Post by The Greater Evil on Jul 29, 2009 20:24:09 GMT -5
Laughter.
Even before the darkness dissipates and the promo officially begins that is the sound that can be heard. It’s not what one would consider normal laughter either, rather it has a dark and ominous tone to it…and somewhat oddly a tone to it that resembles amusement…if not outright appreciation. This sound without an accompanying image continues for a few moments more before the picture finally begins. When we are finally graced with an image it is that of a large building, one that is clearly incomplete. It has floors and walls, but as yet there are no doors and no decoration of any sort. Even the floors themselves look incomplete, apparently no more than the layer that one would place a proper floor above in order to make it look like part of an actual room. Outside of the windows the scene looks rather stark, almost threatening…and extremely dusty. All about this centered building are ones that appear to be in various forms of disrepair, with missing walls and windows, blown out doors and chunks of roof missing. Even the sky itself as a brown, despairing look to it…and that despair looks all together normal for the environment.
Yet the laughter continues and in such an environment as stark as this one it strikes as a sound that is in complete contrast with its surroundings. It is suddenly interrupted by the sound of a confused male voice.
V: I don’t understand why you’re laughing Boss.
The laughing suddenly ceases and it replaced with a disgusted exhale. Somewhere near by two more slightly quieter chuckles of amusement are heard. The original voice responds to it and this time it is more indignant and offended.
V: Very funny. All you ever do is laugh at me. It’s a simple question.
Again a quiet chuckle is heard and quickly followed up by a deep and smooth voice. It’s the sort of voice one would assume the Devil himself to have if he were a used car salesman. It’s quiet, almost oily and extremely confident…it also carries a very patronizing tone to it.
V2: Of course it’s a simple question…you’re a simple man. No one would expect anything that resembles advanced thought out of you as it would be very much out of character. Of course, that statement also implies that you have “character” to begin with, and such an assertion as that would be quite frankly absurd.
V1: Screw you ! I…
Both men are suddenly interrupted by a much deeper and more authoritative sounding voice…and it sounds less than amused with the entire exchange.
V3: Both of you be quiet.
Both men instantaneously shut up…at least for a few seconds.
V1: But….he…
The third voice interrupts them again, this time it has a touch of anger to it.
V3: I told you to be quiet. The next one to open his mouth to do anything but respond to something I say to him stands a very good chance of having an eye to eye meeting with our friend…at least for the few seconds it takes to pass him in flight.
The first man very noticeably and loudly swallows, clearly unnerved by the veiled threat on his life. The second one chuckles a little to himself but doesn’t say another word. The third suddenly speaks, this time he’s very clearly giving an order.
V3: David…go tell our friends to bring our visitor back in here and prep him for our talk.
David: Right away Boss.
The sounds of footprints on the bare floor are heard and grow fainter but never completely disappear. The third voice speaks again.
V3: Paul…I am in no mood for your bullshit at the moment. Understand that I could much more easily replace you than I could David and learn some self restraint. If you don’t there are a number of ways that you could end up being removed from employment with me. Am I understood ?
The first voice answers again, his voice nervous and somewhat halting…but very clear on what he’s been told.
Paul: Yes sir. But why am I the one who has to shut up all of the time ? He’s always provoking me.
The third voice exhales in irritation again, a sound that almost comes out resembling a growl.
V3: Stop whining. Very simply because I can replace you much more easily than I could replace a man of David’s qualities. Understand that you are no more than a human Pit Bull. You are of average intelligence at best, possess no exceptional cognitive qualities and require constant supervision in order to make sure that you keep your more unstable personality aspects under control. On the other hand you are very good at doing things that make most men extremely uncomfortable to be involved in. Fortunately for you that one useful quality is of barely enough use to me to keep me from addressing your negative ones in a more permanent manner. That is why you are always the one who has to be quiet, even when he provokes you. It is a constant test to be sure that you are still capable of taking my orders.
Paul: But Sir…am I not loyal to you ?
This question is met with a laugh that comes out sounding like something more akin to a harsh bark than a normal sound of humor. His tone is just as incredulous.
V3: Don’t insult my intelligence Paul.
Paul stares back at him in confusion and raises his shoulders with his hands out in a placating gesture.
Paul: What Boss ?
The camera still stays focused on Grevane but his boss does answer from off screen.
V3: I’m well aware that your loyalty to me has severe limitations. Do not insult my intelligence by pretending otherwise.
Grevane opens his mouth to speak but is interrupted by two men with what appear to be headscarves wrapped around their heads. They drag a bound and gagged man over to between him and his boss, who is still off screen; before unceremoniously dumping him in a heap onto the floor. Damarest walks up behind them with a satisfied smirk on his face. Their employers’ voice comes from off screen.
V3: Now that you’ve had time to…consider your options…I will have your gag removed long enough to tell me if you’ve made the right decision about your future or not.
One of the masked men reaches over and pulls the gag out of the man’s mouth and he promptly responds by saying something in a very derogatory tone in what can only be assumed to be Arabic before spitting at the man who is still off screen. This gesture is met by a sudden fist to the face that knocks out one of his teeth in a spray of blood.
V3: That was extremely unwise. I’ll have it translated later. For now gentlemen re-gag our guest and take him down to the vehicle. It is time to take him to where he’s going to retire. I want this done quickly; I have a flight to catch…before you're done douse him in pig blood so that he can't enter "heaven"...
The view turns in time to see him turn his back and begin walking away. He makes it a few steps before pausing and looking over his shoulder.
V3: I expect one of his thieving hands to be removed and sent to his bosses as a reminder that it is very unwise to steal from me…as well as a warning that it won’t go unpunished. Once that is done make his future more concrete…I wouldn’t want the foundation of it to sag.
With that Dirge turns and slips his sunglasses over his eyes before walking out of the room and disappearing. Damarest gestures to the two masked men and they each grab the man under an armpit, roughly hauling him to his feet before they begin to drag him off. The last sound heard before the scene goes momentarily dark is the sound of the man blubbering for his life as the toes of his boots make a scraping sound on the floor base and Damarest chuckles to himself with evil mirth.
The next day:[/i]
Dirge and Raenius are seated in a loud and dingy looking bar. Raenius is in his usual attire, sans mask and Dirge is in his usual attire with his jacket off and hung over the back of his seat. Both men have shot glasses and between them sits a bottle of Jack Daniels.
Raenius: You realise that Jack is a pile of pish, don't ye?
Dirge laughs at the comment before nodding his head and placing his glass down. He looks at Raenius with a crooked grin before responding.
Dirge: I do, but if you ask for good stuff in a dump like this the bartender looks at you like he's watching a camel ass grape a walrus. At the moment I don't have the patience for that.
Raenius tilts his head curiously before replying to the statement.
Raenius: I don’t think anyone has the patience for grape lad. Tis why they call it “grape”, it is what one would call "non consensual".
Dirge lifts and tilts his glass, nodding his head in acknowledgement of the validity of Raenius' statement.
Dirge: Touché my Irish friend. That’s a valid observation.
Dirge scowls for a moment, showing a very rare flash of genuine emotion before lifting the bottle and pouring more into his friend's glass. He places the bottle back onto the table and looks at Raenius, his expression somewhat surly.
Dirge: Besides, I'm paying for it...so I don't care if it tastes like bottled shit to you. Drink it anyway.
The statement comes out sounding as if he's very annoyed by an observation that he would normally shrug off without a second thought.
Raenius: My daddy always said "if it's free - take it"
Raenius lifts the glass and drinks from it, although the motion seems to do little to placate his suddenly surly friend. Dirge notes this with an odd expression that is something caught between a smirk and a frown, as if his normally well controlled personality is fighting with something that is normally buried deep inside.
Raenius: Someone shit in your Cheerios or somethin?
The frown on his face deepens into a full out scowl and he lifts the small glass and stares at it for a moment before tossing it back and slamming it back down onto the table so hard that it sounds like a shotgun going off in the noisy room. The force of the impact also causes the glass to shatter, slicing his palm open. He recoils from this with a hiss of pain and a loud growl of anger before sweeping the rest of the shards from the table angrily. The Bouncer notices this and goes to say something before Dirge looks up and him with a menacing glare and cuts him off.
Dirge: Utter one word to me and I’ll remove this glass from my hand by using your face as the rag…
The man, who is fairly large himself, blanches at the remark before looking over Dirge’s shoulder at Erik. Erik looks at Dirge before turning and walking to the Bouncer. He stands silently for a moment before pulling money from his pocket and handing it to the man while speaking to him. The Bouncer looks from Erik, to the money, to Dirge and back to Erik again without a word. Dirge turns from him and starts angrily pulling the glass shards from his hand, before throwing them to the floor in irritation. Raenius responds by just pulling the bottle from the table and swigging from it without comment. For some odd reason this seems to just irritate Dirge even further. He looks over at the nearest waitress and snarls angrily at her.
Dirge: Bring me your best Scotch, no ice…since my friend decided that the bottled shit is good enough to guzzle.
The waitress stares at him blankly and freezes. Dirge starts to stand up from his seat with both hands wrapped around the edge of the table as he glares at the terrified waitress in what looks to be an ever increasing state of rage. His next statement is snarled at her through clenched teeth.
Dirge: Believe it or not you worthless little slut, it wasn’t a request.
The girl blinks stupidly at him for a moment before the engine in her brain starts to move again and she darts off to attend to his order. He notes this, but doesn’t immediately sit back down.
Raenius: You tell 'er, Dirge, son. Nothing like bullying a woman to make you feel like a tough, brute man-
Raenius never gets the statement completely out of his mouth as Dirge suddenly lashes out, driving his fist into Raenius’ face, knocking him out of his seat ass over end and onto the floor in a heap. He glares over the table at the Irishman and snarls a retort, his teeth still clenched.
Dirge: Get fucked you patronizing Irish sod.
Raenius: Fuck!
Dirge leans over the table, still glaring down at Raenius…his eyes smoldering with rage.
Dirge: It serves you right you stupid son of a bitch. We lost those Tag Championships a few weeks ago to two worthless cocksuckers who don’t deserve to lick the sweat from our ball sacks and you don’t seem to give a shit. I do. I hate losing. I hate losing to the inferior even more. Pull your head out of that fucking bottle and get it together. If you could give that shit up and just accept who you are we could wipe the floor with anyone in that horseshit promotion, especially that vanilla bland pedophile Kiseragi and his new life partner Brandon “I have no personality so I steal one from a fat tub of shit and a midget” Brown. Not to mention that dried up old, third person speaking hag Mary Joanna and her meddling bullshit. Her mentally deficient goons win a fucking match against the Penguin and take over this company and all of a sudden she’s got her box in a bind and decided to wave her snatch around in our faces by booking us all against each other. I have news for you, her and everyone else…it’ll be the goddamned day I kill myself that I allow that sallow bag of misbegotten sperm to try and fuck me over. She should use her mouth for what it’s good for…sucking dick…and nothing else.
The rant seems to make Dirge feel a little better as he pulls the final shard of glass from his hand and walks around the table, offering his hand to Raenius. Raenius rubs his jaw and takes the offered hand, getting back up and sitting back on the bar stool. Dirge looks at him evenly for a moment before sitting back down and glaring at nothing in particular.
Raenius: Accept who I am? Shit. I accept that shit every day, same as you. Except I'm two arseholes instead of one. I don't care that we lost the titles? Shit. I do care. I suppose I just don't mind. Titles mean nothing to me. Winning and fucking losing mean nothing to me. I just want to be myself, do what's right and fuck people up along the way. Brown? Kiseragi? Some slag? Shit. None of them mean a fucking thing to me. Why would they?
The statement only causes the scowl on Dirge’s face to deepen a little more. He looks around the crowded bar for the waitress and growls to himself when there is no apparent sign of her. He looks back at Raenius, still obviously very annoyed.
Dirge: The titles aren’t the point Raenius, and don’t give me that “two persons instead of one” shit either. There’s one of you, you just haven’t decided which one of you that you like better so you have you act one way and that “Dhar” of yours act another. Having a crazy bitch like Nyx around you doesn’t help that…she’s more fucked up than Mickey is…she just hides it.
He pauses for a moment and gestures to Erik to return. Erik nods and does so, leaving the now pacified Bouncer and returning to stand slightly behind Dirge. Once he does this Dirge closes his eyes for a moment and lets out a long and tired sounding breath. He resumes speaking without opening his eyes, although his tone is still one of great anger.
Dirge: Fuck Kiseragi and Brown. We were throwing those to pussies around the ring like rag dolls for most of that match and it took two of them to put me away. Simple luck. What pisses me off still is that we dropped those Championships again. Neither time it happened should we have lost….THAT is what pisses me off about it. You want to “do what’s right” ? So do I…what’s right for me, what’s right for you and what’s right for The Covenant…and losing to those two jerkoffs isn’t right for any of those concerned. Losing to them makes us look weak and THAT my friend is inexcusable. I’d gladly kill them both in their sleep if given the opportunity and wouldn’t feel an ounce of guilt over it either. The point is, my Irish brother, that we are capable of much greater things than that as a team, as well as being capable of more individually. The problem is that we’re both distracted. I’m distracted by my out of the ring concerns and you are by your incessant internal fight for control over yourself.
Raenius smiles in a calming manner and answers his friend.
Raenius: My fight's been fightin' for years, and I've still won a wankbag-load of titles in the mean time, so don't you worry a single hair on your monstrous fucking head about me. You just worry about these "concerns" of yours. Cause, shit. With or without them, you're still a monster. And a cunt.
Dirge can’t help but chuckle at the response, although the mirth is short lived. His tone is still very serious.
Dirge: Yes, you have…and yes…I am. I’m a douchebag and I know it. My complete lack of concern over anyone but myself and those in my alliances is the reason I’ve won so much. It’s also the reason that I’m an absurdly wealthy and powerful man…do you know why that is, other than being a douchebag…or as you so eloquently put it…“a cunt”.
Dirge looks at Raenius awaiting a response.
Raenius: ...Cause you're a big cunt?
Again Dirge chuckles at the response in spite of himself.
Dirge: No you sarcastic dick…it’s because I never let my desire to gratify my ego with the misery of others overshadow my objective. I don’t let it distract me. I know that you think that your endless battle with yourself is a non issue because you win in spite of it…but I pose this query to you my alcoholic friend…how much more could you have accomplished had you been all of one mind ? That “second personality” and your heavy drinking are there because you hate who you are but haven’t really accepted it yet.
He pauses for a moment before continuing.
Dirge: Before you say it, yes…I know you drink because you enjoy it. Ever notice though that the Raenius behind the mask and the “Dhar”, which are just reflections of the same side of you, both despise that dependence on alcohol ? Have you ever really thought about that ? I’m not telling you never to drink at all…even I enjoy alcohol. All I’m saying, is that drinking yourself into a stupor until you can’t remember what you did and talking to this “Dhar” are just reflections of a serious bit of bullshit that’s going on in there…and like it or not those are distractions.
Raenius: Like it or not, I'm still a dangerous motherfucker. Dangerous motherfuckers. As are you. And we can talk about distractions till we're blue in the balls. But it still boils down to making fucking excuses. And I hate fucking excuses.
Raenius downs his drink and gets up. Dirge looks at him calmly and smirks.
Raenius: I'm not going to make any fucking excuses. No fucking distraction is enough to make me less tough. And no fucking alter ego is enough to make me stop gettin' bumknockered as often as I fucking well want to. What you have to ask yourself is; is this shit enough to go to war over. And if it is? Well. Then we march in. So what say you, big man? Is your indignation over these happenings enough for us to destroy life?
Dirge looks at Raenius and his trademark evil smile spreads across his face.
Dirge: Destroy ? No…we’re not going to simply “destroy” my friend…
He stands up and clasps a hand down on Raenius’ shoulder, his expression positively menacing.
Dirge: “Destroying” would be far too merciful…
Raenius: Heh. Of fucking course it would.
Rainius turns and leaves without another word as Dirge watches him go, his face covered by a dangerous ear to ear smile.
Even before the darkness dissipates and the promo officially begins that is the sound that can be heard. It’s not what one would consider normal laughter either, rather it has a dark and ominous tone to it…and somewhat oddly a tone to it that resembles amusement…if not outright appreciation. This sound without an accompanying image continues for a few moments more before the picture finally begins. When we are finally graced with an image it is that of a large building, one that is clearly incomplete. It has floors and walls, but as yet there are no doors and no decoration of any sort. Even the floors themselves look incomplete, apparently no more than the layer that one would place a proper floor above in order to make it look like part of an actual room. Outside of the windows the scene looks rather stark, almost threatening…and extremely dusty. All about this centered building are ones that appear to be in various forms of disrepair, with missing walls and windows, blown out doors and chunks of roof missing. Even the sky itself as a brown, despairing look to it…and that despair looks all together normal for the environment.
Yet the laughter continues and in such an environment as stark as this one it strikes as a sound that is in complete contrast with its surroundings. It is suddenly interrupted by the sound of a confused male voice.
V: I don’t understand why you’re laughing Boss.
The laughing suddenly ceases and it replaced with a disgusted exhale. Somewhere near by two more slightly quieter chuckles of amusement are heard. The original voice responds to it and this time it is more indignant and offended.
V: Very funny. All you ever do is laugh at me. It’s a simple question.
Again a quiet chuckle is heard and quickly followed up by a deep and smooth voice. It’s the sort of voice one would assume the Devil himself to have if he were a used car salesman. It’s quiet, almost oily and extremely confident…it also carries a very patronizing tone to it.
V2: Of course it’s a simple question…you’re a simple man. No one would expect anything that resembles advanced thought out of you as it would be very much out of character. Of course, that statement also implies that you have “character” to begin with, and such an assertion as that would be quite frankly absurd.
V1: Screw you ! I…
Both men are suddenly interrupted by a much deeper and more authoritative sounding voice…and it sounds less than amused with the entire exchange.
V3: Both of you be quiet.
Both men instantaneously shut up…at least for a few seconds.
V1: But….he…
The third voice interrupts them again, this time it has a touch of anger to it.
V3: I told you to be quiet. The next one to open his mouth to do anything but respond to something I say to him stands a very good chance of having an eye to eye meeting with our friend…at least for the few seconds it takes to pass him in flight.
The first man very noticeably and loudly swallows, clearly unnerved by the veiled threat on his life. The second one chuckles a little to himself but doesn’t say another word. The third suddenly speaks, this time he’s very clearly giving an order.
V3: David…go tell our friends to bring our visitor back in here and prep him for our talk.
David: Right away Boss.
The sounds of footprints on the bare floor are heard and grow fainter but never completely disappear. The third voice speaks again.
V3: Paul…I am in no mood for your bullshit at the moment. Understand that I could much more easily replace you than I could David and learn some self restraint. If you don’t there are a number of ways that you could end up being removed from employment with me. Am I understood ?
The first voice answers again, his voice nervous and somewhat halting…but very clear on what he’s been told.
Paul: Yes sir. But why am I the one who has to shut up all of the time ? He’s always provoking me.
The third voice exhales in irritation again, a sound that almost comes out resembling a growl.
V3: Stop whining. Very simply because I can replace you much more easily than I could replace a man of David’s qualities. Understand that you are no more than a human Pit Bull. You are of average intelligence at best, possess no exceptional cognitive qualities and require constant supervision in order to make sure that you keep your more unstable personality aspects under control. On the other hand you are very good at doing things that make most men extremely uncomfortable to be involved in. Fortunately for you that one useful quality is of barely enough use to me to keep me from addressing your negative ones in a more permanent manner. That is why you are always the one who has to be quiet, even when he provokes you. It is a constant test to be sure that you are still capable of taking my orders.
Paul: But Sir…am I not loyal to you ?
This question is met with a laugh that comes out sounding like something more akin to a harsh bark than a normal sound of humor. His tone is just as incredulous.
V3: Don’t insult my intelligence Paul.
Paul stares back at him in confusion and raises his shoulders with his hands out in a placating gesture.
Paul: What Boss ?
The camera still stays focused on Grevane but his boss does answer from off screen.
V3: I’m well aware that your loyalty to me has severe limitations. Do not insult my intelligence by pretending otherwise.
Grevane opens his mouth to speak but is interrupted by two men with what appear to be headscarves wrapped around their heads. They drag a bound and gagged man over to between him and his boss, who is still off screen; before unceremoniously dumping him in a heap onto the floor. Damarest walks up behind them with a satisfied smirk on his face. Their employers’ voice comes from off screen.
V3: Now that you’ve had time to…consider your options…I will have your gag removed long enough to tell me if you’ve made the right decision about your future or not.
One of the masked men reaches over and pulls the gag out of the man’s mouth and he promptly responds by saying something in a very derogatory tone in what can only be assumed to be Arabic before spitting at the man who is still off screen. This gesture is met by a sudden fist to the face that knocks out one of his teeth in a spray of blood.
V3: That was extremely unwise. I’ll have it translated later. For now gentlemen re-gag our guest and take him down to the vehicle. It is time to take him to where he’s going to retire. I want this done quickly; I have a flight to catch…before you're done douse him in pig blood so that he can't enter "heaven"...
The view turns in time to see him turn his back and begin walking away. He makes it a few steps before pausing and looking over his shoulder.
V3: I expect one of his thieving hands to be removed and sent to his bosses as a reminder that it is very unwise to steal from me…as well as a warning that it won’t go unpunished. Once that is done make his future more concrete…I wouldn’t want the foundation of it to sag.
With that Dirge turns and slips his sunglasses over his eyes before walking out of the room and disappearing. Damarest gestures to the two masked men and they each grab the man under an armpit, roughly hauling him to his feet before they begin to drag him off. The last sound heard before the scene goes momentarily dark is the sound of the man blubbering for his life as the toes of his boots make a scraping sound on the floor base and Damarest chuckles to himself with evil mirth.
The next day:[/i]
Dirge and Raenius are seated in a loud and dingy looking bar. Raenius is in his usual attire, sans mask and Dirge is in his usual attire with his jacket off and hung over the back of his seat. Both men have shot glasses and between them sits a bottle of Jack Daniels.
Raenius: You realise that Jack is a pile of pish, don't ye?
Dirge laughs at the comment before nodding his head and placing his glass down. He looks at Raenius with a crooked grin before responding.
Dirge: I do, but if you ask for good stuff in a dump like this the bartender looks at you like he's watching a camel ass grape a walrus. At the moment I don't have the patience for that.
Raenius tilts his head curiously before replying to the statement.
Raenius: I don’t think anyone has the patience for grape lad. Tis why they call it “grape”, it is what one would call "non consensual".
Dirge lifts and tilts his glass, nodding his head in acknowledgement of the validity of Raenius' statement.
Dirge: Touché my Irish friend. That’s a valid observation.
Dirge scowls for a moment, showing a very rare flash of genuine emotion before lifting the bottle and pouring more into his friend's glass. He places the bottle back onto the table and looks at Raenius, his expression somewhat surly.
Dirge: Besides, I'm paying for it...so I don't care if it tastes like bottled shit to you. Drink it anyway.
The statement comes out sounding as if he's very annoyed by an observation that he would normally shrug off without a second thought.
Raenius: My daddy always said "if it's free - take it"
Raenius lifts the glass and drinks from it, although the motion seems to do little to placate his suddenly surly friend. Dirge notes this with an odd expression that is something caught between a smirk and a frown, as if his normally well controlled personality is fighting with something that is normally buried deep inside.
Raenius: Someone shit in your Cheerios or somethin?
The frown on his face deepens into a full out scowl and he lifts the small glass and stares at it for a moment before tossing it back and slamming it back down onto the table so hard that it sounds like a shotgun going off in the noisy room. The force of the impact also causes the glass to shatter, slicing his palm open. He recoils from this with a hiss of pain and a loud growl of anger before sweeping the rest of the shards from the table angrily. The Bouncer notices this and goes to say something before Dirge looks up and him with a menacing glare and cuts him off.
Dirge: Utter one word to me and I’ll remove this glass from my hand by using your face as the rag…
The man, who is fairly large himself, blanches at the remark before looking over Dirge’s shoulder at Erik. Erik looks at Dirge before turning and walking to the Bouncer. He stands silently for a moment before pulling money from his pocket and handing it to the man while speaking to him. The Bouncer looks from Erik, to the money, to Dirge and back to Erik again without a word. Dirge turns from him and starts angrily pulling the glass shards from his hand, before throwing them to the floor in irritation. Raenius responds by just pulling the bottle from the table and swigging from it without comment. For some odd reason this seems to just irritate Dirge even further. He looks over at the nearest waitress and snarls angrily at her.
Dirge: Bring me your best Scotch, no ice…since my friend decided that the bottled shit is good enough to guzzle.
The waitress stares at him blankly and freezes. Dirge starts to stand up from his seat with both hands wrapped around the edge of the table as he glares at the terrified waitress in what looks to be an ever increasing state of rage. His next statement is snarled at her through clenched teeth.
Dirge: Believe it or not you worthless little slut, it wasn’t a request.
The girl blinks stupidly at him for a moment before the engine in her brain starts to move again and she darts off to attend to his order. He notes this, but doesn’t immediately sit back down.
Raenius: You tell 'er, Dirge, son. Nothing like bullying a woman to make you feel like a tough, brute man-
Raenius never gets the statement completely out of his mouth as Dirge suddenly lashes out, driving his fist into Raenius’ face, knocking him out of his seat ass over end and onto the floor in a heap. He glares over the table at the Irishman and snarls a retort, his teeth still clenched.
Dirge: Get fucked you patronizing Irish sod.
Raenius: Fuck!
Dirge leans over the table, still glaring down at Raenius…his eyes smoldering with rage.
Dirge: It serves you right you stupid son of a bitch. We lost those Tag Championships a few weeks ago to two worthless cocksuckers who don’t deserve to lick the sweat from our ball sacks and you don’t seem to give a shit. I do. I hate losing. I hate losing to the inferior even more. Pull your head out of that fucking bottle and get it together. If you could give that shit up and just accept who you are we could wipe the floor with anyone in that horseshit promotion, especially that vanilla bland pedophile Kiseragi and his new life partner Brandon “I have no personality so I steal one from a fat tub of shit and a midget” Brown. Not to mention that dried up old, third person speaking hag Mary Joanna and her meddling bullshit. Her mentally deficient goons win a fucking match against the Penguin and take over this company and all of a sudden she’s got her box in a bind and decided to wave her snatch around in our faces by booking us all against each other. I have news for you, her and everyone else…it’ll be the goddamned day I kill myself that I allow that sallow bag of misbegotten sperm to try and fuck me over. She should use her mouth for what it’s good for…sucking dick…and nothing else.
The rant seems to make Dirge feel a little better as he pulls the final shard of glass from his hand and walks around the table, offering his hand to Raenius. Raenius rubs his jaw and takes the offered hand, getting back up and sitting back on the bar stool. Dirge looks at him evenly for a moment before sitting back down and glaring at nothing in particular.
Raenius: Accept who I am? Shit. I accept that shit every day, same as you. Except I'm two arseholes instead of one. I don't care that we lost the titles? Shit. I do care. I suppose I just don't mind. Titles mean nothing to me. Winning and fucking losing mean nothing to me. I just want to be myself, do what's right and fuck people up along the way. Brown? Kiseragi? Some slag? Shit. None of them mean a fucking thing to me. Why would they?
The statement only causes the scowl on Dirge’s face to deepen a little more. He looks around the crowded bar for the waitress and growls to himself when there is no apparent sign of her. He looks back at Raenius, still obviously very annoyed.
Dirge: The titles aren’t the point Raenius, and don’t give me that “two persons instead of one” shit either. There’s one of you, you just haven’t decided which one of you that you like better so you have you act one way and that “Dhar” of yours act another. Having a crazy bitch like Nyx around you doesn’t help that…she’s more fucked up than Mickey is…she just hides it.
He pauses for a moment and gestures to Erik to return. Erik nods and does so, leaving the now pacified Bouncer and returning to stand slightly behind Dirge. Once he does this Dirge closes his eyes for a moment and lets out a long and tired sounding breath. He resumes speaking without opening his eyes, although his tone is still one of great anger.
Dirge: Fuck Kiseragi and Brown. We were throwing those to pussies around the ring like rag dolls for most of that match and it took two of them to put me away. Simple luck. What pisses me off still is that we dropped those Championships again. Neither time it happened should we have lost….THAT is what pisses me off about it. You want to “do what’s right” ? So do I…what’s right for me, what’s right for you and what’s right for The Covenant…and losing to those two jerkoffs isn’t right for any of those concerned. Losing to them makes us look weak and THAT my friend is inexcusable. I’d gladly kill them both in their sleep if given the opportunity and wouldn’t feel an ounce of guilt over it either. The point is, my Irish brother, that we are capable of much greater things than that as a team, as well as being capable of more individually. The problem is that we’re both distracted. I’m distracted by my out of the ring concerns and you are by your incessant internal fight for control over yourself.
Raenius smiles in a calming manner and answers his friend.
Raenius: My fight's been fightin' for years, and I've still won a wankbag-load of titles in the mean time, so don't you worry a single hair on your monstrous fucking head about me. You just worry about these "concerns" of yours. Cause, shit. With or without them, you're still a monster. And a cunt.
Dirge can’t help but chuckle at the response, although the mirth is short lived. His tone is still very serious.
Dirge: Yes, you have…and yes…I am. I’m a douchebag and I know it. My complete lack of concern over anyone but myself and those in my alliances is the reason I’ve won so much. It’s also the reason that I’m an absurdly wealthy and powerful man…do you know why that is, other than being a douchebag…or as you so eloquently put it…“a cunt”.
Dirge looks at Raenius awaiting a response.
Raenius: ...Cause you're a big cunt?
Again Dirge chuckles at the response in spite of himself.
Dirge: No you sarcastic dick…it’s because I never let my desire to gratify my ego with the misery of others overshadow my objective. I don’t let it distract me. I know that you think that your endless battle with yourself is a non issue because you win in spite of it…but I pose this query to you my alcoholic friend…how much more could you have accomplished had you been all of one mind ? That “second personality” and your heavy drinking are there because you hate who you are but haven’t really accepted it yet.
He pauses for a moment before continuing.
Dirge: Before you say it, yes…I know you drink because you enjoy it. Ever notice though that the Raenius behind the mask and the “Dhar”, which are just reflections of the same side of you, both despise that dependence on alcohol ? Have you ever really thought about that ? I’m not telling you never to drink at all…even I enjoy alcohol. All I’m saying, is that drinking yourself into a stupor until you can’t remember what you did and talking to this “Dhar” are just reflections of a serious bit of bullshit that’s going on in there…and like it or not those are distractions.
Raenius: Like it or not, I'm still a dangerous motherfucker. Dangerous motherfuckers. As are you. And we can talk about distractions till we're blue in the balls. But it still boils down to making fucking excuses. And I hate fucking excuses.
Raenius downs his drink and gets up. Dirge looks at him calmly and smirks.
Raenius: I'm not going to make any fucking excuses. No fucking distraction is enough to make me less tough. And no fucking alter ego is enough to make me stop gettin' bumknockered as often as I fucking well want to. What you have to ask yourself is; is this shit enough to go to war over. And if it is? Well. Then we march in. So what say you, big man? Is your indignation over these happenings enough for us to destroy life?
Dirge looks at Raenius and his trademark evil smile spreads across his face.
Dirge: Destroy ? No…we’re not going to simply “destroy” my friend…
He stands up and clasps a hand down on Raenius’ shoulder, his expression positively menacing.
Dirge: “Destroying” would be far too merciful…
Raenius: Heh. Of fucking course it would.
Rainius turns and leaves without another word as Dirge watches him go, his face covered by a dangerous ear to ear smile.
