Post by Max f'n Daemon on May 21, 2023 13:21:24 GMT -5
Holo Make stares across the table from Nathan Miles, Max's father.
The neutral expression on the Pale Rider’s face doesn’t change. The only sign of any semblance of a reaction lies in the Hawaiian’s twitching fingers.
“So you are the guy Max has picked up,” Nathan says.
“It was more like I found him,” Max says between his whiskey gulps.
“It was actually more like his ex-girlfriend found me,” Holo says.
Max sputters, causing the whiskey to spill and him to cough wildly. Max walks away from the table.
“Enjoy your talk,” he chokes.
Both Holo and Nathan roll their eyes at Max’s angered embarrassment.
“So…why agree to be mentored by my son? He isn’t exactly the most…respectable person to learn form,” Nathan says.
“It was a mere manner of convenience. My last conquest ended abruptly, and my second founder brought me to him with vile intentions,” Holo responds.
"That is par for the course with Wuya…”
“I’ve found more and more interest in Max as a person and a wrestler where I feel like he could help me on my own quest.”
“Which is?”
Holo shrugs, as if the reasoning is entirely normal.
“Destroy everything in my path in the name of the Gods who saved me.”
Nathan just stares at Holo with a…look for a few moments.
Yes.
Entirely normal.
“Pardon?” he asks.
“I fight for Kanaloa. For Kane. For Ku. For all the Gods who kept me alive on that island and have given me the gifts needed to conquer any confrontation I collate.”
“Oh you are one of those wrestlers…”
“I do not need your belief, much like I didn’t need Downfall’s.”
“Right, and your association with Max has nothing to do with his association, however slim it may be, with Jack or David Hunter, right?”
Holo pauses. He shows the first visible reaction since sitting down by narrowing his eyes.
“I had no idea of my relation to them until David confronted Max.”
“Hm hm…” Nathan noises in clear disbelief.
“I come from an isolated island. I know nothing of before I arrived there, only that my mother was long dead and my father had little care for my existence. I survived on that island, alone with nothing but the trees, the wind, the sand, and the other animals present there before I arrived. I know little of the man who found me, only he was successful and took pity on me. I am not proud that I accepted his terms so quickly. I am only proud that it has led me on a path that is very similar to what I’ve come to know.”
“Battle. War,” Nathan answers an unasked question.
Holo nods, taking a sip from the glass of milk on the table.
Nathan scratches his beard a bit, contemplating something.
“So why not join us in WGWF?” he asks.
“It was Max’s suggestion, actually. He recommended I do not spread myself too thin. This is only my second year in what you people call a ‘business.’”
“You disagree with the idea,” Nathan does not ask the question.
“This is a battle. A war. For people like my next foe, wrestling is about making money, proving themselves, or earning respect. It’s commendable, but at the end of any night, the only thing that matters is the…match. I’ve been fighting since I can remember, whether it be to survive or because it’s all I’ve known. Were it not for the gifts bestowed upon me by the Gods who’ve blessed me, I would not be here.”
“But you have.”
“But I have. And now I thank them by using their gifts to guide me towards a violent victory. I use Kane’s wisdom to lead me, Ku’s armies to strengthen me, and when I conquer Joule, they will be like my other fallen foes: their soul, their essence, their spirit, their very being will be sent down to Kanaloa.”
“That’s what makes you The Pale Rider.”
Holo nods, grabbing his milk to finish it.
“Commendable. Delusional, perhaps, but it doesn’t matter if I or Joule believes it, so long as you do.”
Holo sets the glass back down. He relaxes his muscles and stops the twitching fingers.
“I appreciate your words, even if I don’t appreciate the condenscendaton.”
“Condescending.”
Holo raises an eyebrow.
“You were being that, yes,” he says… confusingly.
“No, the word…”
Nathan lets his argument peter out, opting instead to let out a sigh.
“Never mind. You mentioned your opponent a bit earlier. Any thought on her?”
“She’s…spunky. I admire her strength to be her true self. I have no care for personal relationships in that regard, let alone sexual ones—”
“For the love of…you dense motherfucker…”
Holo continues his confusion even as Max returns to his seat, a new glass of whiskey already half empty.
“Not sexually. I mean as an opponent.”
Max quickly chugs the rest of his whiskey and gets out of his chair, heading back towards the bar.
“I believe that she will put up a fight. I believe that she will try her hardest to beat me. And she can try all she likes. It will not stop me from riding back to Kanaloa with her soul. It’s nothing personal. It’s just…business.”
Nathan narrows his eyes, his lips fighting the urge to smile.
“Was that a joke?”
Holo just shrugs, standing out of the chair and walking towards Max. Once he arrives, he sits in the seat next to him.
“So…what do ya’ think?” Max asks.
“The milk was good.”
Max looks at Holo with drooped eyes and an annoyed twitching of his lips.
Holo actually manages to crack a smile.
“Your father is a good man. I can see where you get your wariness for things.”
The bartender hands Max his whiskey and Holo another shot of milk. They lift them up towards the other.
“A hiki i ka holo hou ana o ke kanikau…” Holo says.
They clink glasses.
“Until The Dirge rides again…” Max finishes.
The neutral expression on the Pale Rider’s face doesn’t change. The only sign of any semblance of a reaction lies in the Hawaiian’s twitching fingers.
“So you are the guy Max has picked up,” Nathan says.
“It was more like I found him,” Max says between his whiskey gulps.
“It was actually more like his ex-girlfriend found me,” Holo says.
Max sputters, causing the whiskey to spill and him to cough wildly. Max walks away from the table.
“Enjoy your talk,” he chokes.
Both Holo and Nathan roll their eyes at Max’s angered embarrassment.
“So…why agree to be mentored by my son? He isn’t exactly the most…respectable person to learn form,” Nathan says.
“It was a mere manner of convenience. My last conquest ended abruptly, and my second founder brought me to him with vile intentions,” Holo responds.
"That is par for the course with Wuya…”
“I’ve found more and more interest in Max as a person and a wrestler where I feel like he could help me on my own quest.”
“Which is?”
Holo shrugs, as if the reasoning is entirely normal.
“Destroy everything in my path in the name of the Gods who saved me.”
Nathan just stares at Holo with a…look for a few moments.
Yes.
Entirely normal.
“Pardon?” he asks.
“I fight for Kanaloa. For Kane. For Ku. For all the Gods who kept me alive on that island and have given me the gifts needed to conquer any confrontation I collate.”
“Oh you are one of those wrestlers…”
“I do not need your belief, much like I didn’t need Downfall’s.”
“Right, and your association with Max has nothing to do with his association, however slim it may be, with Jack or David Hunter, right?”
Holo pauses. He shows the first visible reaction since sitting down by narrowing his eyes.
“I had no idea of my relation to them until David confronted Max.”
“Hm hm…” Nathan noises in clear disbelief.
“I come from an isolated island. I know nothing of before I arrived there, only that my mother was long dead and my father had little care for my existence. I survived on that island, alone with nothing but the trees, the wind, the sand, and the other animals present there before I arrived. I know little of the man who found me, only he was successful and took pity on me. I am not proud that I accepted his terms so quickly. I am only proud that it has led me on a path that is very similar to what I’ve come to know.”
“Battle. War,” Nathan answers an unasked question.
Holo nods, taking a sip from the glass of milk on the table.
Nathan scratches his beard a bit, contemplating something.
“So why not join us in WGWF?” he asks.
“It was Max’s suggestion, actually. He recommended I do not spread myself too thin. This is only my second year in what you people call a ‘business.’”
“You disagree with the idea,” Nathan does not ask the question.
“This is a battle. A war. For people like my next foe, wrestling is about making money, proving themselves, or earning respect. It’s commendable, but at the end of any night, the only thing that matters is the…match. I’ve been fighting since I can remember, whether it be to survive or because it’s all I’ve known. Were it not for the gifts bestowed upon me by the Gods who’ve blessed me, I would not be here.”
“But you have.”
“But I have. And now I thank them by using their gifts to guide me towards a violent victory. I use Kane’s wisdom to lead me, Ku’s armies to strengthen me, and when I conquer Joule, they will be like my other fallen foes: their soul, their essence, their spirit, their very being will be sent down to Kanaloa.”
“That’s what makes you The Pale Rider.”
Holo nods, grabbing his milk to finish it.
“Commendable. Delusional, perhaps, but it doesn’t matter if I or Joule believes it, so long as you do.”
Holo sets the glass back down. He relaxes his muscles and stops the twitching fingers.
“I appreciate your words, even if I don’t appreciate the condenscendaton.”
“Condescending.”
Holo raises an eyebrow.
“You were being that, yes,” he says… confusingly.
“No, the word…”
Nathan lets his argument peter out, opting instead to let out a sigh.
“Never mind. You mentioned your opponent a bit earlier. Any thought on her?”
“She’s…spunky. I admire her strength to be her true self. I have no care for personal relationships in that regard, let alone sexual ones—”
“For the love of…you dense motherfucker…”
Holo continues his confusion even as Max returns to his seat, a new glass of whiskey already half empty.
“Not sexually. I mean as an opponent.”
Max quickly chugs the rest of his whiskey and gets out of his chair, heading back towards the bar.
“I believe that she will put up a fight. I believe that she will try her hardest to beat me. And she can try all she likes. It will not stop me from riding back to Kanaloa with her soul. It’s nothing personal. It’s just…business.”
Nathan narrows his eyes, his lips fighting the urge to smile.
“Was that a joke?”
Holo just shrugs, standing out of the chair and walking towards Max. Once he arrives, he sits in the seat next to him.
“So…what do ya’ think?” Max asks.
“The milk was good.”
Max looks at Holo with drooped eyes and an annoyed twitching of his lips.
Holo actually manages to crack a smile.
“Your father is a good man. I can see where you get your wariness for things.”
The bartender hands Max his whiskey and Holo another shot of milk. They lift them up towards the other.
“A hiki i ka holo hou ana o ke kanikau…” Holo says.
They clink glasses.
“Until The Dirge rides again…” Max finishes.