Post by Dominator / Mortimer on Aug 14, 2017 17:47:55 GMT -5
7.33pm – Monday 14th August 2017
Maternity Ward, Salisbury District Hospital, England[/u]
A beam of celestial light shines through the blinds onto the bed in which she lays; a woman who has been promoted to a mother just hours ago. Beads of sweat still decorate her brow and trickle along entangled strands of hair that has been dyed an auburn shade of red. Cradled in her arms, new existence slumbers serenely wrapped in a pink blanket so soft it could have been woven from the petals of the finest roses. At their side stands the proud father and loving husband, the newly founded trio gently hold each others hands as a testament to their joy.
“She’s beautiful,” the mother whispers with glee and exhaustion.
“She really is,” the father agrees at the same volume.
“Dominic!” the woman’s smile widens even further. The husband instantly looks towards the partition in the curtain arcing around the bed to see the towering figure at the foot of the bed. Dominic stares at the newborn nestled against her mother’s chest. His face does not change to show even a fraction of empathy, yet he looks over to the father and respectfully nods his head.
“You made it,” the father exclaims, still oozing with pride. He steps towards Dominic, who does not show as much hesitation in accepting the handshake followed by an immediate embrace. “I’m sorry to have dragged you away from your busy schedule, but...”
“I wouldn’t have missed this for the world, Shawn,” Dominic interrupts, “you know that.” The Zenith looks over to Shawn’s wife and nods his head in the same manner that he had done to her spouse, “I’m very pleased for you, Amy. For all three of you.” Amy simply mouths the words ‘thank you’ to Dominic, perhaps too exhausted from the ordeal of childbirth to give an audible response.
“Indeed,” comes another voice entering the fray, “I believe that congratulations are in order.” Having slunk into the room behind his monolithic client, Horacio immediately sidesteps past Dominic, squeezing through the gap between him and the bed like a beetle finding a crack in a wall, before leaning directly across Amy to stare at the newborn as if he were in a supermarket looking at fruit in a basket.
“Do you mind?” Shawn pulls Horacio backward by the shoulder. “Mother and child need rest, the last thing she wants is to have some stranger right up in her face.”
“I’m no stranger, my friend,” Mortimer replies, his eyes fixated on the child. “Surely Dominic has told you of me. Horacio Mortimer,” he turns to look Shawn in the eye. “Pleasure to put the face to a name.” He immediately turns back towards the baby. Amy looks aghast by the direct presence of Horacio. Again, Shawn is forced to restrain Mortimer, this time a little more aggressively than he had done previously. Horacio holds his hands up in a sarcastic state of surrender, the levels of cynicism evident by the slyness of his smile.
“Your new friend is weird,” Shawn mutters to Dominic, knowing full well that Horacio is in earshot. Refusing to rise to the bait, Mortimer opts to ignore this and instead continue with his inquisitive intrusiveness.
“So, have you thought of a name yet?” Mortimer asks with a sense of genuine sincerity.
“You really are a nosey one, aren’t you?” Shawn says with distain, trying to console his visibly uncomfortable wife by standing closer to her and blocking Horacio’s view of their daughter, yet he still tries to peer past Shawn’s shoulder.
“Names are worth knowing. They hold power. Knowing one’s name is the key to unlocking so many doors into one’s mind.”
“What!?” Amy exclaims in disbelief at this statement. “She’s not even a day old.”
“Right now,” Mortimer explains. “But who is to say that, years from now, this name might not be worth knowing? After all, everybody does something they regret at some point in time. Even the most menial little detail that might not appear to have any relevance can be misconstrued. That one little mistake can come back to haunt you more than you might ever realise at that moment when it happens.”
“Shut up,” Amy whimpers, worried by Mortimer’s sentiments. “I don’t think you should be saying that about my daughter.”
“Dominic, as much as I appreciate you coming here, I think it is best if you leave.” All the while, Dominic has remained strangely quiet. It is an unusual situation for him to be in. Shawn had been one of his best friends since the days where he wore smaller clothes, going through the joys of childhood, the angst of puberty and the labours of adult life together on the wrestling circuit. Shawn had once been part of an establish tag team with his brother back then, but they had since retired. Amy herself had also seen herself inside of the squared circle on more than one occasion. She had even befriended Dan Fierce at one time. They were perhaps the only two people that he could truly call “family.”
But they are different people now.
“He does have a point,” Dominic says, almost with a whisper.
“You really aren’t buying into this man’s bullshit, are you?” Shawn gasps, sneering towards Mortimer. “You!” he snarls. “You’re no better than an extremist. You’ve radicalised him.”
“Extremist, you say?” Mortimer smiles. “All I have done is offered Dominic here a new way of thinking. It is his decision to accept what I say as either fact or fiction, much like how a Christian can read a Bible and can swayed or not be swayed either way.
“But he’s our friend!” Amy retorts. The argument raging in the baby’s fragile ears causes her to squint herself into life, her toothless mouth gaping open like a chasm to let out a horrific wail of distress. Amy huddles her closer into her chest, attempting to rock her daughter back into a more sedated state. Eager to ease the situation for his wife and child, Shawn ushers Dominic and Mortimer through the curtain into the maternity ward. Other new mothers glare at the trio, who wisely agree silently in unison to move this conversation out of the ward and into the corridor, Mortimer taking the time to cleanse his hands with sanitizer before leaving.
7.54pm
The corridor looks as tired as the mothers after childbirth, the paint on the walls has started to flake away, yet they shimmer along with the concrete floor even in the dim light. Standing to one side to allow a nurse wheel a patient past, they keep their lips sealed until prying ears have long since passed.
“Listen, I don’t appreciate you being so rude to me and my wife right after she has just given birth to my daughter,” Shawn frowns. “I apologise for coming across as ignorant to the whole “time is a constant” shtick that you’re rocking at the moment,” he says to both Dominic and Horacio, to which The Zenith seems far more accepting of than his mentor, “but you must understand that when you start talking about unlocking secrets to my daughter’s mind, it doesn’t set a great precedent.” Dominic remains still, yet Mortimer’s facial expression depicts more disgust than even Dominic himself could have expected.
“How can you lie to yourself like that?” Mortimer hisses.
“Excuse me?” comes the shocked response from Shawn.
“You always have portrayed yourself as the more innocent of the two, compared to your brother,” Mortimer flickers his tongue wickedly. “I know more about you than you realise, Shawn Metallinos. Or should I call you ‘Steel’ or ‘one half of The Brothers of Anarchy’ for that matter? There is no doubt you were talented back in your prime, but nowadays your name holds little merit other than for nostalgic purposes. It must be nice knowing that while your brother battles with alcoholism, you can use him as a scapegoat to escape your own shortcomings, especially given the fact you are twins...”
“How dare you!” the man formerly known as Steel snarls through gritted teeth, clenching his fist ready to swing for Horacio, but he is quickly cut off by Dominic, who stands directly in front of him.
“You didn’t tell me that you and Amy got remarried,” Dominic states solemnly. “After all the comfort I offered you during your divorce, I would have liked to at least be informed.” Shawn screeches to a shuddering halt, his jaw dropping slightly.
“Dominic,” Shawn says, immediately calmed, “it was a snap decision, a spur of the moment sort of thing.”
“Which had nothing to do with the discovery of Amy’s pregnancy?” Mortimer adds. “How strange that you were wed for the second time on April 15th 2017. How long had you been seeing each other again prior to the day where you rekindled your passion for one another? A month?”
“We met back in March...”
“February 28th 2017, a candle-light dinner at ‘The Captain’s Club’ in Christchurch. The table was booked for 7.30pm,” Mortimer corrects with the utmost of precision. “And your last contact with Amy before then was, what, June of last year?”
“What does this have to do with anything?” Shawn frowns.
“June 2nd 2016,” Dominic butts in. “You told her she was a waste of space when she told you she’d started dating again. You seem to discounted the fact that, in spite of helping you through the hard times, that I did exactly the same thing for her. I’ve heard both sides of the story, Shawn. But like a true friend, I didn’t choose a side. I listened to the both of you and offered my support equally to you both.”
“Wait...” Shawn presents a puzzled look on his face. “If you were talking to Amy during our break-up, then why the hell didn’t SHE invite you to the wedding?”
“She did.” Dominator responds.
“Then why didn’t you come to the ceremony?” he asks, completely bewildered at this stage. Dominator falls silent once more, slowly pivoting and turning his back on his friend.
“Because he couldn’t tolerate seeing you keeping such a dirty little secret from your... from Amy's daughter,” Mortimer grins. “We all have them; those moments in our lives that we regret. Some, we accept and learn from. Others, we try to hide in the shadows in hope that they never resurface.”
“Did you not noticethe bump back when you first got back together?” Dominator snarls. “Or are the two of you merely using this poor child as an excuse to share your love because the real father to that girl isn’t around, or even aware of its existence?” Shawn remains completely taken aback by this accusation, yet he does nothing to defend the honour of his wife, or his daughter for that matter. “You never did tell us her name,” he adds.
“We... we haven’t decided yet,” Shawn replies, still in disbelief to this situation.
“If you’re going to raise that child, you’d better make damn sure it has a name as strong as its upbringing,” Dominator says with a much softer, composed voice. “Like Horacio said, names hold a great deal of power.”
“Ensure it lives up to expectation,” Mortimer adds. “There is one man who calls himself “Crazy Boy” because he believes that he is the embodiment of psychosis, therefore such a name warrants forewarning to his behavioural tendencies.” Mortimer flickers a maliciously serious grin akin to that of a leopard the millisecond before it pounces on its unsuspecting prey, “yet he does not seem to realise that he is facing a man known throughout his entire professional career as ‘Dominator.’
“What time was the kid born?” Dominic asks with a serious voice.
“5.09am this morning,” Shawn answers.
“The exact time of dawn’s first break,” Mortimer smiles, examining his watch. Dominator and Shawn appear to share the same brainwave as each other.
“Dawn.”
Dominic and Shawn stare at each other, only for a brief moment. They acknowledge the notion before nodding.
“Such a graceful name, as if she were the manifestation of a brand new day. It will suit her perfectly,” Horacio smiles. “However,” his face falls as he turns to look at Shawn, “can you really live with yourself for this? You either hide the truth from her and allow her to grow up without knowing who her father is, or you tell her outright as she grows up, making you something of second-best, something that she simply has to make-do with for the rest of her life.”
“What do you want from me?” Shawn scowls.
“All I want from you is to listen to what I have to say,” Mortimer smiles. “Now... tell me, if you consider life and death are constants throughout each of our own existences, would you say that the flow of time is also a constant?”
Maternity Ward, Salisbury District Hospital, England[/u]
A beam of celestial light shines through the blinds onto the bed in which she lays; a woman who has been promoted to a mother just hours ago. Beads of sweat still decorate her brow and trickle along entangled strands of hair that has been dyed an auburn shade of red. Cradled in her arms, new existence slumbers serenely wrapped in a pink blanket so soft it could have been woven from the petals of the finest roses. At their side stands the proud father and loving husband, the newly founded trio gently hold each others hands as a testament to their joy.
“She’s beautiful,” the mother whispers with glee and exhaustion.
“She really is,” the father agrees at the same volume.
“Dominic!” the woman’s smile widens even further. The husband instantly looks towards the partition in the curtain arcing around the bed to see the towering figure at the foot of the bed. Dominic stares at the newborn nestled against her mother’s chest. His face does not change to show even a fraction of empathy, yet he looks over to the father and respectfully nods his head.
“You made it,” the father exclaims, still oozing with pride. He steps towards Dominic, who does not show as much hesitation in accepting the handshake followed by an immediate embrace. “I’m sorry to have dragged you away from your busy schedule, but...”
“I wouldn’t have missed this for the world, Shawn,” Dominic interrupts, “you know that.” The Zenith looks over to Shawn’s wife and nods his head in the same manner that he had done to her spouse, “I’m very pleased for you, Amy. For all three of you.” Amy simply mouths the words ‘thank you’ to Dominic, perhaps too exhausted from the ordeal of childbirth to give an audible response.
“Indeed,” comes another voice entering the fray, “I believe that congratulations are in order.” Having slunk into the room behind his monolithic client, Horacio immediately sidesteps past Dominic, squeezing through the gap between him and the bed like a beetle finding a crack in a wall, before leaning directly across Amy to stare at the newborn as if he were in a supermarket looking at fruit in a basket.
“Do you mind?” Shawn pulls Horacio backward by the shoulder. “Mother and child need rest, the last thing she wants is to have some stranger right up in her face.”
“I’m no stranger, my friend,” Mortimer replies, his eyes fixated on the child. “Surely Dominic has told you of me. Horacio Mortimer,” he turns to look Shawn in the eye. “Pleasure to put the face to a name.” He immediately turns back towards the baby. Amy looks aghast by the direct presence of Horacio. Again, Shawn is forced to restrain Mortimer, this time a little more aggressively than he had done previously. Horacio holds his hands up in a sarcastic state of surrender, the levels of cynicism evident by the slyness of his smile.
“Your new friend is weird,” Shawn mutters to Dominic, knowing full well that Horacio is in earshot. Refusing to rise to the bait, Mortimer opts to ignore this and instead continue with his inquisitive intrusiveness.
“So, have you thought of a name yet?” Mortimer asks with a sense of genuine sincerity.
“You really are a nosey one, aren’t you?” Shawn says with distain, trying to console his visibly uncomfortable wife by standing closer to her and blocking Horacio’s view of their daughter, yet he still tries to peer past Shawn’s shoulder.
“Names are worth knowing. They hold power. Knowing one’s name is the key to unlocking so many doors into one’s mind.”
“What!?” Amy exclaims in disbelief at this statement. “She’s not even a day old.”
“Right now,” Mortimer explains. “But who is to say that, years from now, this name might not be worth knowing? After all, everybody does something they regret at some point in time. Even the most menial little detail that might not appear to have any relevance can be misconstrued. That one little mistake can come back to haunt you more than you might ever realise at that moment when it happens.”
“Shut up,” Amy whimpers, worried by Mortimer’s sentiments. “I don’t think you should be saying that about my daughter.”
“Dominic, as much as I appreciate you coming here, I think it is best if you leave.” All the while, Dominic has remained strangely quiet. It is an unusual situation for him to be in. Shawn had been one of his best friends since the days where he wore smaller clothes, going through the joys of childhood, the angst of puberty and the labours of adult life together on the wrestling circuit. Shawn had once been part of an establish tag team with his brother back then, but they had since retired. Amy herself had also seen herself inside of the squared circle on more than one occasion. She had even befriended Dan Fierce at one time. They were perhaps the only two people that he could truly call “family.”
But they are different people now.
“He does have a point,” Dominic says, almost with a whisper.
“You really aren’t buying into this man’s bullshit, are you?” Shawn gasps, sneering towards Mortimer. “You!” he snarls. “You’re no better than an extremist. You’ve radicalised him.”
“Extremist, you say?” Mortimer smiles. “All I have done is offered Dominic here a new way of thinking. It is his decision to accept what I say as either fact or fiction, much like how a Christian can read a Bible and can swayed or not be swayed either way.
“But he’s our friend!” Amy retorts. The argument raging in the baby’s fragile ears causes her to squint herself into life, her toothless mouth gaping open like a chasm to let out a horrific wail of distress. Amy huddles her closer into her chest, attempting to rock her daughter back into a more sedated state. Eager to ease the situation for his wife and child, Shawn ushers Dominic and Mortimer through the curtain into the maternity ward. Other new mothers glare at the trio, who wisely agree silently in unison to move this conversation out of the ward and into the corridor, Mortimer taking the time to cleanse his hands with sanitizer before leaving.
7.54pm
The corridor looks as tired as the mothers after childbirth, the paint on the walls has started to flake away, yet they shimmer along with the concrete floor even in the dim light. Standing to one side to allow a nurse wheel a patient past, they keep their lips sealed until prying ears have long since passed.
“Listen, I don’t appreciate you being so rude to me and my wife right after she has just given birth to my daughter,” Shawn frowns. “I apologise for coming across as ignorant to the whole “time is a constant” shtick that you’re rocking at the moment,” he says to both Dominic and Horacio, to which The Zenith seems far more accepting of than his mentor, “but you must understand that when you start talking about unlocking secrets to my daughter’s mind, it doesn’t set a great precedent.” Dominic remains still, yet Mortimer’s facial expression depicts more disgust than even Dominic himself could have expected.
“How can you lie to yourself like that?” Mortimer hisses.
“Excuse me?” comes the shocked response from Shawn.
“You always have portrayed yourself as the more innocent of the two, compared to your brother,” Mortimer flickers his tongue wickedly. “I know more about you than you realise, Shawn Metallinos. Or should I call you ‘Steel’ or ‘one half of The Brothers of Anarchy’ for that matter? There is no doubt you were talented back in your prime, but nowadays your name holds little merit other than for nostalgic purposes. It must be nice knowing that while your brother battles with alcoholism, you can use him as a scapegoat to escape your own shortcomings, especially given the fact you are twins...”
“How dare you!” the man formerly known as Steel snarls through gritted teeth, clenching his fist ready to swing for Horacio, but he is quickly cut off by Dominic, who stands directly in front of him.
“You didn’t tell me that you and Amy got remarried,” Dominic states solemnly. “After all the comfort I offered you during your divorce, I would have liked to at least be informed.” Shawn screeches to a shuddering halt, his jaw dropping slightly.
“Dominic,” Shawn says, immediately calmed, “it was a snap decision, a spur of the moment sort of thing.”
“Which had nothing to do with the discovery of Amy’s pregnancy?” Mortimer adds. “How strange that you were wed for the second time on April 15th 2017. How long had you been seeing each other again prior to the day where you rekindled your passion for one another? A month?”
“We met back in March...”
“February 28th 2017, a candle-light dinner at ‘The Captain’s Club’ in Christchurch. The table was booked for 7.30pm,” Mortimer corrects with the utmost of precision. “And your last contact with Amy before then was, what, June of last year?”
“What does this have to do with anything?” Shawn frowns.
“June 2nd 2016,” Dominic butts in. “You told her she was a waste of space when she told you she’d started dating again. You seem to discounted the fact that, in spite of helping you through the hard times, that I did exactly the same thing for her. I’ve heard both sides of the story, Shawn. But like a true friend, I didn’t choose a side. I listened to the both of you and offered my support equally to you both.”
“Wait...” Shawn presents a puzzled look on his face. “If you were talking to Amy during our break-up, then why the hell didn’t SHE invite you to the wedding?”
“She did.” Dominator responds.
“Then why didn’t you come to the ceremony?” he asks, completely bewildered at this stage. Dominator falls silent once more, slowly pivoting and turning his back on his friend.
“Because he couldn’t tolerate seeing you keeping such a dirty little secret from your... from Amy's daughter,” Mortimer grins. “We all have them; those moments in our lives that we regret. Some, we accept and learn from. Others, we try to hide in the shadows in hope that they never resurface.”
“Did you not noticethe bump back when you first got back together?” Dominator snarls. “Or are the two of you merely using this poor child as an excuse to share your love because the real father to that girl isn’t around, or even aware of its existence?” Shawn remains completely taken aback by this accusation, yet he does nothing to defend the honour of his wife, or his daughter for that matter. “You never did tell us her name,” he adds.
“We... we haven’t decided yet,” Shawn replies, still in disbelief to this situation.
“If you’re going to raise that child, you’d better make damn sure it has a name as strong as its upbringing,” Dominator says with a much softer, composed voice. “Like Horacio said, names hold a great deal of power.”
“Ensure it lives up to expectation,” Mortimer adds. “There is one man who calls himself “Crazy Boy” because he believes that he is the embodiment of psychosis, therefore such a name warrants forewarning to his behavioural tendencies.” Mortimer flickers a maliciously serious grin akin to that of a leopard the millisecond before it pounces on its unsuspecting prey, “yet he does not seem to realise that he is facing a man known throughout his entire professional career as ‘Dominator.’
“What time was the kid born?” Dominic asks with a serious voice.
“5.09am this morning,” Shawn answers.
“The exact time of dawn’s first break,” Mortimer smiles, examining his watch. Dominator and Shawn appear to share the same brainwave as each other.
“Dawn.”
Dominic and Shawn stare at each other, only for a brief moment. They acknowledge the notion before nodding.
“Such a graceful name, as if she were the manifestation of a brand new day. It will suit her perfectly,” Horacio smiles. “However,” his face falls as he turns to look at Shawn, “can you really live with yourself for this? You either hide the truth from her and allow her to grow up without knowing who her father is, or you tell her outright as she grows up, making you something of second-best, something that she simply has to make-do with for the rest of her life.”
“What do you want from me?” Shawn scowls.
“All I want from you is to listen to what I have to say,” Mortimer smiles. “Now... tell me, if you consider life and death are constants throughout each of our own existences, would you say that the flow of time is also a constant?”