Post by nbk on Aug 10, 2011 19:46:22 GMT -5
You were angrier than you had ever been before, the blood pumps through your veins fuelling the fury that engulfs you and you find your fists clenching into tight balls, your fingernails digging deep into your own skin. You couldn't believe what you had seen, you were enraged beyond comprehension. All your hard work, all your creativity, every drop of sweat you have expired, each of the physical and mental stresses your body and mind had been put under, had been unapologetically demeaned and diminished.
How could this have happened? Who the fuck did they think they were? The more you thought about it, the angrier you got. You had never wanted to be in this industry in the first place, an industry fuelled by stupidity and gullibility, the money rolling in from the least desirable members of society, but you had accepted the challenge and acted like a damn professional. You had delivered this company some of the best shots they had seen in their brief life, and this was how they repaid you?
You considered this is the sort of act of pure inconsideration that has on many occasions tipped those shuffling loners who gunned down their workplaces over the edge, luckily for your employers you were not afflicted with any mental illnesses, but you were certainly enraged. You weren't a violent or vengeful person in general, but you couldn't help but smile as certain events unfolded on Synergy, as it seemed like some kind of Karmic retribution, at least for one of the perpetrators of the professional mugging you had been victim of.
But what about the others, those directly and indirectly involved? How could they have allowed this to happen? The fact nobody had the decency to block this, to put a stop to it before this attempt to tarnish your name and reputation before it got out, was as heinous a betrayal as the original act. Did people really value your contribution to this company so little? Did all the progress you'd made mean nothing more than being used as a throwaway punchline to some pathetic joke? Not one person had raised an objection to the whole affair, not a single individual had considered this to be a breach of trust, apparently this kind of behaviour was acceptable. Were people really this heathen?
When you had approached Harvey with your concerns he had just replied something about remembering your place and that the 'talent' brought in the fans and could pretty much do what they wanted. What kind of a practice was that? How did that make any sense whatsoever, it was people like yourself that made a huge difference to this company, did these overgrown thugs really believe they'd look anywhere as near as good without the hard work of people like you? The myths they built around themselves would come crashing down if it wasn't for the likes of you, did they have no respect at all?
Apparently that was just the way it was, but you would be damned if you sat back and took it quietly. You were the one they sent out week after week to catch the psychotic ramblings of a deranged sociopath despite any risk to your own health, you were the one that had to endure this mentally unstable specimens habit for stalking, and you weren't meant to question this constant assignment. You were the one that ventured into the unwelcoming forest with The World Heavyweight Champion, suffering dehydration and heat stroke in the name of this company.
You did all those things, you are the one that suffers on a weekly basis for this company, that has given sweat, blood and tears for the advancement of the product, You! Not some fucking brain dead, mouth breeding opportunist called Woody!
How could anyone have believed that simpering fool could have been capable of the genius and fortitude you have displayed in your months with the company? He had the verbal communication skills of a severely challenged toddler and clearly did not have the intellect required to operate a polaroid let alone a, not quite state of the art, video camera. To suggest that this example of devolution could be passed of as being responsible for your output was an insult and made your stomach churn at the very thought.
And what was the point of the whole exercise? Couldn't Medos have just watched your work and commented on the edited promotional piece, rather than drawing attention away from your sacrifice and dedication, towards this undeserving fuckwit? He suggested that I was scared of the Natural Born Killer! Like some stupid kid who wakes up at night with nightmares about the troll lurking under his bed. To imply that you bought into the delusions of the mentally disabled was to violate your integrity. The whole affair made you feel like your reputation had been graped by Tyvola's crooked and hairy shaft.
On top of it all, just like the other self-involved individuals the public are willing to shell money out for, Medos just won't understand or care about his misdeeds. He clearly treats the backstage workers with contempt and disdain, his ego already implicating him in the abduction of a young ring crew member by a homeless vagrant. Yet, next time he does something memorable or worthy of inclusion in a highlight package, which granted could be weeks, even months from now, he'll wonder why the camera's switch to a view of the crowd.
You'd been wrapped up in these thoughts of vengeance and retribution ever since you left the break room, and you hadn't really been paying attention to where you were going or what you were doing. So you found it to be a great surprise when you found yourself in one of the UGWC Storage Room's on the lower levels. In fact this was the specific room that was frequented by the freakishly tall gimp with a strange superiority complex, you knew this because he, and his assorted crew of misfits and social outcasts, were stood in front of you...you not Woody!
The leader of this group of maladjusted fantasist's cocks his ridiculous head to one side, glancing towards the camera you are carrying, and your tripod, wordlessly imploring you to set them up.
And so you do.
And the Camera rolls.
”Ah, Master Edwards has done as instructed, we have their antiquated communication device in front of us. When will the human race realise the potential hidden within Pychotropic Waves?”
The Circle Of Influence merely nod in acceptance of their Lord's statement. He then looks towards the camera.
”Yet you don't quite understand us, do you? You find our presence confusing, which comes as no surprise, it is as expected and predicted. Yet you have managed to serve me well, in past months, your skills have helped advance the grandeur of my Circle of Influence.”
Prince Rudo steps closer to the camera.
”And this is why I requested your presence, there is much you should know about us, in the effort of understanding., accepting your inevitable role in the grand scheme of things. It has been predicted, and is expected.
Feel fortunate, feel blessed that you have been spared in this manner, be grateful that you have been given the access so many crave. Your journey with me is only just beginning , and much awaits you. However your first task is to put on record 'The Epiphany of The Spotted One'.”[/b]
Prince Rudo steps to the side and reveals The Natural Born Killer standing before the camera, The Circle of Influence holding candles around him, illuminating him, and he begins to speak.
We give ourselves to Prince Rudo, his cause and his will are our raison d'être. The Killers body is his weapon, it's actions at his command, The Screams will dance to his tune, and follow his every direction. We owe all we are and all we will be to the Lord of the Realm, his hand is strong and his wisdom is infinite. It is not our place to doubt him, nor to question his stated targets, his vision is unparalleled his methods beyond any doubt
We do not deserve to be in his presence, he blesses us just with his gracious rule. We recognize his majesty, we pay tribute to his elegant leadership. He is not of our kind, he is beyond our comprehension, by allowing us to serve him he bestows upon us great honour. For our Prince we shall create our own hell and walk into it for his glory. He is more than us, he is all of us, he is our master.
This is our oath to Prince Rudo, finest in all of existence.[/b]
The Circle now lower the candles and place them on the floor, the light now coming from below the Killer creating a different atmosphere all together.
And on this day...we pledge to our Lord, to do him proud when we dance with the multitude of Prey he has blessed us with. The Screams revel in this gift from our master...the chance to dance with the new alongside the familiar...a veritable discotheque of inner agony for them to escape to...and all this due to our Prince, we do not feel worthy of this gift he adorns us with.
From the conflict that has raged in Chris Peterson's mind, has risen the seeds of inadequacy, the soul destroying essence of complete failure consumes him. Each day...is a constant reminder of just what he lost... everything he sacrificed... to finally succumb to what he strove for so long against....
Then Kyle Tacker's borderline psychosis....he so wants to be a regular guy, but he just can't help breaking stuff...why he's so angry is something the screams are mildly curious about....but they suspect it is a mildly stressful childhood...bringing on fits of misguided rage...with no real substance or meaning...nourishment is far from guaranteed with this one...
Then on to the new delights of Abigail Knight and Steven Stone, two individuals who clearly have their own Passengers driving them towards obliteration...she runs from her past, and clearly some darkness dwells beneath her surface...it will be a pleasure to discover more about her...and my Prince tells me I may have more time if she joins us with the Demi-Lord at Outlast. Steven Stone....seems to be unaware of the obvious anguish he has inside...he seems cut off from the torment of his life, as if a barrier were separating those feelings...if only he could find his way to My Lord as I have...he might finally work out who he is...
Travis Pierce's...problems have advanced since we last danced, he has become the black sheep...the elephant in the room. He feels the judging eyes of the world staring at him...waiting for his next mistake...so he struggles in vain to throw those eyes back upon the world, away from him. But it does not work...The Killer sees through his tricks...The Screams can sense his personal crisis rising within...and they anticipate the dance that awaits them....
We will carry out the duties The Lord sets before us, we shall follow his code and his will before we seek our own pleasures. Synergy is the start...of a new age for The Natural Born Killer...The Most Dangerous Rumour You've Never Heard...is reborn in The Circle.
Prince Rudo now steps in front of The Killer and once again fills the screen.
”You're presence is no longer needed...we will notify you with further assignments. Be gone.”
With that He turns and walks into the circle who are now huddled in the shadows.
And you stop rolling.
And quite frankly you don't quite know what to make of what you've just seen...it was definitely strange, but not in the sense they were probably aiming for. Were they on drugs, prescription or otherwise? Should these kind of people really be employed by a company that risks health? How could you ever make sense of these impossible conundrums.
Oh yes!
You've known all along.
You should ask Woody, he knows all about this stuff.
How could this have happened? Who the fuck did they think they were? The more you thought about it, the angrier you got. You had never wanted to be in this industry in the first place, an industry fuelled by stupidity and gullibility, the money rolling in from the least desirable members of society, but you had accepted the challenge and acted like a damn professional. You had delivered this company some of the best shots they had seen in their brief life, and this was how they repaid you?
You considered this is the sort of act of pure inconsideration that has on many occasions tipped those shuffling loners who gunned down their workplaces over the edge, luckily for your employers you were not afflicted with any mental illnesses, but you were certainly enraged. You weren't a violent or vengeful person in general, but you couldn't help but smile as certain events unfolded on Synergy, as it seemed like some kind of Karmic retribution, at least for one of the perpetrators of the professional mugging you had been victim of.
But what about the others, those directly and indirectly involved? How could they have allowed this to happen? The fact nobody had the decency to block this, to put a stop to it before this attempt to tarnish your name and reputation before it got out, was as heinous a betrayal as the original act. Did people really value your contribution to this company so little? Did all the progress you'd made mean nothing more than being used as a throwaway punchline to some pathetic joke? Not one person had raised an objection to the whole affair, not a single individual had considered this to be a breach of trust, apparently this kind of behaviour was acceptable. Were people really this heathen?
When you had approached Harvey with your concerns he had just replied something about remembering your place and that the 'talent' brought in the fans and could pretty much do what they wanted. What kind of a practice was that? How did that make any sense whatsoever, it was people like yourself that made a huge difference to this company, did these overgrown thugs really believe they'd look anywhere as near as good without the hard work of people like you? The myths they built around themselves would come crashing down if it wasn't for the likes of you, did they have no respect at all?
Apparently that was just the way it was, but you would be damned if you sat back and took it quietly. You were the one they sent out week after week to catch the psychotic ramblings of a deranged sociopath despite any risk to your own health, you were the one that had to endure this mentally unstable specimens habit for stalking, and you weren't meant to question this constant assignment. You were the one that ventured into the unwelcoming forest with The World Heavyweight Champion, suffering dehydration and heat stroke in the name of this company.
You did all those things, you are the one that suffers on a weekly basis for this company, that has given sweat, blood and tears for the advancement of the product, You! Not some fucking brain dead, mouth breeding opportunist called Woody!
How could anyone have believed that simpering fool could have been capable of the genius and fortitude you have displayed in your months with the company? He had the verbal communication skills of a severely challenged toddler and clearly did not have the intellect required to operate a polaroid let alone a, not quite state of the art, video camera. To suggest that this example of devolution could be passed of as being responsible for your output was an insult and made your stomach churn at the very thought.
And what was the point of the whole exercise? Couldn't Medos have just watched your work and commented on the edited promotional piece, rather than drawing attention away from your sacrifice and dedication, towards this undeserving fuckwit? He suggested that I was scared of the Natural Born Killer! Like some stupid kid who wakes up at night with nightmares about the troll lurking under his bed. To imply that you bought into the delusions of the mentally disabled was to violate your integrity. The whole affair made you feel like your reputation had been graped by Tyvola's crooked and hairy shaft.
On top of it all, just like the other self-involved individuals the public are willing to shell money out for, Medos just won't understand or care about his misdeeds. He clearly treats the backstage workers with contempt and disdain, his ego already implicating him in the abduction of a young ring crew member by a homeless vagrant. Yet, next time he does something memorable or worthy of inclusion in a highlight package, which granted could be weeks, even months from now, he'll wonder why the camera's switch to a view of the crowd.
You'd been wrapped up in these thoughts of vengeance and retribution ever since you left the break room, and you hadn't really been paying attention to where you were going or what you were doing. So you found it to be a great surprise when you found yourself in one of the UGWC Storage Room's on the lower levels. In fact this was the specific room that was frequented by the freakishly tall gimp with a strange superiority complex, you knew this because he, and his assorted crew of misfits and social outcasts, were stood in front of you...you not Woody!
The leader of this group of maladjusted fantasist's cocks his ridiculous head to one side, glancing towards the camera you are carrying, and your tripod, wordlessly imploring you to set them up.
And so you do.
And the Camera rolls.
”Ah, Master Edwards has done as instructed, we have their antiquated communication device in front of us. When will the human race realise the potential hidden within Pychotropic Waves?”
The Circle Of Influence merely nod in acceptance of their Lord's statement. He then looks towards the camera.
”Yet you don't quite understand us, do you? You find our presence confusing, which comes as no surprise, it is as expected and predicted. Yet you have managed to serve me well, in past months, your skills have helped advance the grandeur of my Circle of Influence.”
Prince Rudo steps closer to the camera.
”And this is why I requested your presence, there is much you should know about us, in the effort of understanding., accepting your inevitable role in the grand scheme of things. It has been predicted, and is expected.
Feel fortunate, feel blessed that you have been spared in this manner, be grateful that you have been given the access so many crave. Your journey with me is only just beginning , and much awaits you. However your first task is to put on record 'The Epiphany of The Spotted One'.”[/b]
Prince Rudo steps to the side and reveals The Natural Born Killer standing before the camera, The Circle of Influence holding candles around him, illuminating him, and he begins to speak.
We give ourselves to Prince Rudo, his cause and his will are our raison d'être. The Killers body is his weapon, it's actions at his command, The Screams will dance to his tune, and follow his every direction. We owe all we are and all we will be to the Lord of the Realm, his hand is strong and his wisdom is infinite. It is not our place to doubt him, nor to question his stated targets, his vision is unparalleled his methods beyond any doubt
We do not deserve to be in his presence, he blesses us just with his gracious rule. We recognize his majesty, we pay tribute to his elegant leadership. He is not of our kind, he is beyond our comprehension, by allowing us to serve him he bestows upon us great honour. For our Prince we shall create our own hell and walk into it for his glory. He is more than us, he is all of us, he is our master.
This is our oath to Prince Rudo, finest in all of existence.[/b]
The Circle now lower the candles and place them on the floor, the light now coming from below the Killer creating a different atmosphere all together.
And on this day...we pledge to our Lord, to do him proud when we dance with the multitude of Prey he has blessed us with. The Screams revel in this gift from our master...the chance to dance with the new alongside the familiar...a veritable discotheque of inner agony for them to escape to...and all this due to our Prince, we do not feel worthy of this gift he adorns us with.
From the conflict that has raged in Chris Peterson's mind, has risen the seeds of inadequacy, the soul destroying essence of complete failure consumes him. Each day...is a constant reminder of just what he lost... everything he sacrificed... to finally succumb to what he strove for so long against....
Then Kyle Tacker's borderline psychosis....he so wants to be a regular guy, but he just can't help breaking stuff...why he's so angry is something the screams are mildly curious about....but they suspect it is a mildly stressful childhood...bringing on fits of misguided rage...with no real substance or meaning...nourishment is far from guaranteed with this one...
Then on to the new delights of Abigail Knight and Steven Stone, two individuals who clearly have their own Passengers driving them towards obliteration...she runs from her past, and clearly some darkness dwells beneath her surface...it will be a pleasure to discover more about her...and my Prince tells me I may have more time if she joins us with the Demi-Lord at Outlast. Steven Stone....seems to be unaware of the obvious anguish he has inside...he seems cut off from the torment of his life, as if a barrier were separating those feelings...if only he could find his way to My Lord as I have...he might finally work out who he is...
Travis Pierce's...problems have advanced since we last danced, he has become the black sheep...the elephant in the room. He feels the judging eyes of the world staring at him...waiting for his next mistake...so he struggles in vain to throw those eyes back upon the world, away from him. But it does not work...The Killer sees through his tricks...The Screams can sense his personal crisis rising within...and they anticipate the dance that awaits them....
We will carry out the duties The Lord sets before us, we shall follow his code and his will before we seek our own pleasures. Synergy is the start...of a new age for The Natural Born Killer...The Most Dangerous Rumour You've Never Heard...is reborn in The Circle.
Prince Rudo now steps in front of The Killer and once again fills the screen.
”You're presence is no longer needed...we will notify you with further assignments. Be gone.”
With that He turns and walks into the circle who are now huddled in the shadows.
And you stop rolling.
And quite frankly you don't quite know what to make of what you've just seen...it was definitely strange, but not in the sense they were probably aiming for. Were they on drugs, prescription or otherwise? Should these kind of people really be employed by a company that risks health? How could you ever make sense of these impossible conundrums.
Oh yes!
You've known all along.
You should ask Woody, he knows all about this stuff.
