Post by Edgar_Whateley on Feb 2, 2017 0:35:20 GMT -5
Backstage “interview” - post Vindication, Feb 1st 2017
A GCW camera follows Whateley from the ring, where he’s just beaten Simon Cade and Aaron Black. He’s sweating, and looks a little sore, but he’s smiling - seeming pretty pleased with himself. His only acknowledgement of the camera trailing after him is a quick sideways glance, until they get backstage.
When they reach the locker room, Whateley switches off several lights, leaving one small lamp on so that he can see what he’s doing. With great care, he places his big book in it’s black felt cover, wraps it up, and sets it next to his bag - something that can only be described as “vintage” with its cracked and fading black leather. After taking care of the book, he fishes around in the gym bag for a bit and removes a small, black, cloth sack.
Heading to the centre of the room, Whateley shoves some chairs and boxes around to create a decent space in the centre. He unties the sash on the sack and begins to pour out the contents. It appears to be sand, or possibly salt of some kind. Turning slowly, he uses it to draw a large circle in the newly created space, and throws the now-empty sack towards his gym bag. Taking a seat in the centre, he also removes his boots and tosses them in the same general direction.
Taking a deep breath, he stretches his arms up and out, bringing them down by his side again as he exhales, and lays flat on his back in the circle, staring absently at the ceiling.
“I guess I was wrong.”
There’s a pause as the air seems to thicken. And it sounds like Edgar sighs a little.
“I failed to ascribe some cosmic meaning in advance of that match, but my… my was I wrong about that.”
He snaps back up to sit cross legged and looks into the camera lens, like he just realised it was there.
“Did you feel it?” He asks, looking bizarrely excited, and a little crazed.
“You must have felt it. Everyone would have. How could they not? That deep rumbling in the place behind the light.... behind your heart.... the place you want to visit but you're so scared of what you might find there. That place I've seen so often... the place where... Haha!! Oh yes, tonight was indeed a special night. Every epic, every myth, every saga… has a prologue. Tonight I know…
a new saga has begun. Darius - I’ll be seeing you soon. For now, I need to talk to some.. people.. about what’s going on.”
He breathes out deeply and the maniacal look on his face fades. Whateley closes his eyes and places his hands, upturned, on his lap, with his thumb and ring fingers held together. After another deep breath, he begins to speak. His voice is deep and droning but he speaks so fast it’s hard to catch any particular words. It doesn’t even sound like he’s speaking English.
Fade to black.
A GCW camera follows Whateley from the ring, where he’s just beaten Simon Cade and Aaron Black. He’s sweating, and looks a little sore, but he’s smiling - seeming pretty pleased with himself. His only acknowledgement of the camera trailing after him is a quick sideways glance, until they get backstage.
When they reach the locker room, Whateley switches off several lights, leaving one small lamp on so that he can see what he’s doing. With great care, he places his big book in it’s black felt cover, wraps it up, and sets it next to his bag - something that can only be described as “vintage” with its cracked and fading black leather. After taking care of the book, he fishes around in the gym bag for a bit and removes a small, black, cloth sack.
Heading to the centre of the room, Whateley shoves some chairs and boxes around to create a decent space in the centre. He unties the sash on the sack and begins to pour out the contents. It appears to be sand, or possibly salt of some kind. Turning slowly, he uses it to draw a large circle in the newly created space, and throws the now-empty sack towards his gym bag. Taking a seat in the centre, he also removes his boots and tosses them in the same general direction.
Taking a deep breath, he stretches his arms up and out, bringing them down by his side again as he exhales, and lays flat on his back in the circle, staring absently at the ceiling.
“I guess I was wrong.”
There’s a pause as the air seems to thicken. And it sounds like Edgar sighs a little.
“I failed to ascribe some cosmic meaning in advance of that match, but my… my was I wrong about that.”
He snaps back up to sit cross legged and looks into the camera lens, like he just realised it was there.
“Did you feel it?” He asks, looking bizarrely excited, and a little crazed.
“You must have felt it. Everyone would have. How could they not? That deep rumbling in the place behind the light.... behind your heart.... the place you want to visit but you're so scared of what you might find there. That place I've seen so often... the place where... Haha!! Oh yes, tonight was indeed a special night. Every epic, every myth, every saga… has a prologue. Tonight I know…
a new saga has begun. Darius - I’ll be seeing you soon. For now, I need to talk to some.. people.. about what’s going on.”
He breathes out deeply and the maniacal look on his face fades. Whateley closes his eyes and places his hands, upturned, on his lap, with his thumb and ring fingers held together. After another deep breath, he begins to speak. His voice is deep and droning but he speaks so fast it’s hard to catch any particular words. It doesn’t even sound like he’s speaking English.
Fade to black.