Post by Ziggy Morgan on Aug 28, 2021 22:08:23 GMT -5
(A/N First competitive Knox piece in a hot minute. Ty for the collab as usual by Ahmya's handler. Hope yall enjoy it!)
Content Warning: Mentions of suicide and substance abuse
I haven’t written in this in a long time. Since right after I had left Baltimore. But here I am, better late than never right? A lot has happened since I last turned to the written word for comfort. My friend Robert took the leap to becoming a wrestler like he had always dreamed and to the surprise of everyone but myself, the kid has taken to it like a duck to water. Damn near became a World Champion. However, the person across from him was Jenovah. Someone i’d rather not face.
Outside of the ring, he had found love. Real, honest and true love. The kind where the world is changed forevermore because of it. Nao was a sweet girl, far too pure for this world. On the surface it was straight out of a movie. Boy meets girl, they fall out of contact. Boy finds girl in a bad situation, saves her, helps get her career back on track. She in turn helped him find a new level of confidence, made him better just through her presence and warmth.
But of course, there is more to it. Human traffickers hunting her down, her estranged and formerly criminal little sister showing up, Naoko’s brain injury...there is so much I could write but if I did? It would take up the entirety of this journal.
So let’s just focus on the surface, yes? They became a team, in every sense of the word. On the first night as a tag team they captured the tag titles in Level Up. Gloves...for some reason? Not the point, though. The point is that they were riding high. Champions, wins over most of the roster and even against the Supreme Machine. A man who nearly killed me when we did battle. Life was perfect for them…
Then, the Clown.
Always the fucking CLOWN.
And what’s worse? I sent this one to Indy. She seemed a quirky rookie looking for a home...had I known? Christ, had I known…
Another brilliant fuck up by the king of them.
The night she assaulted Robert, I was no more than a mile or two from the arena in a small chapel exchanging vows with a perfect stranger and someone who fit perfectly with my broken pieces. The news hit me as soon as we stepped from the chapel. Consummation and crossing thresholds suddenly thrown aside as silly notions. I rushed to the hospital, finding Naoko Catatonic and Bert beaten worse than anything I had ever seen.
My blood hasn’t quit boiling. Of course I blame Ragdoll for this. But not near as much as I blame myself. Through the fires of those self loathings I will make her pay. Make her burn.
I’ve started to ramble, haven't I old friend? Maybe I never stopped…
The bourbon has made the pen far too unreliable, and the woman sleeping in our bed is far warmer than the thought of revenge so here, I’ll end it..
And soon, with that clown? I’ll end that too.
He sat upon the roof of Caesars Palace, camel non filter between his lips as he stared at the setting sun. Below him on the street and in the casino a million faceless drones marched along, willingly risking the mortgage payment and junior’s college fund in hopes of the odds being in their favor just that one time they needed to be. Desperate for a change in their mundane existence, reliant on a windfall of cash doing just that.
Wholly ignorant of how he would give everything up to live in their wretched, accursed mundanity.
Another long drag of the cigarette before he flicked it toward the others. He’d expressed the sentiment ad nauseum to those who would give him the time to, but it didn’t make it any less sincere. Especially now when he was so sure the end was drawing nigh. Coincidence was one of the few things he had little belief in. Nothing in life was so simple. No, it all had weight. Had reason.
He had won the second Roth tournament, and was blindsided with a world title out of it.
He had won a tournament to become the inaugural World Champion of a brand new company. Pro Wrestling Valor, or PWV as it would be known in the press and on the T shirts. He had won the tournament on PPV in Madison Square Garden in the heat of summer.
He produced his zippo, sparking up another cigarette as his mind wandered back to the catalyst of his self destruction.
He won a tournament to become the inaugural World Champion of a brand new company. Phoenix Wrestling Enterprise, or PWE as it would be known in the press and on the T-shirts. He had won the tournament on PPV in Madison Square Garden in the heat of the summer.
Near thirteen years apart to the day..
He closed his eyes, awash in the memories of the day. He was surrounded and awash in congratulations from everyone but Tapp Adams. Clarissa Claire was there, vying for his attention. He had fucked her in a drunken fervor the night before...although to be fair, the time between Uprising’s Solstice Pay Per View and Cameron Roth’s second tournament was all a drunken fervor. Brought upon by the guilt of his friend’s untimely professional demise in the Terrordome.
Still, though. In that sea of activity, with twenty pounds of gold staring at him from next to the ice bath, the two million dollars being transferred to his account and the trophy to tie it together? He was alone and terrified. Terrified of the truth he had not wanted to meet the gaze of, but now was forced to.
Then he got one message, from someone who should not have understood or seen the terror but did..
In an instant he knew, and surrendered himself to the whirlwind.
He shook the musings then, taking another drag from his new cigarette before exhaling the noxious fumes. He knew now, his truth. The simple truth that had bit at him but never received his acknowledgement.
He wanted to die.
And he was almost ready to, now.
Tragic as it may have been, life repeating one of his most traumatic times near note for note in it’s song, it presented him with a plethora of opportunities. Be the champion he was meant to be. Fight all comers and cement his professional legacy even further. Help legitimize Cam Roth’s vision and prop PWV up the way his abandonment of PWE doomed it.
And on a personal level? He could finally, fully right all the wrongs he had committed as a father. Sure, he had been doing that since he came back last year. Reconnecting with Hope, helping her become independent of her Grandfather’s influence. He had taken on the task of informing Ivy of the less desirable heredity traits. Namely, what was either schizophrenia or some sort of hellspawn that drove you toward your darkest desires..
Another drag, a chuckle at the absurdity. Family was such a funny thing in his world. He had recently found his mother’s side of the family, after all this time. And they were right in front of him for the better part of the last year, shedding precious lifeblood in wars that would make the most battle hardened veteran cringe in disgust and terror.
His darling cousins, Thomas and Jennifer Rivers.
While Thomas, or Supreme Machine as the ‘biz’ knew him, wasn’t worth a damn since the discovery? Jennifer had proven to be near invaluable and quietly as excited for new family as he was. It was unconventional but she had proven invaluable in helping him explain the ‘family problem’ to Ivy and had overall been pleasant, nigh refreshing. Her wrath was much more appreciated on his side than something to oppose.
She had even taken to looking after Robert and Naoko. Or, Bert and Ahmya as everyone knew them.
However, not even she could prevent what had happened.
A sneer, a deeper drag, the smoke almost spat out into the evening air.
The stars seemed to align that night, leaving Bert and Ahmya alone to face the wrath of that wretched clown. The painted bitch and her pointless, hateful wrath. He cringed internally as he thought of the image over, and over again.Bert held in place while she swung and connected again, and again, and again, and again..
The way Ahmya slipped away was the closest thing to mercy to be found that night. His face twitched, his blood boiled as he remembered her mocking pantomime.
He had failed Robert that night, and for selfish reasons. No matter what way it was framed, no matter the passion or the love he felt for the person he now shared a last name with? He should have been there for the closest thing to a son he had.
“I’m sorry, kid..” he whispered to the wind. He knew Robert wouldn’t want to hear it, aside from the tension that had started to rise between them? The kid never accepted any sort of apology. It was one of his many endearing qualities. Which only served to redouble the wrathful hatred he felt for Jaclyn Pierrot.
A grin cracked his features as he remembered the way her face sank when the lights came on and she found Isaac had been removed from the equation, and he stood between her and her intended target. There had been very few blows landed in his entire life as satisfying as that roundhouse kick. The fear he felt when he nearly locked in the Katahajime before indiscernible goon B caught him with a sucker punch was a close second though.
A quiet chuckle as he flicked the cigarette away and moved toward the door back into the hotel. It ended about as he expected. The cowards backed up, a defiant and childish hand gesture from a defiant child, quaking in her ring boots despite how vehemently she’d deny it. He foiled her yet again in UGWC, wrestling that damn chair with the perfect imprint of Bert’s skull away from her.
And then he was asked by Duncan Shepard, a man who was as overemployed as himself, to assist n a tag match in UGWC.Jaclyn had, apparently, aligned herself with the Astro-creeps. He paused as he entered the stairwell, closing the door behind him and taking a moment to bury the rage he felt aimed at the group of freaks. Tempest and Bert seemed to have some sort of understanding going in. A mutual respect via combat.
But of course, that was all out the window now for as far as he could see as the creeps had aligned themselves with the clown.
Monsters showing no honor and lacking any sort of decent character judgement.
A disgusted shake of his head, he runs a tired and weathered hand over his face before he begins heading down the steps, toward his room.
Toward solace.
Toward her.
Matthew sat on the veranda, overlooking the Las Vegas skyline, He was dressed in a faded black T Shirt and a pair of equally faded levis. A chuckle, faded like he was fading. He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out the little velvet box, turning it over in his fingers once before shoving it back in his pocket as he felt her presence shift behind him in the room. A bemused smile cracking his lips from their perpetually neutral line.
He had known Mari for only days past a month, and yet from the first night in Reno it was like he had found someone that he had been searching for, for all his life. She was the only one who knew his desire to go, and accepted it without judgement. She didn’t patronize him with soft notions of how the world still needed him, how he was loved and his death would ruin so much for so many. She allowed him this one bit of selfishness.
And with the intensity of the burning sun, he loved her for it.
However, admittedly, he was not near as good to her as she was to him. She too wanted to leave for her sins. Ones she deemed irredeemable. He hadn’t been open with her, not wholly. Not yet. But he wanted her to live long after letting him slip away to whatever waited for him after. She was young, she loved more intensely than she let on. Her light shone bright, no matter how hard she tried to blot it out..
She was right behind him..
Even with the quietest of steps, there was always that one thing that gave away her presence mand once found, she never shied away from admitting it. Even without their eyes meeting, she offered a small smile. “そこにはいつもたくさんのことが起こっています...あなたの心とあなたの頭の中で...” She took an extra step following these words, still seeming a bit on soft side, just in case.
Her words brought a smile to him behind the hand he rested his face in, concealing his lips a moment. He drops it, along with all of his defenses as he was usually apt to doing around her. It was amazing, the secret languages lovers come up with. Whole conversations in a series of looks and nothing else.
A lift of a hand and hers slid into his. He stared gently at it, marveling the way her smaller hand looked within his. The scars covering both of them from years of combat. Glasz eyes trail up her arm, to her face and those smoldering amber orbs "With you near, how can they be anything but full?" He asked, pulling her toward him while deftly sliding the box from his pocket. "Are many watching us tonight?"
A held back chuckle, single in number but far more telling than a mess of them. Her eyes trail over to their hands and the smile remains for a moment. “They are always watching, plentiful and calculating. I know that you know this already. The question almost leads me to believe you are readying a show, my dear.” A slight shift in expression. “Not that I mind of course. You know I welcome that and all you have going on within.”
Most nights, just the implication was enough to lunge at her, feast upon her being and sate the beast she brought about within him. For a moment, he considered it. But no..not tonight.
Well.. not right now.
He cleared his throat, shaking his head "You do so much for me..have done so much for me...it's high time I do something just for you, Mrs. Knox…" he shifted her hand so her palm faced the heavens, leaning in and planting a kiss within it before gently placing the little black velvet box in the stead of his lips.
"As promised, a gift.." The sentiment brought about the softest of awws that she didn’t exactly hold back, but didn’t accentuate either. Gazing upon the box, her curiosity rose, a tint of rose matching the feeling. Barely another moment passed before she gave in and opened the little box, taking a look inside to see what wonderful gift was there.
A gasp.
A half step back.
An overwhelming swirl of emotions.
“あなた...あなたはこれをする必要はありませんでした...私は...ありがとう...” It took everything within her not to lose her composure completely, but the gates were being broken in record time.
He stood then, plucking the ring and sliding it over her finger. He looked up to catch her gaze, before speaking his finger prodded the black band "For the darkness you show me…" the multicolored stones "The mask you wore when we first met…" a smile cracks his face then. His own face flushing with emotion as he fights to finish the sentiment.
"And the diamond...for the light they both make, the one that shines through, no matter how so many have tried to snuff it." He removes his finger then, silently admiring it on her. His words were all it took for that barrier to shatter, tears flowing now. She admires the ring, the symbol, and then the man. A soft exhale follows, along with an embrace exuding excitement. Rarely did she ever showcase this side long thought faded, but he always managed to bring it out at the most random times and with such ease.
“言葉を超えて美しいです…”
"Yes, you are." He answered. The warmth within melted at the ice, which had almost completely melted away because of her. He took her in his arms then, her small form almost disappeared within them.
A Raven closing its wings around its Dove.
“You’re doing it again.”
He blinked once, eyes narrowing as the voice shattered his reverie and brought him back to the now from wherever his mind had wandered, Years of chair shots and various substances abused left him with no recollection of where that was exactly, and even mocked him further by dragging his recognition of the present out an extra microsecond.
“Doing what, dear?” he asked of the blonde girl seated across from him, who had lifted the oversized porcelain mug to her lips and taken a sip of coffee before gulping it down and answering the man, “Spacing out. I’m guessing one of the ten thousand fights you’ve picked this week is bugging you?”
A snort at the implication as he retrieved his own mug, inhaling the scent of the Kona coffee before taking a slow, savoring the flavor before setting it down and tracing his finger around the rim. Hope Knox, his first child and the only one he had any real hand in raising stared at him with the same placid stare that had caught his attention when he first saw her.
“You could say that, yeah..”
“And I’d hazard a guess it’s the one having to do with Robert?” her own gaze averted to her drink, some festive pumpkin spiced something or other. He answered with a nod as soon as her eyes lifted to meet his. She leaned back in her seat, bringing the mug with her as she seemed to consider everything “I saw the attack, you know. I watch his matches as regularly as I watch yours…” a small smile tugged at her pale lips “Which would be easier, if you didn’t work for so many different promotions.”
“Well, maybe if I hadn’t helped raise some genius with aspirations of being the next Sigmund Freud…”
“I’m much more of an R.D Laing.” she replied coolly and quick as lightning “But, my point is...this woman, who hurt him? She’s unwell. Like, worse than my darling second cousins. They at least seemed to acknowledge the brutality and taboo nature of their actions. But her, this woman?” Hope shook her head slowly. Matthew looked up from watching his finger run laps around the edge of his mug, a quizzical eyebrow arching.
“Elaborate.” he stated simply.
“Leaving aside the fact that she carjacked an Uber driver and kidnapped Robert? Leaving aside her shoving a gun in his face and him only escaping quote ‘by the mercy of the gods of green sticky and icky’” this earned a chuckle from her father, the noted man child when not brooding “She didn’t declare any clear purpose for the savagery. Outside of wanting information on Supreme Machine, but Bert’s education on him then was tantamount to some reddit smark. She had to have known this, too. This wasn’t well planned, it was as important as a trip to the grocery store..”
Silence hung as the younger Knox considered her next words, and the older processed them.
“She seemed to get more enjoyment out of mocking that Ahmya girl than she did the actual act of violence. That’s not to say she didn’t enjoy that as well, but still.” Hope let out a sigh, taking a sip of her drink as she contemplated her next words “It feels...contradictory. I’ve watched it a million times. She goes from savage, to jovial, to angry and spiteful, back to jovial in a matter of mere moments. It’s a game to her….” a shake of the head “I mean, she obviously isn’t interested in accolades or affected by wins and losses”
“She has more signature moments than wins, I'll give you that.” Matthew answers her, lifting his mug to take a drink, but pausing “So, what? You think she attacked Robert because he was wrong place, wrong time?”
“I think it’s a power thing as much as it isn’t.”
“Well that’s helpful.”
“It will be if you’d shut up and listen.”
“I can still ground you.”
“And it’ll work just as well now as it did then.” a curt nod, a chuckle from him and she continued “I think that he represents a lot of things she doesn’t like. He’s popular, he has people who care deeply about him, he refuses to stay down when he should. And most importantly, he could have just as easily been in the same gutters she finds herself stuck in, but proclaims her presence there as her own choice.”
Matthew considered the wisdom of his eldest child, stroking at the stubble on his chin as he did so. After a moment he speaks up, eyes going off to the side to peer at the crowded Las Vegas Blvd.
“I think she’s just a bully.” he replies after a moment, “Maybe she’s troubled, but aren’t we all?”
“You’re making excuses for her?”
“No, the opposite..” he leaned forward, smiling at his child “I’m saying she’s no different, so punishing her for her transgressions? Won’t feel quite as awful as I had imagined it would, initially.”
The silence that followed may have been deemed awkward for any other father and child spending time together, but it was just another oddity to their bond. After a slow sip of her drink and a dry chuckle, her eyes lifted to examine her father;s face, ice blue eyes narrowing as she honed in on the numerous scuffs. Far more than normal, especially given the gap between matches he;d enjoyed lately.
She shook the thought, the question. Instead, she cleared her throat and asked “There going to be a ticket waiting for me, at the level up show? I’d like to examine the place a little more closely...I would have asked Bert for tickets awhile ago, but...you know.”
“Yeah, I know. Hardly answers my calls anymore, either.” he sighs quietly, but nods “Of course. I’ll make sure it's taken care of. But, be careful okay? I don’t think she’s as crazy as Supreme Machine, but..”
“I know.” she replied, eyes shifted down to her drink as she tried to ignore the memories.
“Yeah..” he replied, quietly. For a moment, he slipped away from the small street cafe. The very same one where Bert had recently tried to play hero only for Matthew to destroy the whole effort. Another failure.
Hope had come into his life so unexpectedly. Her paperwork, the adoption? In hindsight very seedy, as he was single, in his twenties and fighting for a living with a very public fondness for drinking. But the Orphanage she was at, the very same he had spent most of his formative years, seemed almost eager to get rid of the scared, angry little blonde girl.
He did his best by her, but she was left with his ex wife and unborn little sister just like everyone else that mattered was when he decided the poison, the vice was more important than anything else. When he decided that he didn’t matter so why should any of them?
Sins he had tried like hell to make up for since coming back. Efforts that had led to Hope being insulted endlessly, called a whore, threatened with physical harm...and still, she was unflappable in the face of it all. Determined to stay with the father who had chosen her the way he was desperate to keep the child he chose close to him.
Outside of the one incident, Sylvie..or Ivy as she had taken to wanting to be called was spared all of the nonsense. But her one and only response? Revealed how much she was like him, reformed their connection if only in the terror at the realization of their shared, hereditary suffering.
Then there was Robert. The one he couldn’t save or defend. The one who was spiteful of his efforts now...He..
“He won’t be mad forever..” her voice, soft and knowing, rang out to snap him from another reverie. She smiled at his gaze, but nothing else was said as she returned to her drink, and he picked up his own mug.
This child of his...
“Oh child, what have you done?”
The camera comes on to reveal the desert sky at sundown. Brilliant purples, reds and pink set the sky ablaze as the day slowly died into a cold and unforgiving night.
“You wanted someone’s attention, clearly. Big, loud outbursts like that?” a pause as the wind howls over the endless, blazing sandscape “How unfortunate you got mine.”
Across the blazing sky, an unkindness of Ravens swoop by silently on the wind, little black blots devouring the color as they flew between it and the eye of the beholder. The soft crunch of approaching footsteps on sand give away his presence before it joins the unkindness, filling the shot with his terrible presence.
He was dressed in his ring gear, black pants with silvered wings stretched the length of his legs. A sleeveless hoodie, hood laid back to reveal slicked back plumage peppered with incoming gray, snow atop the six and a half foot mountain. He lifts his hand to his face, running the tip of his fingers over his painted face, smearing his work. “Oh, you fool. More fool you, Jacky my dear..” a chuckle “I wish I had more to say to you, but you’ve left me so high and dry.”
“If I were a bigger trope, I'd fill this full of clown jokes. Go on and on about how many times i’ve seen you in my far-to-long but also so terribly brief career. How big of a trope I may be, never will I reach your level of...basic.” a chuckle “Instead, let me appeal to you, poke and prod at the why so you can tag me on twitter for a bunch of clever gifs and curse words.”
He slowly falls to his knees, spreading his arms out, painted face softening as an equally softened voice breaks forth, cracking slightly with the weight of empathy "Maybe, I should offer the hugs your father never did? Help fix what's broken?"
"Because you are broken, Darling Jaclyn." A Cheshire grin spreads to match the painted one "Much as you lie and pretend you're the one that really has it figured out? I know your truth."
"Because I live it. Better than you."
Long, pale fingers twitch upon their kneecap roost. Glasz eyes blazing through the thick eyeliner, a set of stormy second suns against the darkening desert sky.
"My time is finite, but not as much as yours. This career, this life of mine? A comedy of tragedies until this past year." Bemused, the gaze goes far off "I failed as a champion, a husband, and worst of all? As a father."
Ashamed, the gaze breaks.
"Everyone knows. I have two daughters. What they also probably know, what I'll confirm now, is that Bert is the closest thing to a son I have in this world."
The eyes refocus. On their rage. On their hate.
On Jaclyn.
"And you hurt him. You tried to end him. And you did it in front of the one person in this world he matters to more than me…" a sound somewhere between a sigh and a chuckle escapes him, voice dropping a sorrowful octave "All just..just to get eyes on you...God it must be torturous to be so alone."
"So see, Jaclyn what you perceive to be my wrath will in fact be my mercy. I will set your mind right. I will help you discover regret through this act of mercy." A longer pause, eyes unmoving and unblinking as they stare at her once more.
Unsettling as a bird perched upon her headstone.
"I don't hate you. I couldn't hate you. It's not in me to hate children. But make no mistake...I don't like you. I don’t like how childish you are. I don’t like that you hurt people I love. I don’t like you trying to insulate yourself with like minded fools in here and UGWC”: he took in a deep inhale, slowly standing as the sun has all but disappeared in the sky behind him.
“It won’t be enough. The win you got on Synergy? Relish it, live within its glory. Because that’s the last indulgence fate has allowed you on this mortal coil. Make no mistake, make no attempt to lie to yourself, to Tempest, to the Faction. Know my truth, THE truth, Miss Jaclyn..” another sighing exhale, his eyes closed.
“Know that I am Raze...know that I am not just Ruin, I am YOUR Ruin...KNOW that I AM the RAVEN. Know, that at Devil May Cry? Lucifer’s tears won’t be the only ones shed...because while the Devil May Cry?”
Now, the smile reappears. Levity laced with venom..
“The Clown WILL die…”
Behind him, the sun has relented to the moon and the night sky. Dying once more until it is revived with the rest of the earth.
Slowly, the shot fades to black. The last sight being his Cheshire grin, and those glasz eyes floating in the darkness of the shot.
Then, nothing.
Content Warning: Mentions of suicide and substance abuse
08/20/21
I haven’t written in this in a long time. Since right after I had left Baltimore. But here I am, better late than never right? A lot has happened since I last turned to the written word for comfort. My friend Robert took the leap to becoming a wrestler like he had always dreamed and to the surprise of everyone but myself, the kid has taken to it like a duck to water. Damn near became a World Champion. However, the person across from him was Jenovah. Someone i’d rather not face.
Outside of the ring, he had found love. Real, honest and true love. The kind where the world is changed forevermore because of it. Nao was a sweet girl, far too pure for this world. On the surface it was straight out of a movie. Boy meets girl, they fall out of contact. Boy finds girl in a bad situation, saves her, helps get her career back on track. She in turn helped him find a new level of confidence, made him better just through her presence and warmth.
But of course, there is more to it. Human traffickers hunting her down, her estranged and formerly criminal little sister showing up, Naoko’s brain injury...there is so much I could write but if I did? It would take up the entirety of this journal.
So let’s just focus on the surface, yes? They became a team, in every sense of the word. On the first night as a tag team they captured the tag titles in Level Up. Gloves...for some reason? Not the point, though. The point is that they were riding high. Champions, wins over most of the roster and even against the Supreme Machine. A man who nearly killed me when we did battle. Life was perfect for them…
Then, the Clown.
Always the fucking CLOWN.
And what’s worse? I sent this one to Indy. She seemed a quirky rookie looking for a home...had I known? Christ, had I known…
Another brilliant fuck up by the king of them.
The night she assaulted Robert, I was no more than a mile or two from the arena in a small chapel exchanging vows with a perfect stranger and someone who fit perfectly with my broken pieces. The news hit me as soon as we stepped from the chapel. Consummation and crossing thresholds suddenly thrown aside as silly notions. I rushed to the hospital, finding Naoko Catatonic and Bert beaten worse than anything I had ever seen.
My blood hasn’t quit boiling. Of course I blame Ragdoll for this. But not near as much as I blame myself. Through the fires of those self loathings I will make her pay. Make her burn.
I’ve started to ramble, haven't I old friend? Maybe I never stopped…
The bourbon has made the pen far too unreliable, and the woman sleeping in our bed is far warmer than the thought of revenge so here, I’ll end it..
And soon, with that clown? I’ll end that too.
Matthew Aloysius Knox.
He sat upon the roof of Caesars Palace, camel non filter between his lips as he stared at the setting sun. Below him on the street and in the casino a million faceless drones marched along, willingly risking the mortgage payment and junior’s college fund in hopes of the odds being in their favor just that one time they needed to be. Desperate for a change in their mundane existence, reliant on a windfall of cash doing just that.
Wholly ignorant of how he would give everything up to live in their wretched, accursed mundanity.
Another long drag of the cigarette before he flicked it toward the others. He’d expressed the sentiment ad nauseum to those who would give him the time to, but it didn’t make it any less sincere. Especially now when he was so sure the end was drawing nigh. Coincidence was one of the few things he had little belief in. Nothing in life was so simple. No, it all had weight. Had reason.
He had won the second Roth tournament, and was blindsided with a world title out of it.
He had won a tournament to become the inaugural World Champion of a brand new company. Pro Wrestling Valor, or PWV as it would be known in the press and on the T shirts. He had won the tournament on PPV in Madison Square Garden in the heat of summer.
He produced his zippo, sparking up another cigarette as his mind wandered back to the catalyst of his self destruction.
He won a tournament to become the inaugural World Champion of a brand new company. Phoenix Wrestling Enterprise, or PWE as it would be known in the press and on the T-shirts. He had won the tournament on PPV in Madison Square Garden in the heat of the summer.
Near thirteen years apart to the day..
He closed his eyes, awash in the memories of the day. He was surrounded and awash in congratulations from everyone but Tapp Adams. Clarissa Claire was there, vying for his attention. He had fucked her in a drunken fervor the night before...although to be fair, the time between Uprising’s Solstice Pay Per View and Cameron Roth’s second tournament was all a drunken fervor. Brought upon by the guilt of his friend’s untimely professional demise in the Terrordome.
Still, though. In that sea of activity, with twenty pounds of gold staring at him from next to the ice bath, the two million dollars being transferred to his account and the trophy to tie it together? He was alone and terrified. Terrified of the truth he had not wanted to meet the gaze of, but now was forced to.
Then he got one message, from someone who should not have understood or seen the terror but did..
“It’s okay.”
7/27/21 4:17 PM
7/27/21 4:17 PM
In an instant he knew, and surrendered himself to the whirlwind.
He shook the musings then, taking another drag from his new cigarette before exhaling the noxious fumes. He knew now, his truth. The simple truth that had bit at him but never received his acknowledgement.
He wanted to die.
And he was almost ready to, now.
Tragic as it may have been, life repeating one of his most traumatic times near note for note in it’s song, it presented him with a plethora of opportunities. Be the champion he was meant to be. Fight all comers and cement his professional legacy even further. Help legitimize Cam Roth’s vision and prop PWV up the way his abandonment of PWE doomed it.
And on a personal level? He could finally, fully right all the wrongs he had committed as a father. Sure, he had been doing that since he came back last year. Reconnecting with Hope, helping her become independent of her Grandfather’s influence. He had taken on the task of informing Ivy of the less desirable heredity traits. Namely, what was either schizophrenia or some sort of hellspawn that drove you toward your darkest desires..
Another drag, a chuckle at the absurdity. Family was such a funny thing in his world. He had recently found his mother’s side of the family, after all this time. And they were right in front of him for the better part of the last year, shedding precious lifeblood in wars that would make the most battle hardened veteran cringe in disgust and terror.
His darling cousins, Thomas and Jennifer Rivers.
While Thomas, or Supreme Machine as the ‘biz’ knew him, wasn’t worth a damn since the discovery? Jennifer had proven to be near invaluable and quietly as excited for new family as he was. It was unconventional but she had proven invaluable in helping him explain the ‘family problem’ to Ivy and had overall been pleasant, nigh refreshing. Her wrath was much more appreciated on his side than something to oppose.
She had even taken to looking after Robert and Naoko. Or, Bert and Ahmya as everyone knew them.
However, not even she could prevent what had happened.
A sneer, a deeper drag, the smoke almost spat out into the evening air.
The stars seemed to align that night, leaving Bert and Ahmya alone to face the wrath of that wretched clown. The painted bitch and her pointless, hateful wrath. He cringed internally as he thought of the image over, and over again.Bert held in place while she swung and connected again, and again, and again, and again..
The way Ahmya slipped away was the closest thing to mercy to be found that night. His face twitched, his blood boiled as he remembered her mocking pantomime.
He had failed Robert that night, and for selfish reasons. No matter what way it was framed, no matter the passion or the love he felt for the person he now shared a last name with? He should have been there for the closest thing to a son he had.
“I’m sorry, kid..” he whispered to the wind. He knew Robert wouldn’t want to hear it, aside from the tension that had started to rise between them? The kid never accepted any sort of apology. It was one of his many endearing qualities. Which only served to redouble the wrathful hatred he felt for Jaclyn Pierrot.
A grin cracked his features as he remembered the way her face sank when the lights came on and she found Isaac had been removed from the equation, and he stood between her and her intended target. There had been very few blows landed in his entire life as satisfying as that roundhouse kick. The fear he felt when he nearly locked in the Katahajime before indiscernible goon B caught him with a sucker punch was a close second though.
A quiet chuckle as he flicked the cigarette away and moved toward the door back into the hotel. It ended about as he expected. The cowards backed up, a defiant and childish hand gesture from a defiant child, quaking in her ring boots despite how vehemently she’d deny it. He foiled her yet again in UGWC, wrestling that damn chair with the perfect imprint of Bert’s skull away from her.
And then he was asked by Duncan Shepard, a man who was as overemployed as himself, to assist n a tag match in UGWC.Jaclyn had, apparently, aligned herself with the Astro-creeps. He paused as he entered the stairwell, closing the door behind him and taking a moment to bury the rage he felt aimed at the group of freaks. Tempest and Bert seemed to have some sort of understanding going in. A mutual respect via combat.
But of course, that was all out the window now for as far as he could see as the creeps had aligned themselves with the clown.
Monsters showing no honor and lacking any sort of decent character judgement.
A disgusted shake of his head, he runs a tired and weathered hand over his face before he begins heading down the steps, toward his room.
Toward solace.
Toward her.
Hours later...
Matthew sat on the veranda, overlooking the Las Vegas skyline, He was dressed in a faded black T Shirt and a pair of equally faded levis. A chuckle, faded like he was fading. He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out the little velvet box, turning it over in his fingers once before shoving it back in his pocket as he felt her presence shift behind him in the room. A bemused smile cracking his lips from their perpetually neutral line.
He had known Mari for only days past a month, and yet from the first night in Reno it was like he had found someone that he had been searching for, for all his life. She was the only one who knew his desire to go, and accepted it without judgement. She didn’t patronize him with soft notions of how the world still needed him, how he was loved and his death would ruin so much for so many. She allowed him this one bit of selfishness.
And with the intensity of the burning sun, he loved her for it.
However, admittedly, he was not near as good to her as she was to him. She too wanted to leave for her sins. Ones she deemed irredeemable. He hadn’t been open with her, not wholly. Not yet. But he wanted her to live long after letting him slip away to whatever waited for him after. She was young, she loved more intensely than she let on. Her light shone bright, no matter how hard she tried to blot it out..
She was right behind him..
Even with the quietest of steps, there was always that one thing that gave away her presence mand once found, she never shied away from admitting it. Even without their eyes meeting, she offered a small smile. “そこにはいつもたくさんのことが起こっています...あなたの心とあなたの頭の中で...” She took an extra step following these words, still seeming a bit on soft side, just in case.
Her words brought a smile to him behind the hand he rested his face in, concealing his lips a moment. He drops it, along with all of his defenses as he was usually apt to doing around her. It was amazing, the secret languages lovers come up with. Whole conversations in a series of looks and nothing else.
A lift of a hand and hers slid into his. He stared gently at it, marveling the way her smaller hand looked within his. The scars covering both of them from years of combat. Glasz eyes trail up her arm, to her face and those smoldering amber orbs "With you near, how can they be anything but full?" He asked, pulling her toward him while deftly sliding the box from his pocket. "Are many watching us tonight?"
A held back chuckle, single in number but far more telling than a mess of them. Her eyes trail over to their hands and the smile remains for a moment. “They are always watching, plentiful and calculating. I know that you know this already. The question almost leads me to believe you are readying a show, my dear.” A slight shift in expression. “Not that I mind of course. You know I welcome that and all you have going on within.”
Most nights, just the implication was enough to lunge at her, feast upon her being and sate the beast she brought about within him. For a moment, he considered it. But no..not tonight.
Well.. not right now.
He cleared his throat, shaking his head "You do so much for me..have done so much for me...it's high time I do something just for you, Mrs. Knox…" he shifted her hand so her palm faced the heavens, leaning in and planting a kiss within it before gently placing the little black velvet box in the stead of his lips.
"As promised, a gift.." The sentiment brought about the softest of awws that she didn’t exactly hold back, but didn’t accentuate either. Gazing upon the box, her curiosity rose, a tint of rose matching the feeling. Barely another moment passed before she gave in and opened the little box, taking a look inside to see what wonderful gift was there.
A gasp.
A half step back.
An overwhelming swirl of emotions.
“あなた...あなたはこれをする必要はありませんでした...私は...ありがとう...” It took everything within her not to lose her composure completely, but the gates were being broken in record time.
He stood then, plucking the ring and sliding it over her finger. He looked up to catch her gaze, before speaking his finger prodded the black band "For the darkness you show me…" the multicolored stones "The mask you wore when we first met…" a smile cracks his face then. His own face flushing with emotion as he fights to finish the sentiment.
"And the diamond...for the light they both make, the one that shines through, no matter how so many have tried to snuff it." He removes his finger then, silently admiring it on her. His words were all it took for that barrier to shatter, tears flowing now. She admires the ring, the symbol, and then the man. A soft exhale follows, along with an embrace exuding excitement. Rarely did she ever showcase this side long thought faded, but he always managed to bring it out at the most random times and with such ease.
“言葉を超えて美しいです…”
"Yes, you are." He answered. The warmth within melted at the ice, which had almost completely melted away because of her. He took her in his arms then, her small form almost disappeared within them.
A Raven closing its wings around its Dove.
8/27/21
Las Vegas
“You’re doing it again.”
He blinked once, eyes narrowing as the voice shattered his reverie and brought him back to the now from wherever his mind had wandered, Years of chair shots and various substances abused left him with no recollection of where that was exactly, and even mocked him further by dragging his recognition of the present out an extra microsecond.
“Doing what, dear?” he asked of the blonde girl seated across from him, who had lifted the oversized porcelain mug to her lips and taken a sip of coffee before gulping it down and answering the man, “Spacing out. I’m guessing one of the ten thousand fights you’ve picked this week is bugging you?”
A snort at the implication as he retrieved his own mug, inhaling the scent of the Kona coffee before taking a slow, savoring the flavor before setting it down and tracing his finger around the rim. Hope Knox, his first child and the only one he had any real hand in raising stared at him with the same placid stare that had caught his attention when he first saw her.
“You could say that, yeah..”
“And I’d hazard a guess it’s the one having to do with Robert?” her own gaze averted to her drink, some festive pumpkin spiced something or other. He answered with a nod as soon as her eyes lifted to meet his. She leaned back in her seat, bringing the mug with her as she seemed to consider everything “I saw the attack, you know. I watch his matches as regularly as I watch yours…” a small smile tugged at her pale lips “Which would be easier, if you didn’t work for so many different promotions.”
“Well, maybe if I hadn’t helped raise some genius with aspirations of being the next Sigmund Freud…”
“I’m much more of an R.D Laing.” she replied coolly and quick as lightning “But, my point is...this woman, who hurt him? She’s unwell. Like, worse than my darling second cousins. They at least seemed to acknowledge the brutality and taboo nature of their actions. But her, this woman?” Hope shook her head slowly. Matthew looked up from watching his finger run laps around the edge of his mug, a quizzical eyebrow arching.
“Elaborate.” he stated simply.
“Leaving aside the fact that she carjacked an Uber driver and kidnapped Robert? Leaving aside her shoving a gun in his face and him only escaping quote ‘by the mercy of the gods of green sticky and icky’” this earned a chuckle from her father, the noted man child when not brooding “She didn’t declare any clear purpose for the savagery. Outside of wanting information on Supreme Machine, but Bert’s education on him then was tantamount to some reddit smark. She had to have known this, too. This wasn’t well planned, it was as important as a trip to the grocery store..”
Silence hung as the younger Knox considered her next words, and the older processed them.
“She seemed to get more enjoyment out of mocking that Ahmya girl than she did the actual act of violence. That’s not to say she didn’t enjoy that as well, but still.” Hope let out a sigh, taking a sip of her drink as she contemplated her next words “It feels...contradictory. I’ve watched it a million times. She goes from savage, to jovial, to angry and spiteful, back to jovial in a matter of mere moments. It’s a game to her….” a shake of the head “I mean, she obviously isn’t interested in accolades or affected by wins and losses”
“She has more signature moments than wins, I'll give you that.” Matthew answers her, lifting his mug to take a drink, but pausing “So, what? You think she attacked Robert because he was wrong place, wrong time?”
“I think it’s a power thing as much as it isn’t.”
“Well that’s helpful.”
“It will be if you’d shut up and listen.”
“I can still ground you.”
“And it’ll work just as well now as it did then.” a curt nod, a chuckle from him and she continued “I think that he represents a lot of things she doesn’t like. He’s popular, he has people who care deeply about him, he refuses to stay down when he should. And most importantly, he could have just as easily been in the same gutters she finds herself stuck in, but proclaims her presence there as her own choice.”
Matthew considered the wisdom of his eldest child, stroking at the stubble on his chin as he did so. After a moment he speaks up, eyes going off to the side to peer at the crowded Las Vegas Blvd.
“I think she’s just a bully.” he replies after a moment, “Maybe she’s troubled, but aren’t we all?”
“You’re making excuses for her?”
“No, the opposite..” he leaned forward, smiling at his child “I’m saying she’s no different, so punishing her for her transgressions? Won’t feel quite as awful as I had imagined it would, initially.”
The silence that followed may have been deemed awkward for any other father and child spending time together, but it was just another oddity to their bond. After a slow sip of her drink and a dry chuckle, her eyes lifted to examine her father;s face, ice blue eyes narrowing as she honed in on the numerous scuffs. Far more than normal, especially given the gap between matches he;d enjoyed lately.
She shook the thought, the question. Instead, she cleared her throat and asked “There going to be a ticket waiting for me, at the level up show? I’d like to examine the place a little more closely...I would have asked Bert for tickets awhile ago, but...you know.”
“Yeah, I know. Hardly answers my calls anymore, either.” he sighs quietly, but nods “Of course. I’ll make sure it's taken care of. But, be careful okay? I don’t think she’s as crazy as Supreme Machine, but..”
“I know.” she replied, eyes shifted down to her drink as she tried to ignore the memories.
“Yeah..” he replied, quietly. For a moment, he slipped away from the small street cafe. The very same one where Bert had recently tried to play hero only for Matthew to destroy the whole effort. Another failure.
Hope had come into his life so unexpectedly. Her paperwork, the adoption? In hindsight very seedy, as he was single, in his twenties and fighting for a living with a very public fondness for drinking. But the Orphanage she was at, the very same he had spent most of his formative years, seemed almost eager to get rid of the scared, angry little blonde girl.
He did his best by her, but she was left with his ex wife and unborn little sister just like everyone else that mattered was when he decided the poison, the vice was more important than anything else. When he decided that he didn’t matter so why should any of them?
Sins he had tried like hell to make up for since coming back. Efforts that had led to Hope being insulted endlessly, called a whore, threatened with physical harm...and still, she was unflappable in the face of it all. Determined to stay with the father who had chosen her the way he was desperate to keep the child he chose close to him.
Outside of the one incident, Sylvie..or Ivy as she had taken to wanting to be called was spared all of the nonsense. But her one and only response? Revealed how much she was like him, reformed their connection if only in the terror at the realization of their shared, hereditary suffering.
Then there was Robert. The one he couldn’t save or defend. The one who was spiteful of his efforts now...He..
“He won’t be mad forever..” her voice, soft and knowing, rang out to snap him from another reverie. She smiled at his gaze, but nothing else was said as she returned to her drink, and he picked up his own mug.
This child of his...
“Oh child, what have you done?”
The camera comes on to reveal the desert sky at sundown. Brilliant purples, reds and pink set the sky ablaze as the day slowly died into a cold and unforgiving night.
“You wanted someone’s attention, clearly. Big, loud outbursts like that?” a pause as the wind howls over the endless, blazing sandscape “How unfortunate you got mine.”
Across the blazing sky, an unkindness of Ravens swoop by silently on the wind, little black blots devouring the color as they flew between it and the eye of the beholder. The soft crunch of approaching footsteps on sand give away his presence before it joins the unkindness, filling the shot with his terrible presence.
He was dressed in his ring gear, black pants with silvered wings stretched the length of his legs. A sleeveless hoodie, hood laid back to reveal slicked back plumage peppered with incoming gray, snow atop the six and a half foot mountain. He lifts his hand to his face, running the tip of his fingers over his painted face, smearing his work. “Oh, you fool. More fool you, Jacky my dear..” a chuckle “I wish I had more to say to you, but you’ve left me so high and dry.”
“If I were a bigger trope, I'd fill this full of clown jokes. Go on and on about how many times i’ve seen you in my far-to-long but also so terribly brief career. How big of a trope I may be, never will I reach your level of...basic.” a chuckle “Instead, let me appeal to you, poke and prod at the why so you can tag me on twitter for a bunch of clever gifs and curse words.”
He slowly falls to his knees, spreading his arms out, painted face softening as an equally softened voice breaks forth, cracking slightly with the weight of empathy "Maybe, I should offer the hugs your father never did? Help fix what's broken?"
"Because you are broken, Darling Jaclyn." A Cheshire grin spreads to match the painted one "Much as you lie and pretend you're the one that really has it figured out? I know your truth."
"Because I live it. Better than you."
Long, pale fingers twitch upon their kneecap roost. Glasz eyes blazing through the thick eyeliner, a set of stormy second suns against the darkening desert sky.
"My time is finite, but not as much as yours. This career, this life of mine? A comedy of tragedies until this past year." Bemused, the gaze goes far off "I failed as a champion, a husband, and worst of all? As a father."
Ashamed, the gaze breaks.
"Everyone knows. I have two daughters. What they also probably know, what I'll confirm now, is that Bert is the closest thing to a son I have in this world."
The eyes refocus. On their rage. On their hate.
On Jaclyn.
"And you hurt him. You tried to end him. And you did it in front of the one person in this world he matters to more than me…" a sound somewhere between a sigh and a chuckle escapes him, voice dropping a sorrowful octave "All just..just to get eyes on you...God it must be torturous to be so alone."
"So see, Jaclyn what you perceive to be my wrath will in fact be my mercy. I will set your mind right. I will help you discover regret through this act of mercy." A longer pause, eyes unmoving and unblinking as they stare at her once more.
Unsettling as a bird perched upon her headstone.
"I don't hate you. I couldn't hate you. It's not in me to hate children. But make no mistake...I don't like you. I don’t like how childish you are. I don’t like that you hurt people I love. I don’t like you trying to insulate yourself with like minded fools in here and UGWC”: he took in a deep inhale, slowly standing as the sun has all but disappeared in the sky behind him.
“It won’t be enough. The win you got on Synergy? Relish it, live within its glory. Because that’s the last indulgence fate has allowed you on this mortal coil. Make no mistake, make no attempt to lie to yourself, to Tempest, to the Faction. Know my truth, THE truth, Miss Jaclyn..” another sighing exhale, his eyes closed.
“Know that I am Raze...know that I am not just Ruin, I am YOUR Ruin...KNOW that I AM the RAVEN. Know, that at Devil May Cry? Lucifer’s tears won’t be the only ones shed...because while the Devil May Cry?”
Now, the smile reappears. Levity laced with venom..
“The Clown WILL die…”
Behind him, the sun has relented to the moon and the night sky. Dying once more until it is revived with the rest of the earth.
Slowly, the shot fades to black. The last sight being his Cheshire grin, and those glasz eyes floating in the darkness of the shot.
Then, nothing.
