Post by Deleted on Nov 3, 2022 10:08:17 GMT -5
Recovering backstage on what had to be the only Chaise Longue in this part of the world, Leonardo seemed completely off in his own world imagining being fawned over by a host of beautiful muses who made sure he was never without comfort.
But to be completely anti-comfort, the existence of Abby Joseph creeps into view as they clear their voice once, twice, and one third and final time to finally snap Leonardo out of his daydreaming and into the real world.
Who in Gogh's name are you supposed to be? Leonardo asked, refusing to get up from his comfortable position and hoping the annoying presence would leave.
Well I want to ask you about your debut, you were succesful against Ace Sky. How did you find the experience? the interviewer would ask, dutifuly doing her duty in asking questions.
But Leonardo would stir for a second, letting out the smallest of smiles that was merely a razor thin veneer for his true emotions. But he'd sit up all the same, making sure the camera could see his 'surprise'.
Oh, I get it, this is one of those backstage interviews. The one where you ask someone some bland lifeless questions, and you expect me to answer you about how much of an honour it was to step into the ring against such a great competitor! he'd go on, clear as day he was being very sarcastic in tone.
He'd stand up fully before Abby could continue, his smile disappearing.
Don't patronize me, Anya. The mere fact that art hating slob called Ace Sky was allowed to put a hand on me should start an inquest amongst the heads of this company. UWL, UWL, or whatever its name will be in two weeks! I came here to teach people a better way, show people what art is, and I was forced to compete in a disgusting display of wrestling instead. I was barely allowed to show my artistry, the true schwung that is being a man that combines the nasty vile sport of wrestling with the beautiful and heart-rending display of artistry.
By this time, Abby had long departed not feeling the need to listen to the man talk. But Leonardo was on his high horse, and would focus on the camera instead.
Listen, I don't care about winning or losing here, I don't care who I will have to face next whether it's 'hometown favourite' Billy Danielson who probably has never feasted his eyes upon a Monet, or big boy pants Robb Daniels and Anthony Cross who pretend they're important when they have never been able to breathe in the rarified air of the sistine chapel on the holiest day of the week.
And don't get me wrong, i'm no holy man, but they sure had more idea of beauty than most people in this company right now. Apart from maybe that Dayna Barrett, she's a woman after my artistic heart for embracing beauty.
Stopping for a second, he'd lean over to his longue and grabbed a few grapes out of a bowl. The artistic one needing some refreshment to take the nasty flavour of talking about physical competition out of his mouth.
Don't worry, whoever is next, they'll see what art is truly about. What Leonardo is truly about, the renaissance hasn't even begun to bear fruit.
But to be completely anti-comfort, the existence of Abby Joseph creeps into view as they clear their voice once, twice, and one third and final time to finally snap Leonardo out of his daydreaming and into the real world.
Who in Gogh's name are you supposed to be? Leonardo asked, refusing to get up from his comfortable position and hoping the annoying presence would leave.
Well I want to ask you about your debut, you were succesful against Ace Sky. How did you find the experience? the interviewer would ask, dutifuly doing her duty in asking questions.
But Leonardo would stir for a second, letting out the smallest of smiles that was merely a razor thin veneer for his true emotions. But he'd sit up all the same, making sure the camera could see his 'surprise'.
Oh, I get it, this is one of those backstage interviews. The one where you ask someone some bland lifeless questions, and you expect me to answer you about how much of an honour it was to step into the ring against such a great competitor! he'd go on, clear as day he was being very sarcastic in tone.
He'd stand up fully before Abby could continue, his smile disappearing.
Don't patronize me, Anya. The mere fact that art hating slob called Ace Sky was allowed to put a hand on me should start an inquest amongst the heads of this company. UWL, UWL, or whatever its name will be in two weeks! I came here to teach people a better way, show people what art is, and I was forced to compete in a disgusting display of wrestling instead. I was barely allowed to show my artistry, the true schwung that is being a man that combines the nasty vile sport of wrestling with the beautiful and heart-rending display of artistry.
By this time, Abby had long departed not feeling the need to listen to the man talk. But Leonardo was on his high horse, and would focus on the camera instead.
Listen, I don't care about winning or losing here, I don't care who I will have to face next whether it's 'hometown favourite' Billy Danielson who probably has never feasted his eyes upon a Monet, or big boy pants Robb Daniels and Anthony Cross who pretend they're important when they have never been able to breathe in the rarified air of the sistine chapel on the holiest day of the week.
And don't get me wrong, i'm no holy man, but they sure had more idea of beauty than most people in this company right now. Apart from maybe that Dayna Barrett, she's a woman after my artistic heart for embracing beauty.
Stopping for a second, he'd lean over to his longue and grabbed a few grapes out of a bowl. The artistic one needing some refreshment to take the nasty flavour of talking about physical competition out of his mouth.
Don't worry, whoever is next, they'll see what art is truly about. What Leonardo is truly about, the renaissance hasn't even begun to bear fruit.