Post by Tempestad on May 31, 2010 2:30:55 GMT -6
Open on a sweeping shot of the interior of the beautiful Cathedral of St. Paul in Detroit, Michigan. The camera immediately locates Tempestad sitting in one of the pews, but instead of his head being bent in prayer, he is simply silent, looking down at the ground. The events of Saturday's match between Gabriel Karras and Sephiroth du Lac flash through his head, and he winces as he remembers Gabriel's forehead being ripped open by Sephiroth's teeth. Tempestad sighs, looking into the tile as if some magic solution will appear to all of his problems: Gabriel's pride, Sephiroth's rage...and his sister's naïvete. He murmurs, clearly distraught due to the recent events in both his personal and professional life.
“God, what is it you are doing? Why have you chosen to test me this way? You pit two of my allies against each other, and now you want me to fight them? Gabriel is my friend and Sephiroth is the man my sister loves...she loves him more than she loves me now. She has become consumed of him. Nothing is good enough for her anymore. I...am never good enough. I am always “not accepting enough of Sephiroth” or “too protective” or some other reason for her repeated tongue-lashings. She always has to come up with another thing to pin on me. And I...am SICK of it.”
He stands up, hand clenching the top of the pew. He shakes with anger, seething at all of the responsibility and abuse that has been heaped upon him.
“I am sick and tired of being the bad guy. I do not want to hear a damn thing about not being good enough to Sephiroth. Maria, te amo. Tú eres mi mundo, hermana. But if you will not believe me, if you insist that I am being malicious and do not want you to have a good life...then I cannot help you anymore. You are a fully grown woman. You can make your own decisions and your own mistakes, as you have reminded me. I do not have to protect you. Let your big man do that.”
He grips the bench with his other hand now, digging into the wood ever so slightly. His crucifix hangs freely around his neck, dangling beneath his face. He speaks with a voice dripping hostility and contempt.
“Sephiroth, oh, Sephiroth. What a fine team we make. What have we done? We have won, for sure. But it never seems to change a thing: you spite me, and Maria hates me. If you want to attack me for doing my JOB on Saturday and not letting you assault Gabriel after your match, then fine. But remember, PARTNER. Since Maria does not want me to be her guardian anymore, that duty falls up on you. And I promise, if you do anything to her or let any harm befall her, I will take it out on your hide. There will be no turning of the other cheek, just retribution. Divine, righteous fury falling upon you. And rest assured, I will be MORE than happy to rain hell down on you. For every moment you have put me through, for every time I hear Maria screaming at me because I have done something to slight you, I will pay you back tenfold. I will have my pound of flesh.”
Tempestad grins, a sick, demented grin, completely out of character for the normally easygoing and friendly luchadore.
“Sephiroth, do you think that you are untouchable? You are not, by ANY means. A wise man once said “If you make God bleed, people will cease to believe in Him.” I made you bleed by pinning you. I was the first man to do so. And people stopped believing. I made you mortal in their eyes. I dethroned the monster. And I can do that again at a moment's notice. Let me remind you that you have never pinned me. You have never made me submit. I am your antithesis, the light to your darkness, the hero to your villain...but sometimes, the hero decides that he needs to fight fire with fire. If we are to fight, know that I fight for her. If I could have her see that...that I still care...I say that I do not, but...I will always care. I will always fight for her, because she is my blood. She is my family, and nothing will ever be able to change that, as much as she might want to sometimes. I would not have it any other way...and after everything, this includes you becoming part of it.”
Tempestad sinks back into the pew, looking up at the stained-glass masterpieces that line the walls of the cathedral. He basks in their beauty for a moment before resuming the ugly task of cutting his opponent and former friend down to size.
“Gabriel, do not think I had forgotten you. You insulted my sister like none other has before. You dare call her the Whore of Babylon? You DARE call her Jezebel?! Desiree is, by your own admission, a pleasure-seeker, a HARLOT of the lowest grade! You whip her for discipline, and I do not doubt that she enjoys it! Gabriel, you have no place condemning the actions of others. “And they come unto thee as the people cometh, and they sit before thee as my people, and they hear thy words, but they will not do them: for with their mouth they shew much love, but their heart goeth after their covetousness. And, lo, thou art unto them as a very lovely song of one that hath a pleasant voice, and can play well on an instrument: for they hear thy words, but they do them not.” Ezekiel 33. You are a hypocrite, Karras. You were my partner. Did I WANT to team with Sephiroth? No. Not at all. But did I, for the sake of my sister and peace? Yes. But would I support the vile acts that he has committed in the past? Not in a millennium. So get off the pulpit for once and realize that YOU HAVE NO HIGH GROUND. You have no justification to fall back on.”
He picks up the Bible that sits in a holder on the back of the pew, looking at the holy text with a mixture of reverence and confusion. He moves as if to open it up, but pauses, before finally just sliding it back in where he found it. He stands up, releasing his other hand's grip on the wood in front of him. Tension seems to leave his body as he walks out of the row and back towards the exit, dwarfed by the cathedral interior. His coat drags along the ground lightly, sweeping away any dust that had accumulated on the ground.
“Gabriel, Sephiroth. You both believe you are in the right, and you will fight to prove that. You want each other to suffer. Me? I want you both to just...GO AWAY. I want to have my life back. Before this business with you two squabbling like children. Before I could not speak to my sister because she thought I was out to ruin her. This Sunday at Reborn, I will take this chance to vent my frustrations upon you. There will be no discriminating. Gabriel will get it as much as Sephiroth does. And when the dust has settled, and you both lay upon the canvas, defeated, I will be able to rest easy. I will know that I finally got what I wanted: closure. For is that not what we all want? A little closure? I think so. Vaya con Dios, you two. And may He save you from my anger.”
Tempestad stalks out the front doors of the church. Fade to black on his retreating form.
“God, what is it you are doing? Why have you chosen to test me this way? You pit two of my allies against each other, and now you want me to fight them? Gabriel is my friend and Sephiroth is the man my sister loves...she loves him more than she loves me now. She has become consumed of him. Nothing is good enough for her anymore. I...am never good enough. I am always “not accepting enough of Sephiroth” or “too protective” or some other reason for her repeated tongue-lashings. She always has to come up with another thing to pin on me. And I...am SICK of it.”
He stands up, hand clenching the top of the pew. He shakes with anger, seething at all of the responsibility and abuse that has been heaped upon him.
“I am sick and tired of being the bad guy. I do not want to hear a damn thing about not being good enough to Sephiroth. Maria, te amo. Tú eres mi mundo, hermana. But if you will not believe me, if you insist that I am being malicious and do not want you to have a good life...then I cannot help you anymore. You are a fully grown woman. You can make your own decisions and your own mistakes, as you have reminded me. I do not have to protect you. Let your big man do that.”
He grips the bench with his other hand now, digging into the wood ever so slightly. His crucifix hangs freely around his neck, dangling beneath his face. He speaks with a voice dripping hostility and contempt.
“Sephiroth, oh, Sephiroth. What a fine team we make. What have we done? We have won, for sure. But it never seems to change a thing: you spite me, and Maria hates me. If you want to attack me for doing my JOB on Saturday and not letting you assault Gabriel after your match, then fine. But remember, PARTNER. Since Maria does not want me to be her guardian anymore, that duty falls up on you. And I promise, if you do anything to her or let any harm befall her, I will take it out on your hide. There will be no turning of the other cheek, just retribution. Divine, righteous fury falling upon you. And rest assured, I will be MORE than happy to rain hell down on you. For every moment you have put me through, for every time I hear Maria screaming at me because I have done something to slight you, I will pay you back tenfold. I will have my pound of flesh.”
Tempestad grins, a sick, demented grin, completely out of character for the normally easygoing and friendly luchadore.
“Sephiroth, do you think that you are untouchable? You are not, by ANY means. A wise man once said “If you make God bleed, people will cease to believe in Him.” I made you bleed by pinning you. I was the first man to do so. And people stopped believing. I made you mortal in their eyes. I dethroned the monster. And I can do that again at a moment's notice. Let me remind you that you have never pinned me. You have never made me submit. I am your antithesis, the light to your darkness, the hero to your villain...but sometimes, the hero decides that he needs to fight fire with fire. If we are to fight, know that I fight for her. If I could have her see that...that I still care...I say that I do not, but...I will always care. I will always fight for her, because she is my blood. She is my family, and nothing will ever be able to change that, as much as she might want to sometimes. I would not have it any other way...and after everything, this includes you becoming part of it.”
Tempestad sinks back into the pew, looking up at the stained-glass masterpieces that line the walls of the cathedral. He basks in their beauty for a moment before resuming the ugly task of cutting his opponent and former friend down to size.
“Gabriel, do not think I had forgotten you. You insulted my sister like none other has before. You dare call her the Whore of Babylon? You DARE call her Jezebel?! Desiree is, by your own admission, a pleasure-seeker, a HARLOT of the lowest grade! You whip her for discipline, and I do not doubt that she enjoys it! Gabriel, you have no place condemning the actions of others. “And they come unto thee as the people cometh, and they sit before thee as my people, and they hear thy words, but they will not do them: for with their mouth they shew much love, but their heart goeth after their covetousness. And, lo, thou art unto them as a very lovely song of one that hath a pleasant voice, and can play well on an instrument: for they hear thy words, but they do them not.” Ezekiel 33. You are a hypocrite, Karras. You were my partner. Did I WANT to team with Sephiroth? No. Not at all. But did I, for the sake of my sister and peace? Yes. But would I support the vile acts that he has committed in the past? Not in a millennium. So get off the pulpit for once and realize that YOU HAVE NO HIGH GROUND. You have no justification to fall back on.”
He picks up the Bible that sits in a holder on the back of the pew, looking at the holy text with a mixture of reverence and confusion. He moves as if to open it up, but pauses, before finally just sliding it back in where he found it. He stands up, releasing his other hand's grip on the wood in front of him. Tension seems to leave his body as he walks out of the row and back towards the exit, dwarfed by the cathedral interior. His coat drags along the ground lightly, sweeping away any dust that had accumulated on the ground.
“Gabriel, Sephiroth. You both believe you are in the right, and you will fight to prove that. You want each other to suffer. Me? I want you both to just...GO AWAY. I want to have my life back. Before this business with you two squabbling like children. Before I could not speak to my sister because she thought I was out to ruin her. This Sunday at Reborn, I will take this chance to vent my frustrations upon you. There will be no discriminating. Gabriel will get it as much as Sephiroth does. And when the dust has settled, and you both lay upon the canvas, defeated, I will be able to rest easy. I will know that I finally got what I wanted: closure. For is that not what we all want? A little closure? I think so. Vaya con Dios, you two. And may He save you from my anger.”
Tempestad stalks out the front doors of the church. Fade to black on his retreating form.