Post by Pax Stormcrow on Sept 23, 2023 6:01:43 GMT
Pax sat in the tent for those waiting to speak, listening to the distant garbled sound of the loudspeaker playing over the noise of the crowd. It was a local end of summer festival and a local politician decided it would be a good place to stump for his county chair. Quite frankly, Pax would have preferred to be anywhere else than at some fair with bad food, ill tempered people and pointless political statements. But unfortunately, Prairie Fiber pulled one of their required showings.
This wasn’t even just an appearance. They wanted him to actually go out there and speak for this particular bozo. He wasn’t particularly bad, as far as these self important country politicians go. But to be honest Pax just didn’t care. He didn’t live in the county. But since they were still trying to get the approvals to lay fiber down so here they were. At least they had given him some cliff notes for what to say, and he was allowed to say it in his voice. But he couldn’t help but feel like he was just parroting out someone else's talking points.
Once again, he felt the guilt rise up in him. He knew going in that a sponsorship deal would not be ideal. He would be called upon to do things. He knew that in his brain. But now that he was out here, forced to parrot out someone else’s words? Twisted and manipulated to be used as someone’s mouthpiece? He hated the way that it made him feel.
It wasn’t as if the sponsorship didn’t come with its benefits. Internet service alone would transform the lives of his community. But there were also plans in place for upgrading roads, electricity, and phone lines. Hell, they built a state of the art gym that was free to use for anyone with a tribal ID. Plus, he couldn’t turn down the money he got from other deals, and his own training budget was mostly covered.
Somehow though, that seemed to make it feel worse. He’d heard the whispers. There weren’t a lot. Not yet. But were they wrong? Maybe he had sold out? He tried to sit and tell himself that he wasn’t doing it for himself. He was doing it for his people. But was he not also benefiting from it? He won the Heir to the Throne and earned his second shot at the title. But surely that was from his own newfound drive. From his new purpose. It had nothing to do with this deal he signed.
Right?
“Mr. Stormcrow? It’s just about your cue.”
“Right, OK. I’m on my way.”
—---------------
Pax climbed down the stairs behind the barrier they had set up on their impromptu outdoor stage as the crowd was chanting the politicians name and his as well. He grimaced slightly and shook his head. He was a local. The people had every right to be his fans as anyone else. But the history of problems between the Reservation was older then he was. It was hard for him to stomach the idea that they would cheer his name while remembering the few times he had been chased down the road by people just like those in the crowd that cheered for him. Just another lie.
He approached one of the aides that organized this shindig and got their attention.
“Hey, am I free to go?”
“No, not yet. Mr. Albrek is slated to do the final speech and then they will want to do some photo ops. You probably got about a half hour.”
Pax nodded, doing his best to keep his frustration from showing on his face. This had already taken longer than he had expected and he was starving. He gave a shake of his head and started making his way towards the food trucks. Guess today was a cheat day.
Twenty minutes later he was back in the tent with a Hot dog and a glass of apple cider. He had gotten delayed by a few fans that wanted photo ops. Normally that would be fine, but it didn’t bring him the usual joy that it often did.
Truth was, he felt like he was trapped in some dark hole. Shoved into some mold where he didn’t fit and they were hammering his body down to make it fit. Turning him into their idealized little puppet. He could almost feel the strings tightening around him.
He picked up his phone, tapping out a message to his lawyer. He’d get together with them and maybe they could sort out a way to ease this contract. He still felt devoted to the partnership. But he wanted to do it his way. It was a long shot he knew, but he had to do something. Even if it was a long shot.
“Mr. Stormcrow, they are ready for you now.”
But until then, he was their puppet. But maybe, just maybe, he could hope to cut the strings they had on him. He could at least hope. They couldn’t take that away from him.
~_~
The vlog opens up as it usually does, though this time is clearly from the non descript furnishings of a hotel room. Pax is leaning back in his chair, idly spinning in place.
“Neechi’s it’s ya boi, coming to you hot off my Heir to the Throne win. I went through the entire tournament undefeated. I beat Angel Blake. I beat Wraith. I did what everyone said I wouldn’t be able to do.”
He is silent for a moment, still spinning in the chair. But then he stops his momentum and rests his forearms on the desk in front of the laptop.
“But that’s not exactly true, is it? The common thread from all of my opponents? Was that I would choke. That I would reach the summit and I would fall apart. Sure, they all said I was going to do that in front of them and each and every one of them ended up choking on this words as they stared at the arena lights from their backs.”
Exhaling a breath, he clasps his hands in front of himself and leans his forehead against them. He is silent for a long moment, clearly lost in thought.
“So of course now here I am at Legacy with my shot at the title. But that expectation still hangs over my head. Because if I go in there and fail to get the title? They will all sit back and laugh. Talking about how they were right. That I can’t stand under the brightest lights. Never mind that I kicked the shit out of each and every one of them.”
Shaking his head with an angry snort, Pax slams his hand on the table.
“It’s enough to drive a man crazy. It doesn’t matter what I do, everyone likes to talk like they know who the fuck I am. On any given day I can out wrestle anyone in this whole damn company. But everyone sits back chortling when I have the simplest setback. And right now? I’m facing Dean, Fucking, Harper.”
He falls back into his chair and stares up at the ceiling as the counter ticks off the seconds in silence. His hand opens and closes into a fist as he dwells on his thoughts.
“Angel Blake has stood like a dark fucking spectre over this company. Roberto Verona built this whole damn place with his own two hands. Wraith is a sadistic little shit. But few people have had the impact that Dean Harper has had. Since he joined the IWF he has been a force of fucking nature. He has ended countless careers. Fuck, he ended Spike Kane’s fucking life. People talk a lot about not caring about if they survive the match but Dean Harper lives that shit. But truly the scariest thing about him? The thing that honest to god chills my blood? He stepped through these doors without an ounce of training. He was a frickin Intern and now he is one of the most terrifying people to step into the ring with.”
Pax leans forward and runs a hand over his buzzed short hair. He looks off to one side of the camera and shakes his head.
“I am bigger than him. I am stronger than him. I can bend him into a pretzel and throw his body around the ring all day long. But that only matters so much when that twisted little twink drinks up the pain and asks for more. It is truly a daunting task stepping into the ring with someone where you know that you may very well have to hospitalize them just to get them to stop.”
He scrubs his hand over his face, letting out a wordless noise of frustration before he smacks his head into the desk.
“Can I beat him? Absolutely. But I know full well that this is going to be one of the most hellacious matches of my career. This twisted little bastard may hospitalize me. I am well aware of that fact. I am walkin with my eyes open and prepared to have the fight of my life here. Don’t get it twisted. So now let me talk to you, Dean.”
The camera angle shifts as he reaches out to adjust his laptop before leaning forward. He lets out a breath and stares deeply into the camera.
“When I got here Dean, you were already on the rise. Everyone knew you were going to be World Champion one day, and you got there. You have been an imposing force the entire time that you’ve been here. Where as me?” I did not make so great an impact.”
His body shakes with a sigh and he shrugs his shoulders.
“I’m not about to make any excuses about it. The truth is that I have slipped and fallen countless times. You started at another level then me. That’s just the facts. You were a hall of famer in your 4th year in the business. I’ve never even been on the ballot as a joke. So you might think this will be a walk in the part. Why not? Caleb Cannin did. Nick Knight did. Wraith did. Your father did.”
He leans forward, eyes burning into the camera.
“How’d that work out for them, Dean? With them flat on their back and my arm in the air, that’s where. I know full well what I am facing when I step into that ring with you, cousin. I am prepared for it. The question is if you are prepared for me? I’m not the same chump that I used to be. I got a purpose and a fire inside me that can’t be put out. You are going to have to bring every devious trick in that sick little brain of yours to put me down. I got an awful lot of people I need to shut up for good coming into this match and all that’s standing in my way is you. I’m not about to back down or fall that easily to make them eat their fucking words, Dean. Im not gonna sit here and act like you don’t know where I come from, cause I know you do. You put all your faith into your family. We are a lot alike in that way. The difference is that I put faith in the family that puts their faith in me. That supports me in being my best self. Not that twisted little branch of therapy money makers that is the Black/Docherty branch. Not some twisted fucked up cult that killed our ancestors like McDonnagh’s nonsense.”
He snorts derisively, shaking his head in disappointment.
“You are so eager for someone to tell you that they are proud of you that you don’t pay any attention to what sorta things make them proud. You’ve turned into something dark and twisted. The sort of tale we’d tell around the campfires back in the day as a cautionary tale to our children. Is there saving you? I honestly don’t know, Dean. You might just be too far gone and quite frankly it’s gonna take someone with several medical degrees to do so. That’s not my business. My business is to fight you.”My business is to stop all the bullshit that has been said about me and hold the title high above my head. It’s my time now Dean and no one, not even your twisted self is going to stand in the way of that. Cause I’ll just run you down like everyone else in this tournament. So you best get ready, Cousin. I plan to give you the fight of your life and you are going to have to kill me to stop me.
No Peace.”
He slams his computer closed, cutting the feed abruptly.
This wasn’t even just an appearance. They wanted him to actually go out there and speak for this particular bozo. He wasn’t particularly bad, as far as these self important country politicians go. But to be honest Pax just didn’t care. He didn’t live in the county. But since they were still trying to get the approvals to lay fiber down so here they were. At least they had given him some cliff notes for what to say, and he was allowed to say it in his voice. But he couldn’t help but feel like he was just parroting out someone else's talking points.
Once again, he felt the guilt rise up in him. He knew going in that a sponsorship deal would not be ideal. He would be called upon to do things. He knew that in his brain. But now that he was out here, forced to parrot out someone else’s words? Twisted and manipulated to be used as someone’s mouthpiece? He hated the way that it made him feel.
It wasn’t as if the sponsorship didn’t come with its benefits. Internet service alone would transform the lives of his community. But there were also plans in place for upgrading roads, electricity, and phone lines. Hell, they built a state of the art gym that was free to use for anyone with a tribal ID. Plus, he couldn’t turn down the money he got from other deals, and his own training budget was mostly covered.
Somehow though, that seemed to make it feel worse. He’d heard the whispers. There weren’t a lot. Not yet. But were they wrong? Maybe he had sold out? He tried to sit and tell himself that he wasn’t doing it for himself. He was doing it for his people. But was he not also benefiting from it? He won the Heir to the Throne and earned his second shot at the title. But surely that was from his own newfound drive. From his new purpose. It had nothing to do with this deal he signed.
Right?
“Mr. Stormcrow? It’s just about your cue.”
“Right, OK. I’m on my way.”
—---------------
Pax climbed down the stairs behind the barrier they had set up on their impromptu outdoor stage as the crowd was chanting the politicians name and his as well. He grimaced slightly and shook his head. He was a local. The people had every right to be his fans as anyone else. But the history of problems between the Reservation was older then he was. It was hard for him to stomach the idea that they would cheer his name while remembering the few times he had been chased down the road by people just like those in the crowd that cheered for him. Just another lie.
He approached one of the aides that organized this shindig and got their attention.
“Hey, am I free to go?”
“No, not yet. Mr. Albrek is slated to do the final speech and then they will want to do some photo ops. You probably got about a half hour.”
Pax nodded, doing his best to keep his frustration from showing on his face. This had already taken longer than he had expected and he was starving. He gave a shake of his head and started making his way towards the food trucks. Guess today was a cheat day.
Twenty minutes later he was back in the tent with a Hot dog and a glass of apple cider. He had gotten delayed by a few fans that wanted photo ops. Normally that would be fine, but it didn’t bring him the usual joy that it often did.
Truth was, he felt like he was trapped in some dark hole. Shoved into some mold where he didn’t fit and they were hammering his body down to make it fit. Turning him into their idealized little puppet. He could almost feel the strings tightening around him.
He picked up his phone, tapping out a message to his lawyer. He’d get together with them and maybe they could sort out a way to ease this contract. He still felt devoted to the partnership. But he wanted to do it his way. It was a long shot he knew, but he had to do something. Even if it was a long shot.
“Mr. Stormcrow, they are ready for you now.”
But until then, he was their puppet. But maybe, just maybe, he could hope to cut the strings they had on him. He could at least hope. They couldn’t take that away from him.
~_~
The vlog opens up as it usually does, though this time is clearly from the non descript furnishings of a hotel room. Pax is leaning back in his chair, idly spinning in place.
“Neechi’s it’s ya boi, coming to you hot off my Heir to the Throne win. I went through the entire tournament undefeated. I beat Angel Blake. I beat Wraith. I did what everyone said I wouldn’t be able to do.”
He is silent for a moment, still spinning in the chair. But then he stops his momentum and rests his forearms on the desk in front of the laptop.
“But that’s not exactly true, is it? The common thread from all of my opponents? Was that I would choke. That I would reach the summit and I would fall apart. Sure, they all said I was going to do that in front of them and each and every one of them ended up choking on this words as they stared at the arena lights from their backs.”
Exhaling a breath, he clasps his hands in front of himself and leans his forehead against them. He is silent for a long moment, clearly lost in thought.
“So of course now here I am at Legacy with my shot at the title. But that expectation still hangs over my head. Because if I go in there and fail to get the title? They will all sit back and laugh. Talking about how they were right. That I can’t stand under the brightest lights. Never mind that I kicked the shit out of each and every one of them.”
Shaking his head with an angry snort, Pax slams his hand on the table.
“It’s enough to drive a man crazy. It doesn’t matter what I do, everyone likes to talk like they know who the fuck I am. On any given day I can out wrestle anyone in this whole damn company. But everyone sits back chortling when I have the simplest setback. And right now? I’m facing Dean, Fucking, Harper.”
He falls back into his chair and stares up at the ceiling as the counter ticks off the seconds in silence. His hand opens and closes into a fist as he dwells on his thoughts.
“Angel Blake has stood like a dark fucking spectre over this company. Roberto Verona built this whole damn place with his own two hands. Wraith is a sadistic little shit. But few people have had the impact that Dean Harper has had. Since he joined the IWF he has been a force of fucking nature. He has ended countless careers. Fuck, he ended Spike Kane’s fucking life. People talk a lot about not caring about if they survive the match but Dean Harper lives that shit. But truly the scariest thing about him? The thing that honest to god chills my blood? He stepped through these doors without an ounce of training. He was a frickin Intern and now he is one of the most terrifying people to step into the ring with.”
Pax leans forward and runs a hand over his buzzed short hair. He looks off to one side of the camera and shakes his head.
“I am bigger than him. I am stronger than him. I can bend him into a pretzel and throw his body around the ring all day long. But that only matters so much when that twisted little twink drinks up the pain and asks for more. It is truly a daunting task stepping into the ring with someone where you know that you may very well have to hospitalize them just to get them to stop.”
He scrubs his hand over his face, letting out a wordless noise of frustration before he smacks his head into the desk.
“Can I beat him? Absolutely. But I know full well that this is going to be one of the most hellacious matches of my career. This twisted little bastard may hospitalize me. I am well aware of that fact. I am walkin with my eyes open and prepared to have the fight of my life here. Don’t get it twisted. So now let me talk to you, Dean.”
The camera angle shifts as he reaches out to adjust his laptop before leaning forward. He lets out a breath and stares deeply into the camera.
“When I got here Dean, you were already on the rise. Everyone knew you were going to be World Champion one day, and you got there. You have been an imposing force the entire time that you’ve been here. Where as me?” I did not make so great an impact.”
His body shakes with a sigh and he shrugs his shoulders.
“I’m not about to make any excuses about it. The truth is that I have slipped and fallen countless times. You started at another level then me. That’s just the facts. You were a hall of famer in your 4th year in the business. I’ve never even been on the ballot as a joke. So you might think this will be a walk in the part. Why not? Caleb Cannin did. Nick Knight did. Wraith did. Your father did.”
He leans forward, eyes burning into the camera.
“How’d that work out for them, Dean? With them flat on their back and my arm in the air, that’s where. I know full well what I am facing when I step into that ring with you, cousin. I am prepared for it. The question is if you are prepared for me? I’m not the same chump that I used to be. I got a purpose and a fire inside me that can’t be put out. You are going to have to bring every devious trick in that sick little brain of yours to put me down. I got an awful lot of people I need to shut up for good coming into this match and all that’s standing in my way is you. I’m not about to back down or fall that easily to make them eat their fucking words, Dean. Im not gonna sit here and act like you don’t know where I come from, cause I know you do. You put all your faith into your family. We are a lot alike in that way. The difference is that I put faith in the family that puts their faith in me. That supports me in being my best self. Not that twisted little branch of therapy money makers that is the Black/Docherty branch. Not some twisted fucked up cult that killed our ancestors like McDonnagh’s nonsense.”
He snorts derisively, shaking his head in disappointment.
“You are so eager for someone to tell you that they are proud of you that you don’t pay any attention to what sorta things make them proud. You’ve turned into something dark and twisted. The sort of tale we’d tell around the campfires back in the day as a cautionary tale to our children. Is there saving you? I honestly don’t know, Dean. You might just be too far gone and quite frankly it’s gonna take someone with several medical degrees to do so. That’s not my business. My business is to fight you.”My business is to stop all the bullshit that has been said about me and hold the title high above my head. It’s my time now Dean and no one, not even your twisted self is going to stand in the way of that. Cause I’ll just run you down like everyone else in this tournament. So you best get ready, Cousin. I plan to give you the fight of your life and you are going to have to kill me to stop me.
No Peace.”
He slams his computer closed, cutting the feed abruptly.
Well howdy there pardner.