Post by Cera on May 22, 2015 14:00:08 GMT -6
...Faking It...
The truth is boring. That's why we blow things out of proportion. That's why we exaggerate. That's why we... bullshit... people. Now, let's be blunt for a moment here: most people can't really comprehend truth anyway. It doesn't register... or, they just don't want to register it; whether that be because of shame, self-defense or mere melancholy. And so we pick the lie we like the best and go with it. Mold ourselves with it...
Because everyone's a liar, kids.
Of course, many lies are justified. Lies told out of kindness. To preserve dignity. Spare pain. We lie for the good of the world, for the good of those we love, while also proclaiming the righteousness of truth. The reality of the situation is... truth, like a lion, does not need to be defended. It can defend itself, once let loose. And those who fail to grasp it, as well as those who pretend to understand it...
...will fall to their knees.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
"Transparent."
I stared ahead, my walk steady, my cold eyes never faltering. Dust was kicked up with each step I took, and small noises were heard here and there from above ground. We were somewhere underneath New York City... and it was hot. So fucking hot. Beads of sweat trailed down my neck, trickling over my chest to my cleavage. Immediately two sets of eyes locked on there, and I couldn't really blame them. The shredded tanktop I wore didn't leave much to the imagination...
"What's transexual, Cera Burr?" my manager, Jen Ryette, asked dazedly... her dark eyes still hovering over my chest.
"She said transparent, you idiot." another voice, exceedingly deeper (and potentially bitchier), mumbled. Brett Carson, this week's 'partner in crime', strolled along next to me... shirt off, of course.
It was about late 70s outside in New York City that day, which meant the subway systems were around the 90s if not nearly 100 degrees. Chalk it up to poor ventilation and 'heat sink' (where heat from the above sidewalks and buildings sinks to the subways). It was uncomfortable. It was tiring. And, at least to Brett... it was pointless.
"Cera, can you just get to the damned point of all this so we can get into some air conditioning?" Brett used the shirt he had been wearing to wipe some sweat from his brow, as I glanced him over once, smirked and continued my previous thought...
"They're transparent."
"Who? Reya and Rayne? Well no shit."
"...now now, Brett, no need to be so hostile."
"I'm standing, with two of the most annoying people in this city, in a somewhat secret underground subway that hasn't been used in god knows how long, where the temperature's gotta be reaching almost 100 degrees. It's dirty, dark and who the hell knows what kind of animals might be down here just waiting to give me some kind of diseases. This place is not good for the clean bill of health I'm trying to uphold. It isn't fucking easy looking this godly--- are you even listening to me?!"
I had begun walking again as Brett was ranting, and I glanced over my shoulder at him lazily. "Hm? Oh, sorry. I forgot you were here for a moment."
"Wha-- how?! You're the one who invited me down in this hellhole to get heatstroke with you!"
"What? No, you invited me down here."
We stared at each other for a moment, before both of us slowly turned our gazes to Jen... or at least, where Jen should have been. But instead, a piece of paper lay in her place, and I walked over to pick it up... to see a blown up picture of Ryette giving us a peace sign and winking. I stared at it for a moment, before turning it over to see "U guys should talk about UR fotg adventures while youre down here! ♪(๑ᴖ◡ᴖ๑)♪ Or anything else you wanna do, I wont miiind (*థ౪థ)" scribbled in crayon.
"......."
Brett came up behind me and read it as well.
"....... WHAT THE HELL KIND OF BULLSHIT IS THIS?!"
He grabbed the note and violently crumpled it up, before throwing it on the ground and stomping on it repeatedly. I watched him in amusement, noting that some people got angry when overheating. Me? I got... careless. "You're overreacting Brett."
"Overreacting?! Okay, Cera, tell me... how do we get out of here?"
I stared at him for a second, before glancing around. "Oh. I dunno."
"You don't..... great. We're fucked."
"Actually, that's what Jen wants us to do." I murmured, and he looked over at me as I walked in a circle for a second, paused, and slapped the left side of my head. "Okay. Focus."
"The heat isn't doing either of us any good..." My partner responded with a sigh, before pointing down the way the rail was going. "So your stupid manager said something about how this track was used as a secret passageway of sorts, underneath the Waldorf-Astoria place, and we weren't that far from that place. So if we follow this down, we'll eventually get to an exit, right?"
"I'd assume so."
"The let's go." He pushed past me and started following the track down, as I ran a hand through my now messy hair and sighed. Following him down, I decided to push the conversation anyway...
"We might as well decide how we're going to approach this week."
"Can't we do that when we get out of here? In A/C... while eating..."
"Are you saying you want to grab dinner after this, Brett? Asking me on a date?" I grinned deviously, falling into step with him. My partner of the week looked at me, before making a face.
"I'm not really in the mood for fish."
"Good thing I'm closer to what you'd find in a bar."
"Yeah, a sushi bar."
"I don't want to hear anything from someone who looks like he belongs in the fucking Jersey Shore."
"MY TAN IS NATURAL DAMMIT. I keep my body toned with running, you b-"
CRASH!
We stopped arguing when we heard a loud noise in the far distance, followed by some voices. Without hesitation, I casually flipped my knife out from the sheath on my side. I always made sure to keep myself protected in cases like this. With blade in hand, our saunter continued in silence for but a minute, before I piped up again.
"Anyway... any ideas?"
"Do we need any?" Brett questioned with a roll of his eyes. "C'mon, Cera. We both know that the two of us are a million times more talented than those two. My strength. Your speed. We're practically unstoppable. Well, as long as you don't get in my way in the ring."
"Same to you." I lifted my arms to fold them behind my head casually, knife still in one hand, as I continued slowly, "I do agree that Reya and Rayne don't exactly have the, ah... talent... or ability... that we do. Brute force I see Rayne having more than Reya. Especially considering how... personal... this is for her."
"Please. I made Rayne's life a living hell with--"
"One of these?" I pulled out a cigarette, twirling it in my fingers, as Carson smirked slightly.
"Yep. Proof of her weakness. Once upon a time she resorted to this... cancer stick... as a means to deal her problems. Like a lot of people, she couldn't face them head on. Weakness." His smirk faded as I casually pulled out my lighter and flipped it, lighting up the cigarette and casually taking a drag. "Not to mention... the little goth girl couldn't make it as 'RDO', so she decided to take up a different persona... as an oriental failure, no less. Sakura Kanashimino... ha, what a joke."
"Even the name was trying too hard." I murmured with a shake of my head, before narrowing my eyes. "Rayne and I have been butting heads for a long time. And I think we always will, because of our mutual ties with..."
"Reya Serra." Brett said my sister's name with such venom in his voice, that even I flinched. "She doesn't belong in this world. The wrestling one... or hell, even the real one. The sensitivity, the politeness... the innocent mindset. She's just trying to jam a triangle block into an oval-shaped hole. It's impossible to change the world. The backstabbing, hate-filled world... the brutal world of wrestling... are places she has no right to be in."
"And you and I do, then?"
"I just got my first main event win against Valquist, who's just like Reya. Your sister preaches the word of 'God' to everyone, yet it seems like she's losing faith in everything that's been destined to line up for her. The chances she's had. The people she's been associated with." He scowled slightly, glaring over at me. "She's a loss of family blood. Look at what you and Vanessa have accomplished in comparison. Look at the shit you've done, and then what she has, and tell me she's not insulting your family name."
"I don't have a family name." I replied curtly, teeth clenching. He paused a moment, before shrugging a shoulder.
"Nonetheless, you share blood. And her's is curdling."
"Reya has a strength I don't think you understand, Brett. Rayne as well. Their faith, their outlooks... their desire to prove so much..."
"Are you defending our opponents?" We turned a corner, as Brett was staring at me incredulously. With an eyeroll of my own, I responded nonchalantly,
"I'm saying that those two are close-knit, and have reason to kick the shit out of us. Our reasons mostly lie with just proving that we're better. Problem is... we've done that already. Time and time again. We've both had victories over either of our opponents. But don't underestimate the weak when they band together with a like-minded purpose. Moving mountains is easy when there's fire in your eyes."
"So we fight fire with fire. I'm not gonna be the one to get burned at Fate of the Gods."
"Neither am I." I smirked and finally lowered my arms, eyes flashing mischievously, "Truth of the matter is... heroes are only heroes if there's a war. But the war has been won, and they're just grasping for straws among gunpowder. The wounded warrior act is a blatant lie. And you can't garner sympathy if people are starting to realize this. Reya and Rayne...? They're no heroes. Of course, they won't admit it; that there's a darkness to them just as there's a light to us. Nonetheless... right now? They're the rebels in times of peace. And they need to be put to rest..."
My voice trailed off there, as I noticed movement ahead of us, where an abandoned subway train lay dormant. Brett was about to respond to me, when a seemingly vicious shout escaped the train, and we both tensed up. Eyes raking over the shadows passing the windows of the broken down car, I took in a breath and thought that perhaps this was instant karma... the lies I spouted and mixed feelings I presented. The God complex we both had, despite knowing that we're the ones who will rot in Hell... whether it be within the ashes or upon thrones.....
"What was..." Brett started, his muscles tightening as if he was preparing to fight. But as his own sentence trailed off, I caught it and closed my eyes tiredly, whispering...
"...I think we got on the wrong track..."
Eventually you have to realize... you're the Devil just as much as you are God.
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~This has been a V rp, thanx for reading and have a great f*cking day!~