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Rank：Diamond Member
- Score：643
- Posts：643
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From：Canada
- Register：12/07/2008 01:08 AM
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Date Posted：07/24/2016 16:52 PMCopy HTML
You know what I love? Watching someone I hate fail miserably. Like, fail to a point where they have to fall to their knees in disbelief, wondering how they even got to that very moment. Wondering what wrong step they took to get there. Questioning their own abilities and skills. It's my favourite thing. I just can't get over the feeling I have when I watch it happen. This... is something I'm hoping to witness again. Be it from one opponent or the other. I just hope to witness the look of pain, regret, and sadness on their face when they realize they aren't the ones moving on. For me, this match is win-win. Either I get to witness this most glorious occasion of failure. Or I win. I mean... the latter gives me the best of both worlds, so I'm rather looking forward to that one.
But let's look at the odds, shall we? This match is triple threat. Meaning... three women looking to move on to a higher tier in the game. Odds being one in three. Now, judging by talent, the odds skew quite a bit. We have a rookie, whom I would consider as myself. We have a veteran who could break apart a train track if she willed it enough. And we have... something else completely. I don't even know what to call her, honestly. But by those odds, I wouldn't be normally ranked as high. A rookie doesn't know as much as the vet. And they're still not as experienced as the person in wrestling limbo. Limbo is probably the best term I can come up with for that third person in the match. But... But, but, but... a rookie can have luck on their side. A rookie may have speed on their side. Agility, focus, drive, heart... anything else you could come up with. They strive to prove themselves, especially to those higher in the rankings. So, now, where do the odds stand? Are we still at an even third for each competitor? Do we have the rookie at a lower odd than the others? Or does the rookie suddenly have the best odds out of the three? These odds are more in your hands. The viewers hands. Place your bets. Choose wisely. Because if you choose incorrectly, you won't like the outcome.
Personally speaking... my money is on the rookie...
- - - - - - - - -
"This fucking rookie right here... what a noob."
Psyche sat on her bed, holding an Xbox One controller (stop judging, whore) in her hands. She was furiously mashing at some buttons, trying to revive another player on her screen. She had never thought of herself to call someone a noob, let alone get mad at a person for being newer to a game. But it was totally called for. Jason perked up as he had zoned out watching her play.
Jason: "Did you just call someone a 'noob'?"
Psyche made a face as she kept her focus on the screen.
Psyche: "Yes. I definitely did. But when a person joins your game at level 50 in the middle of a fight with Voracidous, one of the hardest raid bosses, I may add, I get a little angry. I'm the highest level. This dickhead shouldn't have even been able to join my fight. Now it's harder and he keeps bloody dying anyways!"
Jason: "Why don't you just force him to leave?"
Psyche: "Because I'm busy. If I lose focus just to boot him, I'll fuck it all up. MOTHER OF GODS!"
Psyche yelled at the TV, angry that she was close to death without any forseeable comeback to win. She mashed harder at the buttons.
Psyche: "THANK YOU! I just found life. Fuck this guy. I'm not respawning him. I'm not helping him. He can die for all I care. I'm not the best. I've died a thousand times... but shit... I don't show that off to other players."
Jason shrugged and zoned out into the game again.
- - - - - - - - -
Now I have had my ups and downs in this game. I have lost fights that I couldn't even believe I had lost. That failure that I love to witness so much... I've had it many times on my own. But I've also brought down the giants. Carved my name into the brains of the fans. Constantly, I'm told my name will be forgotten. I'm told I'll be nothing after this particular match with whomever it is I happen to be facing. The person tries their hardest to break me down and make me feel worthless. But I've never succumbed to those expectations. I come back week after week. I prove them wrong. It's hard to be forgotten when you've left a mark. It's funny... Most times that I have been told such things and I come out the victor, that person falls into obscurity. They're never heard from again. Likely out of sheer embarrassment for their own words that fell short. I know there have been a few. But... for the life of me... I just can't... remember... their names.
I will persevere. I have chosen my own fate. I have worked hard to ensure that my fate continues on the path I've chosen. I've a legacy to uphold. A man who showed me light in the darkness of a dingy underground fighting club. Or, in ways, the darkness. But he showed me my true path. Taught me how to act in a proper fight. And taught me how to convert that into wrestling. For that, I will never truly thank him enough. The most I can do is continue his legacy in my own way.
This is the way. What path are you both choosing?
- - - - - - - - -
Psyche: "Is this kid fucking hiding? Is he hiding in a hole and shooting his shite gun at it? You're not bloody helping! Be bait. BE BAIT!"
She yelled at the screen again. The fight was rough. It was taking forever. Jason pointed at the screen.
Jason: "You missed some ammo."
Psyche: "Where?"
Jason: "Right there. Turn around. Yep. Yep. Got it. Turn around again before you die."
Psyche nodded, following his instructions. She did enjoy his company while she played Borderlands.
Psyche: "I'm going to beat this motherfucker. I'm going to kill this bloody raid boss."
- - - - - - - - -
SHE. She is what I hope to be one day. She is the veteran. She is the one some look up to. The one some revel. We look at her past and remember. We know her successes and failures. We've watched them all. We've watched the changes and seen her get better and better. But she's starting to slow. She's not like she used to be. Change has ended. There's nothing left to change into. No more ways to adapt. She has nothing left to learn. All she has left is to remember. Take things from her past and replay them. Remove herself from that past and try to bring herself to the future. She is close to the end. Close to her end. But she's grasping for something. Trying to get to air. But she's slowly being swallowed. Slowly being dragged into the abyss. Slowly drowning.
Soon she will be no more.
Whisper, you have said some very interesting things in the past. Things that have been out of character for you. You're hard-headed and don't do well with others. But the world saw a very different side of Whisper already. A side many never thought possible. Not because you've changed. Not because you're adapting. I think it's because you know that you're hitting the end. You don't care anymore. You don't care about your stone shell you used to have. You don't care about the bullshit people say. You don't care to have that sting in your words anymore. It's like you're a dying old woman in her bed. And all you can do is remember your happiness in your earlier years. I'd say it is like a bitterness, but there is no tangy aftertaste to the words you say. There's nothing. Like a saltine cracker. Bland and boring. Only to be consumed either with another rich-tasting item or to be eaten when sick. You're amazing in the ring. You prove that time and time again. But you're not perfect. You're slipping. Things are beginning to slow. And it has shown, even in your words. Where has the hate gone? Where has that fire gone? Where is Whisper?
There was a time when people feared you. Cowered at the sight of you. They bowed at your feet for your accomplishments in and out of the ring. You were praised for what you were. But now... you're a masseuse and a trainer. Nothing more. You show your students all the things you've learned over the years. And they learn to fight back. So what else is there for you to do? We all know your tricks and secrets now. What could you possibly show us now? You're a healer and a teacher. You're no longer a big threat in this company. The days are over where people would be frightened when they saw your name next to theirs in a match. She will be a challenge, yes. But only for so long. You are mocked for the things you have done. And while I would never claim that what you did wasn't great, I will point out that it was things you DID that were great. Not the things you WILL do. The Whisper era is over, love. Don't become even more bland.
- - - - - - - - -
Psyche: "Could you pass me one of the crackers?"
Jason: "Can you take your hands off the controller for it?"
Psyche: "Well... no... You mind feeding it to me?"
She gave him a cheeky grin, keeping her eyes on the screen. Jason shook his head. He grabbed her a cracker anyways, placing it in her open mouth. She chewed it before talking again.
Psyche: "Thanks, love. They're rather bland, huh? Wish we had some brie and jelly."
Jason: "Who the fuck has whatever that is laying around?"
Psyche: "Cheese and jam or jelly? Probably everyone. I usually do."
Jason: "Well we don't have it here. So... live with it."
Psyche smirked, continuing her game.
Psyche: "I hate you."
Jason: "I hate you too."
- - - - - - - - -
SHE. She is the girl everyone loves to hate. The woman with one thousand excuses. She tries to pretend like she is a bad bitch. Pretend that she is above everyone else. She thinks more of herself than anyone else does. She believes she is the conversation upon everyones tongue. She has the delusion that she is 'The One'. She is the one to fight. She is the one to be the face of a company. She is the be all, end all.
She... is nothing.
Niobe Martin is caught in a furious limbo within the company. I'm sure I'm not the only one that was surprised to see her still a part of the cards. I didn't even think she was still here. And that's not me being a bitch. I'm being honest. People say I am to be forgotten? I'm sure I'm not the only one that forgot about you, sweetheart.
Niobe... you have so much faith in yourself. And I applaud you for that. Because nobody else does. Nobody else is cheering for you. Nobody is rooting for you backstage. You have nobody on your side. You abandoned everything and everyone that actually gave you a name. You have this uncanny ability to pretend that everyone is talking about you. That anyone at all cares enough about you that they would speak your name. But they don't. Nobody speaks of you. Not on twitter. Not backstage. Not even in the mumblings of the fans between matches. The cheers you hear when you come out for each match are simply cheers of excitement for the match. More than likely for your opponent. Anything you hear is simple chatter. Nothing more. Your self-absorption in thinking that you are the topic of everyones conversation is bewildering. And don't get me started on the lies. When did you walk out of anything? Last week you weren't even on the show. The week before? We saw you beaten down. You walked from nothing. You don't care about things people say. You don't care about people you were involved with in the past. Yet you continue to bring them up. You talk about them as if they actually did mean something to you, but you try to hide your bitterness behind not caring. I pity you. I honestly do.
But don't mistake pity for backing down.
- - - - - - - - -
Psyche: "I'm not giving up. I'm not going to diiiiiie!"
She was back to having a low amount of health. She ran around the arena in game looking for something to save her. She finally hit another health vial, bringing her back to a good spot on her meter. She continued her regular strategy of shooting with random guns, running around in circles.
Psyche: "He's almost dead, Jason. I'm so close. This level 50 has helped in the most minescule way possible, though. Such a waste of space."
Jason nodded, not saying much more. He took a long pull from the joint that he had been nursing the whole time.
Psyche: "I swear... if this guy..."
She trailed off, getting back into the game.
- - - - - - - - -
SHE. She is the one who tries as hard as she can. She is the one who falls just to get right back up. She will continue to try again, even if she is being tested. She will not back down from a fight. She will not let a loss bring her down. She will fight. She will fight. She. Will. Fight.
She is me.
I do not think highly of myself. I do not pretend that I am better than others. I am myself. I have flaws. I have failed. I have been broken down before. But I don't quit. This isn't a grudge. This isn't personal towards someone else. But it is personal. I held this title once before. I beat countless others in a match to win. This right here... isn't very new to me. Yes, I lost the title. I lost focus on what mattered. I lost focus on what I really wanted. I forgot what that title meant. I let it slip away. Now is my chance to reclaim it. It is my chance to hold that title once again. My chance for a chance. And I intend on taking that chance. I hope to rip it away from both of your pretty fingers and take it from you. I will rise again. This may just be the way I do it.
I see you, Niobe. And I see you, Whisper. Neither of you are forgotten in this match. There is no ignorance. Just bliss. Realization that my time is coming. Niobe is nothing, but she can also be something. She can be a challenge. So can Whisper. But it is a challenge I am looking to jump right into. I will overcome. I will succeed.
You'll see. The odds are in my favour.
- - - - - - - - -
Psyche: "HE'S DEAD! FUCKING YES!"
She almost tossed the controller from her hands as it happened. Excitement filled her eyes as she watched the rain of gear and other assorted items falling from the boss.
Jason: "Good job."
Psyche: "Thanks, love."
She took her eyes off the screen for a moment, turning to Jason and kissing him on the cheek. She then looked at the game, shock filling her eyes.
Psyche: "FUCK!"
She watched in horror as the other guy took the last of the most amazing items dropped by the raid boss.
Psyche: "He stole everything! EVERYTHING! What the fuck!? He just left! He left the game! He did nothing, stole all my shit, and left the game! MOTHER OF FUCK!"
Jason: "Well that fucking sucks."
Psyche: "I'm fucking done. I quit. Rage quit. Me right now."
Jason: "Awesome. Smoke a bowl with me."
Psyche clenched her teeth, turning off the system. After a few seconds staring at the black screen, she turned her head to Jason.
Psyche: "Okay. Bowl and then food, yeah? I'll get back to that stupid boss again tomorrow. But this time... nobody is joining my bloody game." |
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