Post by Persephone on Sept 16, 2019 18:50:17 GMT -5
The scene is still. Dewdrops hang from the vibrant, summer leaves. Clouds are tinted grey. A slight breeze rolls through the picture, branches dancing and whistling and creaking. The largest - an old, proud oak - sits alone on top of a gentle hill that dominates the foreground, casting shade over one of the slopes and the eight men that walk through its long grass. Their heads are bowed, their backs sheltered from the peeking sun by the dense mass of wood and leaf.
Slowly, the camera glides over the scene, until the figures meandering up the hill become clearer. They are dressed in black, hooded cloaks, and their faces are obscured by masks of the same colour. Some represent tragedy, others comedy, but at this point the opposite sides of this duality march together, in time and as one. On their shoulders is a casket without a lid.
They stomp ever-upwards, the long, untamed blades of grass gently waving in the wind, towards two women stood at the trunk of the oak tree. They too are dressed in mourning black, with veils hiding their faces. One is tall and young, her long, black hair thrown back by the breeze. The other is old, short, and fat, grey hair sitting in tight curls atop her head. Both stand stoic and emotionless. In front of them is the grave.
When the bearers arrive, they slowly lower the coffin into its pit, thick arms controlling the structure until they no longer have the strength. It falls with a thud. They turn away wordlessly, marching back in the direction that they've come, a solemn dense macabre in the silent, summer light. The two women creep towards the hole, bending over to pick up a handful of dirt. They reach over the gaping earth and allow the soil to fall. They don't speak. They don't cry. They only turn and leave.
The camera creeps towards the grave, peering into it and blocking the rest of the scene from the viewer. All that is left now are the walls of the hole, brown and cold and unforgiving, and Persephone staring up at the lens.
"I wanted to speak to you all about a vision I was afforded in dreams," she begins, her eyes open and unblinking. "But I have spoken to you several times over and I fear that my word alone is no longer enough. It is not being taken for what it is worth, and my word is worth everything. So, I thought it might be an idea to show you."
The camera slowly inches downwards, into the earth, narrowing in on Persephone. Her hands are resting on her abdomen, her fingers interlocked. She looks comfortable. Almost relaxed.
"These images, of a hill like this one and a tree like this one and a grave like this one, have come to me a number of times in the past week. Ever since The Big Time; Where kings, giants and wild cards alike fall to the one, true Dreamer, and the night through which she dances. Almost every evening since I have watched the coffin brought up the hill to be placed in the grave, and each night I observed my own eyes staring back at me, open and alive but contained in this hole. These are not empty visions. I understand this better than anyone."
We are meandering down towards the buried, the hard soil creeping past the camera as it silently glides. There is no other movement. The hole a self-contained universe with Persephone its only inhabitant. Nothing else mattered, nothing else existed, but her and the words that she spoke.
"This scene does not foreshadow my death, tulips. I am not checking each direction twice before I cross the road, and I still go out in thunderstorms. When Death comes for me I shall greet him like an old friend, but I know that this day is in the distant future. No, tulips; this scene symbolizes stagnation. It is the slow rotting of a corpse that relates to me and my mission. When the body is buried, it is fresh, and only the deadness of the eyes lets you know that there is nothing behind them. Over time, the forces of nature erode and devour, until what is left is nothing like the thing that once was."
She pauses for effect, allowing her audience to find their way through the maze of language she's just laid for them. The edges of her lips curled upwards, a mere suggestion of a smile creeping onto her countenance.
"And like time erodes the integrity and the familiarity of a corpse, my pride have eroded the integrity of my mission. When I first won this belt, I was proud, and that was the problem. I was dazzled by the gold of the tv title, and a week later; Haven’s property was stolen under my watch.My sisters needed me to be the one to don the white armor and go once more unto the breach...but I when I lost this belt to Duncan Aries I proved I was unworthy and The world looked on to Snow and Collins for direction whilst Haven must prove ourselves against the unworthy. This is stagnation and it cannot be explained or excused. When the devil removed himself from heaven and earth... he left behind two things... he left the Seven Deadly Sins of Man... and left his agents, who's job it was enforce the punishments they incurred. His favourite has, and forever shall be... pride. PRIDE... is ever-lasting. PRIDE, is the most alluring of these seven. No matter how many fall to it's vices... pride, will always claim victims. We inhabit a world, in which all of our assumptions of right and wrong, of just and criminal, are passed down from a man who has allowed his pride to poison innocent souls. Princess Madwoman has forever sought a reality in which she is the unquestionable ruler... to achieve such a state, she would be required to brush aside her foes in as swift, and innocent manner as possible. She would need to utilize the energies and legacies of her opposition, feed from their life force, and NOT ONLY SQUEEZE those names dry... but decorate himself in their essence. ONLY when she had removed all of her rivals, could can she ascend the throne. ONLY THEN, can Princess Mad Woman claim... the TV Championship. IN HER POSSESSION, this Holy Grail could be used as a means of mind control. The championship... is a prize that every creature in the Sodom Below aspires to claim. Princess Madwoman KNOWS... that to orchestrate the power it demands, would be the realization of her dreams. Under her control... Princess Madwoman, could establish HER reality."
“Where she’s a hero and I’m the villain that fears her”
Her head almost unconsciously nods along with her final few words, but her eyes slowly begin to travel away from the camera and her face breaks in to a smile... she bows her head, her shoulders beginning to bounce as she stifles a chuckle, but before long, her maniacal laughter breaks through her lips.
"Oh Princess... surely not even YOU can believe such a claim. There is no MAN, CREATURE OR FORCE upon this earth that can strike FEAR in me. I do not fear the challenge that awaits me... I KNOW that in the face of adversity, in times of REAL challenge and danger, you are at your strongest. until the fires of your own pride finally consume you, you will fight for preservation. You will attempt to prolong the inevitable for as long as possible, as to provide you a moment to seek forgiveness. But that is just one of the many differences between you and I, Princess. I do not fear defeat, because I KNOW that judgement will find you eventually. You however... you do fear failure. You have never feared it more. BECAUSE YOU KNOW,, that defeat AT MY hand, weakens your image and your message but that you will forced to face the consequences. THAT IS WHAT INSPIRES THE FEAR, I see in your eyes! THAT IS THE FEAR, that set your pulse, Because someone who fears nothing, speaks freely….hides nothing...Lays themselves bare...how can you do that behind a mask?
A small smirk betrays her features
“The opportunity that comes with this is obvious for all to see, I trust. Lex and Tomas cannot dance forever, one would have to assume, and soon enough another challenger must emerge. We enter the coliseum this Tuesday not so much as enemies, but rather as rivals. Claims must be staked, Princess Madwoman, at Sin I intend to make mine at your expense. I am aware, of course, that your answer to this almost writes itself. Even you must see it, in my first reign I was laid low, and people doubted the word of Haven but the phoenix has risen Nobody will be more consistent than me week in, week out, but I’ve yet to prove I can win the big one.”
Within the grave, the camera finally reaches its destination. The shot is taken up Persephone profile, unblinking and solemn. The brightness of her green eyes offset her ghostly pale skin, staring at the lens with clarity and intent.
“It all changes tonight, Princess. A match like this favors conditioning and technical prowess, two things I proved I have over you in You can huff and you can puff but you can’t blow the house of Haven down, and if it takes all night to break your will Then I have all night. This stagnation must be stayed, a message must be sent, the ceiling must be smashed. Regardless of respect, even admiration, Princess, these things can only come to me if they are denied to you. There is no luck that can be wished to you this week, no glory waits at Sin. It has already been decided...Because if you wanna see a madwoman?
From the grave a girlish, childlike giggle escapes her lips as reverts to her secondary personality
“You ain’t seen nothing yet!”
Slowly, the camera glides over the scene, until the figures meandering up the hill become clearer. They are dressed in black, hooded cloaks, and their faces are obscured by masks of the same colour. Some represent tragedy, others comedy, but at this point the opposite sides of this duality march together, in time and as one. On their shoulders is a casket without a lid.
They stomp ever-upwards, the long, untamed blades of grass gently waving in the wind, towards two women stood at the trunk of the oak tree. They too are dressed in mourning black, with veils hiding their faces. One is tall and young, her long, black hair thrown back by the breeze. The other is old, short, and fat, grey hair sitting in tight curls atop her head. Both stand stoic and emotionless. In front of them is the grave.
When the bearers arrive, they slowly lower the coffin into its pit, thick arms controlling the structure until they no longer have the strength. It falls with a thud. They turn away wordlessly, marching back in the direction that they've come, a solemn dense macabre in the silent, summer light. The two women creep towards the hole, bending over to pick up a handful of dirt. They reach over the gaping earth and allow the soil to fall. They don't speak. They don't cry. They only turn and leave.
The camera creeps towards the grave, peering into it and blocking the rest of the scene from the viewer. All that is left now are the walls of the hole, brown and cold and unforgiving, and Persephone staring up at the lens.
"I wanted to speak to you all about a vision I was afforded in dreams," she begins, her eyes open and unblinking. "But I have spoken to you several times over and I fear that my word alone is no longer enough. It is not being taken for what it is worth, and my word is worth everything. So, I thought it might be an idea to show you."
The camera slowly inches downwards, into the earth, narrowing in on Persephone. Her hands are resting on her abdomen, her fingers interlocked. She looks comfortable. Almost relaxed.
"These images, of a hill like this one and a tree like this one and a grave like this one, have come to me a number of times in the past week. Ever since The Big Time; Where kings, giants and wild cards alike fall to the one, true Dreamer, and the night through which she dances. Almost every evening since I have watched the coffin brought up the hill to be placed in the grave, and each night I observed my own eyes staring back at me, open and alive but contained in this hole. These are not empty visions. I understand this better than anyone."
We are meandering down towards the buried, the hard soil creeping past the camera as it silently glides. There is no other movement. The hole a self-contained universe with Persephone its only inhabitant. Nothing else mattered, nothing else existed, but her and the words that she spoke.
"This scene does not foreshadow my death, tulips. I am not checking each direction twice before I cross the road, and I still go out in thunderstorms. When Death comes for me I shall greet him like an old friend, but I know that this day is in the distant future. No, tulips; this scene symbolizes stagnation. It is the slow rotting of a corpse that relates to me and my mission. When the body is buried, it is fresh, and only the deadness of the eyes lets you know that there is nothing behind them. Over time, the forces of nature erode and devour, until what is left is nothing like the thing that once was."
She pauses for effect, allowing her audience to find their way through the maze of language she's just laid for them. The edges of her lips curled upwards, a mere suggestion of a smile creeping onto her countenance.
"And like time erodes the integrity and the familiarity of a corpse, my pride have eroded the integrity of my mission. When I first won this belt, I was proud, and that was the problem. I was dazzled by the gold of the tv title, and a week later; Haven’s property was stolen under my watch.My sisters needed me to be the one to don the white armor and go once more unto the breach...but I when I lost this belt to Duncan Aries I proved I was unworthy and The world looked on to Snow and Collins for direction whilst Haven must prove ourselves against the unworthy. This is stagnation and it cannot be explained or excused. When the devil removed himself from heaven and earth... he left behind two things... he left the Seven Deadly Sins of Man... and left his agents, who's job it was enforce the punishments they incurred. His favourite has, and forever shall be... pride. PRIDE... is ever-lasting. PRIDE, is the most alluring of these seven. No matter how many fall to it's vices... pride, will always claim victims. We inhabit a world, in which all of our assumptions of right and wrong, of just and criminal, are passed down from a man who has allowed his pride to poison innocent souls. Princess Madwoman has forever sought a reality in which she is the unquestionable ruler... to achieve such a state, she would be required to brush aside her foes in as swift, and innocent manner as possible. She would need to utilize the energies and legacies of her opposition, feed from their life force, and NOT ONLY SQUEEZE those names dry... but decorate himself in their essence. ONLY when she had removed all of her rivals, could can she ascend the throne. ONLY THEN, can Princess Mad Woman claim... the TV Championship. IN HER POSSESSION, this Holy Grail could be used as a means of mind control. The championship... is a prize that every creature in the Sodom Below aspires to claim. Princess Madwoman KNOWS... that to orchestrate the power it demands, would be the realization of her dreams. Under her control... Princess Madwoman, could establish HER reality."
“Where she’s a hero and I’m the villain that fears her”
Her head almost unconsciously nods along with her final few words, but her eyes slowly begin to travel away from the camera and her face breaks in to a smile... she bows her head, her shoulders beginning to bounce as she stifles a chuckle, but before long, her maniacal laughter breaks through her lips.
"Oh Princess... surely not even YOU can believe such a claim. There is no MAN, CREATURE OR FORCE upon this earth that can strike FEAR in me. I do not fear the challenge that awaits me... I KNOW that in the face of adversity, in times of REAL challenge and danger, you are at your strongest. until the fires of your own pride finally consume you, you will fight for preservation. You will attempt to prolong the inevitable for as long as possible, as to provide you a moment to seek forgiveness. But that is just one of the many differences between you and I, Princess. I do not fear defeat, because I KNOW that judgement will find you eventually. You however... you do fear failure. You have never feared it more. BECAUSE YOU KNOW,, that defeat AT MY hand, weakens your image and your message but that you will forced to face the consequences. THAT IS WHAT INSPIRES THE FEAR, I see in your eyes! THAT IS THE FEAR, that set your pulse, Because someone who fears nothing, speaks freely….hides nothing...Lays themselves bare...how can you do that behind a mask?
A small smirk betrays her features
“The opportunity that comes with this is obvious for all to see, I trust. Lex and Tomas cannot dance forever, one would have to assume, and soon enough another challenger must emerge. We enter the coliseum this Tuesday not so much as enemies, but rather as rivals. Claims must be staked, Princess Madwoman, at Sin I intend to make mine at your expense. I am aware, of course, that your answer to this almost writes itself. Even you must see it, in my first reign I was laid low, and people doubted the word of Haven but the phoenix has risen Nobody will be more consistent than me week in, week out, but I’ve yet to prove I can win the big one.”
Within the grave, the camera finally reaches its destination. The shot is taken up Persephone profile, unblinking and solemn. The brightness of her green eyes offset her ghostly pale skin, staring at the lens with clarity and intent.
“It all changes tonight, Princess. A match like this favors conditioning and technical prowess, two things I proved I have over you in You can huff and you can puff but you can’t blow the house of Haven down, and if it takes all night to break your will Then I have all night. This stagnation must be stayed, a message must be sent, the ceiling must be smashed. Regardless of respect, even admiration, Princess, these things can only come to me if they are denied to you. There is no luck that can be wished to you this week, no glory waits at Sin. It has already been decided...Because if you wanna see a madwoman?
From the grave a girlish, childlike giggle escapes her lips as reverts to her secondary personality
“You ain’t seen nothing yet!”