Post by Nathan Saniti on May 17, 2015 21:30:16 GMT -5
The Land of Confusion - Chapter Four (Tha Musical: part 2)
(Author's notes: I gave this RP the "Bohemian Rhapsody" treatment, but with two songs. The first is Billy Joel's "The Stranger," and the second is Ego Likeness' "Weave." For the sake of length, I didn't use some of the more repetitious chorus verses. I hope you all enjoy.
To catch everyone up, Nathan, his sister Naomi, and his friend Rasputin exited Nathan's topsy-turvy world on a pilgrimage into the woods of Greenville, South Carolina leading towards the PCW arena. There they encountered an unusual structure that seemed to be built specifically to give Nathan a vision of his heart's desire, Kelli "Dollface" Starr. Whether it was a precursor of things to come or simply a trick of a more sinister force, only time would tell. Just as he emerged from the building, a shadowy figure Nathan referred to as "The Stranger" appeared, hitching a ride on Nathan's shadow. What will this new specter bring?)
"Who were you talking to when you came out of the Wonderous Hall of Events?" Naomi queried. Her brother seemed to be in a deep state of contemplation, almost as if he were nearly lost in his own mind. (Shaddap. No puns intended here. Nothing to see. Read along.) "Nathan?"
Before he could answer, his shadow took on a life of its own, whistling a haunting, mesmerizing tune, freezing them all in place with its hypnotizing melody. The shadow stood in mid-air, opening itself wide on one side as if revealing the inner workings of a trenchcoat. As the whistling concluded, the Stranger began to croon his story. "Well, we all have a face that we hide away forever..."
Suddenly, many horrifying faces appeared in the linings of the outstretched covering, each made of a different material. "...And we take them out and show ourselves when everyone has gone."
He plucked one of them out, placing it gingerly on his own featureless face. With the lightning fast flick of a wrist, he doled out another to each of the three travelers like a blackjack dealer tosses cards. Just as the mask he placed on his own head, the three wrapped themselves over the ponums of their intended victims. "Some are satin," he chimed, caressing the mask on his own face. "Some are steel," this one clamping itself on Nathan. "Some are silk," he indicated to the one on Rasputin. "Some are leather," he pointed at Naomi. "They're the faces of a Stranger, but we'd love to try them on."
Overcome by the power within the masks, each began to suffer a elusion, or a vision of their own secrets and desires. Naomi began reliving the moments where Tarrant had passed when the trio had been caught in the crossfire between the Black Hand and the Order during the French Revolution. She watched in horror as Nathan's beloved familiar had a hole blown in his chest by some sort of fireball. Thankfully, the smoke of the battle had obscured the sight from Nathan, or they would have had to deal with the Dark Arcana much sooner. As her line of sight cleared in a brief instant, she saw not the black bearded member of the Black Hand Nathan had suspected of the misdeed, but a long silver-haired, leather clad vixen, accompanied by a monster of a man who breathed fire.
Nathan struggled with all of his strength to remove the steel mask tightening its grip on his head. A sense of hopelessness washed over him as it treated him to a dream of his own. Nathan stood across from his beloved, just as he would at Living a Legacy. The look in her eyes was not one of a misguided sense of right and wrong, but one of malicious intent, venom dripping from the corners of her pretty mouth as she silently chided him, taunted him, strings evil intent guiding her motives the whole way like a puppet straight from the recesses of hell.
As the vision continued, Nathan sank to his knees, "Well, we all fall in love, but we disregard the danger." She shouted inaudibly to Nathan about keeping secrets. "Though we share so many secrets, there are some we never tell." Nathan reeled from an invisible impact to his noggin.
"Why were you so surprised that you never saw the Stranger?" added the Stranger with a sneering hiss of his satin mask. "Did you ever let your lover see the Stranger in yourself?"
Naomi and Rasputin came to from their imagined realities, rushing over to assist Nathan back to his feet. She knew her brother would give anything to make sure Kelli came away from the influence of the Black Hand. "Don't be afraid to try again," she cooed, "Everyone goes south every now and then."
"You've done it," jabbed Rasputin in a deep baritone, "Why can't someone else?"
"You should know by now," admonished Naomi to Rasputin. "You've been there yourself."
"Ooh,ooh," mocked Rasputin.
"Once I used to believe I was such a great romancer," Nathan cried weakly, the vision of Kelli's utter betrayal echoing in his mind, "Then I came home to a woman that I could not recognize. When I pressed her for a reason, she refused to even answer..." Nathan jerked from another invisible blow to his head. "It was then I felt the Stranger kick me right between the eyes."
The Stranger gave a whistle, calling each of the masks back into the darkness from which they materialized, his toothy smile and the whites of his eyes the only remaining features visible on his own facade. Naomi and Rasputin both readied to attack the insolent man for his mental intrusion. Thinking better of it, Nathan stopped them before they could let loose. "You may never understand how the Stranger is inspired," he instructed to his companions. "But he isn't always evil, and he is not always wrong."
The Stranger nodded to Nathan, knowing he understood what must now come to pass. "Though you drown in good intentions, you will never quench the fire. You'll give in to your desire when the Stranger comes along."
Once again, the Stranger began whistling hauntingly, slinking into the darkness. As he did, the shadows all around the Trio came alive. Naomi and Rasputin set themselves at Nathan's back, not noticing the fiery glow emanating from his eyes and hands.
An odd cricket-like sound began chittering from the woods, swirling a path around them all as Nathan drew in energy. A sinister thrumming filled the air. Silhouettes of all shape and size began to skitter from all around. A spider-like creature surfaced, dancing along with Nathan's murmurings. "I create the things that haunt me," droned Nathan.
Naomi and Rasputin spun on Nathan in shock, neither person knowing how to react to Nathan's sudden change in demeanor. Nathan turned to face them with a reassuring voice. "The ghosts you see here came with me." His words fell on deaf ears from his obvious personality switch. "I create my consequences. I have weaved my history."
"Something in your bones," cried Naomi, "calls you here."
"Something in your fabric," began Rasputin, "ties you here." Tiring of his obsession with the candy girl, Rasputin hauled back and slapped Nathan across the face to wake him from his trance. "So take a breath and mend the wound, or pull the thread and disappear."
The trees began to bend to shape a structure of a horrifying atmosphere. The limbs knotted and tangled in a way that was far less than inviting, yet the dark creatures gathering around seemed unfazed by its appearance. The spider crawled happily inside, joined by a white tattooed and pierced individual who looked as unstable as he was off-putting. Several others climbed inside as Nathan seemed to be directing them to.
"I've designed this Institution." Nathan sang with glee. (No, not the television series. Ew.) "The lunatics are honored guests."
Without warning, a red clad man with a blue face and a black mask popped in from nowhere, interrupting the whole scene with a brand of idiotic bouncing and climbing Nathan like a tree, perching himself atop his hat like a monkey. Nathan waved a hand, sending the new arrival far away with a yelp. "And it was invitation only. The murderers are here at my request."
As he calmed from the conclusion of his creation, he noted the concern in his sister's eyes. "I don't wish distress upon you." He noticed the same reaction from Rasputin. "Or to be a dreadful host." He explained the need for what was about to happen. The events of Living a Legacy, regardless of the outcome, this would be the beginning of a war within the ranks of Pure Class Wrestling, one that will have casualties.
Rasputin steeled himself against his friend after hearing the plan. "But you'll likely get what you want the least..." In his mind, the Russian Madman recalled his own journey down this road. "...Just when you need it most."
Naomi knew what Grigori was talking about. She morphed into Tarrant to alleviate her brother's pain of loss, but in the interim, she had to give up the love of her life; Grigori Rasputin. The recollection began to cause her waterworks to open from the regret.
Before she could sink into her own self-pity, Rasputin rushed to her side, cupping her face in his rugged hand. "Don't fall apart," he instructed her. "This is a gift. I promise you." He reached to the ground, snatching up another shadowy spider and blowing on it gently. In reaction to his unspoken command, the critter spun a web that began cocooning Nathan, restraining him. "A silken thread to mend your injury..."
Naomi joined in casting the spell to subdue her brother. "...But if it scars or not," she bellowed, "is up to you."
"Something in your bones calls you here," repeated Rasputin in an attempt to understand just what it was that Nathan thought his plan would accomplish. "Something in your fabric ties you here."
The spider spent of its silk, Naomi placed it gently on the ground, approaching her brother to attempt to appease his nearly bloodthirsty demeanor. "So take a breath, and mend the wound."
Nathan peered from under a covering of web, his eyes still aglow with rage. He knew if it came to the unthinkable, he would have to tap this inner demon of its power. That was the vision the Stranger imparted upon him. "Or pull the thread," he muttered as he yanked himself free from his entrapment, "and disappear." In a puff of purple smoke, the wrapping that once enveloped him fell empty of its quarry, leaving both Rasputin and Naomi wondering just where their charge had gone.
Nathan came to many realizations on this voyage. He knew that if he were forced to finally face his beloved head-on as slated for the pay-per-view, he would have to pull out all stops. He knew that the Black Hand as a whole, and William "Sadistic" Dillinger in particular, would go to every length to remove the thorn in their side that was Nathan Saniti; a thorn they themselves had put in place with their actions.
Finally, he knew he would have to go down this path, not alone, but without the present company he kept. The company he needed to have at his side would need to be willing to help him regardless of the cost. They would need to be the kind of people that could trump the shenanigans of the Brothers Dillinger and company. They would have to be far more dangerous, perhaps even unstable.
For far too long, the Black Hand have moved the chess pieces to their whim. If I'm to take their Queen, I shall need pawns of my own." Nathan readied himself as he entered the arena doors to prepare for a battle he didn't desire. He would try one last time to reason with his love and pry her from the grasp of the Hand. Gold or no gold, her would show Kelli and the Black Hand alike that a strap of leather doesn't afford the bearer true power. He would demonstrate to them and the world alike that true power come from the depths within. This would be a war that the Black Hand would regret having ever started.
