Post by Marcus Prasad on Feb 7, 2013 20:20:09 GMT -8
And Fuck the Status Quo
He must have been staring at it for hours, contemplating it's very existance and what it meant to him. Tucked away within Silks house, sitting at her kitchen table with a pair of scissors in one hand and the other outstretched on the table, laying bear the ONE THING that had been a constant source of anguish since it had been first wound around his wrist.
Marcus stared at the little red ribbon. It probably weighed less than a whole pound, yet somehow hung like a massive chain around his heart, forcing him to the ground with bent back. This wasn't a token of affection, it was a god damn slave collar for all the good it had been doing him. A constant reminder of that which he could not have.
He hadn't seen Delilah in Months. And While she worked on becomming some sort of Messiah from what he had heard, He would continue to sit in Anaheim and twiddle his fucking thumbs, feeling his frustration bubble over and boil until it felt like a nucleor bomb was going to go off in his head.
"Time to take back control and do what I do best."
****************************************************
<We should have done this a year ago.>
Out of everywhere in Anaheim the Center Street Promenade HAD to be the one place Marcus loved the most. Before the Great Fall, it had been the city's center of shopping, business and entertainment which meant the buildings were tall and spaced pretty close together. The parkour arena Marcus had been waiting for!
Also the perfect place to stage a Citywide Public Declaration.
Already a stage had been built, with flyers coating the city so that EVERYONE would come. Upon the stage, working under the chilly February morning was the man himself, Marcus Prasad with his hands busy inside the guts of a set of speaker towers as he gingerly set up connections and replaced those that were crossed or burnt out, the guts having already wound themselves around his arms as he fought to keep them clear of where he was working alongside Silent, Frost and Sleepy.
"I know, I KNOW already!"
The man declared with a screwdriver wedged between clenched teeth after the young mute had caught his eye and 'spoke' to him through a complex series of hand signals. Marcus had done his best to pick up on American sign language. According to Silent he was surprisingly decent and the pair sometimes would just sit back and quietly 'speak' to each other. The others in the pack had alittle more difficulty though due to Silents omnipresent poker face.
"It's gonna have to be 'better late than never' though so quit griping about it. I didn't realize top brass assumed I would just walk up in here, flop my fucking dick out and Fuck-start this place back into ship shape."
Pulling himself away from the tower of varnished wood and circitry, he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand before shouting over at the droopy eyed man standing at the front of the stage, microphone in hand.
"Alright Sleeps, Give'r one!"
The man pulled his ciggarette out of his mouth and gave the head of the Mic a tap, sending hollow static thumps through the speakers.
"Alright....Check one, Check one two.....I WANNA BE A MUTHERFUCKING ROCK STAAAAAAAAAAAAR!"
Or at least that was what was SUPPOSED to be heard. Instead half of what Sleepy had screamed was suddenly drowned under a high pitch squeal that sent Everyone ducking for cover with thier hands over their ears until the ear splitting squeal died down to a low monotone, leaving everyone stuck with the same ringing in thier head.
"Reposition the Speakers, we gotta DEFINATLY reposition the speakers."
"WHAT!??!!??!"
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"I said I'm disbanding the Wolfpack."
They stood before him, lined up in a row from the tallest to the small. A look of complete and utter shock on each and every one of thier faces as they stood within the compound, thier leader pacing back and forth slowly with hands clasped firmly behind his back. None dared to speak, as if by doing so, they would break the spell and render the proclamation true. If they didn't hear it, it didn't happen.
Unfortuantly that wasn't good enough for Josephine. Rage having quickly replaced the shock.
"With all due respect sir, what the FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!?!?"
Marcus was unfazed. In fact the Pack had never seen him look so serious in all thier time with him. There was no dancing lights behind his eyes, no smirk on his lips and certainly no spring to his step as he finaly came to a stop and looked them all in the eye.
"I meant what I said. We Failed. The Experiment failed. Everyone in the Crows see's the Wolfpack as Tengu Squads retarded fucking red headed Stepchild and I quite frankly have to agree with them."
Tell them lies, tell them sweet little lies. Shame them, break them and Make them into something else. Something STRONGER.
"But the blame is not on you. I asked Zero Fett for ten names and ten names was what he gave me. I promised him a Squad that could Rival Tengu in mobility, infiltration, stealth, the works. One that was free from conventional logistics that can survive for days deep in enemy territory and in that regard, I failed. I failed to teach you my skills."
"But...But sir, the Missions we had gone on? Mourning Tide, Lucien, The Battle of the Crows nest. We can still-"
"YOU ARE NOT READY FOR THIS!"
For a moment Marcus allowed the Silence after his outburst to settle.
"You. Are. Not. Fucking. Ready! Your survival rate right now for the kind of missions I have planned sit between 5-10%
That's Total Party kill in case you can't do math!"
For awhile the Pack stood rooted to the spot, looking to each other with confusion, shame and dismay in thier eyes. Joe looked like she was ready to blow again and was about to clear her throat when 'Doc' Thibault raised a hand to stop her, stepped forward and looked Marcus straight in the eye, speaking in a quiet voice which everyone could hear clear as day.
"Then Make us Ready sir."
