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Azrael Erebus · (02-10-2021)

"Give me one good reason... just one fuckin' good reason, why I shouldn't pull this trigger?"

Well, it's happening, every member of the Elite is gathered at the Citadel. All stationed at a round, metal, futuristic looking table. With a hole cut in the center, where what appears to be a light projection, display resides. Showcasing an image of Earth as it appears from space. All around them on the walls, there are various other flat screens. Several consoles and stations are situated, beneath certain portions of the monitors, as well. Each obviously controlling the functions of a select group of screens.

This room is the conference area or central hive of the Citadel. Where plans are made and missions are set. The place for discussions and preparation for future events. This is where the Elite meet before patrolling the city and assignments are given to the team by the leader. Which used to be Azrael Erebus, after Lila willingly surrendered the reigns to him, upon his return in 2018. Ever since he lost his powers, the role was placed onto Griffin MacAlister, otherwise known as the man pointing a Colt 45, directly at Maxwell Maximus' cranium.

Not too long ago, Maxwell Maximus met with Azrael Erebus and revealed that he wasn't too fond of working with Zelena - The Darkstar Destroyer: warrior, galaxy conqueror, scourge of the universe and one fucking scorned, power hungry, bitch. He explained that he knew she had her sights set on destroying Earth and that he believed, the only being that was truly, capable of stopping her was Azrael. Although, in order to accomplish that feat, Azrael would need his powers back. Maxwell, promised that he formulated a way for that to happen and was confident, it could be accomplished or so it appeared.

The only catch was that he wanted to present this idea to the team and meet with them, so Azrael made that happen. He contacted every member of the Elite and asked them to come to the Citadel, to discuss an urgent matter and they complied without a question edgewise. Why would they not? This was Azrael Erebus, asking for this favor, after all. So they abided by his request and everyone came to the Citadel. To find Maxwell Maximus there. With zero hesitation and rage, smoldering in his eyes, Griffin pulled his gun and pointed it straight at the center of Maxwell's skull.

Which is where this scene opens as you gaze on in horror. An emotion you have been plagued with quite often these days. It seems like you're always horrified by something and not having the power to do anything about it, only makes matters worse. All you can do is watch and possibly witness Maxwell's brains, splatter against the nearest wall. Sure, he was an evil genius, the mastermind responsible for countless, vile acts and nefarious, dastardly schemes but that didn't mean you want to observe his brains being blown out of his head. Mostly because you weren't sick in the mind and that sort of sight, isn't something you would relish in seeing. Unfortunately, being the silent, ineffective, invisible watcher and recorder of events, you have no choice in the matter.

You're stuck.

So all you can do is look on in terror and pray. Which is precisely what you do as you stare at Griffin, pull back the hammer of his gun.

"What's the matter Maxwell? Cat got your tongue? You were awfully fucking chatty the last time I seen ya. Seems kinda odd that you're so damn quiet now. Especially since I asked you a fuckin' question. I gotta real burnin' desire for the satisfaction of an answer too. But y'know what? Maybe that's it. There isn't a good reason, for me to stop myself from blowing your brains out, is that it? Tell me Max, is your silence an admission to that fact?"

"So dramatic. My god Griffin, what happened to you?"

Maxwell chuckles, completely unfazed.

"Shut up, Maxwell. You're seriously not helping your situation here."

Azrael states with a sigh.

"Griffin, put down the gun. You're not going to shoot Maxwell in the head."

"I'm not. Really? Huh? That's funny. Sort of feels like that's exactly what I'm going to do, spaceman. Unless, you got a few powers, left over that I don't know about and you're somehow reading a portion of my mind, that even I don't have access to and you're telling me, I got multi-personalities or some shit. Otherwise, I am pretty damn certain, this man's about to die."

"This isn't you. You're not a killer."

"I'm not? Wow. I'll be damned. So all the previous killing, I did... was nothing more than a hallucination."

"That was the old you. Back when you were following orders, nothing more than a..."

"A what? C'mon... Azzy, say it."

"A living weapon."

"Haha! I'm still a living weapon, that hasn't changed and guess, who initially made that happen? You know the answer. Who took it upon himself, to prey on the fear of a guy going to jail, for a murder he didn't commit and manipulate the situation? All so he could have a god damn, slave to do his dirty work and there was no other option, besides it. Nope. Not for me. I had no other choice. I was trapped. Do you think I wanted to be an executioner? Fuck no! I thought you understood that Azrael, cause you sure as shit made it seem that way and now, what? Because I don't mention the struggle it is to be fucking normal and act like I wasn't transformed into something, that's only purpose is following orders and bringing forth death and destruction... you surmise, I must be all better? Ya gotta be shittin' me?! Every day, I have to make a conscious effort and some days, are worse than others. Sometimes, I seriously don't know if I can do it, but do I complain... no! Doesn't mean it don't mess with me and you, have the audacity to bring the asshole responsible for it all, here and I'm supposed to be cool with that? Nah. No ways."

"Oh my god, cry me a river, I didn't force you to sign the paperwork or agree to anything. You did it, all on your own and hey, I lived up to my end of the deal, you didn't wind up going to prison and that was due to me. I gave you, your freedom. Essentially. You were able to have free roam and do as you pleased, all you had to do was handle a few tasks for me, whenever I required it. And it's not like you got nothing out of it, you were paid for your time and efforts. Quite a lot, actually. Plus, you gained skills and abilities that you wouldn't have now, had I not intervened and altered your genetics. Also I released you, when it was asked of me and left you alone."

"You mean, when I got the tracking chip and explosive trigger outta my skull and then Azrael, threatened you and ordered for it to happen. Told you to stay away or else. Yeah, I remember that, real well."

"Potato... patato. It still happened and look at all the good, you're doing now. Do you honestly think, you'd be where you are now, if I hadn't done anything. If I wasn't a factor in your life at all. Do you seriously think, your life would be the way it is currently? No, Griffin. You can't be that stupid... or naive. You have to know it wouldn't because if you sincerely believe that it would be... you're only lying to yourself."

Laughs.

"Really... you should be thanking me, for all I did for you."

"Once again Maxwell, you are not helping. Stop talking."

"Nah. He did help things. He made an easy decision, even easier. You want me to thank you, Maxwell? Alright. Thanx Max! Thanx so fuckin' much! Now, let me showcase my appreciation, by doing the world a solid and ending your worthless life. I mean, I have taken on the role of helping humanity and humanity, would be a lot better off... without you being a part of it."

You scream... a silent scream as Griffin, pulls the trigger. The bullet escapes the chamber and exits the gun. Yet it never pierces Maxwell's skull or enters his brain. In that split second, Maxwell flies to the side and slams against the wall. The bullet, speeds through the empty air, that exists in front of Griffin and finds its way into nothing but a screen, on the wall. Where it cracks the screen and causes a sizzle of electricity, before the monitor goes black. Not too far off, Donovan stands, with his hand raised. However, it does not end there, seconds later, the Colt 45 rips from Griffin's grasp and Decker Hollis, catches it. His powers of magnetism to blame. Then Griffin feels a tap on his shoulder and turns to see, Vincenzo Armand there. He slowly removes his sunglasses, meets Griffin's gaze and says very calmly...

"Sleep."

Griffin drops like a sack of so many potatoes, immediately unconscious, when he hits the floor. Vincenzo replaces his sunglasses and gives a slight shrug, along with a soft laugh as he places his focus on an extremely, upset Lila. That rushes over to Griffin.

"Relax. He'll be fine. Might wake up with a headache but that's about it. Out of the things I could have made him do, taking a nap seemed like the best option."

By this point, Maxwell has risen to his feet, dusted himself off and now, stands nearby.

"Fascinating."

This draws Vincenzo's attention to Max. His demeanor cool and reserved and expression, rather stoic.

"Maxwell Maximus finds me fascinating, my life is now complete."

"You mistake me. While you do seem extraordinary, as far as what you did there... I assume your abilities are the power of suggestion, some form of mind manipulation. You told Griffin to sleep and he totally shut down. That's an amazing ability, I must admit. Awe worthy, truly. However, I was referring to the fact that I'm standing in the presence of Vincenzo '12 Gauge' Armand. In truth, after you turned your back on Tony Verducci and disappeared, I naturally assumed you were assassinated. Even if you were in witness protection, I figured Tony would have hunted you to the end of the Earth and you'd be swimming with the fishes, by now. Look at you though, alive and well, in league with super heroes. Doing what you must to survive and thrive. Good for you. You were perpetually a survivor and I always respected your style and effectiveness, very professional and immensely, proficient from what I remember. Notably with the use of a shotgun. Tell me, I heard a rumor and I always wanted to verify if it was true or not, do you really keep a shotgun, stored in your hollowed out wooden leg? That's why they call you '12 Gauge', right?"

"Would you like to find out?"

Pause.

"You know, you seem to have a whole lot of knowledge about me, that offends me, I don't like it when people wield a lot of information about me and know my business. I like it even less, when they run their mouths about it. Meaning, it would be in your best interest, if you didn't do that. Capisce?"

"My bad, I meant no disrespect. If anything, I was merely trying to say that I am genuinely, a fan but I hear you and never will I utter, another word about you."

"Good. Keep it that way."

Turning away from Vincenzo, Maxwell proceeds over to Azrael. Who is now chatting to Donovan.

"Well, it was rather a rough landing but thanks for the save, Donovan. Good looking out."

"I didn't do it for you. I did it for the information you have. I assumed that's why my father, brought you here, correct? If he thinks it's worth bringing us all together and allowing you the privilege of entering the Citadel, thus shattering it's secrecy and putting everyone at risk. You've got to have something tremendous to share. World series, baseball over the wall, game changing shit. Because I don't believe Azrael, would jeopardize us that way and gamble everything, we've accomplished and done. Throw it all away and destroy what we have here. If you didn't possess vital, life transforming information. So no... I did nothing for you, Maxwell. I took a chance on my father, placed my belief in him and chose to do what I needed to do in order to listen to you and hear what you have to share. You are worth nothing more, than what I can gain, from hearing you speak."

"Fair enough. I can appreciate a man that speaks the truth and you're right, I do wish to share some... game changing, information. I even have knowledge that specifically, caters to you, Donovan. I think I'll start with that because this factors in with everything else and may make you a tad more mindful, when we start the process of planning and preparation."

"Planning and preparation, for what???"

"Patience, that will be revealed in due time. First, I'd like to address this aspect and then we can move onward, to the next chapter."

"Fine. What is this dire information that you need to reveal to me?"

"Do you remember when Abigail and Arkin, were abducted by Zelena?"

"Yes."

"When you did everything in your power to rescue them but in the end, it simply wasn't enough because your wife was still decapitated, directly in front of you and your, at the time... three year old son?"

Donovan grits his teeth.

"Yes."

"Such a shame, to die in that manner and for you to witness it. With Arkin, right there, watching it occur as well. That's the kind of thing that would traumatize a child. Hmmm... no wonder, he decided to follow in your footsteps and join the XWF. Violence is a part of him now, as much as your past, made it a part of you."

"You do know if I kill you, I don't need a weapon, right?"

"Apologies. I was merely sharing my thoughts but I can see, that's angering you... greatly, so I'll stop and get to the point."

"That would be in your best interest cause you're wearing on my last nerve and contrary to preventing your death, no more than a matter of mere minutes ago, I want to end your life just as much as Griffin. So please, continue but choose your words, very carefully."

"I think I can manage that function."

Pause.

"Now, I bring up the beautiful and kind, Abigail Monroe... shame she never took your surname, by the way. Anyway, I bring her up because did you know, she had a secret on the day she perished."

"No."

"Ah... well, I suppose you wouldn't, since you didn't get a chance to talk before she was abducted. She had a secret though. She was pregnant and after she was taken to the morgue, Zelena went straight there and extracted the child. Zelena has been raising the child, ever since then. Brilliant girl. Looks just like you."

"You're lying."

"Oh no, I'm not. I can assure you of that cause I've encountered the girl, on more than one occasion. Her name is Verity and she hasn't even the slightest inkling, you're her father."

"Last Man Standing! Azrael Erebus vs Claude 'The Murder Horse' Savage. Hey, at least he's self aware, that's a strange nickname. If it were a low budget horror film, it would make sense. The Murder Horse. It's a horse that commits murder. Self explanatory. He's a man though and even if he's a big dude, from Maryland and there's a lot of horses around and he worked with horses, that doesn't make the nickname any less confusing."

"For instance, my close friend - bRiaN sTorM, lives on a farm and there are horses on that farm, he even rides a Clydesdale to the ring, when he wrestles. The horse and him travel together, to shows and that didn't suddenly influence his name. Meanwhile, Claude got the title from his trainer, who wanted him to be a violent jockey cause I gather his trainer was aware of his history with horses. Why not the 'Evil Equestrian' then? 'Homicidal Horseman'? 'Raging Rider'? 'Murder Horse' sounds like he either turns into a horse or he's part centaur and happens to kill people."

"That isn't the case and his reasoning for keeping the name is the worst. Basically he's too lazy to drop it or get a new one. So if his trainer called him 'Steaming Sewage' or 'The Towering Turd' or 'Puddin' Pants' he'd keep it? Correct? That's fucking stupid."

"There's nothing forcing you, to stay stuck in a rut, Claude. I have adapted to situations, all my life. I had to learn to alter myself, in order to survive. I used to be one of the most powerful beings in the universe and I lost it all, if I went by your rules I guess I would have had to kill myself. Commit suicide, right then and there cause there was no way, I could continue on, the same as always and act like nothing changed, I had to acclimate and get used to existing as I did before I had powers."

"Yowza! if I carried myself like you, I probably would have never left Ozuul. Life is about experiences, Claude and you'll never experience anything, if you live with your head in the sand, like an ostrich. By the sanctioned gods, you need to be the change, in order to get things done and thrive, when you refuse to let stuff go, all you'll do is sink and eventually drown."

"You are getting into the ring with a warrior. A man that traveled across the stars. To partake in a fight, something that requires modification and adjustment, for that is what wrestling is all about but even more so now, if you hope to keep your adversary down in a 'Last Man Standing' bout. If you don't readjust and roll with the punches, you'll be the one that's down for the count. Dominated and destroyed. Then again, that's you before you even enter the squared circle, isn't it? Pity. Your pathetic outlook, will ultimately end your life, regardless if you remain breathing or not. You are as good as dead. Till next time, Claude."

Threaded Mode \| Linear Mode Soft Deadline It's either all coming together... or falling apart
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