Post by Marcus Prasad on Sept 17, 2013 14:41:49 GMT -8
Anaheim, much like the other Crow territories found itself in a rather precarious situation where almost the entire length of its borders touched Barker territory. With Anaheim only having enough soldiers to maintain a defensive garrison and Barker seemingly content to leave the Big bad wolf well enough alone, this left Marcus in a rather precarious situation.
FRUSTRATED AS FUCK!
For the people of Anaheim this was an uneasy peace and for the most part they made the best of it despite the almost supersticious attitude of the world outside the city borders.
To Marcus, it felt like he was trapped in a cage and to say this did not sit well with him would be the understatement to end all unnderstatements.
But what is a Grim to do?
The pack continued to sortee, making precision strikes against specific targets here and there in some vain phantasy of making a difference while each and every recon operation told Marcus the same damn thing. That Barker was holding still. Nothing new to report.
Then what of the rumors of mutated creatures attacking alongside Barkers forces? Where did they all go?
Marcus shuddered at the memory. The Ghouls as he dubbed them. Twisted creatures who attacked during Luciens pick up. What of them?
It was a red moon in the sky this night and Marcus found himself outside the cage as a chill breeze kicked debris across the empty broken streets beyong Anaheims southern border. Dressed as he always was, with his signature Bomber Jacket and flatcap, the man began to stroll through Barker territory at a jaunty unhurried pace, fighting the urge to whistle a tune. The weight of misery soaked into the very concrete surrounding him trying its best to smother him and failing.
The man would not be contained. He went where he pleased, Barker be damned, Marcus would stalk his borders from the other side, daring The man himself to notice.
After about a half hour of tracing a path around the perimeter of Anaheim, the man climbed a nearby building and look towards the city under his care.
This felt appropriate somehow. The outsider. The adopted son. Marcus felt an unfamilier pang of regret hit him in the chest as he wondered, not for the first time if he was sent out here just to be kept out of the way. Babysitting a city that was essentially self run. He not only were his wolves his very own private ops group, but they acted as his adjutants as well. Under his guidance they were doing a fine job helping him run the place.
So where did that leave him? Delilah was a Valkerie now, whatever that entailed but it got the Gods and the rest of upper brass excited.
And here he was pacing around his little corner of the world.
Feeling like he was standing still while everyone else moved on without him.
"Why am I even still here?"
He whispered with a hoarse voice which was immediatly gobbled up by the surrounding silence. Mabey he should just move on. Skip town. Take Lady and go.
What kept him here? Working the same mundane tasks, solving the same mundane problems. Things were always so fresh and exciting when he was travelling the world. Here everything was stagnant. Still.
Frustrating.
Not for the first time Marcus had entertained these thoughts. Fear of reprisal was the only thing that stayed his hand. Not for himself, but for the people under his care. He simply didn't have Delilahs creativity. That woman had been through real war by the looks of it. More than before Marcus found himself feeling like a pretender who stayed at a holiday inn last night.
With a sigh, the man leapt down from the small shop he stood upon and continued to walk.
FRUSTRATED AS FUCK!
For the people of Anaheim this was an uneasy peace and for the most part they made the best of it despite the almost supersticious attitude of the world outside the city borders.
To Marcus, it felt like he was trapped in a cage and to say this did not sit well with him would be the understatement to end all unnderstatements.
But what is a Grim to do?
The pack continued to sortee, making precision strikes against specific targets here and there in some vain phantasy of making a difference while each and every recon operation told Marcus the same damn thing. That Barker was holding still. Nothing new to report.
Then what of the rumors of mutated creatures attacking alongside Barkers forces? Where did they all go?
Marcus shuddered at the memory. The Ghouls as he dubbed them. Twisted creatures who attacked during Luciens pick up. What of them?
It was a red moon in the sky this night and Marcus found himself outside the cage as a chill breeze kicked debris across the empty broken streets beyong Anaheims southern border. Dressed as he always was, with his signature Bomber Jacket and flatcap, the man began to stroll through Barker territory at a jaunty unhurried pace, fighting the urge to whistle a tune. The weight of misery soaked into the very concrete surrounding him trying its best to smother him and failing.
The man would not be contained. He went where he pleased, Barker be damned, Marcus would stalk his borders from the other side, daring The man himself to notice.
After about a half hour of tracing a path around the perimeter of Anaheim, the man climbed a nearby building and look towards the city under his care.
This felt appropriate somehow. The outsider. The adopted son. Marcus felt an unfamilier pang of regret hit him in the chest as he wondered, not for the first time if he was sent out here just to be kept out of the way. Babysitting a city that was essentially self run. He not only were his wolves his very own private ops group, but they acted as his adjutants as well. Under his guidance they were doing a fine job helping him run the place.
So where did that leave him? Delilah was a Valkerie now, whatever that entailed but it got the Gods and the rest of upper brass excited.
And here he was pacing around his little corner of the world.
Feeling like he was standing still while everyone else moved on without him.
"Why am I even still here?"
He whispered with a hoarse voice which was immediatly gobbled up by the surrounding silence. Mabey he should just move on. Skip town. Take Lady and go.
What kept him here? Working the same mundane tasks, solving the same mundane problems. Things were always so fresh and exciting when he was travelling the world. Here everything was stagnant. Still.
Frustrating.
Not for the first time Marcus had entertained these thoughts. Fear of reprisal was the only thing that stayed his hand. Not for himself, but for the people under his care. He simply didn't have Delilahs creativity. That woman had been through real war by the looks of it. More than before Marcus found himself feeling like a pretender who stayed at a holiday inn last night.
With a sigh, the man leapt down from the small shop he stood upon and continued to walk.
