Post by thewarchild on Jul 16, 2016 13:50:08 GMT -6
The sound of the shower running is a nice alternative to the eerie silence I get walking through these halls. I see the doubt, the disdain that I’ve earned from Goldie’s….My chosen. I never asked for this. I never wanted to be the leader. I want to be left to my own devices and yet…
No, no. She's never called before. It’s her, that number. Gah get it away! The shower, just got to get in the shower and let the water drown it all out. Pant’s first, yes Joanna getting undressed would be a smart thing, did someone hear my whimper? No, and no one would recognize the ringtone. Oh why won’t it turn off? Focus Joanna focus.
I can’t do this, not now. Oooooh why did I grab it as it’s still ringing? She can’t be real, can she? Why do I care I need to get away from this. I need to get away from everything. I’m hated here, I’ve disgraced what the Chosen stand for, in their mind, vowing to throw away opportunities because I don’t like them.
“What does it matter?”
It matters. It all matters, every match, every look, they all serve a purpose and I refuse to lay down for nothing. If I have one thing in this disgusting corrupt world it’s my word and I’ll stand by it. They can hate me, mock me, tease and torment me, but I’m no liar. Goldie made me Queen in more than name, and while they don’t have to like it, I can’t stand the doubt. When have I been wrong? Ryder wasn’t ready, Constance retains due to her inability to care, English IS a poison, Winter is nothing more than a cunt that can’t stand her own failures, Emma will rise again, Gina isn’t the same care-free girl, and Zahara and Datura both were more focused on an honest match than a message.
“I WAS RIGHT!”
And still they doubt me. They question my sanity, oh how cute and original. Well Chosen eat your heart out. Once again my words were ignored, so once again I’ll have to send another message.
Oops, oh well, not like I need that crap anyway. Goldie and Shields can be bothered to find me for a little. Not like that is ever hard. Wait why is my bra still on? Ah free of boob jail. Whoever invented that infernal contraption needs a psych eval, but pushups do help a girl out when the time... am I really having a debate about the uses of a bra as warm water is wasted and SHE is refusing to take a hint?
Goldie must have been the last to use this, or Ophelia, those two are the only ones that can stand such a cold shower. Let’s see, warmer but still cold enough for glass cutting. Now what was my last productive thought? …
Ah ignored message. Management has seen fit to offer up another slab of expiring meat in...what’s his name? Maywell? Maxum? Silver Hammer...Ah Maxwell. One of the clowns that got lost in Datura’s and Talon’s preshow demonstration. Well guess he’s being dangled in front of me to test my conviction, since Zahara and Datura failed to satisfy my hunger for competition. So silly that management thinks they can bait me into becoming a liar, a hypocrite, a predictable sheep they can lead to the social slaughter like everyone else.
“Hehehe”
Oh daddy if you could see me now. Would you still hate your little girl? Would you still blame her for your loss? Would you still beat her for taking away your angle? No, no you wouldn’t. You wouldn’t touch me, I wouldn’t let you. I’d renounce any connection to you, just like I made my own name, my own way. That’s right DAD your girl grew up into a walking terror. A slut, a whore, a lunatic, a bitch, a cunt. Name it! I AM IT!
Tile doesn’t hurt as much as it should. Oh well a few more punches won’t break anything. I am War. Father, you fat bastard, VoW you entitled pricks, and even you Chosen, you can all stop doubting me. I’m flesh, I’m rage, I’m blood sweat and tears, I’m swords and shields clashing for a purpose. I don’t go with the flow why is that so hard to see?
Why can’t you leave me be? Why must I walk alone and hear such ill advised whispers? Whispers I can’t silence, I can’t correct without some line being crossed. Yet I, I have to be the bigger person and move on. Because I’m the monster that with just the wrong move will send me away for life. Why does no one see that?
That’s a lot of water in my mouth, gah. Only Goldie and yet she’s lost in her own head. Don’t I know what that’s like, a slave to your thoughts. The violence, the rage, all want to get out and yet I have to check myself. I ruin all I touch in an instant. And now, now, Goldie wants to be mine. That’s a great idea, marry the girl that can and may kill you in a fit of rage as you sleep. Good one Goldie, let me just grab my straitjacket now and get use to it cause I know I’ll ruin this to.
I can’t even manage to win when I need it. I may be War, but I’ve earned no memorable war songs. I can’t stand, it’s cold and I can’t stop shaking. Is this sadness? Why can’t I move? Fear I understand, rage, anger, lust, doubt, yet I can't manage to move. All the thoughts and I can’t manage to stand, how pathetic. What’s that?
Knocking? Why? Obviously the water is on and door is locked I don’t want company.
Oh, Luca, of course. I’d answer if I could manage a sound but the water coming from me and these thoughts. These painful, paralyzing thoughts, I can’t.
No answer, unable to answer. And that damn phone won’t stop. She’s not real, she’s NOT REAL. Go away, just go away. Stop knocking, stop ringing, let me numb everything alone. Turn around and go back to the warmth of lies, the embrace of falsehoods that the world feeds us and leave me alone.
Each drop, each thunderous drop is colder than the last, yet it still burns my skin. I’ve lost it I can’t even feel correctly. Boy won’t Shields enjoy this? No, no he won’t. Even I, his pet project, his career case, takes a back seat to Goldie. My Princess, why do you empower all that bask in your shadow, yet when I finally prove my worth, you yank my feet out from under me?
I prove my strength, you put me in charge of a group that was and still isn’t mine. I declare war on management, and you put both our lives in each other’s unstable hands. Your faith has only ever proven to be more than I can accomplish. I hold you down, ruin your plans, and stand in your way. Death and War, two always circling, never meant to catch each other. Maybe that’s the issue.
Soft warm words. She came right as I question everything. Either that’s a sign of good things or a sign of the end I don’t know. She should be out, preparing for her opportunity to show that kings aren’t untouchable. Not wasting time with her emotional, train wreck, crazy girlfri..fiancee. That word feels so weird and I want to tell her how misguided it is, how stupid and risky.
“Jo-Dear, open the door.”
Is that concern? No it’s an order. I just want to be left alone not saved. I don’t need it I can get through this myself. Wait, why are they backing up? She isn’t going to kick open the door, she had it reinforced.
Crap my voice is hardly believable. She’ll know, like she always does. And yet the all knowing Death let the impulsive War steer the ship straight into a sand bar. I’ve crippled and halted all progress of Chaos in the name of a personal vendetta. But I refused to be ignored.
She’s dead serious, hehehe, oddly funny. But there’s this weight I feel. I can’t move. Do I tell her that War is helpless? Lying will only piss her off, no Goldie gets the truth.
Murmured voices outside… what are they up to? Wait… give WHAT to Emma? She can’t be… well hello Hephty. So much for that door, and now I’m exposed as the weakling I dreaded. Thanks Goldie.
Gah warm hands, is she really gonna, yes pick me up. Goldie I’m blushing, but this feels right. In your arms I know myself, I know my strength.
Guess she’s got something to prove herself. I’m a fool for doubting anything, Goldie knows me better than I know myself and even when I doubt, when I question. Like Death, she is ever constant and my rock. I hope she doesn’t mind me snuggling her chest while wrapped up in the shower curtain. But she doesn’t have much choice.
Her cheek is cold but I can feel the heat. Death lifted War, and I’ll have to return the favor. We are strongest together, and she supports my choice. VoW beware, I have proven my mettle, and now Maxwell will be the test of my will.
Dear Maxwell and those that seek enlightenment,
What a situation we find ourselves in. You, Maxwell, you a nobody from nowhere hoping to make his way in the big bad world and yet willing to give money to bring a smile. Don’t be surprised, people talk, especially about someone shelling out for a stranger, and I’ve got ears everywhere Maxie. I know Journal isn’t it a cute name, well he is a cute guy, helping the less fortunate like that. But brass tacks and all that jazz we have ourselves a pickle Maxie.
You see Journal, Maxie here, is beyond well traveled in comparison to myself, and while some would give him the experience edge. Those would be the ones forgetting my message last Breakthrough. I DON’T HAVE SINGLES MATCHES. I made things crystal clear in my announcement, and last Breakthrough, as I will this Breakthrough. Without Goldie, there will be no match. I don’t care if you make it a quest for the case qualifier. I don’t care if I get a championship opportunity. Without Emma Carlisle at my side you may as well bend over and let me show you why I require a sound proof bedroom, for all the wrestling you’ll get out of me.
Yes Journal, they’re that hard headed. And Maxie this isn’t a rub on you. You want to prove yourself. You want to climb the ladder, and as much as you deserve that chance, it won’t be against me. Do yourself the favor and don’t show up to Breakthrough, because a nice guy like you deserves better than being a blood stain on the ring. That said, as my Journal will attest, show up and you’ve given your permission. I won’t hesitate, I won’t relent, I will spread my art full message with your face as the canvas.
You see Maxie, Zahara and Datura didn’t heed my warning. I told them to run, didn’t I Journal? I told them to say out of the way, to make sure to get clear and they didn’t. What’s to stop me from doing the same to you? A ref? A fine? Those worked so well in the past haven’t they? Oh Journal, stop it, I know the path I’ve walked, and I’ve made sure all can see the mistakes of others. And before you jump on the train headed for liar’s town, I’m no hypocrite. I’m no damsel in distress for you to come rescue, Maxie, sweet kindhearted Maxie, don’t think pulling off the gloves after the bell will be enough.
While you, like the snipers in Dallas, hide as you line up your shot, I stand naked in full view. I put myself in front of the world in hopes of shielding them from the addicting injections of submission that society would have them take. Look around Maxie, Journal, everyone, fear spewed haphazardly, doing their best to insight another race war. And yet here we stand Maxie, fighting over a chance, A CHANCE, at a case that may change our lives. Do you trust management Maxie? I don’t, and I know the value of a case, seeing as I’ve one before in another company. Journal, what was in one of the cases I fought so hard for? A pink slip? Why would management ever do that? Don’t think too long Maxie, it may hurt that innocent little brain of yours.
Here we stand in a squared circle, on the edge of glory, posed to grasp it and yet only management knows what we are fighting for. Seems totally fair and not a trap, right Journal? What about you Maxie? Think you got what it takes, to not only tame the crazy, but go on to face Strife, Saint, and Massey in a multi man match where your track record is less than shit? Potential sure, Journal, the guy has spunk and the ability to show up when needed, but in practice I see him as all talk with little substance. Opps did I type that up for the world to read? My bad
I should point out Maxie, that I wanted Strife and Fury to take care of this little event. They were suppose to be more than enough to take care of claiming whatever petty prize management hid inside the case. And I stand by my sisters, though Fury has had ill news befall her, that doesn’t mean I’ve lost faith in Strife. You may look at this chance as a way to jump and grab the brass ring that will pull you to stardom. I hope so. I do Journal, I really do. Because it’ll be that much sweeter watching you get carted out of the arena with your place in question because of how broken I leave you.
Maxwell, boy scout, dreamer, hope filled, Maxwell. Do not be the sheep that is lead to the slaughter. Look at the writing on the walls as the blood drips from the fresh message. Run and live to fight another day. Six officers didn’t have such a warning, and now tears will be shed as their families are informed that Daddy or Mommy won’t be coming home. I noticed you’re single, so would you like to me send a note to your parents? A friend perhaps, that way you’re not alone in the hospital.
You may be asking what shooting I’m referring to, and it’s okay Maxie. I understand you staying away from the fear inducing news that pollutes our society with hate speak, conspiracies, and distrust. Someone like you probably is more of an action or drama viewer, nothing wrong with that, right Journal? Well yes, Maxie is a guy. Okay fair point maybe not dramas but it’s the idea that someone as good natured as himself would watch something that makes him feel all warm and fuzzy. Not the point though. During a Black Lives Matter protest of police brutality a sniper opened fire on the very officers watching the protest to make sure the protesters first amendment rights were protected. And you know what they did Maxie? Journal, get this, the officers made sure to get the protesters to safety giving the sniper time to kill six, and wound eight, if I remember correctly. No need for fact checking considering those that read this are more interested in my message than the actual numbers.
See Maxie, I see you as one of the cops. Here for the every man. The guy that just wants to put on a good show and have everyone get along. Sure you’ll do what you have to when the time comes, but at your core, you’re a good guy. And I don’t want to take that away from the VoW fans. I don’t, Journal don’t you start, because they need heroes like you and Kattie that even when the darkness comes, still cling to hope and light. May seem odd but remember Maxie, I’m an agent of Chaos. You know the thing about Chaos, it’s fair. Champion or rookie, silverspoon or from the streets, Chaos embraces and torments all. It’s simple Maxie, you want to go about with your plan riding the rails to the station, like everyone else. I look at the tracks and don’t go either direction. You know why Maxie? Because as long as you’re on the tracks, forward or backwards, you’re theirs.
You want what’s best for the kids, you want to bring smiles, and fight with integrity. Go ahead, my war isn’t with you, it’s with management. But unlike Zahara and Datura, I’m not going to congratulate you on a victory before hand. No, sorry Maxie, I will congratulate you on surviving. You see, I can’t kill you without risking being sent away. And I don’t like maximum security asylums. I don’t know about you but they’re not for me. So I won’t kill you, but I will use your body as paper while I reaffirm my message to management in your blood, bruises, and pain. This won’t be a match, Maxie, that would imply I plan on letting the bell ring. I’m not. Still no intention of wrestling or performing for the puppet masters pulling our strings. No I swore I wouldn’t compete seriously without Emma by my side. And if I am anything I’m a woman of my word.
So no hard feelings. I look forward to no seeing you, because I hope you listen and don’t show up. And yet, if you do I’m not sure I’ll be able to contain my excitement. I can’t wait to eat you up and paint the ring with you. Let’s dance Maxie, not a waltz or a salsa, I’m thinking a tango. Where we can express the passion and longing we have for the world. You wanting to show how good it can be, how innocent and sweet, random acts of kindness can help. And me your dance partner cutting you open with my nails as you spin me around trying to delay the next cut, hoping I’m merely bluffing. I didn’t bluff with Zahara, Datura, or Constance. What makes you think you’re luckier than those women? See you or not at Breakthrough Maxie, I’ll bring my dancing shoes.
“It won’t cost you much just a single drop of blood”
No, no. She's never called before. It’s her, that number. Gah get it away! The shower, just got to get in the shower and let the water drown it all out. Pant’s first, yes Joanna getting undressed would be a smart thing, did someone hear my whimper? No, and no one would recognize the ringtone. Oh why won’t it turn off? Focus Joanna focus.
“I don’t want to do this”
I can’t do this, not now. Oooooh why did I grab it as it’s still ringing? She can’t be real, can she? Why do I care I need to get away from this. I need to get away from everything. I’m hated here, I’ve disgraced what the Chosen stand for, in their mind, vowing to throw away opportunities because I don’t like them.
“What does it matter?”
It matters. It all matters, every match, every look, they all serve a purpose and I refuse to lay down for nothing. If I have one thing in this disgusting corrupt world it’s my word and I’ll stand by it. They can hate me, mock me, tease and torment me, but I’m no liar. Goldie made me Queen in more than name, and while they don’t have to like it, I can’t stand the doubt. When have I been wrong? Ryder wasn’t ready, Constance retains due to her inability to care, English IS a poison, Winter is nothing more than a cunt that can’t stand her own failures, Emma will rise again, Gina isn’t the same care-free girl, and Zahara and Datura both were more focused on an honest match than a message.
“I WAS RIGHT!”
And still they doubt me. They question my sanity, oh how cute and original. Well Chosen eat your heart out. Once again my words were ignored, so once again I’ll have to send another message.
“SHUT UP! You annoying cellular shackle.”
Oops, oh well, not like I need that crap anyway. Goldie and Shields can be bothered to find me for a little. Not like that is ever hard. Wait why is my bra still on? Ah free of boob jail. Whoever invented that infernal contraption needs a psych eval, but pushups do help a girl out when the time... am I really having a debate about the uses of a bra as warm water is wasted and SHE is refusing to take a hint?
“GAH!”
Goldie must have been the last to use this, or Ophelia, those two are the only ones that can stand such a cold shower. Let’s see, warmer but still cold enough for glass cutting. Now what was my last productive thought? …
Ah ignored message. Management has seen fit to offer up another slab of expiring meat in...what’s his name? Maywell? Maxum? Silver Hammer...Ah Maxwell. One of the clowns that got lost in Datura’s and Talon’s preshow demonstration. Well guess he’s being dangled in front of me to test my conviction, since Zahara and Datura failed to satisfy my hunger for competition. So silly that management thinks they can bait me into becoming a liar, a hypocrite, a predictable sheep they can lead to the social slaughter like everyone else.
“MMM”
Finally warm enough. But that’s the rub isn’t in. Everyone else. Maxwell, Winter, Zahara, Datura, English, Robinson, Ryder, Katie, PJ, Slatie, Kincaid, Heath, Stacy, Ace, Seth, Constance, Eve, Ellimere, Ophelia. All of them failing to see what is right in front of them. And yet as I stand here, with water burning my skin, I still feel their doubting eyes on me. Like my father’s.“Hehehe”
Oh daddy if you could see me now. Would you still hate your little girl? Would you still blame her for your loss? Would you still beat her for taking away your angle? No, no you wouldn’t. You wouldn’t touch me, I wouldn’t let you. I’d renounce any connection to you, just like I made my own name, my own way. That’s right DAD your girl grew up into a walking terror. A slut, a whore, a lunatic, a bitch, a cunt. Name it! I AM IT!
“AAAAA”
Tile doesn’t hurt as much as it should. Oh well a few more punches won’t break anything. I am War. Father, you fat bastard, VoW you entitled pricks, and even you Chosen, you can all stop doubting me. I’m flesh, I’m rage, I’m blood sweat and tears, I’m swords and shields clashing for a purpose. I don’t go with the flow why is that so hard to see?
Why can’t you leave me be? Why must I walk alone and hear such ill advised whispers? Whispers I can’t silence, I can’t correct without some line being crossed. Yet I, I have to be the bigger person and move on. Because I’m the monster that with just the wrong move will send me away for life. Why does no one see that?
“WHY?!”
That’s a lot of water in my mouth, gah. Only Goldie and yet she’s lost in her own head. Don’t I know what that’s like, a slave to your thoughts. The violence, the rage, all want to get out and yet I have to check myself. I ruin all I touch in an instant. And now, now, Goldie wants to be mine. That’s a great idea, marry the girl that can and may kill you in a fit of rage as you sleep. Good one Goldie, let me just grab my straitjacket now and get use to it cause I know I’ll ruin this to.
I can’t even manage to win when I need it. I may be War, but I’ve earned no memorable war songs. I can’t stand, it’s cold and I can’t stop shaking. Is this sadness? Why can’t I move? Fear I understand, rage, anger, lust, doubt, yet I can't manage to move. All the thoughts and I can’t manage to stand, how pathetic. What’s that?
Knocking? Why? Obviously the water is on and door is locked I don’t want company.
“Joanna, everything okay?.”
Oh, Luca, of course. I’d answer if I could manage a sound but the water coming from me and these thoughts. These painful, paralyzing thoughts, I can’t.
“Joanna?”
No answer, unable to answer. And that damn phone won’t stop. She’s not real, she’s NOT REAL. Go away, just go away. Stop knocking, stop ringing, let me numb everything alone. Turn around and go back to the warmth of lies, the embrace of falsehoods that the world feeds us and leave me alone.
Each drop, each thunderous drop is colder than the last, yet it still burns my skin. I’ve lost it I can’t even feel correctly. Boy won’t Shields enjoy this? No, no he won’t. Even I, his pet project, his career case, takes a back seat to Goldie. My Princess, why do you empower all that bask in your shadow, yet when I finally prove my worth, you yank my feet out from under me?
“Why?”
I prove my strength, you put me in charge of a group that was and still isn’t mine. I declare war on management, and you put both our lives in each other’s unstable hands. Your faith has only ever proven to be more than I can accomplish. I hold you down, ruin your plans, and stand in your way. Death and War, two always circling, never meant to catch each other. Maybe that’s the issue.
“Jo-Dear?”
Soft warm words. She came right as I question everything. Either that’s a sign of good things or a sign of the end I don’t know. She should be out, preparing for her opportunity to show that kings aren’t untouchable. Not wasting time with her emotional, train wreck, crazy girlfri..fiancee. That word feels so weird and I want to tell her how misguided it is, how stupid and risky.
“Jo-Dear, open the door.”
Is that concern? No it’s an order. I just want to be left alone not saved. I don’t need it I can get through this myself. Wait, why are they backing up? She isn’t going to kick open the door, she had it reinforced.
“Leave me be Goldie, I’m fine.”
Crap my voice is hardly believable. She’ll know, like she always does. And yet the all knowing Death let the impulsive War steer the ship straight into a sand bar. I’ve crippled and halted all progress of Chaos in the name of a personal vendetta. But I refused to be ignored.
“Do not test me, Joanna Thade. Now. Or else.”
She’s dead serious, hehehe, oddly funny. But there’s this weight I feel. I can’t move. Do I tell her that War is helpless? Lying will only piss her off, no Goldie gets the truth.
“I….can’t”
Murmured voices outside… what are they up to? Wait… give WHAT to Emma? She can’t be… well hello Hephty. So much for that door, and now I’m exposed as the weakling I dreaded. Thanks Goldie.
“You’re coming with me. No one is going to see you like this but me.”
Gah warm hands, is she really gonna, yes pick me up. Goldie I’m blushing, but this feels right. In your arms I know myself, I know my strength.
“Yes, Goldie. Can I…”
“Quiet now, my Queen...”
“Quiet now, my Queen...”
Guess she’s got something to prove herself. I’m a fool for doubting anything, Goldie knows me better than I know myself and even when I doubt, when I question. Like Death, she is ever constant and my rock. I hope she doesn’t mind me snuggling her chest while wrapped up in the shower curtain. But she doesn’t have much choice.
“Back to your business, ladies. I will tend to our leader.”
“I love you Emma,”
“I love you Emma,”
Her cheek is cold but I can feel the heat. Death lifted War, and I’ll have to return the favor. We are strongest together, and she supports my choice. VoW beware, I have proven my mettle, and now Maxwell will be the test of my will.
“I love you too. Now hush… you need to rest.”
“And a new phone”
Posted online July 20th
Dear Maxwell and those that seek enlightenment,
What a situation we find ourselves in. You, Maxwell, you a nobody from nowhere hoping to make his way in the big bad world and yet willing to give money to bring a smile. Don’t be surprised, people talk, especially about someone shelling out for a stranger, and I’ve got ears everywhere Maxie. I know Journal isn’t it a cute name, well he is a cute guy, helping the less fortunate like that. But brass tacks and all that jazz we have ourselves a pickle Maxie.
You see Journal, Maxie here, is beyond well traveled in comparison to myself, and while some would give him the experience edge. Those would be the ones forgetting my message last Breakthrough. I DON’T HAVE SINGLES MATCHES. I made things crystal clear in my announcement, and last Breakthrough, as I will this Breakthrough. Without Goldie, there will be no match. I don’t care if you make it a quest for the case qualifier. I don’t care if I get a championship opportunity. Without Emma Carlisle at my side you may as well bend over and let me show you why I require a sound proof bedroom, for all the wrestling you’ll get out of me.
Yes Journal, they’re that hard headed. And Maxie this isn’t a rub on you. You want to prove yourself. You want to climb the ladder, and as much as you deserve that chance, it won’t be against me. Do yourself the favor and don’t show up to Breakthrough, because a nice guy like you deserves better than being a blood stain on the ring. That said, as my Journal will attest, show up and you’ve given your permission. I won’t hesitate, I won’t relent, I will spread my art full message with your face as the canvas.
You see Maxie, Zahara and Datura didn’t heed my warning. I told them to run, didn’t I Journal? I told them to say out of the way, to make sure to get clear and they didn’t. What’s to stop me from doing the same to you? A ref? A fine? Those worked so well in the past haven’t they? Oh Journal, stop it, I know the path I’ve walked, and I’ve made sure all can see the mistakes of others. And before you jump on the train headed for liar’s town, I’m no hypocrite. I’m no damsel in distress for you to come rescue, Maxie, sweet kindhearted Maxie, don’t think pulling off the gloves after the bell will be enough.
While you, like the snipers in Dallas, hide as you line up your shot, I stand naked in full view. I put myself in front of the world in hopes of shielding them from the addicting injections of submission that society would have them take. Look around Maxie, Journal, everyone, fear spewed haphazardly, doing their best to insight another race war. And yet here we stand Maxie, fighting over a chance, A CHANCE, at a case that may change our lives. Do you trust management Maxie? I don’t, and I know the value of a case, seeing as I’ve one before in another company. Journal, what was in one of the cases I fought so hard for? A pink slip? Why would management ever do that? Don’t think too long Maxie, it may hurt that innocent little brain of yours.
Here we stand in a squared circle, on the edge of glory, posed to grasp it and yet only management knows what we are fighting for. Seems totally fair and not a trap, right Journal? What about you Maxie? Think you got what it takes, to not only tame the crazy, but go on to face Strife, Saint, and Massey in a multi man match where your track record is less than shit? Potential sure, Journal, the guy has spunk and the ability to show up when needed, but in practice I see him as all talk with little substance. Opps did I type that up for the world to read? My bad
I should point out Maxie, that I wanted Strife and Fury to take care of this little event. They were suppose to be more than enough to take care of claiming whatever petty prize management hid inside the case. And I stand by my sisters, though Fury has had ill news befall her, that doesn’t mean I’ve lost faith in Strife. You may look at this chance as a way to jump and grab the brass ring that will pull you to stardom. I hope so. I do Journal, I really do. Because it’ll be that much sweeter watching you get carted out of the arena with your place in question because of how broken I leave you.
Maxwell, boy scout, dreamer, hope filled, Maxwell. Do not be the sheep that is lead to the slaughter. Look at the writing on the walls as the blood drips from the fresh message. Run and live to fight another day. Six officers didn’t have such a warning, and now tears will be shed as their families are informed that Daddy or Mommy won’t be coming home. I noticed you’re single, so would you like to me send a note to your parents? A friend perhaps, that way you’re not alone in the hospital.
You may be asking what shooting I’m referring to, and it’s okay Maxie. I understand you staying away from the fear inducing news that pollutes our society with hate speak, conspiracies, and distrust. Someone like you probably is more of an action or drama viewer, nothing wrong with that, right Journal? Well yes, Maxie is a guy. Okay fair point maybe not dramas but it’s the idea that someone as good natured as himself would watch something that makes him feel all warm and fuzzy. Not the point though. During a Black Lives Matter protest of police brutality a sniper opened fire on the very officers watching the protest to make sure the protesters first amendment rights were protected. And you know what they did Maxie? Journal, get this, the officers made sure to get the protesters to safety giving the sniper time to kill six, and wound eight, if I remember correctly. No need for fact checking considering those that read this are more interested in my message than the actual numbers.
See Maxie, I see you as one of the cops. Here for the every man. The guy that just wants to put on a good show and have everyone get along. Sure you’ll do what you have to when the time comes, but at your core, you’re a good guy. And I don’t want to take that away from the VoW fans. I don’t, Journal don’t you start, because they need heroes like you and Kattie that even when the darkness comes, still cling to hope and light. May seem odd but remember Maxie, I’m an agent of Chaos. You know the thing about Chaos, it’s fair. Champion or rookie, silverspoon or from the streets, Chaos embraces and torments all. It’s simple Maxie, you want to go about with your plan riding the rails to the station, like everyone else. I look at the tracks and don’t go either direction. You know why Maxie? Because as long as you’re on the tracks, forward or backwards, you’re theirs.
You want what’s best for the kids, you want to bring smiles, and fight with integrity. Go ahead, my war isn’t with you, it’s with management. But unlike Zahara and Datura, I’m not going to congratulate you on a victory before hand. No, sorry Maxie, I will congratulate you on surviving. You see, I can’t kill you without risking being sent away. And I don’t like maximum security asylums. I don’t know about you but they’re not for me. So I won’t kill you, but I will use your body as paper while I reaffirm my message to management in your blood, bruises, and pain. This won’t be a match, Maxie, that would imply I plan on letting the bell ring. I’m not. Still no intention of wrestling or performing for the puppet masters pulling our strings. No I swore I wouldn’t compete seriously without Emma by my side. And if I am anything I’m a woman of my word.
So no hard feelings. I look forward to no seeing you, because I hope you listen and don’t show up. And yet, if you do I’m not sure I’ll be able to contain my excitement. I can’t wait to eat you up and paint the ring with you. Let’s dance Maxie, not a waltz or a salsa, I’m thinking a tango. Where we can express the passion and longing we have for the world. You wanting to show how good it can be, how innocent and sweet, random acts of kindness can help. And me your dance partner cutting you open with my nails as you spin me around trying to delay the next cut, hoping I’m merely bluffing. I didn’t bluff with Zahara, Datura, or Constance. What makes you think you’re luckier than those women? See you or not at Breakthrough Maxie, I’ll bring my dancing shoes.
