North board, roleplay 13

Previous Parts: Part 1 | Part 2

A chance awaited Eyrik. On one hand, it was a chance for success and stardom. On the other hand, it was a chance for defeat and failure. It was all in how you looked at it.

At his desk, Eyrik was reading Orson Scot Card's Ender's Game... for the fifth time. On the desk in front of him stood a clear glass that contained water up to about the half-way mark. It was neither half-full nor half-empty, or was it both? Eyrik lifted his eyes from the book and recognized this dilemma. His vision affixed onto the glass in question, and he began wondering what he should look at the glass as. On one hand, it did look about half-full with all that water and all, but on the other hand, it looked a bit empty.

But then, however, an idea came to Eyrik's head. He reached out with his right hand, grasped the glass, and then slowly brought it towards him. He titled it upward to his lips and felt the water pass through his mouth and down his throat.

Instead of pondering if it was half-empty, or half-full, he just drank it.

He set the glass down on the desk, looking satisfied with himself. Next to him on the desk was a drawer, which he opened and looked inside. His hand slipped into the drawer and pulled out a flyer, which was then set onto the desk. On the flyer, the words "Wrestling God III" were written.

This was the chance of a lifetime, Eyrik knew. Names were made in Wrestling God II, the previous tournament. Names like Jack Lundin, Token Weed, and Rayne were all the names of stars who had established themselves as some of the best with help from the publicity of Wrestling God II. Eyrik grinned with the thought of being known as one of the best in the business. Things had been looking up for him in WWR, and WG3 could only help propel him to the top.

Eyrik's hand disappeared once again into the open drawer, and it reappeared with a sheet of paper and a pen. Eyrik set it on the desk, and began writing.

Dear Erik,

Guess who? I've been doing some coffee-house philosophy type shit stuff lately, and I realized something. When it comes to Wrestling God III and the like, let me handle it all. I think the both of us, being, well almost the same person, have been preoccupied with not screwing up lately. Listen, I think I know what needs to happen.

It just occurred to me why the guy that came up with that Nike slogan, "Just do it," "Just Do It," deserves to be the millionaire I'm sure he is today. Is the glass half-empty or is it half-full? Who cares? Drink the damned thing anyway.

And that's exactly the kind of attitude that we need to have going into this tournament. This could be a big chance, but we need to approach it like anything else. Don't let nerves get in the way of elevating the name "Eyrik Jupiter" to the same heights of names like Rayne, Token Weed and Jack Lundin. These competitors used the tournament as a lever to get to the top, and they didn't even need to win the damned thing.

I think I have the right mindset down. I know Rent-A-Hero and whatever he's dressed as won't be able to top our ski talent, right? There's a lot of talent in this tournament, and it's a testament to us just how good we are that we're already in there. But I know we can go further and get our name out there more, I just need to get things started.

So, what do you say to my proposition, brother?

Sincerely,
Yrik Jupiter

And the letter was written. Eyrik left the book, the letter, the pen, and the glass all on the desk, and then departed to his cool, soft, and comfortable bed that was just calling his name...

***

The hand of Eyrik Jupiter quickly rose to shield his half-opened eyes from the flood of the sunlight shining through his lace-draped bedroom window. After a moment of adjusting to the sun's rays, Eyrik sat up in his bed and stretched a lazy, tired stretch. He threw the covers back, swung his legs over the side of the bed to the ground, and then stood up. He walked over to the desk that contained the flyer, the book, the paper and pen, and the glass of water.

Eyrik picked up the piece of paper that the letter was written on, and scanned it. Then, he sat down, and on the same paper wrote his reply.

Dear Yrik,

You have not failed me so far. In two matches in WWR you have put on impressive showings, plus with your help, I've gotten this far. I put my trust in you, brother, for I smile gleefully at the thought of the name Eyrik Jupiter being heralded as one of the greatest.

Love,
Erik Jupiter

Eyrik put the pen down, and looked at the glass. He couldn't help but notice that it was empty.