Post by veronicaaaahhhh on Jul 19, 2007 4:27:05 GMT -5
Wayne McGurk Felo-de-se RP
Wayne McGurk didn’t need to look back; as soon as he heard the bell fall short on him, there was nothing else to do but take it up the ass. Had to move on, had to accept it; but damn, it was close- too
ing close. He stopped for a brief moment, midway up the entrance ramp, held his hands around his waist, closed his eyes, and nodded his head down- he was tired. Wayne peered his eyes open less than a quarter through and turned over towards the right side of the stage; looking at all the fans scattered beyond his reach. Wayne turned his gaze lower, and looked at the fans along the first rows, looking at him; watching every step up he took; the eyes, veering onwards until he was gone far beyond the curtain, watching a man whose luck fell short by a ing second. Wayne turned his head to a fan along the isle; kid, somewhere between seventeen and nineteen, in an Axis T-Shirt. Wayne looked at him; the kid clapping his hands towards Wayne, nodding his head- thanking him. At least, that was how he saw it. Wayne looked down upon the kid’s hands; several miles away from him, the kid seemed closer- like he was right next to him. Wayne looked at the hands, clamped together for that moment in time; mid-clap as Frankie would say. A small mark lay between the thumb and index fingers. It looked like dirt, chocolate at best; wasn’t. Looking closer, it was a perfect circle; light brown, and embedded onto his skin- birthmark. Wayne took a step in reverse, as the kid took his hand away from the other, finishing the clap. Wayne nodded at him and motioned closer towards the curtain.
Wayne looked through the mesh; see-through starry black curtain; and found Vanessa sitting with her had down; locks of red draping over her face. Like she always did, win or lose, she sat right there, waiting for him. As Wayne walked forward, it was like a part of her was drawing closer to him. She sat on the chair, with her right foot against the seat; her arms curled around her boot- tightening the lace. Vanessa set her gaze up; the only thing Wayne could see was her eyes- a touch of emerald amidst flame. Wayne closed his eyes; he could feel her. The whiff of her hair dangling before him, so close to touch; the smell of vanilla almond, soft. It was just like lying next to her; on their side, behind her; her thick curls often choking him. In a good way.
Wayne opened his eyes, and saw her standing; closer now. She drew herself closer to him, and as he came through the curtain, she reached her hand out to him; smiling. Wayne standing before the curtain, reached his hand through the curtain, and took hers in his. They looked at each other; just the two standing on opposite sides of opposite worlds. As an arena stood behind him, with a Champion celebrating his victory, a different world stood behind Vanessa; men returning to what ever they had left of a normal life, ring crews, producers, and who ever the hell else was there packing up; emptying. A scene like this is like a smark fan’s dream, two different worlds taking place in one place. In there, they went over business; you had new guys looking for that chance to prove themselves to the rest, and you had all the other people the people at home never got to see, the people picking up after all these big stars and putting the whole damn show together- you had that and the rock star **** everyone fantasizes over. Out there, you had all those people looking for a show, expecting to see someone getting hurt, looking good doing it, and, us, the wrestlers, doing two damn things at once; fighting, and making themselves look good for every ass on a seat. It would be a hell of a lot easier if they cut through the showmanship and went directly into the wrestling.
Wayne looked at Vanessa, standing across his through the curtain; her hand in his.
Hey…
You’ll get him next time; you did before. Thrice
I know.
How do you?
I’ve got the power to score a “next time”.
Abusive of one’s power’s are we?
No. I’m just telling you what I can and can not do; tonight, I couldn’t not beat him. So as far as I know, that belt isn’t within my reach. For now.
You do want to know what is?
Vanessa nodded her head. Wayne came in through the curtain and pulled her into him.
*
Obo, just so were both clear on something. All you have over me is one win and the power to absoloutley up my life. But do you remember what happened last time? I'm sure you do, because it's tatooed to my ing skull; it's as much a part of me as they I was born. Last time I beat you, and for that you took me the deepest dephs of phsycologial hell, when you took the sun away from my sky. And for that I fought until I had her around my arms and the International Championship around my waist. So just because you beat me, don't mean that you're better than me.
And you know what, maybe you're right. Maybe I'm a twat, because I'm not really the badass I set myself to be. I drink beer and I'm a smoker. Has the thought that maybe I just want to quit ever come across your mind? For a man like me, who is forced to test my tolerance of pain, night in and night out. Wouldn't it be a little logical, in these eyes of mine, to maybe quit; add a couple more years to my life? And maybe I am a hepre, due to the fact that I just wont die. I first steped foot here two years ago, and I don't think you, or anyone else for that matter, conjured that I'd be where I am, just a mere two years later.
Obo, if there's anything I want to take away from this, is that history, no matter if we like it or not, has the tendency to repeat itself. You me once, and I took away everything you had. Let this be a lesson Obo, don't with me again.
Wayne McGurk didn’t need to look back; as soon as he heard the bell fall short on him, there was nothing else to do but take it up the ass. Had to move on, had to accept it; but damn, it was close- too
ing close. He stopped for a brief moment, midway up the entrance ramp, held his hands around his waist, closed his eyes, and nodded his head down- he was tired. Wayne peered his eyes open less than a quarter through and turned over towards the right side of the stage; looking at all the fans scattered beyond his reach. Wayne turned his gaze lower, and looked at the fans along the first rows, looking at him; watching every step up he took; the eyes, veering onwards until he was gone far beyond the curtain, watching a man whose luck fell short by a ing second. Wayne turned his head to a fan along the isle; kid, somewhere between seventeen and nineteen, in an Axis T-Shirt. Wayne looked at him; the kid clapping his hands towards Wayne, nodding his head- thanking him. At least, that was how he saw it. Wayne looked down upon the kid’s hands; several miles away from him, the kid seemed closer- like he was right next to him. Wayne looked at the hands, clamped together for that moment in time; mid-clap as Frankie would say. A small mark lay between the thumb and index fingers. It looked like dirt, chocolate at best; wasn’t. Looking closer, it was a perfect circle; light brown, and embedded onto his skin- birthmark. Wayne took a step in reverse, as the kid took his hand away from the other, finishing the clap. Wayne nodded at him and motioned closer towards the curtain.Wayne looked through the mesh; see-through starry black curtain; and found Vanessa sitting with her had down; locks of red draping over her face. Like she always did, win or lose, she sat right there, waiting for him. As Wayne walked forward, it was like a part of her was drawing closer to him. She sat on the chair, with her right foot against the seat; her arms curled around her boot- tightening the lace. Vanessa set her gaze up; the only thing Wayne could see was her eyes- a touch of emerald amidst flame. Wayne closed his eyes; he could feel her. The whiff of her hair dangling before him, so close to touch; the smell of vanilla almond, soft. It was just like lying next to her; on their side, behind her; her thick curls often choking him. In a good way.
Wayne opened his eyes, and saw her standing; closer now. She drew herself closer to him, and as he came through the curtain, she reached her hand out to him; smiling. Wayne standing before the curtain, reached his hand through the curtain, and took hers in his. They looked at each other; just the two standing on opposite sides of opposite worlds. As an arena stood behind him, with a Champion celebrating his victory, a different world stood behind Vanessa; men returning to what ever they had left of a normal life, ring crews, producers, and who ever the hell else was there packing up; emptying. A scene like this is like a smark fan’s dream, two different worlds taking place in one place. In there, they went over business; you had new guys looking for that chance to prove themselves to the rest, and you had all the other people the people at home never got to see, the people picking up after all these big stars and putting the whole damn show together- you had that and the rock star **** everyone fantasizes over. Out there, you had all those people looking for a show, expecting to see someone getting hurt, looking good doing it, and, us, the wrestlers, doing two damn things at once; fighting, and making themselves look good for every ass on a seat. It would be a hell of a lot easier if they cut through the showmanship and went directly into the wrestling.
Wayne looked at Vanessa, standing across his through the curtain; her hand in his.
Hey…
You’ll get him next time; you did before. Thrice
I know.
How do you?
I’ve got the power to score a “next time”.
Abusive of one’s power’s are we?
No. I’m just telling you what I can and can not do; tonight, I couldn’t not beat him. So as far as I know, that belt isn’t within my reach. For now.
You do want to know what is?
Vanessa nodded her head. Wayne came in through the curtain and pulled her into him.
*
Obo, just so were both clear on something. All you have over me is one win and the power to absoloutley
up my life. But do you remember what happened last time? I'm sure you do, because it's tatooed to my ing skull; it's as much a part of me as they I was born. Last time I beat you, and for that you took me the deepest dephs of phsycologial hell, when you took the sun away from my sky. And for that I fought until I had her around my arms and the International Championship around my waist. So just because you beat me, don't mean that you're better than me.And you know what, maybe you're right. Maybe I'm a twat, because I'm not really the badass I set myself to be. I drink beer and I'm a smoker. Has the thought that maybe I just want to quit ever come across your mind? For a man like me, who is forced to test my tolerance of pain, night in and night out. Wouldn't it be a little logical, in these eyes of mine, to maybe quit; add a couple more years to my life? And maybe I am a hepre, due to the fact that I just wont die. I first steped foot here two years ago, and I don't think you, or anyone else for that matter, conjured that I'd be where I am, just a mere two years later.
Obo, if there's anything I want to take away from this, is that history, no matter if we like it or not, has the tendency to repeat itself. You
me once, and I took away everything you had. Let this be a lesson Obo, don't with me again.
