01-06-2011, 11:06 PM
Roy Munin stood atop his literal soap box in the middle of the street, his fine suit soiled with oil and ash from aiding the waves of militia. His hands were held high in the air, fresh calluses formed on each of his palms. He wore a concerned look upon his face, the wrinkles of age creasing his forehead and around his lips.
“Citizens of Central City! Listen! Listen to me, please!” The people around him slowed and glanced up to him as they waded about the streets like the urchins they had all endeavored to become. “Where are you going? What are you doing? They looked at him like an alien, the answer plain and simple within their minds: To war! They thought. “You are fleeing the only thing that should be on our minds. You are abandoning your homes, your pets, you families… All for what? Do die on foreign soil? To die protecting some green skinned aliens? Think about your own. Think about the cities that will fall because we are off pretending to give a crap about namekians and arlians and changelings! Those fucking aliens that have tried to conquer us themselves? Let the saiyans have them, what should we care! Let the threat swell up and consume them. Maybe they’ll soften them up on the way to Earth, our home.”
The people around him seemed to share a conflicted sentiment. Who might disagree with a sentiment of protection of your siblings, spouses and children? But who was a common person on the street to know the complexity of war, especially when it had flung itself into space? The bombardment of planets, warp drives, interstellar interception, all of the concepts that it took years to master in specialized schools. For most of them, they went to space because that is where they had been called.
“Do not let them fool you into thinking that they will not come to Earth. They will! Don’t you think that an intergalactic conquest seems a bit suspect if one of the most prosperous planets in the galaxy is left out? I do. I know I do! You should too!” He thrust his fingers in the faces of the men that passed by and roared with fury when children were near causing them to cling to their mother’s pant legs and some even to burst to tears. That is what he wanted. He wanted them to be afraid, angry, scared. That’s how they should feel. Roy didn’t think he was lying about what he was saying. It was his home land, and he knew that people deserved better than a wasteland or imprisonment when they returned.
Most of the militia he had seen flying into space were either terrified citizenry or, worse yet, cold hearted cyborgs and aliens that went only because curiosity served them to or because some strange dictation that had forced their hand. Nobody gave a shit about Earth or its people. They were the underdogs, the stupid and weak of the galaxy. Never mind the fact that they had become the most prosperous small planet in the known universe.
He stepped down from the crate and took a man about the arm. “Sir, look at your family. Are you going to leave them here to die? Alone at the hand of some monster that nobody has ever known before?”
The man sneered at him and pulled his arm away violently. “Get off of me. You’re scaring my child.” He began to stalk away with his kindred in tow.
“So you want your children to be pillaged? Is that it?! You’re a coward, sir! A COWARD!” he yelled after them. The man suddenly stopped and spun on his heel. Speed walking forward the stranger clenched his hand into a steely ball and thrust it into Roy’s jaw, tossing him to the ground.
“Fuck. You, mister. We’re doin the best we can, and it’s better if you just let us do what we gotta do. We don’t know what’s gonna happen, but we’re gonna put them down.” He nodded firmly in that “Good Old Boys” way, like the whole problem had just been solved by punching a stranger in the face. He was probably from South City.
Getting to his feet, Roy wiped his lip for blood and stared the man down. “Will you be saying the sam thing when your wife is dead in your arms?”
The flannel wearing madman completely went off his rocker and assaulted Roy, grabbing him about the collar and ,tugging him to the ground. Pounding over and over again, he took a moment to correct his bright orange trucker hat before cracking him one more time and dismounting. The savage beating ended aptly by the man spitting on his downed foe. He trot back to his family and left the downed orator to wallow in his defeat.
Stagger back up, Roy shook his head and cupped his black eye and swollen cheek. Coughing once he tugged on the edges of his jacket and stepped back up on his crate. He cleared his throat and looked out over the crowds once again. Nothing would stop his word. Not now. Not when the lives of the people of Earth were at stake.
“I. Fucking. Hate. Roy. Munin.” Sigfried paced around the room in irritation. “I mean, really? REALLY? Oh yeah, let’s tug on the heart strings of the people of Central City by being a total douche.”
Skoll sighed and flipped the page of his newspaper and shook his head. “Well, it works. Now we have a whole seven people in the Earth’s Combined Militia. Fan-TASTIC!” He punctuated his statement by once again flipping the page.
Hati shuffled the skillet on the electric oven’s top and flipped his omelet over before turning back to the group. “Well at least we planted that bomb man. That’s the most important thing. Once people see that Roy isn’t just bull shitting them around we’ll gain momentum.” He slid the egg dish onto a plate and smothered it in spicy salsa. “Doesn’t he have that publicity thing on that one show… The like, Crossblow or whatever?”
Skoll scoffed. “Yeah, that oughtta really inspire the people…” He shook his head once again before closing the newspaper. “Well, this is bullshit.” He slammed the paper media into the table at his side. “Nothing makes any sense anymore.”
Sigfried rolled his eyes and wandered into the single bedroom of the tiny basement that they called home. “It never did make any sense. We’re trying to fix that. Remember?”
“Citizens of Central City! Listen! Listen to me, please!” The people around him slowed and glanced up to him as they waded about the streets like the urchins they had all endeavored to become. “Where are you going? What are you doing? They looked at him like an alien, the answer plain and simple within their minds: To war! They thought. “You are fleeing the only thing that should be on our minds. You are abandoning your homes, your pets, you families… All for what? Do die on foreign soil? To die protecting some green skinned aliens? Think about your own. Think about the cities that will fall because we are off pretending to give a crap about namekians and arlians and changelings! Those fucking aliens that have tried to conquer us themselves? Let the saiyans have them, what should we care! Let the threat swell up and consume them. Maybe they’ll soften them up on the way to Earth, our home.”
The people around him seemed to share a conflicted sentiment. Who might disagree with a sentiment of protection of your siblings, spouses and children? But who was a common person on the street to know the complexity of war, especially when it had flung itself into space? The bombardment of planets, warp drives, interstellar interception, all of the concepts that it took years to master in specialized schools. For most of them, they went to space because that is where they had been called.
“Do not let them fool you into thinking that they will not come to Earth. They will! Don’t you think that an intergalactic conquest seems a bit suspect if one of the most prosperous planets in the galaxy is left out? I do. I know I do! You should too!” He thrust his fingers in the faces of the men that passed by and roared with fury when children were near causing them to cling to their mother’s pant legs and some even to burst to tears. That is what he wanted. He wanted them to be afraid, angry, scared. That’s how they should feel. Roy didn’t think he was lying about what he was saying. It was his home land, and he knew that people deserved better than a wasteland or imprisonment when they returned.
Most of the militia he had seen flying into space were either terrified citizenry or, worse yet, cold hearted cyborgs and aliens that went only because curiosity served them to or because some strange dictation that had forced their hand. Nobody gave a shit about Earth or its people. They were the underdogs, the stupid and weak of the galaxy. Never mind the fact that they had become the most prosperous small planet in the known universe.
He stepped down from the crate and took a man about the arm. “Sir, look at your family. Are you going to leave them here to die? Alone at the hand of some monster that nobody has ever known before?”
The man sneered at him and pulled his arm away violently. “Get off of me. You’re scaring my child.” He began to stalk away with his kindred in tow.
“So you want your children to be pillaged? Is that it?! You’re a coward, sir! A COWARD!” he yelled after them. The man suddenly stopped and spun on his heel. Speed walking forward the stranger clenched his hand into a steely ball and thrust it into Roy’s jaw, tossing him to the ground.
“Fuck. You, mister. We’re doin the best we can, and it’s better if you just let us do what we gotta do. We don’t know what’s gonna happen, but we’re gonna put them down.” He nodded firmly in that “Good Old Boys” way, like the whole problem had just been solved by punching a stranger in the face. He was probably from South City.
Getting to his feet, Roy wiped his lip for blood and stared the man down. “Will you be saying the sam thing when your wife is dead in your arms?”
The flannel wearing madman completely went off his rocker and assaulted Roy, grabbing him about the collar and ,tugging him to the ground. Pounding over and over again, he took a moment to correct his bright orange trucker hat before cracking him one more time and dismounting. The savage beating ended aptly by the man spitting on his downed foe. He trot back to his family and left the downed orator to wallow in his defeat.
Stagger back up, Roy shook his head and cupped his black eye and swollen cheek. Coughing once he tugged on the edges of his jacket and stepped back up on his crate. He cleared his throat and looked out over the crowds once again. Nothing would stop his word. Not now. Not when the lives of the people of Earth were at stake.
--=~*/| o |\*~=--
“I. Fucking. Hate. Roy. Munin.” Sigfried paced around the room in irritation. “I mean, really? REALLY? Oh yeah, let’s tug on the heart strings of the people of Central City by being a total douche.”
Skoll sighed and flipped the page of his newspaper and shook his head. “Well, it works. Now we have a whole seven people in the Earth’s Combined Militia. Fan-TASTIC!” He punctuated his statement by once again flipping the page.
Hati shuffled the skillet on the electric oven’s top and flipped his omelet over before turning back to the group. “Well at least we planted that bomb man. That’s the most important thing. Once people see that Roy isn’t just bull shitting them around we’ll gain momentum.” He slid the egg dish onto a plate and smothered it in spicy salsa. “Doesn’t he have that publicity thing on that one show… The like, Crossblow or whatever?”
Skoll scoffed. “Yeah, that oughtta really inspire the people…” He shook his head once again before closing the newspaper. “Well, this is bullshit.” He slammed the paper media into the table at his side. “Nothing makes any sense anymore.”
Sigfried rolled his eyes and wandered into the single bedroom of the tiny basement that they called home. “It never did make any sense. We’re trying to fix that. Remember?”
[SIGPIC][/SIGPIC]