Post by Caleb Lockwood on Mar 22, 2021 3:53:18 GMT
"The Roulette is more grueling than anyone who’s never competed in it truly realizes," Caleb sighs, shaking his head as he looks up at the bridge above him, nestled comfortably against a pillar in the underpass. "and that’s one of the things that you...really can’t prepare for. There’s no training that truly braces you for all the anguish, the toll it’ll take on you mentally and physically. Personally speaking, I love it." Caleb shrugs. "But who’s surprised by that?"
"For all the talk some people will have of forging alliances, everything is temporary. Brotherhoods dissolve, friends are eliminated, allies turn to enemies. It’s a dog-eat-dog environment, and nobody knows more about that than I do." Caleb smirks darkly. "I’d eat any of you if it meant I’d survive. There’s only one man I can even pretend to care about in this company, and he’s the one I’m fighting so hard to get my hands on. Isn’t that ironic...don’t ya think?" Caleb grins, laughing and adding a falsetto "A little tooooo...i-ronic...yeah, I really do think…"
"But far be it from me to stray into You Oughta Know territory here—yes, I know, I’m old, ha ha—when there’s so much to be done, so many places to go and people to hurt." Caleb inhales deeply through his nose. "Because for once in my life, for once since I came back to this company, I’m fighting not for a cause, not for someone I think is closer than they really are...I’ll just be fighting for myself. Is it selfish? Absolutely. But selfishness is what keeps the individual alive. If you give yourself away, give and give and give, you have nothing left. You become a shell. And that’s what I became."
Caleb runs a hand through his hair, thumb tracing along scar lines as he taps his feet against the floor. Rolling his shoulders back, he exhales through his nose and leans back against the concrete with a smile. "So I took some time away. Some time for myself. I looked inward and I saw emptiness, I saw that hungry void, the one that I had tried to fill with servitude and faith. I believed, harder than I had ever done, more than when I had been a child on the streets, praying for deliverance...and when I did what I thought had to be done, well...Angel’s still here. He’s still exactly what he was when she returned. And she has done NOTHING to answer my prayers. So I have to do it myself."
"For all you new faces?" Caleb grins a bit, rubbing his hands together. "Welcome to the crucible. Welcome to where you’ll find your endurance tested harder than it ever has been. If you get lucky and you come in late, count your blessings. If you get an early number? Know that you’re not making it out without some new scars, some new welts, stiffness in your body that just won’t go away no matter how long you soak in the bath, no matter the work the trainers do. Everyone has a finite number of times they hit that mat and bounce back up. This’ll take more of them off you than you’d ever realize."
Caleb shuffles forward a bit more, a weary look crossing his face for a moment. "I know I’ve only got so much in me. I don’t know where my gauge hits E, I don’t know how far I can still go, but I know that I’ve still got enough in me to do some real damage. I’ve got the experience to know how far you twist a limb before it snaps, I know how best to hit you to shred ligaments, tear skin, make you bleed. I’ve learned from some of the most vicious to ever step in the ring, I’ve learned from underappreciated legends, those who slipped me the high card for whenever I need it, and their lessons have not been lost on me."
"So I feel obligated, in turn, to teach you." Caleb grins a bit, running a hand through his hair. "I’ll teach you every lesson of hardship and pain that I ever learned. Every moment where I failed, in body or mind, is yours to experience. Call it my gift to the new generation, a blessing that I can pass on to all of you. Because then, you won’t have to wait twenty fucking years to learn it all. You can take it in. Internalize it. Share the gift with others. That’s the beauty of this...this curse of years." Caleb smiles again to himself, empty of joy. "It’s the gift that keeps on giving, again and again. To paraphrase an old friend of mine, I’m going to hurt you so that when the weather gets cold, you feel the ache in your tendons, because they’ve never healed right. And I know that you’ll take that as a hollow threat from an old man, a battered figure…"
Caleb stands up, spreading his arms wide with an unnatural, simultaneous popping noise from his shoulders. "But trust me, and take the word of anyone on this roster who’s ever gotten in there with me. These aren’t just words. They’re a promise. They’re a guarantee. You may survive me, you may move on after you face me...but you will never be the same man you were before you stepped in that ring." Caleb smirks. "Your blood will wash me clean...and give me the strength I need to do what I must. Born again in the crucible that is the Roulette. I’ve been waiting on my number…" Sara melts out of the shadows, handing Caleb his lead pipe, and he takes it with a grateful nod. "So luck be a lady tonight."
"For all the talk some people will have of forging alliances, everything is temporary. Brotherhoods dissolve, friends are eliminated, allies turn to enemies. It’s a dog-eat-dog environment, and nobody knows more about that than I do." Caleb smirks darkly. "I’d eat any of you if it meant I’d survive. There’s only one man I can even pretend to care about in this company, and he’s the one I’m fighting so hard to get my hands on. Isn’t that ironic...don’t ya think?" Caleb grins, laughing and adding a falsetto "A little tooooo...i-ronic...yeah, I really do think…"
"But far be it from me to stray into You Oughta Know territory here—yes, I know, I’m old, ha ha—when there’s so much to be done, so many places to go and people to hurt." Caleb inhales deeply through his nose. "Because for once in my life, for once since I came back to this company, I’m fighting not for a cause, not for someone I think is closer than they really are...I’ll just be fighting for myself. Is it selfish? Absolutely. But selfishness is what keeps the individual alive. If you give yourself away, give and give and give, you have nothing left. You become a shell. And that’s what I became."
Caleb runs a hand through his hair, thumb tracing along scar lines as he taps his feet against the floor. Rolling his shoulders back, he exhales through his nose and leans back against the concrete with a smile. "So I took some time away. Some time for myself. I looked inward and I saw emptiness, I saw that hungry void, the one that I had tried to fill with servitude and faith. I believed, harder than I had ever done, more than when I had been a child on the streets, praying for deliverance...and when I did what I thought had to be done, well...Angel’s still here. He’s still exactly what he was when she returned. And she has done NOTHING to answer my prayers. So I have to do it myself."
"For all you new faces?" Caleb grins a bit, rubbing his hands together. "Welcome to the crucible. Welcome to where you’ll find your endurance tested harder than it ever has been. If you get lucky and you come in late, count your blessings. If you get an early number? Know that you’re not making it out without some new scars, some new welts, stiffness in your body that just won’t go away no matter how long you soak in the bath, no matter the work the trainers do. Everyone has a finite number of times they hit that mat and bounce back up. This’ll take more of them off you than you’d ever realize."
Caleb shuffles forward a bit more, a weary look crossing his face for a moment. "I know I’ve only got so much in me. I don’t know where my gauge hits E, I don’t know how far I can still go, but I know that I’ve still got enough in me to do some real damage. I’ve got the experience to know how far you twist a limb before it snaps, I know how best to hit you to shred ligaments, tear skin, make you bleed. I’ve learned from some of the most vicious to ever step in the ring, I’ve learned from underappreciated legends, those who slipped me the high card for whenever I need it, and their lessons have not been lost on me."
"So I feel obligated, in turn, to teach you." Caleb grins a bit, running a hand through his hair. "I’ll teach you every lesson of hardship and pain that I ever learned. Every moment where I failed, in body or mind, is yours to experience. Call it my gift to the new generation, a blessing that I can pass on to all of you. Because then, you won’t have to wait twenty fucking years to learn it all. You can take it in. Internalize it. Share the gift with others. That’s the beauty of this...this curse of years." Caleb smiles again to himself, empty of joy. "It’s the gift that keeps on giving, again and again. To paraphrase an old friend of mine, I’m going to hurt you so that when the weather gets cold, you feel the ache in your tendons, because they’ve never healed right. And I know that you’ll take that as a hollow threat from an old man, a battered figure…"
Caleb stands up, spreading his arms wide with an unnatural, simultaneous popping noise from his shoulders. "But trust me, and take the word of anyone on this roster who’s ever gotten in there with me. These aren’t just words. They’re a promise. They’re a guarantee. You may survive me, you may move on after you face me...but you will never be the same man you were before you stepped in that ring." Caleb smirks. "Your blood will wash me clean...and give me the strength I need to do what I must. Born again in the crucible that is the Roulette. I’ve been waiting on my number…" Sara melts out of the shadows, handing Caleb his lead pipe, and he takes it with a grateful nod. "So luck be a lady tonight."
Well howdy there pardner.