Post by LeKKter tha Lunatik on Jun 19, 2013 21:43:58 GMT -5
*CRASH!!*
The scene snaps onto the close up of a wall, as random objects are hurled towards it. From coffee mugs to picture frames, they all fire at the wall's surface, cracking the paint and the plaster with every collison in the process...
"LEKKTER, LEKKTER PLEASE!! CALM YOURSELF!!"
A familiar voice...the voice of Dr. Rouser Schlesinger. The..."good" doctor's words of plea come accompanied by a shaken and rather stressed out tone of voice as the cameras switch to a quick shot of him. He is half-cowering behind his desk, with his hands in the air, as he ducks and dodges the oncoming onslaught of inanimate objects being heaved in not only his vicinity in general, but at his person as well. The mayhem continues as the doctor continues to pacify the situation...
"LeKKTER!! Please, you have to..."
*ZING!!*
*BLAM!!*
*CRASH!!*
The doctor's words are cut off by the interjecting digital alarm clock whipping past his head and slamming into the wall behind him. LeKKter must have hit the alarm switch, because you can hear the sound of it fainlty chirp out to a death as it shatters to pieces....
...Resembling "Kilroy," Dr. Schlesinger peeks out his head from behind his desk, allowing only the top of his head and face--from the bridge of the nose upwards to the forehead, to poke out with his eyes aligned parallel with the desk's surface. He peers towards the wake of disaster that has been left amongst his office; he remains in this position momentairily, playing it safe until it is okay to make his way back to his seat...
...The cameras begin to pan from the doctor across the room to the right; the scenery slowly is picked up through the camera's lenses as it steadily drifts around the room. Amongst the rubble: manilla envelopes, once filled with the papers which are scattered around next to them, are ripped to shreds; some of them show evident bite marks; broken glass...EVERYWHERE, casued from the breaking of many different items, suchs as picture frames, a flower vase (a BIG flower vase..) drinking glasses and coffee mugs.
The air is filled with upholstery stuffing, most likely from a sofa or a lounge chair; the room is decorated with the same miniscule particles from the stuffing. The source of the stuffing comes into view shortly after the cameras notice the aforementioned: it is the very same chair in which the doctor has had numerous patients lay their heads and kick back their feet and allowed the doctor to get inside their minds....that chair is now tragically a thing of afterthought; the sight of what could be seen as a horror scene....if you were that passionate about furniture.
The cameras then set their sights on the subject at hand--and the one responsible for the disaster--as he sits Indian position in the middle of the mess, his back leaning up against the wall. His dreadlocks hang over his head, covering his face completely; unlike other times, his hair is not dyed in any vibrant colors, just his "natrual" color of dark brown. A lit cigarette rests interlocked between his index and middle fingers; the cherry on the cigarette is larger and un-ashed, as if it was dragged heavily numerous times.
The subject at hand here is one that has been seen relatively scarcely over the past few weeks, particularly since Battle Finale. He has made his usual in-ring appearances over the time, but never was there a time during that span in which he was actually there in little other than a physical form. Something...popped...during that time span since he was on the wrong end of the Scars Cup. His spiritual presence...null and void. His mental stability...highly unbalanced.
His fire...while still burning...not as brightly lit. The subject at hand was not in the same place he was when he made his prescence felt almost a half of a year ago. And, judging by the state of the doctor's office, his temper...has far from cooled. Nor does it look as if it will anytime soon...
...The cameras focus in on LeKKter tha LunatiK...
"Umm.....something I said that may have struck a nerve, LeKKter?"
"......"
"Do you care to further share what's on your mind?"
"......"
"We were making progress, LeKKter. I don't really understand why this hostility sprung up like it has."
"......"
"LeKKter, you can't remain stoic about this forever. There are things you need to reflect upon in order for you to be able to surpass what hinders you. This is your oppurtunity to do so, and I want you to free yourself from what binds you mentally. If...if destroying my office is the manner in which you can vent yourself, then fine, go for it; to hell with couches and lamps....I can refurbish all of it. I mean, IKEA will have all of this replaced...for less that a few hundered dollars. It doesn't worry me to see you take out your energy on these things...."
"Well...don't I feel special. I mean, you are actually WILLING to dig deep into those pockets to express how much I mean to you . Tears."
With his first spoke words, LeKKter raises his head towards the doctor and then bows it back down to the floor, and begins glaring a hole into the carpet.
"....My point being is--"
"Your POINT BEING is that you want to continue to pester me about some shit that happened at Battle Finale! I LOST! I GET IT! I don't need to get into any more particulars about it, OKAY!!??"
"That's not the motivation of this excercise, LeKKter; never would I sit across from you and pick at your issues, NOR would I ever point a taunting finger towards you OR what you represent. So, let's eliminate that idealism right then and there. The actual angle of this whole process is to allow you to open your eyes to something that is MUCH more of an issue when it comes to you."
"WHICH FUCKING IS!?!?"
"Well, that right there, to be honest."
".....WHAT?!?!"
Dr. Rouser pauses.
"Your anger problem."
"...."
"LeKKter, please try to center yourself. I am not criticizing, I am just making observations."
"...."
"LeKKter...please respond to me with something."
By now, it has become apparent that LeKKter's blood had begun to boil over...moreso than before. He sits up, and rolls from the seated position onto his knees. As he does this, he reaches for a picture from underneath the broken glass and frame of the doctor with his hand over the shoulders of a middle -aged woman and two children--boy and girl--sit in front of him and the woman; they are obviously presumed to be his wife and kids. He picks it up by the corner of the picture and shakes off the bits and pieces of glass stuck to it. In the same motion, he reaches in his pocket for his cigarettes and zippo.
"Heh...I see you have a pic of my family there. Hehe...I remember that day on the lake."
He then gives the picture a once over glance and gives an expression-less response. He then strikes his lighter, and the high flames begin to lick alongside the edges of the picture as he places it in the middle of the blue flame.
"Urhmm....that's my fami--I happen to love that pic very mu--"
LeKKter retorts with a menacing glare shot back at the doctor, cutting the doc's sentence off almost instantly. The flame consumes the picture entirely, as he places a cigarette in his mouth. LeKKter brings the lit picture to the cigarette, and uses the flames to light it. He then lets the picture drop to the ground, and burn to ash. He drags his cigarette heavily a few times, and once again bows his head to the ground. Dr. Schlesinger reacts to LeKKter with anger in his voice...
"Thanks....a lot!"
"Hey, you said it yourself, destroying your possessions is my way of ventilation. I got angry....your stuff gets destroyed."
"Ya know, I have been DEALING with you for the longest time now with a passive way of thinking, and it is getting me NOWHERE!! Nothing but disrespect!"
"Oh, really?"
"Yes. LeKKter, I have done nothing but try to be your friend as well as your therapist. And time and again I am met with criticism, insults and an overall unpleasant reaction from you. Now, I have wanted to maintain a professional mannerism when it came to handling you, but I have had it up to HERE with you! Scratch that,...BEYOND HERE with you!! NOW...I am not asking you, I am telling you to SIT DOWN, SHUT UP AND ACT LIKE YOU HAVE A SHRED OF DECENCY IN YOU!!! Annnd...if you DONT...then I WILL inform your P.O....remember him...of your recent indiscretions and I ASSURE YOU...you won't have to worry about talking to me anymore, NOR will you have to worry about your next opponent--at least not in the PCW, anyway. No, your next opponent will be a 6'6" 300 pound convict named DUKE!! ARE WE UNDERSTOOD?!?!"
LeKKter had been giving his undivided--and stunned--attention to the doctor as he ranted long before he was issued the ultimatium the doctor just laid out for him. He drags his cigarette slowly, and exhales. As he does this, LeKKter begins speaking...
"So, yeah...okay; I have a goddamn anger problem. So, sue me."
"A breakthrough. Finally, some admittance." the doctor responded in an exasperated manner.
"Ya know, the more I think about it, Konstantine Weylin had a point when she addresseds me before the Scars CUp at Battle Finale. She pointed out the downsides of letting anger control your actions, and she proved to be right on all bases. And she did what she said she was going to do, and that was capitalize on the vunerability my anger reveals, get inside of my head, and win the match. And she DID win....but she MUST know ONE thing....and that is that she NEVER defeated ME. She never pinned ME to the canvas ONCE during that contest...in fact had she not picked the SCRAPS I LEFT of Liam Reily, then she wouldn't have won ANYTHING.
"But, now is not the time for shoulda, coulda, wouldas. It's is time to re-focus...Lord knows I need to. A lot has been on my mind since I failed to win the Scars cup at BF. TOO much, to be honest. Enough to avert my attention from my recent opponents, and I have paid for such aversion with decisive losses to Brian Stryker and Dante Daevian, respectively.
"I deserved those losses; I shouldve better prepared myself in the coming days leading up to those contests. Am I happy about those losses? HELL NO! In my mind, I outclass BOTH of them, so the fact that they bested me drives me CRAZY...and there it is there. I don't want this to drive me this insane any more! I can't keep letting myself get in my own way with my anger issues. All I want to say is this: I promise that I WILL make it a mission of mine to avenge those losses to Dante AND Stryker...AND Konstantine. Trust and believe, this isn't over. And YOU WILL see me in the near future.
"But, this isn't about them at all, right now. This is about a man who seems to want to bring the worst out of me, for some odd reason or another: Sjin Drako...
"SO, you want to bring out the maddness, huh? It surely seems that way. Misery loves company, and you seem to be a lonely son of a bitch. I don't know what you issues are with me as of yet, Drake...but you have made a serious mistake in sticking your nose into MY world.
"I had no beef with you. At ALL. I don't even know when you became relevant in the first place. NOR do I understand what it is exactly thast I did to you to make you lash out at me in the manner you did. But, you seem to know more about me than I like for you to know. Evidence of that is how you savagely attacked my bad knee a few weeks back. Normal gameplan for most, sure, but the fact you knew which one to go after gives me all I need to know to come to the conclusion that you have been...watching me.
"I see you now, Drake...and I am coming for YOU now. Congratulations, you have made an enemy. Me....
"Fuck this sanctioned match bullshit; Drako, you tried to injure me, for NO REASON whatsoever. You have violated my sense of security, and for that you must be exfoiliated. And At Slamathon, Sjin, I will do more than that. I will see to it that you never try this again with ANYONE else. I will see to it that you remember your erroneous transgressions from past times with a token of our encounter. Be that a broken nose, back, leg, et cetera, I WILL SEE TO IT THAT YOU ARE PUNISHED FOR THIS!!!
"There are PENALTIES for crossing lines that you crossed, Drako. Every action has it's reaction, and buddy, the reaction you are going to recieve on Sunday will pale in comparison to ANY evil, nasty and sinister thing you have ever had the oppurtunity to brag about to the hordes of mindless drones that even take the TIME to acknowledge you. I hate to take a cliche route here, but....Drake, it's fucking ON!
"Corniness aside, you have stepped on my toes for the first and the LAST time, Drako. And it's obvious that I am in you head; otherwise, you wouldn't have dropped a hotly contested match to Brytain Montgomery due to the mere fact that my MUSIC hit. And regardless if I am in your head or not, it doesn't matter. Come Sunday, your head will be ROLLING. Bouncing off the canvas, and rolling the FUCK away.
I can't wait to see you on Sunday, Sjin Drako. I am going to split your face...wiiiiide open.
*END TRANSMISSION*
The scene snaps onto the close up of a wall, as random objects are hurled towards it. From coffee mugs to picture frames, they all fire at the wall's surface, cracking the paint and the plaster with every collison in the process...
"LEKKTER, LEKKTER PLEASE!! CALM YOURSELF!!"
A familiar voice...the voice of Dr. Rouser Schlesinger. The..."good" doctor's words of plea come accompanied by a shaken and rather stressed out tone of voice as the cameras switch to a quick shot of him. He is half-cowering behind his desk, with his hands in the air, as he ducks and dodges the oncoming onslaught of inanimate objects being heaved in not only his vicinity in general, but at his person as well. The mayhem continues as the doctor continues to pacify the situation...
"LeKKTER!! Please, you have to..."
*ZING!!*
*BLAM!!*
*CRASH!!*
The doctor's words are cut off by the interjecting digital alarm clock whipping past his head and slamming into the wall behind him. LeKKter must have hit the alarm switch, because you can hear the sound of it fainlty chirp out to a death as it shatters to pieces....
...Resembling "Kilroy," Dr. Schlesinger peeks out his head from behind his desk, allowing only the top of his head and face--from the bridge of the nose upwards to the forehead, to poke out with his eyes aligned parallel with the desk's surface. He peers towards the wake of disaster that has been left amongst his office; he remains in this position momentairily, playing it safe until it is okay to make his way back to his seat...
...The cameras begin to pan from the doctor across the room to the right; the scenery slowly is picked up through the camera's lenses as it steadily drifts around the room. Amongst the rubble: manilla envelopes, once filled with the papers which are scattered around next to them, are ripped to shreds; some of them show evident bite marks; broken glass...EVERYWHERE, casued from the breaking of many different items, suchs as picture frames, a flower vase (a BIG flower vase..) drinking glasses and coffee mugs.
The air is filled with upholstery stuffing, most likely from a sofa or a lounge chair; the room is decorated with the same miniscule particles from the stuffing. The source of the stuffing comes into view shortly after the cameras notice the aforementioned: it is the very same chair in which the doctor has had numerous patients lay their heads and kick back their feet and allowed the doctor to get inside their minds....that chair is now tragically a thing of afterthought; the sight of what could be seen as a horror scene....if you were that passionate about furniture.
The cameras then set their sights on the subject at hand--and the one responsible for the disaster--as he sits Indian position in the middle of the mess, his back leaning up against the wall. His dreadlocks hang over his head, covering his face completely; unlike other times, his hair is not dyed in any vibrant colors, just his "natrual" color of dark brown. A lit cigarette rests interlocked between his index and middle fingers; the cherry on the cigarette is larger and un-ashed, as if it was dragged heavily numerous times.
The subject at hand here is one that has been seen relatively scarcely over the past few weeks, particularly since Battle Finale. He has made his usual in-ring appearances over the time, but never was there a time during that span in which he was actually there in little other than a physical form. Something...popped...during that time span since he was on the wrong end of the Scars Cup. His spiritual presence...null and void. His mental stability...highly unbalanced.
His fire...while still burning...not as brightly lit. The subject at hand was not in the same place he was when he made his prescence felt almost a half of a year ago. And, judging by the state of the doctor's office, his temper...has far from cooled. Nor does it look as if it will anytime soon...
...The cameras focus in on LeKKter tha LunatiK...
"Umm.....something I said that may have struck a nerve, LeKKter?"
"......"
"Do you care to further share what's on your mind?"
"......"
"We were making progress, LeKKter. I don't really understand why this hostility sprung up like it has."
"......"
"LeKKter, you can't remain stoic about this forever. There are things you need to reflect upon in order for you to be able to surpass what hinders you. This is your oppurtunity to do so, and I want you to free yourself from what binds you mentally. If...if destroying my office is the manner in which you can vent yourself, then fine, go for it; to hell with couches and lamps....I can refurbish all of it. I mean, IKEA will have all of this replaced...for less that a few hundered dollars. It doesn't worry me to see you take out your energy on these things...."
"Well...don't I feel special. I mean, you are actually WILLING to dig deep into those pockets to express how much I mean to you . Tears."
With his first spoke words, LeKKter raises his head towards the doctor and then bows it back down to the floor, and begins glaring a hole into the carpet.
"....My point being is--"
"Your POINT BEING is that you want to continue to pester me about some shit that happened at Battle Finale! I LOST! I GET IT! I don't need to get into any more particulars about it, OKAY!!??"
"That's not the motivation of this excercise, LeKKter; never would I sit across from you and pick at your issues, NOR would I ever point a taunting finger towards you OR what you represent. So, let's eliminate that idealism right then and there. The actual angle of this whole process is to allow you to open your eyes to something that is MUCH more of an issue when it comes to you."
"WHICH FUCKING IS!?!?"
"Well, that right there, to be honest."
".....WHAT?!?!"
Dr. Rouser pauses.
"Your anger problem."
"...."
"LeKKter, please try to center yourself. I am not criticizing, I am just making observations."
"...."
"LeKKter...please respond to me with something."
By now, it has become apparent that LeKKter's blood had begun to boil over...moreso than before. He sits up, and rolls from the seated position onto his knees. As he does this, he reaches for a picture from underneath the broken glass and frame of the doctor with his hand over the shoulders of a middle -aged woman and two children--boy and girl--sit in front of him and the woman; they are obviously presumed to be his wife and kids. He picks it up by the corner of the picture and shakes off the bits and pieces of glass stuck to it. In the same motion, he reaches in his pocket for his cigarettes and zippo.
"Heh...I see you have a pic of my family there. Hehe...I remember that day on the lake."
He then gives the picture a once over glance and gives an expression-less response. He then strikes his lighter, and the high flames begin to lick alongside the edges of the picture as he places it in the middle of the blue flame.
"Urhmm....that's my fami--I happen to love that pic very mu--"
LeKKter retorts with a menacing glare shot back at the doctor, cutting the doc's sentence off almost instantly. The flame consumes the picture entirely, as he places a cigarette in his mouth. LeKKter brings the lit picture to the cigarette, and uses the flames to light it. He then lets the picture drop to the ground, and burn to ash. He drags his cigarette heavily a few times, and once again bows his head to the ground. Dr. Schlesinger reacts to LeKKter with anger in his voice...
"Thanks....a lot!"
"Hey, you said it yourself, destroying your possessions is my way of ventilation. I got angry....your stuff gets destroyed."
"Ya know, I have been DEALING with you for the longest time now with a passive way of thinking, and it is getting me NOWHERE!! Nothing but disrespect!"
"Oh, really?"
"Yes. LeKKter, I have done nothing but try to be your friend as well as your therapist. And time and again I am met with criticism, insults and an overall unpleasant reaction from you. Now, I have wanted to maintain a professional mannerism when it came to handling you, but I have had it up to HERE with you! Scratch that,...BEYOND HERE with you!! NOW...I am not asking you, I am telling you to SIT DOWN, SHUT UP AND ACT LIKE YOU HAVE A SHRED OF DECENCY IN YOU!!! Annnd...if you DONT...then I WILL inform your P.O....remember him...of your recent indiscretions and I ASSURE YOU...you won't have to worry about talking to me anymore, NOR will you have to worry about your next opponent--at least not in the PCW, anyway. No, your next opponent will be a 6'6" 300 pound convict named DUKE!! ARE WE UNDERSTOOD?!?!"
LeKKter had been giving his undivided--and stunned--attention to the doctor as he ranted long before he was issued the ultimatium the doctor just laid out for him. He drags his cigarette slowly, and exhales. As he does this, LeKKter begins speaking...
"So, yeah...okay; I have a goddamn anger problem. So, sue me."
"A breakthrough. Finally, some admittance." the doctor responded in an exasperated manner.
"Ya know, the more I think about it, Konstantine Weylin had a point when she addresseds me before the Scars CUp at Battle Finale. She pointed out the downsides of letting anger control your actions, and she proved to be right on all bases. And she did what she said she was going to do, and that was capitalize on the vunerability my anger reveals, get inside of my head, and win the match. And she DID win....but she MUST know ONE thing....and that is that she NEVER defeated ME. She never pinned ME to the canvas ONCE during that contest...in fact had she not picked the SCRAPS I LEFT of Liam Reily, then she wouldn't have won ANYTHING.
"But, now is not the time for shoulda, coulda, wouldas. It's is time to re-focus...Lord knows I need to. A lot has been on my mind since I failed to win the Scars cup at BF. TOO much, to be honest. Enough to avert my attention from my recent opponents, and I have paid for such aversion with decisive losses to Brian Stryker and Dante Daevian, respectively.
"I deserved those losses; I shouldve better prepared myself in the coming days leading up to those contests. Am I happy about those losses? HELL NO! In my mind, I outclass BOTH of them, so the fact that they bested me drives me CRAZY...and there it is there. I don't want this to drive me this insane any more! I can't keep letting myself get in my own way with my anger issues. All I want to say is this: I promise that I WILL make it a mission of mine to avenge those losses to Dante AND Stryker...AND Konstantine. Trust and believe, this isn't over. And YOU WILL see me in the near future.
"But, this isn't about them at all, right now. This is about a man who seems to want to bring the worst out of me, for some odd reason or another: Sjin Drako...
"SO, you want to bring out the maddness, huh? It surely seems that way. Misery loves company, and you seem to be a lonely son of a bitch. I don't know what you issues are with me as of yet, Drake...but you have made a serious mistake in sticking your nose into MY world.
"I had no beef with you. At ALL. I don't even know when you became relevant in the first place. NOR do I understand what it is exactly thast I did to you to make you lash out at me in the manner you did. But, you seem to know more about me than I like for you to know. Evidence of that is how you savagely attacked my bad knee a few weeks back. Normal gameplan for most, sure, but the fact you knew which one to go after gives me all I need to know to come to the conclusion that you have been...watching me.
"I see you now, Drake...and I am coming for YOU now. Congratulations, you have made an enemy. Me....
"Fuck this sanctioned match bullshit; Drako, you tried to injure me, for NO REASON whatsoever. You have violated my sense of security, and for that you must be exfoiliated. And At Slamathon, Sjin, I will do more than that. I will see to it that you never try this again with ANYONE else. I will see to it that you remember your erroneous transgressions from past times with a token of our encounter. Be that a broken nose, back, leg, et cetera, I WILL SEE TO IT THAT YOU ARE PUNISHED FOR THIS!!!
"There are PENALTIES for crossing lines that you crossed, Drako. Every action has it's reaction, and buddy, the reaction you are going to recieve on Sunday will pale in comparison to ANY evil, nasty and sinister thing you have ever had the oppurtunity to brag about to the hordes of mindless drones that even take the TIME to acknowledge you. I hate to take a cliche route here, but....Drake, it's fucking ON!
"Corniness aside, you have stepped on my toes for the first and the LAST time, Drako. And it's obvious that I am in you head; otherwise, you wouldn't have dropped a hotly contested match to Brytain Montgomery due to the mere fact that my MUSIC hit. And regardless if I am in your head or not, it doesn't matter. Come Sunday, your head will be ROLLING. Bouncing off the canvas, and rolling the FUCK away.
I can't wait to see you on Sunday, Sjin Drako. I am going to split your face...wiiiiide open.
*END TRANSMISSION*
