09-12-2024, 02:01 PM
(This post was last modified: 09-24-2024, 10:47 AM by Seven Arrows. Edited 1 time in total.)
Akane knew she was in a rough patch in her career now. After an extremely tumultuous off season involving draft drama that she intentionally had to keep her mind blanked on-- a lot of unexplained property damage near her Kyoto home being the only evidence of the resulting anger trance-- the safety knew she was deep in the (metaphorical) hole in her career. Her draft stock completely tanked, safeties with worse stats went higher than her on the board, there was drama in San Jose itself, and bluntly there was a part of Akane that just wanted to go back home to Japan and pretend this whole football nonsense never happened. Maybe she could go into security or something. Vega's got to need some armed guards for whatever the fuck crazy shit she's doing behind the scenes, right?
But of course, her quasi-adoptive mother turned agent didn't see things the same way Akane did. Whether its because the Swiss woman actually cared about building up Akane's confidence, or just saw the potential dollar bills being left on the table if her soon-to-be celebrity retired from the public life, Vega threw a lot of honeyed words at the safety to build up her confidence. Yeah, the first season, and especially the offseason, didn't go her way. But that was no reason to just give up. People were just overlooking her because she wasn't putting herself out there. A little media star power would go a long way to get people to start talking about her, and once the talking heads start talking about her, it'd lead to more opportunities for the Japanese woman to choose her destiny in the future. Just got to build up the brand now.
So as Akane sat outside the recording booth, holding the most recent copy of the ISFL Weekly Mirror, the woman wonders how the fuck she let Vega convince her that this kind of media deal was in any way a good idea. This is what the world of international American football considers to be good media? This nonsense wouldn't even be fit for the tabloid rack back in Japan! Like, seriously, what are these stories? Half the damn issue is just about outlining the ownership battle over the name of the brand. Which, of course, the owner of the Weekly Mirror, or at the very least the version of such that Akane was endorsing, just oh-so-happened to be owned by the GM of the Dallas Birddogs. Someone who ran one of the the DSFL teams also happens to run the largest publications of the ISFL and no one seems to care about the clear conflict of interest this represents. Frankly, the fact that Dallas has such a poor reputation amongst fans despite literally controlling the narrative of the league is astounding malpractice in itself.
But perhaps the main story of this week's publication sheds light in why no one takes Dallas seriously outside of the Lone Star State. The main story focused on the punter of the Yellowknife Wraiths, Zenzeroni Xystarch II, being kidnapped. OK, an actual legitimate story, in itself. A player, even a punter, going suddenly missing is always going to be big news. However, the story immediately goes off the rails when the Weekly Mirror immediately decides to blame space dinosaurs for the disappearance. What the fuck? As if the drug-induced accusations didn't get crazy enough, the newspaper than makes a spurious connection between multiple figures within the ISFL space, claiming that the disappearance was also part of a power struggle over control of Yellowknife. Like people are getting dissapeared like this was the Stalin-era USSR as a power struggle behind the scenes played out. Which still somehow also included dinosaurs. Who came from space.
And Akane was about to attach her name to this rag?
How the fuck did things get this bad?
The Japanese woman puts down the lunatic broadsheet and pulled out her phone. She furiously tapped on the phone as fast she can, her eyes burning with angry regret, until the damn thing started to ring. It didn't take long before another voice went on the line.
"Akane, why are-"
"Vega, what the FUCK is this?"
There was a pregnant pause on the line, before Akane could hear a weary sigh on the other end.
"This... wasn't my first choice myself, Akane. But there's a connection-"
"Let me guess," Akane practically screamed in fury, "a connection with fucking space dinosaurs? You want me to put my name next to that?"
Now it was Vega's turn to get cross. "That's not what I mean, and don't cut me off. If you want me to explain myself, I need you to actually listen, ok?"
There was another pause, this time from Akane's end. There is a part of the woman that, genuinely, didn't actually want answers. She just wanted to scream and rage against whoever was in front of her. In this case, Vega. But there was another part of Akane that knew just getting into a shouting match with her agent wasn't going to actually help her, either.
"Fine," Akane muttered, her voice dripping with venom. She could let Vega talk for now, but that doesn't mean she's going to like it, either.
Vega let off another weary sigh, before continuing, "I... don't want to retrigger your anger point, but to put things vaguely, yes, things are going on behind the scenes. I got you first overall in the DSFL, but I didn't have quite the same pull in the big leagues. I'm... sorry again, for what its worth. Overestimated how much people would care about-- no, that's not important to get into. The point is, these meatheads in football are more insular than I expected them to be. They seem to be mostly in their own world, consuming their own media, and essentially creating a good ol' boys club. If you want to get your own foot in the game, you need to play in their system."
"OK," Akane said, "but... this is going to ruin my reputation. Space dinosaurs. SPACE. DINOSAURS."
"I know, Akane. But this is what I mean by connections. The Weekly Mirror is ran by the Dallas ownership. You're the captain of the Troublemakers. There's already an in for an ad campaign starring you. They want you endorsing them because their main readership cares about Dallas and what they represent. Not only that, but its the largest paper in the international football scene, despite its... reputation. A lot of people read it, despite its outlandish claims. Some consider it to be its charm, that its not actually a serious paper."
"But do you think I'm a joke, Vega? My reputation as the Yajin..."
"Look, I know what you mean. But look at it this way; most people see you as an uneducated barbarian who only plays football to hurt people and is probably not even literate. Endorsing a tabloid like this? I don't think it'd make you look any stupider than people think you are-"
"I HAVE A DEGREE IN ENVIRONMENTAL SCIENCE, THANK YOU VERY MUCH! I STAYED AN EXTRA YEAR TO MAKE SURE I GRADUATED! I AM MORE THAN THE WOMAN WHO LIVED IN THE WOODS! FUCK OFF WITH THAT SHIT!"
Akane angrily hung up the call, knowing full well the well was poisoned at that point. She'd have to talk about this more with her agent when they see each other in person. But for now, she needed to get out of this recording booth, before she throws away what little left of her reputation that she had left-
"Uh," a meek voice came out from the booth, delivered by a technician who seen the fear of god in her eyes. "A-akane? We're r-ready for your lines."
Akane groaned. It still wasn't too late to back out of this nonsense now. What could the technician, or anyone else in this building, really do to stop her from just leaving the building? Not a goddamn thing. So why even participate in this farce? She should be trying to save what little dignity the safety still had left and get the hell out of here.
"I..." the technician continued, "I kind of overheard your c-call. I'm... sorry, for what its worth."
The football player exhaled forcefully. On one hand, she wasn't exactly happy yet another person overheard her sob story. She hated when people pitied her. It made her feel weak, feel helpless. Akane was a warrior; a fighter. She didn't need people's pity. Yet, on the other hand, she couldn't lie; just hearing someone giving her sympathy at all felt nice. Vega's too far up in her ass sometimes to see the trees in the forest. Sometimes, Akane just wanted her to recognize she was hurting, instead of trying to spin everything into her business empire.
"I don't th-think you're stupid, for what its worth."
"OK, fine," Akane glowered, "lead me in, before I change my mind."
The technician did so, leading the captain of the Dallas defense into the recording booth. The Japanese woman slowly sulked up to the microphone, where the technician left a script nearby on a table. Akane's eyes quickly glanced over the paper, trying to read what role she had. The script read off like a parody of the old arcade game Donkey Kong, with Akane playing the role of the titular ape. Makes sense, playing off of her chest pounding victory celebration and general proviliciy towards simians. A mustachioed man, closer to some caricature of an old rich person than Mario per se, is jumping over barrels across the construction site. The barrels are all labeled after prior scandals that happened in the ISFL space, and whenever the man jumps over the barrels, he drops a newspaper on it to destroy it. A little graphic is then supposed to show up in the resulting explosion, such as "TRUTH" or "INTEGRITY", before the man reaches Akane, and he throws a newspaper at the cartoon version of herself. There, Akane starts to read it, and then says
"Wow, the Weekly Mirror hits harder than I do!"
Then a narrator talks about how the Weekly Mirror is the preferred newspaper of Akane and the rest of the Dallas Birddogs. In all sincerity, the ad seems kind of amusing. Akane isn't really one for nerd shit like classic video games, but she thought the comparison to Donkey Kong was oddly flattering in its own way. Maybe this wasn't going to be so bad after all.
Putting the script down, Akane went back to the mic, where the technician then started to address her.
"Ok. To start, we just need you to pound your chest and start doing your monkey chanting. Can you do that for us?"
Akane nodded, and tried to bring her mind back to college. When she used to rule the gridiron. Where there was always a bloodied mass of quarterbacks, running backs, and receivers on the other end of her brutal assaults. She put her mind back to when she was the greatest defensive player in Japan, and soon enough, Akane was pounding her chest like a triumphant gorilla, asserting her authority over her domain. The growling would come out only a second later...
But of course, her quasi-adoptive mother turned agent didn't see things the same way Akane did. Whether its because the Swiss woman actually cared about building up Akane's confidence, or just saw the potential dollar bills being left on the table if her soon-to-be celebrity retired from the public life, Vega threw a lot of honeyed words at the safety to build up her confidence. Yeah, the first season, and especially the offseason, didn't go her way. But that was no reason to just give up. People were just overlooking her because she wasn't putting herself out there. A little media star power would go a long way to get people to start talking about her, and once the talking heads start talking about her, it'd lead to more opportunities for the Japanese woman to choose her destiny in the future. Just got to build up the brand now.
So as Akane sat outside the recording booth, holding the most recent copy of the ISFL Weekly Mirror, the woman wonders how the fuck she let Vega convince her that this kind of media deal was in any way a good idea. This is what the world of international American football considers to be good media? This nonsense wouldn't even be fit for the tabloid rack back in Japan! Like, seriously, what are these stories? Half the damn issue is just about outlining the ownership battle over the name of the brand. Which, of course, the owner of the Weekly Mirror, or at the very least the version of such that Akane was endorsing, just oh-so-happened to be owned by the GM of the Dallas Birddogs. Someone who ran one of the the DSFL teams also happens to run the largest publications of the ISFL and no one seems to care about the clear conflict of interest this represents. Frankly, the fact that Dallas has such a poor reputation amongst fans despite literally controlling the narrative of the league is astounding malpractice in itself.
But perhaps the main story of this week's publication sheds light in why no one takes Dallas seriously outside of the Lone Star State. The main story focused on the punter of the Yellowknife Wraiths, Zenzeroni Xystarch II, being kidnapped. OK, an actual legitimate story, in itself. A player, even a punter, going suddenly missing is always going to be big news. However, the story immediately goes off the rails when the Weekly Mirror immediately decides to blame space dinosaurs for the disappearance. What the fuck? As if the drug-induced accusations didn't get crazy enough, the newspaper than makes a spurious connection between multiple figures within the ISFL space, claiming that the disappearance was also part of a power struggle over control of Yellowknife. Like people are getting dissapeared like this was the Stalin-era USSR as a power struggle behind the scenes played out. Which still somehow also included dinosaurs. Who came from space.
And Akane was about to attach her name to this rag?
How the fuck did things get this bad?
The Japanese woman puts down the lunatic broadsheet and pulled out her phone. She furiously tapped on the phone as fast she can, her eyes burning with angry regret, until the damn thing started to ring. It didn't take long before another voice went on the line.
"Akane, why are-"
"Vega, what the FUCK is this?"
There was a pregnant pause on the line, before Akane could hear a weary sigh on the other end.
"This... wasn't my first choice myself, Akane. But there's a connection-"
"Let me guess," Akane practically screamed in fury, "a connection with fucking space dinosaurs? You want me to put my name next to that?"
Now it was Vega's turn to get cross. "That's not what I mean, and don't cut me off. If you want me to explain myself, I need you to actually listen, ok?"
There was another pause, this time from Akane's end. There is a part of the woman that, genuinely, didn't actually want answers. She just wanted to scream and rage against whoever was in front of her. In this case, Vega. But there was another part of Akane that knew just getting into a shouting match with her agent wasn't going to actually help her, either.
"Fine," Akane muttered, her voice dripping with venom. She could let Vega talk for now, but that doesn't mean she's going to like it, either.
Vega let off another weary sigh, before continuing, "I... don't want to retrigger your anger point, but to put things vaguely, yes, things are going on behind the scenes. I got you first overall in the DSFL, but I didn't have quite the same pull in the big leagues. I'm... sorry again, for what its worth. Overestimated how much people would care about-- no, that's not important to get into. The point is, these meatheads in football are more insular than I expected them to be. They seem to be mostly in their own world, consuming their own media, and essentially creating a good ol' boys club. If you want to get your own foot in the game, you need to play in their system."
"OK," Akane said, "but... this is going to ruin my reputation. Space dinosaurs. SPACE. DINOSAURS."
"I know, Akane. But this is what I mean by connections. The Weekly Mirror is ran by the Dallas ownership. You're the captain of the Troublemakers. There's already an in for an ad campaign starring you. They want you endorsing them because their main readership cares about Dallas and what they represent. Not only that, but its the largest paper in the international football scene, despite its... reputation. A lot of people read it, despite its outlandish claims. Some consider it to be its charm, that its not actually a serious paper."
"But do you think I'm a joke, Vega? My reputation as the Yajin..."
"Look, I know what you mean. But look at it this way; most people see you as an uneducated barbarian who only plays football to hurt people and is probably not even literate. Endorsing a tabloid like this? I don't think it'd make you look any stupider than people think you are-"
"I HAVE A DEGREE IN ENVIRONMENTAL SCIENCE, THANK YOU VERY MUCH! I STAYED AN EXTRA YEAR TO MAKE SURE I GRADUATED! I AM MORE THAN THE WOMAN WHO LIVED IN THE WOODS! FUCK OFF WITH THAT SHIT!"
Akane angrily hung up the call, knowing full well the well was poisoned at that point. She'd have to talk about this more with her agent when they see each other in person. But for now, she needed to get out of this recording booth, before she throws away what little left of her reputation that she had left-
"Uh," a meek voice came out from the booth, delivered by a technician who seen the fear of god in her eyes. "A-akane? We're r-ready for your lines."
Akane groaned. It still wasn't too late to back out of this nonsense now. What could the technician, or anyone else in this building, really do to stop her from just leaving the building? Not a goddamn thing. So why even participate in this farce? She should be trying to save what little dignity the safety still had left and get the hell out of here.
"I..." the technician continued, "I kind of overheard your c-call. I'm... sorry, for what its worth."
The football player exhaled forcefully. On one hand, she wasn't exactly happy yet another person overheard her sob story. She hated when people pitied her. It made her feel weak, feel helpless. Akane was a warrior; a fighter. She didn't need people's pity. Yet, on the other hand, she couldn't lie; just hearing someone giving her sympathy at all felt nice. Vega's too far up in her ass sometimes to see the trees in the forest. Sometimes, Akane just wanted her to recognize she was hurting, instead of trying to spin everything into her business empire.
"I don't th-think you're stupid, for what its worth."
"OK, fine," Akane glowered, "lead me in, before I change my mind."
The technician did so, leading the captain of the Dallas defense into the recording booth. The Japanese woman slowly sulked up to the microphone, where the technician left a script nearby on a table. Akane's eyes quickly glanced over the paper, trying to read what role she had. The script read off like a parody of the old arcade game Donkey Kong, with Akane playing the role of the titular ape. Makes sense, playing off of her chest pounding victory celebration and general proviliciy towards simians. A mustachioed man, closer to some caricature of an old rich person than Mario per se, is jumping over barrels across the construction site. The barrels are all labeled after prior scandals that happened in the ISFL space, and whenever the man jumps over the barrels, he drops a newspaper on it to destroy it. A little graphic is then supposed to show up in the resulting explosion, such as "TRUTH" or "INTEGRITY", before the man reaches Akane, and he throws a newspaper at the cartoon version of herself. There, Akane starts to read it, and then says
"Wow, the Weekly Mirror hits harder than I do!"
Then a narrator talks about how the Weekly Mirror is the preferred newspaper of Akane and the rest of the Dallas Birddogs. In all sincerity, the ad seems kind of amusing. Akane isn't really one for nerd shit like classic video games, but she thought the comparison to Donkey Kong was oddly flattering in its own way. Maybe this wasn't going to be so bad after all.
Putting the script down, Akane went back to the mic, where the technician then started to address her.
"Ok. To start, we just need you to pound your chest and start doing your monkey chanting. Can you do that for us?"
Akane nodded, and tried to bring her mind back to college. When she used to rule the gridiron. Where there was always a bloodied mass of quarterbacks, running backs, and receivers on the other end of her brutal assaults. She put her mind back to when she was the greatest defensive player in Japan, and soon enough, Akane was pounding her chest like a triumphant gorilla, asserting her authority over her domain. The growling would come out only a second later...
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![[Image: pot1.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/gkK39ckq/pot1.png)
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![[Image: jreed12.gif]](https://sig.grumpybumpers.com/host/jreed12.gif)
![[Image: tDftwMH.jpeg]](https://i.imgur.com/tDftwMH.jpeg)
