Building an army. Shaping the world. (Cat stuff)

[Maggie]

"See." The little woman begins. "We have been under the foot of the main-streamers and the liars and cheaters...for too long."

"These...men...see...these men they don't care about you. They didn't care about me. See? They want to lock you up. Fill you with designer drugs with names you can't pronounce. That's what these men want. These..doctors and politicians...they want to build walls and they lie. They will lie to you and tell you it's for your own safety. Yes? Right? But no. No it is not for your own safety. They build walls to protect the ones on the outside of the walls from us on the inside."

The group sat nodding their head. Five men and two women, all of various ages and races and in varying stages of mental illness.

"Right? But the ones on the outside are the crazy ones. They're the ones we need protecting from! This neat little box they've set us all up in. This world of fat politicians and capitalism. Take the blue pill! Stay asleep! Buy! Consume! Obey!"

The small little meeting held in the bowels of an empty warehouse near Colfax erupts in applause and validated cheers for the little thing speaking to their sense of persecution and paranoia. Behind her is Patrick, her best and most trusted friend, and the small gang of thugs he commands.

"We don't buy or consume and we're gonna stop obeying! We are the world. We are the children! We're going to make a brighter fucking place for all of the little people like us starting tonight."

"How are we gonna do that?" Asks one middle aged man with a big greying beard.

"Chaos. Anarchy. Revolution." Cat smiles at them. Smiles that odd, unsettling smile at all of them and nods in agreement to her own words.

"The blasphemers and idolaters and bullshitters...we're going to show them why they shouldn't be so stuffy. And I'm going to take care of you. All of you. I'm your mummy. I'm your God. I'm your fucking Dr. Spock. Do you trust me?"

There was applaud and a raucous roar of agreement.

"Patrick. Go get your new brothers and sisters pizza. And juice. Pizza and juice for all!"

And so there was.
And it was good.
For now.
Until it isn't.
And Patrick says an Amen to his other God and is filled with both anticipation and great fear for when it isn't good or okay any more.

[Maggie]

"Do you think that's a good idea?" Patrick asked his regnant, the barrel of a .38 being used to scratch a faint itch on his scalp. "I mean, I don't know Miss Cat. That's an awful lot of gas to have in a car."

"It's a truck. Not a car, silly Patrick. And we all make sacrifices."

"But..I mean Miss Cat....if we smack a bump too hard..." He made an exaggeration with his hand, representing an explosion.

"We all make sacrifices Patrick."

There are parts of Denver that are bad. Then there are parts that are really bad. There are nicer parts, and then there are affluent sections that are insulated well enough that the upper crust of society never really are troubled with what occurs among the lower rungs of humanity, even within their own city.

Cat has settled into a warehouse, abandoned for years and forgotten when the economy took a downturn, in one of those really bad parts of the City. This is where Cat is keeping her brood. Patrick wasn't so sure about these sacrifices. They had almost 75 gallon containers of gasoline in the back of the box truck, too many fireworks and shot gun shells. He was driving really slow, but every single bump on the way to the warehouse made him wince.

In the warehouse, the group that Cat has gathered are busy. The rational mind would say not to give a schizophrenic a knife and certainly don't give them dangerous chemicals with which they could blow themselves up. But Cat is very liberal and her mind doesn't work the way that the rational mind works.

The beeping of the truck in reverse as it backs into the warehouse is like an alarm for the gang inside. They flock to the truck and Cat scowls. Shooing them away with a quick flash of fingers and fangs. She's promised them Mecca. Heaven. A world without their own Others (though she couldn't imagine why they would want that...) and peace.

And she plans on delivering, just not right ...now.

Right now she has Patrick guide them into unloading the truck. Stacking the gasoline in a back locked and ventilated room away from the fireworks they stocked up on after the nation celebrated their two-hundred-something birthday. Cat wasn't impressed with this. her sire was older than this country and she wasn't far behind.

No one sat off fireworks for them on their re-birthdays.

"Pizza and punch!" She declared as one of the men carried boxes of pizza to a nearby table. She went to another. Bit into her wrist and held it over small red Solo cups. Letting her vitae drain into each one of the ten. "But, medicine first. We always must take our medicine or we will be ill. I cannot take care of you if you don't take your medicine. You can't have any pudding if you don't take your medicine."

There's pushing and shoving and grumbling before the lot of them settle into a semi-straight and orderly line to get their medicine so they can have their punch and pizza and best of all their pudding.