Post by jimbobdudley on Jun 21, 2007 13:58:39 GMT -5
Rain...rain...and more rain.
Drops of rain splash all around like bullets from from the sky. The Possessed Child and his Follower sit a stones throw away from the Louis Armstrong building in a clapped out all car. The Follower slouches in the ripped and torn drivers seat looking outside at the rain as it spits on the car's dirtied glass windows. He shoots a glance at his watch.
Five thirty, miles too early. They haven't even opened the doors for them yet.
However, the Child had been persisting through tout the journey, all the way from the hotel, that they got there early. 'Get our spot' he had said 'Don't want to spend anymore time in that changing room when there's people around'. The Follower, from the time he had met his manager, had gathered slowly that The Child had a sense of paranoia. Always assumed he was unliked, hated and loathed. It was either this or The Child just didn't like company.
The rain poured harder as more time passed. All the while the silence in the car between the two men grew on longer. The Possessed Child was a man of little words, sometimes none at all. The Follower just stared, it seemed, out into the open abyss. The doors not opening for a good long while the silence looked to last for a good while longer. The Follower's mind worked madly as he thought a million things at once. His mind always went berserk in silence. He liked noise. Loved it. Whether it was loud rock, the type where the words were always un-hearable, to the noise of conversations in bars. The Child, however, seemed to differ come this. Silence was his virtue. Walks in countryside. Empty alleyways. Even just sitting in libraries. There he would be at ease. And this one was no exception. He sat next to him, legs resting above the glove compartment, looking at his window. He looked at the droplets of rain dance their way down wards. The Follower swore he was smiling, something a bit of a rarity he had found out. His faced was something of a small boy looking out of his bedroom window on a wet autumns day. The prospect of adventure and more memories to make laid out before him. Then The Possessed Child blinked. Just like that, the Child changed back to what he truly was. Gone was the small boy's smile. Gone was the prospects and memories. Come forward had the eyes of hatred and anger. The frowning eyebrows and the disgruntled mouth. Come forward had The Possessed Child.
P-C: What time is it?
P-F: Pfft...about fifth teen to six. Doors open at quarter past six according to the bloke at t'sercuirity box.
P-C: Anyone else come yet? Any more cars?
P-F: Few trucks, I think. I can't see properly through this glass...
P-C: Rub some of the murk away...should work.
P-F: Rub it? I don't know even know what it is! All I know is that it smells a bit off.
The Child gives a look of disgust at The Follower at his refusal of his advice and slowly turns towards his window. A quick sniff results in a quick retreat and turns back towards the Follower.
P-C: Does seem to be a bit off...yes...
P-F: Should've rented a better car.
P-C: Why? Its only temporary. I'd rather have this car for a day than a big...flashy car which will probably cost thousands for a a few hours driving.
P-F: At least a bigger and flashier car wouldn't make a strange rattling noise when you make a turn in it!
P-C: If any car makes a strange rattling noise when it is in perfect condition as this one, its clearly the drivers ability to drive it.
The Follower is clearly disgruntled at this insult and feels he has to get his revenge in some way or form. He lets off a little smile. He's got it.
P-F: Excuse me asking this, Sir, but what is my role to you?
The Possessed Child looks at the Follower with a puzzled look. His words come out in a quizzical manner, as if un-trusted to where this is leading.
P-C: Your role? To help protect me and my title. Why you ask?
P-F: Because I see people like you using people like me are cowards.
The last word leaves a sour silence in the, with only the pitter patter of rain against the window. Each men stare at each other with both different intentions. The Possessed Follower proud at what he has just said while The Possessed Child seethes in anger at those very words.
P-C: Would you call your master a coward?
P-F: Only if he feels to use me anymore.
The Possessed Child leans forward ever so slightly and stares darkly into the Followers eyes.
P-C: You watch out there tonight and at the PPV and tell me in my eyes when me meet after them both we'll meet and I dare you to tell me I'm a coward.
They continue to stare down at each other until a rattling of a door is heard behind them. A grey metal sheet rattles upwards for one of the lorries to back into. The Child turns and heads for the door. He gives The Follower one last look before exiting, bag in hand. The Follower sits in thought as he looks out into the rain.
------<-->------
Dane Christian...you think you can abuse me on my own grounds? Ever since I've arrived in the WFWF, The House Show has been my stomping ground. I've defeated anyone they've thrown at me. Thats why I'm the X-Breed Champion. That's why I'm mad. Thats why I'm fuming, raging at thinking you can not show any respect towards my status of champion and throw my jewel, my title, at my fallen body. Do you know what humiliation I went through with that? Flo-De-Se, you and me.
And by God you better clutch your bible and hope the Big Man's on your side, because I'm hell bent on showing you why they called me The Possessed Child.
Drops of rain splash all around like bullets from from the sky. The Possessed Child and his Follower sit a stones throw away from the Louis Armstrong building in a clapped out all car. The Follower slouches in the ripped and torn drivers seat looking outside at the rain as it spits on the car's dirtied glass windows. He shoots a glance at his watch.
Five thirty, miles too early. They haven't even opened the doors for them yet.
However, the Child had been persisting through tout the journey, all the way from the hotel, that they got there early. 'Get our spot' he had said 'Don't want to spend anymore time in that changing room when there's people around'. The Follower, from the time he had met his manager, had gathered slowly that The Child had a sense of paranoia. Always assumed he was unliked, hated and loathed. It was either this or The Child just didn't like company.
The rain poured harder as more time passed. All the while the silence in the car between the two men grew on longer. The Possessed Child was a man of little words, sometimes none at all. The Follower just stared, it seemed, out into the open abyss. The doors not opening for a good long while the silence looked to last for a good while longer. The Follower's mind worked madly as he thought a million things at once. His mind always went berserk in silence. He liked noise. Loved it. Whether it was loud rock, the type where the words were always un-hearable, to the noise of conversations in bars. The Child, however, seemed to differ come this. Silence was his virtue. Walks in countryside. Empty alleyways. Even just sitting in libraries. There he would be at ease. And this one was no exception. He sat next to him, legs resting above the glove compartment, looking at his window. He looked at the droplets of rain dance their way down wards. The Follower swore he was smiling, something a bit of a rarity he had found out. His faced was something of a small boy looking out of his bedroom window on a wet autumns day. The prospect of adventure and more memories to make laid out before him. Then The Possessed Child blinked. Just like that, the Child changed back to what he truly was. Gone was the small boy's smile. Gone was the prospects and memories. Come forward had the eyes of hatred and anger. The frowning eyebrows and the disgruntled mouth. Come forward had The Possessed Child.
P-C: What time is it?
P-F: Pfft...about fifth teen to six. Doors open at quarter past six according to the bloke at t'sercuirity box.
P-C: Anyone else come yet? Any more cars?
P-F: Few trucks, I think. I can't see properly through this glass...
P-C: Rub some of the murk away...should work.
P-F: Rub it? I don't know even know what it is! All I know is that it smells a bit off.
The Child gives a look of disgust at The Follower at his refusal of his advice and slowly turns towards his window. A quick sniff results in a quick retreat and turns back towards the Follower.
P-C: Does seem to be a bit off...yes...
P-F: Should've rented a better car.
P-C: Why? Its only temporary. I'd rather have this car for a day than a big...flashy car which will probably cost thousands for a a few hours driving.
P-F: At least a bigger and flashier car wouldn't make a strange rattling noise when you make a turn in it!
P-C: If any car makes a strange rattling noise when it is in perfect condition as this one, its clearly the drivers ability to drive it.
The Follower is clearly disgruntled at this insult and feels he has to get his revenge in some way or form. He lets off a little smile. He's got it.
P-F: Excuse me asking this, Sir, but what is my role to you?
The Possessed Child looks at the Follower with a puzzled look. His words come out in a quizzical manner, as if un-trusted to where this is leading.
P-C: Your role? To help protect me and my title. Why you ask?
P-F: Because I see people like you using people like me are cowards.
The last word leaves a sour silence in the, with only the pitter patter of rain against the window. Each men stare at each other with both different intentions. The Possessed Follower proud at what he has just said while The Possessed Child seethes in anger at those very words.
P-C: Would you call your master a coward?
P-F: Only if he feels to use me anymore.
The Possessed Child leans forward ever so slightly and stares darkly into the Followers eyes.
P-C: You watch out there tonight and at the PPV and tell me in my eyes when me meet after them both we'll meet and I dare you to tell me I'm a coward.
They continue to stare down at each other until a rattling of a door is heard behind them. A grey metal sheet rattles upwards for one of the lorries to back into. The Child turns and heads for the door. He gives The Follower one last look before exiting, bag in hand. The Follower sits in thought as he looks out into the rain.
------<-->------
Dane Christian...you think you can abuse me on my own grounds? Ever since I've arrived in the WFWF, The House Show has been my stomping ground. I've defeated anyone they've thrown at me. Thats why I'm the X-Breed Champion. That's why I'm mad. Thats why I'm fuming, raging at thinking you can not show any respect towards my status of champion and throw my jewel, my title, at my fallen body. Do you know what humiliation I went through with that? Flo-De-Se, you and me.
And by God you better clutch your bible and hope the Big Man's on your side, because I'm hell bent on showing you why they called me The Possessed Child.
=====================
OOC: Thanks a f'ing bunch to McGurk for the extentsion, really appreciated.
Not my best I must admit, I can do better but I was pushed for idea's this week. Com's and crit' appreciated.
