Post by Mr. C on Mar 22, 2009 22:28:04 GMT -5
(The following RP was not what I originally planned to put up, but as the night progressed so did the idea for this piece. Everything said below is, of course, "in character". Meaning not so much that they are Brett's words, as he himself is not saying them directly. Nor are they my words. Instead, the following is a scene of "what if" dreamed by Brett Cross on his trip to find and vanquish his father Oleg.)
With hands folded neatly together atop a large pine desk, Cross beamed his brightest smile. The hair that’s usually matted, knotty and unruly was combed through, pulled back in to a tight ponytail behind his head. And the whiskers at his chin were combed through, too, and braided tightly. His torso was no longer bare, but instead clothed in a very expensive looking Armani suit of black and gold. The tie and trim of his jacket matched his hair perfectly as he continued to grin. The desk he sat behind was neatly organized, with various executive looking papers stacked at the side. As for the chair he sat in, it was a large leather seat, a comfy looking antique. He was a mockingly impressive display of superiority and professionalism. The entire scene was ridiculous; the man was once a ruthless seafaring warrior. A man normally known for blades and tights now was clothed in a business suit and working a desk job. After a few more moments of cheesy, professional smiling he picked up one of the papers he had on his desk, and from the inside pocket of his jacket retrieved a monocle. Placing it up to his one eye, he looked over the paper and then spoke. His speech was no longer thick and Norse, it instead rolled off the tongue quite posh, quite educated.
“As chairman to the board of EUW, it’s been brought to my attention there is some general unrest within the company. It saddens me to hear such things, so I will attempt to lay them to rest. Well, in honesty, I will probably just piss more people off. But if others feel the need to express themselves in a way that breaks the fourth wall, destroys canon and is downright preposterous and ridiculous, then why can’t I?”
Cross cleared his throat and glanced over the print once more before continuing.
“The EUW, as claimed by certain EUW superstars, has lost its shine. It’s now, and I’m quoting directly, “controlled by crying, egotistical veterans that expect things to play out their way.” Assuming I am one of those veterans this superstar speaks of, it hurts quite a bit to hear such harsh words and I can only wonder from whence they came. Because as far as I understand… things have always been playing out my way! I’m the chairman of the board to EUW, just one step below the Commissioner himself, and, what’s more I am the bloody Pure Champion as well!”
Reaching in to a draw at his desk, Cross grabbed something inside and drew it in to view, the EUW Pure Title. He smiled and brought it to his face before planting an exaggerated kiss on the golden emblems.
“To say things don’t go the way they should for us egotistical veterans is nonsense, and to say we have anything to cry about is complete rubbish. Look at us, we couldn’t be better! Lincoln’s got a world title shot and I’m already a champion, and I’m allowed to go around and beat up whomever the hell I want without fear of repercussions! I mean, you would know Sabora! …Oh shit, did I say Sabora? I was trying to keep your name a secret and just call you the disgruntled employee so that my tongue-in-cheek jabs wouldn’t offend you but, hey, who was I kidding anyway? You knew I was talking about you, just as you knew I’d know you knew I knew you were talking about me. Really, we both knew. Anywho, as I was saying. You should know, Sabora. You said yourself that you’ve retired twice, and you always demand so much “honor and respect” you must consider yourself a veteran too. I mean, really, building up that resume with fake past jobs like “UFC” fighting. I don’t even know what that is!”
Mr. Brett Cross placed the title down on the desk in front of him, upside down as it faced forward. For, he was just a big dumb Viking anyway, so he couldn’t tell if the words were upside down or not. How the front office was convinced to hire this guy and promote him so far was beyond everyone else’s limits of understanding but regardless here he sits, stupidly smiling away.
“But I digress. This isn’t about me slamming you, no not at all. For you see, you have already done that. No, I’m merely speaking in the few moments I have before MNS without putting much real thought in to it. Oh wait, you did that too. Then I guess I’m just speaking about how sad I am without any real point other than speaking before MNS occurs. Damn, you did that, too, didn’t you? Well, no matter. I’m the chairman here. I can do as I please week in and week out and still win with ease to boot. But, really. I truly am saddened that I am not respected by you, Sabora. Especially after how many times I’ve beaten your ass. Of course, it was just me throwing my staff powers about that got me those victories. But, I thought you’d be able to respect that, too. Seeing as well, you know, you have no power at all. You didn’t before as a puss of a family man, and you don’t now as Xplode’s right-hand man, if you get what I mean.
And as I continued to read over this recap of your statement to the EUW about MNS, I just found more and more and more that showed your anger, your displeasure with the EUW. As chairman, it’s my job to notice you’re quite obviously none too pleased, but to also not give a damn. You’re obviously upset over nothing else than the fact that everyone is better than you. It’s too bad you came here for competition as you claim because week in and week out you get your ass beat. As you’ve said, I have control over everything that goes on here, and despite there being four other men that can sway the goings on in EUW, I make the final decisions. We all know you’re talentless to begin with, but we don’t blame your inabilities. We will instead blame the guy who “makes all the decisions”, even if that statement is pure rubbish. Right Sabora? Either way, we’ll stick with it for a time. Let’s assume I do make all the decisions, then why do you lose so much? Oh, that’s right, because I’m a prick and a bastard! I go out of my way to put people down, just because I can. Haha, sure fooled you, didn’t I? The disclaimer was in such small fine print when you signed up for this joint, but it was there. “Beware of one staff member who makes all the decisions despite the appearance of a fair democracy and him not being anywhere close to powerful enough to do what people claim he does.””
Cross picked up a second paper and this one was an EUW contract. He pointed to the fine print at the bottom and brought his monocle over it. There it was, plain as day, fine print stating that Cross has more power than the Commissioner and all of the staff combined, and does what he wants, when he wants, at the expense of everyone else in the business.
“It’s too bad, really. Well, for you. That I always get to win, and keep winning. Because, quite obviously, I do not work hard and everyone else does. My pages long epics on my Viking adventures can be pieced together in two seconds. Your nonsensical canon breaking shoot promo? You obviously grueled over that for quite some time, Sabora. You should be proud…You should be proud for certain. Your point has been made, I’m a bad man and you’re an overlooked individual who clearly busts his ass every week. And, your point about not respecting me? That’s fine, too. Because, as you try and make ample clear, it should always be the other way around. Everyone should respect you. You’re the king, and we are your servants in your mind. Too bad it has been and always will be the opposite. I run this business and as long as you continue bitching, I’ll continue pushing myself to the top. And Vincent? It’s too bad you couldn’t be part of all of this petty bickering. But I’m sure you don’t much mind. Sabora made it ample clear that he does not care to face me because no matter what he does, I will just use my office position to beat him. He doesn’t want to try against either of us because he’ll surely loose regardless of what he puts out. Because, you know, all the skill he brags about keeps him from just, you know, actually beating me. It’s what I don’t understand. If everything is set before hand, but you don’t agree with it… why stick to the script? I mean, really, if you are already going to ramble on about facts that do not fit canon and brutalize the story of your character, what harm would that do? In closing, just think about what you’re saying and… enjoy losing at MNS. Because, apparently, I have the power to decide that. It has nothing to do with you not bothering this week and even stating that you aren't going to bother. It's just me being the douche that I am.”
Cross beamed out his smile again and placed his feet up on to the desk and rocked back in to his chair, and as he did the whole thing toppled over backwards and Cross fell in to a heap.
When he awoke, he was on the deck of his Viking longboat. No longer was he dressed as a chairman, he was once again in his Viking get up. Hammer laughed loudly and wiped the sweat from his brow before standing.
“Ach, what an odd dream! T’is what this much time at sea’ll do to ye.”
With hands folded neatly together atop a large pine desk, Cross beamed his brightest smile. The hair that’s usually matted, knotty and unruly was combed through, pulled back in to a tight ponytail behind his head. And the whiskers at his chin were combed through, too, and braided tightly. His torso was no longer bare, but instead clothed in a very expensive looking Armani suit of black and gold. The tie and trim of his jacket matched his hair perfectly as he continued to grin. The desk he sat behind was neatly organized, with various executive looking papers stacked at the side. As for the chair he sat in, it was a large leather seat, a comfy looking antique. He was a mockingly impressive display of superiority and professionalism. The entire scene was ridiculous; the man was once a ruthless seafaring warrior. A man normally known for blades and tights now was clothed in a business suit and working a desk job. After a few more moments of cheesy, professional smiling he picked up one of the papers he had on his desk, and from the inside pocket of his jacket retrieved a monocle. Placing it up to his one eye, he looked over the paper and then spoke. His speech was no longer thick and Norse, it instead rolled off the tongue quite posh, quite educated.
“As chairman to the board of EUW, it’s been brought to my attention there is some general unrest within the company. It saddens me to hear such things, so I will attempt to lay them to rest. Well, in honesty, I will probably just piss more people off. But if others feel the need to express themselves in a way that breaks the fourth wall, destroys canon and is downright preposterous and ridiculous, then why can’t I?”
Cross cleared his throat and glanced over the print once more before continuing.
“The EUW, as claimed by certain EUW superstars, has lost its shine. It’s now, and I’m quoting directly, “controlled by crying, egotistical veterans that expect things to play out their way.” Assuming I am one of those veterans this superstar speaks of, it hurts quite a bit to hear such harsh words and I can only wonder from whence they came. Because as far as I understand… things have always been playing out my way! I’m the chairman of the board to EUW, just one step below the Commissioner himself, and, what’s more I am the bloody Pure Champion as well!”
Reaching in to a draw at his desk, Cross grabbed something inside and drew it in to view, the EUW Pure Title. He smiled and brought it to his face before planting an exaggerated kiss on the golden emblems.
“To say things don’t go the way they should for us egotistical veterans is nonsense, and to say we have anything to cry about is complete rubbish. Look at us, we couldn’t be better! Lincoln’s got a world title shot and I’m already a champion, and I’m allowed to go around and beat up whomever the hell I want without fear of repercussions! I mean, you would know Sabora! …Oh shit, did I say Sabora? I was trying to keep your name a secret and just call you the disgruntled employee so that my tongue-in-cheek jabs wouldn’t offend you but, hey, who was I kidding anyway? You knew I was talking about you, just as you knew I’d know you knew I knew you were talking about me. Really, we both knew. Anywho, as I was saying. You should know, Sabora. You said yourself that you’ve retired twice, and you always demand so much “honor and respect” you must consider yourself a veteran too. I mean, really, building up that resume with fake past jobs like “UFC” fighting. I don’t even know what that is!”
Mr. Brett Cross placed the title down on the desk in front of him, upside down as it faced forward. For, he was just a big dumb Viking anyway, so he couldn’t tell if the words were upside down or not. How the front office was convinced to hire this guy and promote him so far was beyond everyone else’s limits of understanding but regardless here he sits, stupidly smiling away.
“But I digress. This isn’t about me slamming you, no not at all. For you see, you have already done that. No, I’m merely speaking in the few moments I have before MNS without putting much real thought in to it. Oh wait, you did that too. Then I guess I’m just speaking about how sad I am without any real point other than speaking before MNS occurs. Damn, you did that, too, didn’t you? Well, no matter. I’m the chairman here. I can do as I please week in and week out and still win with ease to boot. But, really. I truly am saddened that I am not respected by you, Sabora. Especially after how many times I’ve beaten your ass. Of course, it was just me throwing my staff powers about that got me those victories. But, I thought you’d be able to respect that, too. Seeing as well, you know, you have no power at all. You didn’t before as a puss of a family man, and you don’t now as Xplode’s right-hand man, if you get what I mean.
And as I continued to read over this recap of your statement to the EUW about MNS, I just found more and more and more that showed your anger, your displeasure with the EUW. As chairman, it’s my job to notice you’re quite obviously none too pleased, but to also not give a damn. You’re obviously upset over nothing else than the fact that everyone is better than you. It’s too bad you came here for competition as you claim because week in and week out you get your ass beat. As you’ve said, I have control over everything that goes on here, and despite there being four other men that can sway the goings on in EUW, I make the final decisions. We all know you’re talentless to begin with, but we don’t blame your inabilities. We will instead blame the guy who “makes all the decisions”, even if that statement is pure rubbish. Right Sabora? Either way, we’ll stick with it for a time. Let’s assume I do make all the decisions, then why do you lose so much? Oh, that’s right, because I’m a prick and a bastard! I go out of my way to put people down, just because I can. Haha, sure fooled you, didn’t I? The disclaimer was in such small fine print when you signed up for this joint, but it was there. “Beware of one staff member who makes all the decisions despite the appearance of a fair democracy and him not being anywhere close to powerful enough to do what people claim he does.””
Cross picked up a second paper and this one was an EUW contract. He pointed to the fine print at the bottom and brought his monocle over it. There it was, plain as day, fine print stating that Cross has more power than the Commissioner and all of the staff combined, and does what he wants, when he wants, at the expense of everyone else in the business.
“It’s too bad, really. Well, for you. That I always get to win, and keep winning. Because, quite obviously, I do not work hard and everyone else does. My pages long epics on my Viking adventures can be pieced together in two seconds. Your nonsensical canon breaking shoot promo? You obviously grueled over that for quite some time, Sabora. You should be proud…You should be proud for certain. Your point has been made, I’m a bad man and you’re an overlooked individual who clearly busts his ass every week. And, your point about not respecting me? That’s fine, too. Because, as you try and make ample clear, it should always be the other way around. Everyone should respect you. You’re the king, and we are your servants in your mind. Too bad it has been and always will be the opposite. I run this business and as long as you continue bitching, I’ll continue pushing myself to the top. And Vincent? It’s too bad you couldn’t be part of all of this petty bickering. But I’m sure you don’t much mind. Sabora made it ample clear that he does not care to face me because no matter what he does, I will just use my office position to beat him. He doesn’t want to try against either of us because he’ll surely loose regardless of what he puts out. Because, you know, all the skill he brags about keeps him from just, you know, actually beating me. It’s what I don’t understand. If everything is set before hand, but you don’t agree with it… why stick to the script? I mean, really, if you are already going to ramble on about facts that do not fit canon and brutalize the story of your character, what harm would that do? In closing, just think about what you’re saying and… enjoy losing at MNS. Because, apparently, I have the power to decide that. It has nothing to do with you not bothering this week and even stating that you aren't going to bother. It's just me being the douche that I am.”
Cross beamed out his smile again and placed his feet up on to the desk and rocked back in to his chair, and as he did the whole thing toppled over backwards and Cross fell in to a heap.
When he awoke, he was on the deck of his Viking longboat. No longer was he dressed as a chairman, he was once again in his Viking get up. Hammer laughed loudly and wiped the sweat from his brow before standing.
“Ach, what an odd dream! T’is what this much time at sea’ll do to ye.”