07-01-2013, 01:44 PM
"Yeah, family reunion," says Marcellus, trying for a smile but not quite making it. There's a flash of yellowed ivories, a hint of the garrulous cheer, but face to face with the Full Blood, it doesn't quite manifest. Instead, the older man runs his fingers over his hair, smoothing it down, patting the scruffy tail at the back of his head as if making sure it's still there, and then shoves his hands into his pockets.
"And me?" Flash of a nervous smile. It's so damn easy to imagine Jack losing his shit, losing his cool, and things going bad. Going ugly, fast. "I've been in town longer than you've been riding hogs." A pause. "That'd be about ten years or so now. What year is it? Maybe more by this point. Long enough. To notice when things are getting funny. Which they are."
He's rambling, he knows he is, but he can't help it. "A friend of mine, she almost checked into a place called The House of the Covenant? Anyways, I tagged along to make sure things were kosher, and they weren't. I had to get her out of there before signed away her right to an attorney, right to, uh, well giving others medical rights over her, and restricting her ability to meet with anybody else without approval. 'Re-entry' program, it was called, but with funny spelling. Supposed to help folks get back into society, but they, uh, they straight up lied to her about what was what."
Marcellus rubs the back of his neck. Can't seem to stand still. "So I went and talked to another friend of mine, a pastor, and he had some shit to say about this group. Really thinks bad about 'em, especially, their - what did he call it - their Tuskagee Syphilis program? I don't know what that is, but it sounded real bad. They got all kinds of programs goin' on, and they're all really successful and really weird. Strings in Town Hall too, I reckon, seeing as how they're able to get permits and shit where nobody else has got 'em before."
Marcellus cuts Jack a sideways look. It's clear he's got more to say, but he's also nervous about talking too much. No telling what'll annoy a Full Blood.
"And me?" Flash of a nervous smile. It's so damn easy to imagine Jack losing his shit, losing his cool, and things going bad. Going ugly, fast. "I've been in town longer than you've been riding hogs." A pause. "That'd be about ten years or so now. What year is it? Maybe more by this point. Long enough. To notice when things are getting funny. Which they are."
He's rambling, he knows he is, but he can't help it. "A friend of mine, she almost checked into a place called The House of the Covenant? Anyways, I tagged along to make sure things were kosher, and they weren't. I had to get her out of there before signed away her right to an attorney, right to, uh, well giving others medical rights over her, and restricting her ability to meet with anybody else without approval. 'Re-entry' program, it was called, but with funny spelling. Supposed to help folks get back into society, but they, uh, they straight up lied to her about what was what."
Marcellus rubs the back of his neck. Can't seem to stand still. "So I went and talked to another friend of mine, a pastor, and he had some shit to say about this group. Really thinks bad about 'em, especially, their - what did he call it - their Tuskagee Syphilis program? I don't know what that is, but it sounded real bad. They got all kinds of programs goin' on, and they're all really successful and really weird. Strings in Town Hall too, I reckon, seeing as how they're able to get permits and shit where nobody else has got 'em before."
Marcellus cuts Jack a sideways look. It's clear he's got more to say, but he's also nervous about talking too much. No telling what'll annoy a Full Blood.