Post by Sabin / Madjinn on Mar 27, 2024 15:23:42 GMT
"I just need to run in there for a few minutes. I hope my license fell out the other night. I can't believe I fucking lost it," she tells Sabin, a little flustered.
"I know how you feel about Stephen, and I know how he feels about you. I hear that shit every time I bring your name up. But if you want to come, you can. I don't want you to feel like I don't want you to come inside with me. Stephen and Portia are in the city tonight anyway, and we'll be gone by the time they get back."
Sabin takes a deep breath, uneasy about stepping into the establishment, “Are you sure?” he asks.
Brandy takes his hand in hers, to try to reassure him. "Yeah. If anyone says anything, I'll deal with it. I want you to come. It's always been weird to me that the two of you hate each other so much anyway. You're both more alike than you think, but maybe that's just it." She gives a half shrug.
Sabin scoffs at the comment of them being alike, but he still sports a half-smile, “I can assure you that I am nothing like him.” He says rather defensively, and he snickers while thinking back to all the times that he had been told something along those lines. He nods his head, turning his bright blue eyes toward his girlfriend and now in his own act of reassurance to her, continues, “I’ll go with you.”
"Okay," she says, perhaps an unconvinced answer to Sabin's assertion that he was nothing like Stephen, meant to keep from pressing the topic; or a simple acknowledgement of the fact that he would come, which made her happier than she would let on. "Let's go."
Brandy unlocks her hand from his, and gives the door handle on her side a tug. After getting out of the car, she waits for Sabin to make his way around to her side of the vehicle. They lock hands once more, stirring up dust as they walk across the desert floor toward the entryway to the "Black Sands".
The bouncer standing at the door greets her before giving Sabin a glance. "Brandy, is that-"
"Yeah, it is." She cuts the man off. "It's fine. He's with me, and we're only going to be here a few minutes."
The man raises his hand, trying to protest. He can feel the heat of Sabin's eyes upon him, but continues to try to talk Brandy out of this idea. "Brandy, you should-"
"Look, if anyone asks, I'll say you took a piss break and I snuck him in. Don't worry about it," Brandy tells the bouncer. "Just move."
The bouncer lowers his head, not daring to argue with Brandy. He steps aside, and Brandy takes the lead as they both brush past the bouncer and Sabin gives him a side glance with the Docherty smirk proudly displayed. The music is loud inside and both Sabin and Brandy weave their way in-between the guests.
“Nice, isn’t it?” Brandy asks, shooting a glance over her shoulder at him.
“Seems like a good place for him to hide from me,” Sabin says with a certain arrogance on his tongue, “He seems to like to find a way out of being trapped in the ring with me. For good reason.”
Brandy doesn't offer up much in the way of a response, preferring to let the comments slide. As they near the bar, she motions for the bartender. "Krystal, is my ID here?"
The young woman reaches underneath the counter, retrieving the license. "Yeah, they found it on the floor when they were cleaning the other night, hun."
"Thanks," Brandy says, tucking the card into her cleavage. "Do me a favor, don't mention I was here. I just wanted to grab this."
Krystal looks perplexed, and Brandy doesn't care to offer up much of an explanation in regard to her request. Brandy and Sabin turn to leave, only to find Stephen Terrella standing behind them.
Cut to black.
The scenery fades inside of an ever familiar setting for the current double champion of the IWF… The man, the monster, stands front and center with a sly smile on his face, and both titles around him. The IWF World Television Championship sits above the tag team title. A ladder is positioned in front of him, and something hangs over the ladder – a shield. It dangles as if suspended by thin air. His gaze never breaks with the camera before finally speaking.
“The ladder has been synonymous with your career, Nick Danger. It has been something that has–” his eyes shift upward, gazing at the shield that dangles, “–provided hope for you. Hope that you could pick yourself up from the shambles of your career and be… better… And every time–” his hands trace the edges of the ladder before placing his first foot onto the bottom ring, and slowly, he ascends, with the camera angle opposite of him acting as if you were witnessing it through the eyes of Nick Danger, “–you take one step up, every time you get one step closer to your goal, and you’re almost in reach…” Now at the top of the ladder, Sabin stands tall and stretches his fingers toward the shield, “But you stumble.”
The camera falls backward, looking up at Sabin who cracks his neck before finally pulling the shield from the sky. He goes down the ladder, and stands over the camera before slamming the shield down, and crosses his arms across the top of it, resting his head down while still looking toward the downed audience, “You stumble, and then you blame everything, and everybody. You get a head full of steam, and it hurts you, it kills you to know that you have to start all over! You have to start… from the very bottom… But the only person that ever stops you from ever actually reaching the top is: you. You stop yourself. Because you get in over your head. And the last time we were in the ring, you thought you had… a shield…”
The mischievous grin remains as he moves his hand back to the top of the shield, and clutches it tightly. He cocks his head to the side before resuming, “This– this is what this title was to you when you were entered into Heir to the Throne! You saw it, and you treated it, like it was going to shield you… You thought that it would defend you! You thought that there was no chance you were going to walk into your first title defense, and lose, because you had… momentum? You got that one little spark, Nick,” Sabin says while opening his hand to imitate an explosion, “and you let it all go straight to your head, straight to your ego, and you believed– truly believed that you were able to step into the ring with the big dogs! But I watched you fall, Nick; this world watched you fall all because reality was finally sinking in… And I remember. I remember it quite vividly. I remember how you began making every single excuse you could fuel your imagination with. I remember how the world was starting to see you crack…”
He chuckles under his breath. The sly smirk on his face remains, as he sucks in air through his teeth as if to savor the sweetest taste…all the while, his hand remains clenched onto the shield, and his nails start digging into the material as a crack forms under his hand.
“For someone who is obsessed with playing the good guy, you sure have a funny way of handling the pressure…” With a grin still on his face, and a low chuckle, he cocks his head further to the side while resuming, “It was so much fun to see you crack under the weight of your failure. I remember, and I’m sure the world will remember when I take them on a stroll down memory lane. You claimed that I couldn’t beat you without the help of Father, and let me just make things clear: I never needed his help. I was just tired of wasting my time; he was tired of me wasting my time! For someone that wants to play GOKU, you sure made a lot of excuses. Are you listening to me? Do you understand? You are not Goku. That’s not you. You are more like… Krillin… you give everything you have, and you have a heart that can’t be compared with anybody else, because you…” He clicks his tongue, snickering, “You just don’t know when to quit. But like Krillin – you fail. You are more of a liability to everybody around you. You are – a distraction while the real heroes get the job done.”
His nails dig into the cracks of the shield, and the crack widens, along with his grin. He tilts his head the other way before resuming, “But I’ve told you, I’ve told everybody, I’ve done NOTHING but make it CLEAR that this is not a FAIRYTALE! This is NOT a fantasy where people vanquish the monster… This is the real world, and sometimes, it just is what it is, and the bad guy wins! I feel like–” his voice cracks a little behind a chuckle, “–I feel like I am a bit of a broken record with having to give you all that reminder, ‘cause all of those people that you thought you could mention… All of those people that you thought won simply because they walked out with their arms raised, I’m gonna ask you one time.” he says while wagging his finger at the camera.
“WHERE? ARE? THEY?” His voice reverberates in the air, and the shield shatters in his hands… Sabin shakes his hands, and sneers, “Please, enlighten me. Please, tell me how you want to add your name to the list of people that have had their arm raised against me, ‘cause I’m going to remind you… right here… right now… only one of them is still standing. Only one of them still marches down to my ring, and fights my fight. And he never got the satisfaction of actually winning… I made him tap out; he never got the honor.” Sabin says through gritted teeth.
“And you seem to be begging to end up just like everybody else! You kept… scratching, you kept gnawing, you kept begging for my attention, and everybody who’s been in the ring with me knows– you don’t want my attention. Do you want to know why you don’t want my attention? Because when people get my attention, they get hurt. When I get into the ring and I have one thing on my mind– breaking you– you get hurt. You get hurt, and then you blame me. You goad me, and then you blame me.” He scoffs.
“This world – these people – they have a need to place blame on anyone for them just not being… as good. That, my friends, is where my family seems to always fit in. My family, my blood, we always seem to be the ones to take it, aren’t we? Angel was at the top of the world, and the world blamed him! The world called him a monster. The world turned him into a monster…” Sabin shakes his head, “And then Tláa, it was the same story – the world loves her, then it hates her, and all because the simple fact remains that the world is jealous of us… How long until they turn on Tláak’w? Just like they turned on me? They hate us–” Sabin closes his eyes for a moment longer than a standard blink, and when he re-opens them, he is in the nursery of his toddler daughter, Mikaela Jade.
Both father and daughter are lying on the floor, both on their stomachs; Sabin is propped on his elbows and looking toward his daughter with a sincere smile on his face. There is nothing but love in the eyes of the father. Mikaela excitedly hits her hands against the carpet while pushing herself to her hands and knees and is successfully crawling – a milestone that she had accomplished some months ago, but still one that would always bring a smile to the young father’s face.
“–because we’re better than them…” Sabin says without missing a beat.
Sabin stretches his hand forward and strokes Mikaela’s chin, causing her to blink a couple of times before giggling, and Sabin continues with his point, “That’s the unfortunate curse of our family, and something that I…” he sighs, “I hope that you will never have to endure. I hope– but I know… They’re going to blame you, just like they blamed me. They’re going to make all of the same accusations. They are going to say that you had everything handed to you, and you know that I would give you the world, but the world– is– cruel. They’re going to call you… ‘monster’. They’re going to call you… ‘spoiled’. But you’ll… be ready. You’re going to be strong enough to handle it. You’re going to be strong enough to take everything that this world is going to throw at you, and you– are going to make everybody pay for ever doubting you! You are going to be– better than Tláa. You are going to be better than léelk’w. You are going to be better than me– you are going to be better than all of us.” Sabin says with a smile.
Sabin knew that Mikaela was too young to comprehend the words that he was saying… His lips retained a weakened smile as he could not help but consider the future; he could not help but think of the day that she would experience the same torment that he, himself, had endured from the likes of people throughout the industry that his family has always had a foothold in.
The words still haunted the twenty-one-year old to this day… Everyone who said he was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, and how he didn’t have to put in the work to be where he is. He couldn’t help but wish it were true, but Sabin still remembers, quite vividly, what it was like to be taken under his mother’s wing, and under Angel’s wing, to become the monster he needed to be. Because of his bloodline, it always felt like more was expected out of him – and he never complained… He worked four times as hard, and every ounce of blood, sweat, and tears that he spilled on his way to finally stepping into the ring was well worth the price to accomplish what he had already done at twenty-one-years old.
His eyes shift from his daughter briefly, lost within the confines of his own mind; considering everything that he had gone through… and the question finally escapes from behind his lips, “Why shouldn’t I?” he asks himself.
His gaze fixates back on his daughter, “Why shouldn’t we become what they want us to be?”
KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!
“SABE!” Jennie’s voice bellows out, “MICKEY!”
Jennie’s eyes land on Mikaela, who struggles to push herself to her feet, and scampers over to Jennie with wobbly footsteps, “LOOK AT HER GO! Anyways, Sabe, I know it’s kind of coming as a last-minute ordeal, but Tara wants to take the kiddies all to Disney World while we’re in Florida…” Jennie picks Mikaela up, and Mikaela immediately gives a weak slap against Jennie which causes her eyes to widen, “What’d I do?! I’m taking you to see Mickey!”
Mikaela answers in garbled baby language, to which Jennie pretends to fully understand what she’s saying and continues the conversation whilst walking out of the room. Meanwhile, Sabin’s stare fixates forward on nothing in particular before the question escapes from his lips a second time, “Why shouldn’t I?”
The camera pans to the side, seemingly continuing to go before we find ourselves back within the realm that would typically belong to Wraith– the void. Sabin stands there, though, with the two titles belonging to him on both of his shoulders as he takes a step forward and taps his fingers against the golden crest.
“You know what your problem is?” Sabin asks with a coy smile.
“You’re trying too hard… Y’see, life has a funny way of just– taking– everything away from you. The harder you work, the further it gets! And there’s no denying your ambition… There’s no denying that you want to call yourself the IWF Men’s World Champion, and you want to do it THIS! YEAR! Annnd–” he holds the word for several seconds, “You’re just all over the place. You have your mind set on winning the Roulette this year, and stamping your ticket to Night of the Immortals! A place where I have been! And a place that you will never see. Yet– you are challenging me for my title. And I have already told all of you that that doesn't bother me, not in the least, ‘cause the fact of the matter is… I want challengers. I want people to come after my title, but up until now, everybody's just been too afraid to call me out simply ‘cause they know what’s going to happen to them when they get into the ring with me. I’m going to break them. I’m going to break their body; I’m going to break their spirit; I’m going to make them question whether they belong in this industry! And even if they do decide that this is their profession, even if they do decide that this is what they were born to do… they’re going to run away, and run fast because they know that so long as I am here, they will never be on my level. They will never have the spotlight.”
The smirk remains on his face as he strides forward, and wraps his hand around the lens before lowering the camera and shifting the angle so it’s looking upward toward him…he crouches down, “You adapt– evolve– or you become lost and forgotten… While the world is still trying to catch up with Wraith– I… adapt. I… evolve. And come Sunday, I become something… more.” Sabin blows a kiss at the camera, and shoves it down into the dirt.
Fade to fucking black.