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Post by devilssaint on Jun 22, 2014 8:48:36 GMT -6
The following rps are designed to give each member a bit of insight into the off-camera life of Nikki. None of this pertains to his on-camera character. Probably should have added this from the start, but I wasn't thinking about on and off camera at the time. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- March 13, 2014. 2:45 PM. Detroit, Michigan. I remembered last night now. God damnit, what the fuck is wrong with me? I gathered up all the money I had left from Sports Entertainment Extreme and made a call to Josh. Told him to bring the usual. He came by and dropped off the goods; tried to sell me some "better shit" like he always does. I listened for an amount I deemed polite - I don't want to piss off my only dealer these days, he might raise prices on me- then politely told him to fuck himself. Fuck off. Leave me the fuck alone with my shit. When he extended his hand I lost it on him and picked up by the ass of his pants. Like hell I was going to shake this fuckers hand. I threw him out of my house and told him not to come back until I bought more shit from him. I slammed the door closed, set the alarm again... then realized I hadn't given him his money. What the fuck is wrong with me? Why do I have to be such an asshole? That was the beginning of my wonderful night. I called Heather over to my place - I've come to accept that she is my Nora substitute. That's okay. We starting basing, as she's shown me before. Then disaster struck. I ordered my usual - it's more of a medium strength, enough to get me high. Josh, that motherfucker, gave me some of his strong shit that he's never sold me on. There's a reason why I never listened to his sales pitch, and it's because I don't want to fucking go insane. I started to believe that Heather was a spy for the police, and that they were coming to take me away. So I screamed at her and stripped her down. I knew she had a wire on her somewhere. I didn't find anything, but I still knew she was trying to lock me away, so I did what any sane person would do. Kick her out of the house naked and throwing her clothes at her before locking the door, setting the alarm, and locking myself away in the bathroom with a shotgun in my hand. I tried calling Nora at one point, but it went to an answering machine...I'm sorry Nora. Eventually I pulled out the Ziplock of Heaven and tried my best to shoot up quickly. I kept looking at the bathroom door hearing footsteps in the bedroom beside it. I knew they were already inside the house. I almost dropped the spoon full of coagulating heroin a few times, but I finally shot up. As sick as it sounds, my favourite part is right before the needle goes in. The anticipation, and knowing that salvation is coming soon. That soon enough I will be so far out of my mind that Nora will be nothing more than a word. My thoughts would fade away, and I'd end up passed out in my bathroom. The needle slid in and my body started to tingle with warmth. Then, black. I've started this diary in the hopes that it will document my recovery. Maybe... I could even get back into wrestling. |
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Post by devilssaint on Jun 22, 2014 8:56:47 GMT -6
 June 22, 2014. 10:00 AM. Detroit, Michigan.
Today, the doc said that it tends to help people to shed the identity they once had in favour of a new, better one. That in order to do this one must shave their head to completely separate the vision they see in the mirror. Today, I shave my head, and I create a new Nikki Venom. Whether the doc prescribes it or not, the only time I've been sober is when I was wrestling. I got in contact with a company down south. They say it's a fresh start for people. I think I'll fit right in. First though, there is something I need to do. It's shaving time.
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Post by devilssaint on Jun 23, 2014 21:31:43 GMT -6
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Post by devilssaint on Jun 29, 2014 23:26:59 GMT -6
I wish I could say that there was something special going on in this place. That somehow I was in the backstage when the Pistons were finishing up a game, or when a concert had just ended, but it's not true. The truth is much sadder than that. I am in the parking lot of the Joe Louis Arena writing in this stupid diary again. And why? Because I had to call up Josh again. I had done so well these past few months, and I finally just broke down and called my dealer after signing with the IWC.
I couldn't stay in the Hell Hole tonight. Not to do this. I had finally cleaned the place up. Jason and Bryden had come down from New York (well, it isn't "down" from New York, but this is pen and I've already fucked up) and cleaned out my room of shame. Who am I kidding? It was my apartment; my home of shame. It was a resemblance of everything I hated about myself, and it had finally been whitewashed. So when I broke down today I felt sickened in myself. I couldn't let anyone know! They would shame me for breaking down. They don't know that everyone falls off the wagon. They don't know I can get back on it. They finally have hope in me, and I would crush their hopes. They'd abandon me too.
Why hasn't anyone called to see if I'm alright?I'm sure they could see it in the way I acted today. All I craved was a little China White. I was paranoid as all hell too. Why didn't anyone notice it? So I broke down. I went to Josh and got the usual. China White and a lil' somin' somin' to bring me down from the usual psychosis that was sure to happen. I drove away from the Hell Hole and finally parked in the parking lot of the Joe Louis Arena. Here I am now. I don't know why I grabbed this diary. I don't know why I haven't given in yet. Is this what I have resorted to? I am nothing but trash and I know it. I'm going to throw this shit away. This isn't me. Not anymore... let's hope Jason is up... |
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Post by devilssaint on Jul 19, 2014 18:17:00 GMT -6
OOC: Doing this while on a Greyhound bus. I'm really hoping that this banner doesn't look like the Greyhound logo for you, and that it's only a Wifi thing. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- July 19, 2014. 8:09 PM. Detroit, Michigan.
I'm finally home. I'm sorry about leaving you here diary. I completely forgot to bring you along. Nothing too eventful happened anyway. I've been clean for... shit, four months now. Well, if we want to be technical it's four months and six days. I won in IWC, as if I didn't expect that outcome. I was surprised that they booked me to beat Akua at MSW though. I thought that with him losing the past few matches that I'd put him over, but I guess they really believe in me... I'm glad. At least someone believes in me. It makes me want to stay clean forever. I've never really had someone believe in me before. It's always been someone putting the weight on my shoulders. With NPW and SEE, I was given the weight and burden because I was a trusted vet; because I was the only one over. With SEE it was even worse. They didn't believe in me; they put me over because I was banging a third of the management. They did it because she said so. That was shit.
MSW, it seems has given me a lot more than a fresh start, they've given me a reason to believe in myself. And these days, we all need a reason to believe. Maybe we are more sensitive than past generations and that is the reason why we need a reason to believe. In any case, I've found home.
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