Redemption/How Sweet It Is
Feb 25, 2018 23:33:20 GMT -5
Gravedigger and “The RevolutiDaddy” Wesley like this
Post by Dionysus on Feb 25, 2018 23:33:20 GMT -5
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“The boy grows upward, but the girl grows up.”
― Patrick Rothfuss
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The scene opens to the sun setting along Bde Maka Ska, or what was formerly known as Lake Calhoun. Normally a bed of activity, it was awfully quiet around the lake this time of year. It was to be expected; there was little call for swimming on a lake that was, for the most part, frozen over. The camera panned to a bench overlooking the lake. The silhouette of a woman sprouted from the bench’s shadow, her frame beginning just below the shoulders. While a hat adorned the shadow’s head, the woman’s hair crawled out from under, the tips dancing gently in the winter breeze. It was warm for a winter day, especially in the afternoon.
A tall figure walked along the sidewalk in front of the bench, taking their place next to the woman. The side profile was already cut; Dionysus’s beard was hard to mistake. This was a regular meeting place for the man, as he always enjoyed the scenic outlooks. This visit, however, would prove more difficult. “Glad you made it,” Dion said, breaking the silence.
The woman turned, facing Dion. “You asked, I came,” she said, matter-of-factly.
Dion’s expression soured; it had been some months since he had spoken to Amy Esteed, a nurse who took care of his mother and a woman whom he once shared a house with. He felt awkward; for the first time in several months, Dion was unsure where to start. “So…this weather is nice.”
Amy blinked at him, her expression softening. “Yes…warming up, for a change.”
The silence was deafening, the air was filled with tension. Both Dion and Amy were being formulaic in their responses, carefully guessing what the other would say.
“So…how is work?”
“Good. They reassigned me, but I still see your mother. She’s still improving, from what I’m hearing.”
“Yeah, the doctors have told us that she should be ready to be on her own in a few months. Though I’m sure she will miss you.”
Amy shook her head. “That’s silly. I was just her nurse; why would she miss me?”
Dion gave a knowing look. “Because she was more than just your charge. Don’t give me that line.”
“Oh, now we get right into it, huh?” Amy spat back. “You think you can sit there and tell me what I was to someone else? Bullshit, Dion, just bullshit.” Amy stood up, staring daggers at Dion. “I acted as her nurse, helped take care of her while she was rehabilitating, fell for the caring son who visited on a regular basis, and became mixed up in his life…until the son fell off the face of the planet for months.”
Dion buried his face into his hands. He knew this was going to be a difficult conversation, but each truth Amy drove into him left a scar, as though she were taking a blade and twisting into his side. “I know…I know that’s what you want to tell me, so you can distance yourself from me. To be honest, based on how I treated you all those months ago, I don’t really blame you for telling me off like this.” Dion looked up at Amy. Her eyes scanned the face of the man she loved once; his eyes tired, lines dotting his expressive face. His eyes lost the glow he had months ago; the excitement, the energy he had, was simply gone. “I didn’t come out here to just have polite small talk and be on my way. I wanted to give you my side of the story. I’m not expecting forgiveness…hell, I’m sure I will never earn that. But you do deserve to know why I did what I did. If you can just bear with me, I will explain everything.”
While she was still filled with anger, Amy did manage to calm down. “I have a few minutes to spare,” she said. Despite her strong feeling of animosity and hatred toward this man, she also could not keep her compassionate side quiet. She took a seat next to Dion, choosing to look out at the lake instead of stare at the man.
Dion took a deep breath. He was rehearsing what he wanted to tell her the last several days, but he was unsure how to explain it all to her. “I'm sorry, I just have to ask...I know you were looking into my eyes…but to me, it looked like you were trying to find something that had gone missing.”
“Well, yeah,” Amy replied. “You always had unique eyes. I have never seen anyone with purple irises before. It was part of what attra- “
“Wait,” Dion interrupted. “My eyes?”
“…Yes…you have purple eyes. When we were at the Dakota, those purple eyes were filled with life, purpose, fire. Its what attracted me to you in the end...why? What's so strange about that?”
“Amy…my eyes have always been brown.”
Amy turned to him, her expression shocked. When she looked, his eyes were indeed brown. “But…but I know I…maybe it was something…I-"
“Perhaps I should try to explain why I brought you out here,” Dion said, pausing before he recollected his thoughts. “Do you remember when I was part of The Brotherhood? I was accepted into a society of competitors that had lost their footing somewhere along the way. A man named Kevin Bishop took me in, showed me where I had gone astray. So many people wanted to treat us like a cult, and sure, Bishop treated the group as such for a while, but I can tell you that the group was nothing of the sort. Rather, we were a group that found solace and comfort in each other. I was struggling to cope with my issues with Albert Divine and his stranglehold on my livelihood that an escape was my only choice…and I took it.”
“When I stayed with The Brotherhood at Lester’s farm, I decided to do something I thought I would never do. You know I was named after the greek god Dionysus, right? I figured, as a joke, on a whim, I would strike out a few paces away from the farmstead and build a shrine devoted to Dionysus. I didn’t spend too long making the shrine; maybe a day or two since I had to help the others keep the farm up and running too. When it was done, I decided to spend some time preparing the space properly. I was out there every day, an hour at a time, preparing the space. It was about five days after I built the shrine…that I heard a calling.”
“I thought I was going crazy. Suddenly I’m hearing voices from somewhere, saying they were this god and that I should follow him willingly…or else. I remember another incident where some of the members of The Brotherhood weren’t thrilled with how I handled the situation with Jason Slasher…which is an entirely different can of worms I plan on dealing with soon…and they decided to attack me. I remember being choked out…but when I came to, I was still standing, and the other guy was on the ground, bloody and bruised. He wasn’t dead…but he had been beaten raw. It terrified me. For the first time in years, I felt real fear. I felt out of my own control. I didn’t know if I was just subconsciously secluding myself, or if I willingly chose to forget the emotions I normally have in those moments. Either way, I knew I couldn’t stay with The Brotherhood.”
“Months passed…I won the Trilogy Cup…I won the World Title…but the truth is, I don’t remember doing any of it. I heard the gentle reassurances that, yes, it really was me who held it together, handled his own business, and came out on top. But I was still in a haze. Just as quickly as I had won the title, it slipped through my fingers. My haze didn’t leave me that night. I chose to leave then and there, knowing full well that something was wrong. I remember the argument we had where you ultimately left. I remember saying I wouldn’t be able to see my mother, and you couldn’t understand why.”
“Well, the reason why is that something is wrong with me, Amy. Either I am suffering from some sort of illness or disease, or this is all just in my head. I personally think, however…that this possession is real. That Dionysus, for some reason, has decided to take up residence within my own mind; a purpose that, to this day, I still do not know. It could be just for kicks, he could have some greater purpose for me. But what I do know…is that he wants me back in that ring. I joined a new federation, one with both new and familiar faces. Maybe there, I can find the answers I’m looking for.”
“But that’s ultimately why I became so different. I was working on repressing that side of me, to the point where I had to bury myself completely in order to escape my old life. I know it was the wrong choice now…but given what I went through…you can see why I did what I did, right?”
Amy remained quiet throughout Dion’s entire explanation. She wanted to give Dion plenty of opportunity to explain his actions, but she also was unsure how to take all this in. He was possessed by a god? He beat a man to near death? His leaving had to do with his mental state? She was still trying to grasp how his iris could change color from brown to purple. “I…I really don’t know what to make of this, Dion. I mean…I work with mental health patients all the time…but this is really beyond what I can understand.”
Dion shook his head. “I know how it sounds. It sounds like I’m losing my mind, that hell, maybe I’ve already lost it. But I know that, after everything that we’ve been through, that you could at least assure me that I’m not insane.” He paused, laughing to himself hollowly. “Well, no more insane than anyone else, anyway.”
Amy cracked a smile, but quickly hid it away. “Look…if this is true…well, no, I don’t want to think this is true. How do I know that this isn’t just a big excuse?”
Dion nodded, understandably. “I know, this is really difficult to take in and understand. I’m not looking for you to just take me at my word without any kind of proof. I wanted to tell you because I know, with your medical background, you could at least investigate my condition, should I have one. I’m also going to look into this myself, and maybe between the two of us, we can find out what’s going on and put an end to it.” He looked over at Amy, his eyes heavy. “But whether you can trust my word or accept my explanation…well, that isn’t really something I’m expecting. I am hopeful that you can, but…well, given our history, it wouldn’t surprise me.” Dion stood up, using the bench as a support. He didn’t have great footing and nearly slipped but managed it on his own. He started on his way back to the car, leaving Amy to contemplate.
Please, Amy…please believe me…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Prepare yourselves
for the roaring voice of the God of Joy!”
― Euripides
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The scene transitioned to the interior of a study. An old leather chair sat in the foreground, the flicker of light dancing from the fireplace behind the chair. A single table sat next to the chair, an old book and bowl sat upon it. Sitting in the chair was Dionysus, holding onto a glass of wine. He was stirring the red liquid in his glass, watching the gentle arc travel along the side of the glass. “Ahh…nothing more relaxing than a quiet evening with your finest book, an excellent vintage, and a great book in front of a warm fire,” Dionysus began. He chuckled, taking a sip from his glass. He smacked his glass, muttering, “Simply glorious.” He set the glass aside, leaning forward in the chair. “I do enjoy these moments, where I can put my feet up and enjoy the calm before the storm. Surely, it would have been fantastic to become world champion…but my time will come. I will permit the sisters to decide when that time will be, for surely it will arrive sooner than anticipated.”
Dionysus cracked his knuckles. “For now, a new prize sits upon the horizon. The United States Championship. An opportunity to be a first champion still stands within my grasp. Of course, it will not be so simple as to come and obtain such a prize. I would need to contend with five other worthy opponents before I can lay claim to this glory. Even before this, however…there is the matter of proving my own worth. And that starts with the defeat…of Alexander Richards.”
Dionysus chuckled. “Oh, do forgive me, Mr. Richards. It seems you prefer to go by Alex these days. Your name is known to me, of course. The reputation, naturally, proceeds you. A respected world champion, a leader of men, a powerful and challenging contender. Power attracts power, you see, and I am looking forward to this opportunity. But I fear that, before we do battle, there is something you should know of me.”
Dionysus took hold of the bowl next to him, showing the contents to the camera. Inside were a myriad of small colored orbs, with plenty of reds, yellows and greens. Dionysus pulled out a red orb, holding in front of him, squinting his eye somewhat. “This, Mr. Richards…is a Gobstopper. It is one of my favorite candies. Do you know why?” Dionysus popped the gobstopper in his mouth. “It is due to the complexity of the sweet. It begins flavorful, fruitful, full of life and body. But then…it changes dramatically. The thick, sweet coating vanishes, revealing a tart interior and, on occasion, a new flavor entirely. Something unexpected, something that cannot be seen from the surface, but is still ever present; in a lot of ways, it is my favorite because it reminds me so much of the industry I have grown to love.” He laughed louder. “But then again, it may be drawn to you due to its close resemblance to those medications you took to change who you were…into this new…mask…that you chose to wear.”
Dionysus set the bowl aside, standing up. His eyes were a prominent purple, standing out in the light. “What most make of me is what is on the surface. They see a man, fiery and wild-haired, looking like he belongs in a refrigerator box instead of a wrestling ring, and not knowing the real man inside. They see a man who talks of gods speaking to him and the response is ‘He is out of his mind,’ or ‘He’s truly possessed and must be exorcised.'” Dionysus shook his head, wagging his finger in front of the camera. “That is not the case, Mr. Richards. See, by accepting that I am Dionysus, I really am just accepting a side of myself I normally would not. Admittedly, it really is only a side that comes out when I compete. And why should it be hidden? After all, it has propelled me to heights I never thought I would ever be.”
Dionysus set his hand to his side. “Ahh…but you refuse to believe what is in front of you, now do you? Well then…perhaps a demonstration is in order…”
He bowed his head down, extending his arms, outstretched and open handed. Slowly, his hands clenched, as they moved back to their sides. Dionysus held his head up, staring into the camera…his eyes still noticeably purple. A wicked grin crossed Dionysus’s face, as he burst into maniacal laughter. “You see, Mr. Richards? This is no act, no joke, no magic trick. This is simply who I am; Dionysus, Lord of the Vine, Master of Revels, Wonderful Philanthropist, Lord of the Dance…and your opponent.”
Dionysus moved to stand next to the table, reaching for the bowl of gobstoppers. “You see, Alex – I can remember your ‘true’ name, after all – it is a simple matter of acceptance. We both wandered different paths in discovering our identity. I sought guidance from a divine source, through teachings and meditation, while you resorted to using medication to forget yourself. My path, you will see, is where I accepted myself, while you…you simply could not. This…image, this Alex Richards…is really not what I am after. I do not want to face a man who needs – or needed, at the very least – to use some substance to completely mask and hide his true self.” He held the bowl at eye level, slowly tipping the bowl, and allowing the gobstoppers to roll freely onto the floor. Dionysus lowered the bowl, allowing a playful chuckle to come out. “Ahh…how sweet it is…to be truly free, alive, knowing who or what you truly are.”
Dionysus sat back down. “You see, I do not want to stand in that ring against Alex Richards, the candy coating. I want to stand in the ring with Alexander Richards, the tart center that makes up your true body. It seems obvious that you would like to have some assistance in this endeavor, but let me assure you that no outside interference, whether it is physical or metaphysical, will be in that ring. For you see, I do not require divine intervention to compete, nor do I need the favor of any of the gods to become a victor. I will simply act as your polar opposite. You would prefer to approach me as a flame? Then I shall act as water, dowsing your efforts. You would rather act as the serpents in Ireland? Then allow me to be the Saint Patrick that drives you forth. You would prefer to have the Lord of Linguine, the Master of Marinara, the Alpha Alfredo in your corner? Then I will simply be…hmm…well, I will simply be the breadsticks that ultimately soak up what remains. For you see, Mr. Richards, while the pasta can be powerful, it will, inevitably, run out. But the breadsticks, Alexander…the breadsticks last forever…”
Dionysus tilted his head to the side in thought. “Although…as I think on it, the analogy is broken down somewhat. Perhaps I should use a final analogy with which I am more familiar…ahh, but of course. You have always reminded me of Prometheus. You act within the interest that best serves you, choosing your side accordingly. In his tale, Prometheus stood with Zeus to quell the titans, thus freeing him from being punished like his own kind. He would then serve as protector of humankind, despite his status as a titan. Of course, he is best known for retrieving fire from Zeus, and being chained to a stone in order to have his liver eaten perpetually, for you see, the titan was immortal. However, not many know why he had to retrieve fire. It was his own mistake. Zeus took the flame away from humankind due to Prometheus’s trick to have Zeus’s offering be bone and fat rather than meat.”
Dionysus leaned forward again. “Mr. Richards…you remind me of Prometheus, for you act on your own interests, whether it be for yourself or for others. However, it also leaves you shackled, being pecked at from all sides, as we all know that deep within you is Alexander, the man you truly are. So permit me, Mr. Richards…no, Alexander…permit me to be your Heracles, and let me free you from your bindings. Then you shall see how sweet it is to enjoy the same freedom I do.”
“The choice, inevitably, is yours. I do hope you accept.”
“The boy grows upward, but the girl grows up.”
― Patrick Rothfuss
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The scene opens to the sun setting along Bde Maka Ska, or what was formerly known as Lake Calhoun. Normally a bed of activity, it was awfully quiet around the lake this time of year. It was to be expected; there was little call for swimming on a lake that was, for the most part, frozen over. The camera panned to a bench overlooking the lake. The silhouette of a woman sprouted from the bench’s shadow, her frame beginning just below the shoulders. While a hat adorned the shadow’s head, the woman’s hair crawled out from under, the tips dancing gently in the winter breeze. It was warm for a winter day, especially in the afternoon.
A tall figure walked along the sidewalk in front of the bench, taking their place next to the woman. The side profile was already cut; Dionysus’s beard was hard to mistake. This was a regular meeting place for the man, as he always enjoyed the scenic outlooks. This visit, however, would prove more difficult. “Glad you made it,” Dion said, breaking the silence.
The woman turned, facing Dion. “You asked, I came,” she said, matter-of-factly.
Dion’s expression soured; it had been some months since he had spoken to Amy Esteed, a nurse who took care of his mother and a woman whom he once shared a house with. He felt awkward; for the first time in several months, Dion was unsure where to start. “So…this weather is nice.”
Amy blinked at him, her expression softening. “Yes…warming up, for a change.”
The silence was deafening, the air was filled with tension. Both Dion and Amy were being formulaic in their responses, carefully guessing what the other would say.
“So…how is work?”
“Good. They reassigned me, but I still see your mother. She’s still improving, from what I’m hearing.”
“Yeah, the doctors have told us that she should be ready to be on her own in a few months. Though I’m sure she will miss you.”
Amy shook her head. “That’s silly. I was just her nurse; why would she miss me?”
Dion gave a knowing look. “Because she was more than just your charge. Don’t give me that line.”
“Oh, now we get right into it, huh?” Amy spat back. “You think you can sit there and tell me what I was to someone else? Bullshit, Dion, just bullshit.” Amy stood up, staring daggers at Dion. “I acted as her nurse, helped take care of her while she was rehabilitating, fell for the caring son who visited on a regular basis, and became mixed up in his life…until the son fell off the face of the planet for months.”
Dion buried his face into his hands. He knew this was going to be a difficult conversation, but each truth Amy drove into him left a scar, as though she were taking a blade and twisting into his side. “I know…I know that’s what you want to tell me, so you can distance yourself from me. To be honest, based on how I treated you all those months ago, I don’t really blame you for telling me off like this.” Dion looked up at Amy. Her eyes scanned the face of the man she loved once; his eyes tired, lines dotting his expressive face. His eyes lost the glow he had months ago; the excitement, the energy he had, was simply gone. “I didn’t come out here to just have polite small talk and be on my way. I wanted to give you my side of the story. I’m not expecting forgiveness…hell, I’m sure I will never earn that. But you do deserve to know why I did what I did. If you can just bear with me, I will explain everything.”
While she was still filled with anger, Amy did manage to calm down. “I have a few minutes to spare,” she said. Despite her strong feeling of animosity and hatred toward this man, she also could not keep her compassionate side quiet. She took a seat next to Dion, choosing to look out at the lake instead of stare at the man.
Dion took a deep breath. He was rehearsing what he wanted to tell her the last several days, but he was unsure how to explain it all to her. “I'm sorry, I just have to ask...I know you were looking into my eyes…but to me, it looked like you were trying to find something that had gone missing.”
“Well, yeah,” Amy replied. “You always had unique eyes. I have never seen anyone with purple irises before. It was part of what attra- “
“Wait,” Dion interrupted. “My eyes?”
“…Yes…you have purple eyes. When we were at the Dakota, those purple eyes were filled with life, purpose, fire. Its what attracted me to you in the end...why? What's so strange about that?”
“Amy…my eyes have always been brown.”
Amy turned to him, her expression shocked. When she looked, his eyes were indeed brown. “But…but I know I…maybe it was something…I-"
“Perhaps I should try to explain why I brought you out here,” Dion said, pausing before he recollected his thoughts. “Do you remember when I was part of The Brotherhood? I was accepted into a society of competitors that had lost their footing somewhere along the way. A man named Kevin Bishop took me in, showed me where I had gone astray. So many people wanted to treat us like a cult, and sure, Bishop treated the group as such for a while, but I can tell you that the group was nothing of the sort. Rather, we were a group that found solace and comfort in each other. I was struggling to cope with my issues with Albert Divine and his stranglehold on my livelihood that an escape was my only choice…and I took it.”
“When I stayed with The Brotherhood at Lester’s farm, I decided to do something I thought I would never do. You know I was named after the greek god Dionysus, right? I figured, as a joke, on a whim, I would strike out a few paces away from the farmstead and build a shrine devoted to Dionysus. I didn’t spend too long making the shrine; maybe a day or two since I had to help the others keep the farm up and running too. When it was done, I decided to spend some time preparing the space properly. I was out there every day, an hour at a time, preparing the space. It was about five days after I built the shrine…that I heard a calling.”
“I thought I was going crazy. Suddenly I’m hearing voices from somewhere, saying they were this god and that I should follow him willingly…or else. I remember another incident where some of the members of The Brotherhood weren’t thrilled with how I handled the situation with Jason Slasher…which is an entirely different can of worms I plan on dealing with soon…and they decided to attack me. I remember being choked out…but when I came to, I was still standing, and the other guy was on the ground, bloody and bruised. He wasn’t dead…but he had been beaten raw. It terrified me. For the first time in years, I felt real fear. I felt out of my own control. I didn’t know if I was just subconsciously secluding myself, or if I willingly chose to forget the emotions I normally have in those moments. Either way, I knew I couldn’t stay with The Brotherhood.”
“Months passed…I won the Trilogy Cup…I won the World Title…but the truth is, I don’t remember doing any of it. I heard the gentle reassurances that, yes, it really was me who held it together, handled his own business, and came out on top. But I was still in a haze. Just as quickly as I had won the title, it slipped through my fingers. My haze didn’t leave me that night. I chose to leave then and there, knowing full well that something was wrong. I remember the argument we had where you ultimately left. I remember saying I wouldn’t be able to see my mother, and you couldn’t understand why.”
“Well, the reason why is that something is wrong with me, Amy. Either I am suffering from some sort of illness or disease, or this is all just in my head. I personally think, however…that this possession is real. That Dionysus, for some reason, has decided to take up residence within my own mind; a purpose that, to this day, I still do not know. It could be just for kicks, he could have some greater purpose for me. But what I do know…is that he wants me back in that ring. I joined a new federation, one with both new and familiar faces. Maybe there, I can find the answers I’m looking for.”
“But that’s ultimately why I became so different. I was working on repressing that side of me, to the point where I had to bury myself completely in order to escape my old life. I know it was the wrong choice now…but given what I went through…you can see why I did what I did, right?”
Amy remained quiet throughout Dion’s entire explanation. She wanted to give Dion plenty of opportunity to explain his actions, but she also was unsure how to take all this in. He was possessed by a god? He beat a man to near death? His leaving had to do with his mental state? She was still trying to grasp how his iris could change color from brown to purple. “I…I really don’t know what to make of this, Dion. I mean…I work with mental health patients all the time…but this is really beyond what I can understand.”
Dion shook his head. “I know how it sounds. It sounds like I’m losing my mind, that hell, maybe I’ve already lost it. But I know that, after everything that we’ve been through, that you could at least assure me that I’m not insane.” He paused, laughing to himself hollowly. “Well, no more insane than anyone else, anyway.”
Amy cracked a smile, but quickly hid it away. “Look…if this is true…well, no, I don’t want to think this is true. How do I know that this isn’t just a big excuse?”
Dion nodded, understandably. “I know, this is really difficult to take in and understand. I’m not looking for you to just take me at my word without any kind of proof. I wanted to tell you because I know, with your medical background, you could at least investigate my condition, should I have one. I’m also going to look into this myself, and maybe between the two of us, we can find out what’s going on and put an end to it.” He looked over at Amy, his eyes heavy. “But whether you can trust my word or accept my explanation…well, that isn’t really something I’m expecting. I am hopeful that you can, but…well, given our history, it wouldn’t surprise me.” Dion stood up, using the bench as a support. He didn’t have great footing and nearly slipped but managed it on his own. He started on his way back to the car, leaving Amy to contemplate.
Please, Amy…please believe me…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Prepare yourselves
for the roaring voice of the God of Joy!”
― Euripides
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The scene transitioned to the interior of a study. An old leather chair sat in the foreground, the flicker of light dancing from the fireplace behind the chair. A single table sat next to the chair, an old book and bowl sat upon it. Sitting in the chair was Dionysus, holding onto a glass of wine. He was stirring the red liquid in his glass, watching the gentle arc travel along the side of the glass. “Ahh…nothing more relaxing than a quiet evening with your finest book, an excellent vintage, and a great book in front of a warm fire,” Dionysus began. He chuckled, taking a sip from his glass. He smacked his glass, muttering, “Simply glorious.” He set the glass aside, leaning forward in the chair. “I do enjoy these moments, where I can put my feet up and enjoy the calm before the storm. Surely, it would have been fantastic to become world champion…but my time will come. I will permit the sisters to decide when that time will be, for surely it will arrive sooner than anticipated.”
Dionysus cracked his knuckles. “For now, a new prize sits upon the horizon. The United States Championship. An opportunity to be a first champion still stands within my grasp. Of course, it will not be so simple as to come and obtain such a prize. I would need to contend with five other worthy opponents before I can lay claim to this glory. Even before this, however…there is the matter of proving my own worth. And that starts with the defeat…of Alexander Richards.”
Dionysus chuckled. “Oh, do forgive me, Mr. Richards. It seems you prefer to go by Alex these days. Your name is known to me, of course. The reputation, naturally, proceeds you. A respected world champion, a leader of men, a powerful and challenging contender. Power attracts power, you see, and I am looking forward to this opportunity. But I fear that, before we do battle, there is something you should know of me.”
Dionysus took hold of the bowl next to him, showing the contents to the camera. Inside were a myriad of small colored orbs, with plenty of reds, yellows and greens. Dionysus pulled out a red orb, holding in front of him, squinting his eye somewhat. “This, Mr. Richards…is a Gobstopper. It is one of my favorite candies. Do you know why?” Dionysus popped the gobstopper in his mouth. “It is due to the complexity of the sweet. It begins flavorful, fruitful, full of life and body. But then…it changes dramatically. The thick, sweet coating vanishes, revealing a tart interior and, on occasion, a new flavor entirely. Something unexpected, something that cannot be seen from the surface, but is still ever present; in a lot of ways, it is my favorite because it reminds me so much of the industry I have grown to love.” He laughed louder. “But then again, it may be drawn to you due to its close resemblance to those medications you took to change who you were…into this new…mask…that you chose to wear.”
Dionysus set the bowl aside, standing up. His eyes were a prominent purple, standing out in the light. “What most make of me is what is on the surface. They see a man, fiery and wild-haired, looking like he belongs in a refrigerator box instead of a wrestling ring, and not knowing the real man inside. They see a man who talks of gods speaking to him and the response is ‘He is out of his mind,’ or ‘He’s truly possessed and must be exorcised.'” Dionysus shook his head, wagging his finger in front of the camera. “That is not the case, Mr. Richards. See, by accepting that I am Dionysus, I really am just accepting a side of myself I normally would not. Admittedly, it really is only a side that comes out when I compete. And why should it be hidden? After all, it has propelled me to heights I never thought I would ever be.”
Dionysus set his hand to his side. “Ahh…but you refuse to believe what is in front of you, now do you? Well then…perhaps a demonstration is in order…”
He bowed his head down, extending his arms, outstretched and open handed. Slowly, his hands clenched, as they moved back to their sides. Dionysus held his head up, staring into the camera…his eyes still noticeably purple. A wicked grin crossed Dionysus’s face, as he burst into maniacal laughter. “You see, Mr. Richards? This is no act, no joke, no magic trick. This is simply who I am; Dionysus, Lord of the Vine, Master of Revels, Wonderful Philanthropist, Lord of the Dance…and your opponent.”
Dionysus moved to stand next to the table, reaching for the bowl of gobstoppers. “You see, Alex – I can remember your ‘true’ name, after all – it is a simple matter of acceptance. We both wandered different paths in discovering our identity. I sought guidance from a divine source, through teachings and meditation, while you resorted to using medication to forget yourself. My path, you will see, is where I accepted myself, while you…you simply could not. This…image, this Alex Richards…is really not what I am after. I do not want to face a man who needs – or needed, at the very least – to use some substance to completely mask and hide his true self.” He held the bowl at eye level, slowly tipping the bowl, and allowing the gobstoppers to roll freely onto the floor. Dionysus lowered the bowl, allowing a playful chuckle to come out. “Ahh…how sweet it is…to be truly free, alive, knowing who or what you truly are.”
Dionysus sat back down. “You see, I do not want to stand in that ring against Alex Richards, the candy coating. I want to stand in the ring with Alexander Richards, the tart center that makes up your true body. It seems obvious that you would like to have some assistance in this endeavor, but let me assure you that no outside interference, whether it is physical or metaphysical, will be in that ring. For you see, I do not require divine intervention to compete, nor do I need the favor of any of the gods to become a victor. I will simply act as your polar opposite. You would prefer to approach me as a flame? Then I shall act as water, dowsing your efforts. You would rather act as the serpents in Ireland? Then allow me to be the Saint Patrick that drives you forth. You would prefer to have the Lord of Linguine, the Master of Marinara, the Alpha Alfredo in your corner? Then I will simply be…hmm…well, I will simply be the breadsticks that ultimately soak up what remains. For you see, Mr. Richards, while the pasta can be powerful, it will, inevitably, run out. But the breadsticks, Alexander…the breadsticks last forever…”
Dionysus tilted his head to the side in thought. “Although…as I think on it, the analogy is broken down somewhat. Perhaps I should use a final analogy with which I am more familiar…ahh, but of course. You have always reminded me of Prometheus. You act within the interest that best serves you, choosing your side accordingly. In his tale, Prometheus stood with Zeus to quell the titans, thus freeing him from being punished like his own kind. He would then serve as protector of humankind, despite his status as a titan. Of course, he is best known for retrieving fire from Zeus, and being chained to a stone in order to have his liver eaten perpetually, for you see, the titan was immortal. However, not many know why he had to retrieve fire. It was his own mistake. Zeus took the flame away from humankind due to Prometheus’s trick to have Zeus’s offering be bone and fat rather than meat.”
Dionysus leaned forward again. “Mr. Richards…you remind me of Prometheus, for you act on your own interests, whether it be for yourself or for others. However, it also leaves you shackled, being pecked at from all sides, as we all know that deep within you is Alexander, the man you truly are. So permit me, Mr. Richards…no, Alexander…permit me to be your Heracles, and let me free you from your bindings. Then you shall see how sweet it is to enjoy the same freedom I do.”
“The choice, inevitably, is yours. I do hope you accept.”