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Post by Stu Pott on May 29, 2012 22:29:16 GMT -8
Stu smiled and motioned to the bartender to fill Marcus' glass. The man acknowledged Stu's own slip-up by mentioning his own last name again with such a play as asking for another drink, and Stu knew the boy would be on the defensive for sure now, and probably less receptive.
Oh well, more fun in the end.
The bartender dropped the glass in front of him and walked away. Stu sipped from his own, knowing it wasn't worth getting hammered in front of the new meat. He watched how the boy acted, knowing he's probably sizing him up; why wouldn't he? He probably already made his judgement too.
He set the beer down and turned towards him.
"So, there's your beer. You're in it to fight Sean Barker. But there's plenty of anti-Barker groups, I've got files on all of em, even if I haven't read all of em yet. Why Crows? These guys aren't exactly that great. Only reason i'm here is because Militia is dead and gone and the mother of my son likes thes guys.
So what's your jackanory- er, excuse me, story?"
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Post by Marcus Prasad on May 29, 2012 23:38:20 GMT -8
Marcus accepted his beer graciously, tipping the glass off to Stu before downing it in one gulp much like his last one, scrunching up his face in disgust after slapping the glass down with an audible tap. The beer went down as easy as water. It didn't help that water probably had a higher alchohol content than this stuff. He wasen't even feeling a buzz and probably would have to go through an entire keg and a half before he finaly would.
Feeling alot more comfortable now that he was back in the drivers seat of this conversation, he listened as Stu rattled off for awhile and considered his responce carefully.
Yeah, this was ALOT more to his liking. He can control the pace better from here.
"Well you have the right of it bud."
Marcus replied thoughtfully.
"The only issue is, What exactly have they been doing in the past few months compared to the crows? A whole lot of sweet fuck all that's what. Don't think I haven't been checking all the major players out in my brief time here. So far as I see, the Crows have been the only ones actively working to undo everything Barker has done. Everyone else seems to just like talking about getting shit done."
Marcus paused for a moment to let all that sink in before continuing.
"Besides, I met your boss personaly, though I have to admit I never did get a chance to bug him about the Nazi Eyepatch of his. Besides that oddity I have to say I actualy like the guy. He has that air about him of a man who's in control and knows what he's doing."
Nodding to himself before adding
"That I respect."
Suddenly an idea struck the man's head with the force of a thunderbolt. The mischevious smile played across his face once again before he turned towards his soon to be superior.
"Look, you wanna know what I'm capable of right? Well I could go on and on about my strengths and weaknesses and what have you and all it will amount to is me bragging for an hour and a half."
He then leaned forward conspiritorialy.
"So this is what I suggest."
A pause for dramatic effect........
"A Challenge. You and a bunch of your best and brightests get together and brainstorm mabey......three, no lets make it a round niumber, five tasks for me to perform to showcase my particular talents."
Reaching up to his left upper arm of his bomber jacket, Marcus unzipped the hidden pocket that was there and pulled out a scrap of paper, unfolded it and slipped his pen from a pen holster that was just above the pocket and began to write a series of numbers down.
"This is my Cell phone number. Once you guys think up your first task, just call me, no matter what time it is, and give me the situation and objective as well as any stipulations or boundries you guys might think of."
A new game to play! The thought was making Marcus all excitable.
"Now these challanges should test stuff like my leadership skills, problem solving capabilites, physical strength, speed and endurance. That sort of thing. Then you guys can see me in action. Alot better than a stuffy interview no?"
His spiel done, Marcus leaned back and favored Stu with a sincere smile that made his eyes light up. His first real friendly gesture all day.
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Post by Stu Pott on May 30, 2012 10:44:26 GMT -8
Stu took the piece of paper and looked at it, memorizing the number before slipping the piece into his pocket. He finished his beer and then pointed at a bottle halfway up the wall.
"That. Two glasses, two ice."
The bartender nodded after perking an eyebrow, and went about his business. Stu listened as the boy continued on with his form of a challenge, something that would prove who he was. It was as if he thought this was Ninja Warrior or something, an obstacle course of jobs to display his talents.
Boooooring.
"Nah, mate, I don't think we'll be doing that. That's for kids."
The drinks were poured, a bottle of whiskey set down on the counter next to them. Stu picked up his and clinked it into Marcus' before slamming it back and pouring one more. The beer wasn't doing the trick; this was real alcohol.
"What I think we should do, is continue chatting until this bottle is finished. Even if its just casual talk. Then, me and you will go out back and I'll go over what the actual entrance exam is."
Stu's demeanor had changed pretty alarmingly, all the joy gone out of it. He finished pouring for both of them; no doubt Marcus would slam his back with the same ferocity of Stu, and then clinked his glass again against his before pounding it.
He set it down, and poured again.
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Post by Marcus Prasad on May 30, 2012 18:27:49 GMT -8
"Ah fuck you too."
Marcus retorted with a smirk. Secretly he felt stung. He thought it was a pretty cool idea. No matter, he always did consider himself a kid at heart anyway.
"Well, suite yourself. Don't say I didn't give you an out."
Marcus would keep up with Stu shot for shot, clinking his glass right along with the other man. The whiskey burned nice and hot the entire way down.
'Finaly, some REAL liquor.'
It had been awhile since he had whiskey. A Hard commodity out in the wasteland that most of the United States had become.
"Alright, where to start. Well lets get the easy one out of the way. I'm good in a scrap, been fighting most my life now actualy. I know Parkour. I own my own suped up Harley. I've had experiances in Small squad tactics as well as large scale stuff. I'm a people person. I can be real sneaky when I wanna be. I'm a wise ass little shit sometimes. Well, most of the time, depends on what mood I'm in really."
The man counted each item off with his fingers for awhile before he put his hands down and tried to recollect his thoughts. He didn't want to start repeating himself.
"Anything else you wanna know?"
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