Post by Dionysus on Oct 8, 2023 3:29:14 GMT
Swirl.
Sniff.
Sip.
Swish.
Spit.
These are The Five Ss of wine-tasting. Although, given where I am now, it is more appropriate to swallow the wine rather than spit it out on the floor. An exquisite port was my wine of choice currently, and with its dark, fruity flavor I suddenly had a craving for a piece of dark chocolate to compliment. Alas, I had none nearby. Hindsight really is twenty-twenty.
But it's okay.
The port was much more enjoyable from a seat flying above the clouds.
Given my busier than normal schedule, I decided to shill out for a private jet to fly us out to Los Angeles. Normally I would have just hopped on a regular plane, but I wanted to ensure I was on-site in a timely manner. Wouldn't do me much good if I was late for my first invitational tournament, now would it?
The plane itself wasn't anything fancy, just a one-cabin plane with six seats available. Only four were occupied, including my own. As for the other three, they were filled by my entourage, The Many Faces. Sitting across from me was Devin, who was preoccupied with a book and lightly humming to himself. He seemed like a happy-go-lucky kind of guy, but there was something about him that threw me off. Directly behind me was Daniel, a man whose passion could easily be mistaken for anger. And across from him was a lovable man, if somewhat buffoonish, Wide Dio. Yes, he did insist on us calling him that. Ah yes, there is another important detail to add to this:
We all look alike. But that is a story for another time.
I could hear Wide Dio smacking his lips loudly as he was consuming a sandwich he had brought on the plane with him. Daniel was trying his best to sleep through it all, but groaned when he couldn't tune out the joyful hunger. "Hey Dio, could you maybe eat quieter please?" He asked angrily.
Wide Dio stopped chewing, turning to face Daniel with the sandwich still in his mouth, shrugging and saying, "Thur, I an oo at."
I pinched the bridge of my nose and shook my head. "Try it again but after you have swallowed."
We all heard a loud gulp and a sigh from Wide Dio. "Sorry. I can be quieter, buds," He replied sheepishly.
"It is no trouble to me," I informed. "Though I do appreciate your willingness to do so."
"Fanks," Wide Dio happily spat out through another mouthful of sandwich.
Again, Wide Dio is our precious boy.
Devin chuckled in his seat, overhearing the conversation. "We really are just getting along swimmingly, aren't we?" he said, closing the book he was reading and tucking it back in his bag. "You never did tell us how you managed to afford this thing. Aren't private jets usually expensive?"
"They are," I explained, "But in this case I chose to rent one. I don't have a need for a private jet, and besides, this is just a one-off time where I needed more control over my travel schedule. With it being approximately four hours to fly to Los Angeles from Minneapolis, I believe the overall cost for this flight is roughly twenty thousand. I pulled some from the Relentless purse, but I also have savings for just such an occasion, should it ever arise."
"A diligent planner to the very end," Devin acknowledged. "That is why we follow you, right?"
"I figured it was because we all look alike. But if you would prefer turning this into some bizarre kind of worship of me..."
Devin waved his hand dismissively. "Nah, nothing like that. It's nice that we can all get along, despite our-"
The cabin began to shake violently. It seemed like we hit some turbulence, as confirmed by the pilot just a few seconds after we hit it. There was a louder thud behind me, followed by a groan of pain. I turned to look back, seeing Wide Dio sprawled face-down on the floor in the middle of the cabin. Once the turbulence settled, I climbed out of my seat and moved next to Wide Dio, checking to make sure he didn't hit his head. Between Daniel and I, we managed to turn Wide Dio over...who was openly sobbing. The sandwich he was eating was now stuck flat against his belly. "I ruh-really liked that sandwich..."
I heard Devin in the front let out a long sigh. "...Despite our differences," he said, finishing his previous thought.
"You're fine, Dio. We'll get you another one when we land," I assured him. "Come on Daniel," I then ordered, looking at Daniel as I did so. "Let's get him up. Grab that arm there." Wide Dio wasn't particularly heavy, but I didn't want to chance throwing my back out before the match. We managed to get Wide Dio to his feet, and I clapped him on the back. "Are you going to be okay? Did you hurt yourself at all?"
Wide Dio shook his head. "Not that I can tell," he said happily enough, wiping his face from the tears. "The plane just scared me, is all."
"I know, pal," I said calmly, rubbing his head in assurance. "But from the looks of things, it's all over now. Go in the bathroom and get yourself cleaned up. You packed an extra shirt, right? I'll put it on your chair for you, okay?"
Wide Dio nodded, waddling to the back of the plane to use the restroom to clean himself up. I felt sorry for the guy; I knew he didn't do well on planes, but I figured with this trip only being the four of us, he would be able to handle it better. I went back to my seat to find the glass of port I had been drinking spilled onto the floor. I frowned; I quite liked that glass. I felt Daniel's hand on my shoulder. "Hey. Do you think he'll be okay?"
"He was just startled by the turbulence, that's all," I assured Daniel. "Besides, this isn't the first time he has flown. Remember how he nearly knocked out the people sitting next to us the first time we flew? He's doing better on these longer flights." I could feel Daniel's hand slip away as I turned to look at him, giving a reassuring smile. "The more he flies, the more comfortable he'll be with air travel. It worked for me, after all."
Daniel sighed. "That's true, I suppose. It isn't as though this flight could get any worse, right?"
Almost immediately after he said those words, we both froze in horror as one of the loudest farts imaginable was ripped in the plane's bathroom. It was a sealed cabin that recycled the air. That one moment just made this flight even longer. Devin, Daniel and I all looked at each other with fear, as I turned toward the cockpit. "Say pilot...just how much further until our destination?"
A few seconds of silence. Then, the pilot chimed in with, "We're about an hour and a half away now."
The three of us groaned. Now the cabin was going to be filled with Wide Dio's flatulence. Devin broke the tension with a fit of laughter, then saying, "I guess this flight really is a gas!"
A much longer flight, indeed.
But it's okay.
Because all I needed were my friends to support me. Together, we could withstand anything...although this sealed cabin would prove to be one of our greatest trials.
I likely do not need to do any introductions, but in case you are unfamiliar with who I am, permit me to introduce myself.
My name is Dionysus Berget. You can call me Dionysus. Yes, Dionysus is my real name. It was my father's decision, wanting to name me after a greek god. What, did you expect something like Ares or Poseidon?
About a year ago, if someone told me I would be getting ready for The Porter Games, I would have told them off for being a liar. I've had my ups and downs throughout my career. Most of them downs. From achieving a world title within my rookie year, to failing to achieve singles glory back-to-back-to-back. There was a moment in my life where I allowed the doubts to sink deep into the recesses of my mind, telling me that I was washed up before I could even get started, to simply quit before I embarrassed myself. However, I also knew that if I simply gave up, the regret was bound to kill me. So, I kept honing my craft. I kept up with the Action. I Leveled Up. I sought Absolute Power. And eventually, it led me to conducting Warfare.
I have had my share of stumbles, but at long last, I have managed to find my stride.
For the longest time, I have been someone who willingly looked on, watching as others clawed their way to satisfy their hunger for glory. It would only be a matter of time for me to get my shot, right? But over time, I began to see the folly in that thought process. Repeated failures led me to accept that there were going to be opponents greater than me, requiring me to continue to work hard to reach their level. I fought tooth and nail, leaving blood, sweat and tears in every ring I wrestled in, from Greece to Tokyo and even the depths of Hell itself. And having come out the other side, that same hunger for glory calls to me. That call for recognition that is long past overdue.
Thus, when Denzel Porter sent me an invitation to The Porter Games, I happily accepted, knowing that my skills would truly be put to the test. And what a bracket I have ended up landing myself in. In no particular order, I have the potential opportunity to compete with the likes of Joe Montouri, Larry Tact, Peter Vaughn, Goth, Max Stone and Chris Page. A victory over any of these men would be monumental for me, but should I falter, I know the time will have not been wasted.
Of course, that does mean I will need to defeat Sean Parker in order to even reach those other six, let alone the eight in the other bracket that I am less likely to see.
Now, Sean and I are similar in many ways. We are both second generation competitors with our fathers no longer in the picture. We are both considered by some to be rising stars in the grand scheme of the business, depending on who you ask. We both wanted this life for ourselves from the moment we saw our first matches. The only noticeable difference between us is the name recognition. His family are a known entity in the business, while my father kept mostly to himself in the local scene, opting instead to open a gym and train other competitors. From what I have been told, he never wanted the spotlight for himself, but rather to prepare the next generation of competition. A noble profession in and of itself, but it also means that my accolades stand on my own shoulders, rather than either adding to an already legendary dynasty...or worse, overshadowed by that same dynasty.
Do not take that as a fault against you. Rather, it simply means that your actions carry a certain expectation, given whose family you belong to. There is a reputation to maintain and uphold. You are still a competitor under your own name and those accomplishments stand on their own, but your actions will also reflect back on your family, for better or worse. But for me? I have no such restriction. My father was practically nobody, as he intended to be, and thus, the name I make for myself is mine and mine alone. It is a level of freedom that many have experienced before, but one that gives me a distinct edge against you in this contest. That pressure of maintaining a certain level of distinction with a legacy is not on me for this match up, the first round and even the first match in this tournament.
We are all entering this tournament for the chance at a title of our choosing in our respective companies, but I have an ulterior motive. I am here to make this tournament as competitive as possible. No slacking off. Nothing low tempo. If you do end up defeating me, it is because I made you work for that victory. That goes just as much for you, Sean, as it does everyone else in The Porter Games. Consider this my first and only notice to the rest of you. Our match is the pace car that will set the standard which the rest of you are either bound to follow or exceed.
While Sean has been busy focusing his attention on the battles he can have online, I have devoted myself to preparing as hard as I can to make this bout a memorable one. Despite my godly name, I by no means possess some kind of divine pride in myself. I am not an arrogant man, as I have been humbled far too many times to count. What I am, however, is a competitor that when the chips are on the table, you will find me a much more difficult obstacle than anticipated. Every match is an opportunity to show the world just what it is that I am capable of. Regardless of where I end up on the card, I treat my match as if it were my last main event, giving it my all and then some. Here is something you all will need to understand about me; this isn't just another tournament I can add a participation ribbon to. I am rarely invited to tournaments like this.
I am not here to squander this opportunity. And I surely hope, for your sake as well as mine, you are not here to waste anyone's time. Remember the name of Dionysus as it continues to climb throughout the tournament. And do not be surprised if it somehow lines itself up in the spot for the finals. Because when you have been at the bottom for so long...
...You long to reach the top.
Sniff.
Sip.
Swish.
Spit.
These are The Five Ss of wine-tasting. Although, given where I am now, it is more appropriate to swallow the wine rather than spit it out on the floor. An exquisite port was my wine of choice currently, and with its dark, fruity flavor I suddenly had a craving for a piece of dark chocolate to compliment. Alas, I had none nearby. Hindsight really is twenty-twenty.
But it's okay.
The port was much more enjoyable from a seat flying above the clouds.
Given my busier than normal schedule, I decided to shill out for a private jet to fly us out to Los Angeles. Normally I would have just hopped on a regular plane, but I wanted to ensure I was on-site in a timely manner. Wouldn't do me much good if I was late for my first invitational tournament, now would it?
The plane itself wasn't anything fancy, just a one-cabin plane with six seats available. Only four were occupied, including my own. As for the other three, they were filled by my entourage, The Many Faces. Sitting across from me was Devin, who was preoccupied with a book and lightly humming to himself. He seemed like a happy-go-lucky kind of guy, but there was something about him that threw me off. Directly behind me was Daniel, a man whose passion could easily be mistaken for anger. And across from him was a lovable man, if somewhat buffoonish, Wide Dio. Yes, he did insist on us calling him that. Ah yes, there is another important detail to add to this:
We all look alike. But that is a story for another time.
I could hear Wide Dio smacking his lips loudly as he was consuming a sandwich he had brought on the plane with him. Daniel was trying his best to sleep through it all, but groaned when he couldn't tune out the joyful hunger. "Hey Dio, could you maybe eat quieter please?" He asked angrily.
Wide Dio stopped chewing, turning to face Daniel with the sandwich still in his mouth, shrugging and saying, "Thur, I an oo at."
I pinched the bridge of my nose and shook my head. "Try it again but after you have swallowed."
We all heard a loud gulp and a sigh from Wide Dio. "Sorry. I can be quieter, buds," He replied sheepishly.
"It is no trouble to me," I informed. "Though I do appreciate your willingness to do so."
"Fanks," Wide Dio happily spat out through another mouthful of sandwich.
Again, Wide Dio is our precious boy.
Devin chuckled in his seat, overhearing the conversation. "We really are just getting along swimmingly, aren't we?" he said, closing the book he was reading and tucking it back in his bag. "You never did tell us how you managed to afford this thing. Aren't private jets usually expensive?"
"They are," I explained, "But in this case I chose to rent one. I don't have a need for a private jet, and besides, this is just a one-off time where I needed more control over my travel schedule. With it being approximately four hours to fly to Los Angeles from Minneapolis, I believe the overall cost for this flight is roughly twenty thousand. I pulled some from the Relentless purse, but I also have savings for just such an occasion, should it ever arise."
"A diligent planner to the very end," Devin acknowledged. "That is why we follow you, right?"
"I figured it was because we all look alike. But if you would prefer turning this into some bizarre kind of worship of me..."
Devin waved his hand dismissively. "Nah, nothing like that. It's nice that we can all get along, despite our-"
The cabin began to shake violently. It seemed like we hit some turbulence, as confirmed by the pilot just a few seconds after we hit it. There was a louder thud behind me, followed by a groan of pain. I turned to look back, seeing Wide Dio sprawled face-down on the floor in the middle of the cabin. Once the turbulence settled, I climbed out of my seat and moved next to Wide Dio, checking to make sure he didn't hit his head. Between Daniel and I, we managed to turn Wide Dio over...who was openly sobbing. The sandwich he was eating was now stuck flat against his belly. "I ruh-really liked that sandwich..."
I heard Devin in the front let out a long sigh. "...Despite our differences," he said, finishing his previous thought.
"You're fine, Dio. We'll get you another one when we land," I assured him. "Come on Daniel," I then ordered, looking at Daniel as I did so. "Let's get him up. Grab that arm there." Wide Dio wasn't particularly heavy, but I didn't want to chance throwing my back out before the match. We managed to get Wide Dio to his feet, and I clapped him on the back. "Are you going to be okay? Did you hurt yourself at all?"
Wide Dio shook his head. "Not that I can tell," he said happily enough, wiping his face from the tears. "The plane just scared me, is all."
"I know, pal," I said calmly, rubbing his head in assurance. "But from the looks of things, it's all over now. Go in the bathroom and get yourself cleaned up. You packed an extra shirt, right? I'll put it on your chair for you, okay?"
Wide Dio nodded, waddling to the back of the plane to use the restroom to clean himself up. I felt sorry for the guy; I knew he didn't do well on planes, but I figured with this trip only being the four of us, he would be able to handle it better. I went back to my seat to find the glass of port I had been drinking spilled onto the floor. I frowned; I quite liked that glass. I felt Daniel's hand on my shoulder. "Hey. Do you think he'll be okay?"
"He was just startled by the turbulence, that's all," I assured Daniel. "Besides, this isn't the first time he has flown. Remember how he nearly knocked out the people sitting next to us the first time we flew? He's doing better on these longer flights." I could feel Daniel's hand slip away as I turned to look at him, giving a reassuring smile. "The more he flies, the more comfortable he'll be with air travel. It worked for me, after all."
Daniel sighed. "That's true, I suppose. It isn't as though this flight could get any worse, right?"
Almost immediately after he said those words, we both froze in horror as one of the loudest farts imaginable was ripped in the plane's bathroom. It was a sealed cabin that recycled the air. That one moment just made this flight even longer. Devin, Daniel and I all looked at each other with fear, as I turned toward the cockpit. "Say pilot...just how much further until our destination?"
A few seconds of silence. Then, the pilot chimed in with, "We're about an hour and a half away now."
The three of us groaned. Now the cabin was going to be filled with Wide Dio's flatulence. Devin broke the tension with a fit of laughter, then saying, "I guess this flight really is a gas!"
A much longer flight, indeed.
But it's okay.
Because all I needed were my friends to support me. Together, we could withstand anything...although this sealed cabin would prove to be one of our greatest trials.
I likely do not need to do any introductions, but in case you are unfamiliar with who I am, permit me to introduce myself.
My name is Dionysus Berget. You can call me Dionysus. Yes, Dionysus is my real name. It was my father's decision, wanting to name me after a greek god. What, did you expect something like Ares or Poseidon?
About a year ago, if someone told me I would be getting ready for The Porter Games, I would have told them off for being a liar. I've had my ups and downs throughout my career. Most of them downs. From achieving a world title within my rookie year, to failing to achieve singles glory back-to-back-to-back. There was a moment in my life where I allowed the doubts to sink deep into the recesses of my mind, telling me that I was washed up before I could even get started, to simply quit before I embarrassed myself. However, I also knew that if I simply gave up, the regret was bound to kill me. So, I kept honing my craft. I kept up with the Action. I Leveled Up. I sought Absolute Power. And eventually, it led me to conducting Warfare.
I have had my share of stumbles, but at long last, I have managed to find my stride.
For the longest time, I have been someone who willingly looked on, watching as others clawed their way to satisfy their hunger for glory. It would only be a matter of time for me to get my shot, right? But over time, I began to see the folly in that thought process. Repeated failures led me to accept that there were going to be opponents greater than me, requiring me to continue to work hard to reach their level. I fought tooth and nail, leaving blood, sweat and tears in every ring I wrestled in, from Greece to Tokyo and even the depths of Hell itself. And having come out the other side, that same hunger for glory calls to me. That call for recognition that is long past overdue.
Thus, when Denzel Porter sent me an invitation to The Porter Games, I happily accepted, knowing that my skills would truly be put to the test. And what a bracket I have ended up landing myself in. In no particular order, I have the potential opportunity to compete with the likes of Joe Montouri, Larry Tact, Peter Vaughn, Goth, Max Stone and Chris Page. A victory over any of these men would be monumental for me, but should I falter, I know the time will have not been wasted.
Of course, that does mean I will need to defeat Sean Parker in order to even reach those other six, let alone the eight in the other bracket that I am less likely to see.
Now, Sean and I are similar in many ways. We are both second generation competitors with our fathers no longer in the picture. We are both considered by some to be rising stars in the grand scheme of the business, depending on who you ask. We both wanted this life for ourselves from the moment we saw our first matches. The only noticeable difference between us is the name recognition. His family are a known entity in the business, while my father kept mostly to himself in the local scene, opting instead to open a gym and train other competitors. From what I have been told, he never wanted the spotlight for himself, but rather to prepare the next generation of competition. A noble profession in and of itself, but it also means that my accolades stand on my own shoulders, rather than either adding to an already legendary dynasty...or worse, overshadowed by that same dynasty.
Do not take that as a fault against you. Rather, it simply means that your actions carry a certain expectation, given whose family you belong to. There is a reputation to maintain and uphold. You are still a competitor under your own name and those accomplishments stand on their own, but your actions will also reflect back on your family, for better or worse. But for me? I have no such restriction. My father was practically nobody, as he intended to be, and thus, the name I make for myself is mine and mine alone. It is a level of freedom that many have experienced before, but one that gives me a distinct edge against you in this contest. That pressure of maintaining a certain level of distinction with a legacy is not on me for this match up, the first round and even the first match in this tournament.
We are all entering this tournament for the chance at a title of our choosing in our respective companies, but I have an ulterior motive. I am here to make this tournament as competitive as possible. No slacking off. Nothing low tempo. If you do end up defeating me, it is because I made you work for that victory. That goes just as much for you, Sean, as it does everyone else in The Porter Games. Consider this my first and only notice to the rest of you. Our match is the pace car that will set the standard which the rest of you are either bound to follow or exceed.
While Sean has been busy focusing his attention on the battles he can have online, I have devoted myself to preparing as hard as I can to make this bout a memorable one. Despite my godly name, I by no means possess some kind of divine pride in myself. I am not an arrogant man, as I have been humbled far too many times to count. What I am, however, is a competitor that when the chips are on the table, you will find me a much more difficult obstacle than anticipated. Every match is an opportunity to show the world just what it is that I am capable of. Regardless of where I end up on the card, I treat my match as if it were my last main event, giving it my all and then some. Here is something you all will need to understand about me; this isn't just another tournament I can add a participation ribbon to. I am rarely invited to tournaments like this.
I am not here to squander this opportunity. And I surely hope, for your sake as well as mine, you are not here to waste anyone's time. Remember the name of Dionysus as it continues to climb throughout the tournament. And do not be surprised if it somehow lines itself up in the spot for the finals. Because when you have been at the bottom for so long...
...You long to reach the top.