Post by Furious Julius Fairweather on Feb 1, 2022 23:59:07 GMT -5
Things were getting out of hand, that much was clear to Marissa Covington. At first, being assigned to keep tabs on Julius Fairweather seemed like a simple task. All she had to do was make sure that Winston Winfield’s journey didn’t lead him to some ancient relics, but she had underestimated his resourcefulness because that’s exactly what happened. Their first few meetings only succeeded in further convincing Marissa that there was more to Julius than just a smooth-talking troublemaker. She saw his cleverness, strength, and his kindness, even if he tried to bury that last trait where no one could see it.
It was her decision to recommend him for membership in The Purple Reign, and because of that, he had gotten tied up with The Illuminati. He was no longer the man she had started to know, at least part of the time. Now he was dancing between personalities like a starving man making routine trips back to the dessert bar at a Golden Corral. She couldn’t help but feel responsible, and as such, she was determined to make things right. With her own resources limited without the support of her superiors in the celebrity cult known as The Purple Reign, she made a trip to Paisley Park in Minnesota, or more specifically, to the series of hidden tunnels and chambers that laid below the estate.
Getting an audience with the Secret Society Leader formerly known as Prince wasn’t always easy, but Marissa got the feeling that he fancied her as he always made time for their private conversations. From immediate appearances however, it seemed as if this meeting wasn’t going to be like the previous ones. Prince was laying on a king-sized bed adorned with pillows and silk blankets, all in various shades of purple. He was shirtless and propped up on the pillows, while a pair of bare-naked women took turns feeding him grapes. It was awkward to say the least, but Marissa did her best to keep her game face on as she addressed her leader.
“Your eminence, I need to speak with you about Julius Fairweather…”
She watched as Prince rolled his eyes while one of the naked women slowly pressed a grape between his lips.
“Marissa, my sweet, I think we’d all be more comfortable if you shed the garments of society and joined me on the royal platform of ecstasy.”
Prince had always been eccentric in his leadership, but Marissa had thus far avoided taking her clothes off in his presence and she wasn’t about to start now.
“I’m sorry, my liege. I’m afraid this business is rather urgent, and we don’t have time for ceremonies. Julius Fairweather…”
“Yes, yes, yes…” he interrupted. “I’m well aware of Julius’ current struggles, but I don’t see how it’s any of my concern. He turned down an offer to stand with me in The Purple Reign, which means his problems are not my responsibility. Perhaps if he had joined us, he wouldn’t have fallen to The Illuminati’s torturous methods.”
Prince turned his head to accept another grape as the other naked woman caressed his bare chest.
“I…understand you were disappointed when he turned down your offer to represent our society in professional wrestling, but that doesn’t mean we should let The Illuminati have their way with him. Their experiments have triggered a psychotic break in Julius, and so far, Agent Fatone has reported on three separate personalities emerging.”
The leader of The Purple Reign rolled his eyes yet again.
“I wanted to recruit Johnny Levy. He wrestles, has Hollywood connections, and is at least one eighth Jewish. Now that would have been the perfect recruit…”
“Sir, please. I can’t save Julius on my own. If you could at least assign me a scientific expert…”
Prince reacted with a heavy sigh, actually turning away from an offered grape to look Marissa in the eyes.
“Fine. If it will ease the tension in your sexy body, I can give you access to one of our scientists, but that’s all you’re getting. Julius chose his path, and if he becomes an Illuminati puppet because of it, I won’t lose any sleep.”
Marissa gave Prince a grateful smile and slightly bowed her head out of respect.
“Thank you, your grace…”
Before she could finish, Prince continued.
“Make your way to the garage. The Great Communicator of Science will be waiting for you there.”
For a moment, Marissa was taken aback. Perhaps she had misheard him?
“The Great…you don’t mean…”
“Yes, Marissa. That’s exactly who I mean. Let this serve as an example of how much I appreciate your work on behalf of the greater good.”
She bowed her head again, more deeply this time, as she felt truly honored to know that Prince would assign one of The Purple Reign’s brightest minds to her cause. She then made her exit as the two naked women resumed pampering the society’s leader, and she made her way toward the garage with a sudden nervousness in the pit of her stomach. Traveling through one winding corridor after another, she assumed that Prince was delivering the news to The Great Communicator of Science at that very moment. In a few short minutes she would find herself face-to-face with him, a man who most in the society had never met in person. His name was whispered among them in great reverence, and now Marissa, who had been raised in poverty-stricken Chicago, would be working a case alongside one of her childhood heroes. At least, she thought, Julius would now have a fighting chance.
She took an elevator up to the garage, wondering what she would say to him the entire time. Finally, the doors opened, and Marissa took a deep breath before stepping out of the lift. There, standing alongside a black Rolls-Royce that would serve as their transportation, was The Great Communicator of Science, the man behind The Purple Reign’s technological advancements. It was him…the one and only…
MEANWHILE...
While Marrissa Covington worked on a plan to cure Julius of his multiple personality disorder, the man in question found himself in Detroit between bookings for Project: Honor. He didn’t remember how he got there, could barely remember his previous appearance on Proving Ground, and had very little idea about where he was going next. All he knew was that he had one hell of a headache, as if some evil dwarf was inside his brain trying to smash his way out with a hammer.
Momma Fairweather had locked him out of the house, and when he tried to get in, she told him that he wouldn’t be allowed back until he “got right with Jesus and kicked Satan out of his thoughts’. Julius didn’t have a clue what his mother was talking about at the time, but Joey Fatone would later send him pictures via text, showing the Satanic imagery that Julius had supposedly spray-painted on several walls of the home. Julius internally swore that he had no memory of this, but one picture in particular showed a bare-naked Julius sitting cross-legged in the center of a pentagram surrounded by candles. At first, he thought it was some kind of trick, but he also knew that Fatone wasn’t smart enough to photoshop something that looked so authentic.
As he aimlessly walked the streets of Detroit, his normally pristine suit now tattered and stained, Julius tried to piece together the events of the past few weeks. It was as if he was having severe blackouts, waking up in one location only to be miles away with no recollection of how he got there the next day. Sometimes Slade Castle would be there when he snapped out of a spell, and other times, he’d be with some idiot like Percival Burque or Serrano Poblano. Even his reflection in a broken window was difficult to recognize. His hair had started to grow back out, but it was as white as a ghost. He hadn’t even had a trace of gray in his beard before this. Even his eyes had lost their rich brown color, as a foggy cloud seemed to hover over them at all times. His smile wasn’t even the same, as there were sharp points to his teeth that he couldn’t explain.
Desperate for answers, he tried to call some of his friends but had little luck. His call to Lil’ Petey went right to voicemail, where his former tag partner was ranting about a retirement tour. Savannah Sunshine refused to answer her phone, and he no longer had any idea of how to reach Pyro. Even Indy Darling seemed out of reach, as he aspired to recover from surgery. It made him feel terribly alone, and while he had claimed to like the lone wolf lifestyle in times past, it wasn’t doing him any favors now.
The confusion and despair weighed him down, only making his headache worse. Julius leaned against the outer wall of the brick building he’d been walking past for support and slowly he sank to a seated position on the cold pavement. Maybe if he just closed his eyes for a little bit, he’d wake back up and everything would be the way it was supposed to be. Resting his elbows on his knees, Julius lowered his head between his arms and allowed his eyes to shut.
“Oh dear lord, we’ve got another one!”
The woman’s voice forced Julius awake, but before he could respond or even get his bearings, a blanket was being tossed over his shoulders. With another woman’s assistance, Julius was pulled to his feet with someone supporting him on either side. Too tired to argue or even question what was happening, he allowed himself to be led inside of the building. The two women led him to a chair, carefully lowering him into it, as one of them shouted out to someone nearby.
“Get this one something warm to eat. He’s frozen to the bone!”
“Mother Mary is truly full of grace to guide him as close to our doors as she did.”
Another blanket was heaped over Julius’ shoulders, and he slowly looked back and forth between his would-be saviors, realizing for the first time that they were both dressed in the habits of Catholic nuns. He could not help but give a weak smile in return for their kindness, even if his thoughts were not reflected in it.
LATER...
It was several minutes before he found the strength to speak, but even then, his words hadn’t made much sense to the nuns or volunteers at the soup kitchen. No matter what he said, they would simply respond with smiles or a supportive pat on his shoulder. The only person in the building who actually seemed to understand, or at least took the time to listen, was another of the shelter’s guests.
He was older than Julius or had just lived ten times as hard. He sported a mangled beard of gray hair and a ratted stocking hat on his head, but most notable was his absence of legs not far below his waist. The man had made his way into the shelter on an old skateboard, propelling it with his calloused hands. Despite many open seats within the dining area, the man had chosen to make his way to Julius’ side and sat beside him with his own bowl of discolored broth sitting in front of him.
“Eat it while it’s hot, my brother. Don’t get no better when it’s cold.”
The words escaped the homeless man’s throat as if they were rolling over loose gravel. Immediately after giving his advance, he lifted the bowl of broth to his lips to get the last few drops. He could see the man’s eyes darting from his own empty bowl to the full one still sitting in front of Julius, and without further prompting, Julius slid his bowl in front of his new companion. It earned him a half-hearted smile.
“You sure? They usually don’t have enough to offer us seconds.”
Julius gave a simple nod, which was all the homeless man needed to dip his spoon into the bowl. After a few bites, Julius could feel the man’s eyes on him again, and he wearily returned his stare.
“They say every man has three faces. One is the face of goodwill and charity. Another is the face of maliciousness and greed. The third face is the one he wears to balance out the other two. Just because I see your charity, doesn’t mean I don’t recognize your demons.”
It wasn’t long before the legless man lifted Julius’ bowl to his lips, finishing the rest of his soup as well. With a trembling hand, Julius reached inside of his suit jacket, removing his wallet with the letters BMF monogrammed on the front. The man beside him continued to watch curiously as Julius unfolded it and reached in with his thumb and index finger to pull out a few of the hundred-dollar bills inside. Without explaining himself, he laid the money on the table in front of the other man and then slowly rose to his feet. He made it to the door without one of the overly protective nuns noticing, at which point he dropped his wallet and the rest of the money inside of it into the donation box.
“Sir? It’s so cold tonight. We have room for you!”
Julius heard the woman cry out, but he couldn’t hesitate any longer. He knew the change was coming soon, and no one inside the homeless shelter would be safe if he lingered.
THAT NIGHT...
A warm shower and a change of clothes had done wonders for the wicked soul of Julius Foulweather, almost as much good as stashing money away from his other self had proved to be. Within the confines of his hotel suite, a glass of scotch in one hand and a lit cigarette in the other, he rested in a stuffed chair and grinned at the camera recording his image.
“Some say that every man has three faces. One of those faces displays their charity and kindness, offering a gentle smile to those in need. Before her most recent actions, before she found the courage to show her true face, some may have thought Savannah Sunshine epitomized those qualities. Now, those same people curse her for the choices that she’s made. I refuse to be so hypocritical. Much like myself, Savannah has done what is best for her. She fought through trials and tribulations, but to what end? What was her reward for staying strong?”
“Have no fear, Savannah, my little sister in pain and hatred, for I am with you still. Once I dispose of Alyssa Grace, I will join your quest to put an end to the others who have tried to hold you down. Together, we will bathe in their blood and rejoice in our righteous vengeance. For I still see the face of charity when I look upon you, even if the gifts you now share are unappreciated by others.”
Julius slowly raises the glass to his lips, taking a healthy sip before lowering it once again.
“The second face is one of selfishness, which suits your former beau to a tee. Jason Long has always been selfish, too interested in his own personal achievements to concern himself with the likes of you or me. Only now Jason, we have started to see things a little differently. Just like Savannah, I no longer reserve a modicum of respect for someone like you, no matter how ferociously you fight. There is no camaraderie between us, no allegiance to stay my hand. When we look across the ring at each other, you will not see the face of a man who fought by your side or even the face of a man you’ve opposed in the past. Instead, you will see nothing less than my desire to paint the canvas with streaks of what little blood a shallow heart like yours can generate.”
“Savannah is beyond your reach and Julius doesn’t have your back. We don’t need you. We never did. All we needed was to be true to ourselves and to the society that’s made us. Cry out for mercy or fight until your last breath leaves your lungs. It doesn’t matter either way. The revelation of our true faces was inevitable, and you lack the depth of character necessary to do anything about it.”
Instead of the glass of scotch, this time Julius raises the cigarette to his lips and inhales deeply. A cloud of smoke engulfs his face as he continues to speak his mind.
“The third face is the weakest of all, because it is the one that people wear to hide their true nature. It’s an empty smile to hide the rage or a sad frown to conceal the hope. It is the face of Michael Bishop, who cannot seem to choose a side. Do you stand with your old friend, Jason Long? Do you support Savannah in her efforts to better herself? Do you oppose the True Society or do you long to find enough courage to join us? Who are you, Michael Bishop, and what role will you truly play in the end?”
“Sadly, I foresee you playing an inconsequential part in the drama that will unfold. For such is the path of a man who has neither the courage of his convictions nor the strength of will to simply…choose…a…side. You are a strong man, a man capable of great acts of brutality, not unlike a loaded weapon. Only much like a firearm without someone holding it, you are as harmless as could be. If only you could open your mind and allow someone with vision, someone like Arik Holt, to aim you in the proper direction, you could truly be deadly.”
Julius stamps out the cigarette in an ashtray beside his chair but keeps his foggy stare directed at the camera.
“Of course none of this matters if I do not first eliminate the lovely Alyssa Grace from the equation. While I would never overlook someone of your caliber, my determination to stand beside Savannah, to gut Jason like a pig, and to put Bishop to a true test, will be enough for me to pass you by. Be thankful that I hold no ill will toward you, Alyssa, for the things I’m capable of doing are bad enough without further motivation.”
“My brothers and sisters in the True Society have a challenge ahead of them, a test of our own you might say. We strive to make ourselves better, to push ourselves to greater heights, and to rise to our greatest potential. We are the crucible that tests all who come before us, capable of making you all stronger if you can only find the will to survive. You, Alyssa, are simply not strong enough. At least not yet.”
“That doesn’t mean you can’t become something better. Step into the fire known as Julius Foulweather, let my burning disgust for the falsehood of this world engulf you, and if you’re lucky, you may just find the steel of your soul tempered into an unbreakable weapon. Then again, you might just melt away into nothingness, as inconsequential at the end of your journey as you were when it began.”
With nothing left to say, Julius smiles at the camera like a wolf eyeing a lost lamb and slowly rises from his chair.
*CLICK*
It was her decision to recommend him for membership in The Purple Reign, and because of that, he had gotten tied up with The Illuminati. He was no longer the man she had started to know, at least part of the time. Now he was dancing between personalities like a starving man making routine trips back to the dessert bar at a Golden Corral. She couldn’t help but feel responsible, and as such, she was determined to make things right. With her own resources limited without the support of her superiors in the celebrity cult known as The Purple Reign, she made a trip to Paisley Park in Minnesota, or more specifically, to the series of hidden tunnels and chambers that laid below the estate.
Getting an audience with the Secret Society Leader formerly known as Prince wasn’t always easy, but Marissa got the feeling that he fancied her as he always made time for their private conversations. From immediate appearances however, it seemed as if this meeting wasn’t going to be like the previous ones. Prince was laying on a king-sized bed adorned with pillows and silk blankets, all in various shades of purple. He was shirtless and propped up on the pillows, while a pair of bare-naked women took turns feeding him grapes. It was awkward to say the least, but Marissa did her best to keep her game face on as she addressed her leader.
“Your eminence, I need to speak with you about Julius Fairweather…”
She watched as Prince rolled his eyes while one of the naked women slowly pressed a grape between his lips.
“Marissa, my sweet, I think we’d all be more comfortable if you shed the garments of society and joined me on the royal platform of ecstasy.”
Prince had always been eccentric in his leadership, but Marissa had thus far avoided taking her clothes off in his presence and she wasn’t about to start now.
“I’m sorry, my liege. I’m afraid this business is rather urgent, and we don’t have time for ceremonies. Julius Fairweather…”
“Yes, yes, yes…” he interrupted. “I’m well aware of Julius’ current struggles, but I don’t see how it’s any of my concern. He turned down an offer to stand with me in The Purple Reign, which means his problems are not my responsibility. Perhaps if he had joined us, he wouldn’t have fallen to The Illuminati’s torturous methods.”
Prince turned his head to accept another grape as the other naked woman caressed his bare chest.
“I…understand you were disappointed when he turned down your offer to represent our society in professional wrestling, but that doesn’t mean we should let The Illuminati have their way with him. Their experiments have triggered a psychotic break in Julius, and so far, Agent Fatone has reported on three separate personalities emerging.”
The leader of The Purple Reign rolled his eyes yet again.
“I wanted to recruit Johnny Levy. He wrestles, has Hollywood connections, and is at least one eighth Jewish. Now that would have been the perfect recruit…”
“Sir, please. I can’t save Julius on my own. If you could at least assign me a scientific expert…”
Prince reacted with a heavy sigh, actually turning away from an offered grape to look Marissa in the eyes.
“Fine. If it will ease the tension in your sexy body, I can give you access to one of our scientists, but that’s all you’re getting. Julius chose his path, and if he becomes an Illuminati puppet because of it, I won’t lose any sleep.”
Marissa gave Prince a grateful smile and slightly bowed her head out of respect.
“Thank you, your grace…”
Before she could finish, Prince continued.
“Make your way to the garage. The Great Communicator of Science will be waiting for you there.”
For a moment, Marissa was taken aback. Perhaps she had misheard him?
“The Great…you don’t mean…”
“Yes, Marissa. That’s exactly who I mean. Let this serve as an example of how much I appreciate your work on behalf of the greater good.”
She bowed her head again, more deeply this time, as she felt truly honored to know that Prince would assign one of The Purple Reign’s brightest minds to her cause. She then made her exit as the two naked women resumed pampering the society’s leader, and she made her way toward the garage with a sudden nervousness in the pit of her stomach. Traveling through one winding corridor after another, she assumed that Prince was delivering the news to The Great Communicator of Science at that very moment. In a few short minutes she would find herself face-to-face with him, a man who most in the society had never met in person. His name was whispered among them in great reverence, and now Marissa, who had been raised in poverty-stricken Chicago, would be working a case alongside one of her childhood heroes. At least, she thought, Julius would now have a fighting chance.
She took an elevator up to the garage, wondering what she would say to him the entire time. Finally, the doors opened, and Marissa took a deep breath before stepping out of the lift. There, standing alongside a black Rolls-Royce that would serve as their transportation, was The Great Communicator of Science, the man behind The Purple Reign’s technological advancements. It was him…the one and only…
MEANWHILE...
While Marrissa Covington worked on a plan to cure Julius of his multiple personality disorder, the man in question found himself in Detroit between bookings for Project: Honor. He didn’t remember how he got there, could barely remember his previous appearance on Proving Ground, and had very little idea about where he was going next. All he knew was that he had one hell of a headache, as if some evil dwarf was inside his brain trying to smash his way out with a hammer.
…he’s trying to get out…
…we have to be strong…
…everything will be fine…
…we just have to have faith…
“Oh dear lord, we’ve got another one!”
The woman’s voice forced Julius awake, but before he could respond or even get his bearings, a blanket was being tossed over his shoulders. With another woman’s assistance, Julius was pulled to his feet with someone supporting him on either side. Too tired to argue or even question what was happening, he allowed himself to be led inside of the building. The two women led him to a chair, carefully lowering him into it, as one of them shouted out to someone nearby.
“Get this one something warm to eat. He’s frozen to the bone!”
“Mother Mary is truly full of grace to guide him as close to our doors as she did.”
Another blanket was heaped over Julius’ shoulders, and he slowly looked back and forth between his would-be saviors, realizing for the first time that they were both dressed in the habits of Catholic nuns. He could not help but give a weak smile in return for their kindness, even if his thoughts were not reflected in it.
…slit their throats…drink their blood…burn it all to the ground…
LATER...
It was several minutes before he found the strength to speak, but even then, his words hadn’t made much sense to the nuns or volunteers at the soup kitchen. No matter what he said, they would simply respond with smiles or a supportive pat on his shoulder. The only person in the building who actually seemed to understand, or at least took the time to listen, was another of the shelter’s guests.
…they can’t hear you anymore…
“Eat it while it’s hot, my brother. Don’t get no better when it’s cold.”
…put your spoon through his eye…
“You sure? They usually don’t have enough to offer us seconds.”
…stay strong…
“They say every man has three faces. One is the face of goodwill and charity. Another is the face of maliciousness and greed. The third face is the one he wears to balance out the other two. Just because I see your charity, doesn’t mean I don’t recognize your demons.”
…anything you do to him will pale compared to what I’ll do to Alyssa Grace…
“Sir? It’s so cold tonight. We have room for you!”
…he’s coming and neither of us can stop him…
THAT NIGHT...
A warm shower and a change of clothes had done wonders for the wicked soul of Julius Foulweather, almost as much good as stashing money away from his other self had proved to be. Within the confines of his hotel suite, a glass of scotch in one hand and a lit cigarette in the other, he rested in a stuffed chair and grinned at the camera recording his image.
“Some say that every man has three faces. One of those faces displays their charity and kindness, offering a gentle smile to those in need. Before her most recent actions, before she found the courage to show her true face, some may have thought Savannah Sunshine epitomized those qualities. Now, those same people curse her for the choices that she’s made. I refuse to be so hypocritical. Much like myself, Savannah has done what is best for her. She fought through trials and tribulations, but to what end? What was her reward for staying strong?”
“Have no fear, Savannah, my little sister in pain and hatred, for I am with you still. Once I dispose of Alyssa Grace, I will join your quest to put an end to the others who have tried to hold you down. Together, we will bathe in their blood and rejoice in our righteous vengeance. For I still see the face of charity when I look upon you, even if the gifts you now share are unappreciated by others.”
Julius slowly raises the glass to his lips, taking a healthy sip before lowering it once again.
“The second face is one of selfishness, which suits your former beau to a tee. Jason Long has always been selfish, too interested in his own personal achievements to concern himself with the likes of you or me. Only now Jason, we have started to see things a little differently. Just like Savannah, I no longer reserve a modicum of respect for someone like you, no matter how ferociously you fight. There is no camaraderie between us, no allegiance to stay my hand. When we look across the ring at each other, you will not see the face of a man who fought by your side or even the face of a man you’ve opposed in the past. Instead, you will see nothing less than my desire to paint the canvas with streaks of what little blood a shallow heart like yours can generate.”
“Savannah is beyond your reach and Julius doesn’t have your back. We don’t need you. We never did. All we needed was to be true to ourselves and to the society that’s made us. Cry out for mercy or fight until your last breath leaves your lungs. It doesn’t matter either way. The revelation of our true faces was inevitable, and you lack the depth of character necessary to do anything about it.”
Instead of the glass of scotch, this time Julius raises the cigarette to his lips and inhales deeply. A cloud of smoke engulfs his face as he continues to speak his mind.
“The third face is the weakest of all, because it is the one that people wear to hide their true nature. It’s an empty smile to hide the rage or a sad frown to conceal the hope. It is the face of Michael Bishop, who cannot seem to choose a side. Do you stand with your old friend, Jason Long? Do you support Savannah in her efforts to better herself? Do you oppose the True Society or do you long to find enough courage to join us? Who are you, Michael Bishop, and what role will you truly play in the end?”
“Sadly, I foresee you playing an inconsequential part in the drama that will unfold. For such is the path of a man who has neither the courage of his convictions nor the strength of will to simply…choose…a…side. You are a strong man, a man capable of great acts of brutality, not unlike a loaded weapon. Only much like a firearm without someone holding it, you are as harmless as could be. If only you could open your mind and allow someone with vision, someone like Arik Holt, to aim you in the proper direction, you could truly be deadly.”
Julius stamps out the cigarette in an ashtray beside his chair but keeps his foggy stare directed at the camera.
“Of course none of this matters if I do not first eliminate the lovely Alyssa Grace from the equation. While I would never overlook someone of your caliber, my determination to stand beside Savannah, to gut Jason like a pig, and to put Bishop to a true test, will be enough for me to pass you by. Be thankful that I hold no ill will toward you, Alyssa, for the things I’m capable of doing are bad enough without further motivation.”
“My brothers and sisters in the True Society have a challenge ahead of them, a test of our own you might say. We strive to make ourselves better, to push ourselves to greater heights, and to rise to our greatest potential. We are the crucible that tests all who come before us, capable of making you all stronger if you can only find the will to survive. You, Alyssa, are simply not strong enough. At least not yet.”
“That doesn’t mean you can’t become something better. Step into the fire known as Julius Foulweather, let my burning disgust for the falsehood of this world engulf you, and if you’re lucky, you may just find the steel of your soul tempered into an unbreakable weapon. Then again, you might just melt away into nothingness, as inconsequential at the end of your journey as you were when it began.”
With nothing left to say, Julius smiles at the camera like a wolf eyeing a lost lamb and slowly rises from his chair.
*CLICK*
