The Fractures Within the Mirror
May 4, 2020 9:03:09 GMT -5
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Post by scottyadams on May 4, 2020 9:03:09 GMT -5
Date: 29/4/2020
Location: Auburn, Alabama
---
(Now, I know some people might be asking 'why?'. 'Why did you help cost the Parody the PureBlood title?' and to those people, I simply say this: If you allow yourself to get distracted by anything.
If any situation is enough to cause you to neglect the task at hand, where you *really* gonna win?
It's like if you were travelling along a path, seeking a pot of gold. Or some other material possession you yearned for; a butterfly came into your sights and then you pursued it.
Would you blame the butterfly for being there, or yourself for being drawn to it? Those are the questions you must ask yourself internally.
Just as I had to ask myself when Jayson Violence, or as he wishes to be called now, V.I.O.L.E.N.C.E decided to come back; help Ophelia Pain attain the throne. Be the last anointed holder of the PureKore throne before it became the PureBlood title. Thus keeping the poison within the stream.
Yet the only person I am mad at about that occurrence is myself. I should have never let it get to that point. I should have laid Pheely to rest before Jayson could waltz in; claim his deed as the 'white knight' and live out his fantasy. I enabled that and I accept that. After all, the championship was merely a device.
A cog in the machine.
A mechanism in order to enhance the message I had placed upon the table. Not the crutch on which the message stands. That is something people don't seem to realise. I can still bring about purity. I can still extract the venom. The gimmickry without a belt.
Without a crown.
Don't think the endgame has changed. Don't think for a single second that the machination's course has been diverted.
Especially as I sit here within the confines of my house, my body in a state of relaxation.
Bianca has taken Amelia and Chilli out to Kissel Park in order to get some fresh air and relaxation; Lucina sits in her baby seat to my right.
Pre-occupied by the crayons and paper I had set up for her, in order to allow her to draw. Or at least, scribble and have something to pass the time.
Casting a glance over to her, I notice the outline of a house drawn in pastel blue crayon, with a small door and a pathway leading from it.
For a 6-month-old, it's actually quite impressive. Better than I could do at that age - or ever, really.
Art has never been a strong suit of mine. Well, outside of a wrestling context that is.)
"My best art has always been between those ropes."
(Thinking this to myself out loud, I know she more than likely got that gift from Bianca. She has always been the more artistic outta the two of us, to go along with her athleticism. It's one of the reasons I think we mesh so well together; one of the reasons I fell in love with her.
She had that aura about her. You know what I'm talking about. It was as if she was *made* for me, much like Joely had once been; the *only* person who could at least attempt to fill the void that was in my heart.
Smirking, I allow my mind to almost become lost within its own thoughts. Within the bliss that Bianca has provided. How she revitalised my life; made everything feel 'right again'. The beacon of light that saved me from the abysses despair. Allowing soft laughter to float into the air, I glance across to Lucina, having heard a 'thud'.
Though I breathe a sigh of relief when I realise that it was Lucina pushing the crayons onto the floor, scattering them. I'll clean that up later.
For now, though, Lucina is sitting there, a cute smile on her face - giggling. The sweet innocence of a child. Of somebody, who is pure and not yet stained by the cruelty this world has to offer.
A true portrait of the innocence children hold within - an innocence that we yearn to hold once more. Pushing myself up, I slightly groan as a shooting pain manifests itself within my body.
The hallmark of arthritis plus years in the ring. The wear and tear associated with those years catching up to me.
Slowly making my way over to Lucina, I bend over; lifting her up as I cradle her gently in my arms.)
"I do this for you. Bianca does this for you, Lucina. We want you to have the life I never truly had."
(It's a promise I made to myself back when I was 18; finally able to leave the grips of the foster care system. If I was to *ever* have a child, I would ensure they would *never* have to worry about being taken away.
Never have to walk through the abyss that is the foster care system - that I would always be there for them. That their mother would always be there for them.
It's something that I told Bianca the first time I met her.
It's something that just like me, she believes in as well. The family foundation and the pillars it provides in life. As understated as they are, they are what hold us together. Just as it is in every home, or at least - how it would be ideally.)
"We want the best for you. We'd die for you, Lucina. That's how much you truly mean to us."
(Smiling, I pivot my body around, making my way towards the hall so that I can pit Lucina in her cot, for her nap. Yawning, she looks up at me, her smile causing my body to relax. She truly is the thing Bianca and I cherish most in life. Someday, she will understand that.
She will realise that she is the glue that holds us together in this time of crisis.
That she is the one that keeps everything in perspective. That reminds us just why we take the actions that we do. Sighing, I walk down the hall, cradling her in my arms with a joyous smile across my face.)
"*Nothing* will ever change that, darling. That, I promise."
(Making my way to Lucina's room, I let out a gentle sigh as I look around. Each toy. Each decoration reminding me of our 'baby shower', which I only agreed to have after Bianca begged me to hold it. I've never been big on those sorts of things - but if you know me. You know the sort of person I am, you'd understand that.
I'm more of the - shall we say - a simple type of person. Never been a fan of the bright lights or the celebrations, which is something that held true even when I was younger. Even when I had a more 'flashy' appearance.
Walking to the cot, I gently put her atop the bedding after softly kissing her on the forehead.)
"Sweet dreams, princess."
(I smile as I turn around, walking calmly and quietly outta the room. Leaving Lucina to blissful sleep. To her soothing dreams. Heading back into the hall, I turn right, heading back towards the lounge room before stopping myself.
Remembering that I told Bianca that I would call Emma and make sure everything was set up for the charity auction we're doing on the 13th.
All proceeds from which are going towards helping underprivileged people and those who are homeless mitigate and at least have some sense of relief during this coronavirus pandemic.
For they are the ones often forgotten about and struggling the most in the current landscape.
Much like healthcare workers who put themselves at risk every day. To me, they need the support system. They need all the help, financial or otherwise they can get. It's one of the causes that Adams Enterprises spearheads - as my family was just like them at one point in my life.
Lower middle-class family, having to fight for every scrap we could get. Not knowing if they'd have enough to last a whole week. Especially with me in the foster care system.
Pulling my phone outta my pocket, I look down at the screen. Scrolling until I reach Emma's name. Pushing on it, I lift the phone to my ear as I keep walking.)
Emma: Hey Scotty, what's up?
(I smile as I hear her yawn over the phone line.)
"Hey, Emma. Not much. Bianca asked me to call and ask about the auction set up."
(I laugh, as I pivot into the living room; make my way over to my couch.)
Emma: Ah, right. Yeah - I talked to Larni about it earlier; told her that most of the items should be set up on the site.
"Uh-huh."
Emma: And if you guys wanted to add anything to the list, there should be an option on the site to allow you to do so.
(I nod, making a note of this to myself.)
"Alright. So, I'm guessing you added the jacket I wore to the ring ar Injustice for all to the list, as well as the special portrait of me winning the PureKore belt?"
(I smile to myself, as I sit down atop my couch. Yes, I'm auctioning off the jacket I wore to the ring at Injustice for All. It was designed specifically for that night. So, if I can put it towards a greater cause, I'm more than happy to.
As for the portrait, it was something I had specifically commissioned to be auctioned off. Well, for this auction specifically.)
Emma: Yeah. I did that earlier too.
"Alright, thanks. That's all I wanted to ask about."
Emma: Alright. Cya.
"Cya."
(I pull the phone from my ear; place it back in the pocket of my shorts, as I begin to ponder my opponent this week at Showcase. A man who is more similar to me, yet the opposite side of the coin at the very same time. Just like me, he studies. Analyses his opponents - yet he does it for the opposite reason to me.
I do it to manipulate; craft the foe into my image. Counter everything they could even ponder, he attempts to craft himself into a spitting image of his opponent. It's a psychological dichotomy that made this match up inevitable.
That made this passage something that had been sealed in stone long before last week. Heck, long before he even set foot in OPW.)
"From the start, I knew that eventually there would be an entity. A persona that would attempt to feed off society's lack of self-awareness. That they would use it to mould their own designs. Their machinations."
(Allowing my half-smile to creep onto my face, I let a soft breath float into the air. Knowing that when it comes to Parody, his desire is to showcase and highlight the fallacy in the 'nobody knows you better than yourself' adage you hear people preach. A statement, that holds only partial truth.)
"I saw the signs. I saw the ripples beneath the surface. The questions. The answers. People wished to live within their bubble. Their false belief that nobody could *truly* know them better than themselves, yet folded the very moment someone called that belief out.
Challenged the fibre it stands upon. Forced them to question just how much they truly knew about themselves."
(I raise my right hand, stroking my beard slowly; methodically as a holographic mirror appears before my eyes.)
"When they were forced to comprehend what they saw within the mirror. That's what you personify, isn't it, Parody? The questions that haunt people within. The ever-churning machinations of their mind, attempting to justify their singularity."
(I pause, feeling my mind begin to turn. A sadistic expression beginning to manifest itself upon my face.)
"The doubt that creeps into their mind. You're the personification of psychological analysis. Preying upon those who do not hold the awareness. The sense in order to play your game. To realise that you are their marionette."
(I laugh.)
"In turn, they are your enablers. They are the subjects that wandered helplessly into your rabbit hole, unable to escape until you had forced the mirror into their eyes."
(Gazing into the mirror, I allow my hazel eyes to burn, as facepaint slowly manifests on the holographic version of myself.)
"What happens if the person is willing to look into the mirror? What happens when the person you see, is the exact same yet polar opposite of you, Parody?"
(Smiling, I notice the facepaint continuing to cover the hologram's face.)
"What happens, when it's *you* in the firing line? You see if you blame me for the other night. If you wish to claim I'm the reason that you're not PureBlood champion, then you're just like those you claim to mock. Then you have picked up the same flaws they have."
(I chuckle, allowing the irony of my comment to sink in. What if Parody is the one who lacks self-awareness? What if he was merely a walking fallacy?)
"That would be the greatest irony of them all. The funniest instance of hypocrisy I have witnessed. For your sake, I hope it doesn't play out that way. I hope that you don't play that tune."
(The hologram slowly fades, as the mirror shatters.)
"Otherwise all that shall be left of your facade, is the shattered glass. The misery. The agony of your final reality coming to pass. I'll see you at Showcase."
(I smirk.)
"Can you figure it out? Can you answer the riddle?"
(Leaning back, I let out a peal of laughter. Knowing that the dichotomy is merely simmering. That the answers are just beyond his reach.)
"Look beyond the mirror."
(End)
Location: Auburn, Alabama
---
(Now, I know some people might be asking 'why?'. 'Why did you help cost the Parody the PureBlood title?' and to those people, I simply say this: If you allow yourself to get distracted by anything.
If any situation is enough to cause you to neglect the task at hand, where you *really* gonna win?
It's like if you were travelling along a path, seeking a pot of gold. Or some other material possession you yearned for; a butterfly came into your sights and then you pursued it.
Would you blame the butterfly for being there, or yourself for being drawn to it? Those are the questions you must ask yourself internally.
Just as I had to ask myself when Jayson Violence, or as he wishes to be called now, V.I.O.L.E.N.C.E decided to come back; help Ophelia Pain attain the throne. Be the last anointed holder of the PureKore throne before it became the PureBlood title. Thus keeping the poison within the stream.
Yet the only person I am mad at about that occurrence is myself. I should have never let it get to that point. I should have laid Pheely to rest before Jayson could waltz in; claim his deed as the 'white knight' and live out his fantasy. I enabled that and I accept that. After all, the championship was merely a device.
A cog in the machine.
A mechanism in order to enhance the message I had placed upon the table. Not the crutch on which the message stands. That is something people don't seem to realise. I can still bring about purity. I can still extract the venom. The gimmickry without a belt.
Without a crown.
Don't think the endgame has changed. Don't think for a single second that the machination's course has been diverted.
Especially as I sit here within the confines of my house, my body in a state of relaxation.
Bianca has taken Amelia and Chilli out to Kissel Park in order to get some fresh air and relaxation; Lucina sits in her baby seat to my right.
Pre-occupied by the crayons and paper I had set up for her, in order to allow her to draw. Or at least, scribble and have something to pass the time.
Casting a glance over to her, I notice the outline of a house drawn in pastel blue crayon, with a small door and a pathway leading from it.
For a 6-month-old, it's actually quite impressive. Better than I could do at that age - or ever, really.
Art has never been a strong suit of mine. Well, outside of a wrestling context that is.)
"My best art has always been between those ropes."
(Thinking this to myself out loud, I know she more than likely got that gift from Bianca. She has always been the more artistic outta the two of us, to go along with her athleticism. It's one of the reasons I think we mesh so well together; one of the reasons I fell in love with her.
She had that aura about her. You know what I'm talking about. It was as if she was *made* for me, much like Joely had once been; the *only* person who could at least attempt to fill the void that was in my heart.
Smirking, I allow my mind to almost become lost within its own thoughts. Within the bliss that Bianca has provided. How she revitalised my life; made everything feel 'right again'. The beacon of light that saved me from the abysses despair. Allowing soft laughter to float into the air, I glance across to Lucina, having heard a 'thud'.
Though I breathe a sigh of relief when I realise that it was Lucina pushing the crayons onto the floor, scattering them. I'll clean that up later.
For now, though, Lucina is sitting there, a cute smile on her face - giggling. The sweet innocence of a child. Of somebody, who is pure and not yet stained by the cruelty this world has to offer.
A true portrait of the innocence children hold within - an innocence that we yearn to hold once more. Pushing myself up, I slightly groan as a shooting pain manifests itself within my body.
The hallmark of arthritis plus years in the ring. The wear and tear associated with those years catching up to me.
Slowly making my way over to Lucina, I bend over; lifting her up as I cradle her gently in my arms.)
"I do this for you. Bianca does this for you, Lucina. We want you to have the life I never truly had."
(It's a promise I made to myself back when I was 18; finally able to leave the grips of the foster care system. If I was to *ever* have a child, I would ensure they would *never* have to worry about being taken away.
Never have to walk through the abyss that is the foster care system - that I would always be there for them. That their mother would always be there for them.
It's something that I told Bianca the first time I met her.
It's something that just like me, she believes in as well. The family foundation and the pillars it provides in life. As understated as they are, they are what hold us together. Just as it is in every home, or at least - how it would be ideally.)
"We want the best for you. We'd die for you, Lucina. That's how much you truly mean to us."
(Smiling, I pivot my body around, making my way towards the hall so that I can pit Lucina in her cot, for her nap. Yawning, she looks up at me, her smile causing my body to relax. She truly is the thing Bianca and I cherish most in life. Someday, she will understand that.
She will realise that she is the glue that holds us together in this time of crisis.
That she is the one that keeps everything in perspective. That reminds us just why we take the actions that we do. Sighing, I walk down the hall, cradling her in my arms with a joyous smile across my face.)
"*Nothing* will ever change that, darling. That, I promise."
(Making my way to Lucina's room, I let out a gentle sigh as I look around. Each toy. Each decoration reminding me of our 'baby shower', which I only agreed to have after Bianca begged me to hold it. I've never been big on those sorts of things - but if you know me. You know the sort of person I am, you'd understand that.
I'm more of the - shall we say - a simple type of person. Never been a fan of the bright lights or the celebrations, which is something that held true even when I was younger. Even when I had a more 'flashy' appearance.
Walking to the cot, I gently put her atop the bedding after softly kissing her on the forehead.)
"Sweet dreams, princess."
(I smile as I turn around, walking calmly and quietly outta the room. Leaving Lucina to blissful sleep. To her soothing dreams. Heading back into the hall, I turn right, heading back towards the lounge room before stopping myself.
Remembering that I told Bianca that I would call Emma and make sure everything was set up for the charity auction we're doing on the 13th.
All proceeds from which are going towards helping underprivileged people and those who are homeless mitigate and at least have some sense of relief during this coronavirus pandemic.
For they are the ones often forgotten about and struggling the most in the current landscape.
Much like healthcare workers who put themselves at risk every day. To me, they need the support system. They need all the help, financial or otherwise they can get. It's one of the causes that Adams Enterprises spearheads - as my family was just like them at one point in my life.
Lower middle-class family, having to fight for every scrap we could get. Not knowing if they'd have enough to last a whole week. Especially with me in the foster care system.
Pulling my phone outta my pocket, I look down at the screen. Scrolling until I reach Emma's name. Pushing on it, I lift the phone to my ear as I keep walking.)
Emma: Hey Scotty, what's up?
(I smile as I hear her yawn over the phone line.)
"Hey, Emma. Not much. Bianca asked me to call and ask about the auction set up."
(I laugh, as I pivot into the living room; make my way over to my couch.)
Emma: Ah, right. Yeah - I talked to Larni about it earlier; told her that most of the items should be set up on the site.
"Uh-huh."
Emma: And if you guys wanted to add anything to the list, there should be an option on the site to allow you to do so.
(I nod, making a note of this to myself.)
"Alright. So, I'm guessing you added the jacket I wore to the ring ar Injustice for all to the list, as well as the special portrait of me winning the PureKore belt?"
(I smile to myself, as I sit down atop my couch. Yes, I'm auctioning off the jacket I wore to the ring at Injustice for All. It was designed specifically for that night. So, if I can put it towards a greater cause, I'm more than happy to.
As for the portrait, it was something I had specifically commissioned to be auctioned off. Well, for this auction specifically.)
Emma: Yeah. I did that earlier too.
"Alright, thanks. That's all I wanted to ask about."
Emma: Alright. Cya.
"Cya."
(I pull the phone from my ear; place it back in the pocket of my shorts, as I begin to ponder my opponent this week at Showcase. A man who is more similar to me, yet the opposite side of the coin at the very same time. Just like me, he studies. Analyses his opponents - yet he does it for the opposite reason to me.
I do it to manipulate; craft the foe into my image. Counter everything they could even ponder, he attempts to craft himself into a spitting image of his opponent. It's a psychological dichotomy that made this match up inevitable.
That made this passage something that had been sealed in stone long before last week. Heck, long before he even set foot in OPW.)
"From the start, I knew that eventually there would be an entity. A persona that would attempt to feed off society's lack of self-awareness. That they would use it to mould their own designs. Their machinations."
(Allowing my half-smile to creep onto my face, I let a soft breath float into the air. Knowing that when it comes to Parody, his desire is to showcase and highlight the fallacy in the 'nobody knows you better than yourself' adage you hear people preach. A statement, that holds only partial truth.)
"I saw the signs. I saw the ripples beneath the surface. The questions. The answers. People wished to live within their bubble. Their false belief that nobody could *truly* know them better than themselves, yet folded the very moment someone called that belief out.
Challenged the fibre it stands upon. Forced them to question just how much they truly knew about themselves."
(I raise my right hand, stroking my beard slowly; methodically as a holographic mirror appears before my eyes.)
"When they were forced to comprehend what they saw within the mirror. That's what you personify, isn't it, Parody? The questions that haunt people within. The ever-churning machinations of their mind, attempting to justify their singularity."
(I pause, feeling my mind begin to turn. A sadistic expression beginning to manifest itself upon my face.)
"The doubt that creeps into their mind. You're the personification of psychological analysis. Preying upon those who do not hold the awareness. The sense in order to play your game. To realise that you are their marionette."
(I laugh.)
"In turn, they are your enablers. They are the subjects that wandered helplessly into your rabbit hole, unable to escape until you had forced the mirror into their eyes."
(Gazing into the mirror, I allow my hazel eyes to burn, as facepaint slowly manifests on the holographic version of myself.)
"What happens if the person is willing to look into the mirror? What happens when the person you see, is the exact same yet polar opposite of you, Parody?"
(Smiling, I notice the facepaint continuing to cover the hologram's face.)
"What happens, when it's *you* in the firing line? You see if you blame me for the other night. If you wish to claim I'm the reason that you're not PureBlood champion, then you're just like those you claim to mock. Then you have picked up the same flaws they have."
(I chuckle, allowing the irony of my comment to sink in. What if Parody is the one who lacks self-awareness? What if he was merely a walking fallacy?)
"That would be the greatest irony of them all. The funniest instance of hypocrisy I have witnessed. For your sake, I hope it doesn't play out that way. I hope that you don't play that tune."
(The hologram slowly fades, as the mirror shatters.)
"Otherwise all that shall be left of your facade, is the shattered glass. The misery. The agony of your final reality coming to pass. I'll see you at Showcase."
(I smirk.)
"Can you figure it out? Can you answer the riddle?"
(Leaning back, I let out a peal of laughter. Knowing that the dichotomy is merely simmering. That the answers are just beyond his reach.)
"Look beyond the mirror."
(End)