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Like the Weather
Topic Started: Feb 9 2013, 01:51 AM (67 Views)
Voland
NEWera Rookie
[ * ]
The scene opens to show Mike Voland walking down a sidewalk. He's wearing his usual garb of black boots, jeans, and long leather trench coat, his hands tucked into the pockets as the open overgarment reveals a black T-shirt displaying a pair of neon green outlined blue fists with middle fingers raised. His eyes are, as usual, covered by a pair of dark wraparound shades and his long black hair wafts a bit behind him as he walks on with long strides. The shades are actually warranted, this time, as the only things in view not coated in snow, reflecting the rays of the otherwise impotent sun, are the sidewalk he's walking on (rock salt crunches beneath his boots with every step) and the road visible aside, with only a few passing vehicles, mostly pickups and SUVs coated in the white residue that comes from driving on salted roads. He snorts, and a cloud of frozen breath floats away from his face.

”A lot of people like to say, and I quote, ad nausea, 'If you don't like the weather, just wait a few minutes.' Any moron that likes to say that, no doubt thinking they're being clever as the umpteenth billionth person to cite the same stupid cliché, is either a complete moron or has never lived on the shore of one of the Great Lakes during winter. If you don't like the weather here then move about a thousand miles south and shut up. It's cold. It snows a lot. If it hasn't snowed in the past week then make sure you know where your shovel and ice scraper are because you're gonna need them by the day after tomorrow at the latest, at least if you want to go anywhere on wheels. Actually, if you live here and ever lose track of those things at all then you deserve to freeze to death like a shaved lemming. Just go find a cliff to jump off and save the rest of us the trouble of driving around the crash scene.

“Weather can't really be predictable, at least not completely. Much like me in the ring. But, where I come from certain things are inevitable. Much like when I step into a ring. It's going to be cold. I'm going to kick somebody's ass. Maybe it'll snow. Maybe I'll kick somebody in their face. Okay, that's actually throwing a bone to the weatherman and the commentators alike, there; both of those are almost guaranteed to happen. The Lake Effect is almost as reliable around these parts as the Voland Effect is in a wrestling ring. Almost.”


Mike doesn't slow his long-strided pace as he removes his hands from the pockets of his coat and leans down to scoop up a large handful of snow from the small snowbank that is, judging by the bare branches jutting up from the white pile, a flowerbed in front of a small business. Straightening up, he doesn't break stride as he begins expertly packing the mass of crystallized water between his bare hands. Obviously, he's done this before.

”Still, there are always a few things you can't predict. Life would be boring otherwise, now, wouldn't it? Maybe the winter skies will drop sleet instead of snow so everybody can go car-skating instead of snow-driving. Maybe I'll sweep your feet out from beneath you instead of kicking your head off. Then there are always the favorites like whiteouts and dropkicks. Yeah, everybody loves those.

“But, from the perspective of my opponents, I'll put it in terms of an analogy. Then I'll give an example. Sometimes the weather decides it just doesn't like you. Maybe you manage to land a few hits on me and think you're doing well. Kinda like some dumbass that sees the temperature go above freezing in the middle of the day and thinks tomorrow will be great. Wrong! The weather doesn't like anybody, and neither do I. At least not anybody I've seen in NEW...but I digress.

“Like the weather, I am a force of nature. You can hope it doesn't happen but that won't help. You can pray, but insurance companies use the term “Act of God” specifically for the purpose of avoiding responsibility for the things that actually cause serious and unavoidable damage.

“As soon as the sun goes down that thaw turns into a freeze and coats everything in ice. As soon as you think you've knocked the wind out of me I get back up. You wake up to find your car coated in ice. I kip up and punch you in the face. You scrape your car off, turn out of your driveway and skid into a ditch. I turn you inside out before you recover from being punched in the face. But instead of a police car and an ambulance, anybody facing me in the ring isn't so lucky. They get to face the full front of the storm. I'm not just a flurry of snow, I'm not just a coating of ice. I am a human Act of God, and no insurance policy will cover the damage that I will visit upon you.

“You'd be better off slipping on an icy patch stepping out of your front door, or even getting hit by some punkass kid with a snowball.”


Mike suddenly tosses the hard packed snowball in his hands up, catches it, turns, and whips it across the street with a throw that would make Major League pitchers jealous, the back of his coat flaring up in response to his throw. A brief shout of surprise is heard from off screen.

”Or maybe you get cold cocked by the snowball and slip on the ice anyway. Heh.”

A shout can be heard; the words aren't clear but the speaker doesn't sound happy. Mike tosses a middle finger across the street.

”Suck it up or the next one has a rock in it, pansy!”

After a second, Voland grins and resumes walking.

”I don't know my opponents this week. Hell, I haven't really known my opponents from the start, aside from my second match, which was just a remix of my first match. I didn't win my first match, but I didn't lose it either. I've only had two matches here since then, and I've won them both. You can't change the weather and you can't avoid it. You can't avoid me either. It's inevitable. I am inevitable. And do you know what happens when too much weather happens in a sudden manner? The same thing as when I happen to anybody in the ring in a sudden manner.

“Lights Out.”
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