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X-treme Wrestling Federation »   » Archives » March Madness V 2023 RP Board
Twilight Tempo
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Dionysus Offline
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Some of everyone

(cheered; very rarely plays dirty but isn't lame either; many likable qualities)


#1
03-25-2023, 07:57 PM


The orange orb descends downward...

Spinning gently...

Unwavering from its target...

A hand passes underneath...foolishly trying to stop its entry...

But alas, the ping pong ball lands in the last solo cop, ending that round of beer pong.

William cried out in feigned despair as he lost the game to me. I did warn him that I was the best beer pong player I knew of...or at least that I could remember. "Guess you're buying the first round," I jokingly mocked.

"Yeah yeah," William replied sheepishly. He hung his head down as Evan, his date, patted him on the shoulders. "Come on, lets go."

Evan had suggested going to The Saloon for our night out, and admittedly it had been a few years since I had been inside that particular bar downtown. Not that it was a bad place; the atmosphere was lively and the bar itself was historic, perfect for my tastes. I just liked my local pubs more. It also seemed strange to invite me as a third wheel as well, but "William insisted. He says he trusts your opinion and I want to make a good impression on his friends."

Friend...it was a nice thing to hear.

So here I was, wandering with the happy couple up to the bar from the backroom where the bar games were. The place was packed on the dance floor, but the bar area itself was pretty open. William and Evan went up to the bar to place the drink order as I found a table for us to sit at. A few moments later the pair returned, each with a pint and one extra for me. "Hope Nordeast is to your liking," William said, setting his extra glass in front of me.

I picked it up kindly, giving a light toast to him. "Appreciated. One of my favorites."

"So William tells me that the wine business isn't the only thing you're into?" Evan asked as he took his seat.

I gave him a quick once-over; hair neatly combed, his stubble visible but not messy, but it was the eyes that drew me in. I could tell he had a firm lock on my face, but his expression was welcoming and friendly, not analytical or judgmental. Maybe I could see what William saw in this fellow. "Indeed so. Just investing my winnings into another venture should the wrestling business not pan out," I replied matter-of-factly. I didn't really keep my career a secret, but I also didn't openly talk about it with strangers unless I was prompted.

Evan seemed to accept the answer well enough. "William didn't tell me much, so I figured I had to pry."

"Somehow you manage to find a way to pry into whatever you'd like, don't you?" William joked.

"That sounded inviting," I quickly jumped in, making William blush heavily. Evan laughed along with me. "Relax, William; we're out to have a good time tonight!" I raised my glass. "To a night we won't soon forget!" I toasted.

"Or at least until after bar close!" William chimed in as we clinked glasses.

"Alright, lets see who can finish their pint first," I challenged, and soon after took a deep drink...


You know, I wonder how many people know just how long fifteen minutes really is.

No really, think about it for a moment.

At a solid pace, one could walk a mile in fifteen minutes, assuming the movement is uninterrupted.

But when do you look and see just how much time has passed? Do you wait the full fifteen minutes? That would be impressive...if you knew when to check. Most people would likely check around the five minute mark, give or take a minute or two. When the clock isn't on your mind, time moves at a very different speed. Sometimes it moves too quickly, and other times very slow. If you asked someone what feels longer between driving to a destination or driving from a destination, they would tell you the first option. It is like asking which weighs heavier between a kilogram of steel or a kilogram of feathers; instinctively we think of steel weighing more than feathers, so we want to say that a kilogram of steel would weigh more...except they are still both a kilogram. And the distance between two destinations, for the most part, is also the same.

Now you're probably wondering, "Dionysus, why the hell would you bring any of this up?" Because quite simply, I know what it is like to be in the ring for fifteen minutes. This stipulation suits me just fine. In fact, I couldn't have asked for you to choose a better one. Really, it becomes a win-win; should I overcome, then I bested a highly decorated champion in Dolly Waters in short order, continuing to make my stock rise higher. But should you outlast the fifteen minutes...well, no harm no foul, right? After all, given your actions in the past few weeks, it would not surprise me that you would choose a stipulation that would give you plenty of outs and be able to vamp for time. After all, I'm the one that needs to secure the pin or submission, not you.

But don't you think fifteen minutes is a bit...short?

The size differential really isn't a secret or anything, and a longer match favors a smaller opponent who can afford the time to exhaust an otherwise larger one. But see, fifteen minutes feels short because...well, a ten minute match is pretty normal for me. Hell, I have been in longer matches than that. Fifteen minutes is simply a longer dance with extra steps...and I am more than capable of adjusting to a new tempo.




Gods above, how long had it been since I last had a drink...

...Or drank like this, anyway...

Somehow the pair managed to convince me to go out on the dance floor with them. We kept to the edges where there was more space. While it was appreciated, I couldn't really decide between the flashing lights or the thundering bass which was the greater cause of my nausea. I did the best I could under those conditions; I could keep a beat, after all. That said, I'm not much of a dancer on my best day, and this definitely was not my finest hour. I'd have to back away every other song just so I could stop my head from spinning. William and Evan only had eyes for each other, though; dancing the night away and enjoying each others' company.

Watching the two of them dance was very sweet...or it would have been if I could only focus more.

"I'M GOING TO GET SOME AIR," I tried shouting over the music after tapping William on the shoulder. He turned to me and gave me a nod, his eyes sparkling and his smile intoxicating. He really was having the time of his life; he didn't need me there cramping his style.

Thankfully the patio wasn't far from the dance floor. I went to the bar to ask for a glass of water. Then, taking it and tipping the bartender generously...I hope...I opened the door to the streetside patio. It was cooler outside than usual, so not many people were taking advantage of the extra space. That said, I was feeling quite warm, so being out in the open air felt good against my skin. I took a seat next to one of the tables and took a healthy drink of water. I set the glass aside and tried focusing on different objects to ease my dizziness. The nearby traffic light. A couple walking toward one of the theaters in the area. Two older gentlemen having an evening stroll. I turned to look at the patio door as three people walked outside, lighting up cigarettes and carrying on a casual conversation.

I blinked, trying to shake the weariness from my eyes. If I just sat here and focused on recovering, I could at least try to make it to my car. I pulled out my phone to send William a text:
Hey, not feeling great; resting for a bit then heading home. You two have fun. -Dio

Satisfied, I sent the text and put my phone away. I looked up to see a woman sitting across from me at the table. "Light?"
"Oh no," I replied, waving my hands. "Just too hot inside, I can hold my-"

She laughed. "No, sorry; do you have a light?"
It took me a second to register what she was saying, before I exclaimed, "Oh, sure, here," and fished out my lighter.
Still giggling, she lit up her cigarette, taking a drag before handing me my lighter back. "I'm Elli. And you are?"

I took back the lighter, sliding it into my pocket. "Its...Dio," I replied quietly, giving an awkward smile. I hated telling strangers my name.
She blinked for a second before replying, "What, like Jojo?"
...On the other hand...



See, fifteen minutes feels too short because the truth is, it is too short for someone like you.

It screams of a lack of marquee confidence. What, you want to secure a victory on a timeout? Just like that? Fifteen minutes of Dolly Waters is all you're clamoring for? Why not thirty minutes? If you are in that much control over your destiny then you could still finish the match in fifteen, leaving whatever remains of your fans disappointed that you shorted them by fifteen minutes. To me, it speaks of a lack of confidence in your own value. I get it; being eliminated in the second round of the March Madness tournament is a blow. Turning that loss around into a title win is an accomplishment...but to follow that up with a lackluster defense? After boldly claiming that I need to impress you in that amount of time?

Lets face it; you are placing yourself into a position of importance in this match. It is not you that I am looking to impress. A win or a loss is not going to change your view of me; a presumably flash-in-the-pan carny act that leans heavily into my given name for a gimmick. No, I am looking to impress the fans with an incredible showcase. I am looking to impress those higher up the totem pole, or at least to make them notice. I am looking to impress the decision makers and see the value in their decision to hire me on. Perhaps even those who are scouting for more talent for their own respective brands. I'm not above being selfless in my performances if it means the people who want to-no, need to see me perform get the show they are expecting.

I can also say that I am looking to impress myself, but I can easily impress myself anyhow, so what difference would that make aside from sounding overly vapid? It would make me become more like you. Oh I understand your story: "Woes and lamentations for myself, Dolly Waters; the woman who gave everything and was rewarded with nothing! So now I strike out on my own, sparing none and keeping the spoils for myself!" The temptation of flipping the switch from selfless to selfish will only lead you to celebrate with no one around you. It screams of a lack of understanding why you felt this change was necessary. And I can tell you exactly why you are desperate enough to make this work.

Being selfless never suited you in the first place. Why else would you place the emphasis on your selfishness helping you earn your more recent title opportunities? 

You lacked the confidence in yourself to be able to place others in either equal standing to, or even above, yourself. So when the world was crumbling around you, you latched on, in a last-ditch effort of interest, to be able to maintain relevancy in a desperate act of survival. Whereas myself, I am fresh, relevant, and still as selfless as I ever was. The difference between you and I is I understand that each victory I accomplish, each accolade I record, was completed by my hand. I simply choose to not acknowledge myself as a driving factor in my motivations. Why? Because I'm going to be present anyway. But what good is it being in this industry when you choose to only fight for yourself? The Lord of the Vine will carry the flame in one hand and a decanter of wine in the other, and all are welcome to partake in The Revelry.

Since we're keen on gimmicks and appearances, I should also mention that "Lord of the Vine" is one of many monikers I carry. There is also "The Master of Revels." That one may show itself in due time. Additionally, there is "The Crimson Gladiator." All cheesy sounding nicknames, I will grant you that, but consider the context for the last one for a moment. Sports like ours, including boxing, MMA, and the like, all fall into the similar vein of the gladiator battles of yesteryear...though the health benefits are better and there are definitely fewer lion attacks...I would hope, anyway. It is the excitement of combat, the thrill of watching life-or-death scenarios play out in front of your very eyes, that made the coliseum a spectacle in its time, in spite of its very checkered past. These days, professional wrestling isn't really used to punish criminals or turn Christians into lion feed, but the same desire of watching a fight still exists in all of us. Whether it is in the ring, in the octagon, or some random passerby uploading a barfight to Worldstar.

It is that spirit I carry with me; the spirit of sporting combat. When I walk out to that ring for our match, I will buy into the spectacle of it all; high-fiving fans, raising my arms to get a reaction from them, letting the music I have chosen pound into every fiber of my being. And I will even build and maintain that energy upon your arrival...until the bell rings. Then, all eyes will turn to watch.

You.

And me.

In fifteen minutes of pain.

All I could focus on was her...at first.

Elli and I sat at that table for about an hour, just talking about incidental things. Her dark hair hung down to her shoulders, with one side having been buzzed in an undercut. Her eyes were a shimmering emerald green...maybe a bit too green...colored contacts, perhaps, but still nice-looking. She was dressed comfortably for a night out; Chuck Taylors, faded ripped jeans, tucked-in t-shirt and a zip-up hoodie. She had been at the bar with some friends, but they had to leave and she felt like having a smoke before she also left. That's when she saw my drunk and heat-exhausted ass sitting at the table. "So how about you? Here with anyone?"

"Just a friend of mine, and his date," I replied. "I think they both wanted me here to approve of their newfound relationship."

"And where are they now?"

"If I had to guess, either still dancing or cuddled up in a booth. Maybe consummating their union, though its only been...what, an hour?"

"Aww, poor Dio all alone," she teased, laughing cheerfully.

I shook my head. "Nothing quite like that. I'm happy for the two of them; I just don't really know why I am here now."

Elli leaned back in her chair, looking up at the night sky. It was clear, and despite the ambient city light, you could still make out a few stars. She sighed heavily, then said, "Maybe we're here because we want to hide from something. Y'know, just avoid whatever it is we don't want to deal with. My friends invited me out to take my mind off things..."

I recalled my last conversation with Dr. Elbrook. What is it that you are trying so hard to avoid? The words echoed in my mind as I contemplated the knowledge she was dropping. Then the moment faded, and I replied, "Well I was out here because I was too hot on the dance floor...but now I'm here enjoying nice conversation."

Without adjusting her posture, she looked back at me with a smile on her face. "I had fun talking to you too. Now I should really get going," She said as she stood up from her chair. She stretched and turned to face me, asking, "Are you parked nearby?"

"Over in the Mayo Clinic lot," I replied, also standing up. Thankfully, the world had settled down. I was okay enough to drive, at the very least.

"Oh, I'm parked over there too. Care to walk there together?" She didn't even wait for an answer as she tugged on my arm to follow her. I relented, but was happy for the companionship. Even though the lot was only a few blocks away, we talked and joked more on our way over, and really enjoying those moments together.

It was no wonder that she then gave me her phone number.

Maybe this night wasn't a complete bust after all...
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