Post by Lochlyn Cade on Aug 18, 2021 12:03:16 GMT
“It was thus rather the exacting nature of my aspirations than any particular degradation in my faults, that made me what I was, and, with even a deeper trench than in the majority of men, severed in me those provinces of good and ill which divide and compound man’s dual nature.” - Dr. Jekyll
In his final letter, Jekyll explains how, more than anything, it was his desire for achievement rather than an innate degradation in his soul that drove a wedge in his personality. What he became resulted not from his wickedness but from his scientific drive to understand what caused his split nature. Everyone, Jekyll contends, has a duality of personality and the potential for good and evil acts. Jekyll’s comparison of himself with others reveals his conviction that his evil impulses were not greater, his aspirations were higher. - Quoted -
It’s a mask that has been worn with the idea of concealed identity and mysterious intentions. However, those moments in the shadows of a dimly lit room the true nature of innocence and guilt isn’t as easily disguised. The reflection of a mirror from the eyes of a mask is true duality and he likes that. It’s not black and white but those shades of potential good and evil are separated by mere moments. It’s an instant thought, reaction. It doesn’t have to be a methodical process.
One of our greatest fears is that if we show our true selves, the world will say, “Oh, it’s just you.” - Quote -
Regardless if it’s a conscious or subconscious thought, in the sport of legend and forgotten, it’s a very de facto state of mind. The bright lights of CruiserClash provide a reflective expression of the true thoughts of the partisan fans cheering and jeering. That first night before he stepped between those ropes costing J.C. Keeton the match. The man of mask wasn’t concerned with how his actions would be perceived. Standing backstage afterwards as that moment replayed he wasn’t watching the actions he had committed. He watched those in the crowd.
In the reflection of those fans; he realized that the cheers and jeers simply faded together. J.C. Keeton a hated man by many still had those slight cheers of fandom. Those were the astounded and infuriated who flooded the mask with hate mail and social media threats. It’s something he could simply ignore. He realized that it had nothing to do with him. It’s the masks fault.
With every day, and from both sides of my intelligence, the moral and the intellectual, I thus drew steadily nearer to that truth, by whose partial discovery I have been doomed to such a dreadful shipwreck: that man is not truly one, but truly two.” - Dr. Jekyll’s
It’s the night of CruiserHavoc and Raijin sits backstage in a forgotten room that probably should have been locked. He kept the lights off to avoid someone seeing the glow from under the door. Explaining his presence in the room wasn’t worth the hassle; plus he likes sitting in the dark.
The room was lit by the sliver of light coming from outside the window as Raijin sits on the edge of a desk cluttered with manila folders and coffee stains. He’s holding a framed picture belonging to the desk and the patriarch of the family staring back at him. He wondered if holding a desk job was worth the smiles in the photo. It’s a question he often asked as a child when he’d tug on his mothers sleeve asking when daddy would be home.
“They look happy.”
His voice a shadow of his feelings in the moment. He places the frame back upon the desk and looks towards the couch against the far wall. The outline of a shadow sits with one foot spread across the small coffee table.
“You regret eating at the family table?”
It’s a shaded question as the family table was a semblance of the wrestling world, in which the family has made the “bread”, in which feeds the family; left at home without a father.
“It’s not… I don’t regret being here. I…”
He looks towards the door as a shuffling of feet scurry down the hall. The shadowed voice of his visitor interrupts the silence Raijin left with unspoken thoughts.
“It’s the girl.”
The man of mask stands and steps towards the window overlooking the street below.
One of our greatest fears is that if we show our true selves, the world will say, “Oh, it’s just you.” - Quote -
“I thought…”
Words lost in thought fade and strike painfully within his chest.
The outlined figure comes to his feet and walks towards the man dressed in black prepared for his match tonight at CruiserHavoc.
“It’s time.”
Raijin turns away from the window as his life within the theatrical world of professional wrestling again becomes the focus. It’s been the forefront part of his life since his time in Action Wrestling began. Those moments wain as the year end break gives the competitors a small reprieve before the start of the New Year; but first Havoc.
“At that time my virtue slumbered; my evil, kept awake by ambition, was alert and swift to seize the occasion; and the thing that was projected was Edward Hyde.” - Dr. Jekyll
#21 Reo Raijin
The moment he walked through the curtain his focus was upon Jonathan Cade Keeton. For every moment between his debut on October Twenty Sixth and now. He had stalked his prey and made his appearance known week after week all in anticipation for this night. It was the racing of his heart, the hardening of his stomach, and a tightness in his chest. His anger portrayed upon his body as he walked towards Havoc and baby boy Keeton.
Jonathan Cade Keeton heard the buzzer and it had been obvious that he was waiting, watching, for when Reo Raijin’s number would be called. Raijin saw the look in J.C.’s eyes and his physical demeanor he wore as it told a story of truth. Keeton’s feelings of Reo Raijin revealed in that moment. Keeton wasn’t just waiting on the man of mask he was reveling in it.
Raijin wasted no time climbing between the ropes and stepped into the combustion of Havoc. His eyes fixated upon Keeton and his blood boiling in anticipation. It was a clouded moment when Jim Mud pushed Keeton away and positioned himself in Raijin’s path of wrath. No hesitation. No moment of questions. Reo just started exchanging blows with Jim Mud and then removed him from the path.
Raijin had a partnership of happenstance with C.J. Phoenix and now he ducks the attempted barrage responding in controlled defiance. Raijin removed Phoenix from the path.
Trey Bouchet was next as he now stood between Raijin and his destination of fury. Raijin removed Bouchet from the path.
Regan Voorhees didn’t stand between Raijin and Keeton she was just simply standing in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Raijin removed the obstacles and now the an of mask stood eye too eye with Jonathan Cade Keeton.
Those mere seconds of hesitation by both men felt like a lifetime of distance.
And then they began changing blow after blow with neither man giving an inch of triumph to the other.
In that moment of exchanging fist and wrath Raijin felt free. It was a release from the moral dilemmas that perplexed him on a weekly basis that kept the two men separate.
Zombie McMorris
The disruption that came between Raijin and Keeton.
It gave way to a whirlwind of chaos between the ropes of Havoc. Reo Raijin wasn’t able to find that path that led back to Jonathan Cade. Keeton had gotten himself eliminated by Sara Pettis. A grudge of her own and she gained the upper hand tossing him over the top rope.
Raijin didn’t see the moment happen and it wasn’t until later that he realized Jonathan Cade had been eliminated. It was the replays after the event in which Raijin found out what happened to his self proclaimed nemesis.
The man of mask wasn’t in Havoc simply for his hatred and grudge for J.C. Keeton. He was determined to end the night as the Cruiserweight Champion. As the moments passed Raijin fought. As the next entrants numbers where called Raijin fought.
His hands became sore and his face a bruised mess but he continue fighting. The energy that engulfed his body upon entering Havoc waned and faded but yet he continue the fight. It was just chance that he saw Daemon from the corner of his eye. He was standing with Void as they were attempting to toss Soldado from the match.
Whether it was because of the words exchanged between the two on social media or his frustrations at seeing the Pure Champion inside his house of CruiserClash. He tugged down on his mask straightening his focus. Raijin didn’t question the thoughts he simply acted upon them. The focus of the mask told him to take Daemon out and so that’s what he did. Void much like Reagan earlier just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
......
“You suck!” It's the words flooding Raijin upon elimination.
It’s the first thing I heard when I pushed myself back to my feet and I came eye to eye with the man sitting ringside. My face flushed hot like burning embers. My ears rang with his laughter and the sting of being thrown from the match increased it’s intensity. My hand clenched into a fist of emotion and my rational lost in the moment.
It was as if I were watching a movie through the eyes of a stranger. It was both exhaustion and fumes of frustration that fueled the moment.. I’m sure that the guy yelling, laughing, saw the clenched first and fire within my eyes. I don’t know if I was fortunate or the fan was lucky. But one of the ringside officials pushed me away before my frustrations had the opportunity to bare fruit.
The zebra whispered in my ear as he walked me partially back up the isle to the entrance.
“Don’t make that mistake.”
He’d given me one last small push in the back before he turned towards the in ring action. My judgment however hadn’t returned as my feet stopped moving. My eyes caught the action inside of the ring and for a moment I’d forgotten about the fan. In that singular action of peeking between the ropes that my commonsense returned.
“Utterson, I swear to God,” cried the doctor, “I swear to God I will never set eyes on him again. I bind my honour to you that I am done with him in this world. It is all at an end. And indeed he does not want my help; you do not know him as I do; he is safe, he is quite safe; mark my words, he will never more be heard of.” - Dr. Jekyll
The stiffness within my knees relaxed as my feet began moving towards the entrance. The curtain parted with my hand as I walk through to the backstage. I was met by a kid named Rusty who handed me a bottle of water that felt cool within my grasp. I craved the cold as I drank the bottle in it’s entirety as it soothed the heat in my throat.
“Thanks.”
I mumbled as I flipped he bottle back to the kid and I walked passed the backstage officials. The hall was full of guest, family and friends, of the locker room. Unlike most I didn’t have anyone of importance waiting to greet me as I walked through the curtain. I stumbled towards the stairs that lead me back to the dim lit room in which I occupied before my call to the ring.
The exhaustion, frustrations, and disappointments of the night felt like an unbearable weight within my throat. It was air that I craved and the mask for the first time in Action Wrestling felt like a constriction. I grasped at the strings on the back as I pushed open the door.
I was suddenly stopped as the shadowed figure remained seated again upon the couch. The door closed as I pulled the last knot loose removing the mask. My chest exploded with a deep sigh of relief as if the removal of the mask removed an obstruction from my lungs.
I must have been breathing heavier than I thought as I heard him speak for the first time.
“You okay?”
I’m fine I screamed within my head but I simply answered.
“I’m good.”
I’m not sure he believed the words anymore than I did but I didn’t say anything else. I don’t know why but I leaned against the door and slid down as I came to rest on the floor. My arms draped over my knees but I held onto the mask. I always hung onto the mask.
Sweat dripped down my face as my body cried from the fatigue.
“I’m… exhausted.”
I released the truth and instantly regretted the moment. One truth always led to another and I was too tired to defend my position.
“And indeed the worst of my faults was a certain impatient gaiety of disposition, such as has made the happiness of many, but such as I found it hard to reconcile with my imperious desire to carry my head high, and wear a more than commonly grave countenance before the public.” - Dr. Jekyll
“You failed to eliminate J.C. Keeton.”
If I had been standing I would have probably struck him for the comment. It’s as if he had been behind the mask instead of holed up in some dark office. Instead I quipped back with a bit of arrogance in my voice.
“I eliminated the Pure Champion and in ways that means just as much.”
I’m sure he’ll find a way to criticize that as nothing I do is ever good enough. It’s taken a long time for me to see that but it’s glaring now. We’ve all got that voice in the back of our head. At least it seems that way when you run up and down the list of frustrations people have with themselves. Then there’s always the perception of others and with that the feeling of defending your pride.
“Isn’t he the weakest of all the Champions in AW?”
And… there it is… Should I just tell him the truth? I mean I’d be an idiot to underestimate Daemon and what he’s done so far since he’s been here. He’s a Champion in the biggest promotion of the sport and not many can say that. I know. I’m one of them.
“Yeah, he’s kind of a joke.”
It’s the exhaustion talking. Would anyone noticed if I took a nap right here on the floor?
“It doesn’t sound like you really mean that…”
As I’m sitting there I feel the slightest drip of sweat fall from my eyebrow and run down my cheek. I’m not sure if it’s from the physicality of the match or perspiration of contempt.
“You’re going to sit there and question my disdain for Daemon? It wasn’t that long ago that I called him out publicly. Tonight in that ring it’s obvious that I backed up every single word that came from my mouth. NOBODY! Can question that not even the Champ himself.
That… what did you call him… Weak link in the Championship Chain? He stepped into the CRUISER house and I sent him home with his tail tucked between his legs. You don’t get to sit there and question my motives nor my appetite for guys like MAX DAEMON!
I’m vicious between those ropes and I DO WHATEVER it takes to walk out of that ring night after night with the victory. Yeah, you can sit there and say I’ve fallen short a time or two. That doesn’t change my stance nor lesson my competitive advantage. For the record, it doesn’t censor my voice of quick wit and verbal domination either.”
“To cast in my lot with Jekyll, was to die to those appetites which I had long secretly indulged and had of late begun to pamper. To cast it in with Hyde, was to die to a thousand interests and aspirations, and to become, at a blow and forever, despised and friendless. The bargain might appear unequal; but there was still another consideration in the scales; for while Jekyll would suffer smartingly in the fires of abstinence, Hyde would be not even conscious of all that he had lost.” - Dr. Jekyll
It was obvious I had struck a cord with the shadow as he raised his hand in a moment for physical forfeit of a verbal barrage. It would be much the same if I were to step between the ropes with the Pure Champion.
I pressed my hands to floor and push myself to my feet. I paused momentarily partially to see if he had any parting words as I demanded to have the last word in this conversation.
“You were in the ring with her for the first time…”
…
…
…
It’s like that feeling we all get at times. A sudden drop in the pit of the stomach. A tightness in the throat. A moment of extreme emotion that suddenly springs forth in conversation. It’s the something we don’t want to discuss but the subject when broached becomes what we want, need, to talk about. She’s that subject. The change in conversation is like a light switch and my temperament changes from vexation to tranquility.
“I honestly didn’t think we’d end up in the ring at the same time. The odds against that were less than I expected I guess. No, before you even try and say anything. It’s not because I didn’t… or don’t believe in myself. Evidently I put a stamp on my confidence and ability in that ring tonight.
I guess I didn’t believe in her enough.”
Those words penetrated my memories and stuck in my throat as I knew better than to say them. Not to him, the shadow, but out loud to myself. I underestimated her once before and she proved me wrong. I won’t tell her but she did it to me again. She proved me wrong and this time I knew better and did it anyway.
“How’s she going to react if she figures out the man behind the mask?”
I’m shaken from thought and words as someone begins to barge into the room. A hand reaches for the light before the door fully opens. I forcefully stop the motion of both the door and the individual before their able to enter the room. The voice of a female rings out as if alarming sirens in the midst of a dream.
“I’m sorry it’s housekeeping. I didn’t know anyone was in here.”
The hand retracts as I secure the door this time turning the lock. It’s a mistake that I wouldn’t normally make when I’m without mask. In exhaustion I had failed at turning the lock of the door. The interruption is gone but the lights brighten the room around me.
I remember that the room was occupied with both myself and the man of shadows. In the blaring light I turn towards the couch on which he sat.
But he’s already gone.
In his final statement, Jekyll describes how he was finally forced to make a choice between Jekyll or Hyde. To go with Jekyll would mean killing his natural desires. To go with Hyde would mean to kill his professional life and forever be alone. Jekyll says the decision isn’t as clear-cut as it seems, for at least with Hyde, there would be no conscience interfering with his peace of mind. - Quoted -
The man of mask reaches and turns the lights back off as he wishes to continue the conversation. He can’t pretend humility or ambivalence it’s the truth of self. Those moments, his own thoughts, when the mask is removed yet both men are revealed. The duality of self within those gray shades of good and evil. It’s the battle of voices upon the shoulders attempting to dispel the other and rule even if it’s for a brief period of time.
“Oh, it’s you again. Hello. Friend.”
The man of shadows speaks as the lights go dark and the sliver of illumination creeps through the darkness from the window across the room. Aspirations sometimes cloud the thoughts and judgments that men make. It’s the bending of the rule. The concealment of the truth. It’s a broken moral code and failure of intellect dooming us to a dreadful shipwreck; the truth that man is never truly one, but truly two. It’s the narrative that both a mask and a shadow tell when the lights go dark and the truth is laid bare.
The mask sits with shadow and they share the darkness of one.