Post by scottyadams on May 31, 2020 22:12:10 GMT -5
Date: 26/2/2020
Location: Pensacola, Florida.
---
(Taking a bit of a different routine this week, considering the fact that we were already down here. Usually, I would have driven back up to Auburn and spent time with Bianca, Lucina, Amelia and Chilli but this week - I told the 3 of them that we needed to switch things up. At least *try* and escape from the chaotic landscape; take time for ourselves. An escape from everything that's burning around us, if nothing else.
Something that we really haven't had in recent months. That's mostly my fault, I can admit that much, as I know Bianca has been taking Amelia and Chilli out. Letting them clear their minds. I just haven't been able to join them - until now. Especially considering that I was able to find us an apartment.
Well, I wouldn't say "find", considering it is owned by Aime Browers, a long-time friend of mine, but nonetheless able to access it.
That's neither here nor there though, as I currently walk through the Pensacola mall, doing some general shopping as well as waiting for Bianca to finish up with her own modelling of clothes. Uh, I mean her own clothes shopping.
Yeah, she usually turns clothes shopping into a mini catwalk show, but I can't blame her honestly. Who can? She has the body to pull *any* look off; I'm not just saying this because I have to either. I'm saying it because it's the truth. She's an absolute model when it comes to her looks and clothing.
And yes, I know I'm focusing on the superficial right now, which *isn't* the compete reason I love her as much as I do, but it's what people instantly are drawn to.
Though either way, I continue my walk through the mall, watching as a few people wall past me. Going about their own lives and shopping, electing not to pester me or ask for an autograph.
Not that fans asking me questions when I out bother me because it doesn't. It's always great to know the fans outside of the ring. On a personal rather than a professional level - or well, as personal as a conversation in the street can be.
Smiling, I notice a bench by a water fountain and wander over to it, sitting down. Taking some time to actually ponder the outcome of the battle royal; how Seth Iser was the next name to decide he wanted to come after me. The next name, who wanted to engage in warfare on both fronts. Physical and psychological.)
"Seth Iser ---"
(Calmly stating this name, I use my right hand to rub the back of my neck. Attempting to ensure that there is still blood flowing through it, because if I'm being honest here - I thought I had broken it when he connected with the tombstone off the top rope. Like, for real. I couldn't feel a thing for like 5 minutes after he connected with the move.
Especially with the pinched nerve, I have in my neck - or rather, had. In the past, I wouldn't have worried about it. I would have felt soreness, yes, but it wouldn't have bothered me.
Yet right now, it does.
Maybe it's the battle scars. Maybe it's arthritis. Maybe it's just my own paranoia. Or maybe, it's a combination of all 3, bundled into one.)
"Is this the supposed 'reaper'? Is this the persona who has been sent to cause *me* to look inside of my own mirror? The one, who is to bring about my own mortality?"
(I sigh, allowing myself time to reflect. Time to at least attempt to unlock the secrets that lay within Iser. A man, that I only know from passing stories. A man, who I have never encountered prior to him coming after me.)
"They always say that the most dangerous being is the one who lurks in the shadows. Waiting for the right moment to strike. Unknown, until they reveal themselves; play their hand. The 'wolf in sheep's clothing' as the old adage goes."
(Pushing myself upwards, I continue my walk. My mind still fixated on Iser and just *what* he could desire from me.)
"For it is them, who controls the narrative. It is them, who causes one to challenge even their own identity. Doubt just who it is that they portray."
(I let out a soft breath.)
"Attempt to figure out, just what they truly desire."
(I walk past an EB games, which is still closed due to the coronavirus pandemic, as much as being able to search through; potentially find a video game right now would help to alleviate the stress. Alleviate the pressure valve that is within my mind.
Causing me to almost fall into a state of anger. A state of rage that would awaken 'Zion'. That would cause off of my work to become undone. Go up in plumes of smoke. No matter how valiant I am. No matter how hard I fight to repress him. Even *I* have my tipping point.)
?: Excuse me.
(My train of thought is interrupted by the sound of a teenage male standing in front of me. I had become so distracted, that I hadn't noticed him walking down the same strip, in the opposite direction to me.)
"Yes?"
(He looks at me, smiling. Excited for some reason.)
Male: You're Scotty Adams, right? The pinnacle of Purity? The Silver Bullet?
(I laugh to myself, nodding.)
"Yep, that's me."
(My voice cheesy, he beams upon hearing that.)
Male: Aye. I'm a *massive* fan of your work in the ring. Been a fan of yours since 2011.
(I smile. As course and abrasive as I might appear outwardly, I'm a softie at heart. Always have been.)
"Thanks. It means a lot to me, seriously."
(The male smiles, almost in amazement that I'm openly interacting with him. Especially with how, as I mentioned before, abrasive I can be.)
Male: Yeah. Do you mind signing my book for me?
(I nod. I've always loved signing things for fans. No matter what side of the spectrum I'm supposedly on at the time. For me, the separation of personal and professional life is crucial if one is to have any success in either.
I get it, some people feel as if you need to keep up appearances. That you shouldn't allow people to be able to pull back the veil.
That there should be an illusion of the two forms being the same. That's *never* been who I am.
Taking the pen I offer him, I look down. Noticing the book he wants me to sign is my own biography.
A biography I commissioned Imogen Harris to write last year. During my time away from the ring. Signing it, I hand the pen back to him.)
"Enjoy."
Male: Thank you, I will. Do me a favour; kick Jayson Violence's ass this week, man.
(I laugh. In all the thoughts. All the ruminations about Iser, I had completely forgotten another man who I have had a history with is standing before me. Jayson Violence.)
"I don't make guarantees, but I'll make sure he doesn't forget just what we have done. Our dances once we are done this week."
(The male walks off as I crack a smile. To me, it's not about winning or losing. It's not about the Pureblood title - as it is merely an instrument. A symbol of my influence within this realm, even if I am not the one holding the belt. It is a sign that the poison. The decay is slowly being extracted from the realm. That the purity is taking its hold, no matter what people might wish to believe. Just as it will continue to do so, as long as the light continues to shine through. *That* is all I have commanded. Walking, I cast a glance at some of the various stores that make up the mall. Trying to figure out not only how to approach this week's bout, but also how to prepare. How to unlock the secrets of what is to come.)
"When war arrives, how are we to strike? When war arrives, how are we to engage? Jayson, this week - it's not about you. This battle is not merely about the finale. About your own gates. Rather, this is one on a grander scale."
(I take a soft breath.)
"A scale that not even *I* comprehend at this time. Yet just know, you are but a piece of the grander puzzle."
(Closing my eyes, I let out another soft breath.)
"That you aren't the end game. Yet don't think I'm just gonna let you slip away. I won't."
(Opening my eyes, I see Bianca beginning to walk towards me, coming from the left-hand side.)
"For you must still pay the price for the flames. For the moment you wandered into my realm."
(I laugh chillingly, as I look over at Bianca.)
"See you Monday."
(I smile, as I walk towards Bianca. My focus fully on the clothing she has bought for herself.)
(End).
Location: Pensacola, Florida.
---
(Taking a bit of a different routine this week, considering the fact that we were already down here. Usually, I would have driven back up to Auburn and spent time with Bianca, Lucina, Amelia and Chilli but this week - I told the 3 of them that we needed to switch things up. At least *try* and escape from the chaotic landscape; take time for ourselves. An escape from everything that's burning around us, if nothing else.
Something that we really haven't had in recent months. That's mostly my fault, I can admit that much, as I know Bianca has been taking Amelia and Chilli out. Letting them clear their minds. I just haven't been able to join them - until now. Especially considering that I was able to find us an apartment.
Well, I wouldn't say "find", considering it is owned by Aime Browers, a long-time friend of mine, but nonetheless able to access it.
That's neither here nor there though, as I currently walk through the Pensacola mall, doing some general shopping as well as waiting for Bianca to finish up with her own modelling of clothes. Uh, I mean her own clothes shopping.
Yeah, she usually turns clothes shopping into a mini catwalk show, but I can't blame her honestly. Who can? She has the body to pull *any* look off; I'm not just saying this because I have to either. I'm saying it because it's the truth. She's an absolute model when it comes to her looks and clothing.
And yes, I know I'm focusing on the superficial right now, which *isn't* the compete reason I love her as much as I do, but it's what people instantly are drawn to.
Though either way, I continue my walk through the mall, watching as a few people wall past me. Going about their own lives and shopping, electing not to pester me or ask for an autograph.
Not that fans asking me questions when I out bother me because it doesn't. It's always great to know the fans outside of the ring. On a personal rather than a professional level - or well, as personal as a conversation in the street can be.
Smiling, I notice a bench by a water fountain and wander over to it, sitting down. Taking some time to actually ponder the outcome of the battle royal; how Seth Iser was the next name to decide he wanted to come after me. The next name, who wanted to engage in warfare on both fronts. Physical and psychological.)
"Seth Iser ---"
(Calmly stating this name, I use my right hand to rub the back of my neck. Attempting to ensure that there is still blood flowing through it, because if I'm being honest here - I thought I had broken it when he connected with the tombstone off the top rope. Like, for real. I couldn't feel a thing for like 5 minutes after he connected with the move.
Especially with the pinched nerve, I have in my neck - or rather, had. In the past, I wouldn't have worried about it. I would have felt soreness, yes, but it wouldn't have bothered me.
Yet right now, it does.
Maybe it's the battle scars. Maybe it's arthritis. Maybe it's just my own paranoia. Or maybe, it's a combination of all 3, bundled into one.)
"Is this the supposed 'reaper'? Is this the persona who has been sent to cause *me* to look inside of my own mirror? The one, who is to bring about my own mortality?"
(I sigh, allowing myself time to reflect. Time to at least attempt to unlock the secrets that lay within Iser. A man, that I only know from passing stories. A man, who I have never encountered prior to him coming after me.)
"They always say that the most dangerous being is the one who lurks in the shadows. Waiting for the right moment to strike. Unknown, until they reveal themselves; play their hand. The 'wolf in sheep's clothing' as the old adage goes."
(Pushing myself upwards, I continue my walk. My mind still fixated on Iser and just *what* he could desire from me.)
"For it is them, who controls the narrative. It is them, who causes one to challenge even their own identity. Doubt just who it is that they portray."
(I let out a soft breath.)
"Attempt to figure out, just what they truly desire."
(I walk past an EB games, which is still closed due to the coronavirus pandemic, as much as being able to search through; potentially find a video game right now would help to alleviate the stress. Alleviate the pressure valve that is within my mind.
Causing me to almost fall into a state of anger. A state of rage that would awaken 'Zion'. That would cause off of my work to become undone. Go up in plumes of smoke. No matter how valiant I am. No matter how hard I fight to repress him. Even *I* have my tipping point.)
?: Excuse me.
(My train of thought is interrupted by the sound of a teenage male standing in front of me. I had become so distracted, that I hadn't noticed him walking down the same strip, in the opposite direction to me.)
"Yes?"
(He looks at me, smiling. Excited for some reason.)
Male: You're Scotty Adams, right? The pinnacle of Purity? The Silver Bullet?
(I laugh to myself, nodding.)
"Yep, that's me."
(My voice cheesy, he beams upon hearing that.)
Male: Aye. I'm a *massive* fan of your work in the ring. Been a fan of yours since 2011.
(I smile. As course and abrasive as I might appear outwardly, I'm a softie at heart. Always have been.)
"Thanks. It means a lot to me, seriously."
(The male smiles, almost in amazement that I'm openly interacting with him. Especially with how, as I mentioned before, abrasive I can be.)
Male: Yeah. Do you mind signing my book for me?
(I nod. I've always loved signing things for fans. No matter what side of the spectrum I'm supposedly on at the time. For me, the separation of personal and professional life is crucial if one is to have any success in either.
I get it, some people feel as if you need to keep up appearances. That you shouldn't allow people to be able to pull back the veil.
That there should be an illusion of the two forms being the same. That's *never* been who I am.
Taking the pen I offer him, I look down. Noticing the book he wants me to sign is my own biography.
A biography I commissioned Imogen Harris to write last year. During my time away from the ring. Signing it, I hand the pen back to him.)
"Enjoy."
Male: Thank you, I will. Do me a favour; kick Jayson Violence's ass this week, man.
(I laugh. In all the thoughts. All the ruminations about Iser, I had completely forgotten another man who I have had a history with is standing before me. Jayson Violence.)
"I don't make guarantees, but I'll make sure he doesn't forget just what we have done. Our dances once we are done this week."
(The male walks off as I crack a smile. To me, it's not about winning or losing. It's not about the Pureblood title - as it is merely an instrument. A symbol of my influence within this realm, even if I am not the one holding the belt. It is a sign that the poison. The decay is slowly being extracted from the realm. That the purity is taking its hold, no matter what people might wish to believe. Just as it will continue to do so, as long as the light continues to shine through. *That* is all I have commanded. Walking, I cast a glance at some of the various stores that make up the mall. Trying to figure out not only how to approach this week's bout, but also how to prepare. How to unlock the secrets of what is to come.)
"When war arrives, how are we to strike? When war arrives, how are we to engage? Jayson, this week - it's not about you. This battle is not merely about the finale. About your own gates. Rather, this is one on a grander scale."
(I take a soft breath.)
"A scale that not even *I* comprehend at this time. Yet just know, you are but a piece of the grander puzzle."
(Closing my eyes, I let out another soft breath.)
"That you aren't the end game. Yet don't think I'm just gonna let you slip away. I won't."
(Opening my eyes, I see Bianca beginning to walk towards me, coming from the left-hand side.)
"For you must still pay the price for the flames. For the moment you wandered into my realm."
(I laugh chillingly, as I look over at Bianca.)
"See you Monday."
(I smile, as I walk towards Bianca. My focus fully on the clothing she has bought for herself.)
(End).