Post by Diana Vernon on Sept 19, 2015 18:20:34 GMT -6
As the group funneled through the opened barricade entrance, Diana's lips pursed as she saw the younger woman and the old man whispering. The grizzled man had an aggressive demeanor to him, even more obvious after his condescension towards Marshall. As they continued leading them to their headquarters, the man seemed to be throwing everything he had on his mind to the woman, Ashe she quickly reminded herself. He was trouble, like punching a wasp's nest. Her fists tightened, pacing towards them and swiftly pushing him away from Ashe, nostrils flared, lips quirked up.
"I don't know who you think you are," she began, her hands lazily pressed on the holster of her Beretta, "but this isn't a bar. Or a refugee camp. This is a place of order. If you think you can sit there and conspire or plan or gossip about the latest hot new fads in post-shitstorm Chicago, then these negotiations will be over. Fast." She looked at Ashe, shaking her head. No talking til we're inside, got it? You got something to say, you say it to my face or you're out. Keep moving."
She's never let so many people into the compound, usually individuals interested in the cause, or ignorant but skillful, willing to discipline themselves for the right cause. They were, as she knew it, the only sense of law in all Chicago. If they were refugees they wouldn't be let in, but not only are they trying to go after the Sanctum, they hold no interest in joining. Even if she cared how they felt about their treatment, they're a ragtag band of self-righteous idiots who think they can get Stella's Freedom to do their dirty work they wouldn't have the power to. If they're going to fight with real soldiers, they should know to take commands. Otherwise they'll just die. The death of people that want to bring down the Sanctum benefits no one except the Sanctum.
She turned her gaze back on the grizzled man, her eyes unmoving, almost challenging. "You gonna get going, or do my boys need to give you a tour outside the barricades?"
"I don't know who you think you are," she began, her hands lazily pressed on the holster of her Beretta, "but this isn't a bar. Or a refugee camp. This is a place of order. If you think you can sit there and conspire or plan or gossip about the latest hot new fads in post-shitstorm Chicago, then these negotiations will be over. Fast." She looked at Ashe, shaking her head. No talking til we're inside, got it? You got something to say, you say it to my face or you're out. Keep moving."
She's never let so many people into the compound, usually individuals interested in the cause, or ignorant but skillful, willing to discipline themselves for the right cause. They were, as she knew it, the only sense of law in all Chicago. If they were refugees they wouldn't be let in, but not only are they trying to go after the Sanctum, they hold no interest in joining. Even if she cared how they felt about their treatment, they're a ragtag band of self-righteous idiots who think they can get Stella's Freedom to do their dirty work they wouldn't have the power to. If they're going to fight with real soldiers, they should know to take commands. Otherwise they'll just die. The death of people that want to bring down the Sanctum benefits no one except the Sanctum.
She turned her gaze back on the grizzled man, her eyes unmoving, almost challenging. "You gonna get going, or do my boys need to give you a tour outside the barricades?"