Post by Jordan "Bullet Proof" Glass on Mar 8, 2007 22:24:16 GMT -5
The scene opens in a dark room. The window is boarded over with a single piece of plywood. The walls are simple white chalky drywall and the floor is just plain old floor boards with nails holding them in place. Through a crack in the board over the window comes a tiny ray of light. It shines upon the face of Jordan "Bullet Proof" Glass, who is sitting against a wall on the other side of the room. He is sat on the floor with his legs crossed. Between his smooth, moist lips hands a cigarette. His long black hair drapes around his masculine face, emphasizing his beautiful grey eyes, which seem to be bloodshot. His lips open wide enough to let out a cloud of smoke, then they close again around the butt of the cancer-stick. He smiled, pulling the cigarette from his mouth, and letting out one last puff of smoke before he snuffed it on his arm. He was wearing a black t-shirt and dark blue jeans with his signature black leather boots with white laces. He threw the butt of it onto the floor, then let his head fall back softly to rest on the wall. Each of his hands were beside him, keeping him balanced. He smirked slightly.
~ Jordan ~
I haven't slept since I left that damn hospital .. starting to wear me out, is what it's doing. Must be what they had me drugged on when I was in there .. some kind of after effect .. but god DAMN, I'm tired. This match is going to be a tough son of a bitch .. but I have to win it. There is no alternative, no other path, no back way out .. the one way I'm going into and out of this is victorious. Nothing is going to stand in my way. Not my fucking brain, not my fatigue, not me knee, not those fuckers I'm going against. Nothing is going to stop me. Nothing.
Jordan slowly stands up and begins to walk cautiously to the door, then stumbles. He looks frustrated. His face starting to twist. He turns and lunges at the plywood, putting his fist straight through it and through the glass on the other side as well. He screams with the pain of the glass cutting through his flesh. Then smiles, and surprisingly, laughs.
~ Jordan ~
Ah, that's better. Some pain to wake me up. Okay, here it goes ..
He pulls his hand back through the plywood, and walks toward the door, tiny drops of blood running off his hand onto the floor. He opens the door, and it reveals an outside world of white. The snow has completely covered nearly everything in sight. He smiles.
~ Jordan ~
Home sweet home, mother fucker.
He laughs as he turns and runs up over a small incline that surrounds a raised platform of snow. He follows a path that has been dug out by the inhabitants of the white house, of that which he is standing on the doorstep of right now. The doorstep is concrete painted blue, with a black swirly hand rail. The handrail has an extending pipe that goes straight up into the overhead outreach of roof to cover the step. Off this pipe, a clothesline is hung. In the yard, is a silver 2002 Pontiac Grand Am. He smiles.
~ Jordan ~
Welcome to the Glass household. This is where my mother lives. My father lives in St. Johns. My mother and father got divorced when I was fifteen. It wasn't easy, but I got through it. Let's go inside, shall we ?
He puts his right hand in his pocket so that his mother can not see his battered fist. As the camera moves in through the door, you can almost smell the freshly baked bread. Jordan smiles as he walks in and takes off his huge black boots.
~ Jordan ~
Mom, I'm here to see you. Are you here, or are you gone to Betty's?
A hysterical scream can be heard from the other room. In comes running a short, middle aged looking lady, with a pink sweater on and some blue dress pants. Her smile was from ear to ear.
~ Mrs. Glass ~
Jordan! You've finally come home. Oh son, I'm so glad to see you. I've got some bread baked, and I made some cookies yesterday. I have some leftover lasagna in the fridge. I have your favorite - -
Jordan puts up a hand to stop her, then gestures at the camera.
~ Jordan ~
Mom, I'm here shooting a promo for XVI. You know, that wrestling company I was telling you that hired me.
A look of clarity takes over Mrs. Glass' face. She smiles, and turns, walking into the kitchen from the porch.
~ Mrs. Glass ~
I suppose you're here to shoot a couple of scenes where you grew up. Go ahead, make yourself at home .. since you are home.
She laughs to herself as Jordan shakes his head disgracefully. He walks down over the stairs that are through a doorway, just beside the one into the kitchen. The camera follows him down into the main room of the basement, that is painted a burgundy color. He sits down on the couch, that is purple with a flower pattern overlapping the background. He looks around, smiling. He then removes his hand from his pocket and examines the wound.
~ Jordan ~
Damn, that's a doosy. Anyway, what I came here to talk about is .. my endurance. I have endured years upon years upon years of hell, and I have gotten trough it all. Right now, is another hard time in my life. Trying to make a name for myself in this business, sorting through some personal baggage, coping with the injuries that come with this job. It just isn't an easy task, but is still easier than most of the shit that I've gone through. My parents were never a happy couple, always arguing and bickering. No, not a happy couple at all. But when they got a divorce, it hit me like a fucking seven-forty-seven. My dad had to leave, and I missed him every fucking day, and I still miss him now. I always secretly resented my mother for doing what she did and the way she handled the situation, but I got over that too. Then, me and my girlfriend of four years got engaged when I was eighteen. The only problem with that was, she didn't know everything about me. She didn't know all of my little problems. That ended up getting to her, and she left me. That broke my heart. I was on anti-depressants until I was twenty one. Lately, she's been trying to get me back with her, saying that leaving me was the biggest mistake of her life. I don't know what to do about that .. should I take her back, or leave her to suffer? Anyway, not my point. My point is ..
Jordan reaches into his pocket, pulling out a box of cigarettes. He stops, and remembers his mothers opinion about him smoking, then puts his cigarettes back into his pocket with a sigh.
~ Jordan ~
Where was I? .. oh yeah. My point is that I dealt with that, and I can deal with any shit anyone of you bitches that are with this company can throw at me. I'll cope with everything, and sooner or later you guys will figure that out. Nothing that Versy, Johnny-boy, Jacqueline, Beast-boy or Drugy can take me off my track to ultimate domination in this federation. Nothing and nobody will stop the Bullet Proof when he's coming straight at you with the Shard's of Glass. So prepare to be sliced, bitch.
Jordan stands up, walks over to the stairs, and sprints up over them. He pulls on his boots, ignoring his mother, and walks out the door. The camera follows him, but can barely keep up with him because of how fast he is walking. He opens the driver side door of his blue 2007 Mustang GT and slams the gearshift into reverse, and kicks the acceleration pedal. He spins out onto the road, flicking the shift into first, and speeds down over the hill. The scene fades as his car fades out of focus ..
[OOC: The reason I described the house so well was because it actually is my house.
]
~ Jordan ~
I haven't slept since I left that damn hospital .. starting to wear me out, is what it's doing. Must be what they had me drugged on when I was in there .. some kind of after effect .. but god DAMN, I'm tired. This match is going to be a tough son of a bitch .. but I have to win it. There is no alternative, no other path, no back way out .. the one way I'm going into and out of this is victorious. Nothing is going to stand in my way. Not my fucking brain, not my fatigue, not me knee, not those fuckers I'm going against. Nothing is going to stop me. Nothing.
Jordan slowly stands up and begins to walk cautiously to the door, then stumbles. He looks frustrated. His face starting to twist. He turns and lunges at the plywood, putting his fist straight through it and through the glass on the other side as well. He screams with the pain of the glass cutting through his flesh. Then smiles, and surprisingly, laughs.
~ Jordan ~
Ah, that's better. Some pain to wake me up. Okay, here it goes ..
He pulls his hand back through the plywood, and walks toward the door, tiny drops of blood running off his hand onto the floor. He opens the door, and it reveals an outside world of white. The snow has completely covered nearly everything in sight. He smiles.
~ Jordan ~
Home sweet home, mother fucker.
He laughs as he turns and runs up over a small incline that surrounds a raised platform of snow. He follows a path that has been dug out by the inhabitants of the white house, of that which he is standing on the doorstep of right now. The doorstep is concrete painted blue, with a black swirly hand rail. The handrail has an extending pipe that goes straight up into the overhead outreach of roof to cover the step. Off this pipe, a clothesline is hung. In the yard, is a silver 2002 Pontiac Grand Am. He smiles.
~ Jordan ~
Welcome to the Glass household. This is where my mother lives. My father lives in St. Johns. My mother and father got divorced when I was fifteen. It wasn't easy, but I got through it. Let's go inside, shall we ?
He puts his right hand in his pocket so that his mother can not see his battered fist. As the camera moves in through the door, you can almost smell the freshly baked bread. Jordan smiles as he walks in and takes off his huge black boots.
~ Jordan ~
Mom, I'm here to see you. Are you here, or are you gone to Betty's?
A hysterical scream can be heard from the other room. In comes running a short, middle aged looking lady, with a pink sweater on and some blue dress pants. Her smile was from ear to ear.
~ Mrs. Glass ~
Jordan! You've finally come home. Oh son, I'm so glad to see you. I've got some bread baked, and I made some cookies yesterday. I have some leftover lasagna in the fridge. I have your favorite - -
Jordan puts up a hand to stop her, then gestures at the camera.
~ Jordan ~
Mom, I'm here shooting a promo for XVI. You know, that wrestling company I was telling you that hired me.
A look of clarity takes over Mrs. Glass' face. She smiles, and turns, walking into the kitchen from the porch.
~ Mrs. Glass ~
I suppose you're here to shoot a couple of scenes where you grew up. Go ahead, make yourself at home .. since you are home.
She laughs to herself as Jordan shakes his head disgracefully. He walks down over the stairs that are through a doorway, just beside the one into the kitchen. The camera follows him down into the main room of the basement, that is painted a burgundy color. He sits down on the couch, that is purple with a flower pattern overlapping the background. He looks around, smiling. He then removes his hand from his pocket and examines the wound.
~ Jordan ~
Damn, that's a doosy. Anyway, what I came here to talk about is .. my endurance. I have endured years upon years upon years of hell, and I have gotten trough it all. Right now, is another hard time in my life. Trying to make a name for myself in this business, sorting through some personal baggage, coping with the injuries that come with this job. It just isn't an easy task, but is still easier than most of the shit that I've gone through. My parents were never a happy couple, always arguing and bickering. No, not a happy couple at all. But when they got a divorce, it hit me like a fucking seven-forty-seven. My dad had to leave, and I missed him every fucking day, and I still miss him now. I always secretly resented my mother for doing what she did and the way she handled the situation, but I got over that too. Then, me and my girlfriend of four years got engaged when I was eighteen. The only problem with that was, she didn't know everything about me. She didn't know all of my little problems. That ended up getting to her, and she left me. That broke my heart. I was on anti-depressants until I was twenty one. Lately, she's been trying to get me back with her, saying that leaving me was the biggest mistake of her life. I don't know what to do about that .. should I take her back, or leave her to suffer? Anyway, not my point. My point is ..
Jordan reaches into his pocket, pulling out a box of cigarettes. He stops, and remembers his mothers opinion about him smoking, then puts his cigarettes back into his pocket with a sigh.
~ Jordan ~
Where was I? .. oh yeah. My point is that I dealt with that, and I can deal with any shit anyone of you bitches that are with this company can throw at me. I'll cope with everything, and sooner or later you guys will figure that out. Nothing that Versy, Johnny-boy, Jacqueline, Beast-boy or Drugy can take me off my track to ultimate domination in this federation. Nothing and nobody will stop the Bullet Proof when he's coming straight at you with the Shard's of Glass. So prepare to be sliced, bitch.
Jordan stands up, walks over to the stairs, and sprints up over them. He pulls on his boots, ignoring his mother, and walks out the door. The camera follows him, but can barely keep up with him because of how fast he is walking. He opens the driver side door of his blue 2007 Mustang GT and slams the gearshift into reverse, and kicks the acceleration pedal. He spins out onto the road, flicking the shift into first, and speeds down over the hill. The scene fades as his car fades out of focus ..
[OOC: The reason I described the house so well was because it actually is my house.
]