Post by Hunter on Jun 25, 2015 20:23:24 GMT -6
The group known as the Five sit around a six-seated roundish table, each man seemingly lost in their own little world. With the open space at what passes for the head of the table nearest the doorway, each man around the table allows himself to fall into his usual attention-driving activity. Johnny Hull, still sporting a couple of bruises given to him on the last UWA show by Fraser Freeman that stand out even more against his straight-as-can-be blonde hair. He looks at the tablet being used by the man next to him, the skinny as a rail, Shaggy-looking Craig Bush as Craig scans the latest lines on damn near everything.
Johnny Hull: You still gonna try and go to Vegas or Atlantic City or even…
Craig flips listings.
Craig Bush: Harrah’s downtown is good enough before hitting Biloxi.
Johnny nods excitedly, seemingly not even noticing he was cut off.
Johnny Hull: You still play pennies backstage?
Craig nods.
Craig Bush: Of course, Teamsters are always up for that kind of action.
Sitting across from them, the long dirty blond-haired and bearded Rod Fielding glances up from his tablet where their flight and driving itineraries sit side by side. He glances up every so often trying to decide if it’s really worth it to yell at the two younger men across from him to pipe down, generally deciding it wouldn’t make a difference anyway before shaking his head at it all and looking back to his work. Sitting to his right, the dark-haired and good-looking Robert Resnik, looks around the room nervously, waiting for the other shoe to drop. He glances down at his watch, hoping this meeting, whatever it turns out to be, won’t take long so he can go get tanked in peace even if he does end up having to babysit Johnny again.
Robert Resnik: Man, are we gonna… or…?
Nobody bothers looking at him, the tablets holding Johnny, Craig and Rod’s collective attention as if what they are looking at constitutes the single greatest thing any of them have ever seen to this point in their entire lives. Robert shakes his head, his anxiety threatening to swallow him whole.
Robert Resnik: Aw, Man… oh, Man, oh, Man, oh, Man...
Taking in the scene from the middle seat facing the doorway, the largest member and nominal leader of the group, Ray Smyth lets his teeth grind as the others all try and ignore everything else around them. He sits back in his chair for a second, the light making his bleached hair look almost chrome with his dark mustache seems to match his eyes and his mood.
Ray Smyth: HEY!!!
His fist pounds the table and the four remaining men all look up, Rod looking annoyed while Johnny, Craig and Robert all look varying levels of shocked and just a little afraid.
Ray Smyth: If you can finish powdering your pussies for a second, maybe we should all talk about how Johnny damn near got himself aced!
Johnny sits back in his chair, looking ready to run for the hills rather than face Ray’s death glare. Craig sits his tablet down, trying desperately to keep one eye on Ray and the other on the lines running down the screen.
Craig Bush: Aw, come on, Ray, he was just…
Ray’s glare moves from Johnny to Craig.
Ray Smyth: Shut the fuck up and turn that damn thing off before you lose more money none of us have!
Cowed, Craig reaches one shaking hand out to the tablet, touching a spot to make the screen go blank. Ray moves his glare back to Johnny.
Ray Smyth: The fuck were you thinking going out there and sitting on the dude’s bike like that?
Johnny stares back at Ray, thunderstruck.
Johnny Hull: I…
He trails off and Rod looks up from his spot.
Rod Fielding: You did tell him to go get Freeman’s attention.
Ray’s glare wheels on Rod.
Ray Smyth: You’re paid to plan, not make excuses!
Rod shrugs, looking away.
Rod Fielding: Whatever, not like it matters anyway, he’s still here.
Ray pounds the table again.
Ray Smyth: Look at his face and tell me it’s nothing again! I don’t want that wannabe getting ideas that he’s some kind of badass just because Johnny is an idiot!
Johnny folds his arms, trying not to look like he’s pouting.
Johnny Hull: He didn’t get me that good…
Ray’s glare moves right back to Johnny.
Ray Smyth: Next time you have a stupid ass idea like that…
Johnny sits back further in his chair as he prepares for the detonation he knows to be coming. Just then, the door opens and Cole Hunter walks in. he takes one look at the entire room and smirks with amusement.
Cole Hunter: Gentlemen, entertainment at the expense of cohesion accomplishes nothing.
All five just look at him as he nods to them individually.
Cole Hunter: Enhance your calm, Raymond, John acted exactly as instructed. The result, while not as welcome as possible, encouraged exactly as intended.
He nods to Johnny.
Cole Hunter: You did well, John.
Johnny can’t help but smile as Ray sits down, brooding. Craig, Robert and Rod remain impassive, knowing full well Ray’s fury will be given voice later and it won’t be pretty for whichever one of them is on the receiving end of things.
Cole Hunter: Rodney, have proper arrangements been put in place?
Rod nods.
Rod Fielding: We’ll all be in place in Mississippi, so long as Craig doesn’t try to sneak off to Biloxi before the show’s over again.
Craig sits up in shock.
Craig Bush: That was ONE time!
Rod shrugs and Johnny chuckles.
Rod Fielding: Just stick to hustling the Teamsters and other arena workers until we’re done.
Craig’s eyes flash hungrily.
Craig Bush: I can do that…
Johnny smirks, unable to stop himself.
Johnny Hull: Wanna bet?
Before Craig can answer, Cole nods to the table.
Cole Hunter: Miss J must remain undiscovered until the opportune moment for revelation arrives. The Protector’s efforts in futility continue until revelation is granted and some crossfire will enact difficulties. Preparations must be completed to minimize such difficulties.
Rod nods.
Rod Fielding: We’ll be ready, not that it matters.
Cole smirks.
Cole Hunter: Relevance is not gained in preparation.
He stands up and nods to them.
Cole Hunter: Entertainment opportunities abound in such a target-rich environment…
Robert looks around, his eyes wide.
Robert Resnik: Do you mean us? Does he mean us?
Cole simply nods and starts out as the Five sit there pondering everything amongst themselves. twenty minutes later, he arrives at the parking lot to a New Orleans grocery store to find a camera crew waiting for him. He steps from his vehicle and walks up to them, nodding cordially.
Cole Hunter: Greetings and salutations, are current preparations acceptable?
The crew nods and turns on the camera. Cole smirks as the picture fades in on him.
Cole Hunter: Greetings and salutations, interrogation engages at your leisure.
The camera operator frowns for a second.
The Cameraman: Does that mean start?
Cole nods.
The Cameraman: Why did you pick a fight with Fraser Freeman?
Cole can’t help but allow his amusement to shine through.
Cole Hunter: Assumptions may prove fatal in the absence of factual evidence.
Again, the operator frowns and Cole nods to him.
Cole Hunter: The Protector engages activities on his own schedule.
The camera operator nods slowly.
The Cameraman: So, you’re saying he came to you?
Cole nods again.
Cole Hunter: Understanding resonates when the burden is pondered properly.
Sighing heavily, the operator widens the shot slightly.
The Cameraman: Where is Jade?
Cole’s smirk deepens in intensity.
Cole Hunter: An exquisite specimen of the female form, currently indisposed and obligated to.
The Cameraman: When you spoke to Danika Bayne previously…
Cole nods.
Cole Hunter: To touch such a wondrous creation is my fortuitous reality. Enjoyment, pleasure and entertainment all sit at our disposal, simply awaiting to be engaged…
He pauses, certain visions clearly dancing in his head.
Cole Hunter: Our danse macabre shall entrance and entice the assembled teeming masses into visions of ecstasy previously unknown. Anticipation elevates for our encounter with every drawn breath…
With his tongue suddenly dancing between his teeth, Cole nods knowingly.
Cole Hunter: A Harbinger of Sorrow greets a Hunter in full view of the engorged hunger that knows no bounds…
The camera operator just stares at him, taken aback by the implication. This does not escape Cole.
Cole Hunter: Famishus Famishus, indeed.
He turns and walks off leaving the cameraman standing there in stunned disbelief.
Johnny Hull: You still gonna try and go to Vegas or Atlantic City or even…
Craig flips listings.
Craig Bush: Harrah’s downtown is good enough before hitting Biloxi.
Johnny nods excitedly, seemingly not even noticing he was cut off.
Johnny Hull: You still play pennies backstage?
Craig nods.
Craig Bush: Of course, Teamsters are always up for that kind of action.
Sitting across from them, the long dirty blond-haired and bearded Rod Fielding glances up from his tablet where their flight and driving itineraries sit side by side. He glances up every so often trying to decide if it’s really worth it to yell at the two younger men across from him to pipe down, generally deciding it wouldn’t make a difference anyway before shaking his head at it all and looking back to his work. Sitting to his right, the dark-haired and good-looking Robert Resnik, looks around the room nervously, waiting for the other shoe to drop. He glances down at his watch, hoping this meeting, whatever it turns out to be, won’t take long so he can go get tanked in peace even if he does end up having to babysit Johnny again.
Robert Resnik: Man, are we gonna… or…?
Nobody bothers looking at him, the tablets holding Johnny, Craig and Rod’s collective attention as if what they are looking at constitutes the single greatest thing any of them have ever seen to this point in their entire lives. Robert shakes his head, his anxiety threatening to swallow him whole.
Robert Resnik: Aw, Man… oh, Man, oh, Man, oh, Man...
Taking in the scene from the middle seat facing the doorway, the largest member and nominal leader of the group, Ray Smyth lets his teeth grind as the others all try and ignore everything else around them. He sits back in his chair for a second, the light making his bleached hair look almost chrome with his dark mustache seems to match his eyes and his mood.
Ray Smyth: HEY!!!
His fist pounds the table and the four remaining men all look up, Rod looking annoyed while Johnny, Craig and Robert all look varying levels of shocked and just a little afraid.
Ray Smyth: If you can finish powdering your pussies for a second, maybe we should all talk about how Johnny damn near got himself aced!
Johnny sits back in his chair, looking ready to run for the hills rather than face Ray’s death glare. Craig sits his tablet down, trying desperately to keep one eye on Ray and the other on the lines running down the screen.
Craig Bush: Aw, come on, Ray, he was just…
Ray’s glare moves from Johnny to Craig.
Ray Smyth: Shut the fuck up and turn that damn thing off before you lose more money none of us have!
Cowed, Craig reaches one shaking hand out to the tablet, touching a spot to make the screen go blank. Ray moves his glare back to Johnny.
Ray Smyth: The fuck were you thinking going out there and sitting on the dude’s bike like that?
Johnny stares back at Ray, thunderstruck.
Johnny Hull: I…
He trails off and Rod looks up from his spot.
Rod Fielding: You did tell him to go get Freeman’s attention.
Ray’s glare wheels on Rod.
Ray Smyth: You’re paid to plan, not make excuses!
Rod shrugs, looking away.
Rod Fielding: Whatever, not like it matters anyway, he’s still here.
Ray pounds the table again.
Ray Smyth: Look at his face and tell me it’s nothing again! I don’t want that wannabe getting ideas that he’s some kind of badass just because Johnny is an idiot!
Johnny folds his arms, trying not to look like he’s pouting.
Johnny Hull: He didn’t get me that good…
Ray’s glare moves right back to Johnny.
Ray Smyth: Next time you have a stupid ass idea like that…
Johnny sits back further in his chair as he prepares for the detonation he knows to be coming. Just then, the door opens and Cole Hunter walks in. he takes one look at the entire room and smirks with amusement.
Cole Hunter: Gentlemen, entertainment at the expense of cohesion accomplishes nothing.
All five just look at him as he nods to them individually.
Cole Hunter: Enhance your calm, Raymond, John acted exactly as instructed. The result, while not as welcome as possible, encouraged exactly as intended.
He nods to Johnny.
Cole Hunter: You did well, John.
Johnny can’t help but smile as Ray sits down, brooding. Craig, Robert and Rod remain impassive, knowing full well Ray’s fury will be given voice later and it won’t be pretty for whichever one of them is on the receiving end of things.
Cole Hunter: Rodney, have proper arrangements been put in place?
Rod nods.
Rod Fielding: We’ll all be in place in Mississippi, so long as Craig doesn’t try to sneak off to Biloxi before the show’s over again.
Craig sits up in shock.
Craig Bush: That was ONE time!
Rod shrugs and Johnny chuckles.
Rod Fielding: Just stick to hustling the Teamsters and other arena workers until we’re done.
Craig’s eyes flash hungrily.
Craig Bush: I can do that…
Johnny smirks, unable to stop himself.
Johnny Hull: Wanna bet?
Before Craig can answer, Cole nods to the table.
Cole Hunter: Miss J must remain undiscovered until the opportune moment for revelation arrives. The Protector’s efforts in futility continue until revelation is granted and some crossfire will enact difficulties. Preparations must be completed to minimize such difficulties.
Rod nods.
Rod Fielding: We’ll be ready, not that it matters.
Cole smirks.
Cole Hunter: Relevance is not gained in preparation.
He stands up and nods to them.
Cole Hunter: Entertainment opportunities abound in such a target-rich environment…
Robert looks around, his eyes wide.
Robert Resnik: Do you mean us? Does he mean us?
Cole simply nods and starts out as the Five sit there pondering everything amongst themselves. twenty minutes later, he arrives at the parking lot to a New Orleans grocery store to find a camera crew waiting for him. He steps from his vehicle and walks up to them, nodding cordially.
Cole Hunter: Greetings and salutations, are current preparations acceptable?
The crew nods and turns on the camera. Cole smirks as the picture fades in on him.
Cole Hunter: Greetings and salutations, interrogation engages at your leisure.
The camera operator frowns for a second.
The Cameraman: Does that mean start?
Cole nods.
The Cameraman: Why did you pick a fight with Fraser Freeman?
Cole can’t help but allow his amusement to shine through.
Cole Hunter: Assumptions may prove fatal in the absence of factual evidence.
Again, the operator frowns and Cole nods to him.
Cole Hunter: The Protector engages activities on his own schedule.
The camera operator nods slowly.
The Cameraman: So, you’re saying he came to you?
Cole nods again.
Cole Hunter: Understanding resonates when the burden is pondered properly.
Sighing heavily, the operator widens the shot slightly.
The Cameraman: Where is Jade?
Cole’s smirk deepens in intensity.
Cole Hunter: An exquisite specimen of the female form, currently indisposed and obligated to.
The Cameraman: When you spoke to Danika Bayne previously…
Cole nods.
Cole Hunter: To touch such a wondrous creation is my fortuitous reality. Enjoyment, pleasure and entertainment all sit at our disposal, simply awaiting to be engaged…
He pauses, certain visions clearly dancing in his head.
Cole Hunter: Our danse macabre shall entrance and entice the assembled teeming masses into visions of ecstasy previously unknown. Anticipation elevates for our encounter with every drawn breath…
With his tongue suddenly dancing between his teeth, Cole nods knowingly.
Cole Hunter: A Harbinger of Sorrow greets a Hunter in full view of the engorged hunger that knows no bounds…
The camera operator just stares at him, taken aback by the implication. This does not escape Cole.
Cole Hunter: Famishus Famishus, indeed.
He turns and walks off leaving the cameraman standing there in stunned disbelief.
