Haze & Chaos - Retaliation Part 11
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“...I had the weirdest dream the other week,” Will said after he had a bite of his cheeseburger, the ketchup dripping out the other side. Him, Sam, Pace, and Liam were having lunch at Charlie’s Diner the next day, a favorite eatery for Pace… albeit the 80s, tiles and chromed-styled restaurant was not exactly a place one would expect to have a conversation about dreams and goings-on of Gemini.
Pace nodded as he wiped his face with a napkin, subtly glancing around to make sure no one was listening in. They were sitting at a table at the far end of the restaurant, but it was still lunch time and people were coming and going regardless. “Well might as well get this off your chest too,” he encouraged as he sipped some of his soda through a straw.
“So, it was a surreal dream–one of those ones where it’s not a nightmare, but it might as well be one. I was… I was somewhere else, like an alternate universe–not one we’re terribly familiar with. And I was an angel, specifically before I left heaven, back when I was a Gray Angel–”
“Wait, Boyo,” Sam interjected as she enjoyed some of her french fries, being nice and big crinkle cuts. “You actually remember some of your true self?”
“Starting to. Ahem, anyways; I was in the middle of a ruined city with this… undead werewolf, I guess–”
“Undead?” Pace questioned. “Jeez, and I thought my dreams were getting surreal recently…”
Liam paused and lowered his cheeseburger slightly. “Wait, just what kind of dreams have you been having as of late then?”
“We’ll save that convo for later–right now it’s Will’s turn.”
Will took a bite of his food and nodded, readjusting his position as the faux-leather seat creaked a little. “Undead in the sense that it was some kind of pagan ritual, I guess… Me and him were… had been arguing, but we were going after this church, which was like this order of holy knights and…”
“What religion?” Pace asked. “Do you remember?”
Will sipped some of his soda to help jog his memory, the cold, fizzy caramel flavor tasting good and making him want to subtly smile, despite the nature of their conversation. “Catholic… I think… maybe hints of Protestantism and Judaism–”
“HA, okay, I can already see where this is going,” Pace mocked, but not towards Will.
“We were caught on the spot as holy knights started spilling out of the church, and some of them were carrying a giant, beat-up cross and planted it firmly in the ground. They were yelling at us that were sent by the devil and that we would not cross the holy protection of the Lord and Jesus, and that we would burn for our sins–resulting in them reciting a hymn and causing a bright, blinding light to envelope the cross, summoning some weird kind of manifestation of Jesus crucified…” Will paused and chuckled for some reason, slightly unnerving Pace and Liam. “Me and the Werewolf were unable to move, but then he started chanting something that sounded like void spells, but they were clearly Norse words. My vision was blinded, but then I saw what the holy knights had actually summoned: a demon who was playing the part of Jesus, and that just ignited my rage to no end. Normally I have a hard time shouting in dreams, but in this case I was screaming my lungs out that they were worshipers of Satan. I then summoned what had to be a gigantic greatsword and the werewolf summoned a giant war axe made from some kind of metallic, ancient tree, and we leapt up to bring our blades down on the cross… and then I woke up.”
“I remember Boyo waking up in a cold sweat that day,” Sam put in. “He wouldn’t stop pacing up and down the upstairs hall, so we went to Ellen, and thankfully he was able to vividly remember the dream…”
“How vividly?” Liam inquired after finishing up his drink.
“Vivid–everything Boyo just told you is exactly what he told Me and Ellen… albeit he forgot some of the minor details.”
Liam leaned back for a second to think, glancing out the large set of glass walls and seeing some cars pass by, then stroking his chin. “Will, that wasn’t a dream–remember Operation God’s Head? When everyone thought the God’s Head users were just crazy, and everyone kept having weird dreams that we found out were the result of gnostic entities?”
“Oh yeah, that headache…” Will groaned. “God, I hate gnosticism…”
“Same,” Sam said to inform Pace and Liam.
Liam leaned in a little, his shadow construct body unable to hide the old serious look of his previous human form. “Will, when you have a dream that vivid, it’s either a premonition, or something that’s happened elsewhere in your case–I’m sure of it.”
Pace nodded as he started gathering up all of the garbage on the tray they had been given, followed by him putting together the tip. “And jog my memory, Liam, but didn’t Ultinn try to pull some dream bullshit with those Audoin constructs he tried to invade with, back in Operation New Years ‘22?”
“Yeah. Will, did that werewolf have black fur?” Liam questioned as they started to make their way out of the restaurant. “And was he big?”
“Mm-hm,” he answered as they stepped outside, back into the cold city air. “Oh, I think… oh what’s his name… Akira! Yeah, I think Akira was there!”
“Thanks for the burgers, Chuck!” Pace called out to the inside as the door shut behind them. “Also Akira? What Akira? Akira Diggory, the guy who works with The MVP and The Reality Walkers?”
“Yeah, I think it was him…” Will then noticed Sam was looking at him weird. “What?”
“Boyo, how do you know him?” she questioned. “I mean yeah, you’ve heard of him, and he has visited the guild recently–but that was during the Future Squad mission.”
“I… don’t know…” he answered as he looked down at his hand, with what appeared to be scars fading into nothingness in his palm. That oddity seemed to catch Will off guard, with him visibly confused as he tried to rack his mind for memories that were not there at the moment.
Pace had caught a glimpse of Will’s hand, but elected not to say anything as he was not sure what to say–Will was getting weirder and weirder by the day. “Well, not much we can do about it other than ask Akira himself what he thinks, given that I’ve been looking into the stuff relating to Universe-21HTP and CCXL9,” he concluded. “Anyways, shame we couldn’t get Antonio and Quincy along with us.”
“Yeah, but Antonio wanted to go exploring and obviously Quincy tagged along,” Will replied as they started walking down the sidewalk. “Antonio wanted to go see some of the old places related to where The Crace Family were active–you know, all that Professor Marcel stuff from the early 1900s. So anyways, I had a weird thought–you ever feel mad when you see your ‘enemy,’ but it’s because you're both on the same side, but you don’t want to admit it?”
“Well that’s a bit specific…” Liam noted as they stopped near a bus stop–not to board one, but to analyze what Will had proposed.
Pace chuckled and shook his head. “Are you mad because they did something bad? Or because you want to join them and don’t want to admit it?”
“Yeah, that!” Will answered. “It’s always because there is something worse, like people pretending to care, or using their faith or ideals as an excuse for their agenda–like those idiot holy knights me and the werewolf dealt with. And I have a strong feeling those holy knights were gullible enough to fit in alongside Laurence and Kenneth.”
Sam was making a note of Will’s uncanny recognition and nodded as unpleasant memories returned to her. “Well that’s how it usually starts out, Boyo. The bad guys come in, pretend to care, get you all hyped up on protecting the people, and then BAM–you get one of your best friends killed and have to fight a war against a bloodthirsty psychopath who wants to destroy the Cosmos…”
Little did Sam realize it, but someone familiar to her recognized her voice off in the distance. An energetic, fit woman with long, curly red hair and golden eyes felt her heart skip a beat as she rounded the corner. “Morrigan?” It could not have been… “MORRIGAN!” she cried in longing joy.
The group heard this and were stunned to hear someone using Sam’s true name, but Sam recognized that voice immediately. “Wait, Sarah?!” And then she was picked up for a hug and swung around. “Sarah-belle!”
“Morrigan!” she said as she gave her bestie one last squeeze before setting her down. “Finally found you! What happened to you? I heard you showed back up at The ULTRAMagic Guild, but I was too busy to visit.”
Sam turned into Morrigan and felt the need to hug her best friend tightly. “Geez, I’m sorry, Sarah, and for all the nonsense I put us through all those years ago!” After taking a moment to calm herself, she started the introductions. “Sarah, this is my finance, Will. Will, this is Sarah-belle Duzasstenn, one of the people who was trying to knock some sense into my head back before The Tyrant War.”
Sarah-belle smiled as she shook Will’s hand, but it felt like a knowing-smirk kind of smile. “I take it Morrigan has reined in her desire to save the Cosmos?”
“Sarah!” Morrigan chided, causing the others to laugh.
“Yeah, she’s a lot better about it now,” Will replied with a chuckle.
“And don’t worry, I already know Pace and Liam,” Sarah-belle pointed out. “Hey, guys.”
“Good to see you again, Sarah,” said Liam. He then noticed a plastic bag floating around and picked up it to throw it out in a nearby trashcan.
Pace quickly glanced towards the direction she had come from, sensing something. “You’re a little far into the Earth-side of Night Salem today…’
Sarah-belle brushed off her coat as if nervous. “Well, um… there’s a bit of an incident going on over at Central Park…”
Will stepped forward with a serious look in his eye, as a surge of adrenaline gave him a pretty good idea on who it was. “Mind telling us? Because I got a pretty good feeling…”
Sarah-belle was surprised by the readiness and desire to do something about the situation, which to her said Morrigan was still the same old Morrigan she knew all those years ago. “Well, those dirtbags, Laurence and Kenneth, are attempting some kind publicity stunt… thing... I don’t know, they’re saying stupid shit down at central park, and nobody’s taking it lying down.”
“Oh jeez,” Pace complained, then noticed Will visibly getting angry. “Uh oh–rage at 12 o’clock…”
“DAMN IT ALL!” Will said as he tensed up, clenched his fists, and let out an explosive burst of deep red and orange smoke from his neck that nearly knocked his head off.
“Easy, Boyo,” Morrigan tried to say to calm him. “Let’s just head back to the hotel and–”
“EVERYONE WILL BE LUCKY THE TRIAL DOESN’T END RIGHT HERE AND NOW,” he growled as he began storming off towards Central Park
“BOYO!” Morrigan called out as she followed him.
“Will, what about what Abraham said!?” Liam protested.
“Ha, I don’t think he’s listening,” Pace pointed out as he indicated for Sarah-belle and Liam to follow the two. “Besides, he’ll need witnesses for Laurence making an ass of himself…”
Liam groaned as the city began to warp around them as Will led the way to Central Park. “Argh, that’s not making me worry any less, Pace!”
Outside the forest of Central Park things were certainly chaotic and noisy, as two, vile men were attempting to speak to a crowd that were booing and shouting at them to go away. To say it was more like they were arguing with the crowd that had gathered was more accurate, and only their corrupt fortitude could openly ignore the scathing mockery they were rightfully receiving. One of them was an out of shape, balding man with a crooked nose, gray hair, and scratched glasses. His disposition was immediately one of an authoritarian who claimed he cared only as lip service. It also looked like he could have had a heart attack from high blood pressure at any moment, but the public would never be that lucky. And the group of lawyers he was flanked by certainly were not helping his image, shifty and unscrupulous, like they embodied the ‘social cohesion’ narrative of the justice system.
The other man was of a tall, unnaturally fit build with combed, grayish-blonde hair and the predisposition for the fakest smile imaginable–one that screamed he was ruining everything while willingly ignoring all of the backlash in service of his terrible agenda. He was running damage control for his cohort, which was something he prided himself for… ignoring the fact that he was not actually good at it. And then Will and the group came into view, with some of the lawyers panicking, trying to get the attention of their client. Will was hurrying down the sidewalk with rage in his expression with a plume of dark gray smoke trailing behind him, like death itself was going to debate someone whose time was coming and kept trying to argue against their mortality in the most entitled way possible. Will spotted Laurence Duckenfield and Kenneth Stainthorpe immediately, zeroing in on his targets with inevitably weighing down upon all of them.
“LAURENCE DUCKENFIELD, YOU RAT BASTARD!” Will roared with rage that felt like he was about to start laying into his enemy.
“ARGH, Mr. Ford–come to sabotage your end of the trial?” Laurence croaked in an aged voice that was grating like nails on a chalkboard as he marched towards the man. “Very unsportsman of you, but as to be expected from an alt-right–”
“ALT-RIGHT!?!” Will barked back as he made Laurence stumble backwards with a burst of his aura, manifesting as smoke that quickly dissipated. “OKAY, SO WE WENT FROM ESPIONAGE TO OUTRIGHT SLANDER, IS THAT IT!?!”
“HEY, BACK OFF, JACK,” One of the lawyers said as they tried to wrestle Will back, only for Pace to intervene.
“WHOA, BUDDY,” Pace said as he shoved the lawyer into the arms of the other, maintaining his unwavering confidence throughout. “Let’s not get handsy here, given that… Christ, how many potential witnesses are here? 20? 30?” This made some of the crowd chuckle.
A strong-looking man with brown hair and a short beard walked up and thrust his finger in Laurence’s face and said “Hilarious you’re trying to sling mud given your track record, horse teeth–say whatever you want, but that doesn’t change the fact that Mr. Ford is a true American hero! And I’ve been doing some digging on old Laurence here–he is in direct violation of The Espionage Act of 1917!”
“THANK YOU, SIR,” Will proudly agreed. “AND FURTHERMORE–”
“It is prudent to point out that American laws do not apply to non-American individuals,” Kenneth tried to deflect. His voice was a tenor with an expected British accent, but something about it sounded like it had been corrupted by some kind of evil magic.
“THAT’S NOT HOW THAT WORKS,” the brown-haired man fired back . “You’re on American soil, you braindead limey!”
Kenneth kept going, despite his pension for confrontation and smearing his enemies flaring up. “And it stands to reason that Mr. Ford is subject to British laws for interacting with and inconveniencing Sir Duckenfield, given that all countries must obey the law–”
“OH YEAH RIGHT,” a younger man in the crowd shouted. “WHO WON THE REVOLUTIONARY WAR, BITCH!?” This elicited a round of fierce cheers in support of the refutation
It was easy to tell Will was ready to start being a smartass from the gesture he was going into it. “Furthermore, I don’t talk to anti-free speech authoritarians unless they present their ID to me,” he stated as he crossed his arms and turned away.
“What?!” Kenneth exclaimed in an offended tone.
“Nope, don’t talk to me unless you present your ID–I need to make sure you’re not a child.”
“NOW WHY WOULD I DO THAT?” Kenneth scolded.
“Well gee, don’t you support age verification and digital ID?” Morrigan mocked with a teasing tone. “Surely you got nothing to hide, aye, MP?” This resulted in Kenneth stuttering gibberish as the crowd pointed and laughed, as he could not just pedal the lip service to placate the masses given the rising anger towards him (and even then it would not work).
Laurence, stewing in his self-entitled, unjustified rage, looked like he was about to burst a vein. “YOUR PATHETIC EXCUSE FOR A COUNTRY SHOULD HAVE NEVER EXISTED IN THE FIRST PLACE. You dare speak out against the government!? TRAITORS FROM THE DAY ONE! Your miserable ‘constitution’ is just a piece of paper, AND IF I HAVE MY WAY, I’LL MAKE SURE YOU HOLD YOUR TONGUE AND DO WHAT I SAY FOR THE REST OF YOUR DAYS!”
“OVER MY DEAD BODY, YOU AUTHORITARIAN PIECE OF SHIT!!!” Will screamed at the top of his lungs as he started shoving Laurence, with him shoving back. He did not care how it made him look, Will had officially had enough of Laurence and Kenneth’s nonsense.
And as the tension mounted like it was about to erupt forth into a massive brawl, with people shouting and roaring that Laurence needed to go, drowning out the desperate attempts of the screaming lawyers to get their client out of there–a sudden crack of thunder scared everyone into silence, with two men walking up to the quelled commotion. “Sir Kenneth Stainthorpe in the flesh–well I'll be damned!” Scotty announced with a mocking glee whose nuance was lost upon those who had their adrenaline settling, stealing the spotlight from the troublemakers.
Next:
ULTRAMagic Alternate © 2022 William Ford II (ChaoticTempleKnight)
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“...I had the weirdest dream the other week,” Will said after he had a bite of his cheeseburger, the ketchup dripping out the other side. Him, Sam, Pace, and Liam were having lunch at Charlie’s Diner the next day, a favorite eatery for Pace… albeit the 80s, tiles and chromed-styled restaurant was not exactly a place one would expect to have a conversation about dreams and goings-on of Gemini.
Pace nodded as he wiped his face with a napkin, subtly glancing around to make sure no one was listening in. They were sitting at a table at the far end of the restaurant, but it was still lunch time and people were coming and going regardless. “Well might as well get this off your chest too,” he encouraged as he sipped some of his soda through a straw.
“So, it was a surreal dream–one of those ones where it’s not a nightmare, but it might as well be one. I was… I was somewhere else, like an alternate universe–not one we’re terribly familiar with. And I was an angel, specifically before I left heaven, back when I was a Gray Angel–”
“Wait, Boyo,” Sam interjected as she enjoyed some of her french fries, being nice and big crinkle cuts. “You actually remember some of your true self?”
“Starting to. Ahem, anyways; I was in the middle of a ruined city with this… undead werewolf, I guess–”
“Undead?” Pace questioned. “Jeez, and I thought my dreams were getting surreal recently…”
Liam paused and lowered his cheeseburger slightly. “Wait, just what kind of dreams have you been having as of late then?”
“We’ll save that convo for later–right now it’s Will’s turn.”
Will took a bite of his food and nodded, readjusting his position as the faux-leather seat creaked a little. “Undead in the sense that it was some kind of pagan ritual, I guess… Me and him were… had been arguing, but we were going after this church, which was like this order of holy knights and…”
“What religion?” Pace asked. “Do you remember?”
Will sipped some of his soda to help jog his memory, the cold, fizzy caramel flavor tasting good and making him want to subtly smile, despite the nature of their conversation. “Catholic… I think… maybe hints of Protestantism and Judaism–”
“HA, okay, I can already see where this is going,” Pace mocked, but not towards Will.
“We were caught on the spot as holy knights started spilling out of the church, and some of them were carrying a giant, beat-up cross and planted it firmly in the ground. They were yelling at us that were sent by the devil and that we would not cross the holy protection of the Lord and Jesus, and that we would burn for our sins–resulting in them reciting a hymn and causing a bright, blinding light to envelope the cross, summoning some weird kind of manifestation of Jesus crucified…” Will paused and chuckled for some reason, slightly unnerving Pace and Liam. “Me and the Werewolf were unable to move, but then he started chanting something that sounded like void spells, but they were clearly Norse words. My vision was blinded, but then I saw what the holy knights had actually summoned: a demon who was playing the part of Jesus, and that just ignited my rage to no end. Normally I have a hard time shouting in dreams, but in this case I was screaming my lungs out that they were worshipers of Satan. I then summoned what had to be a gigantic greatsword and the werewolf summoned a giant war axe made from some kind of metallic, ancient tree, and we leapt up to bring our blades down on the cross… and then I woke up.”
“I remember Boyo waking up in a cold sweat that day,” Sam put in. “He wouldn’t stop pacing up and down the upstairs hall, so we went to Ellen, and thankfully he was able to vividly remember the dream…”
“How vividly?” Liam inquired after finishing up his drink.
“Vivid–everything Boyo just told you is exactly what he told Me and Ellen… albeit he forgot some of the minor details.”
Liam leaned back for a second to think, glancing out the large set of glass walls and seeing some cars pass by, then stroking his chin. “Will, that wasn’t a dream–remember Operation God’s Head? When everyone thought the God’s Head users were just crazy, and everyone kept having weird dreams that we found out were the result of gnostic entities?”
“Oh yeah, that headache…” Will groaned. “God, I hate gnosticism…”
“Same,” Sam said to inform Pace and Liam.
Liam leaned in a little, his shadow construct body unable to hide the old serious look of his previous human form. “Will, when you have a dream that vivid, it’s either a premonition, or something that’s happened elsewhere in your case–I’m sure of it.”
Pace nodded as he started gathering up all of the garbage on the tray they had been given, followed by him putting together the tip. “And jog my memory, Liam, but didn’t Ultinn try to pull some dream bullshit with those Audoin constructs he tried to invade with, back in Operation New Years ‘22?”
“Yeah. Will, did that werewolf have black fur?” Liam questioned as they started to make their way out of the restaurant. “And was he big?”
“Mm-hm,” he answered as they stepped outside, back into the cold city air. “Oh, I think… oh what’s his name… Akira! Yeah, I think Akira was there!”
“Thanks for the burgers, Chuck!” Pace called out to the inside as the door shut behind them. “Also Akira? What Akira? Akira Diggory, the guy who works with The MVP and The Reality Walkers?”
“Yeah, I think it was him…” Will then noticed Sam was looking at him weird. “What?”
“Boyo, how do you know him?” she questioned. “I mean yeah, you’ve heard of him, and he has visited the guild recently–but that was during the Future Squad mission.”
“I… don’t know…” he answered as he looked down at his hand, with what appeared to be scars fading into nothingness in his palm. That oddity seemed to catch Will off guard, with him visibly confused as he tried to rack his mind for memories that were not there at the moment.
Pace had caught a glimpse of Will’s hand, but elected not to say anything as he was not sure what to say–Will was getting weirder and weirder by the day. “Well, not much we can do about it other than ask Akira himself what he thinks, given that I’ve been looking into the stuff relating to Universe-21HTP and CCXL9,” he concluded. “Anyways, shame we couldn’t get Antonio and Quincy along with us.”
“Yeah, but Antonio wanted to go exploring and obviously Quincy tagged along,” Will replied as they started walking down the sidewalk. “Antonio wanted to go see some of the old places related to where The Crace Family were active–you know, all that Professor Marcel stuff from the early 1900s. So anyways, I had a weird thought–you ever feel mad when you see your ‘enemy,’ but it’s because you're both on the same side, but you don’t want to admit it?”
“Well that’s a bit specific…” Liam noted as they stopped near a bus stop–not to board one, but to analyze what Will had proposed.
Pace chuckled and shook his head. “Are you mad because they did something bad? Or because you want to join them and don’t want to admit it?”
“Yeah, that!” Will answered. “It’s always because there is something worse, like people pretending to care, or using their faith or ideals as an excuse for their agenda–like those idiot holy knights me and the werewolf dealt with. And I have a strong feeling those holy knights were gullible enough to fit in alongside Laurence and Kenneth.”
Sam was making a note of Will’s uncanny recognition and nodded as unpleasant memories returned to her. “Well that’s how it usually starts out, Boyo. The bad guys come in, pretend to care, get you all hyped up on protecting the people, and then BAM–you get one of your best friends killed and have to fight a war against a bloodthirsty psychopath who wants to destroy the Cosmos…”
Little did Sam realize it, but someone familiar to her recognized her voice off in the distance. An energetic, fit woman with long, curly red hair and golden eyes felt her heart skip a beat as she rounded the corner. “Morrigan?” It could not have been… “MORRIGAN!” she cried in longing joy.
The group heard this and were stunned to hear someone using Sam’s true name, but Sam recognized that voice immediately. “Wait, Sarah?!” And then she was picked up for a hug and swung around. “Sarah-belle!”
“Morrigan!” she said as she gave her bestie one last squeeze before setting her down. “Finally found you! What happened to you? I heard you showed back up at The ULTRAMagic Guild, but I was too busy to visit.”
Sam turned into Morrigan and felt the need to hug her best friend tightly. “Geez, I’m sorry, Sarah, and for all the nonsense I put us through all those years ago!” After taking a moment to calm herself, she started the introductions. “Sarah, this is my finance, Will. Will, this is Sarah-belle Duzasstenn, one of the people who was trying to knock some sense into my head back before The Tyrant War.”
Sarah-belle smiled as she shook Will’s hand, but it felt like a knowing-smirk kind of smile. “I take it Morrigan has reined in her desire to save the Cosmos?”
“Sarah!” Morrigan chided, causing the others to laugh.
“Yeah, she’s a lot better about it now,” Will replied with a chuckle.
“And don’t worry, I already know Pace and Liam,” Sarah-belle pointed out. “Hey, guys.”
“Good to see you again, Sarah,” said Liam. He then noticed a plastic bag floating around and picked up it to throw it out in a nearby trashcan.
Pace quickly glanced towards the direction she had come from, sensing something. “You’re a little far into the Earth-side of Night Salem today…’
Sarah-belle brushed off her coat as if nervous. “Well, um… there’s a bit of an incident going on over at Central Park…”
Will stepped forward with a serious look in his eye, as a surge of adrenaline gave him a pretty good idea on who it was. “Mind telling us? Because I got a pretty good feeling…”
Sarah-belle was surprised by the readiness and desire to do something about the situation, which to her said Morrigan was still the same old Morrigan she knew all those years ago. “Well, those dirtbags, Laurence and Kenneth, are attempting some kind publicity stunt… thing... I don’t know, they’re saying stupid shit down at central park, and nobody’s taking it lying down.”
“Oh jeez,” Pace complained, then noticed Will visibly getting angry. “Uh oh–rage at 12 o’clock…”
“DAMN IT ALL!” Will said as he tensed up, clenched his fists, and let out an explosive burst of deep red and orange smoke from his neck that nearly knocked his head off.
“Easy, Boyo,” Morrigan tried to say to calm him. “Let’s just head back to the hotel and–”
“EVERYONE WILL BE LUCKY THE TRIAL DOESN’T END RIGHT HERE AND NOW,” he growled as he began storming off towards Central Park
“BOYO!” Morrigan called out as she followed him.
“Will, what about what Abraham said!?” Liam protested.
“Ha, I don’t think he’s listening,” Pace pointed out as he indicated for Sarah-belle and Liam to follow the two. “Besides, he’ll need witnesses for Laurence making an ass of himself…”
Liam groaned as the city began to warp around them as Will led the way to Central Park. “Argh, that’s not making me worry any less, Pace!”
Outside the forest of Central Park things were certainly chaotic and noisy, as two, vile men were attempting to speak to a crowd that were booing and shouting at them to go away. To say it was more like they were arguing with the crowd that had gathered was more accurate, and only their corrupt fortitude could openly ignore the scathing mockery they were rightfully receiving. One of them was an out of shape, balding man with a crooked nose, gray hair, and scratched glasses. His disposition was immediately one of an authoritarian who claimed he cared only as lip service. It also looked like he could have had a heart attack from high blood pressure at any moment, but the public would never be that lucky. And the group of lawyers he was flanked by certainly were not helping his image, shifty and unscrupulous, like they embodied the ‘social cohesion’ narrative of the justice system.
The other man was of a tall, unnaturally fit build with combed, grayish-blonde hair and the predisposition for the fakest smile imaginable–one that screamed he was ruining everything while willingly ignoring all of the backlash in service of his terrible agenda. He was running damage control for his cohort, which was something he prided himself for… ignoring the fact that he was not actually good at it. And then Will and the group came into view, with some of the lawyers panicking, trying to get the attention of their client. Will was hurrying down the sidewalk with rage in his expression with a plume of dark gray smoke trailing behind him, like death itself was going to debate someone whose time was coming and kept trying to argue against their mortality in the most entitled way possible. Will spotted Laurence Duckenfield and Kenneth Stainthorpe immediately, zeroing in on his targets with inevitably weighing down upon all of them.
“LAURENCE DUCKENFIELD, YOU RAT BASTARD!” Will roared with rage that felt like he was about to start laying into his enemy.
“ARGH, Mr. Ford–come to sabotage your end of the trial?” Laurence croaked in an aged voice that was grating like nails on a chalkboard as he marched towards the man. “Very unsportsman of you, but as to be expected from an alt-right–”
“ALT-RIGHT!?!” Will barked back as he made Laurence stumble backwards with a burst of his aura, manifesting as smoke that quickly dissipated. “OKAY, SO WE WENT FROM ESPIONAGE TO OUTRIGHT SLANDER, IS THAT IT!?!”
“HEY, BACK OFF, JACK,” One of the lawyers said as they tried to wrestle Will back, only for Pace to intervene.
“WHOA, BUDDY,” Pace said as he shoved the lawyer into the arms of the other, maintaining his unwavering confidence throughout. “Let’s not get handsy here, given that… Christ, how many potential witnesses are here? 20? 30?” This made some of the crowd chuckle.
A strong-looking man with brown hair and a short beard walked up and thrust his finger in Laurence’s face and said “Hilarious you’re trying to sling mud given your track record, horse teeth–say whatever you want, but that doesn’t change the fact that Mr. Ford is a true American hero! And I’ve been doing some digging on old Laurence here–he is in direct violation of The Espionage Act of 1917!”
“THANK YOU, SIR,” Will proudly agreed. “AND FURTHERMORE–”
“It is prudent to point out that American laws do not apply to non-American individuals,” Kenneth tried to deflect. His voice was a tenor with an expected British accent, but something about it sounded like it had been corrupted by some kind of evil magic.
“THAT’S NOT HOW THAT WORKS,” the brown-haired man fired back . “You’re on American soil, you braindead limey!”
Kenneth kept going, despite his pension for confrontation and smearing his enemies flaring up. “And it stands to reason that Mr. Ford is subject to British laws for interacting with and inconveniencing Sir Duckenfield, given that all countries must obey the law–”
“OH YEAH RIGHT,” a younger man in the crowd shouted. “WHO WON THE REVOLUTIONARY WAR, BITCH!?” This elicited a round of fierce cheers in support of the refutation
It was easy to tell Will was ready to start being a smartass from the gesture he was going into it. “Furthermore, I don’t talk to anti-free speech authoritarians unless they present their ID to me,” he stated as he crossed his arms and turned away.
“What?!” Kenneth exclaimed in an offended tone.
“Nope, don’t talk to me unless you present your ID–I need to make sure you’re not a child.”
“NOW WHY WOULD I DO THAT?” Kenneth scolded.
“Well gee, don’t you support age verification and digital ID?” Morrigan mocked with a teasing tone. “Surely you got nothing to hide, aye, MP?” This resulted in Kenneth stuttering gibberish as the crowd pointed and laughed, as he could not just pedal the lip service to placate the masses given the rising anger towards him (and even then it would not work).
Laurence, stewing in his self-entitled, unjustified rage, looked like he was about to burst a vein. “YOUR PATHETIC EXCUSE FOR A COUNTRY SHOULD HAVE NEVER EXISTED IN THE FIRST PLACE. You dare speak out against the government!? TRAITORS FROM THE DAY ONE! Your miserable ‘constitution’ is just a piece of paper, AND IF I HAVE MY WAY, I’LL MAKE SURE YOU HOLD YOUR TONGUE AND DO WHAT I SAY FOR THE REST OF YOUR DAYS!”
“OVER MY DEAD BODY, YOU AUTHORITARIAN PIECE OF SHIT!!!” Will screamed at the top of his lungs as he started shoving Laurence, with him shoving back. He did not care how it made him look, Will had officially had enough of Laurence and Kenneth’s nonsense.
And as the tension mounted like it was about to erupt forth into a massive brawl, with people shouting and roaring that Laurence needed to go, drowning out the desperate attempts of the screaming lawyers to get their client out of there–a sudden crack of thunder scared everyone into silence, with two men walking up to the quelled commotion. “Sir Kenneth Stainthorpe in the flesh–well I'll be damned!” Scotty announced with a mocking glee whose nuance was lost upon those who had their adrenaline settling, stealing the spotlight from the troublemakers.
Next:
ULTRAMagic Alternate © 2022 William Ford II (ChaoticTempleKnight)
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