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Roleplay Boards => Archived Roleplays => Climax Control Archives => Topic started by: JT Midas on October 20, 2016, 09:01:04 PM
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I'm alive in here, so alive in here.
But then, living really is only perception. The difference between living and surviving is a dense line, harder to pass than a kidney stone, and infinitely more painful once you find yourself on the wrong side of the line.
So tell me, where do you stand? Are you alive, or are you just breathing? Some would say I have lived a thousand lifetimes each night. I guess I would say my depth perception is off, because I got much closer to crossing that line than I thought I did. In fact, for a time, I may have forgotten what it was like to not only survive, but to live, to truly grasp life by the throat and make life my bitch.
If only it were the breathing that I had forgotten.
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Friday
September 30, 2016
A sigh escaped him, as JT drove slowly past the nice condominium home. How many times had he circled the block, unable to simply park his car and walk up the intimidating pathway and steps leading to the doorway? He had lost count, as he made yet another turn around the corner. He parked just around the corner from the home, turning the keys in his ignition. The headlights went down as the engine went quiet.
Maybe this was all a big mistake, he thought to himself. Not a lot of thought had been invested into the spontaneous road trip. Would it be so difficult to simply turn around, find a hotel room for the night, head home in the morning? JT could leave right now, and nobody would ever know. He would disappear back to Miami, the city he had called home for the majority of the past twelve months. Life after wrestling hadn't been all too bad, after all. He managed a successful club down south. He partied all day, all night, and made money doing it. He was living the dream surviving.
Who am I kidding, he chuckled softly, as he pulled an unmarked canister from his center console and unscrewed the cap. The long, white pills poured onto his palm like raindrops; JT was simply a rider on the storm. He swallowed a small handful - about five or six pills - and dumped the rest back into their container. He ran his hands over his face and through his hair, and caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror. He didn't recognize the man who stared back at him.
He reached for his keys, hesitating to pull them from the ignition as the war raged on in his head. What if he wasn't welcome here? What if he wasn't even recognized anymore? All things considered, how could he show his face back in Miami after driving all the way to Philly, only to fail? He felt like screaming; instead, he reached under the seat of his car, grabbing a sterling silver flask that he carried with him everywhere he went. Caleb had given it to him for Christmas a number of years prior. It was the perfect gift for an alcoholic on the go.
JT drank from the flask, savoring the smooth whiskey as it washed through him, and he took a breath. Soon, he wouldn't have to stress about this. It was only a matter of time before the familiar warmth of a Xanax high swept over him. This had become routine for JT, as regular as the air he regretfully breathes. It's now or never, he thought, realizing his hands had been clenched on his keys for minutes now. Drawing in one last, deep breath, he turned on the engine, pulling away from the house and headed back toward the main road.
Next time, he said aloud to himself as the condo in his rear view mirror grew smaller and smaller in the distance. Next time.
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Last week went about as well as I thought it would. Alex Rush stayed alive for a while, but in the end the kid is all sizzle without the steak. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy a good party more than anyone. And I can't really blame him for not quite knowing what he was getting himself into. I gotta applaud the kid for showing some nads and congratulating me on social media afterward. Still pretty sure one of his midget friends roofied me at the afterparty, but that's neither here nor there.
Samuel Devereux is my opponent this week, and the SCW internet team has been making quite the fuss about this dude being something of an enigma. I ain't feeling any kinda way about that, though. I've been faced with many opponents in my career, from monsters to men, and even a few tough-as-tacks women. Samuel Devereux just don't do it for me.
Don't get me wrong though. The tale of the tape says you're a force of nature in that ring, but lightning always strikes in the eye of the storm. That's what you get with me, Sammie. I'm lightning in the bottle, and you? You're just a flash in the pan. I've been around the block a couple times by now. I've seen a lot of things. I've been beaten and bloodied, but one thing I ain't ever been is bothered, and I ain't about to start stressing over your advantage in stature. Size ain't everything, kid...or at least that's what I hear people saying.
Here's something else I hear people saying, and I've heard it my whole career. They been saying I just ain't cut out to be a star. They say I'm self-destructive, that I'm my own worst enemy. They ain't exactly wrong, either. I'm a powder keg, ready to explode. All it takes is some fire and the right fuse. And believe me when I say, the fire is back. I ain't had this kinda passion in years. But Sam Devereux, you just ain't the right fuse to put this stick of dynamite away. Nah, if anybody gets the honor of my self-destruction, it's gonna be me. And Sunday just ain't the day.
Play your games, Sam Devereux. Shuffle your cards, pull a rabbit outta your ass, whatever you think you gotta do to put me down, but I'll tell you this much right now - it's gonna take more than a hat trick to fool the SCW audience in San Bernardino, California. They may have cheered for you up until now, but you think they got your back when you're standing across the Outlaw Star? I'll have you Crossfaded before you can say "Abra-kadabra," and in the blink of an eye you'll feel my Wicked Ways. You can't beat me, Sam Devereux. You're gonna try, yeah. You'll try. Just like Alex Rush tried. You'll try, but you can't stop me. Nothing can stop me. I'm all the way up.
This Sunday in San Bernardino, you'll watch helplessly as I fall from the sky, and you'll know that It's Lit! Devereux, I'ma send your card castle crumbling down.
Kiss that Queen of Hearts goodbye.
- JT Midas