| Patience | |
|---|---|
| Tweet Topic Started: May 20 2016, 07:32 AM (31 Views) | |
| Michael Draven | May 20 2016, 07:32 AM Post #1 |
![]()
EWA Minority Owner
|
all we need is a little patience -axel rose Wednesday, May 18, 2016 7:49 PM Michael Draven's Duplex - Boston, MA He sits on the couch in his darkened living room, watching the footage. Maggie is gone. She left for Albany, a quick overnight trip to pick up some things from her cousin's house. A promise to return tomorrow. She's moving in. He is as happy as he could ever remember. He is as miserable as he could ever remember. He hits play on the remote, once again. EWA Asylum de los Muertos March 31, 2016 MM: DOWNFALL! VA: NO!! MM: Michael Draven is about to get his first ever pinfall on Alexander Haven! ONE! TWO! Draven pulls Haven's shoulders off the mat! VA: You idiot! What are you doing?! MM: Perhaps a mistake here by Michael Draven, but he clearly wants to draw out the punishment he plans to inflict on Alexander Haven! REWIND Draven pulls Haven's shoulders off the mat! VA: You idiot! What are you doing?! REWIND VA: You idiot! What are you doing?! MM: Perhaps a mistake here by Michael Draven, but he clearly wants to draw out the punishment he plans to inflict on Alexander Haven! REWIND MM: Perhaps a mistake here by Michael Draven REWIND MM: mistake here The audio from Asylum de los Muertos is interrupted by the sound of his cell phone ringing. He looks down. Stacy Vandervort. He places the phone on speaker, not even bothering to pause the television. "It's Michael." "Hey Michael, it's Stacy. I won't take up too much of your time. Still here at the office, but I just wanted to let you know we've received the signed contracts from both Jurgen Johanssen and Martin Robertson for your matches at Path of the Warrior." I shouldn't be fighting either of them. I should be fighting -- "Also, I wanted to apologize." "For what?" His voice portrays a tone of concern. In reality, he just wants her off the phone. He pauses the television, listening to her babble on. "Just...I'm working on finding a way around Haven's right of refusal clause. Gates knew what he was doing when he put the damn thing in Haven's contract. It's air-tight. There has to be a loophole somehow, though...I'll keep digging. But I wanted to say I'm sorry that I couldn't find it before last night." Bullshit you are. "Stacy, it's not your fault at all. Don't worry about it - I'm not. He'll fight me soon enough. He can't hold out forever." "Thanks, Michael. I'll let you get back to your evening. Tell Maggie I said hello." I won't. She'll never hear a word about this conversation. "I will. Have a good night, Stacy." He lets Stacy disconnect the phone, not bothering to reach for it himself. He stares at the same image that's been paused on the television for the last few moments. Alexander Haven, holding him on his shoulders in position for the Fall From Glory. The most recent in a long, long line of times he's been in that very position. Haven pinned him after this move at Asylum. The look on his face right now says he knows he's going to win. It's the smirk, really...the way the smile doesn't quite reach his eyes. That smirk. That fucking smirk. He grabs the cell phone, heaving it against the wall as hard as he can. A small indentation appears in the wall at the mark where the phone collides with it. The phone shatters into pieces. He roars to his feet, tipping over the glass coffee table in front of him, sending the assorted items on it flying across the room. Next, he crosses to the television, grabbing the lamp on the stand beside it. He swings the lamp as hard as he can, connecting squarely with the face of his hated rival - and sending sparks flying from the shattered television screen. He grabs the TV, launching it halfway across the room, before collapsing in a heap of his own sweat and tears. He doesn't wipe them away. He will remember this moment when he sees Haven again. It will fuel him for the war to come. War is coming for Alexander Haven, sooner or later. Whether he likes it or not. For now, his aggressions will be taken out on Haven's puppet. And then, on Kilminster's. The tears flow freely, as does the blood from a cut that's appeared on his forearm. The war will come. All he needs is a little patience. Thursday, May 19, 2016 3:12 PM Michael Draven's Duplex - Boston, MA "Hey Mike, I'm home! Whoa -- that's kinda weird to say. Anyways, can you help me with the--whoa holy shit--" Maggie McIntyre's train of thought is interrupted by the sight of the massive 70" TV, now positioned in the corner of the living room. A new glass coffee table had been purchased as well. Her boyfriend rises to his feet from the couch, crossing the room to kiss her on the cheek. "A new TV? New table? You've been busy." "Felt like changing things up a bit. The table is for you. I thought you might like it...consider it a housewarming gift?" She smiles up at him, grabbing him in a hug. "I missed you, Mike." It's getting way too easy to lie to her. |
![]() |
|
| 1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous) | |
| « Previous Topic · The Warrior's Den · Next Topic » |








10:52 AM Jul 11