Post by Gjenrei on Feb 22, 2014 18:57:35 GMT
A lifetime ago
{A young man sat, cross legged and alone, on the floor, his eyes focused on the food container in his hand. He sifted through it with a plastic fork, seemingly in no hurry to eat anything inside. Two jovial voices approach and two men walk by, they see the young man on the floor, and one decides to stop.}
Nice moves out there rookie, you may have impressed that one blind guy in the front row!
{He burst out laughing, the man with him just shook his head sadly. The young man ignored him.}
What? Nothing to say? I thought you rookies were all full of hot air, always on with the next generation and how we're old and past our prime. Now you got nothing.
{Clearly, the man was taunting the younger man, looking for a reaction. The young man wasn't biting. The other man pulled his partners arm.}
Leave the kid alone, Nobuo. We were all rookies once. I recall you not liking the older guys mocking you.
Me? Mocking him? What about all the things he said?
You were a mouthy child too, as I recall. You learned, just as he will. Let it go.
{The angry man paused for a second, then scoffed in the direction of the man on the floor.}
Whatever. He'll fizzle out like so many others.
I stand by what I said. Your technique is sloppy and lacks precision.
WHAT DID YOU SAY!?
You heard it. Apparently more than once, judging by your reaction.
You little...!
{Nobuo reached for the young man on the floor out of rage, but the man was no longer there, rolling to the side and ending up on his feet, never seemingly taking his eyes off the container in his hands. Nobuo stumbled off balance and ended up on his face.}
I rest my case...
{There's a silence as Nobuo picks himself up, his pride being the only thing wounded. He hesitates, then just waves dismissively and stalks off. The other man shrugs, as if this wasn't a rare occurance.}
Some people never lose their temper it seems.
All things get better with time, or so I am told.
Except the food they serve. That never changes.
{The young man looked into the container again, then dropped the whole thing into the garbage can.}
Good to know.
I don't want you to think to ill of Nobuo. He's just stuck inside the cycle most people fall into.
Cycle?
People think because show's are only so long, that you have to fight for your spot. It should be the only reason you come to the ring, every time. And once you have a spot, everyone who comes after you has the chance to take it. The problem is that it's entirely true.
So it seems like he has the right attitude then.
He might. But when you slip into that cycle, you forget why you stepped into the ring in the first place. You become consumed with things like your win-loss record, or how many championships you've held. Those things suddenly define your career. But they don't. Or they shouldn't.
Never place your self worth in someone else's hands, so the saying goes.
My point exactly. If I may dispense some veteran advice, two things. Only worry about winning when you have to, and know that you never "have" to. That's the only way to stay out of the cycle.
....I'll take that under advisement.
=====================================
"Now, I know what you're thinking. You're thinking that I showed you that to make some big point about myself. Well, you'd be wrong. That man, Hironoki, didn't tell me anything I didn't already know. No man should ever define his self worth by something easily written on a stat sheet and overlooked. You hear it all the time, "How did such and such guy win such and such", or "That guy won this title? They're just giving it away." They put so much emphasis on things that don't matter, then find a way to demean them in the next breath.
That story wasn't supposed to hold any lesson for me, it was for you Angel. To remind you of everything you've seemingly forgotten.
I chose your school, because of what you represented. You, Falcon, Maniac, Talon, Rob Diamond.. people who were told they would never even so much as make it to the big leagues, let alone accomplish anything. People who fought through hate, doubt, control.. to show the world that preconceived notions were shit. Now, look at you..
Trying to play the block bully, becoming the very thing you fought against for so long.
You can say whatever you wish, but I did not come to your school, sign up for your tuteledge to become you. Had I any inclination to just be Angel version 2, I easily could have. Not only have I done the same things as you half a world away, but if you know anything about the Japanese, is that we're masters of doing what we're told when we believe in the source.
Here's a hint, I never believed in you as a man. Ever.
You aren't a God, a savior, or some kind of diety, and you never have been. Take away your executive position and what have you? Absolutely nothing. Take away your ability to make matches and change the rules as you see fit, and you're just a man with a history. A man who could easily get by on talent alone, as he once did, but chooses not to, because he feels that he is above that. A man who didn't need his two lackeys to pull him out of that cage, but had them do so anyway.
If that's the kind of things you take pride in, then your legacy is shit, and if I was blindly trying to be the next Angel, I'd be utterly disappointed in myself now. I was supposed to be you? Well you were supposed to be a friend, but I guess we all can't get what we want.
Convince yourself that I've ever been your puppet or your plaything if you want, but the facts speak for themselves. Honorbound is no more because you fired Cable. Before our match he pleaded with me to continue, and we would have. Because it would take more than your angry cheating fucktoy to manipulate us.
That's what pisses you off the most. In Angel's world where IWF is his chessboard, there were two pieces who wouldn't move on command, and so they have to be eliminated. If we were simply so insignificant, then why do through any of the trouble? Why not just fire both of us for any number of inarguable reasons and be done with it?
Because we didn't play along, and we had to pay. Well, I'm still not playing along. In fact, you have the longest road ahead, because you have three people in the ring with you, and two of them don't care about the title, or the other guy. Go ahead, call out your dogs if you must, see if they'll help you. That is, if they're still standing after their own match. I hear those southern boys can do some damage.
Reigns of history, back in the hands of man, as the story goes. Gods have no place here, nor do heathens who play at it. Just because Amber screams it in bed, doesn't mean she's talking to you. Because she screamed it at me, too.
Just keep telling yourself "this time it's real". Whatever helps you sleep at night.
As for Pooler, well, what will it be this time? Another long diatribe about all the things I'm supposedly going to say? All the excuses I'm going to make? Please, Bob, tell me more about what I'm thinking.
Inquiring minds want to know.
I know, I get it, you're a ring veteran who's been around and the world and seen a bunch of guys who say the same thing and thus everyone but you is the same. Oh just because I think your narrowminded views are stupid and horribly inefficient doesn't mean I don't understand them. I've wrestled all over the world too, and seen a lot of people who fall into a lot of the same ruts.
Fortunately I have the ability to see outside my own ass and I've noticed those guys bear a striking resemblance much more to you than I. But I don't expect you to understand any of that, you being the first man ever who can give himself an eyeful of his digested breakfast.
But, let me pose a question for you, Pooler. What now?
Spike kept his power through fear. He was the top dog, Imperial champion, and had people with him who believed in the things he presented. Slowly, he dropped each one of those people, for others who he thought would just win more. Now Lance seems to have all but vanished, Killian is nowhere to be seen, so all he's left with is you, and you've proven you have about as much loyalty as a stripper in a room full of hobos.
IWF took a chance and gave you a shot at something before you'd really earned it, and you turned and sided with the group trying to destroy what they stood for. You were in trouble through no fault of your own, and a complete stranger helped you, and the first thing you did was watch as his supposed friends turned on him. I don't have to do or say anything to try and make you look bad, you seem to be doing just fine on your own.
Maybe Angel can use you as his next progeny, you seem to like decaying everything you've ever built in your twilight years. Seems you have something in common.
You can say whatever you want, Bob. Launch into another tired speech about me and my supposed hypocritical nature, or mock my heritage, my past, claim more about the mask you clearly don't understand, it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter because you haven't shown the world any reason why anyone should ever listen to any word you have to say. That, you have nobody to blame but yourself. What's going to happen is you're going to learn absolutely nothing from this and the next time someone has a half assed idea that got you into the mess in the first place you're going to just trust them like a sheep, and get yourself in trouble again.
Except the next time, someone will remember how you fucked over the last guy who helped you, and nobody will reach a hand out for you. You won't realize it's your own fault, you'll just be angry and bitter and act out like a child.
Go ahead, tell me I'm wrong. With some more than a simply emphasised nu uh, if you would.
You can't.
As for Verona, well, he seems to be after the same thing I am, and at the risk of pretending to be more concerned than I am, I'm simply going to let things stand. Either help, or get out of the way, it's that simple. Afford me this courtesy and I will do likewise.
I don't care about your position in the company.
I don't care about why.
All I know is the what, and that's what matters. Win the title, don't, it doesn't make a difference.
The mask, does.
Fight for your shiney belts, I'll settle for having something that means so much more. It's alright if you don't understand.
Lesser men rarely do."
{A young man sat, cross legged and alone, on the floor, his eyes focused on the food container in his hand. He sifted through it with a plastic fork, seemingly in no hurry to eat anything inside. Two jovial voices approach and two men walk by, they see the young man on the floor, and one decides to stop.}
Nice moves out there rookie, you may have impressed that one blind guy in the front row!
{He burst out laughing, the man with him just shook his head sadly. The young man ignored him.}
What? Nothing to say? I thought you rookies were all full of hot air, always on with the next generation and how we're old and past our prime. Now you got nothing.
{Clearly, the man was taunting the younger man, looking for a reaction. The young man wasn't biting. The other man pulled his partners arm.}
Leave the kid alone, Nobuo. We were all rookies once. I recall you not liking the older guys mocking you.
Me? Mocking him? What about all the things he said?
You were a mouthy child too, as I recall. You learned, just as he will. Let it go.
{The angry man paused for a second, then scoffed in the direction of the man on the floor.}
Whatever. He'll fizzle out like so many others.
I stand by what I said. Your technique is sloppy and lacks precision.
WHAT DID YOU SAY!?
You heard it. Apparently more than once, judging by your reaction.
You little...!
{Nobuo reached for the young man on the floor out of rage, but the man was no longer there, rolling to the side and ending up on his feet, never seemingly taking his eyes off the container in his hands. Nobuo stumbled off balance and ended up on his face.}
I rest my case...
{There's a silence as Nobuo picks himself up, his pride being the only thing wounded. He hesitates, then just waves dismissively and stalks off. The other man shrugs, as if this wasn't a rare occurance.}
Some people never lose their temper it seems.
All things get better with time, or so I am told.
Except the food they serve. That never changes.
{The young man looked into the container again, then dropped the whole thing into the garbage can.}
Good to know.
I don't want you to think to ill of Nobuo. He's just stuck inside the cycle most people fall into.
Cycle?
People think because show's are only so long, that you have to fight for your spot. It should be the only reason you come to the ring, every time. And once you have a spot, everyone who comes after you has the chance to take it. The problem is that it's entirely true.
So it seems like he has the right attitude then.
He might. But when you slip into that cycle, you forget why you stepped into the ring in the first place. You become consumed with things like your win-loss record, or how many championships you've held. Those things suddenly define your career. But they don't. Or they shouldn't.
Never place your self worth in someone else's hands, so the saying goes.
My point exactly. If I may dispense some veteran advice, two things. Only worry about winning when you have to, and know that you never "have" to. That's the only way to stay out of the cycle.
....I'll take that under advisement.
=====================================
"Now, I know what you're thinking. You're thinking that I showed you that to make some big point about myself. Well, you'd be wrong. That man, Hironoki, didn't tell me anything I didn't already know. No man should ever define his self worth by something easily written on a stat sheet and overlooked. You hear it all the time, "How did such and such guy win such and such", or "That guy won this title? They're just giving it away." They put so much emphasis on things that don't matter, then find a way to demean them in the next breath.
That story wasn't supposed to hold any lesson for me, it was for you Angel. To remind you of everything you've seemingly forgotten.
I chose your school, because of what you represented. You, Falcon, Maniac, Talon, Rob Diamond.. people who were told they would never even so much as make it to the big leagues, let alone accomplish anything. People who fought through hate, doubt, control.. to show the world that preconceived notions were shit. Now, look at you..
Trying to play the block bully, becoming the very thing you fought against for so long.
You can say whatever you wish, but I did not come to your school, sign up for your tuteledge to become you. Had I any inclination to just be Angel version 2, I easily could have. Not only have I done the same things as you half a world away, but if you know anything about the Japanese, is that we're masters of doing what we're told when we believe in the source.
Here's a hint, I never believed in you as a man. Ever.
You aren't a God, a savior, or some kind of diety, and you never have been. Take away your executive position and what have you? Absolutely nothing. Take away your ability to make matches and change the rules as you see fit, and you're just a man with a history. A man who could easily get by on talent alone, as he once did, but chooses not to, because he feels that he is above that. A man who didn't need his two lackeys to pull him out of that cage, but had them do so anyway.
If that's the kind of things you take pride in, then your legacy is shit, and if I was blindly trying to be the next Angel, I'd be utterly disappointed in myself now. I was supposed to be you? Well you were supposed to be a friend, but I guess we all can't get what we want.
Convince yourself that I've ever been your puppet or your plaything if you want, but the facts speak for themselves. Honorbound is no more because you fired Cable. Before our match he pleaded with me to continue, and we would have. Because it would take more than your angry cheating fucktoy to manipulate us.
That's what pisses you off the most. In Angel's world where IWF is his chessboard, there were two pieces who wouldn't move on command, and so they have to be eliminated. If we were simply so insignificant, then why do through any of the trouble? Why not just fire both of us for any number of inarguable reasons and be done with it?
Because we didn't play along, and we had to pay. Well, I'm still not playing along. In fact, you have the longest road ahead, because you have three people in the ring with you, and two of them don't care about the title, or the other guy. Go ahead, call out your dogs if you must, see if they'll help you. That is, if they're still standing after their own match. I hear those southern boys can do some damage.
Reigns of history, back in the hands of man, as the story goes. Gods have no place here, nor do heathens who play at it. Just because Amber screams it in bed, doesn't mean she's talking to you. Because she screamed it at me, too.
Just keep telling yourself "this time it's real". Whatever helps you sleep at night.
As for Pooler, well, what will it be this time? Another long diatribe about all the things I'm supposedly going to say? All the excuses I'm going to make? Please, Bob, tell me more about what I'm thinking.
Inquiring minds want to know.
I know, I get it, you're a ring veteran who's been around and the world and seen a bunch of guys who say the same thing and thus everyone but you is the same. Oh just because I think your narrowminded views are stupid and horribly inefficient doesn't mean I don't understand them. I've wrestled all over the world too, and seen a lot of people who fall into a lot of the same ruts.
Fortunately I have the ability to see outside my own ass and I've noticed those guys bear a striking resemblance much more to you than I. But I don't expect you to understand any of that, you being the first man ever who can give himself an eyeful of his digested breakfast.
But, let me pose a question for you, Pooler. What now?
Spike kept his power through fear. He was the top dog, Imperial champion, and had people with him who believed in the things he presented. Slowly, he dropped each one of those people, for others who he thought would just win more. Now Lance seems to have all but vanished, Killian is nowhere to be seen, so all he's left with is you, and you've proven you have about as much loyalty as a stripper in a room full of hobos.
IWF took a chance and gave you a shot at something before you'd really earned it, and you turned and sided with the group trying to destroy what they stood for. You were in trouble through no fault of your own, and a complete stranger helped you, and the first thing you did was watch as his supposed friends turned on him. I don't have to do or say anything to try and make you look bad, you seem to be doing just fine on your own.
Maybe Angel can use you as his next progeny, you seem to like decaying everything you've ever built in your twilight years. Seems you have something in common.
You can say whatever you want, Bob. Launch into another tired speech about me and my supposed hypocritical nature, or mock my heritage, my past, claim more about the mask you clearly don't understand, it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter because you haven't shown the world any reason why anyone should ever listen to any word you have to say. That, you have nobody to blame but yourself. What's going to happen is you're going to learn absolutely nothing from this and the next time someone has a half assed idea that got you into the mess in the first place you're going to just trust them like a sheep, and get yourself in trouble again.
Except the next time, someone will remember how you fucked over the last guy who helped you, and nobody will reach a hand out for you. You won't realize it's your own fault, you'll just be angry and bitter and act out like a child.
Go ahead, tell me I'm wrong. With some more than a simply emphasised nu uh, if you would.
You can't.
As for Verona, well, he seems to be after the same thing I am, and at the risk of pretending to be more concerned than I am, I'm simply going to let things stand. Either help, or get out of the way, it's that simple. Afford me this courtesy and I will do likewise.
I don't care about your position in the company.
I don't care about why.
All I know is the what, and that's what matters. Win the title, don't, it doesn't make a difference.
The mask, does.
Fight for your shiney belts, I'll settle for having something that means so much more. It's alright if you don't understand.
Lesser men rarely do."
Well howdy there pardner.