Post by Dionysus on Nov 8, 2020 23:36:38 GMT -5
Oh dear... | ||
What have we here? | ||
Perhaps we made a mistake... | ||
Or perhaps... | ||
The mistake... | ||
...Was your own... |
"A blank canvas.
Vast...unexplored...an infinite possibility on one square of fabric. It is on such a canvas that we shape our lives. A stroke of the brush changes this void into form, and from this form, we can create whatever our minds and hearts desire. It is the potential on the canvas that excites many over all else; the ability to create...anything. This blank canvas...shows much more potential than you do, Mr. Ryder.
You pride yourself on being "The Truth," that "the truth always hurts," and that is the style in which you have forced...sorry, "impressed" upon us. Allow me, then, to give you a taste of your own medicine, Mr. Ryder. I will give unto you the truth you abide by. The truth is, you are as "by the books" as it gets; a man that heralds his own arrival, then proceeds to trip over their own boots. The truth is, an opportunity was placed at your feet, and you chose to squander it rather than grab it by both hands as if your career were on the line. After all, if you don't need to be here, then why are you here to begin with? If it is to show us what you are actually capable of, then like a dolphin on strike you're simply not clicking for me.
You may think I say this as a means to show why I am better; the battles I have won, the money I have made, and the respect I have earned in this locker room could fill a book. But rather than look at this as a means of offense, instead look at yourself, Mr. Ryder, and see the potential and possibility that I see in you. I see someone needing a chance to prove himself. I see a hunger buried deep inside, not allowing it to control, but is growing. I look at the canvas that is you, Mr. Ryder, and I can see that you will be humbled when we meet. Do not fear it. Use it. Let it fuel your hunger and desire to create your path forward.
You are capable of so much more. All you need do...is pick up the brush, and create your truth.
Vast...unexplored...an infinite possibility on one square of fabric. It is on such a canvas that we shape our lives. A stroke of the brush changes this void into form, and from this form, we can create whatever our minds and hearts desire. It is the potential on the canvas that excites many over all else; the ability to create...anything. This blank canvas...shows much more potential than you do, Mr. Ryder.
You pride yourself on being "The Truth," that "the truth always hurts," and that is the style in which you have forced...sorry, "impressed" upon us. Allow me, then, to give you a taste of your own medicine, Mr. Ryder. I will give unto you the truth you abide by. The truth is, you are as "by the books" as it gets; a man that heralds his own arrival, then proceeds to trip over their own boots. The truth is, an opportunity was placed at your feet, and you chose to squander it rather than grab it by both hands as if your career were on the line. After all, if you don't need to be here, then why are you here to begin with? If it is to show us what you are actually capable of, then like a dolphin on strike you're simply not clicking for me.
You may think I say this as a means to show why I am better; the battles I have won, the money I have made, and the respect I have earned in this locker room could fill a book. But rather than look at this as a means of offense, instead look at yourself, Mr. Ryder, and see the potential and possibility that I see in you. I see someone needing a chance to prove himself. I see a hunger buried deep inside, not allowing it to control, but is growing. I look at the canvas that is you, Mr. Ryder, and I can see that you will be humbled when we meet. Do not fear it. Use it. Let it fuel your hunger and desire to create your path forward.
You are capable of so much more. All you need do...is pick up the brush, and create your truth.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
ONE MONTH PRIOR
Inside the Chairman's Office of Necurat Corporation headquarters, Dionysus is pouring over a contract having been presented by his assistant, William Ross. Ross, who is sitting across from Dion, is fidgeting in his seat, absent-mindedly rolling his sleeve and tugging at his collar.
"You know I can hear all that rustling."
"S-sorry," William stuttered, placing both hands in his lap. "Its just...I really wasn't expecting to be called up here like this. You're...you're really sure about this? After your injury, I thought maybe you would eed-"
ONE MONTH PRIOR
Inside the Chairman's Office of Necurat Corporation headquarters, Dionysus is pouring over a contract having been presented by his assistant, William Ross. Ross, who is sitting across from Dion, is fidgeting in his seat, absent-mindedly rolling his sleeve and tugging at his collar.
"You know I can hear all that rustling."
"S-sorry," William stuttered, placing both hands in his lap. "Its just...I really wasn't expecting to be called up here like this. You're...you're really sure about this? After your injury, I thought maybe you would eed-"
Dionysus lowered the contract, staring daggers above the document at William. William averted his gaze, staring at his own shoes. "It is a normal business arrangement. Nothing more, nothing less. The paperwork is all standard procedure. Why would I need consultation on it? Can I not carry on with my own business without everyone doting on me?" A heavy pause weighed in the room, followed by a long sigh. "Apologies, William. You are only being helpful. All I ask is that this paperwork is sent off as soon as it is signed. That's really why you're here; you're my assistant, after all."
"And bodyguard," William reminded, "not to mention....maybe friend?"
Dionysus smirked at the directness of his colleague. "...Lets not push it just yet," he said, laying the folder containing the contract flat on the table. Pen in hand, Dionysus signed the document. "This should leave today; have the mailroom prepare for priority overnight mail and have it billed to my account. If they can't send it out, drop it off at one of the delivery sites," he instructed, closing the folder and sliding it across the desk to William. "Let me know when this has been done."
"Of course," William confirmed, grabbing the folder as he stood from his chair.
"Oh, and schedule a meeting with my therapist; these...psychosomatic headaches are flaring up again," Dionysus shouted as William reached the door. He grunted in pain as he held a hand to his head, the throbbing concussive against his skull.
Closing the door behind him, William strolled from Dionysus's office to the elevators. Once inside, he flipped open the folder containing the contract that was just signed, examining the document. William pulled out a cell phone, where a call was coming in.
"Ross.
...
...
Yes, I have it.
...
What did you have in mind?"
Dionysus smirked at the directness of his colleague. "...Lets not push it just yet," he said, laying the folder containing the contract flat on the table. Pen in hand, Dionysus signed the document. "This should leave today; have the mailroom prepare for priority overnight mail and have it billed to my account. If they can't send it out, drop it off at one of the delivery sites," he instructed, closing the folder and sliding it across the desk to William. "Let me know when this has been done."
"Of course," William confirmed, grabbing the folder as he stood from his chair.
"Oh, and schedule a meeting with my therapist; these...psychosomatic headaches are flaring up again," Dionysus shouted as William reached the door. He grunted in pain as he held a hand to his head, the throbbing concussive against his skull.
Closing the door behind him, William strolled from Dionysus's office to the elevators. Once inside, he flipped open the folder containing the contract that was just signed, examining the document. William pulled out a cell phone, where a call was coming in.
"Ross.
...
...
Yes, I have it.
...
What did you have in mind?"