Post by Alexander Schwarz on Dec 13, 2011 1:51:22 GMT -5
PHILADELPHIA FREEDOM SHINE ON ME
SHINE A LIGHT WON’T YOU SHINE A LIGHT.
Alexander James Schwarz | Twenty-Five | Werewolf | Resistor | Michael Fassbender[/center][/size]
PLEASE STATE YOUR NAME AND AGE FOR THE RECORD.
Schwarz, Alexander. Charmed, I’m sure. As that file you hold in your hands no doubt has previously informed you--had you bothered to read it--I am twenty-five years of age.
. . .
Is this coffee for me? That’s…really quite thoughtful of you. I had no idea there would be refreshments at this little interrogation. Why, it’s practically a date! Unfortunately, I brought my own ‘adult’ beverage. And I refuse to share, so I hope you like your coffee black…and preferably not poisoned.
WHAT BRINGS YOU TO PHILADELPHIA? HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN HERE? DO YOU LIKE IT?
I’m new to Philadelphia. A transplant, I believe you call the people like me? ‘People like me’, feh, as if most of the sorry sons and daughters of Adam running around this town are ‘like me’. Still, you understand my meaning despite the obvious technicalities, yes?
Got a good knock on the head my first day here courtesy of your System. But I’m sure that’s in the file. You lot decided to give me a little introduction to the School of Hard Knocks you’ve got set up here, caging your weres in that prison as if we weren’t already considered second-class citizens. Why don’t you just hand out little lapel pins shaped like full moons made of silver and we’ll wear them on the outside of our clothing so that all the ‘normal people’ can scream and point fingers and hide their children when they see us coming? That would be better, I think. At least then the citizens would know to get gun licenses and silver bullets to prepare themselves. But you know all about my little ‘anarchist’s perspective’, don’t you? Fantastic! I approve.
The rest of it has been…entertaining, I suppose. This city is different than I am used to. Younger-yet-older and terribly crowded at times. Noisy, even. And to be locked away to fully become what I am is to laugh at the Mother’s gift. To laugh at the Mother’s gift is to be cursed to sadness. I am sure that you do not understand but I spent many years of my life rebelling against these transformations. It was the wrong thing to do but it took many years and a good friend to learn that lesson and it will last longer than these silly injuries your little redneck goonsquad inflicted.
SO YOU HAD A GOOD EXPERIENCE HERE?
Have I? I haven’t been here long, to be sure. Only a cycle or two. But the System has its perks. You gave me the cash I asked for and I bought something from a stranger just for me. You can trace it, you can follow it, but it is still mine. If you bug my van you won’t hear anything I wouldn’t be perfectly willing to tell you in person. Go ahead. Though I want nothing to do with your little organization, I find it hardly prudent to ignore the gifts you can give me while I’m still in your good graces. That would just be stupid and ignorant—a far cry from ‘hypocritical’.
MANY PEOPLE SAY THEY FEAR THE CITY. WHAT ARE YOU AFRAID OF?
What am I scared of? What am I—are you really that stupid?! I’m terrified of killing someone again. There is so much anger within me that some days I’m not sure I would need the excuse of my lycan form to commit such an act. The System here is wrong. It was wrong at Home and it is wrong here. Locking us up will not change who we are, what we are. Samuel was right! It’s possible for us to live and to manage ourselves.
. . .
Since I’m running my mouth already, I might as well divulge in full, hmm? That’s what you want after all. My fears are simple. Like all ‘sane’ and ‘responsible’ werebeasts, I am terrified of killing or infecting another. I am afraid of personal attachments with ‘normal’ people. I know firsthand how badly that can end. Never again. The Mother will call, the Beast will answer, but the Man can still decide. You think it is foolish, don’t you? A boy’s dream. In a way, you are correct. This ‘dream’ is not mine but I pursue it to fulfill a debt. A debt I owe.
Also, I prefer knives to guns. Large ones. Most of my life, guns have been the weapons of cowards or thieves. The same is true for your stupid Eastern State Penitentiary and its worthless guards. They reek of fear. Fear and neutralization. Trigger-happy fools that they are.
WHAT ABOUT YOUR DREAMS? WHAT ARE YOUR GOALS?
My dream is to live without little men like you gawking over my shoulder criticizing my every breath. I don’t even need to lift a finger and you judge me already for breathing. Perhaps if I exhaled too strongly in your face some tainted moisture from my lungs would pass to you thus extending my curse to another poor unfortunate victim, right? Of course, right. I see it in your eyes—Fear, Hatred—but what do you see in mine, hmm?
I want a world where my brothers and sisters can live as we must. Wild and Free. We can exist in your cities, obey your laws, but when the Mother calls…we as her dutiful children have no choice but to obey—willing or no. My dream is that all weres may be free from the burden of shame and the compulsion to hide. There are more lepers in your colony then the weres alone, yes? Do you shun the man with AIDS because he could spit on you when he talks and you may catch his sickness? Do you tell your coughing child with the flu to go read his own bedtime story because you don’t want to receive his germs? To have what he has? It is not so different with my people.
We do not have to fight. We do not have to go against the Men we once were. But we must be free. Free…if only to police ourselves. Never again will I have a Man with a gun stand above me as if he controls my fate. As if I am some insignificant speck tainting his existence. I am the master of my own…
WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT THE EXISTENCE OF FAIRY TALE CREATURES—WEREWOLVES, GHOSTS, DRAGONS, PSYCHICS—THINGS LIKE THAT?
Fairy-tale creature, am I? Then where-oh-where might my sweet princessa be, eh? Are you hiding her, little Man? Do you guard her so jealously as you guard the leashes of the weres? So savagely as you clip the wings of the dragons and bind them to the Earth, never again to own the sky as is their right?! And what of the ghosts? What have you promised those poor forgotten souls that they tarry here in this miserable excuse of a ‘civilized’ place? As for the psychics…cowards that they are, they are not so different from ourselves. Perhaps they see this, but you reign them in with honeyed words and crystalline lies, yes? I would expect this from your ‘System’. In short, I believe in the existence of my brothers and sisters in ‘your world’, yes. Cherish your so-called peace. It will not last.
HOW WOULD YOU DESCRIBE YOURSELF?
I am courageous, fearless, bold, brazen, brash, irresponsible, reckless, uncaring, cruel, coarse, direct, blunt, brutal, determined…Take your pick. I don’t care for the petty ‘opinions’ of those too stupid to form their own impressions based on a worthwhile acquaintance of a meaningful span of time.
I am a man of very little patience. ‘Kindness’ and ‘Gentleness’ do not come easily to me. I care for a very small number of things in this world. My good name, my peace of mind, my pride, and my pack are really all that matter to me. Your opinion does not matter.
I am not interested in being some ‘ambassador of my species’. I am not some plaything or some trophy to wave around and gloat over. I have no interest in the superficial nonsense of your bustling ever-crowded world.
I will be the Me that I have been and I will continue to conduct myself as I have in the past. That should be more than satisfactory for any man.
THAT’S ABOUT EVERYTHING. IF YOU’LL JUST PLEASE FILL OUT THIS SHEET, WE’LL BE ON OUR WAY.
For the sake of completion…I became a werewolf when I was four. My memory of what occurred to cause my transformation is…fuzzy at best. And unpleasant. No doubt you wonder about my collar. It’s leather, black, a gift from a friend. The studs are silver for…obvious reasons, I’d imagine.
NAME
Beth again.
IF YOU CHOOSE YOU CAN LIVE YOUR LIFE ALONE
SOME PEOPLE CHOOSE THE CITY.
SHINE A LIGHT WON’T YOU SHINE A LIGHT.
THE LESS I SAY THE MORE MY WORK GETS DONE
Alexander James Schwarz | Twenty-Five | Werewolf | Resistor | Michael Fassbender[/center][/size]
you enter a dimly lit room where a shadowed figure sits across from you with a thick file in hand. The figure’s face is indistinguishable. a hot cup of coffee made just the way you like is waiting on the table. the figure beckons for you to sit. you do. finally the figure across from you speaks.
PLEASE STATE YOUR NAME AND AGE FOR THE RECORD.
Schwarz, Alexander. Charmed, I’m sure. As that file you hold in your hands no doubt has previously informed you--had you bothered to read it--I am twenty-five years of age.
. . .
Is this coffee for me? That’s…really quite thoughtful of you. I had no idea there would be refreshments at this little interrogation. Why, it’s practically a date! Unfortunately, I brought my own ‘adult’ beverage. And I refuse to share, so I hope you like your coffee black…and preferably not poisoned.
WHAT BRINGS YOU TO PHILADELPHIA? HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN HERE? DO YOU LIKE IT?
I’m new to Philadelphia. A transplant, I believe you call the people like me? ‘People like me’, feh, as if most of the sorry sons and daughters of Adam running around this town are ‘like me’. Still, you understand my meaning despite the obvious technicalities, yes?
Got a good knock on the head my first day here courtesy of your System. But I’m sure that’s in the file. You lot decided to give me a little introduction to the School of Hard Knocks you’ve got set up here, caging your weres in that prison as if we weren’t already considered second-class citizens. Why don’t you just hand out little lapel pins shaped like full moons made of silver and we’ll wear them on the outside of our clothing so that all the ‘normal people’ can scream and point fingers and hide their children when they see us coming? That would be better, I think. At least then the citizens would know to get gun licenses and silver bullets to prepare themselves. But you know all about my little ‘anarchist’s perspective’, don’t you? Fantastic! I approve.
The rest of it has been…entertaining, I suppose. This city is different than I am used to. Younger-yet-older and terribly crowded at times. Noisy, even. And to be locked away to fully become what I am is to laugh at the Mother’s gift. To laugh at the Mother’s gift is to be cursed to sadness. I am sure that you do not understand but I spent many years of my life rebelling against these transformations. It was the wrong thing to do but it took many years and a good friend to learn that lesson and it will last longer than these silly injuries your little redneck goonsquad inflicted.
SO YOU HAD A GOOD EXPERIENCE HERE?
Have I? I haven’t been here long, to be sure. Only a cycle or two. But the System has its perks. You gave me the cash I asked for and I bought something from a stranger just for me. You can trace it, you can follow it, but it is still mine. If you bug my van you won’t hear anything I wouldn’t be perfectly willing to tell you in person. Go ahead. Though I want nothing to do with your little organization, I find it hardly prudent to ignore the gifts you can give me while I’m still in your good graces. That would just be stupid and ignorant—a far cry from ‘hypocritical’.
MANY PEOPLE SAY THEY FEAR THE CITY. WHAT ARE YOU AFRAID OF?
What am I scared of? What am I—are you really that stupid?! I’m terrified of killing someone again. There is so much anger within me that some days I’m not sure I would need the excuse of my lycan form to commit such an act. The System here is wrong. It was wrong at Home and it is wrong here. Locking us up will not change who we are, what we are. Samuel was right! It’s possible for us to live and to manage ourselves.
. . .
Since I’m running my mouth already, I might as well divulge in full, hmm? That’s what you want after all. My fears are simple. Like all ‘sane’ and ‘responsible’ werebeasts, I am terrified of killing or infecting another. I am afraid of personal attachments with ‘normal’ people. I know firsthand how badly that can end. Never again. The Mother will call, the Beast will answer, but the Man can still decide. You think it is foolish, don’t you? A boy’s dream. In a way, you are correct. This ‘dream’ is not mine but I pursue it to fulfill a debt. A debt I owe.
Also, I prefer knives to guns. Large ones. Most of my life, guns have been the weapons of cowards or thieves. The same is true for your stupid Eastern State Penitentiary and its worthless guards. They reek of fear. Fear and neutralization. Trigger-happy fools that they are.
WHAT ABOUT YOUR DREAMS? WHAT ARE YOUR GOALS?
My dream is to live without little men like you gawking over my shoulder criticizing my every breath. I don’t even need to lift a finger and you judge me already for breathing. Perhaps if I exhaled too strongly in your face some tainted moisture from my lungs would pass to you thus extending my curse to another poor unfortunate victim, right? Of course, right. I see it in your eyes—Fear, Hatred—but what do you see in mine, hmm?
I want a world where my brothers and sisters can live as we must. Wild and Free. We can exist in your cities, obey your laws, but when the Mother calls…we as her dutiful children have no choice but to obey—willing or no. My dream is that all weres may be free from the burden of shame and the compulsion to hide. There are more lepers in your colony then the weres alone, yes? Do you shun the man with AIDS because he could spit on you when he talks and you may catch his sickness? Do you tell your coughing child with the flu to go read his own bedtime story because you don’t want to receive his germs? To have what he has? It is not so different with my people.
We do not have to fight. We do not have to go against the Men we once were. But we must be free. Free…if only to police ourselves. Never again will I have a Man with a gun stand above me as if he controls my fate. As if I am some insignificant speck tainting his existence. I am the master of my own…
WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT THE EXISTENCE OF FAIRY TALE CREATURES—WEREWOLVES, GHOSTS, DRAGONS, PSYCHICS—THINGS LIKE THAT?
Fairy-tale creature, am I? Then where-oh-where might my sweet princessa be, eh? Are you hiding her, little Man? Do you guard her so jealously as you guard the leashes of the weres? So savagely as you clip the wings of the dragons and bind them to the Earth, never again to own the sky as is their right?! And what of the ghosts? What have you promised those poor forgotten souls that they tarry here in this miserable excuse of a ‘civilized’ place? As for the psychics…cowards that they are, they are not so different from ourselves. Perhaps they see this, but you reign them in with honeyed words and crystalline lies, yes? I would expect this from your ‘System’. In short, I believe in the existence of my brothers and sisters in ‘your world’, yes. Cherish your so-called peace. It will not last.
HOW WOULD YOU DESCRIBE YOURSELF?
I am courageous, fearless, bold, brazen, brash, irresponsible, reckless, uncaring, cruel, coarse, direct, blunt, brutal, determined…Take your pick. I don’t care for the petty ‘opinions’ of those too stupid to form their own impressions based on a worthwhile acquaintance of a meaningful span of time.
I am a man of very little patience. ‘Kindness’ and ‘Gentleness’ do not come easily to me. I care for a very small number of things in this world. My good name, my peace of mind, my pride, and my pack are really all that matter to me. Your opinion does not matter.
I am not interested in being some ‘ambassador of my species’. I am not some plaything or some trophy to wave around and gloat over. I have no interest in the superficial nonsense of your bustling ever-crowded world.
I will be the Me that I have been and I will continue to conduct myself as I have in the past. That should be more than satisfactory for any man.
THAT’S ABOUT EVERYTHING. IF YOU’LL JUST PLEASE FILL OUT THIS SHEET, WE’LL BE ON OUR WAY.
For the sake of completion…I became a werewolf when I was four. My memory of what occurred to cause my transformation is…fuzzy at best. And unpleasant. No doubt you wonder about my collar. It’s leather, black, a gift from a friend. The studs are silver for…obvious reasons, I’d imagine.
FREEDOM SUBMISSION PLAYER PAGE
NAME
Beth again.
IF YOU CHOOSE YOU CAN LIVE YOUR LIFE ALONE
SOME PEOPLE CHOOSE THE CITY.
