We Make Them Their Own Worst Nightmare
Sept 18, 2016 21:41:44 GMT
Valentina Lemay and Ernie Parker like this
Post by Quintin Blood on Sept 18, 2016 21:41:44 GMT
(OOC: Posting this so that in future Chatter Media, FanAccess, and RPs people understand that much of the time Quintin Blood character has two personailities inside his head that talk to each other)
Quintin Blood stares into a cracked mirror inside some rundown apartment. His knuckles are white as he grips the sink tightly. His wife beater tank top is drenched with sweat along the neck line and his black jeans still awaiting for the black studded belt to be fastened, though they are buttoned up.
"Why?"
He jerks the sink down hard and the rubber water seal on the wall cracks as he continues to stare in the mirror.
"Because it’s necessary!"
Quintin’s passive persona is taken aback. He lowers his head and closes his eyes. Quintin shakes his head as if to shake out the cobwebs.
"For how long?"
He looks up at the mirror. His demeanor changes back and forth between what appears to be two different personas.
“Does it matter?”
He takes in a deep breath. He thinks for a moment, again his demeanor changes.
“No.”
He lowers his eyes looking down at the cracked seal.
“Then stop asking a fool’s question!”
He shakes the sink with all his strength as the seal against the wall cracks more, spreading as it almost reaches all the way across the back of the sink. He
continues to do so like he’s a two year old having a temper tantrum. Each time he presses down the crack spreads further until hardly any seal is left. After a few moments he calms down. He looks up.
“You’re right.”
His lips quiver, and then they suddenly tighten as if two different personalities are trapped at war in his mind.
“Of course I am! Have I ever led you astray?”
Quintin shakes his head.
“Never.”
He stares blankly into the mirror. His eyes glazed over. They begin to water and the slight evidence of a tear begins to trail down from his right eye.
“Then trust me. We will put terror into the hearts of every man, woman, and child that tunes in to watch us maim the entire Victory roster. No one will be able to stand against us.”
Quintin’s glazed over look goes away suddenly. His eyes open wider. He lets go of the sink with his left end, wiping the tear off his cheek. His breathing gets heavier and he gives himself a big smile that is enough to send chills up your spine. He grips the sink with his left hand again.
“Yes, we will. Malice will be our guide.”
“Yes. Epic Online Wrestling will become our domain.”
Quintin laughs sinisterly. He leans his head back as he lets the laugh out as loud as he can, practically howling in amusement. He then suddenly stops laughing and whips his head forward. No smile is on his face as he goes back to staring into the mirror.
“And anyone that stands in our way—“
Quintin tilts his head, asking his other self a question.
“Will tremble before us?”
He nods. Quintin lowers his head again as his shoulders begin to shake. His aggressive persona continues to speak through his lips.
“They will cower and kneel before our feet. Will we show them mercy?”
He looks up, shakes his head, and mouths the word.
“No.”
“Sympathy?”
Again he answers his aggressive half, but this time you can hear a soft whisper as he shakes his head.
“No.”
His demeanor goes back to the aggressive persona. He yanks down on the sink as it slowly begins to come off the wall.
“And when they realize that our cruelty knows no bounds and that our brutality is limitless—“
Quintin slams his right hand against the mirror with a closed fist, cracking it again. His hand is cut just enough to leave a small trace of blood on the mirror as he takes his hand away. He looks at the small cut on his hand and licks the blood. He looks at the mirror with his tongue slowly receding back into his mouth.
“They will know that there is no end. No light at the end of the tunnel. No safe haven to hide themselves from our path of destruction.”
He smiles big as his weaker persona responds.
“Precisely.”
His aggressive persona begins to laugh obnoxiously, tilting his head back as he had done earlier.
“But where do we begin?”
He looks at the mirror with an annoyed look on his face.
“Do I have to tell you everything?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think.”
Quintin’s aggressive persona shakes his head and reaches for the can of Gillette shaving cream.
“You never think.”
“That’s not true.”
He looks at himself in the mirror as he sprays the shaving cream into his hand.
“Is it? Do you expect me to believe that?”
He rubs the shaving gel on his face and neck, lathering it thin to cover the stubble.
“You don’t think ahead. That’s your problem. That’s why I’m here. We can’t afford your docile ways. It would make us look—“
The passive persona finishes his sentence as a question.
“Inadequate?”
He shakes his head.
“No. That’s not the word.”
“Fragile?”
“No. That's not it.”
Quintin grabs a broken piece of glass with a lot of old blood stains on it.
“Pathetic?”
“That’s it!!!”
He smiles big as he points to the mirror.
“What are we doing with that?”
Quintin looks down at the piece of glass in his hand.
“This?”
Fear comes over the face of his passive persona.
“Yes. What are we doing with it?”
“We’re going to shave this stubble off our face as we did a few days ago.”
Quintin lifts the glass to his face.
“But, you haven’t told me where we’re going to begin our course to destroying the Victory roster.”
Just before he puts the glass against his cheek, he looks at himself in the mirror.
“That’s right. I was going to hold your hand and tell you where we’re going to begin laying waste to every single pathetic individual we come across. Wasn’t I?”
He shakes his head.
“Well—“
He cackles as a little bit of shaving cream drops into the dirty sink from his jaw. As if he heard the small dab hit the porcelain, he stops laughing and looks down at the white and green goop. He stares at it for a moment, and then looks up at himself in the mirror.
“We start with breaking them all.”
The passive persona returns, cocking his head backward a bit in surprise.
“All at once? How do we do that?”
His aggressive persona lets out a heavy sigh.
”Not all at once. Yes, we do have that capability. But, instead we break each man and woman down—“
”Mentally?”
”Yes. We break them from within. We make them their own worst nightmare.”
Both personas give a sinister smile. It is almost as if the aggressive persona is looking back at the passive one in the mirror. Quintin goes back to attempting to shave with the piece of glass, but the passive persona stops the other.
"Not with that..."
Quintin puts the piece of glass down and grabs the straight edge razor and starts to shave.
Quintin Blood stares into a cracked mirror inside some rundown apartment. His knuckles are white as he grips the sink tightly. His wife beater tank top is drenched with sweat along the neck line and his black jeans still awaiting for the black studded belt to be fastened, though they are buttoned up.
"Why?"
He jerks the sink down hard and the rubber water seal on the wall cracks as he continues to stare in the mirror.
"Because it’s necessary!"
Quintin’s passive persona is taken aback. He lowers his head and closes his eyes. Quintin shakes his head as if to shake out the cobwebs.
"For how long?"
He looks up at the mirror. His demeanor changes back and forth between what appears to be two different personas.
“Does it matter?”
He takes in a deep breath. He thinks for a moment, again his demeanor changes.
“No.”
He lowers his eyes looking down at the cracked seal.
“Then stop asking a fool’s question!”
He shakes the sink with all his strength as the seal against the wall cracks more, spreading as it almost reaches all the way across the back of the sink. He
continues to do so like he’s a two year old having a temper tantrum. Each time he presses down the crack spreads further until hardly any seal is left. After a few moments he calms down. He looks up.
“You’re right.”
His lips quiver, and then they suddenly tighten as if two different personalities are trapped at war in his mind.
“Of course I am! Have I ever led you astray?”
Quintin shakes his head.
“Never.”
He stares blankly into the mirror. His eyes glazed over. They begin to water and the slight evidence of a tear begins to trail down from his right eye.
“Then trust me. We will put terror into the hearts of every man, woman, and child that tunes in to watch us maim the entire Victory roster. No one will be able to stand against us.”
Quintin’s glazed over look goes away suddenly. His eyes open wider. He lets go of the sink with his left end, wiping the tear off his cheek. His breathing gets heavier and he gives himself a big smile that is enough to send chills up your spine. He grips the sink with his left hand again.
“Yes, we will. Malice will be our guide.”
“Yes. Epic Online Wrestling will become our domain.”
Quintin laughs sinisterly. He leans his head back as he lets the laugh out as loud as he can, practically howling in amusement. He then suddenly stops laughing and whips his head forward. No smile is on his face as he goes back to staring into the mirror.
“And anyone that stands in our way—“
Quintin tilts his head, asking his other self a question.
“Will tremble before us?”
He nods. Quintin lowers his head again as his shoulders begin to shake. His aggressive persona continues to speak through his lips.
“They will cower and kneel before our feet. Will we show them mercy?”
He looks up, shakes his head, and mouths the word.
“No.”
“Sympathy?”
Again he answers his aggressive half, but this time you can hear a soft whisper as he shakes his head.
“No.”
His demeanor goes back to the aggressive persona. He yanks down on the sink as it slowly begins to come off the wall.
“And when they realize that our cruelty knows no bounds and that our brutality is limitless—“
Quintin slams his right hand against the mirror with a closed fist, cracking it again. His hand is cut just enough to leave a small trace of blood on the mirror as he takes his hand away. He looks at the small cut on his hand and licks the blood. He looks at the mirror with his tongue slowly receding back into his mouth.
“They will know that there is no end. No light at the end of the tunnel. No safe haven to hide themselves from our path of destruction.”
He smiles big as his weaker persona responds.
“Precisely.”
His aggressive persona begins to laugh obnoxiously, tilting his head back as he had done earlier.
“But where do we begin?”
He looks at the mirror with an annoyed look on his face.
“Do I have to tell you everything?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think.”
Quintin’s aggressive persona shakes his head and reaches for the can of Gillette shaving cream.
“You never think.”
“That’s not true.”
He looks at himself in the mirror as he sprays the shaving cream into his hand.
“Is it? Do you expect me to believe that?”
He rubs the shaving gel on his face and neck, lathering it thin to cover the stubble.
“You don’t think ahead. That’s your problem. That’s why I’m here. We can’t afford your docile ways. It would make us look—“
The passive persona finishes his sentence as a question.
“Inadequate?”
He shakes his head.
“No. That’s not the word.”
“Fragile?”
“No. That's not it.”
Quintin grabs a broken piece of glass with a lot of old blood stains on it.
“Pathetic?”
“That’s it!!!”
He smiles big as he points to the mirror.
“What are we doing with that?”
Quintin looks down at the piece of glass in his hand.
“This?”
Fear comes over the face of his passive persona.
“Yes. What are we doing with it?”
“We’re going to shave this stubble off our face as we did a few days ago.”
Quintin lifts the glass to his face.
“But, you haven’t told me where we’re going to begin our course to destroying the Victory roster.”
Just before he puts the glass against his cheek, he looks at himself in the mirror.
“That’s right. I was going to hold your hand and tell you where we’re going to begin laying waste to every single pathetic individual we come across. Wasn’t I?”
He shakes his head.
“Well—“
He cackles as a little bit of shaving cream drops into the dirty sink from his jaw. As if he heard the small dab hit the porcelain, he stops laughing and looks down at the white and green goop. He stares at it for a moment, and then looks up at himself in the mirror.
“We start with breaking them all.”
The passive persona returns, cocking his head backward a bit in surprise.
“All at once? How do we do that?”
His aggressive persona lets out a heavy sigh.
”Not all at once. Yes, we do have that capability. But, instead we break each man and woman down—“
”Mentally?”
”Yes. We break them from within. We make them their own worst nightmare.”
Both personas give a sinister smile. It is almost as if the aggressive persona is looking back at the passive one in the mirror. Quintin goes back to attempting to shave with the piece of glass, but the passive persona stops the other.
"Not with that..."
Quintin puts the piece of glass down and grabs the straight edge razor and starts to shave.
