Post by Lord Hastings on Oct 4, 2013 13:08:20 GMT -5
Now…
Hastings: …
The knock on the door snaps him to attention.
Hastings: I thought that I said that I wasn’t to be disturbed.
Peterson: I just thought I’d let you know that Travis got my card back to me. I keep telling you, I can just get a duplicate card so you don’t have to keep taking mine.
Hastings: Well, that would defeat the point, wouldn’t it?
Peterson: I suppose.
Hastings: And don’t worry. It wasn’t much. The advice was free, and worth every cent. Like I need advice from a person that takes a gelatin swim when he supposed to be staking his claim to the present.
Peterson: These old bones would roll about with Jezebel in just about anything.
Hastings: That’s disgusting.
Peterson: I’m old, I’m not dead.
Hastings: By all means, but I would trust you to have better taste.
Peterson: Are you and Travis having problems?
Hastings: No. No, of course not. Synergy will see Blessed Immortality triumphant as though we never left, and as dominant as ever. It will be a moment of perfection. Last week, Vain suffered my wrath, a sampling of what Zane has in store for him at Battleground. His allies will continue to fall, one at a time. This week, Cypress and Chaos, a perfect example of what happens when I’m not around for a couple months. These two bottom-feeders are the Cooperative Champs now?
Peterson: Yeah, they were kind of clever about that.
Hastings: There is nothing clever or even original about surrounding yourself with a mob of goons to get your way. I’ve come back to a UGWC with a hopelessly pathetic rosters of champions. You’ve got a child as a Chaos Champion, and a corpse as a Cross-Hemisphere Champion. This place needs an enema.
Peterson: And you really think an “I Quit” Match with Zane is the way to go about that?
Hastings: You miss the point. I am going to embarrass Zane, the way that he embarrassed me. I don’t care how it happens, I don’t care what it takes. He can say it. He can have Damarest throw in a towel for him. Doesn’t matter, so long as he suffers.
There are a few beats of silence.
Peterson: I got the assignment.
Hastings: Zane’s match on Synergy?
Peterson: Yeah.
Hastings: Good. You know what to do.
Then…
Calypso: Is it over!?!?!
Anesthesiologist: They haven’t started yet.
Even now, it consumes you. You hate it.
This is what he has stolen from you. It wasn’t so much as a simple legacy. This wasn’t just about footnotes in history. This was about you having the rest of your life in front of you. This was about being able to leave it all behind.
Even now, you can’t.
Calypso: Oh…my hand, hold my hand.
Yet yours is numb to hers. You know obsession, you have cherished it all your life. Yet this is malfunction of a higher order.
You hate him so much.
The crying snaps you back to reality. Off to the side, they crowd around a bassinet.
Hastings: Wow, already?
Calypso: What do you mean, already!?!?!
You glance down at her.
Calypso: Go, go.
Her hand slips out of yours, and you move so you can see the newborn.
It isn’t real.
There is more crying, this is further back in the room. You stand between the two crowds, uncertain of what to do, where to go.
Nothing is certain anymore. Not since he took away everything that made sense.
You realize you’re standing on the wrong side of the curtain, and the sight reminds you of it again. Seeing red.
Nurse: No, they’re not keeping the placenta.
Which is really too bad, you found that placenta pizza recipe that you saw on the web the other day to be particularly interesting.
You walk back around to her head. She looks so tired.
Calypso: They’re done?
Hastings: The doctor has your stomach in his hands, so no, I don’t think so.
Calypso: Now? You want to piss me off now?!
Hastings: I mean, just kidding.
You glance over the curtain and wince at the sight. Now you can’t un-see it.
It all happens so fast. They’re whisked away, she only gets a passing glance at them. You hear the word jaundice bandied about, something about a rupture.
You see Calypso brought back to her room and settled in, and make your way to the NICU, unprepared for a new life, and an old life standing incomplete and broken.
This isn’t right.
Turns out they both are healthy. Too bad you aren’t.
You lean over a bassinet, looking but not seeing. You’re exhausted, but tonight’s lack of sleep isn’t exactly new. You haven’t slept in weeks. You see your failures in your nightmares.
A tiny tug on your finger brings your vision into focus. Five tiny fingers, wrapped around one of yours.
And suddenly, nothing else matters.
Hastings: …
The knock on the door snaps him to attention.
Hastings: I thought that I said that I wasn’t to be disturbed.
Peterson: I just thought I’d let you know that Travis got my card back to me. I keep telling you, I can just get a duplicate card so you don’t have to keep taking mine.
Hastings: Well, that would defeat the point, wouldn’t it?
Peterson: I suppose.
Hastings: And don’t worry. It wasn’t much. The advice was free, and worth every cent. Like I need advice from a person that takes a gelatin swim when he supposed to be staking his claim to the present.
Peterson: These old bones would roll about with Jezebel in just about anything.
Hastings: That’s disgusting.
Peterson: I’m old, I’m not dead.
Hastings: By all means, but I would trust you to have better taste.
Peterson: Are you and Travis having problems?
Hastings: No. No, of course not. Synergy will see Blessed Immortality triumphant as though we never left, and as dominant as ever. It will be a moment of perfection. Last week, Vain suffered my wrath, a sampling of what Zane has in store for him at Battleground. His allies will continue to fall, one at a time. This week, Cypress and Chaos, a perfect example of what happens when I’m not around for a couple months. These two bottom-feeders are the Cooperative Champs now?
Peterson: Yeah, they were kind of clever about that.
Hastings: There is nothing clever or even original about surrounding yourself with a mob of goons to get your way. I’ve come back to a UGWC with a hopelessly pathetic rosters of champions. You’ve got a child as a Chaos Champion, and a corpse as a Cross-Hemisphere Champion. This place needs an enema.
Peterson: And you really think an “I Quit” Match with Zane is the way to go about that?
Hastings: You miss the point. I am going to embarrass Zane, the way that he embarrassed me. I don’t care how it happens, I don’t care what it takes. He can say it. He can have Damarest throw in a towel for him. Doesn’t matter, so long as he suffers.
There are a few beats of silence.
Peterson: I got the assignment.
Hastings: Zane’s match on Synergy?
Peterson: Yeah.
Hastings: Good. You know what to do.
~
Then…
Calypso: Is it over!?!?!
Anesthesiologist: They haven’t started yet.
Even now, it consumes you. You hate it.
This is what he has stolen from you. It wasn’t so much as a simple legacy. This wasn’t just about footnotes in history. This was about you having the rest of your life in front of you. This was about being able to leave it all behind.
Even now, you can’t.
Calypso: Oh…my hand, hold my hand.
Yet yours is numb to hers. You know obsession, you have cherished it all your life. Yet this is malfunction of a higher order.
You hate him so much.
The crying snaps you back to reality. Off to the side, they crowd around a bassinet.
Hastings: Wow, already?
Calypso: What do you mean, already!?!?!
You glance down at her.
Calypso: Go, go.
Her hand slips out of yours, and you move so you can see the newborn.
It isn’t real.
There is more crying, this is further back in the room. You stand between the two crowds, uncertain of what to do, where to go.
Nothing is certain anymore. Not since he took away everything that made sense.
You realize you’re standing on the wrong side of the curtain, and the sight reminds you of it again. Seeing red.
Nurse: No, they’re not keeping the placenta.
Which is really too bad, you found that placenta pizza recipe that you saw on the web the other day to be particularly interesting.
You walk back around to her head. She looks so tired.
Calypso: They’re done?
Hastings: The doctor has your stomach in his hands, so no, I don’t think so.
Calypso: Now? You want to piss me off now?!
Hastings: I mean, just kidding.
You glance over the curtain and wince at the sight. Now you can’t un-see it.
It all happens so fast. They’re whisked away, she only gets a passing glance at them. You hear the word jaundice bandied about, something about a rupture.
You see Calypso brought back to her room and settled in, and make your way to the NICU, unprepared for a new life, and an old life standing incomplete and broken.
This isn’t right.
Turns out they both are healthy. Too bad you aren’t.
You lean over a bassinet, looking but not seeing. You’re exhausted, but tonight’s lack of sleep isn’t exactly new. You haven’t slept in weeks. You see your failures in your nightmares.
A tiny tug on your finger brings your vision into focus. Five tiny fingers, wrapped around one of yours.
And suddenly, nothing else matters.