Threaded Mode | Linear Mode

Raion Kido · (02-18-2023)

“Main Event, one of XWF’s greatest names, and again I am victorious!”

It had been Raion Kido’s biggest victory in a very long time, and it was only the beginning of the March Madness tournament.

“But there’s only one way down which this is going to go.”

Again Mastermind stood in front of him, but there was another challenge beyond, and he would be there to meet it.

“This year, the XWF crown is mine - whoa!”

Loose threads of white come off the loom on which they were placed, and at which the Lion sat. The old Mission Espada in San Antonio is the place of a traditional, still functional, wooden loom, where weaving demonstrations are held periodically.

“Not to worry - just place them again, and make sure you tie them this time!”

The teacher, an amiable-looking elderly woman, gives the Lion a kindly smile.

“Thank you lady, I’ll get to doing that now!”

So the Lion goes to work, carefully stretching the woolen threads in the loom once more, ensuring they are secured tightly enough not to move before he starts to weave.

“Please indulge an old woman, sonny… Why is a young man like you interested in weaving?”

The old woman’s curiosity makes the Lion turn to her with a wink.

“I have a craft of my own, madam, and I don’t mean that just in the ring. I like smithing, and I want to learn to make things that complement the pieces I forge. Like this cape I want to do!”

“Ahh, I see. That thing you wear on T.V. is beautiful, and I hope you’ll eventually learn to weave as well as you forge!”

As the old woman finishes speaking, Raion has made the proper adjustments to the threads in the loom, and so sits back at it, pressing the old artifact’s wooden pedals to lift up the panel with the warp - the vertical threads.

*THUMP!*

The old wood creaks as it moves, an echo that sounds among the stone walls of the mission, but the vertical panel is lifted, and the Lion passes the shuttle, a hollow piece of wood to hold the weft - horizontal - thread of the fabric,from one hand to another through the vertical panel, a line of weft now clearly crossing the warp.

*THUMP!*

One more time does the panel with the warp go up, and one more time does Raion pass the shuttle from one hand to another, spinning yet another weft line in the forming fabric.

“There’s something deeper into it, madam. I like the idea of being able to craft things - to possess the knowledge and art to shape the world our way. The same thing translates to the ring - a wrestler must possess all tools and art available at their disposal to ultimately obtain victory.

Something my opponent, for all his veterancy and his supposed genius, still does not know.”

*THUMP!*

As the Lion progresses in his work, the white thread in the loom begins to take the form of a thick, gleaming white cape, suitable for the Texas winter.

“Well, I would not know very much about that, but I can definitely see the point!”

“One of his problems, madam, is that he is content to sit in what he has called a “victory room”. His collection of old trophies.”

“Hey, young man, I keep old things too! We old people like hanging on to memories.”

Though the woman is clearly jesting, the cheeks of the young wrestler turn into an embarrassed red.

“N-no! I don’t mean it that way! For example - you like coming here to demonstrate the art of weaving, right?”

“Why of course!”

“Therein lies the difference! You’re not limiting yourself to languish in memories. Rather, you’re passing on your knowledge, and you’re creating new ones. Have you ever had someone that learned from you show you their work?”

The woman beams happily at the question.

“Oh, yes! Plenty of people send me pictures or come and show me the shawls they made for their loved ones, sometimes they bring me their pets, wearing clothes they made. That makes me emotional - it’s hard for my eyes not to get misty!”

“Exactly! And you’ll always have new memories to create for as long as you do this. Same thing it is for me, ma’am. I have obtained the greatest prize there was to have in wrestling, but I’m not content with that memory. There’s also things I was this close to obtain, but couldn’t, and I don’t want those chances to pass me by again.

That’s why I am doing this, and why I shall succeed.”

*THUMP!*

“And I think here we are!”

The Lion looks at the finished fabric in the loom - a magnificent white cloak, no loose threads, the interwoven yarn barely noticeable at the surface. The young Saint of Athena removes it carefully from the loom, and presents it to the old weaver.

“This one’s for you, madam, but you’ll see me wearing a similar one next Saturday!”

“Ohh, thank you so very much. You’ve made an old woman very happy!”

The elderly lady wraps the Lion in a hug, and when she releases him, the Lion wraps the cloak around her frail shoulders.

“That’s what I was saying all along, madam. I like changing the world around me for the better, and I want to have the tools to craft my own destiny.”

A sly smile appears on his lips as he reaches for the Golden Cloth and opens it…

“But on next Weekend Warfare, I shall weave the thread of Mastermind’s doom.”

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I hope you were paying attention, Mastermind.”

The chilly wind of winter blows outside the remains of Mission Espada, where the Lion now stands in front of the camera, a gleaming white cape blowing at his back over his shining Golden Cloth.

“I hope you were paying attention, because that same thing you want to do at Anarchy, I just did last show. The return of the almighty Sarah Lacklan, trounced at the hands of Raion Kido.

I hope you were paying attention because then you might have learned something for whenever you and her come to face.

Although, by the looks of it, it doesn’t seem like you are capable of learning anything at all.”

But as the cold winter blows, so does the Lion’s cosmos burn.

“I say this, Mastermind, because for your new plan of attack, you seemed quite content to look at your old memorabilia. Where were you at Snow Job, Mr. Game Show? Where was the next step in your master plan?

You could have used that opportunity to advance towards the Anarchy Title, but Mastermind’s new plan of attack, apparently, is to rail at Vinnie Lane about how much he hates multi-person matches!

How do you think I won the Leap of Faith briefcase, or the Universal Title? You have been in this company for years, and here you sound like an entitled whiner! I said not a single word when I was thrust into a four-way match right after losing to Mark Flynn, and I made certain to win!

Wait, scratch that. On second thought, I should give you a break. Your sniveling is actually quite funny, since I figured you would have had some more fight left in you last time. Instead, you once again had to watch as HGH submitted Raab. I suppose that sums up Mastermind as a whole, though - a bystander, reduced into merely spectating instead of making a change in the world - except when the bar is low enough.

Which brings me to the next point.”

No smile follows next - only the Lion’s peeled back teeth, canines on display.

“Tell me, that message for Jacoby Spencer, was it just unseemly gloating, or was it me you truly had in mind? If it was the former, you just rubbed salt in the wound of someone that can’t even defend himself, which makes you look pathetic - like a teenager bragging about beating an infant.

I have done this every time since Relentless and I’ve always looked for the better challenge, but I suppose that’s all someone of your stature can manage. After all, it’s what you have done in all the time you’ve been with this company - trying to pass for brilliance what is simply mediocrity.

If it’s the latter, well, how thoughtful of you, Mastermind. All this time you’ve been thinking of me, so who has really mastered who’s mind? I’m glad I’m able to awaken these feelings in people; maybe when I send you out of this tournament you’ll actually start working instead of looking at your replica belts in misguided complacency.”

A clenched fist comes next, and with it a stare as cold, and unforgiving, as the wind that blows in the mission.

“Speaking of which - what is my reaction supposed to be, Mastermind? Am I supposed to fear you because you want my name so desperately in one of those bland, poorly-made T-shirts of yours? I’ll send you one of mine after our match is over. Not only is it better quality in every meaning of the word - from material, to design, to actual value - it’s also something people actually want to have.

But I digress. The point is that you try - and that’s a key word here - to play these mind games because you simply lack the most basic shred of talent to go against someone with a real bite. Even your Mastermind moniker is but a try at projecting an all-encompassing image of cleverness that you simply fail to possess. Everything about you is to try, and to fail, except when it comes to actually putting in the effort to be seen as even basically competent.

There, you don’t even try.”

The damning silence following this sentence is broken only by the whisper of the wind.

“But unlike you, I don’t need any tricks, or to attack an opponent’s family. The only thing I need are my skills, and it should be proof enough that even Sarah Lacklan herself, the one that dared call me good but not great, was unable to stop me - even with the help of Dolly Waters!

But you should already know this, Mastermind. After all, you’ve experienced it yourself, and even though sheer fortune saved you from being the one to actually lose, this time there’s no one else to get in the way, and nothing to save you from the Lightning Bolt that shall send a jolt of electricity through your empty, hollow shell.

I’m coming from finally having a real challenge, and I’ll be damned if I let myself become as complacent as you have made yourself to be. If you ever get close to Sarah Lacklan, I’ll give you one more reason why you should want to beat her - because she was the one to wake me up from the lethargy that would have overcome me if I had to keep facing the likes of you.”

The Lion now thrusts a fist forward, the force of his movement creating a gust of wind.

“So bring your meager guns blazing, Mastermind, and watch them fire blanks. Bring your misguided belief and see it be instantly debunked. Great that you found your self-confidence, but that’s yet another proof of what I said: you merely found the bare minimum to step inside the ring.

But against the Lion, against the power of the cosmos, belief alone isn’t enough. And since you failed to learn that lesson when we first met, it’s time I demonstrated it once more, just for you.

So get ready, Mastermind, because at Weekend Warfare, the Lion’s hand shall once more turn the loom…”

Raion takes his hand to his neck, and makes a swift, horizontal slash motion.

“... that shall ultimately weave the threads of your doom.”

Fade to black.

2000 words (wordcounter.net)

Threaded Mode \| Linear Mode Hand Turns Loom
Author	Message