn sympathy!” The man speaks out, opposite to Grayson. His eyes blindfolded tightly, sitting along the gray concrete like walls. While his screams are near deafening while indoors, the depth of the walls and the contents within the small storage center make it so his cries are silent to the outside ear.
“Do I feel sympathy?” Grayson jokingly ponders.
“You obviously don’t you f*cking psycho-f*ck! Let me the f*ck out!”
“I really find it quite odd how I’m the psycho in this scenario. If anything, I’m just an accomplice for something that should have been concluded long ago.”
“Let me f*cking out!”
“Well, you and I both know; that if I let you out I’d have to go to great lengths to protect me; when the only one who should be watching beyond their own back, is you. Personally, I don’t consider myself a fan of change. Though, you...you on the other hand initiate a great wave of change with every breath you take.”
“If you’re going tokillme do it now!” He shouts again, repeatedly, his words spoken so fast they slur.
“You have to step into my shoes. If I laid the ultimatum here and now, what would you really learn? I want to see you squirm, to see you embellish in your own pain, the pain that you continue to dish out to helpless people.”
“Just pull the f*cking trigger!”
“There is no gun. There is no easy way out. No heaven, no hell, will be able to save you from your past and the things that you’ve committed; I hope you know that; Alex.”
The man, Alex, remains silent.
“I’ve never killed a person, intentionally. And yet every misstep I make is permanently ingrained within my mind; I can’t sleep because of what I’ve done. I tell myself that all of these things can somehow be corrected within the inner workings of the universe; a good deed offers somehow transpires a good result. But I’m not here for that. I’m here because you’ve killed three within the past week. Three that I’ve all known, three that are beyond a number to me.” Grayson slowly murmurs, his intensity is outspoken, as the clenching of his own teeth properly demonstrates.
“And what do you plan on doing about what I’ve done, you’re not going to kill me!”
“I’ve already planned it all, and yet, I’m entirely lost.”
“Who the f*ck are you?!?” He shouts loudly, his voice reverberating throughout the enclosed doors of the storage facility. The sweat continues to drip from the slightly curved crevices along his forehead, just above the linen blindfold.
“Explaining anything about myself, is the equivalent of teaching rocket science to a squirrel; it just can’t be done.”
“If you let me go, I promise, I’ll stop all of this crap! I f*cking promise man! I know it, I know that you’re like me!” Alex shouts, as if he had come to the realization that Grayson was on the verge of inflicting punishment. Grayson quickly quiets him, by stiffening his mouth with grey duct tape.
“I believe that I’ve heard enough Alex. You’re fifty three, you’ve been killing since the age of eighteen.”
He pauses, only to continue again.
“I wont deny, that we come from similar branches, we both have done things that we clearly regret. You’re not like me though, you don’t lie awake and observe the things you’ve done wrong; you forget. You forget about all of the things you’ve done, and seek nothing more than mindless euphoria through killing. We’re not the same, I never killed for me; I killed to protect the things and the people I cherished. But me, well, I’m beyond good and evil.”
This will all be concluded in good time; the time just isn’t right. Alex will pay for what he has done, to others; and mostly, myself. He’s but a pawn in the presence of kings; a killer with no thought; with no cunning mentality to evade and survive. He’s been on the run the entirety of his life, from the police; but mostly himself. I needed a pawn, someone willing to betray the organizations he associates with, in order to survive. I was close; closer than ever to finding the man that murdered my adopted father. Alex is fighting for his life; and I’m the same, fighting for a life that’s been lost. Even the slightest bit of hope is enough for a judged man. Maybe I’m the same.
---
---
Sweet Dreams II.
I lie awake at night. Awaken from the same dream that plagued me from previous nights; it comes and it goes, ever so eloquently. While it’s feverish allure is frightening to some, it is as beautiful as anything can be, my truest epiphany. In it, there is always a distinct differentiation in the rendition performed, a difference entirely insignificant to the untrained eye; but in reality; it’s all too the same.
What is the difference between a martyr and a hero? The martyr seeks to find what he has always known to be true; he seeks glory, through his final master stroke; his own death. In the same vein, I consider myself to be a martyr; my intent has always followed a strict plan, and in it includes the quite calming procedure of my own demise. A hero, is someone who is placed in a situation, and chooses to do the right thing; rather than intently planning. I’ve come to terms that I’m not that guy.
Lately, I’ve started to come to terms, with what I am, and what I’ve become. I tell myself, and the people around me that I’m no different than anyone else; but that is the furthest thing from the truth. I’m the monster that every hero seeks to slay; the beast whose presence is known, but never can be confirmed. I’m not a good guy.
Since I joined the WFWF, things haven’t been the same. My relationship with my wife has gotten slightly more strenuous; and it’s clear that my body, while euphoric in the ring; is something that simply isn’t renewable, and with each passing punch; it’s almost as if I can hear my time slipping away. When does a hero know when to quit?
Gold. That’s what I have the potential to earn within the company, and to get there, I need to face off against other men with the same intent. They’re all just as hungry and ravaged as I am. But the question remains; can they really contain me? With gold within my grasp, there is no doubt in my mind that Grayson will become the National Champion. Greed, glitz, and galore, are the only things that have ever mattered to me.
Besides my father.
Am I really as bad as they think I am?
I lie awake at night. Awaken from the same dream that plagued me from previous nights; it comes and it goes, ever so eloquently. While it’s feverish allure is frightening to some, it is as beautiful as anything can be, my truest epiphany. In it, there is always a distinct differentiation in the rendition performed, a difference entirely insignificant to the untrained eye; but in reality; it’s all too the same.
What is the difference between a martyr and a hero? The martyr seeks to find what he has always known to be true; he seeks glory, through his final master stroke; his own death. In the same vein, I consider myself to be a martyr; my intent has always followed a strict plan, and in it includes the quite calming procedure of my own demise. A hero, is someone who is placed in a situation, and chooses to do the right thing; rather than intently planning. I’ve come to terms that I’m not that guy.
Lately, I’ve started to come to terms, with what I am, and what I’ve become. I tell myself, and the people around me that I’m no different than anyone else; but that is the furthest thing from the truth. I’m the monster that every hero seeks to slay; the beast whose presence is known, but never can be confirmed. I’m not a good guy.
Since I joined the WFWF, things haven’t been the same. My relationship with my wife has gotten slightly more strenuous; and it’s clear that my body, while euphoric in the ring; is something that simply isn’t renewable, and with each passing punch; it’s almost as if I can hear my time slipping away. When does a hero know when to quit?
Gold. That’s what I have the potential to earn within the company, and to get there, I need to face off against other men with the same intent. They’re all just as hungry and ravaged as I am. But the question remains; can they really contain me? With gold within my grasp, there is no doubt in my mind that Grayson will become the National Champion. Greed, glitz, and galore, are the only things that have ever mattered to me.
Besides my father.
Am I really as bad as they think I am?
---
Alcoholics Anonymous
Raleigh, North Carolina
It’s hard to think about things as they happen; you say a word or two to avoid a situation at any given moment; not knowing, nor caring about the repercussions that will come from it. Every issue I face is somehow stemmed from my own personal missteps, it’s as if everything and anything; will come back to be used against you. Everything that can go wrong, seems to always end up going wrong. While a close knit circle of recovering addicts, may seem like the opportunity for some sort of moral cleansing; leaving yourself to so open and exposed, was the closest thing to hell.
“I’m an addict. I’m not proud of it but it’s who I am. Alcohol has always played an important role in my life. I’ve done many things under the influence that I regret. Alcohol, it just, completely changes you. You know?” The man sitting directly beside Grayson, offers up his shortened revelation; his head steadily shaking horizontally as he speaks.
“You can continue Christopher. We’re all gathered here because we all have skeletons in our closets, we all have things that we don’t want to admit. But here, this is the place to do it, don’t be afraid.”
I’ve always detested to the ideal of self revelation. Exposing yourself is the greatest sin a man like me can commit; and yet, people continue to seek refuge through religion and the moral agreement of other sinners. And yet I still ask myself, what do people find in the ‘truth,’ that couldn’t be garnered from a well catered lie?
“My wife and I..We’ve..We had been married for eleven years, but this past year, she left me because of my habits... I promised her that I would.. and that I will change..but change didn’t happen until I was drunk one night, we got into an argument..Something stupid..I can’t remember but, something she said, struck a chord in me...I couldn’t take it anymore, I lost it, I swung, and I hit her...I didn’t mean it in anyway...She left after that, I wish I could get her to come back...It was all the devils will, alcohol.” The man struggles to complete his speech, while speaking he attempts to erode away the influx of arising tears, but fails, as the tears begin to circle around his left cheek.
“Thank you for sharing Christopher, I’m sure that the others in the group share the same sentiment. I know that you’re going through a difficult period in your life, but I’d just like you to know that you’re on the right path, and when you open up to god, anything, and everything can and will happen.” The man, Christopher, shreds away the tears by utilizing the sleeves of his fleece jacket; as the instructor looks towards Grayson, awaiting his confession. The two firmly lock eyes, but the instructor is met with no clear avail.
These people have, and will always be awfully pathetic in my eyes. Me, I’ve always had the same sentiment, life and political position, is all about control. These people all struggle to maintain control and stability within their own lives; what are they but detriments to a knowledge based society? They are all mentally weak, easily exposed and able to be continuously morphed into anything, someone like me wants them to be.
“Grayson, is it? I know that this is an experience that everyone struggles with, but as we say here, admittance is the first step towards recovery. So with that in mind, do you care to share?”
"There isn't much to know."
"We all have something valuable to add, no matter how insignificant they may seem."
“I was put up to this, because my wife thought that I had been drinking a few nights ago. The interesting thing about this whole situation is, that, I don’t drink.”
“You don’t drink?”
“Correct.”
"Never once in your life?"
"I'm quite sure we've all had a drink or two. Falling into temptation, is just human nature. I'm just not an avid drinker; I wasn't even drunk that night."
"What is it that caught your wife's attention, if you mind sharing?"
"Stress. I had a bad dream that night, something that happened when I was a child; it was before I was employed, I was debating whether or not to sign the contract offered or not."
"From the tiniest details or so, I find you very intriguing Grayson. While you think that you're different, I disagree, I feel that a lot of us may relate, past and future are arguably the biggest reasons why people take up alcohol abuse, fear."
"I don't think I share any traits with any of these people."
“And yet you still could have just as easily lied to get out of this situation. You’re here because there is something that you need to release, to get off your chest for you to finally feel free; this is your safe haven Grayson, there is no judging here; this is all about you.”
"Well, my name is Grayson Cain, I admit that I'm not the best person around; but I have a life that most people would dream to have."
"And yet, you don't, do you?"
"It's hard for me to pinpoint what I like and what I don't. You can say that I'm the type of person who's not entirely in tune with his 'emotions.'"
"What do you do for a living, if you don't mind sharing?"
“I wrestle for a living, I work for the world’s biggest wrestling promotion, I make a salary that all of you would drool to have. You can say that I hurt people for a living, some people are put off by it; but for me, it’s almost freeing.”
“How exactly is it freeing?’
“I thought I did this all for money, I feel like originally, everything I even contemplate doing is driven by my own personal greed. It's a want that will never end. But, for the first time in a long while, stepping in the ring on the biggest stage in the world, my soul just felt revitalized. It was like all the emptiness I had before just went away somehow. It felt as if I was living; for the few moments that I was out there, I almost began to realize that I was out there, not just for me.”
“So you’ve learned to enjoy wrestling? Feel free to elaborate on the ‘emptiness.”
“You can say that, and I wouldn’t entirely disagree with it; but I’m not sure how I feel. The 'emptiness,' is a bit of an exaggeration. I just feel shallow, all the time; everything I do is for me.”
“A lot of us are like that.” The instructor calmly states, shaking his head in agreement.
“I feel like I'm too far down the spectrum. I do things, I say things; that most people wouldn't dare to do. I've always fought to get where I am. And because of that, I don’t associate myself with people who don’t help me in anyway.”
"Your work ethic must be something to be marveled. You work hard, and seem to seek out people who do the same. While some may argue the ethics and morality of it all, I'm not sure if what you do is as entirely bad as you may feel."
It's a shame that he'll never know the real me. I know that I'm a bad person, it's almost something that I've already come to terms with.
Grayson pauses, only to continue.
“I married my wife because of the way she looks; there has never has never been anything more between the two of us; despite what I tell her.”
"Do you have any feelings for your wife, besides sexual interaction?"
"She's almost a carbon copy of me, in a sense. I struggle to find any kind of differentiation. Do you ever look at yourself in the mirror, realizing you don't look the same as yesterday; but you know that you're the same exact person? That's how I feel when it comes to her."
My wife doesn’t know anything beyond what I’ve told and presented her, I’m just an average kid from the coast, who joined the military. And yet I often wonder if I’ve already told her too much, I feel as if I’ve already given her the pieces of an interconnecting puzzle; and all she’s missing is the act of putting them together. It's almost inevitable at this point, how long can an outlaw survive before being outed?
"Your relationship must be hard, to manage, along with your career."
"It really, really, is." Grayson replies with a hint of sarcasm.
I hate these types of things, all so cliche, I can’t help but fear the inevitable never ending barrage of questions. I’d answer them all to the best of my ability, without giving them too much. People can never be trusted, no matter how close. There will always be someone willing to betray you, willing to do whatever they can to get above you. I’ll probably be called cynical in the process; but it’s nothing I haven’t already heard before. In a way, I kind of enjoyed my visit, I can’t really describe the feeling I received as I began to speak; for lack of a better term, a weight was lifted; a weight that I had ignored for far too long. But I know that these things are all temporary; deep down inside I know that what I feel like now, won't transpire into the next day, let alone the next hour. Perhaps I said too much.
“I can tell that this is probably the first time you’ve said all of this out loud. We all have issues like this, we’re all in someway driven by greed, whether we’d like to admit it or not. Thank you Grayson, for opening up to us all.”
“You’re welcome.” Grayson sarcastically states, with a slight grin along his face.
“I usually don’t give advice, besides urging people to step away from alcohol, and removing away the temptation. But, I think that you, in particular; should focus on these new bridges that you’ve recently paved for yourself. While things start out one way, they may finish in another. You’re happy when working, most people dream about uttering that phrase. Focus on the little things, the things that give you joy no matter how small they may be.”
While my trip to Alcoholics Anonymous was a forced hand, issued by my wife; for the first time, while engulfed in a sea of misfits and addicts, I felt normal. Normal is a double edged sword, it’s good or bad depending on who and what you perceive yourself to be; to me, it was almost refreshing for your existence to be demeaned in the matter of minutes. It’s not often that I’d admit that kind of thing. But maybe I’ve ignored the little things for far too long.
"I always wanted to be the outlaw. And that's to a certain extent how I've lived."
---
Raleigh, North Carolina
It’s hard to think about things as they happen; you say a word or two to avoid a situation at any given moment; not knowing, nor caring about the repercussions that will come from it. Every issue I face is somehow stemmed from my own personal missteps, it’s as if everything and anything; will come back to be used against you. Everything that can go wrong, seems to always end up going wrong. While a close knit circle of recovering addicts, may seem like the opportunity for some sort of moral cleansing; leaving yourself to so open and exposed, was the closest thing to hell.
“I’m an addict. I’m not proud of it but it’s who I am. Alcohol has always played an important role in my life. I’ve done many things under the influence that I regret. Alcohol, it just, completely changes you. You know?” The man sitting directly beside Grayson, offers up his shortened revelation; his head steadily shaking horizontally as he speaks.
“You can continue Christopher. We’re all gathered here because we all have skeletons in our closets, we all have things that we don’t want to admit. But here, this is the place to do it, don’t be afraid.”
I’ve always detested to the ideal of self revelation. Exposing yourself is the greatest sin a man like me can commit; and yet, people continue to seek refuge through religion and the moral agreement of other sinners. And yet I still ask myself, what do people find in the ‘truth,’ that couldn’t be garnered from a well catered lie?
“My wife and I..We’ve..We had been married for eleven years, but this past year, she left me because of my habits... I promised her that I would.. and that I will change..but change didn’t happen until I was drunk one night, we got into an argument..Something stupid..I can’t remember but, something she said, struck a chord in me...I couldn’t take it anymore, I lost it, I swung, and I hit her...I didn’t mean it in anyway...She left after that, I wish I could get her to come back...It was all the devils will, alcohol.” The man struggles to complete his speech, while speaking he attempts to erode away the influx of arising tears, but fails, as the tears begin to circle around his left cheek.
“Thank you for sharing Christopher, I’m sure that the others in the group share the same sentiment. I know that you’re going through a difficult period in your life, but I’d just like you to know that you’re on the right path, and when you open up to god, anything, and everything can and will happen.” The man, Christopher, shreds away the tears by utilizing the sleeves of his fleece jacket; as the instructor looks towards Grayson, awaiting his confession. The two firmly lock eyes, but the instructor is met with no clear avail.
These people have, and will always be awfully pathetic in my eyes. Me, I’ve always had the same sentiment, life and political position, is all about control. These people all struggle to maintain control and stability within their own lives; what are they but detriments to a knowledge based society? They are all mentally weak, easily exposed and able to be continuously morphed into anything, someone like me wants them to be.
“Grayson, is it? I know that this is an experience that everyone struggles with, but as we say here, admittance is the first step towards recovery. So with that in mind, do you care to share?”
"There isn't much to know."
"We all have something valuable to add, no matter how insignificant they may seem."
“I was put up to this, because my wife thought that I had been drinking a few nights ago. The interesting thing about this whole situation is, that, I don’t drink.”
“You don’t drink?”
“Correct.”
"Never once in your life?"
"I'm quite sure we've all had a drink or two. Falling into temptation, is just human nature. I'm just not an avid drinker; I wasn't even drunk that night."
"What is it that caught your wife's attention, if you mind sharing?"
"Stress. I had a bad dream that night, something that happened when I was a child; it was before I was employed, I was debating whether or not to sign the contract offered or not."
"From the tiniest details or so, I find you very intriguing Grayson. While you think that you're different, I disagree, I feel that a lot of us may relate, past and future are arguably the biggest reasons why people take up alcohol abuse, fear."
"I don't think I share any traits with any of these people."
“And yet you still could have just as easily lied to get out of this situation. You’re here because there is something that you need to release, to get off your chest for you to finally feel free; this is your safe haven Grayson, there is no judging here; this is all about you.”
"Well, my name is Grayson Cain, I admit that I'm not the best person around; but I have a life that most people would dream to have."
"And yet, you don't, do you?"
"It's hard for me to pinpoint what I like and what I don't. You can say that I'm the type of person who's not entirely in tune with his 'emotions.'"
"What do you do for a living, if you don't mind sharing?"
“I wrestle for a living, I work for the world’s biggest wrestling promotion, I make a salary that all of you would drool to have. You can say that I hurt people for a living, some people are put off by it; but for me, it’s almost freeing.”
“How exactly is it freeing?’
“I thought I did this all for money, I feel like originally, everything I even contemplate doing is driven by my own personal greed. It's a want that will never end. But, for the first time in a long while, stepping in the ring on the biggest stage in the world, my soul just felt revitalized. It was like all the emptiness I had before just went away somehow. It felt as if I was living; for the few moments that I was out there, I almost began to realize that I was out there, not just for me.”
“So you’ve learned to enjoy wrestling? Feel free to elaborate on the ‘emptiness.”
“You can say that, and I wouldn’t entirely disagree with it; but I’m not sure how I feel. The 'emptiness,' is a bit of an exaggeration. I just feel shallow, all the time; everything I do is for me.”
“A lot of us are like that.” The instructor calmly states, shaking his head in agreement.
“I feel like I'm too far down the spectrum. I do things, I say things; that most people wouldn't dare to do. I've always fought to get where I am. And because of that, I don’t associate myself with people who don’t help me in anyway.”
"Your work ethic must be something to be marveled. You work hard, and seem to seek out people who do the same. While some may argue the ethics and morality of it all, I'm not sure if what you do is as entirely bad as you may feel."
It's a shame that he'll never know the real me. I know that I'm a bad person, it's almost something that I've already come to terms with.
Grayson pauses, only to continue.
“I married my wife because of the way she looks; there has never has never been anything more between the two of us; despite what I tell her.”
"Do you have any feelings for your wife, besides sexual interaction?"
"She's almost a carbon copy of me, in a sense. I struggle to find any kind of differentiation. Do you ever look at yourself in the mirror, realizing you don't look the same as yesterday; but you know that you're the same exact person? That's how I feel when it comes to her."
My wife doesn’t know anything beyond what I’ve told and presented her, I’m just an average kid from the coast, who joined the military. And yet I often wonder if I’ve already told her too much, I feel as if I’ve already given her the pieces of an interconnecting puzzle; and all she’s missing is the act of putting them together. It's almost inevitable at this point, how long can an outlaw survive before being outed?
"Your relationship must be hard, to manage, along with your career."
"It really, really, is." Grayson replies with a hint of sarcasm.
I hate these types of things, all so cliche, I can’t help but fear the inevitable never ending barrage of questions. I’d answer them all to the best of my ability, without giving them too much. People can never be trusted, no matter how close. There will always be someone willing to betray you, willing to do whatever they can to get above you. I’ll probably be called cynical in the process; but it’s nothing I haven’t already heard before. In a way, I kind of enjoyed my visit, I can’t really describe the feeling I received as I began to speak; for lack of a better term, a weight was lifted; a weight that I had ignored for far too long. But I know that these things are all temporary; deep down inside I know that what I feel like now, won't transpire into the next day, let alone the next hour. Perhaps I said too much.
“I can tell that this is probably the first time you’ve said all of this out loud. We all have issues like this, we’re all in someway driven by greed, whether we’d like to admit it or not. Thank you Grayson, for opening up to us all.”
“You’re welcome.” Grayson sarcastically states, with a slight grin along his face.
“I usually don’t give advice, besides urging people to step away from alcohol, and removing away the temptation. But, I think that you, in particular; should focus on these new bridges that you’ve recently paved for yourself. While things start out one way, they may finish in another. You’re happy when working, most people dream about uttering that phrase. Focus on the little things, the things that give you joy no matter how small they may be.”
While my trip to Alcoholics Anonymous was a forced hand, issued by my wife; for the first time, while engulfed in a sea of misfits and addicts, I felt normal. Normal is a double edged sword, it’s good or bad depending on who and what you perceive yourself to be; to me, it was almost refreshing for your existence to be demeaned in the matter of minutes. It’s not often that I’d admit that kind of thing. But maybe I’ve ignored the little things for far too long.
"I always wanted to be the outlaw. And that's to a certain extent how I've lived."
---
Legacy, is what I’ve sought my entire life; legacy is attained through understanding, suffrage, and dedication to a cause. It is what you are remembered by, and what you leave behind. A common saying within our society is that ‘history is always written by the victors,’ and in that regard, the WFWF is derived from the same beast. People never remember those that have failed and have been cast aside by the cruelty of fate itself; they only seek to emulate the glory that certain individuals have, they’ll only remember; Drakz, EBR, and Phillip Schneider.
I have an opportunity to solidify my presence, to redeem my forsaken name that has plagued me for far too long. My victory at the last event, meant nothing to me; in reality, it was a pissing contest, with no real significance; considering I’m yet again facing Joe Magnet, and Dr. Manson. Men who I’ve easily defeated, and I will willingly do so again. Joe Magnet doesn't belong in the WFWF. He's immature, weak and frail; he holds the consciousness of everyone in the audience; he's a spectator living his dream. He will never be a real wrestler. Dr. Manson is mentally unstable; but is too drunk and high to even understand his own capabilities. I wouldn't be surprised if he collapsed before even arriving to the arena. These two men are both detriments to wrestling.
Masahiko Ishamura. One of my competitors, who is personally from Japan; making his WFWF professional debut. I’ve often debated whether or not you’re worth the space in my consciousness; to me, you are the epitome of forgotten; considering even I am forgetting somewhat significant details about you. From what I’ve heard from ‘fellow co-workers’ you primarily wrestle for the JPF; wherever and whatever that means; and are here to resonate with the Japanese audience. I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, but whatever prowess you demonstrated in that company, and whatever accomplishments that you claim you’ve won; are mere paper weights when facing men with real professional experience. You’ll learn the hard, and most difficult way imaginable, that what I say is truth; following this event, I doubt even your greatest Japanese followers will recall anything about you.
Lucas Crowe, you are my perfect storm. Everything about you is entirely interesting, from your troubled past in the slums, to your massive stature, and perfectly aligned black wife beater; can you detect my sarcasm in this situation? You are nothing that I haven’t already seen, nothing that I haven’t already beaten, demolished, and devoured. ‘The Motor City Mercenary?’ You struggle to keep your belly within your own shirt; ‘fat jokes’ are in bad taste, I know; but 310 pounds? You would think that with your height it would somehow even out; but trust me, it doesn’t. But I have to give you some appraisal just like me, you’re one of the few in this match that has met success within this company. You defeated Phoenix Nitro, and I applaud you on your victory. Facing off against someone like me, is something I know for a fact you’ve never experienced. I’m the tactician to your mindless brawling technique; I’m something that you’ll never be able to forget.
Phoenix Nitro; you’re from the streets, and had to fend for yourself. That may or may not remind you of someone that I’ve already spoken about; but, yes, like Lucas Crowe; you’ve had a difficult upbringing, and somehow that makes you ‘athletically superior’ to everyone else. You also have experience in Japan; but as you may have noticed following your match against Crowe; that means nothing in a professional ring. ‘Broke Strong Style,’ is your phrase; or rather your lifestyle, considering you shout it at any given moment. I consider myself quite intellectual; but even I can’t deduct what this entirely means. How can something be broke, yet strong at the same time? Isn’t that an oxymoron? No moronic catchphrase is going to make anyone remember you, no matter how hard you may try.
Shapiro. You and I have never faced, and it’s commonly understood that you have the most experience in this match. But sadly, after watching your matches; I notice the same thing time after time. It just so happens to be; that you’re always lying on your back in defeat. It happens to the best of us; but sadly I can’t recall the last time you won; has it happened yet? Despite your clear inability to wrestle; I respect you. You preach a positive non-violent message, and seek to be the hero that you never had as a child. And yet, you are still clearly driven by your own personal greed; continuing to compete and cause pain; when you demean it as if it was nothing to you. Sadly, to me, everything about you seems fake; to the point where you have become so incoherent to the point where everyone has just stopped paying any attention to what you do in the ring. You’re a hypocrite Shapiro. Why not simply leave the WFWF, and go be a peace advocate for Unicef? You’ve already got the outlandish bandanna, and the scraggly appearance; I think it would suit you quite well. I don’t like to hurt good people, so please, leave before you give me the chance.
There isn’t much more to be said, my motives have been documented for a long time. I plan on establishing my legacy; and doing all that can be done in this industry. This match, and the National Championship; are all just mere stepping stones; minuscule in comparison to the bigger picture. Though when given the opportunity, I’ll win, and I’ll assure to you; that this isn’t the last of you hear of Grayson Cain. This is only the beginning.
It definitely doesn't seem like you're trying to emulate him, but it just has that feel and it works. I dig that point. I think you hit that third part. The characters all seem to speak in a similar tone. I don't think it's a problem with simplifying the dialogue because any problem that it could possibly bring up would solve. There's a little that it can be unrealistic, but it doesn't take me out of it. Like the Alex portion, I felt like it was more a movie style conversation and could visualize it on a movie screen, that made it something that I thought you wrote well. It was a cinematic thing. A better example would be this line: "From the tiniest details or so, I find you very intriguing Grayson." It felt like something Grayson would say to someone else and not a separate character. The direction you're taking Grayson on is one that if you do it well, which I personally expect you to, it will be very fun to follow. If you can litter it with secondary characters that are vastly different from Grayson in everything from mindset to mannerisms and speech, it would continue to add to it. You're still finding a voice with Grayson too, for a second RP you're setting good building blocks to the character and you definitely can take him down an interesting road.
