Trust That This Should Never Slip Your Mind

Two members of Renaissance sit on opposite ends of the spectrum of allegiance but also opposite sides of the press conference’s table.  The eyes of The Gravity Manipulator are padlocked and unyielding in their glance toward The Baller. Entire audience of reporters and other press here and they’re doing this.

Ace was groomed into a metaphorical guard dog that itches too quickly to bite but also has no greater pleasure in life than obedience. Why wouldn’t he lay himself across a gap for Lipnick to walk across, as if he was not human at all? In this entirely, John Lipnick is his conservator, his savior.

All of Lipnick’s sweet sympathy leaked into Ace’s ears and have coated his brain with influencing warming music that he has no reason not to follow. Trust is in storage and is in bulk.

Ace believes in the truth Lipnick crafted individually for him.

Diamond truthfully doesn’t believe in half the shit John has to say. Maybe some of it. Great combo of tag champions yeah?

Another truth is that success sells for dirt cheap for anyone that sides with Lipnick. Collecting water by just putting your bucket out in a storm type of sale.

The Mastermind didn’t do anything more than agree with him and in that moment Chris just needed that. The therapy Johnny gives to special individuals wasn’t as expansive and mind wrenching compared to the others. His doctor’s appointments were Tuesday surprises he didn’t stay up all night thinkin about, nah nah they just happened whenever and he went. No prescription needed for Diamond, no witch doctor treatments.

Ain’t no way in hell he’s swallowing whatever this guy offers unless it benefits him. The worms that fest within each and every gift that Lipnick bestows have a disgusting habit of squirming into the head and nesting inside the cerebral cortex. Throwup inducing if you don’t take that as a metaphor, still stomach wrenching if you take as a metaphor and you realize how much influence Lipnick didn’t earn but rather carved into Robert Cross.

Maggots festered over the domain of his brain. With an infection like that, the bagged man hiding his face is warranted.

Using the term man lightly in this situation. Humanity was forgotten to be placed back in when Cross was locked in that basement without any opioids undergoing every painstakingly personally made for his history psychological surgery. Removed so much of him and forgot to return a lot of it.

He slowly yet not even steadily stumbles out onto stage. His eyes are flashbanged to the BPM of a million a minute with all the unprotected flashes from the cameras unleashed upon his eyes. That’s a sour pain that makes you recoil and nearly fall over. Cover your eyes and wish you were hiding under a blanket. But Cross? All he does is stare into it. He experiences suffering like anyone else. But what’s different is how much he cares about it.

His retinas are scorched to no reaction, no blink, no wrinch. It’s uncomfortable how he just ignores it, how his very eyeballs could be smoking and the words he would scream out in anguish would be..

Nothing at all. He doesn’t speak. By choice.

Yet all that inhuman expression is thrown off by the most trivial and most human of emotions. Disdain. Robert approaches the seat next to Diamond, glances down at it then instead chooses the second seat next to Ace. He made that decision. Historical reasons you could imagine, Lipnick couldn’t tear everything out of him. No matter how much he may have wished to.

The two former Ballers share that all so familiar staredown they always fall into.

Little bit ago the two were finally together, working together to get the tag team championship isn’t that so sweet?

Then Robert Cross purposely decided to win by countout, meaning they didn’t actually achieve anything.

The Bagged Man’s breathing is scattered, uncontained. Heavy breaths followed by quick exhales or the inverse with no pattern. His head rattles uneasily like there was a bubble being popped behind his neck every three seconds, vibrating down his spine in the most intolerable way.

Before long Cross is shivering just at the presence of him, the two haven’t been close to each other since that assault on Kwame and he was much too occupied to focus on Diamond.

*pop*

Diamond is here for two reasons. Lipnick sugar coated his failures and played to his well-known ego. He isn’t here for….

Whatever the hell this relationship is intended to be.

*pop*

This man-no whatever this husk is- put him in a mask but now he bears one as well. Now he sits beside him, having cost him the incentive he signed up for in this club AKA success. Now him, HIM, that THING is costing him it yet hasn’t said a word the entire time about it. Ace hasn’t approached things when his whole occupation to the group is to be a taskmanager of a sort. Nothing, the “head of the family” hasn’t approached what happened at the hands of Par Excellence.

*pop*

Who’s to say this isn’t another plan that’ll be explained with a seven page essay tirade by Lipnick? Who’s to say the “trust” Diamond paid in full with the price of his reputation tumbling down by being associated with these freaks is being repaid with “trust” back in full?

*pop*

There’s no interview being asked of Cross or Ace yet always when there needs to be a scolding or reminders of faith his door is the one that is knocked upon. What’s to EVEN SAY that the next “interview” isn’t a flashback to the one that caused SO MUCH to go wrong with his career?! The one where the man he has to act buddy buddy with betrayed him?

*pop*

SO FOR HIM TO-

John Lipnick:
Sit your asses down. The two of you! You build people up and they act like this to ya! LISTEN TO THE LESSONS I SPEAK OF WHEN I SAY TO RELAX!

That was going to be a mistake of the **two** of them. Not Robert and Diamond though, Diamond and Ace. Because the paranoia theory Diamond had forged in his head was about to be hammered down but not by Cross, but by Ace. Who met him again eye to eye when he stood up in his breakdown toward being next to Cross again. Possibly plotting on putting him down, his own tag partner in the name of Lipnick. Even If he had not ordered it.

That deed wouldn’t have been done for Robert who barely managed to compose himself, the growing jealousy toward the favorment of Cross even though he was the first man to ride into battle with Lipnick always rubbed him the wrong way. But he follows directions, that’s all he does.

He sits his ass down.

Diamond halts for a second, digesting what just happened in his rush. He shakes his head and just slumps back into his seat, clearly bothered. Why wouldn’t he feel some sort of way if his own tag partner probably could have managed to make a lunge at him tonight? Lipnick paused him, but what about later?

Since reporters don’t have the special ability to see the inner workings of man by just watching them, they move on from that bizarre occurrence quickly. They all believe Renascence is just an odd bunch of folk; this falls in their alley. Nothing special they say to themselves, just quirky.


For Lipnick however, that was all a 650 pound headache, enough to almost make the man fall down to his knees and scream to the gods in anger. He adores his media days, the occasions where he can just talk and win some more people over. Easy for him, he plans the whole thing in his head. Does some quick research on who’s intending, checks Facebook, gets some family info and he follows a script to be relevant and cool. Hip with the kids? As much as he can manage to be with his balding head and creepy stalker vibe he reeks off. And yet that creepy balding stalker gets these people to eat out of his hands? This is a talent, a craft. He excels in it. So the plan in his head is:

“” Medium Sized crowd, mostly men. There are few women, as expected, but that lady in-””

The expressions on the crowd gathered here today are different than they usually are. Yes, something is off here. Instinctively his first thought is to check out Diamond to see if he's throwing things off but the new guy is just bored and playing with a pen. That’s right, even if he’s new he gets that these moments are only for Lipnick. They all get that, it isn’t about them. It isn’t about them on purpose, they aren't as smooth as John. That's what he made them think anyway.

Why oh why then are the faces of these unpersuaded lie spreaders so bothered? Is he not the featured attraction? Well no, that isn’t a question he has, he just isn’t the shooting star today. That bothers him, really irks him how he, the featured name of last season, is now just another name. First pick yet people wanna yab about Dante Tatum. He beat that suddenly angry and evil manlet in like a minute a year or something ago. Too bad nobody wants to bring that up.

Perhaps it’s Val and Santos they’d rather see? His lying game with Val ran it’s course. His route to control and influence is by changing truths until they benefit him, making the whole world take what he believes as fact. It worked with everyone besides Val. That woman was gone when he arrived yet when she returns she exists as a parallel to him that contrasts his own influence. Val finds the truth and works with it for her own gain, experiments and research. The past is a tool for her to work with. The research and experiments prove that, this whole investigation proves it too. They’re different sheepherders that bump horns in their mere ideology. One wants to change the past, the other works with it. Besides that, they could even be seen as similar people.

What isn't similar is the fact one of them had more success attention wise than the other tonight, powerbombed off stage and still won that battle.

The tongue in cheek “oooOOoooOoooh did I do it you’ll never KnoooOoOoOoOw” game that John was playing he prayed would never end. Hoped that Val would never find the answer to this mystery and played into his coyness more. She did though and that leaves him…

Uninvolved in one of the biggest narratives in the whole company right now.

Oh the humanity….

Even if he’s on his second home the stage, that’s bothersome in an exhausting fashion. He takes his two hands and rubs them down the sides of his weathered face and lets out a big sigh. That sigh is met with a gasp from the same woman he was figuring out the best approach to appeal to.

He was the one ruining the energy of his favorite moments! The times he gets to talk!

He takes a glimpse at his left hand and he remembers what he dismissed.

Adam Valentine busted him open just above his eyebrow in their match earlier. He never got that checked out.

Some fresh but mostly dry blood was scratched off by his hand. His head was too focused on the draft and the rest of the show to stop and nurture its open wound. Yet another thing today that has gone wrong for The Great Redeemer.

Could only imagine what a new viewer would say about the sight of the four men at the table right now.

One is as dapper as can be and looks as if he’s about to run over to his savor and stitch that cut himself.

One has his identity protected by a bag even though we all know who he is. On his torso is a very old jacket that means more to him that he could say right now.

One is in a tracksuit with his name on it and still just looks unbothered and like he just wants to blow this event off and head home.

One is still in his wrestling gear just looking saddened at the sight of his own blood from a gash he was too distracted to take care of.

This image of the men lasts longer than The Mastermind would hope but he isn't stopping it from dragging on. There’s no snap to a smile to signal “the show must go on!” from Lipnick. For once, he just seems lost in the show he wishes to be the main attraction of.

It’s uncanny.

More uncanny to Lipnick is the tapping on his shoulder from a stagehand. He turns his head to see what it’s about only to be met with her throwing up two fingers and pointing to them in unison.

Two minutes remain for this segment of the show.

That’s correct, they weren’t headlining this thing. They were opening it.

Sort of like how Lipnick should have been the opening world champion to Shockwave after winning the right to fight for the belt before Kray decided on running away to wherever that psychopath decided to go.

Pisses him off. Everything is pissing him off today.

John Lipnick:
You don’t tell me how much time I have left okay? I tell you how much I am going to talk and you adjust and put on those sad puppy eyes and go on your knees and whimper to whoever’s “NEXT UP” as if anyone could top me and you squeal to them “Sorry! Mr. Lipnick said he was going to take a little longer this time! Please understand!” and then they nod in approval since they should get by now that I'm the only one that has anyTHING of any substantial value to SHARE!

The lady is taken back and her eyebrows poke down. She’s bothered, as anyone would be. Yet she knows she isn’t the one that should be embarrassed here. No no no, she gets it. Lipnick is the one that should be embarrassed by doing that. She can’t lose her job. Nothing she did there was wrong. It’s a shame that while Lipnick would usually just move on from something as small as that, he isn’t this time.

Because he’s going to push HEAVY for her to be fired for that.

John Lipnick:
I’ll talk then, talk about this flesh wound on my forehead here since that’s all your eyes seek to focus on like you’ve never seen blood. I beat Adam Valentine like I beat Joseph Santos with a Camel Clutch. That’s no Sweet Embrace and that’s no dance with me, that’s a secondary maneuver. Keep that Sweet Embrace locked in the safe until I need it and when I need it I win with it because I made Amber Reed go to sleep and I made Bob Luger choke on his spit with it.

Beat nearly everyone here, beat nearly everyone returning here. The new guys on the other hand we ain’t GETTIN to see Lipnick against them because LIPNICK IS TOO VALUABLE FOR IT! Fell on my knees preaching to y’all that I want wings. I want to ascend beyond the disgusting nature of man and inspire you all to be kinder to people.

That was Mr. Lippy’s goal as the king of this place. Something mutually beneficial for all of us, much more noble than Johnny Cloudcutter’s goal of WHO EVEN KNOWS WHAT THAT BOY’S GOAL IS?!

Yet the king retired because everything startin looking new and shiny now? I’ll pledge you this with a full and ethical heart, I will never leave until my goal is completed. Amber Reed will never be herself until I decide. The day where finally, all you miscreant non believers wipe the sweat off your head because I decided I don’t want my world title back isn’t ever going to dawn. I make my fate and I make the fate that everyone has to follow. Scribble doooown in your notebooks or your laptops or on your skIIIN this upcoming soooonnng!

Dante Tatum was just another part of my streak. Perry Heenan doesn’t remix the song and give it a new melody all he does is try to make Tatum walk again on his bad knee. Did not have to face the torment I went through with Kwame to get his shot at this upcoming championship scramble that was made by someone that I believe never watched the show since you just have to give what I deserve back and everything is okay doooOkkey and I help run this brand! Rhys doesn't either. Neither does Michael Hawk. Neither does Barmore. None of them deserve it.

Tailcoat Val! Tailcoat Val! She’s hot right now yeah big mystery solved woah woah WOAH WOAH!


Well guess what? Legit, being hundred with y’all? I thought it was Santos too after I broke his back and all he had was excuses and promises of revenge like the mad man he is. My neurons were firing off because there was no way it was my beloved boy Diamond so I had to figure this mystery out myself for US. Y’know know why I poked my head into it and teased the possibility of doing such a diabolical act?

You need to know, it’s a lesson.

It’s always okay to bother scheming wretches like that. Like how it would have been the utmost acceptable if I was the one that made Kray go missing. I didn’t do it, I forgave the unfortunate stinker for who she was because I am a forgiving man.

W-W-WHAT IM SAYING is…

People like that deserve the most suffering you can give them. I am nothing more than an idol, the saint you can all look up to.

The Seventh Circle Of Hell is that of violence. Hell is the ultimate retribution toward the dead. That leaves an open isle for damnation for the living.

Us

We

Together

Citizens of god’s country, The United States Of America.

Humans

Must take upon the responsibility of the executioner if we want to grow and find true peace.

So I make this declaration of execution toward anyone that wants to stop John Lipnick from standing at the podium above the heavens speaking his gospel to the weak and the ill…

All good doings you may have committed, all wrongdoings you purposely took act in are null when compared to the cardinal sin that is…

Not allowing John Lipnick his spotlight to save everyone. Pausing the idol’s tale of salvation.

And for that, staple those eyelids open if you fear you may forget because the wrath of forgetting is worse than remembering here…

Renascence willllllll be your Seventh Circle!

The camera obsessed maniac then makes himself look what they call him, insane. With his two hands he tips over and heaves the table in front of him sideways with a loud clash that only follows with waves and waves of epileptic flashes from the lens he desires so much to please. Ace Reeves panickedly runs over the table and flips it back over to play damage control but it is much too late.

The screaming and movements of excitement opened up that wound again which only sets up another disturbing photo opportunity for Mr. Lippy, him standing straight with his arms spread with his open cut leaking blood down the side of his face. His crooked teeth shown off by lips curved in the most cursed of smiles.