| Local Colors Of Dawn; [Showdown 25 - RP 2] | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: May 10 2008, 01:48 PM (54 Views) | |
| Night | May 10 2008, 01:48 PM Post #1 |
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sVo Legend
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Ding. What a piercing tone. The elevator doors glide open gracefully and I step through, the gaudy lights of the lobby sting my eyes and I squint to be able to see. I reach into the right pocket of my favorite baggy, ripped jeans and pull out my cell phone to check the time: 4:23am I'm awake early - my sleep disturbed once again. It's only been the last few months of my life that I've had sleep problems. Anyone who knows me could tell you that I could literally sleep through an earthquake, as I am assured was the case at one point in my childhood. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a lazy person, but in my dreams I am protected and guided. The answers to the questions of my waking life are shown to me and for this reason it is extremely rare that I should seek the advice of another person. But these last few months... ... until recently I've been haunted by my enemies in my sleep - in particular one, Isaac White. For the first time in my life I died in my dreams and was violently shaken from sleeping. This seems to have stopped for now, thanks, I'm sure, in large part to my sleeping medication - a major source of conflict with Isaac White. It's quite the vicious cycle we've found ourselves in. Now I find myself feeling helpless and wronged - 'The Hope' turns away from me and claims our business is resolved. This is far from the case. And that's why I find myself standing in the lobby of the Capitol World Class Hotel in Milan at just before 4:30 in the morning. Manager: Buon giorno, signor! I trust you had a relaxing sleep? The manager here speaks good English, I spoke to him yesterday when we checked in. Having thousands of tourists throwing broken Italian at you must be a great motivator to learn their languages instead. He is a good man, jovial and friendly... still, I wish he hadn't asked me that and I can't help but cringe. Night: Uh, yes. It was... fine. He gapes at me with mock horror but genuine concern. Manager: But no, signor, was the bed not comfortable enough? Perhaps it was too hard? Too soft? Too big or small? I shake my head the negative out of embarrassment and start edging my way to the door. Night: No, it was great. Manager: Then the pillow was not to your liking? I'm getting closer to the door... Night: There was nothing wrong with the pillow. He looks at me wryly, a cheeky and knowing smile on his face. Manager: Ah, perhaps signor prefers not to sleep alone - maybe you would like me to introduce you to some beautiful Italian women? Night: Well... yea-- Wait a minute... don't get distracted! Night: ... but that's not why I couldn't sleep. Manager: Well, signor, I will not push you for answers you don't want to give, but sometimes a sympathetic ear is all anyone really needs. Night: I... I think I just need to walk. He nods graciously and I find myself relieved that mercifully his bravado filled banter has ended. Manager: Of course, signor, everyone must deal with their own problems in their own way. Night: Which way to the Stadio Giuseppe Meazza? Manager: San Siro Stadium? It's very close - here... He pulls a small map off the counter and begins scrawling on it behind the counter with a pen. Once finished he takes a moment to survey it and, once satisfied with his directions, holds the map on top of the counter. I lean forward to look over it as he points towards a large ink circle. Manager: Ok, we're here. Outside you turn right, follow the road and take the second street on your right - Via Gavirate. Follow that until you get to Via del Rospigliosi and turn left onto that - and that is the road the stadium is on. He folds up the map and hands it to me, taking a long look at my masked face as if trying to place where he met me. Night: Thank you. Manager: Hey, you're going to the stadium - you're one of the wrestlers from America? Night: I am from Japan, but it is an American wrestling company, yes. He laughs heartily and smiles broadly. Manager: Ah, and you are wearing a mask too. Uh... Night: You just noticed? Manager: Did you wear it before? Night: I always wear it. Manager: Oh signor, this is very strange behavior. I'm out of here. Night: I'd better start walking, I have a lot of thinking to do. Manager: Of course, signor, see you when you return. I nod in response and make my way through the grand entrance. Once outside I look upwards, the night sky is still visible, but is now partially illuminiated by the rising sun and the city seems to be bathed in an orange tinted, gold. I look to the map and begin to wind my way down the street towards the stadium. This week I am to face another former Hardcore Champion in Orlando Fox. I know little of this man, but as he once held the same title I did I know not to underestimate him. But this doesn't weigh on me at all. It is a match, just like a match in any other week. And like any other week I go to the ring confident that I am able to beat my opponent, regardless of what he throws at me. But I can't stop thinking about this situation with White. Before Vendetta it seemed I couldn't turn a corner without that guy lurking and waiting to get at me in some way. And now he's intending to just walk away - but last week, I know I reached him. After all I had tried it seemed that the secret to making him hear me was so obvious it was with me all along. Just do unto Hope what he would do unto you... And that's just what I intend to do this week. He doesn't want to face up to my challenge? Then I won't leave him a choice - I know exactly what must be done. |
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8:39 AM Jul 11