Post by Storm on Aug 3, 2010 10:49:31 GMT -5
SLURP[/b]
Storm unceremoniously sips on the can of Diet Mountain Dew in his hand, a clear contrast from the water he usually favors. He is sitting in the arm chair of what appears to be a living room and facing the a TV on a simple wooden table, though the TV is off. Though slumped back into the chair, Storm is anything but relaxed; in fact, it looks as if all of his muscles are tensed up and he’s grinding himself back into the cushioning.
Storm takes another sip and shifts a bit in the chair, his blue jeans rustling and his plain gray shirt bunching up behind him. He turns his head and glances at the stacks of boxes in the corner of the room and groans before straightening back up and nursing his soda again.
On cue, the front door to the small-but-comfortable apartment swings open. As the unwelcomed sunlight washes over Storm’s face and causes him to squint painfully, Daniel Boneham Stanton enters the apartment lugging a cooler in his right hand. Closing the door behind him with his free arm, he sets the cooler down and straightens out his light blue collared shirt and brown Dockers and adjusts his signature cowboy hat. He looks around the room, eyeing the boxes and the turned-off TV and whistles before his eyes fall upon Storm as he seems to notice him for the first time.
”Brought ya a house warmin’ gift, partner,” Stanton says warmly as he hoists the cooler up off of the gray carpet and pops it open, revealing a six pack of Blue Moon beer. He saunters over to the small dinner table shoved in another corner of the room and plops the cooler down on a box that sits atop the table. Snapping the lid to the cooler shut, he turns back around to Storm, who has not moved other than to turn his neck to track Stanton’s motion across the room.
”Oh, come on hoss…don’t tell me you’re gonna be all moody with me because of…”
”Don’t say a word,” Storm says sternly, cutting Stanton off mid-sentence as he uses his free arm to absent-mindedly rub his jaw where Chris Hart’s superkick had connected at Return of the Kingdom.
Stanton regards his friend with a look of concern, shifting his mouth to the side as he considers how to tackle the situation. He takes a few steps forward, approaching a Storm who is still looking at him intensely.
”Look man, you went for almost 50 minutes in that match after already going through 7 other men for over 20 minutes in that Battlle Royale. You were straight up super human out there, and ain’t nobody gonna think less of you for goin’ down to that Nancy-boy Chris Hart after all o’ that,” Stanton cays calmly and as comforting as he can manage, clearly actually meaning well for once rather than his usual enthusiastic ribbing of his friend.
”Of course no one will think less of me,” Storm says as he deliberately turns his head away from Stanton and looks straight forward again. ”Everyone expected me to choke at the last minute to begin with,” Storm says with a sudden rage, his voice rising. The muscles of his right arm tighten as he squeezes the can of Diet Mountain Dew in his hand, crushing it beneath the pressure and causing a bit of the artificially sweet liquid to seep out and drop down the side of the chair and onto the carpet.
”Damn it Storm, you didn’t choke!” Stanton suddenly yells as he takes a large step forward, surprised with himself that he uttered the hated word in front of his friend. ”You did better than anyone thought you would - you God damn DOMINATED that match - and no one can expect a man to go through that much in one night and come out on top,” he concludes passionately with just the right intonation to show compassion but not pity. Storm doesn’t seem to see it that way as he grinds the now mangled can even harder into his fist, causing it to deform more. It finally gives completely and nearly crumbles in half, but as it does so a piece of jagged aluminum cuts across Storm’s hand, nicking his thumb. Storm winces, dropping the can in surprise as if realizing his own mortality, and looks to his hand in a surreal shock as he watches a drop of blood pool up on his flesh.
” “I did,” Storm replied weakly.
”And so did I,” Stanton says with a sigh, likely trying to prevent Storm from suddenly snapping to and realizing that Stanton was talking about himself as much as anyone else. ”But,” he continued, ”that’s because we both know that you’re no ordinary man. We know how hard you work and how far you can push yourself. But come on, Storm, what you did WAS above and beyond an ordinary man. Be proud damn it, because you turned heads!”
”Is that why I’m getting a fair, one-on-one rematch against Hart this week?” Storm asks sarcastically but without much conviction, letting the can slide out of his hand and land on the floor amidst the puddle of soda as he continues to inquisitively eye his open wound.
Stanton seems to miss the sarcasm.
”What?” he asks. ”Unless they changed the card, they’ve got you against Noble’s kid brother.”
Storm dramatically shifts his eyes toward Stanton and away from his still bleeding finger, a deadpan expression showing as Stanton realizes his goof and silently mouths “Oh.”
”That’s my point, Dan,” Storm says disappointedly as he raises his thumb to eyelevel and examines it from a different angle. ”Just like that, I fell JUST short of my goal and I’m back to square one. I mean…Kurt’s in charge of this place, right? I’m sure he had a say in the match, and he’s giving me his little brother. He must not even see me as dangerous if he’s going to put his inexperienced family member in the ring with me.
Stanton looks to Storm for a moment, trying to catch his attention – the downtrodden competitor seems far too intrigued with the wound he inadvertently caused to himself, however. Giving up on making eye contact, Stanton speaks. ”I don’t think it’s quite like that. I know you were probably busy doin’ your thing gettin’ ready for Return of the Kingdom, but from what I’ve seen they ain’t that close to begin with. That, and I think Kurt’s probably trying to get Johnny to prove he can keep up. Sink or swim, you know?”
”Sink or swim…” Storm trails off as he narrows his eyes and brings his index finger up to his thumb and begins rubbing his blood between the two fingers. Stanton sees this and arches an eyebrow as he continues to observe his friend’s odd behavior.
”Oh, stupid Kurt,” Storm says as he brings his fingers to his nose and takes a deep whiff. Eerily calmly, Storm adds, ”Doesn’t he know there are sharks in the water?
Storm unceremoniously sips on the can of Diet Mountain Dew in his hand, a clear contrast from the water he usually favors. He is sitting in the arm chair of what appears to be a living room and facing the a TV on a simple wooden table, though the TV is off. Though slumped back into the chair, Storm is anything but relaxed; in fact, it looks as if all of his muscles are tensed up and he’s grinding himself back into the cushioning.
Storm takes another sip and shifts a bit in the chair, his blue jeans rustling and his plain gray shirt bunching up behind him. He turns his head and glances at the stacks of boxes in the corner of the room and groans before straightening back up and nursing his soda again.
On cue, the front door to the small-but-comfortable apartment swings open. As the unwelcomed sunlight washes over Storm’s face and causes him to squint painfully, Daniel Boneham Stanton enters the apartment lugging a cooler in his right hand. Closing the door behind him with his free arm, he sets the cooler down and straightens out his light blue collared shirt and brown Dockers and adjusts his signature cowboy hat. He looks around the room, eyeing the boxes and the turned-off TV and whistles before his eyes fall upon Storm as he seems to notice him for the first time.
”Brought ya a house warmin’ gift, partner,” Stanton says warmly as he hoists the cooler up off of the gray carpet and pops it open, revealing a six pack of Blue Moon beer. He saunters over to the small dinner table shoved in another corner of the room and plops the cooler down on a box that sits atop the table. Snapping the lid to the cooler shut, he turns back around to Storm, who has not moved other than to turn his neck to track Stanton’s motion across the room.
”Oh, come on hoss…don’t tell me you’re gonna be all moody with me because of…”
”Don’t say a word,” Storm says sternly, cutting Stanton off mid-sentence as he uses his free arm to absent-mindedly rub his jaw where Chris Hart’s superkick had connected at Return of the Kingdom.
Stanton regards his friend with a look of concern, shifting his mouth to the side as he considers how to tackle the situation. He takes a few steps forward, approaching a Storm who is still looking at him intensely.
”Look man, you went for almost 50 minutes in that match after already going through 7 other men for over 20 minutes in that Battlle Royale. You were straight up super human out there, and ain’t nobody gonna think less of you for goin’ down to that Nancy-boy Chris Hart after all o’ that,” Stanton cays calmly and as comforting as he can manage, clearly actually meaning well for once rather than his usual enthusiastic ribbing of his friend.
”Of course no one will think less of me,” Storm says as he deliberately turns his head away from Stanton and looks straight forward again. ”Everyone expected me to choke at the last minute to begin with,” Storm says with a sudden rage, his voice rising. The muscles of his right arm tighten as he squeezes the can of Diet Mountain Dew in his hand, crushing it beneath the pressure and causing a bit of the artificially sweet liquid to seep out and drop down the side of the chair and onto the carpet.
”Damn it Storm, you didn’t choke!” Stanton suddenly yells as he takes a large step forward, surprised with himself that he uttered the hated word in front of his friend. ”You did better than anyone thought you would - you God damn DOMINATED that match - and no one can expect a man to go through that much in one night and come out on top,” he concludes passionately with just the right intonation to show compassion but not pity. Storm doesn’t seem to see it that way as he grinds the now mangled can even harder into his fist, causing it to deform more. It finally gives completely and nearly crumbles in half, but as it does so a piece of jagged aluminum cuts across Storm’s hand, nicking his thumb. Storm winces, dropping the can in surprise as if realizing his own mortality, and looks to his hand in a surreal shock as he watches a drop of blood pool up on his flesh.
” “I did,” Storm replied weakly.
”And so did I,” Stanton says with a sigh, likely trying to prevent Storm from suddenly snapping to and realizing that Stanton was talking about himself as much as anyone else. ”But,” he continued, ”that’s because we both know that you’re no ordinary man. We know how hard you work and how far you can push yourself. But come on, Storm, what you did WAS above and beyond an ordinary man. Be proud damn it, because you turned heads!”
”Is that why I’m getting a fair, one-on-one rematch against Hart this week?” Storm asks sarcastically but without much conviction, letting the can slide out of his hand and land on the floor amidst the puddle of soda as he continues to inquisitively eye his open wound.
Stanton seems to miss the sarcasm.
”What?” he asks. ”Unless they changed the card, they’ve got you against Noble’s kid brother.”
Storm dramatically shifts his eyes toward Stanton and away from his still bleeding finger, a deadpan expression showing as Stanton realizes his goof and silently mouths “Oh.”
”That’s my point, Dan,” Storm says disappointedly as he raises his thumb to eyelevel and examines it from a different angle. ”Just like that, I fell JUST short of my goal and I’m back to square one. I mean…Kurt’s in charge of this place, right? I’m sure he had a say in the match, and he’s giving me his little brother. He must not even see me as dangerous if he’s going to put his inexperienced family member in the ring with me.
Stanton looks to Storm for a moment, trying to catch his attention – the downtrodden competitor seems far too intrigued with the wound he inadvertently caused to himself, however. Giving up on making eye contact, Stanton speaks. ”I don’t think it’s quite like that. I know you were probably busy doin’ your thing gettin’ ready for Return of the Kingdom, but from what I’ve seen they ain’t that close to begin with. That, and I think Kurt’s probably trying to get Johnny to prove he can keep up. Sink or swim, you know?”
”Sink or swim…” Storm trails off as he narrows his eyes and brings his index finger up to his thumb and begins rubbing his blood between the two fingers. Stanton sees this and arches an eyebrow as he continues to observe his friend’s odd behavior.
”Oh, stupid Kurt,” Storm says as he brings his fingers to his nose and takes a deep whiff. Eerily calmly, Storm adds, ”Doesn’t he know there are sharks in the water?
