Post by High Tide on Mar 12, 2018 21:36:54 GMT -5
My thoughts clouded like an overcast day. Swirling, swirling, the rum has set in.
I pace these streets, not knowing, not caring, what is going on. Who am I? I am High Tide, the pirate. I think. That's what they call me. High Tide. No one calls me a pirate. Except maybe the announcers.
The rain is falling. Almost sideways. Like warped reality weather. Is it falling sideways? Or is it a trick of the light. Streetlights shining so bright my eyes hurt. It's getting cold and I imagine the rain will freeze soon. Why am I out here? Why do I do anything I do? Why am I High Tide?
Right. I'm a pirate, that's why. A pirate with a mutinous crew and one first mate who has my back. Does he always have my back? He's getting too close to that girl. Are they a thing? No, he's so much older, and I'm not even sure he thinks like that. Yet they are becoming good friends. Too good of friends. I will have to show him who his true friend is. Me, the man who brought him to PCW. The man who carried him to becoming tag champions before he came into his own. Me. High Tide.
The ground is slippery. I lose my footing. Normally I would catch myself. Yet everything is a blur. Swirling. Swirling. I fall to the sidewalk. It's wet, my coat is soaked. Just my luck to land in a puddle. I lay there for awhile as everything is blurry and I just can't seem to get up. I hear loud footsteps. I have the morbid thought that I am a celebrity of high enough ranking that someone will take advantage of my lack of mobility and lock me up in their house. Then I laugh, audibly. I am not even close to that level of celebrity. Johnny Depp as Captain Jack Sparrow? Sure. High Tide? Not so much. I wait as the footsteps come closer.
"Sir? Sir are you alright? I saw you trip and fall and you haven't gotten up. It's raining and it's getting cold outside. You'll catch a chill. Do you have somewhere to go?" It was the lovely voice of a young lady, but I couldn't even make out her face. Swirling, swirling and my head was pounding. On top of that, she thought I was homeless. Great. What a first impression. My first encounter with someone and they thought I was Non Compos Mentis instead of High Tide. King of Hobos indeed. Oh well, I could be mistaken for worse. The man won a hell of a lot more matches than I did. Life was good. Rum was good.
I am okay, is what I tried to say, but it came out as "I amffashha oookla," before I felt the rum leave my body. Everything was still spinning, swirling, shuffling, and I hoped I hadn't ralphed on her. What a first impression. I really shouldn't drink two nights before a match. How the hell was I going to get home. I tried to get up, shakily, but it was slippery and I could barely see. I fell down again as my boots couldn't find purchase on the slippery concrete. I hadn't been this drunk in awhile. Stupid pirate I was. Hopefully I could just sleep it off, not end up in jail, and make it to my match in two days.
"Let's get you inside. Looks like you've had a rough night," I heard the angelic voice again. I think it was the same voice. I still couldn't see. I thought I saw Yukio and Braddock standing above me like gods, like titans, laughing at my misfortune. I felt myself being lifted. Swirling, swirling, fading. Black.
I pace these streets, not knowing, not caring, what is going on. Who am I? I am High Tide, the pirate. I think. That's what they call me. High Tide. No one calls me a pirate. Except maybe the announcers.
The rain is falling. Almost sideways. Like warped reality weather. Is it falling sideways? Or is it a trick of the light. Streetlights shining so bright my eyes hurt. It's getting cold and I imagine the rain will freeze soon. Why am I out here? Why do I do anything I do? Why am I High Tide?
Right. I'm a pirate, that's why. A pirate with a mutinous crew and one first mate who has my back. Does he always have my back? He's getting too close to that girl. Are they a thing? No, he's so much older, and I'm not even sure he thinks like that. Yet they are becoming good friends. Too good of friends. I will have to show him who his true friend is. Me, the man who brought him to PCW. The man who carried him to becoming tag champions before he came into his own. Me. High Tide.
The ground is slippery. I lose my footing. Normally I would catch myself. Yet everything is a blur. Swirling. Swirling. I fall to the sidewalk. It's wet, my coat is soaked. Just my luck to land in a puddle. I lay there for awhile as everything is blurry and I just can't seem to get up. I hear loud footsteps. I have the morbid thought that I am a celebrity of high enough ranking that someone will take advantage of my lack of mobility and lock me up in their house. Then I laugh, audibly. I am not even close to that level of celebrity. Johnny Depp as Captain Jack Sparrow? Sure. High Tide? Not so much. I wait as the footsteps come closer.
"Sir? Sir are you alright? I saw you trip and fall and you haven't gotten up. It's raining and it's getting cold outside. You'll catch a chill. Do you have somewhere to go?" It was the lovely voice of a young lady, but I couldn't even make out her face. Swirling, swirling and my head was pounding. On top of that, she thought I was homeless. Great. What a first impression. My first encounter with someone and they thought I was Non Compos Mentis instead of High Tide. King of Hobos indeed. Oh well, I could be mistaken for worse. The man won a hell of a lot more matches than I did. Life was good. Rum was good.
I am okay, is what I tried to say, but it came out as "I amffashha oookla," before I felt the rum leave my body. Everything was still spinning, swirling, shuffling, and I hoped I hadn't ralphed on her. What a first impression. I really shouldn't drink two nights before a match. How the hell was I going to get home. I tried to get up, shakily, but it was slippery and I could barely see. I fell down again as my boots couldn't find purchase on the slippery concrete. I hadn't been this drunk in awhile. Stupid pirate I was. Hopefully I could just sleep it off, not end up in jail, and make it to my match in two days.
"Let's get you inside. Looks like you've had a rough night," I heard the angelic voice again. I think it was the same voice. I still couldn't see. I thought I saw Yukio and Braddock standing above me like gods, like titans, laughing at my misfortune. I felt myself being lifted. Swirling, swirling, fading. Black.
