| Humanity | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Dec 29 2016, 07:58 PM (39 Views) | |
| Seth Iser | Dec 29 2016, 07:58 PM Post #1 |
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The busy nature of Vegas is one that always incompasses a very busy atmosphere. The lights going off everywhere with all of the casinos fully busy with passing people and some show girls showing their talents. It is an atmosphere not unfamiliar for the silver haired, silver suited, silver fox known as Vincent Moretti nor his menacing client donning the blue jeans and a black faded t-shirt in Seth Iser. The scars and the early grey in Iser’s hair give sign to the experience and trauma’s he has indeed experienced in his life. “Even Vegas has a nip in the air…” Vincent mutters as he taps at his phone intently. “It hasn’t changed since last we were here…” Iser lowly replies wiping as he has his hand on his chin in thought, “But it’s still not a place I’d ever take my daughter like many irresponsible parents tend to do here.” Iser’s face is etched in disgust as he slouches his back on an elder building in an area of town that is significantly less ‘presentable’ than the flamboyant casinos that you see. And Seth just scans through this almost as if he’s remembering things, not all pleasant and he just tilts his head to the side and the moment he looks at Moretti, Moretti feels that piercing glare and returns eye contact. “I’ve just hit thirty-six years of age when many people growing up thought I wouldn’t make it to twenty…” Iser blinks, “And I’ve never sensed the amount of hopelessness that I do now in this country with how the world is. You have to feel that to elect a damn conman to the position of president. And now I have to worry about the safety of my own kid in school because of all the hideous people that came out of the woodwork thinking that they’ve had their xenophobia and sexism normalized...” “Don’t remind me of that…” Vincent winces while clutching at his heart, “People are stupid.” “They naturally are. The nature of people now are too damn weak to think for themselves and too desperate to research the pitfalls. They’re angry but they don’t know how to USE it.” Iser shrugs, “Nobody is taught to question but rather taught to be indoctrinated. It’s a pitfall I’ll make sure my little girl never falls into. Iser lets out a sigh in his own thoughts as you can see his cold breath on this miserable December evening. Some of the others that are walking around away from them are shivering, not used to this weather but the Morgantown, West Virginia native is sweating a little perhaps from his mood rather than the weather. “It could always be worse…” Vincent half cackles, “We could be on a drug benge like we were when you were younger.” “Don’t remind me of that or detox, Vincent.” “I guess that’s another part of human nature.” Vincent lets that statement out before letting out a chuckle while Iser just cringes as certain other memories begin to pop up to the forefront. While all of that is going on he just hears a loud conversation off into the distance and Iser darts his eyes to the right for a brief second as if he’s trying to focus on it for a second before he shakes his head deciding it to be unimportant for now. “Some people talk…I prefer to listen in the distance sometimes and watch. It’s another thing experience has taught. See the entire board and anticipate moves in your life so you can prepare for the worst.” Iser shrugs. “In a world where it almost seems more intuitive to shout the loudest and scream the most ridiculous thing to get news these days?” Vincent smirks before coughing up a laugh, “Why do you think girls go onto things like Girl’s Gone Wild or the news just covers the most ridiculous thing they can find rather than tell the truth.” “The disgusting part of humanity is fascinating when you feel normal, Vincent.” “Huh…” Vincent raises his eyebrow shocked, “That might explain why those same weak people throw trash at us.” “Human nature is one part mysterious and one part disgusting” Iser beings to coldly mutter aloud, “Because we’re never a group of people that ever learn from history. In the world history’s mistakes are often repeated...until they’ve lost their power and can no longer make that same mistake. The people who are compulsive gamblers don’t learn their lesson there, either until they lose it all.” “Shit…” Vincent reaches into his pocket, “Should we just start while you're rolling? Think everyone'd like to hear this.” “Hm?” Iser raises his eyebrow, “I was just making conversation...since it’s legitimately a concern in the world of mine but...suit yourself.” Vincent reaches into his pocket and pulls out a sparkly new phone that he can use to record any message he wants visually. Iser just glares down at it for a second before letting out a sigh before he keeps his back leaning to the building as a cold gust of wind makes his hair sway with it. He just has his eyes closed for a brief second as if he’s thinking about exactly what to say...before he opens them and the menace in his blue eyes are just unmistakable. “When I reached the age of thirty-six that means that at the beginning of the year I will have reached my sixteenth year as an active competitor in our sport of wrestling. And I’ve seen both seen and done quite a bit all over the world. Seen so much gore and bloodshed that a kid in college would actually be triggered instead of playing that card to protect their idiotic ideas.” Iser trails off for a second blinking his eyes in thought, “I’ve seen quite a bit of suffering and agony all over the world...no different to my own growing up as a kid. Families torn apart because of our profession that you thought would be bonded forever.” Iser’s tone gets colder and more stern as he just glares at the camera with his eyes. “I’ve even seen grown men die in our ring in the middle of combat.” There isn’t any hint of joy in what Iser is saying as he is remembering that day. He could probably still hear the last time that man hit the canvas all in his brain as he just tilts his head, no doubt hiding his actual feelings on the matter. “But I still remember a time...a glorious time, where the sport of professional wrestling was indeed that, a true sport. And many times...there were issues and instead of complaining about how their parents made them the way they are to justify whatever self destructive activity they want to get into or going onto twitter to vent and complain about every little thing. You know how we often settled those things?” Iser’s eyebrow raises up as a vein in his neck appears from the intensity he’s conjuring up from the question he just asked. Despite the cold weather it’s almost as if he’s sweating from being agitated at the state of wrestling itself. “In that ring. And instead of a formal contract...the issue of seeing my employment here isn’t going through lawyers...but rather what we can do in the ring…” Iser barks up a chuckle but he isn’t laughing because it’s funny. “For the first time since my youth I’m truly fighting for survival and for the next paycheck. How wrestling SHOULD be…” Iser pauses here for a second, “Not what it is where you’re networking for friends...or to try to be in a relationship. For work...for survival.” Iser’s eyes light up a little when he speaks the next two words. “For championships…” Iser nods his head and he glances back at the busier section of Vegas before he begins walking in the darker, muddier section of the city. “I won’t get ahead of myself on that last one...but I truly don’t think people’s priorities are in order in our sport anymore. They get lost in the glitz and glamor out there, just like many people here in Sin City. And God knows how much debauchery a human being has gone through here when I’ve partaken in plenty of my own in my youth...but many of us fall into certain traps in the wrestling business...to keep us from achieving what someone would expect of our talent level…” Iser calmly points at the camera after saying that though the intensity in his eyes hasn’t wavered. “And this also applies to those who are naive and wide-eyed with no experience. So listen real close young Rey Gonzales.” Iser just points out to the scenery where trash is everywhere and you can now see a tattered adult male with holes in his clothing and dirt smudged on his face coming in rummaging for survival. He doesn’t notice the larger man pointing at him as he’s more focused just on living for the next day. “That’ll be you if you take too naive of an approach in this industry.” With that haunting statement Iser just pauses for a minute as we get a focused shot of him glaring down with every bit of intensity. “This isn’t an old wrestler telling a tale. It’s an experienced wrestler living in the here and now with the knowledge of how things work. You’re a young guy looking to have a good time. And many good times are had in this profession. Even more if you last a little bit and are good at what we do. But those are often the wrestlers that are the what might have beens. When you go out there looking for the approval of peers and masses now...you only get yourself into trouble later and considering the cartels down south with the president this ignorant country just elected...you can ill afford to waste this opportunity.” The man that Iser had pointed out had begun to rustle through someone’s garbage hoping for a meal. The sight doesn’t even register to Iser as if he’s seen it far too often. “Phoenix Wrestling has a tournament going on that calls for an Iron King...a bunch of street fights. We might not be in that tournament Rey but you have to ask yourself when the day comes in the Luxor Casino what the hell is going to happen to me knowing full well that this man has both the experience of the streets and sixteen years in our wonderful sport of professional wrestling with the knowledge of how to bend and break rules.” Iser’s tone turns very cold. It’s low but not lacking intensity. “And boy...I guarantee you that you’re not going to be man enough or wrestler enough to defeat me in the middle of that ring. All those people filing in are going to have to prepare for a disappointment when a young bright kid who they’d want to like won’t be victorious and they’ll have to deal with something that they haven’t known what to handle in this sport for sixteen damn years.” Iser then just cracks his neck and glares down. “It’ll be the most dangerous experience of your life. You’ll think you were in there with a monster…” Iser shakes his head after that last sentence. “But no...you were in there with something more dangerous. The very thing that creates ‘monsters’...you’ll be in there with a dangerous human being with the intent to survive. And there’s not a damn thing you can do about it…” Word Count: 1943 |
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4:27 PM Jul 10