Post by Cyrus Daniels on Nov 18, 2012 17:02:04 GMT -6
It had been almost two months now. Almost eight weeks that Cyrus Daniels had not been seen inside an NCW ring, and aside from the occassional talk with the Crocodile Hunter, usually pep talks about matches over Carly's awful cooking, though everybody was much too polite to say anything to her face, Cyrus had spent most of his time with me.
These last eight weeks we had grown closer, at least in the physical sense, slowly Cyrus had found his rhythm again,for the most part, gone were the awkward fumbles and stuttered apologies of a man who had not felt the touch of a woman in a decade, as crass as the analogy was, it really was like riding a bicycle when it came back to him.
I had been a patient lover, considerate, fair, understanding. I was a doctor so the bedside manner came naturally to me, although this was perhaps the most unorthodox method of spending time with a man who technically should be my 'patient' by all accounts after his episode. Thankfully though he wasn't my patient, he was Leon Wesker's. Thank God for that, or I might have felt even more guilty and dirty about not spending as much time with my brother as I probably should have than I already do.
Leon was the Head Emergency Medical Technician for New Championship Wrestling, a nice enough man, very chatty, almost always impeccably dressed and just so damn proud of his job. He often told me about 'on the road' stories of all the wrestling injuries he had seen, I guess he figured as a doctor myself I could take it - the blood, the guts and the gore I mean - and like a true medical professional he spared no detail, no matter how graphic.
Cyrus was by all accounts, a much simpler man, and maybe that's why I loved him, he was a nice distraction at times, a real throwback to how a real man should be, gruff, hulking, full of testosterone, piss and vinegar, not like these 21st century metrosexual men with their hair gels and moisteurisers, who wept about dry skin almost as much as most girly women wept about broken nails. Urgh, I had no time for them, they were a dime a dozen, and most of them were doctors I had worked with back home in Oz. The kind of greasy, slimy assholes who thought getting a girl into their Porsche was some kind of foreplay.
Before I had met him, I was convinced men like Cyrus didn't exist, little did I know society had locked them all away in favour of a new breed of man. Cyrus wasn't like that, not at all, and whilst he had the stomach for Leon's stories - perhaps as a consequence of sharing a cell with my brother for 18 months - he didn't have the ear or the interest to even try and decipher half of the 'medical mumbo jumbo' Leon and I had grown accustomed to. Often times he would just get up and leave, going to grab an apple juice from the ice-box. It was remarkable to watch him and his relationship with that beverage, it calmed him, it settled him almost in a way that alcoholics claimed their drink of choice did.
Cyrus didn't drink alcohol to an excess, in fact I hadn't seen him touch a drop since his little adventure with Sydney, perhaps he felt guilty, perhaps that's what all the make up sex about, even though in retrospect I realised that he had nothing to apologise for, he didn't smoke anymore - thanks largely to Stephen's influence - encouraging him to weight train instead and he never did drugs. He was so against the latter in fact that he was rather disgusted that Washington and Colorado had legalised Marijuana, made worse by the fact that we lived in the former, by virtue of my brother's apartment being here.
I had never taken Cyrus as a man of a particularly strong political opinion, at least not American politics, but for some reason the issue had really struck a nerve with him. I didn't probe any further, he was a remarkably private man, and had instead deflected it with some joke about how ironic it was that Stephen and Cyrus had ended up in Washington - the heart of America - and yet they were being paid to play the ultimate anti-Americans on national television.
After the first two weeks, Leon had stopped stopping for a daily update on Cyrus' condition, instead trusting his care to my medical judgment, and occassionally remarking that he was so lucky to have a 'personal doctor' like me around so he could fly back to NCW Headquarters and 'stop spending all of the Fox family money' on a two-week all expense paid business trip specifically for Cyrus. Whoever said Kelly didn't care about those under her employ quite frankly were wrong. She had wanted Cyrus back on her active roster as soon as possible, if she didn't she'd never have paid for Leon to come out here and personally see to his recovery.
On his last visit out here, Leon was convinced that Cyrus was going to be fine, but as neither he nor I had any explanation for his blackout, he had advised at least another four to six weeks rest to be certain and to be on the safe side. As far as I knew Cyrus had no family history of this kind of thing and he absolutely insisted that nothing like this had ever happened before or since, and I had no reason to not believe him. Still it didn't stop me worrying about him, especially when he'd insist on going to the gym and training with Stephen. Apparently he was preparing himself for an in-ring return and as such had decided to add a few new moves to his repetoire.
This morning however, he wasn't at the gym, he was in my bed. Perhaps not surprising, but what might surprise you is that I wasn't lying next to him whilst he was sleeping off our last round of love-making...
Nicole sat in her room, at her desk, with her laptop, in wearing nothing but a scarlet robe to keep her modesty,as the floor was littered with various items of her clothing and Cyrus'.
She grinned as she read a new email from Leon Wesker.
No, Stephen didn't know about this yet, neither did Cyrus. I suppose it was time to tell them.
Yes it was crazy, it was stupid, it was impulsive.
Nicole turned away from her computer screen, twirling in her chair to look over at the big handsome giant of a man sleeping peacefully in her bed, she smiled.
But then so was being in love...
These last eight weeks we had grown closer, at least in the physical sense, slowly Cyrus had found his rhythm again,for the most part, gone were the awkward fumbles and stuttered apologies of a man who had not felt the touch of a woman in a decade, as crass as the analogy was, it really was like riding a bicycle when it came back to him.
I had been a patient lover, considerate, fair, understanding. I was a doctor so the bedside manner came naturally to me, although this was perhaps the most unorthodox method of spending time with a man who technically should be my 'patient' by all accounts after his episode. Thankfully though he wasn't my patient, he was Leon Wesker's. Thank God for that, or I might have felt even more guilty and dirty about not spending as much time with my brother as I probably should have than I already do.
Leon was the Head Emergency Medical Technician for New Championship Wrestling, a nice enough man, very chatty, almost always impeccably dressed and just so damn proud of his job. He often told me about 'on the road' stories of all the wrestling injuries he had seen, I guess he figured as a doctor myself I could take it - the blood, the guts and the gore I mean - and like a true medical professional he spared no detail, no matter how graphic.
Cyrus was by all accounts, a much simpler man, and maybe that's why I loved him, he was a nice distraction at times, a real throwback to how a real man should be, gruff, hulking, full of testosterone, piss and vinegar, not like these 21st century metrosexual men with their hair gels and moisteurisers, who wept about dry skin almost as much as most girly women wept about broken nails. Urgh, I had no time for them, they were a dime a dozen, and most of them were doctors I had worked with back home in Oz. The kind of greasy, slimy assholes who thought getting a girl into their Porsche was some kind of foreplay.
Before I had met him, I was convinced men like Cyrus didn't exist, little did I know society had locked them all away in favour of a new breed of man. Cyrus wasn't like that, not at all, and whilst he had the stomach for Leon's stories - perhaps as a consequence of sharing a cell with my brother for 18 months - he didn't have the ear or the interest to even try and decipher half of the 'medical mumbo jumbo' Leon and I had grown accustomed to. Often times he would just get up and leave, going to grab an apple juice from the ice-box. It was remarkable to watch him and his relationship with that beverage, it calmed him, it settled him almost in a way that alcoholics claimed their drink of choice did.
Cyrus didn't drink alcohol to an excess, in fact I hadn't seen him touch a drop since his little adventure with Sydney, perhaps he felt guilty, perhaps that's what all the make up sex about, even though in retrospect I realised that he had nothing to apologise for, he didn't smoke anymore - thanks largely to Stephen's influence - encouraging him to weight train instead and he never did drugs. He was so against the latter in fact that he was rather disgusted that Washington and Colorado had legalised Marijuana, made worse by the fact that we lived in the former, by virtue of my brother's apartment being here.
I had never taken Cyrus as a man of a particularly strong political opinion, at least not American politics, but for some reason the issue had really struck a nerve with him. I didn't probe any further, he was a remarkably private man, and had instead deflected it with some joke about how ironic it was that Stephen and Cyrus had ended up in Washington - the heart of America - and yet they were being paid to play the ultimate anti-Americans on national television.
After the first two weeks, Leon had stopped stopping for a daily update on Cyrus' condition, instead trusting his care to my medical judgment, and occassionally remarking that he was so lucky to have a 'personal doctor' like me around so he could fly back to NCW Headquarters and 'stop spending all of the Fox family money' on a two-week all expense paid business trip specifically for Cyrus. Whoever said Kelly didn't care about those under her employ quite frankly were wrong. She had wanted Cyrus back on her active roster as soon as possible, if she didn't she'd never have paid for Leon to come out here and personally see to his recovery.
On his last visit out here, Leon was convinced that Cyrus was going to be fine, but as neither he nor I had any explanation for his blackout, he had advised at least another four to six weeks rest to be certain and to be on the safe side. As far as I knew Cyrus had no family history of this kind of thing and he absolutely insisted that nothing like this had ever happened before or since, and I had no reason to not believe him. Still it didn't stop me worrying about him, especially when he'd insist on going to the gym and training with Stephen. Apparently he was preparing himself for an in-ring return and as such had decided to add a few new moves to his repetoire.
This morning however, he wasn't at the gym, he was in my bed. Perhaps not surprising, but what might surprise you is that I wasn't lying next to him whilst he was sleeping off our last round of love-making...
Nicole sat in her room, at her desk, with her laptop, in wearing nothing but a scarlet robe to keep her modesty,as the floor was littered with various items of her clothing and Cyrus'.
She grinned as she read a new email from Leon Wesker.
Dear Miss Kingsley
Application For: Emergency Medical Technician
Thank you for your recent application for the above vacancy.
I am writing to inform you that you have been shortlisted on for the post, beginning Monday January 7th, 2013, as we feel that your skills, expertise and knowledge make you an ideal candiate for the position.
In order for us to consider your application further, I request a face to face interview with you at the Headquarters of New Championship Wresling in Dallas Texas, scheduled for:
Friday, December 7th, 2012 at 10.30 AM.
You will be informed within forty-eight hours of this interview if you have been selected for the position, and I hope that if successful this will give you enough time to prepare your resignation notice for your current position.
Thank you for your interest and I wish you every success in your future career, and please do not hesitate to contact me if you have any further queries on the interview process.
Leon Wesker.
Emergency Medical Technician Lead Team Supervisor
New Championship Wrestling
Telephone: 555-7643
Email: l.wesker@newchampionshipwrestling.com
Application For: Emergency Medical Technician
Thank you for your recent application for the above vacancy.
I am writing to inform you that you have been shortlisted on for the post, beginning Monday January 7th, 2013, as we feel that your skills, expertise and knowledge make you an ideal candiate for the position.
In order for us to consider your application further, I request a face to face interview with you at the Headquarters of New Championship Wresling in Dallas Texas, scheduled for:
Friday, December 7th, 2012 at 10.30 AM.
You will be informed within forty-eight hours of this interview if you have been selected for the position, and I hope that if successful this will give you enough time to prepare your resignation notice for your current position.
Thank you for your interest and I wish you every success in your future career, and please do not hesitate to contact me if you have any further queries on the interview process.
Leon Wesker.
Emergency Medical Technician Lead Team Supervisor
New Championship Wrestling
Telephone: 555-7643
Email: l.wesker@newchampionshipwrestling.com
No, Stephen didn't know about this yet, neither did Cyrus. I suppose it was time to tell them.
Yes it was crazy, it was stupid, it was impulsive.
Nicole turned away from her computer screen, twirling in her chair to look over at the big handsome giant of a man sleeping peacefully in her bed, she smiled.
But then so was being in love...