It's A Wonderful Life. (999)
Dec 28, 2020 17:05:24 GMT -5
CJ Phoenix, Carter Shaw, and 3 more like this
Post by Downfall on Dec 28, 2020 17:05:24 GMT -5
He stood at the lip of the bridge, water lapping against the support struts like an inky black oil spill. White snowflakes drifted aimlessly, every which way, around him, clinging to his golden hair. Up here, the wind whistling around him spread the wings of his black duster around him. If he wasn’t hanging on to the cable he would pitch in that inky blackness and be lost. And really, wasn’t that the point?
He had it all in his hands right now, and yet even the high of his current run was turning into a monkey's paw of perverted dissatisfaction. He had the Television title locked in hand, the Lost Breed was rising, with him emerging from the pack... and yet, without it, he could only reflect on the pain he'd ever caused in his wake, the tears, angst that had formed between him and the one person who had his heart. In his long dark nights of the soul such as these, he often asked himself if his Rocky-road back to redemption of his career had cost him too much.
His head dropped in morose contemplation. Year by year the itch grew more as the knife twisted harder. What more was there than this, the endless cycle of pain and loss and regeneration? What more could he do?
A strong, firm hand gripped his shoulder. He looked back over his shoulder to find a thin, emaciated man with a face like parchment stretched over a skull. But he smiled kindly. “Friend, you don’t want to be doing that.”
“Yeah, okay. Who are you supposed to be, a guardian angel?"
"Actually, more of-" and he pointed downward.
"...You’ve come to take me, I suppose.”
“Is that what you want?” the man said conversationally.
“What I want's a world where everything wasn’t broken,” Danny snarled through frozen lips. “Where I don’t exist at the center of it all."
“Is that what you wanna see?”
Danny scoffed, rolling his eyes. “If you could make it happen, sure. But what do you get outta this good deed?”
“You heard the recorder, right?”
“Hot Cross Buns?”
“Every time it’s played, a demon gets its pitchfork.”
“You’re kidding… right?”
The man smiled kindly, “Step back from that ledge and I’ll show you a wonderful life.”
“...What do I call you, anyway?’
“Well, Mephisto, but I like Clarence better.” There was another few notes of recorder whistle, and then a FOOMP of fire swirled around them. In a flash, they were elsewhere. It was a house he knew well. He’d been arrested in front of it, drunk off his ass, once before. “This? This isn’t new. This house exists in the regular world. Alec and his wife, and his newborn."
He stopped, a pang of that old familiar pain stabbing his heart. “Look closer. In this world, you never existed. So you never brought a young model backstage at an IEA wrestling show..."
Dominoes fell. Michelle never gave up her modeling dream to be with Danny, he never left for Japan and broke her heart and they never spent five long years trying to make it work for her to turn away from him. He never befriended a geeky young backstage interviewer. He could do the math. Instead, the house that Alec inhabited was now occupied by a lonely man who was sitting on his couch wearing nothing but stretched elastic undies.
"But... he was happy-"
“You said you wanted a world where you never impacted anyone’s lives. But are you seriously not seeing that with the bad, comes a bit of good?”
“Bullshit.” He fumed, “What’s the point then? I only caused them both pain.”
“Actually, without you, she’s not doing so bad for herself. Let’s see.” And with that, another FOOMP of fire and they were gone. The old man, startled by the noise, attempted to get out of his chair too fast, slipped on the wooden floor, falling on his hip. He cried out, but only a lonely cat was there to greet him.
Meanwhile, they materialized in a ring of fire inside a large glass office building, in the middle of a bustling bullpen. A sign on the wall marked it as some fashion magazine, and there, amid the running paper reams, the interns fetching coffee, he saw her. She was beautiful in a severe red business pantsuit and heels that could cut. And then, as if a storm was approaching, he saw the woman emerge from the glass-paneled office at the end of the hall, sending the staffers scurrying. “TAYLOR!”
Michelle bit her lip, looking like she wished she was anywhere else, but the editor continued to ream her out.
He bristled. “Why's she taking this? Is this what Michelle’s life would turn out to be?”
“Pretty face isn’t all that gets you where you need to go. Now, I’m not saying you didn’t have your part to play in her career never taking off, but at the end of the day, she wasn’t cut out for it."
“Sit back and enjoy the schadenfreude, friend. Don’t you get it? You wanted to escape a life of pain and sadness and angst you caused your friends, but it happens anyway. Nobody gets their heart's desire. Everything turns out to suck, with or without you.”
Clarence looked unflinchingly in his eyes. “With or without you. The human heart itself is predestined for it’s own ruin, to take it to it’s own paths. It ends up the same way.”
FOOMP. The bridge, again.
“We are who we are, Danny. One way or another, we’re going to cause them all pain and heartache. Why not be a part of it?"
A beat, and then he looked over at his guardian devil. “I think you’ll get your pitchfork, Clarence.”
Clarence’s face split wide in a grin, and the flames started to lick around his feet. “Happy holidays, Danny.”
He looked down at the water, then smiled sardonically. It was a wonderful life, after all.
He had it all in his hands right now, and yet even the high of his current run was turning into a monkey's paw of perverted dissatisfaction. He had the Television title locked in hand, the Lost Breed was rising, with him emerging from the pack... and yet, without it, he could only reflect on the pain he'd ever caused in his wake, the tears, angst that had formed between him and the one person who had his heart. In his long dark nights of the soul such as these, he often asked himself if his Rocky-road back to redemption of his career had cost him too much.
His head dropped in morose contemplation. Year by year the itch grew more as the knife twisted harder. What more was there than this, the endless cycle of pain and loss and regeneration? What more could he do?
A strong, firm hand gripped his shoulder. He looked back over his shoulder to find a thin, emaciated man with a face like parchment stretched over a skull. But he smiled kindly. “Friend, you don’t want to be doing that.”
“Yeah, okay. Who are you supposed to be, a guardian angel?"
"Actually, more of-" and he pointed downward.
"...You’ve come to take me, I suppose.”
“Is that what you want?” the man said conversationally.
“What I want's a world where everything wasn’t broken,” Danny snarled through frozen lips. “Where I don’t exist at the center of it all."
“Is that what you wanna see?”
Danny scoffed, rolling his eyes. “If you could make it happen, sure. But what do you get outta this good deed?”
“You heard the recorder, right?”
“Hot Cross Buns?”
“Every time it’s played, a demon gets its pitchfork.”
“You’re kidding… right?”
The man smiled kindly, “Step back from that ledge and I’ll show you a wonderful life.”
“...What do I call you, anyway?’
“Well, Mephisto, but I like Clarence better.” There was another few notes of recorder whistle, and then a FOOMP of fire swirled around them. In a flash, they were elsewhere. It was a house he knew well. He’d been arrested in front of it, drunk off his ass, once before. “This? This isn’t new. This house exists in the regular world. Alec and his wife, and his newborn."
He stopped, a pang of that old familiar pain stabbing his heart. “Look closer. In this world, you never existed. So you never brought a young model backstage at an IEA wrestling show..."
Dominoes fell. Michelle never gave up her modeling dream to be with Danny, he never left for Japan and broke her heart and they never spent five long years trying to make it work for her to turn away from him. He never befriended a geeky young backstage interviewer. He could do the math. Instead, the house that Alec inhabited was now occupied by a lonely man who was sitting on his couch wearing nothing but stretched elastic undies.
"But... he was happy-"
“You said you wanted a world where you never impacted anyone’s lives. But are you seriously not seeing that with the bad, comes a bit of good?”
“Bullshit.” He fumed, “What’s the point then? I only caused them both pain.”
“Actually, without you, she’s not doing so bad for herself. Let’s see.” And with that, another FOOMP of fire and they were gone. The old man, startled by the noise, attempted to get out of his chair too fast, slipped on the wooden floor, falling on his hip. He cried out, but only a lonely cat was there to greet him.
Meanwhile, they materialized in a ring of fire inside a large glass office building, in the middle of a bustling bullpen. A sign on the wall marked it as some fashion magazine, and there, amid the running paper reams, the interns fetching coffee, he saw her. She was beautiful in a severe red business pantsuit and heels that could cut. And then, as if a storm was approaching, he saw the woman emerge from the glass-paneled office at the end of the hall, sending the staffers scurrying. “TAYLOR!”
Michelle bit her lip, looking like she wished she was anywhere else, but the editor continued to ream her out.
He bristled. “Why's she taking this? Is this what Michelle’s life would turn out to be?”
“Pretty face isn’t all that gets you where you need to go. Now, I’m not saying you didn’t have your part to play in her career never taking off, but at the end of the day, she wasn’t cut out for it."
“Sit back and enjoy the schadenfreude, friend. Don’t you get it? You wanted to escape a life of pain and sadness and angst you caused your friends, but it happens anyway. Nobody gets their heart's desire. Everything turns out to suck, with or without you.”
Clarence looked unflinchingly in his eyes. “With or without you. The human heart itself is predestined for it’s own ruin, to take it to it’s own paths. It ends up the same way.”
FOOMP. The bridge, again.
“We are who we are, Danny. One way or another, we’re going to cause them all pain and heartache. Why not be a part of it?"
A beat, and then he looked over at his guardian devil. “I think you’ll get your pitchfork, Clarence.”
Clarence’s face split wide in a grin, and the flames started to lick around his feet. “Happy holidays, Danny.”
He looked down at the water, then smiled sardonically. It was a wonderful life, after all.