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| The Harsh Tutelage of Scott Draven; Will all this training kill Bill? | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Feb 19 2005, 04:10 AM (85 Views) | |
| Minister Wighty | Feb 19 2005, 04:10 AM Post #1 |
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Opossum Queen of FIW
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Despite the title, we don't open up anywhere near China, nor is Tier anywhere to be seen. In fact, it's just Bill, bag over his shoulder, walking down the hall. He's stopped by a plucky Toby Bostock. TB: Sex Machine Gun! Can I get a few words? BK: Sorry, Toblerone. Ain't got the time. Gotta grab Sammie, then I'm off to do some training. TB: Aw, c'mon, Bill! It's been forever since we talked! I spent an entier lunch break making up these questions! BK: Later, Tobes. I promise. I just don't have the time now, and I don't wanna see what happens if I'm late to train. TB: Pff... fine. Bill walks past Toby, past the men's restroom... and stops short. Was that noise... ? ????: Ohh! Ohhhhh!! Yeaaaaahhhh! Unmistakeably the sound of a male orgasm. Bill stops, looking into the room, but then he turns away, not sure he wants to see anything that might be happening in there. Soon comes the sound of flushing, the washing of hands, and then footsteps. Bill watches as Vinj exits the restroom, a magazine in his hands with a hair-covered, naked, fat man on the cover, "Great American Grizzly" emblazoned across the top. Bill starts and walks very quickly away from the bathroom and that horrible, horrible magazine. BK: Guh. Explains why he likes wrestling Maclay so much... Bill walks to Sam's locker room and knocks on the open door, Sam inside readying a small amount of gear. BK: You ready to go? Sam smiles and nods, kissing Bill before they escape in the hall to a scene fade. We soon fade back in on Bill, conversing with Tier. Sam isn't around, but we assume she's just off getting a snack or something. Tier: So, you've changed you mind? BK: I wouldn't say that. I'd say I'm more open to suggestion now. Tier: We'll start slow then. It's all we can do now, anyway. It'll still be a while before I can get in the ring with you to train you, I still have some healing to do. Bill nods, almost absently, then changes the subject a bit. BK: So, what will you be hitting me with today? Tier smirks, but as usual, it's not a nice one. Tier: A part of your endurance is your strength. Say, for example, you're strong enough to do your suplexes in a fifteen-minute match against Brighty. Consequently, you're able to last at least half an hour against a smaller man. Bill nods, understanding. BK: Ahhh so. Tier: So, first, you'll be wrestling Victor over there... Tier points to a VERY large black man doing squats near the ring. BK: Lovely. Tier: Then you'll be doing some weight training. We'll wrap up with a jog around the gym to cool down, and then I'll see if you need anything more today. Bill nods and heads toward the ring, and we fade out on the image of the masked Tier leaning on his cane. |
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| Minister Wighty | Feb 19 2005, 10:50 AM Post #2 |
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Opossum Queen of FIW
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We fade back in, Tier is now seated in a metal folding chair, watching Bill in a second round with Victor. How do we know it’s the second round? Because I just told you, bitches. Seated next to him with a concerned look on her brow is Sam Kinloch. She sucks air through her teeth as Bill crumples under Victor’s weight. Sam: Are you gonna stop that anytime soon? Tier: When I see fit. He’s still training. Sam: You do know he has a match this week, right? Tier: I am aware of this, yes. Why do you think I’m working him so hard. The match is Tuesday, this is Saturday morning. He has plenty of time to rest up after we’re done here. Sam sighs and returns to watching, but the scenery doesn’t change much. Bill manages a simple suplex, which makes her smile. Sam: How often do you plan on training like this? Tier: As often as necessary. Depends on how things take this week. If it’s poorly, we’ll increase the training. If he takes well, then this amount is good enough until he improves. Sam: How could you possibly increase? You’re taking up most of his time as it is! Tier: Human body only requires six hours of sleep to remain healthy. I haven’t had him here eighteen hours a day, seven days a week. I’d say I could increase it. Sam sighs again and shakes her head. Sam: You’re unbelievable. This warrants Tier’s attention. He turns from Bill to look at Sam and raises an eyebrow above his mask. Tier: I’m unbelievable? I’m sorry, I’m pretty sure I’m not the one summoning the supernatural forces to aid me week in and week out. Tell me, how much blood do you lose on average? Is that why you’re so pale? You could become diseased that way, you know. Not to mention… darker things. Tier’s voice takes on an almost threatening tone with his last pair of words, and he turns back to watch Bill for a moment before fixing his gaze upon Sam. Sam: Ohhh, OK, so you’re going to “train” Bill until he comes back to the hotel and collapses, and in the process of doing that you’re going to give me an education on religion, or spirituality, or whatever it is you’re doing here? Tier’s teeth are all but gritted, and he speaks with a snarl. Tier: I’m going to do whatever it is I feel will take Bill to the level he’s PAYING me to take him to. If you want to point fingers and lay blame, try placing it where it belongs. As for my views on your self-righteous suicide, I’m only warning you because I don’t want to see my student’s emotions crippled when you wind up in an asylum. Sam: Oh, how nice of you to take his emotions into account! Backslash sarcasm. Tier: In combat, the state of mind is just as important as the state of body, perhaps even more so. You’d do well to remember that yourself. Sam: Oh? Would I? Enlighten me, then. Tier: I’ve seen your tapes. Watched you perform. You let personal vendettas and overblown emotions take control of your actions and wind up with little proof of your skill. It’s a lesson I myself learned the hard way not long ago. Sam: Personal vendettas? Overblown emotions? Which- - what? Tier: It’s clear your emotions cloud you. For example, the annoyance and seedlings of hatred you’re feeling for me right now are keeping you from even the most recent of memories. Your little spat with Torrie. Your “drop-off”. Cute. Proved a point. Ultimately, however, it would have proved a larger point to cripple her. Or steal the match from her, deny her a tag. You lose a victory your way. I found myself in a similar mindset. Saw fit to demolish my opponents with whatever weapon I could find, victory be damned. I eventually learned the error of my ways, however. Sam: Ah, what a fount of advice and wisdom you seem to be. More sarcasm. Isn’t she just the cutest? Tier: Are you more irritated that I’m “over”working your boyfriend, or that I’m right about your own techniques? Hmmm… Sam: My techniques are fine, thank you. And I’m mostly just irritated that you seem to think that you’re a God of some sort. Tier responds to this, of course, with peals of deep laughter. Tier: I’ll be sure to send you a letter when your career upends and Bill leaves you. Your threefold law shouldn’t allow you to continue along your current path too much longer before such success goes FUBAR. Sam: Ahhh, so you think you know about the laws I live by? Tier: No, dear girl, I know the laws the rest of the world is governed by. You can make up whatever laws for yourself, but that doesn’t mean things work that way, now does it? Bill manages to SLAM Victor to the mat with a belly to belly of all things! He grins and leans down, mockingly urging Victor to get back up. The noise distracts them both, and Sam chuckles at Bill’s progress. Sam: I’m not worried about my career, and I’m not worried about losing Bill. I paid enough in my childhood to not have to worry about my future. Tier: Ohhhhh, so you’re one of those? The downtrodden and abused, you think life owes you something? And you think you can get it by doing what, of all things? Bleeding yourself? I’ll tell you right now; nobody gets in this business and stays in this business without REAL work, REAL sacrifice, and REAL dedication. Sam: I don’t think life OWES me anything- - Tier: Then why are you so willing to take it? Sam: If someone walked up to you on the street and handed you a thousand dollars, would you push it away? Tier: Yes, actually. If someone walked up to me on the street and handed me a thousand dollars then it’s likely counterfeit, or stolen, or dirty in one way or another, but that’s not the issue. You’re not being GIVEN anything; you’re TAKING it. Sam points to the light fixture above her and it fizzles, then dies. The action in the ring stops for a second while the men look to see what happened, but Bill quickly explains it to Victor and they go back to training. Sam: I think that’s a gift. Tier’s face now cast in shadow, and all the more menacing, he grins. Tier: Do you consider that impressive, little girl? There is a pause, and Sam quirks an eyebrow. Sam: Are you trying to impress me, now? ‘Cuz I can play that game, too. Tier: Dear girl. That’s only a taste of what I hold within me. You spend your life bleeding yourself dry, and I spend mine reinforcing myself. Meditation, ancient riddles, strict self-discipline. THAT is where the power lies. The power one can control, that is. Sam takes a deep breath, and a small space of time again passes. Sam: Do you think that I haven’t spent months, years meditating, that I’ve not researched most philosophies, that I don’t know exactly what I’m doing? That when I walked in this door and saw you, I didn’t know exactly what you were? I know what I’m doing. Tier’s grin widens. Tier: No. You don’t. You have absolutely no idea what you’re getting yourself into. This time it’s Sam’s turn to laugh, a snarky, bitchy laugh. Sam: Oh? You going to show me? Or are you just going to sit here and tell me about it? ‘Cuz I could buy a book. Tier: I could spend my energies impressing you, but that would prove ultimately fruitless, for no matter in what fashion I dominate you, you will simply continue your veil of youthful defiance. I’d rather focus them into more worthwhile tasks. Sam: When’d you have that surgery? November, right? If you’re as powerful as you say you are, shouldn’t you be healed and hopping around by now? Tier: Again, it is not necessary. Life teaches us pain, and strife, and those are two very important lessons that must never be unlearned for the sake of a quick and easy existence. I will struggle my way back to 100% the same way I got there in the first place. The light flickers back on with that dull buzz joining the chorus of others in this flourescently lit chamber. Sam: Or, you just can’t do it. Tier: “My God has bigger bombs than your God.” Sam: Cute. Real cute. Tier: Was that the first thing that came to your mind, or is that your default retort when you haven’t anything intelligent to say? Sam: You know, I thought coming here, maybe meeting you, would help me understand why everyone is so excited when your name is mentioned. So far? I don’t get it. You’re just an asshole behind a mask. Tier: And you’re an angst-ridden whelp lying naked before the world. You confidence and attitude are your greatest defense mechanism, and you were stripped of all dignity and moral value when you were raped. Sam stands up, thoroughly pissed, the majority of the lights in the gym flickering wildly. One bodybuilder leaves, watching the ceiling the entire way. She moves so that she’s standing right in front of Tier. Sam: You think you know eeeverything, don’t you? Tier: No. You seem to, however. Which amuses me. The lights continue to flicker until they suddenly stop, all of them on and humming happily. Tier: That’s quite annoying. Sam’s cheekbones poke out a bit, maybe an angry face. We’re not really sure. She certainly doesn’t seem happy. Sam growls a sigh. Tier takes his eyes off her and resituates his cane a bit, then looks back, curious if she’s come up with anything yet. Sam: Did Kailey leave you when she finally realized what an asshole you are? Tier smiles. Tier: No. She left me when I bashed her face in with a chair. Sam takes a step back and nods. Sam: Wonderful. Tier: Not really. I’d explain it to you, but you haven’t given me any good reason to. Sam: So, let me get this straight. Swytch ends up usurping you, your girlfriend leaves you ‘cuz you bash her skull in, and I haven’t seen your Mexican grandpa around, and you’re trying to give ME life advice? Tier: Well, my first bit of advice in that instance would be to detatch yourself from the fag who can’t seem to process any thought other than how much he wants to be your mother and publicly exploit the fact he enjoys the company of men. Sam can’t take no more. She hauls off and swings her arm at Tier, which is caught mere centimeters from his flesh. She swings her other hand, but Tier was a bit more prepared this time, so he catches it before it even reaches him. Before she can react anymore, he pushes himself up off the chair and backs her into a wall, pinning her by her wrists. Tier places his face within a hair’s breadth of hers. So close she can smell the cologne he put on days ago. Tier: Anger fuels your hatred for me and steadily decreases your attention to more important subjects. Your career. Your lover. I said only things that were warranted, whereas you seemed intent on pissing me off. I will tell you right now, though it should go without saying given our current situation, that that is NOT what you want to find yourself doing. NOW… Tier pauses to breathe his warmth upon her cheek. Sam sneers and turns her face farther away from him. Tier: We can do this one of three ways. You can admit that you’ve led your life ridiculously and benefit from what I have learned, you can settle the fuck down and stop acting as a thorn in my side, and consequently your boyfriend’s, or you can continue to fight me, which will only result in you being broken. Make… your choice… wisely. Tier, in one quick motion, releases both of her wrists and takes two steps backward, eyes on hers, waiting. Sam stands, staring at him. In the background, Bill and Victor have stopped to watch this rather quiet battle. Sam: Don’t. Fucking. Pin me. Down. Sam gives into her anger and throws all caution to the wind, leaping at Tier with the rage of a scorned tiger. He braces himself with a forearm against her chest and catches her throat with the other hand, pulling her well off her feet and holding her, flailing, in the air. Bill steps between the ropes and calls out for them to stop, but Sam does not listen and Tier doesn’t drop her. Tier: Stop it. She sends a few kicks to his arm and shoulders, a good, swift one to his chest. He does nothing but grit his teeth and tighten his hold. Tier: Stop it. She doesn’t. Tier darts his eyes to Bill, standing almost dumbfounded about two feet away from them. He shrugs, almost helplessly, too shocked to really know what to do. Tier turns his gaze back on Sam just in time to move his head and avoid a boot to his ear. Tier: If she doesn’t stop it I’m going to be forced to hurt her. I don’t want to have to do that. BK: What the hell am I supposed to do? Tier: I’m only warning you. Any harm that occurs, she brings upon herself. They all stand in relative silence, save for Sam’s grunts of rage, and the sound of rubber on flesh. Tier opts to put her out rather than choke her out, and flings her headlong into the two chairs. Sam collides and twists herself into the steel. Tier looks down at her, then turns to Bill. Tier: You need to talk to her. She’s far too full of rage. Bill still isn’t quite sure what to think, as he just watched and heard the whole thing unfold. The scene fades on his mixed emotions, leaving us all to wonder. |
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