Post by Caleb Lockwood on May 28, 2018 4:57:31 GMT
We open on Caleb Lockwood sitting in what appears to be an old bank vault, the Extreme Championship over his shoulder. He sits on a small footstool, twirling a lighter between his fingers. When Caleb speaks, his voice is thick with anger and disdain. "Some have asked me why I was so upset by Ethan King's actions last week. Let me make one thing perfectly clear: the Pack understand the concept of violence as a tool. We understand what it means to achieve goals by harming others. But what you did, Ethan? What you did was simply an exercise in power for power's sake. James Michael Nash did nothing to you to warrant that attack. All you gained from it was the satisfaction of allegedly proving your superiority. But then, you don't seem to understand the idea of proportionate response."
He cracks his knuckles, snarling. "You're a parasite, Ethan. You were born into money, and rather than use your gift to actually make a difference, you've used it as a weapon to dominate and subjugate. Your very existence is a blight, Ethan, and it's one that I aim to scour from not just this company but the face of the Earth. After all, an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure, which means I have about 2700 pounds of cure coming for your ass."
Caleb looks up, eyes alight with fury. "Eat the rich. It's not just a catchphrase for me, Ethan, it's a way of life. I have made my living gladly devouring those who would subdue me. You're not the first arrogant son of a bitch to walk into a place like this and assume he can have his way with me. Nighthawk, Steve Awesome, both of those men will tell you that I'm not to be taken lightly, and they're about as far from each other as is physically possible. If you want to waltz into the jaws of hell with a smile on your face, so be it. I'm happy to be your executioner."
He smiles, running his thumb over the face of the belt. "I've heard stories about you, Ethan. Whisperings from old acquaintances, the echoes of a different life. I've heard you're more than just a pretty face. Tell me, Ethan, have you ever fought a truly desperate man? Have you ever fought a man who's defending his last scrap of anything and would do anything to hold onto it? I know you've fought some vicious battles, but I don't think you've ever actually had to look a man like me in the eye as you tried to take what was his from him."
Caleb shakes his head, standing up and kicking the stool over with a casual flick of his foot backward. "No, you've destroyed lives for years with a flick of a pen. One signature from you, and suddenly hundreds, thousands of lives change, all for the sake of your bottom line. I loathe you, Ethan. I loathe everything you stand for, and I can't wait to show you why they call me the Street Savage. This isn't Tokyo, this isn't the boardroom...this is my world now, Ethan, and you're just a guest in it."
He grabs the belt from his shoulder, letting it trail on the ground, and slowly begins to pace forward. The edge of the belt catches on the floor of the vault, kicking up a small shower of sparks as he stalks forward. "You made an alliance with Laura Howlett because you thought it would give your career in this company a boost. You'll quickly learn what happens when one of the Pack matches up with one of Laura Howlett's new pets." He smirks, cracking his neck. "I hope your health insurance is good, Ethan. You're going to need it."
Caleb lifts the belt again, the sparks ceasing as he slings it back over his shoulder. "You and I come from opposite ends of life. You had it all. I had it all taken from me, and I have had to fight for every single scrap that I've ever had in my life. I will scale from my gutter up the monuments to your own ego you've erected, I will kick down the doors that keep you safe, I will rip you from your throne, and I will light your empire ablaze."
He grins, eyes glinting in the low light with a mirror sheen. "This is going to be satisfying, Ethan. Denying you your prize, hurting you, making you bleed...I hope you suffer, Ethan. I hope you suffer in ways that even you have never dreamed of, and I will make you suffer with a smile on my face and a song in my heart. It's feeding time, Ethan...and I'm very, VERY hungry." Caleb grins, holding the Extreme Championship up, and the vault door abruptly swings shut, clicking closed. After a moment, it unlocks again and swings back open, revealing an empty vault. We fade out on the shot of the vault, eerily quiet and still.
Caleb sat up in his bed with a start. He looks over at the doorway, shaking his head slowly. Rowan stood in the doorway, head inclined slightly. Caleb blinked the sleep from his eyes, standing. "Rowan." he nodded to her. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
From beneath the mask, a small chuckle rolled forth. "It is I that owe you, Caleb. I owe you thanks."
Caleb blinks, taken aback for a moment. "For what?"
"For showing the value of the teachings I have given you." Rowan takes a step across the threshold. "For showing the world that not only the damned can benefit from my words."
Caleb chuckles, sitting down on his bed. "I'd hardly call myself exempt from the ranks of the damned. I've done some stuff, we both know that."
Rowan nods again, face impassive. "You're different than the others. Different from Dean, different from Brooklyn, different from Maxine and Warren...your devotion has never been to me as a higher power. You have seen me differently, heeded my words not out of their devotion to creed but your own devotion to an ideal just as powerful."
"Family." Caleb's reply comes almost automatically from his lips, and he rubs the back of his neck. "You took me in. You treated me like family. It's only right."
Rowan nods, sitting in a chair in the corner, crossing one leg over her knee. "You have questions, though. More than any of them. You doubt, you ask why. Yet devoted you remain, in your own way." She tilts her head to the side. "You have a question for me now."
It wasn't a question of its own so much as a statement, and Caleb nods slowly in reply. "The girl. The one you're walking around in. You keep her clamped down tight, much tighter than anyone else. Dean's plus-one lets Dean do most of the driving, and Warren...I don't know about Warren." he leans forward, clasping his hands together. "Why?"
Rowan's response is calm and measured, never breaking gaze or hesitating. "Because the more control I exert, the less she suffers needlessly. I came to her in her time of need, Caleb. She was hurt, she was lost...she needed me in a way she couldn't even begin to express." Rowan pauses, chuckling softly again. "In its own way, it's a mercy. You saw what she was without me. Feral, hurt, lashing out with wild abandon. If her victim hadn't been...what she is, I doubt she would have recovered. In her own way, she's more a monster than I ever have been, a raw pulsating thread of hate and pain and nihilistic rage." Rowan laces her fingers together. "Though they can't admit it, those that would call themselves heroes need me. I'm far better than the alternative."
Caleb pauses, nodding slowly. He takes a deep breath and lets it back out. "Thank you. I...I thought that was the case, but...it's better to know for sure. From your own mouth, your own words." He looks up at Rowan. "I think Dean thought I was fine with you being gone. The truth is, I worried about you. I missed you. You may not be my god, but you saved me. You've earned being family...and we don't abandon our family."
Rowan stands again, Caleb standing to match her. She walks over to him, reaching out and resting a comforting hand on his cheek. To an outsider, the gesture might seem unusual. The corners of Rowan's eyes crinkle, the telltale sign of a smile. "I need men like you, Caleb. Those that are willing to ask why, to question me instead of blindly obeying. Now more than ever, with the storms on the horizon, I will need you to be strong."
Caleb nods, taking a deep breath and smiling. "I will. I promise." He pauses again. "...thank you."
"You're very welcome, Caleb. And thank you." Rowan takes a step back, lowering her hand. "Sleep now. You've got quite the task ahead of you, and so much more to come that none of us can begin to predict."
Caleb nods, flashing a brief smile before turning back to his bed. He glances back, mouth half-open to ask another question, but Rowan's already gone, leaving nothing but empty hallway in her wake. Caleb shakes his head, smiling again, and lays back down on his bed. He stares up at the ceiling, half-smile still on his face as we fade away.
He cracks his knuckles, snarling. "You're a parasite, Ethan. You were born into money, and rather than use your gift to actually make a difference, you've used it as a weapon to dominate and subjugate. Your very existence is a blight, Ethan, and it's one that I aim to scour from not just this company but the face of the Earth. After all, an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure, which means I have about 2700 pounds of cure coming for your ass."
Caleb looks up, eyes alight with fury. "Eat the rich. It's not just a catchphrase for me, Ethan, it's a way of life. I have made my living gladly devouring those who would subdue me. You're not the first arrogant son of a bitch to walk into a place like this and assume he can have his way with me. Nighthawk, Steve Awesome, both of those men will tell you that I'm not to be taken lightly, and they're about as far from each other as is physically possible. If you want to waltz into the jaws of hell with a smile on your face, so be it. I'm happy to be your executioner."
He smiles, running his thumb over the face of the belt. "I've heard stories about you, Ethan. Whisperings from old acquaintances, the echoes of a different life. I've heard you're more than just a pretty face. Tell me, Ethan, have you ever fought a truly desperate man? Have you ever fought a man who's defending his last scrap of anything and would do anything to hold onto it? I know you've fought some vicious battles, but I don't think you've ever actually had to look a man like me in the eye as you tried to take what was his from him."
Caleb shakes his head, standing up and kicking the stool over with a casual flick of his foot backward. "No, you've destroyed lives for years with a flick of a pen. One signature from you, and suddenly hundreds, thousands of lives change, all for the sake of your bottom line. I loathe you, Ethan. I loathe everything you stand for, and I can't wait to show you why they call me the Street Savage. This isn't Tokyo, this isn't the boardroom...this is my world now, Ethan, and you're just a guest in it."
He grabs the belt from his shoulder, letting it trail on the ground, and slowly begins to pace forward. The edge of the belt catches on the floor of the vault, kicking up a small shower of sparks as he stalks forward. "You made an alliance with Laura Howlett because you thought it would give your career in this company a boost. You'll quickly learn what happens when one of the Pack matches up with one of Laura Howlett's new pets." He smirks, cracking his neck. "I hope your health insurance is good, Ethan. You're going to need it."
Caleb lifts the belt again, the sparks ceasing as he slings it back over his shoulder. "You and I come from opposite ends of life. You had it all. I had it all taken from me, and I have had to fight for every single scrap that I've ever had in my life. I will scale from my gutter up the monuments to your own ego you've erected, I will kick down the doors that keep you safe, I will rip you from your throne, and I will light your empire ablaze."
He grins, eyes glinting in the low light with a mirror sheen. "This is going to be satisfying, Ethan. Denying you your prize, hurting you, making you bleed...I hope you suffer, Ethan. I hope you suffer in ways that even you have never dreamed of, and I will make you suffer with a smile on my face and a song in my heart. It's feeding time, Ethan...and I'm very, VERY hungry." Caleb grins, holding the Extreme Championship up, and the vault door abruptly swings shut, clicking closed. After a moment, it unlocks again and swings back open, revealing an empty vault. We fade out on the shot of the vault, eerily quiet and still.
Caleb sat up in his bed with a start. He looks over at the doorway, shaking his head slowly. Rowan stood in the doorway, head inclined slightly. Caleb blinked the sleep from his eyes, standing. "Rowan." he nodded to her. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
From beneath the mask, a small chuckle rolled forth. "It is I that owe you, Caleb. I owe you thanks."
Caleb blinks, taken aback for a moment. "For what?"
"For showing the value of the teachings I have given you." Rowan takes a step across the threshold. "For showing the world that not only the damned can benefit from my words."
Caleb chuckles, sitting down on his bed. "I'd hardly call myself exempt from the ranks of the damned. I've done some stuff, we both know that."
Rowan nods again, face impassive. "You're different than the others. Different from Dean, different from Brooklyn, different from Maxine and Warren...your devotion has never been to me as a higher power. You have seen me differently, heeded my words not out of their devotion to creed but your own devotion to an ideal just as powerful."
"Family." Caleb's reply comes almost automatically from his lips, and he rubs the back of his neck. "You took me in. You treated me like family. It's only right."
Rowan nods, sitting in a chair in the corner, crossing one leg over her knee. "You have questions, though. More than any of them. You doubt, you ask why. Yet devoted you remain, in your own way." She tilts her head to the side. "You have a question for me now."
It wasn't a question of its own so much as a statement, and Caleb nods slowly in reply. "The girl. The one you're walking around in. You keep her clamped down tight, much tighter than anyone else. Dean's plus-one lets Dean do most of the driving, and Warren...I don't know about Warren." he leans forward, clasping his hands together. "Why?"
Rowan's response is calm and measured, never breaking gaze or hesitating. "Because the more control I exert, the less she suffers needlessly. I came to her in her time of need, Caleb. She was hurt, she was lost...she needed me in a way she couldn't even begin to express." Rowan pauses, chuckling softly again. "In its own way, it's a mercy. You saw what she was without me. Feral, hurt, lashing out with wild abandon. If her victim hadn't been...what she is, I doubt she would have recovered. In her own way, she's more a monster than I ever have been, a raw pulsating thread of hate and pain and nihilistic rage." Rowan laces her fingers together. "Though they can't admit it, those that would call themselves heroes need me. I'm far better than the alternative."
Caleb pauses, nodding slowly. He takes a deep breath and lets it back out. "Thank you. I...I thought that was the case, but...it's better to know for sure. From your own mouth, your own words." He looks up at Rowan. "I think Dean thought I was fine with you being gone. The truth is, I worried about you. I missed you. You may not be my god, but you saved me. You've earned being family...and we don't abandon our family."
Rowan stands again, Caleb standing to match her. She walks over to him, reaching out and resting a comforting hand on his cheek. To an outsider, the gesture might seem unusual. The corners of Rowan's eyes crinkle, the telltale sign of a smile. "I need men like you, Caleb. Those that are willing to ask why, to question me instead of blindly obeying. Now more than ever, with the storms on the horizon, I will need you to be strong."
Caleb nods, taking a deep breath and smiling. "I will. I promise." He pauses again. "...thank you."
"You're very welcome, Caleb. And thank you." Rowan takes a step back, lowering her hand. "Sleep now. You've got quite the task ahead of you, and so much more to come that none of us can begin to predict."
Caleb nods, flashing a brief smile before turning back to his bed. He glances back, mouth half-open to ask another question, but Rowan's already gone, leaving nothing but empty hallway in her wake. Caleb shakes his head, smiling again, and lays back down on his bed. He stares up at the ceiling, half-smile still on his face as we fade away.
Well howdy there pardner.