Post by Hyde on Aug 16, 2015 20:01:02 GMT -5
(Note: Echoes of Memories are a series of collected character development portions of roleplays for Hyde that delve into his past. Most of these, with the exception of the upcoming prologue (the version here is the rewritten one, but is mostly the same as the CPW version) were written for NEWera Wrestling when I took him over there for a short but fun amount of time. Hyde has been a character that has constantly evolved drastically since his inception as Coma back in 2008. The funny thing is I had all but given up on Coma A.K.A. John King after a stint here, than a stint in Supreme Wrestling. It wasn't until I was making a return with Chris Stone, where he wore a mask to hide his identity, that the name Hyde became attached to a character of mine. The response I got for those StoneHyde RPs told me I had found something special. And I knew that too as it was just fun as hell to write.
So I found a way to make the mask and the name get over to John King. It was the best thing that ever happened to that character. I've been told that Tombstone, when I was on fire with him, is my best character. And while that may be true in some people's eyes, for me, I consider my best character the one that I consistently have fun with. It's a character that no matter how much I try to get away from at times, I find myself going right back to him because the possibilities with him are limitless. It's a character that, as strange as it sound, won't allow himself to be silenced in my head, just like he is portrayed in his roleplays. Hyde is that special to me.
And while I've gone into what has got him to this point in his professional career from the time that he first met Chris Stone, I never went too far into his past outside of the upcoming prologue. And with NEWera, I saw the opportunity to actually see if I could figure out what makes Hyde... Hyde. He's a character that hits just about every single villain cliche and is not ashamed of it. The idea I had at the time was to at least give him reasons as to be the way that he is. And it turns out I had fun with going into this part of his life. Just as the character of Hyde came to me while listening to Ozzy when trying to figure a way to disguise Stone, I found that going into his life stayed true to that and much of it inspired by songs, most of which are classic rock or psychedelic rock. The character has always sang songs, so music is very much important to his concept in a way.
I don't mean to come off as pretentious and if I do, I apologize. I'm not looking for compliments, responses, feedback, or likes. I just enjoy the character so much and the direction I was going with that story in NEW that I want to pick it up again. And so, I'm compiling everything here so I can get back to that point and continue the story, which will probably be continued on this board and kept away from match related stuff as his modern day stories steer away from match relevance enough as it is sometimes. So if you read these and enjoy them, I'm glad I could do that for you. If you read them and don't like them or aren't even interested in reading them, well, I know that this isn't for everybody.)
So I found a way to make the mask and the name get over to John King. It was the best thing that ever happened to that character. I've been told that Tombstone, when I was on fire with him, is my best character. And while that may be true in some people's eyes, for me, I consider my best character the one that I consistently have fun with. It's a character that no matter how much I try to get away from at times, I find myself going right back to him because the possibilities with him are limitless. It's a character that, as strange as it sound, won't allow himself to be silenced in my head, just like he is portrayed in his roleplays. Hyde is that special to me.
And while I've gone into what has got him to this point in his professional career from the time that he first met Chris Stone, I never went too far into his past outside of the upcoming prologue. And with NEWera, I saw the opportunity to actually see if I could figure out what makes Hyde... Hyde. He's a character that hits just about every single villain cliche and is not ashamed of it. The idea I had at the time was to at least give him reasons as to be the way that he is. And it turns out I had fun with going into this part of his life. Just as the character of Hyde came to me while listening to Ozzy when trying to figure a way to disguise Stone, I found that going into his life stayed true to that and much of it inspired by songs, most of which are classic rock or psychedelic rock. The character has always sang songs, so music is very much important to his concept in a way.
I don't mean to come off as pretentious and if I do, I apologize. I'm not looking for compliments, responses, feedback, or likes. I just enjoy the character so much and the direction I was going with that story in NEW that I want to pick it up again. And so, I'm compiling everything here so I can get back to that point and continue the story, which will probably be continued on this board and kept away from match related stuff as his modern day stories steer away from match relevance enough as it is sometimes. So if you read these and enjoy them, I'm glad I could do that for you. If you read them and don't like them or aren't even interested in reading them, well, I know that this isn't for everybody.)
-----
Prologue
Free Bird
Prologue
Free Bird
The buzzer echoes throughout the hallway as the locks on the double doors release. Bill, the head of security, motions to his team of three men to go through the doors. They grab their restrained patient by the arms and guide him through the doors. Bill led the way, a grim look on his face.
Bill was a middle aged black man and had been part of security for this particular asylum for many, many years. When Charles Schuster was appointed as the head doctor, he was promoted to head of security. In his tenure, nothing out of the ordinary ever happened. Patients never gave problems, doctors never had complaints. That is until this man arrived a year ago.
The group comes to the end of a hallway, standing in front of a holding room. The patient, bound at his ankles and wrists with chains and locks, begins to chuckle, his sick smile showing through his greasy hair. Bill looks at the patient in disgust, opening the holding room door. The security team drags the patient inside, sitting him down at a table next to the hallway window. The patient begins to whistle a tune as the security team give him some space. Bill turns around, hitting the window with his fist.
Bill
Hey! Shut the fuck up in there! ...goddamn psychopath...
He mutters the last part under his breath as he turns back around. He was craving a cigarette badly, not really caring about hospital policies. And given the circumstance at the moment, it seemed hospital policy didn't matter anymore. Bill looks to his right, seeing the double doors that lead to the exit wide open, sunlight pouring in. He shakes his head, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his cigarettes. He lights one up, taking a deep drag. The buzzer fills the hallways again as Bill exhales a deep cloud and Dr. Charles Schuster appears at the other end of the hallway.
Dr. Charles Schuster
Bill! You know there's no smoking in here!
Bill
Figured you'd let this slide this one time, Doc...
Dr. Charles Schuster
Afraid I can't do that, Bill.
Bill shakes his head, taking another drag.
Bill
But you can let this nut walk out of those doors down there? Come on, Charlie... I'm no fool.
Dr. Schuster lets out a sigh. He was only a few years younger than Bill, but looked much older, mostly due to the long sleepless nights and his own personal cure for insomnia: whiskey. His hair was mostly gray, with only a streak of black on both sides.
Dr. Charles Schuster
Bill... we've discussed this.
Bill
I don't give a damn, Charlie! This man has no business in the outside world! You've seen what he's done in here! Hell, you remember what he did to Scary Larry! And that was just by talking to him! Not a damn soul bothered Larry before this man. Not a one!
Dr. Charles Schuster
I know, Bill... I know. But I can't do anything more for him.
Bill
You've had patients in the past that you were unable to help! And what did you do? You kept them in here! You still took care of them! You just threw away the key! But this one? THIS ONE?!? No, Charlie, this ain't right. You have a responsibility and you're turning your back on it.
The patient leans toward the glass, raising his bound hands and knocking on it.
Patient
You know... I can hear everything you say.
Bill
Like I give a fuck! SHUT UP!
Dr. Charles Schuster
Bill, it's just one of those things.
Bill
How much did that man pay you?
Dr. Charles Schuster
Excuse me?
Bill
The man that came here yesterday asking about him. Donna told me. How much is he paying you to make you turn your back like this?
Dr. Charles Schuster
Nothing!
Bill mutters under his breath, shaking his head as he takes another drag. Schuster lets out a sigh, looking through the window at the patient. He wished he could share the details with Bill. The man had been one of the most loyal people he had ever worked with and it hurt to hide this from him. But the more he didn't know, the better off he was in case something happened down the line. He'd be able to deny knowledge of what happened on this day. Schuster wasn't going to drag his friend down with him in case the shit hit the fan.
The patient knocks on the window again, flashing his Glasgow grin through his greasy hair.
Patient
Hey! I think I'm gonna need a change of pants. I just shit myself.
He begins laughing hysterically as Bill stares at Schuster, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb.
Bill
You hear that in there? Does that laughter sound like sane laughter to you?
Dr. Charles Schuster
We're all different, Bill.
Patient
Wait, scratch that, false alarm.
Bill
I get that, Charles. But he's too different. This man... he doesn't act like a man. A man has a heart. A man has feelings. He's more like an animal.
Dr. Charles Schuster
I assure you, Bill, he is most definitely a man.
Patient
On second thought, I'm definitely going to need those pants. And one of those little pine trees so I can freshen up.
A car pulls up next to the double doors at the end of the hallway. Doors on either side open up and two men step out. Schuster looks over at Bill, grimly nodding his head.
Dr. Charles Schuster
It's time, Bill.
Bill shakes his head, throwing the cigarette to the floor and stepping on it. He storms into the holding room, walking to the patient.
Bill
Me and the doc will walk him out, boys. You just walk behind us. Come on, get up, fuckhead.
Bill grabs the patient by the arm, dragging him up. The patient laughs as they walk out of the door, the small security team following them. Schuster stops Bill as he comes out of the door, pointing to the restraints.
Dr. Charles Schuster
We have to let him out of the restraints.
Bill
What? But he's still within our walls!
Dr. Charles Schuster
Just... just do it, Bill.
Patient
Yeah, Billy, just do it! Haha!
Bill stares at Schuster for a moment before grabbing his keys, slowly unlocking the patient's restraints. The patient stretches his arms out, laughing hysterically. Bill grabs him by an arm rather roughly, walking him to the end of the hall. Schuster walks to the left of them as the security team walks behind him. The patient eyes the open doors at the end of the hallway, beginning to smell the freshly cut grass on the outside. His smile goes ear to ear as he begins to sing.
Patient
If I leave here tomorrow
Would you still remember me?
For I must be traveling on now
Cuz there's too many places I've gotta see!
Bill looks over at Schuster, shaking his head. The doctor sees him out of the corner of his eye, but doesn't glance over. He couldn't. He didn't have the courage to. As they got closer and closer to the doors and to handing off the patient, his singing got louder.
Patient
But if I stayed here with you, girl,
Things just couldn't be the same.
'Cause I'm as free as a bird now,
And this bird you can not change, oh, oh, oh, oh.
And this bird you can not change.
And this bird you can not change.
And Lord knows I can't change!
Hahahahahaha!
Bill was a middle aged black man and had been part of security for this particular asylum for many, many years. When Charles Schuster was appointed as the head doctor, he was promoted to head of security. In his tenure, nothing out of the ordinary ever happened. Patients never gave problems, doctors never had complaints. That is until this man arrived a year ago.
The group comes to the end of a hallway, standing in front of a holding room. The patient, bound at his ankles and wrists with chains and locks, begins to chuckle, his sick smile showing through his greasy hair. Bill looks at the patient in disgust, opening the holding room door. The security team drags the patient inside, sitting him down at a table next to the hallway window. The patient begins to whistle a tune as the security team give him some space. Bill turns around, hitting the window with his fist.
Bill
Hey! Shut the fuck up in there! ...goddamn psychopath...
He mutters the last part under his breath as he turns back around. He was craving a cigarette badly, not really caring about hospital policies. And given the circumstance at the moment, it seemed hospital policy didn't matter anymore. Bill looks to his right, seeing the double doors that lead to the exit wide open, sunlight pouring in. He shakes his head, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his cigarettes. He lights one up, taking a deep drag. The buzzer fills the hallways again as Bill exhales a deep cloud and Dr. Charles Schuster appears at the other end of the hallway.
Dr. Charles Schuster
Bill! You know there's no smoking in here!
Bill
Figured you'd let this slide this one time, Doc...
Dr. Charles Schuster
Afraid I can't do that, Bill.
Bill shakes his head, taking another drag.
Bill
But you can let this nut walk out of those doors down there? Come on, Charlie... I'm no fool.
Dr. Schuster lets out a sigh. He was only a few years younger than Bill, but looked much older, mostly due to the long sleepless nights and his own personal cure for insomnia: whiskey. His hair was mostly gray, with only a streak of black on both sides.
Dr. Charles Schuster
Bill... we've discussed this.
Bill
I don't give a damn, Charlie! This man has no business in the outside world! You've seen what he's done in here! Hell, you remember what he did to Scary Larry! And that was just by talking to him! Not a damn soul bothered Larry before this man. Not a one!
Dr. Charles Schuster
I know, Bill... I know. But I can't do anything more for him.
Bill
You've had patients in the past that you were unable to help! And what did you do? You kept them in here! You still took care of them! You just threw away the key! But this one? THIS ONE?!? No, Charlie, this ain't right. You have a responsibility and you're turning your back on it.
The patient leans toward the glass, raising his bound hands and knocking on it.
Patient
You know... I can hear everything you say.
Bill
Like I give a fuck! SHUT UP!
Dr. Charles Schuster
Bill, it's just one of those things.
Bill
How much did that man pay you?
Dr. Charles Schuster
Excuse me?
Bill
The man that came here yesterday asking about him. Donna told me. How much is he paying you to make you turn your back like this?
Dr. Charles Schuster
Nothing!
Bill mutters under his breath, shaking his head as he takes another drag. Schuster lets out a sigh, looking through the window at the patient. He wished he could share the details with Bill. The man had been one of the most loyal people he had ever worked with and it hurt to hide this from him. But the more he didn't know, the better off he was in case something happened down the line. He'd be able to deny knowledge of what happened on this day. Schuster wasn't going to drag his friend down with him in case the shit hit the fan.
The patient knocks on the window again, flashing his Glasgow grin through his greasy hair.
Patient
Hey! I think I'm gonna need a change of pants. I just shit myself.
He begins laughing hysterically as Bill stares at Schuster, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb.
Bill
You hear that in there? Does that laughter sound like sane laughter to you?
Dr. Charles Schuster
We're all different, Bill.
Patient
Wait, scratch that, false alarm.
Bill
I get that, Charles. But he's too different. This man... he doesn't act like a man. A man has a heart. A man has feelings. He's more like an animal.
Dr. Charles Schuster
I assure you, Bill, he is most definitely a man.
Patient
On second thought, I'm definitely going to need those pants. And one of those little pine trees so I can freshen up.
A car pulls up next to the double doors at the end of the hallway. Doors on either side open up and two men step out. Schuster looks over at Bill, grimly nodding his head.
Dr. Charles Schuster
It's time, Bill.
Bill shakes his head, throwing the cigarette to the floor and stepping on it. He storms into the holding room, walking to the patient.
Bill
Me and the doc will walk him out, boys. You just walk behind us. Come on, get up, fuckhead.
Bill grabs the patient by the arm, dragging him up. The patient laughs as they walk out of the door, the small security team following them. Schuster stops Bill as he comes out of the door, pointing to the restraints.
Dr. Charles Schuster
We have to let him out of the restraints.
Bill
What? But he's still within our walls!
Dr. Charles Schuster
Just... just do it, Bill.
Patient
Yeah, Billy, just do it! Haha!
Bill stares at Schuster for a moment before grabbing his keys, slowly unlocking the patient's restraints. The patient stretches his arms out, laughing hysterically. Bill grabs him by an arm rather roughly, walking him to the end of the hall. Schuster walks to the left of them as the security team walks behind him. The patient eyes the open doors at the end of the hallway, beginning to smell the freshly cut grass on the outside. His smile goes ear to ear as he begins to sing.
Patient
If I leave here tomorrow
Would you still remember me?
For I must be traveling on now
Cuz there's too many places I've gotta see!
Bill looks over at Schuster, shaking his head. The doctor sees him out of the corner of his eye, but doesn't glance over. He couldn't. He didn't have the courage to. As they got closer and closer to the doors and to handing off the patient, his singing got louder.
Patient
But if I stayed here with you, girl,
Things just couldn't be the same.
'Cause I'm as free as a bird now,
And this bird you can not change, oh, oh, oh, oh.
And this bird you can not change.
And this bird you can not change.
And Lord knows I can't change!
Hahahahahaha!
-----
Many Years Ago...
Biloxi, Mississippi
Biloxi, Mississippi
John? John? Are you listening?
John King looks up from the open box in front of him, a half full beer bottle in his hand. His wife, Amy, smiles at him as she sits on her knees on the floor, another open box in front of her. She shoves it toward him, shaking her head.
Amy King
How much of this war stuff are you going to have?
John King
It was something I was a part of, Amy. I served my country and I'd like to keep mementos of that.
Amy King
Yeah, but... doesn't it bring back bad memories? The stories you told me... so violent. And none of that is exactly going to be a conversation starter given how people view the war...
John sighs, taking a swig of his beer as he looks down at his box. Medals, pictures, bullet casings and more fill it up, as well as the other box that Amy had. John slowly blinks, his mind filling with random memories. The surprise attacks, the screams of pain, the smell of burning flesh. Two years worth of memories from his tour... all flooding through him like a flash flood. It had been a couple of years since he came home too, but he could still see the explosions, still hear his comrades pleading for their end, still smell the sick stink of burning skin... He clears his throat, forcing a smile and looking back up at Amy.
John King
Yeah, but we're not back in conservative San Francisco anymore, baby. We're in the south now, where troops are supported no matter what.
Amy King
I still think it's odd that we moved here so suddenly. We don't even have any family here. I liked it back in San Francisco.
John King
Yeah, well... I needed a change of scenery. You're just going to have to deal with it.
Amy King
Deal with it? No need to be an asshole. I just made a comment. You know I'd go anywhere with you.
John takes another long swig of beer, letting out a burp. She shakes her head and stands up, walking out of the living room and into the kitchen, where she began to unpack dinnerware. John nods his head, closing his box of military mementos up. Silence was exactly what he wanted right now. He loved Amy, but there were things that she would just never understand... that she couldn't understand. A common thing she had said to him since he came back from the war was that he had changed. It was something he never addressed, mostly because he knew he didn't change. It was just that the wall he had so easily had up before was now down and in pieces, never to be repaired. And he didn't want to repair it.
He liked having it down. It gave him a sense of freedom. There was no longer any 'filter' on him. Before, he would convince himself not to say something. Now he says things just to see what the reaction would be. He found it far more entertaining. Amy, on the other hand, did not like it and felt embarrassed when he would say and do whatever he wanted in public. Probably a reason why she was happy to move with him to Biloxi. Fresh start, even if it meant leaving all their friends behind.
Or her friends. He didn't have many of those and the ones he did died in the war.
Amy King
John? What do you feel like for dinner?
John King
Don't care.
Amy King
Well, I'm not cooking. This kitchen is nowhere near put together enough for that. I remember seeing a couple burger shops in town.
John King
That's fine.
Amy King
All right then. Let's go.
John King
Nah, I'm going to stay here. You go ahead. I'll just have a cheeseburger.
Amy King
John...
He knew that tone. He hated that tone.
John King
What?! I've been driving for the past two days almost non stop. I'm tired, I want to get more of these boxes unpacked and I want to drink a few more beers in goddamn peace. Is that too much to fucking ask?!?
Nothing but silence from the kitchen. Exactly what he wanted to hear. After a few moments, he hears her walking back into the living room. He glances over, watching her grab her purse without even looking at him and going out the front door. He shakes his head, listening for the car to start up. It does and after a few seconds, it pulls out of the driveway. He sets his beer down and walks across the living room, his eyes on one box in a pile. He begins taking the other boxes off of it, setting them off to the side. He kneels down, opening the box, a small smile crawling across his face.
It was another box of mementos, ones that Amy couldn't see. Ones that nobody could see. He finishes his beer, placing the empty bottle on the floor. He picks the box up, walking into the kitchen and out of the side door. He whistles as he moves to the cellar doors, opening them up with one arm and carefully walking down the steps. This box needed to be in a special place, away from prying eyes.
This box was his own personal world...