Rejection and Contempt [AotA3 RP #1]
Jul 19, 2021 23:04:15 GMT -5
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Post by Donzig on Jul 19, 2021 23:04:15 GMT -5
Donzig sat in the darkened, slowly decaying room in the once proud Victorian house he shared with Sinclair. He reclined on the battered antique wingback chair, his fingers tapping against the worn cracked leather of the arm as he tilted his head to glare about him. He shrugged, leaning forward as he clasped his hands before him with his elbows on his knees. He shook his head, and then growled in a low voice. 'My conscience hath a thousand several tongues, And every tongue brings in a several tale, And every tale condemns me for a villain.'
Donzig shook his head again, and he leaned back in that chair once more. A hand lifting to rub his knuckles against the chin of his mask, and he said nothinbg for a long moment. Then he shrugged before he continued, rolling his shoulders. 'But all I have done? I did for NPW haven't I? But how was I repaid? With contempt, with disrespect, with insults?'
Donzig slid to his feet, and his booted feet hammered against the old boards of the crumbling house. And he stalked back and forth, pacing restlessly as he looked about with a tilt of his head. Snorting as he folded his hands behind his back, watching the small fire burning on the hearth before he rolled his shoulders. A hand lifted to wipe across the mantle, dragging though the dust before he continued. 'When it came time for A Call to Arms? Was I asked to represent NPW? No. I was ignored, I was left out in the cold! Despite the fact that I led a rag tag team to defeat the Dark Stars! And when it came time for praise for the NPW stars who were in Philadelphia, did anyone mention Donzig?'
A pause.
'No, no, no.' Donzig hissed, and he turned to pace away from the fireplace once more. 'No one from this company even called to see if I was okay after my battle with Rob Riot. But they called to sign him and his fucking crew of idiots didn't they, eh?'
Donzig slowly walked around the room, and soon paused at a rather dusty looking window. His masked face was reflected in the glass, and he muttered to himself. 'At Overheated I challenged Bloodied Fox, and as so many people in NPW are so quick to point out? I didn't win.' A hand lifted, waving dismissively before he continued with a tilt of his head. 'But did NPW support me? Did it honor one of their own who would rise up to challenge a champion like Fox? Did they praise somoene who went out there and established a new standard? Someone who stole the fucking show?'
Donzig shook his head, and he turned away from that window. 'No. But they found time to praise Old Man Family Drama Lizard, and of course that pretender D. Fuck, Steve Awesome got more respect than I did! But it is what it is, I see that Gus is afraid of greatness. He has to back his little clique doesn't he? His little handpicked champions.'
Donzig walked back to his chair, and he settled back onto it. He reclined slowly, and his fingers dragged across the worn fabric before they tore at them. Tugging and pulling at the tattered and ripped leather, his head tilting as he watched the dancing shadows cast by the fire. He hissed, clearly lost in thought before he shrugged again. 'As I laid there in that hospital in Philly, as I watched them dig the tacks from my flesh. as I watched them dig broken pieces of glass from my skin, blood running from the wounds I realized that no one in NPW gave a fuck. I realized as my so called friends the Revenants never came into the room? They didn't care either!'
Donzig lifted his hand, rubbing his fingers together as he thought. 'As I watched them sew my mortal form back together, and the weakness left my body? I notice that Freakke was not there either. And so as I watched Sinclair sit in the corner, the only person in the world who wept for the Scourge? I knew what I had to do! What needed to be done, eh? That has always been a gift of mine, I always know what to do. And I know why to do it!'
His hand slammed down in a fist, battering on the arm of the chair. Donzig reclined again, shifting in the chair with a slow roll of his shoulders. 'And so when someone walked into that room, and they made me an offer? I took that offer. I accepted my place, my destiny, that all of you people made so clear to me! You rejected me, you cast me aside! You didn't appreciate what you had! And so I joined the KGB, I joined forces with Armand and Soutter.'
His voice had risen to a near shriek, and he took a deep breath as he tilted his head to watch the fire again. 'And yet? I asked them to make a place for my friend Freakke, for my partner Freakke, for my ally. And he rejected me! He had a chance to be great, and instead he turned his back on me! And everyone thinks I should feel guilty? I should take the blame because Freakke is a coward! Is that it?'
Donzig took a deep breath, and a hand rose to adjust his mask. He let his hand fall to the arm of the chair again, his fingers digging at the worn leather as he sat for a moment lost in thought. And he shook his head, hissing before he continued. 'No, no, no. They say that a child denied the love of his village will burn it down to feel it's warmth? Well, that wasn't my doing either. And at August on the Atlantic? I am going to show the Carnival King the error of his ways, but he is just the first.'
Donzig shook his head again, and he leaned back in that chair once more. A hand lifting to rub his knuckles against the chin of his mask, and he said nothinbg for a long moment. Then he shrugged before he continued, rolling his shoulders. 'But all I have done? I did for NPW haven't I? But how was I repaid? With contempt, with disrespect, with insults?'
Donzig slid to his feet, and his booted feet hammered against the old boards of the crumbling house. And he stalked back and forth, pacing restlessly as he looked about with a tilt of his head. Snorting as he folded his hands behind his back, watching the small fire burning on the hearth before he rolled his shoulders. A hand lifted to wipe across the mantle, dragging though the dust before he continued. 'When it came time for A Call to Arms? Was I asked to represent NPW? No. I was ignored, I was left out in the cold! Despite the fact that I led a rag tag team to defeat the Dark Stars! And when it came time for praise for the NPW stars who were in Philadelphia, did anyone mention Donzig?'
A pause.
'No, no, no.' Donzig hissed, and he turned to pace away from the fireplace once more. 'No one from this company even called to see if I was okay after my battle with Rob Riot. But they called to sign him and his fucking crew of idiots didn't they, eh?'
Donzig slowly walked around the room, and soon paused at a rather dusty looking window. His masked face was reflected in the glass, and he muttered to himself. 'At Overheated I challenged Bloodied Fox, and as so many people in NPW are so quick to point out? I didn't win.' A hand lifted, waving dismissively before he continued with a tilt of his head. 'But did NPW support me? Did it honor one of their own who would rise up to challenge a champion like Fox? Did they praise somoene who went out there and established a new standard? Someone who stole the fucking show?'
Donzig shook his head, and he turned away from that window. 'No. But they found time to praise Old Man Family Drama Lizard, and of course that pretender D. Fuck, Steve Awesome got more respect than I did! But it is what it is, I see that Gus is afraid of greatness. He has to back his little clique doesn't he? His little handpicked champions.'
Donzig walked back to his chair, and he settled back onto it. He reclined slowly, and his fingers dragged across the worn fabric before they tore at them. Tugging and pulling at the tattered and ripped leather, his head tilting as he watched the dancing shadows cast by the fire. He hissed, clearly lost in thought before he shrugged again. 'As I laid there in that hospital in Philly, as I watched them dig the tacks from my flesh. as I watched them dig broken pieces of glass from my skin, blood running from the wounds I realized that no one in NPW gave a fuck. I realized as my so called friends the Revenants never came into the room? They didn't care either!'
Donzig lifted his hand, rubbing his fingers together as he thought. 'As I watched them sew my mortal form back together, and the weakness left my body? I notice that Freakke was not there either. And so as I watched Sinclair sit in the corner, the only person in the world who wept for the Scourge? I knew what I had to do! What needed to be done, eh? That has always been a gift of mine, I always know what to do. And I know why to do it!'
His hand slammed down in a fist, battering on the arm of the chair. Donzig reclined again, shifting in the chair with a slow roll of his shoulders. 'And so when someone walked into that room, and they made me an offer? I took that offer. I accepted my place, my destiny, that all of you people made so clear to me! You rejected me, you cast me aside! You didn't appreciate what you had! And so I joined the KGB, I joined forces with Armand and Soutter.'
His voice had risen to a near shriek, and he took a deep breath as he tilted his head to watch the fire again. 'And yet? I asked them to make a place for my friend Freakke, for my partner Freakke, for my ally. And he rejected me! He had a chance to be great, and instead he turned his back on me! And everyone thinks I should feel guilty? I should take the blame because Freakke is a coward! Is that it?'
Donzig took a deep breath, and a hand rose to adjust his mask. He let his hand fall to the arm of the chair again, his fingers digging at the worn leather as he sat for a moment lost in thought. And he shook his head, hissing before he continued. 'No, no, no. They say that a child denied the love of his village will burn it down to feel it's warmth? Well, that wasn't my doing either. And at August on the Atlantic? I am going to show the Carnival King the error of his ways, but he is just the first.'
