Sensory Deprivation Series, Part 2: "The Den of Deprivation"
Jul 28, 2016 19:38:29 GMT -6
English/Corpse likes this
Post by - The Hardcore Hero on Jul 28, 2016 19:38:29 GMT -6
*REC
Sitting cross legged in front of the sensory deprivation tank, the camera perched at a high angle in the right hand corner of the conservatory. Soaked hair, droplets of water running down my bare back, the waistline of my trunks absorbing them upon first touch. A deep breath - a blank stare into the abyss of the open tank.
“Why Seth Iser?” I mutter, no change in expression.
Legs unfold, I rise to one knee, one hand on the ledge of the hatch. Free hand reaches in, two fingers grazing the surface of the water inside. After inspecting my dampened fingers, I rub them against my trunks, barely adding to the already saturated material.
“I thought that the answer would be within the water...I was mistaken. So many hours but no results. I’ve been with VoW for a little under a year now and not once has my path crossed with Seth Iser’s. As some would consider this luck, I choose to believe that up until now, it was just never the right time. However, that doesn’t answer why now is the right time...for what purpose does fate have, gracing me this match with a man that is more of a veteran in the wrestling business than I myself? For what reason does destiny demand I go toe to toe with the deity himself?”
I turn, leaning up against the tank, eyes darting around for answers in the most hopeless of places - the ceiling, the window ledges, the mousehole in the corner. The expectancy of ideas to pop into my head is most ambitious but I would not need of such ambition if there was no confusion to face. However, sometimes acts of pure, senseless ambition can locate the things you’re after.
“Maybe management just needs for him to have a good sparring partner, seeing as the event will take place in his home town...or, perhaps the answer lies right there in the nickname…”
A dusty, old browned book with a half torn spine catches my attention from what would seem as the strangest of places for a dusty, old browned book to be but fate has a funny way of presenting us with the things that are of our best interest at the best of times. One step, two steps, three steps, four - upon opening the book it becomes apparent that it’s a dictionary designed from somewhere between the first and second world wars.
“Here it is.” I announce before clearing my throat. “Deity - a god or goddess worshipped by people who believe it controls or exerts force over some aspect of the world…
“The perfect self-proclamation...is there a single word in the english language that could be more fitting of a definition for Seth Iser? The answer is no. There is not. You see...everywhere Iser goes he becomes just that...a deity. People from all over worship him because of his ability to make them believe things against what their common beliefs might typically be...his rivalry with Matt Slater, for one...I’ve already heard of people changing sides, first being apart of Team Slater and transitioning over to that of Team Iser with no real reasoning behind the act. Iser can say or do anything and within an instant you’ll find yourself supporting him, watching his every move in nothing but awe.”
The dictionary is shut and placed back down to where it had previously sat, exact positioning, not an inch of difference. My eyes glance up at the camera before I make way over to the window, the serenity of Mike’s yard offering the perfect viewing experience, one that the camera has no choice but to miss out on.
“But I’m left here, wondering if this seemingly natural ability of Iser’s is not what I’ve always imagined it as...I’m left here wondering, if it is not natural ability but indeed carefully planned manipulation...although Seth Iser’s never exactly been one to rely on the support of the fans maybe that’s why he has so many...these people, maybe they flock to him as a result of reverse psychology...Iser acts like he doesn’t give a damn so that they do…
“Perhaps I’m looking too far into it but now that I’ve actually taken the time to think it through...I see it clearly...I can look back on all those promos and matches of Iser’s that I’ve watched and I can see them in a whole different light. Does this taint the respect I have for him? No, not in the slightest...if anything it causes me to admire his intelligence even more...it proves that he is in fact the deity he says he is.”
My reflection stares back at me, the curve of a smirk pushing its way to becoming the most noticeable thing on my face, attempting to surpass that of the eyes filled with determination just below the forehead.
“The Hardcore Hero vs. The Deity...a story told in different variations and forms since time immemorial...the tale of hero vs. god, or divine nature is something of legend but will be lived here, in reality, at Breakthrough 49. Yes, now I see it...management wishes to construct its own re-telling of an instant classic that dates back to before people even knew how to bathe properly…
“There have been many a battle like this one, Perseus and Medusa, Odysseus and Polyphemus, even David and Goliath. However, do you know what the one common factor all these battles share? The fact that the hero wins them all...something that will be no different this time around.
So, I need you to know something, Iser…”
With a turn, I dawdle towards the camera, staring daggers at the lens.
“Lately, my attention has been dead set on my old friend, dead set on the curse that ruined our brotherhood with no remorse...but I will not let any of that stand in the way of our blockbuster to come, Iser. The moment that bell rings, the moment we lock horns, is the moment that any other issues I currently face are temporarily thrown away. Only when our bout comes to an end will I retain my focus towards the war awaiting me at Heatstroke. Normally, I wouldn’t do such thing for just anybody...but you’re not just anybody, are you Seth? You’re somebody I’ve looked up to for quite some time and I look forward to being able to tell my son, to being able to tell the world that I have a victory against you under my belt. See you out there, Iser and most importantly…
...good luck.”
Mike bursts into the conservatory, I turn upon his arrival, he has an abundance of shopping bags in each hand.
“I take one damn trip the supermarket and you make my freakin’ conservatory your own personal den?! For fuck sake, Heath! Boundaries, man! B-O-U-N-D-A-R-I-E-S! BOUNDARIES!” His eyes wander over to the dictionary. “And is that my mother’s dictionary?! Jesus, Heath! That’s a precious family heirloom! I’m meant to be giving that to my kids one day, you know, if I have any...which I probably won’t because I’m getting along in years but that’s besides the point!”
Mike paces over to the dictionary, swiping it up with swift claws, disapproving shake of the head before storming out. Unfazed, I turn back to the camera.
“Embrace the anarchy.”
With a wink, I reach over and the recording comes to an end.
Sitting cross legged in front of the sensory deprivation tank, the camera perched at a high angle in the right hand corner of the conservatory. Soaked hair, droplets of water running down my bare back, the waistline of my trunks absorbing them upon first touch. A deep breath - a blank stare into the abyss of the open tank.
“Why Seth Iser?” I mutter, no change in expression.
Legs unfold, I rise to one knee, one hand on the ledge of the hatch. Free hand reaches in, two fingers grazing the surface of the water inside. After inspecting my dampened fingers, I rub them against my trunks, barely adding to the already saturated material.
“I thought that the answer would be within the water...I was mistaken. So many hours but no results. I’ve been with VoW for a little under a year now and not once has my path crossed with Seth Iser’s. As some would consider this luck, I choose to believe that up until now, it was just never the right time. However, that doesn’t answer why now is the right time...for what purpose does fate have, gracing me this match with a man that is more of a veteran in the wrestling business than I myself? For what reason does destiny demand I go toe to toe with the deity himself?”
I turn, leaning up against the tank, eyes darting around for answers in the most hopeless of places - the ceiling, the window ledges, the mousehole in the corner. The expectancy of ideas to pop into my head is most ambitious but I would not need of such ambition if there was no confusion to face. However, sometimes acts of pure, senseless ambition can locate the things you’re after.
“Maybe management just needs for him to have a good sparring partner, seeing as the event will take place in his home town...or, perhaps the answer lies right there in the nickname…”
A dusty, old browned book with a half torn spine catches my attention from what would seem as the strangest of places for a dusty, old browned book to be but fate has a funny way of presenting us with the things that are of our best interest at the best of times. One step, two steps, three steps, four - upon opening the book it becomes apparent that it’s a dictionary designed from somewhere between the first and second world wars.
“Here it is.” I announce before clearing my throat. “Deity - a god or goddess worshipped by people who believe it controls or exerts force over some aspect of the world…
“The perfect self-proclamation...is there a single word in the english language that could be more fitting of a definition for Seth Iser? The answer is no. There is not. You see...everywhere Iser goes he becomes just that...a deity. People from all over worship him because of his ability to make them believe things against what their common beliefs might typically be...his rivalry with Matt Slater, for one...I’ve already heard of people changing sides, first being apart of Team Slater and transitioning over to that of Team Iser with no real reasoning behind the act. Iser can say or do anything and within an instant you’ll find yourself supporting him, watching his every move in nothing but awe.”
The dictionary is shut and placed back down to where it had previously sat, exact positioning, not an inch of difference. My eyes glance up at the camera before I make way over to the window, the serenity of Mike’s yard offering the perfect viewing experience, one that the camera has no choice but to miss out on.
“But I’m left here, wondering if this seemingly natural ability of Iser’s is not what I’ve always imagined it as...I’m left here wondering, if it is not natural ability but indeed carefully planned manipulation...although Seth Iser’s never exactly been one to rely on the support of the fans maybe that’s why he has so many...these people, maybe they flock to him as a result of reverse psychology...Iser acts like he doesn’t give a damn so that they do…
“Perhaps I’m looking too far into it but now that I’ve actually taken the time to think it through...I see it clearly...I can look back on all those promos and matches of Iser’s that I’ve watched and I can see them in a whole different light. Does this taint the respect I have for him? No, not in the slightest...if anything it causes me to admire his intelligence even more...it proves that he is in fact the deity he says he is.”
My reflection stares back at me, the curve of a smirk pushing its way to becoming the most noticeable thing on my face, attempting to surpass that of the eyes filled with determination just below the forehead.
“The Hardcore Hero vs. The Deity...a story told in different variations and forms since time immemorial...the tale of hero vs. god, or divine nature is something of legend but will be lived here, in reality, at Breakthrough 49. Yes, now I see it...management wishes to construct its own re-telling of an instant classic that dates back to before people even knew how to bathe properly…
“There have been many a battle like this one, Perseus and Medusa, Odysseus and Polyphemus, even David and Goliath. However, do you know what the one common factor all these battles share? The fact that the hero wins them all...something that will be no different this time around.
So, I need you to know something, Iser…”
With a turn, I dawdle towards the camera, staring daggers at the lens.
“Lately, my attention has been dead set on my old friend, dead set on the curse that ruined our brotherhood with no remorse...but I will not let any of that stand in the way of our blockbuster to come, Iser. The moment that bell rings, the moment we lock horns, is the moment that any other issues I currently face are temporarily thrown away. Only when our bout comes to an end will I retain my focus towards the war awaiting me at Heatstroke. Normally, I wouldn’t do such thing for just anybody...but you’re not just anybody, are you Seth? You’re somebody I’ve looked up to for quite some time and I look forward to being able to tell my son, to being able to tell the world that I have a victory against you under my belt. See you out there, Iser and most importantly…
...good luck.”
Mike bursts into the conservatory, I turn upon his arrival, he has an abundance of shopping bags in each hand.
“I take one damn trip the supermarket and you make my freakin’ conservatory your own personal den?! For fuck sake, Heath! Boundaries, man! B-O-U-N-D-A-R-I-E-S! BOUNDARIES!” His eyes wander over to the dictionary. “And is that my mother’s dictionary?! Jesus, Heath! That’s a precious family heirloom! I’m meant to be giving that to my kids one day, you know, if I have any...which I probably won’t because I’m getting along in years but that’s besides the point!”
Mike paces over to the dictionary, swiping it up with swift claws, disapproving shake of the head before storming out. Unfazed, I turn back to the camera.
“Embrace the anarchy.”
With a wink, I reach over and the recording comes to an end.
