PROMO: Ancient History IV

[Toxxic 0]

Atlanta, Georgia

Early 2002

 

“I can’t believe it! I can’t fucking believe it!” Gabriel Drake shouts. He’s storming around Toxxic’s apartment, an ugly mood writ large across his face. The bigger man’s movements have a curious jerkiness to them, as if he’s constantly fighting the urge to smash things or throw things - which to be fair, wouldn’t be far from the truth. He stops suddenly and rounds on his English friend, one finger pointed accusingly at the younger man.

 

“You promised me, you little shit!” he spits, “you promised to take care of her, not fuck her while I was gone!”

 

“Yeah, I know,” Toxxic agrees mournfully. “Look mate, I dunno what to say. I was drunk and trust me, I’m never drinking again. Ever.”

 

“Oh, and that’s supposed to make me feel better?” Drake asks. Toxxic shakes his head. “No, it’s meant to make me feel better,” he replies, “slightly, anyway. Look, I’m sorry man. But like I said, I was drunk an’ she was coming on to me-”

 

“Whoah,” Gabe cuts him off, “she was coming on to you? Cos that’s not what she said!”

 

“Yeah, well, we’ve been having that argument since we woke up in the same bed four days ago innit?” Toxxic grunts. “She’s got it in her ‘ead that I made the first move, which is a complete and utter fuckin’ lie-”

 

“I don’t want to know,” Drake cuts him off, “I don’t want to know.” He shuts his eyes for a few seconds and takes deep breaths. Then he opens them again and looks at Toxxic. He smiles. It looks forced, but under the circumstances that’s hardly surprising.

 

“Look, I know you didn’t mean to do what you did,” he says, “you or Livvy. I trust that about you both. It doesn’t mean that I haven’t been hurt by it, by both of you, and I can’t be with Livvy right now - I‘ve told her that. But I can live with it. I’ll cope. And I don’t want to lose either of you as friends as a result.” He looks straight into Toxxic’s eyes, and tries to smile again. “I reckon we should go out tonight, all four of us.”

 

Toxxic’s eyes narrow.

 

“Y’know, I dunno who yer tryin’ to kid sunshine, but it ain’t working on me,” the Englishman tells him. Gabe’s face shows confusion.

 

“What?”

 

“You’ve always got to be the best at everything, haven’t you,” Toxxic says, leaning on the wall and regarding the older man steadily, “you had to be the best wrestler, you had to be the best cook, you even had to get the steady girlfriend before me or Karl. But I’ll tell you something,” he continues, “you ain’t the best at being nice. That’s Karl’s gift, Gabe. He’s the Nice Guy - fuck, he’s a walking doormat. You… you’re a long way from nice, just like me. That’s why we kick arse in the ring. So don’t come with the softly-softly act to me cos it ain’t gonna work, even if you’re fooling yourself with it.”

 

“Do you have any idea how hard this is?” Gabe grits out through his teeth, “I’m trying to keep a couple of friends after you screwed me over, and all you can do is tell me I’m a bastard!? What do you want me to do, start punching you?”

 

“It’d make more bloody sense!” Toxxic snaps, pushing himself away from the wall. “Yeah, I’m your friend Gabe - I also fucked your girlfriend while you were gone for a week. You’re a bit bloody mardy at the best of times, don’t expect me to believe that you’re gonna be fine with that! So yeah, I’d rather you started layin’ into me now, cos otherwise yer gonna bottle it up until you explode and some day I’m gonna catch it in the fucking back!”

 

Gabe’s hands have started to curl into fists and his breathing has quickened. Toxxic stands facing him; smaller and less obviously agitated, but stubbornly refusing to back down from the stance he’s taken. The two men stand looking at each other for several seconds… and then slowly, Gabriel Drake starts to calm down again. His mouth twitches before he can seemingly trust himself to speak, but then he manages to get some words out.

 

“Meet at my place at eight. We’ll go out, have a nice time and…” he trails off, possible endings like forget all about this or everything will be OK sticking in his throat. In the end he settles for “…we’ll have a nice time,” and walks past Toxxic. The smaller man tenses as Drake brushes against him, but nothing happens. It’s a small apartment after all; physical contact is virtually a necessity to navigate it with more than one person inside.

 

“I’ll be there,” Toxxic says, turning round as Gabe starts to let himself out of the door, “but I won’t be drinking.” Drake doesn’t reply; he just shuts the door behind him.

 

“…and that’s a promise,” Toxxic says after him. His mouth twists. “I’ve gotta start keeping my promises…”

 

 

 

 

 

To Be Concluded…

[Smartly Pretty 0]

If this is ancient history, then aren't like, the socks Toxxic was wearing that day artifacts and worth a lot of money?

 

Is Gabriel Drake after Toxx's socks? Cause that would be the best angle ever.

[Toxxic 0]

It's more meant to be not only backstory for the feud, but also an explanation as to why Toxxic became straight-edge, and why he now has such a complex about keeping promises.

 

But if you want to ramble about socks Windy, so be it. I'm sure that's what people do when they think Coldplay are a good band.

[Guest A Silent Presence]

Coldplay: "Singing the same song since we were established"

 

Nice promo. It fits well with the others, and it provides some backstory to your character.

[Angel_Grace_Blue 0]

Speaking of socks, remember those SWF.com message board promos I wrote? One of the fake users was called 'ToxxicSox'. lollerz.