Perception..paranoia...prying eyes....
Fade in: to a camera angle that appears to be upside down. The picture swings up and down, showing the night sky, filled with clouds that block the moon's full light from reaching down. The ground is covered with a thin, slick sheet of clear ice. Some areas have white snow covering the ice. The camera continues moving in this upside-down fashion, as it seems the cameraman doesn't realize. The footsteps stop, however, and the shot remains still, focused on a building on the opposite side of the street; it seems a standard city apartment complex. After a minute a small, momentary hissing sound can be heard, but it then disappears. Suddenly a force of some sort pulls the cameraman into an alley, causing the shot to rock around for a few seconds. When it settles, we can still see the corner of the building across the street, but hear low voices speaking where the camera is. A man comes out from around the corner of the building across the street, lighting up a cigarette it seems, concealed within a black trenchcoat and fedora, tipped down. The camera then shoots up at once, showing Watcher standing in a black hooded sweatshirt, the hood down, and black sweatpants. He has a black ski mask on.
Watcher: How long has this camera been on....
CM: I didn't even realize it was! Sorry...my finger must have slipped the switch over to start it.
Watcher: Oh..?
CM: I swear, man....no need to get paranoid.
Watcher pauses and tilts his head, taking a step towards the cameraman and speaking in venemous tone.
Watcher: Why would you say a thing like that....
CM: Hey, yo man....I...I'm just here to shoot a promo, that's all. You're freaking me out here! Come on, man...just...let's get this done, okay? I've heard things about this part of town....
Watcher: Really...and how often have you come around here to find out?
CM: I...never said I came here, man. Yo come on...what is this, hey? I'm just for promos....
Watcher again pauses, then sounds less volatile.
Watcher: Yes, I know. But I have to be sure....it's this part of town, after all, right?
CM: Y-yeah....right...so let's get out of here and do this somewhere else. There's a diner not far out of this area...
Watcher: No. I'll say what I have to here, then you can go.
There's a brief pause.
CM: Uh....alright, then. I guess I'll just....follow your lead, then.
Watcher backs off a little into the alley, his figure being slightly mixed with the shadows, but still discernable.
Watcher: Good. There's little time to waste and we've already wasted some. Maelstrom has spoken once more, and this time he opens up every so slightly with some of the man's thoughts. In this case, there is a man, and a beast, as I see it. That is because Maelstrom, you do have that beast inside of you. I think you explained it well, with your thoughts on 'perfect'...I simply am giving it a form. Perhaps not physically..but a beast within, that will hunger 'til you appease it. I find your analogy a bit off, as the Yankees are a team, and you are an individual. Part of the reason they are not hindered so much by loss is for the fact that they have a luxury that all of us in this sport do not. We cannot be given a substitute to fill our spot for a given match. We are each unique, and if someone is to face us, then substituting another in our place is not the same. That doesn't matter so much for the Yankees...especially the Yankees....because they are free to exchange players in positions, during a season, even during a game. But in wrestling, we must bare our burdens no matter what. So losing can have a more adverse affect on others' perceptions of us. But it is still perception, and that is subjective. However, as one of my mentors told me...perception is only as strong as the believer.
Watcher backs off some more, shadow eclipsing him completely, covering his form in darkness. His voice sounds a bit more muffled.
Watcher: But the more subjective perceptions can be cracked. Accurate perceptions have something to stand on. The latter has foundation, whatever it may be. Something to validate it. For instance, you may perceive me to be gone, if I simply ceased to speak. But because you can hear me, I am still here, am I not? That is the perception one might have, and it seems concrete....
Suddenly the cameraman spins around, showing Watcher standing behind him.
Watcher: ....but in actuality, that perception is more deceiving than one might think.
Watcher walks back into the alley and reaches down, picking up a tape recorder and stopping it.
Watcher: My point is, no matter how strong you may believe your perception to be true, it can be falsified. That was a simple example, and I don't mean to pin you with it, but I think you get my point. In wrestling terms, it means to never assume the unknown. Fact sheets and media reports would seem to be a credible source of information on you, Maelstrom, and perhaps even me, if there is any out there. But as we both seem to agree on, those reports don't mean so much as a nickel's worth. There is always the chance that information has been manipulated. I've quickly learned the past few years...always believed, since the first time I learned the lesson...that the best way to obtain information, is first hand. In this case, it would be to actually wrestle you, Maelstrom, and learn through that, rather than trusting any 'scouting report' the media has.
Watcher walks out towards the end of the alley, looking up at the cloud-filled night sky.
Watcher: You don't give yourself enough credit, Maelstrom. At least, from what your 'peers' say, and from what I've seen of you, there's more fact and less perception to your percentage than you'd have people believe. And given people's willingness to believe statistics and percentages...I think that's a deceiving perception of yours, that borders on advantage if not looked at more closely. I'm not saying you are as good as everyone says, but I don't think I'd trust your words as much as most. You have a way with words, the man does...and I'd rather be overprepared, than underprepared. Because as the days get closer, I can imagine the beast inside of you becoming more impatient. You cannot battle time, but it does not operate on time. It operates on lust...lust for gold, more than blood, correct? I think another deception you instantly provide for people...fans and opposition...is that you win with guts and brawn alone. Clearly, that is not the case. Because even when the man succumbs to the beast, it is not a complete consummation is it...the man still thinks for the beast. In that ring, even your greatest rage has a degree of calculation. That is something I've noticed about you...that sets you apart. And while I don't know to trust it completely, as it isn't from the preferred first hand source...my perception is that you are capable of such a feat. And so I should prepare for it.
Watcher crosses his arms, still looking skyway, and tilts his body to lean against a brick building. From the camera's angle, we can just make out the trenchcoat-clad man, who is looking in the camera's direction, but backing off slightly towards a building corner.
Watcher: I'll let you form your own perceptions of me, Maelstrom, if you choose to. But I'll tell you this...I have something of a beast inside of me, as well. It is not lusting for gold, however. It's desire is for release. For freedom. I have learned to control it; restraining it from coming out and controlling me. But not a moment passes when I do not feel it inside of me. It has all the fuel it needs to continuously press against my innards, trying to find some way to escape, because it fuels off of me. However, it does not only fight me. I have what might be called a symbiotic relationship with the beast in me. This beast has also, at times, helped me gain the strength and courage to go on. It has allowed me to continue living, rather than stopping dead in my tracks...or even more literally ending everything. That is why I am here...it is why I am here. For that continuing search for release, freedom. Except this time, there is very little chance that failure will be acceptable. This time I am playing a very dangerous game, and walking a paper-thin line. Before the matches, I have been torn at from within by the beast, the urge, the desire to achieve my goal. It almost haunts me, wherever I find myself, similar to your own beast. But when I step into the ring, there is a harmony between my internal and external. There is no doubt a coexistence during that time, because I am able to let the beast out, then. It can aid me in achieving my goal, and so I have no reason to fight it when I have the chance to get one step closer to the 'light' at the end of my misery. But the beast comes out in my will to go on, my striving to keep chance alive. I do for the beast, and it does for me. It is a symbiotic attachment when we unite in the ring. And when it is over with, I must contain it again, or it will try to think on its own. That can lead to horrible failure. Acting purely on desire, without thought to solidify the actions taken, is a foolish thing that almost asks for repercussions to come with it. So I control it, contain it until the next time I have a chance to move still closer...and closer....and you are the next chance I get, Maelstrom. Your beast and mine, they will clash as we will, in the ring...and only one can be satisfied for the moment.
Watcher pauses for a long moment, and peers out of the alley, towards where the trenchcoat-clad man was standing. He is nowhere to be seen. Watcher turns to the cameraman.
Watcher: Did you see anyone?
CM: Where..? Nobody's around that I know of....
Watcher: This is over.
Watcher snatches the camera from the startled cameraman, and as it points out of the alley, just for a second or two we catch a glimpse of the man in black trenchcoat and fedora, entering a taxi and closing the door. Black out.