[center] [h1]Newsworthy[/h1] [img]http://i.imgur.com/jzzw4on.jpg[/img] [h2][color 33ec06]Marcus Howell[/color][/h2] [img]http://i.imgur.com/3R5vYYi.png?2[/img] [hr][color=silver] 𝕊𝕖𝕡𝕥. 𝟙𝟞, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 / / 𝕃𝕒 ℙ𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕒, 𝕄𝕒𝕣𝕪𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕕 / / 𝕋𝕠𝕨𝕟 / / 𝟘𝟠𝟛𝟘 [/color][/center][hr] It was a long night for Marcus, considering the lack of sleep. He'd managed to at least pick himself off the floor and splash some water on his face, trying to bring himself back to his senses. He deliberately didn't look at himself in the mirror - it wasn't the face he saw when he thought about Marcus. This was the face of the Marcus that was faking a personality, a Marcus who had left all his problems for the actual one to deal with. He'd berated that portion of himself enough, and right now he didn't even want to see him. He just needed a while to settle down. Then he'd welcome that version of himself back with open arms. Right now, he at least had something that he wanted to do. A goal to keep his mind off things. He needed to make his way down to the library and find a few books for Siena. It'd help him get some fresh air, and by the time he got everything down to the hospital, he'd hopefully be back to his usual self. Well, his usual self since the Dream. His shirt and pants were wrinkled, but he was in no mood to fix his appearance. He just wanted out. He stepped out of the room, looking both ways down the hall to make sure none of his classmates were around. The last thing he wanted to do in this state was run into someone he knew, god forbid Emma or Ernie find him in the sorry position he was in. Fortunately, he seemed to be in the clear. The only other person in the hall was what he assumed to be a guard, his assumptions confirmed when he told the man he was going out, only to get an angry glare. Definitely a guard. The only obstacle between him and the sweet refreshment of the crisp morning air was the reporters, who he imagined had started to gather in even more force now that the word had undoubtedly spread. Perhaps he'd take the back door again, see if the same trick worked twice. It wouldn't. Standing just a few meters outside the door was a woman in a carefully tailored pantsuit with shoulder-length brown hair curled and parted to one side and swept neatly onto her right shoulder. She wore light makeup and didn't seem concerned with the mark on Marcus's face as much as Marcus himself. Strangely enough, she and her cameraman were the only ones there waiting for him. [color f7976a]"Good morning!"[/color] she greeted as she approached, a bobbing camera perched on the shoulder of her taller coworker following immediately after her. [color f7976a]"I'll cut to the chase--mind answering a few questions?"[/color] Marcus's stride only stopped for a moment as he realized there was only a single reporter waiting for him. However, in deciding he didn't want his less-than-stellar current appearance plastered all over the televisions, he continued walking. This was not something he was in the mood for this morning, and with any luck he'd be able to leave without much of a problem. "[color 33ec06]Yep, definitely mind. Not buying, thank you.[/color]" he said, trying to avoid eye contact with the camera. [color f7976a]"One call and I can have the other reporters rushing back here. You can pick them or me."[/color] The woman's voice didn't follow him. She remained in place, leaning back on her heels and crossing her arms. "[color 33ec06]Oooh, multiple choice questions, huh?[/color]" Marcus said, slowing down a little bit. His tone made it perfectly clear than he was neither impressed, nor very threatened by this faux 'hostage' scenario. "[color 33ec06]Do I get a third option, teach?[/color]" [color f7976a]"One bad word and USARILN East won't like the sound of it on their reputations. And it's a 50/50 gamble if they get rid of you or just silence the media--or both, even."[/color] [i]That[/i] statement caused him a bit of pause. They wouldn't get rid of him just for the word of one lousy reporter, would they? As if she could guess at the reason for his hesitation, then woman smiled. [color f7976a]"I've got a lot more pull than most people think."[/color] His mind flashed back to the first day. A guard executed for flinching. "[color 33ec06]I get a question first.[/color]" Marcus said, finally turning around and crossing his arms. "[color 33ec06]What exactly makes you so special?[/color]" [color f7976a]"Because I've covered some of the worst things this decade. My name pulls a few strings in the media community. Not as many these days since I've...relaxed a bit, but enough."[/color] She took a microphone from the cameraman's saddle bag, brushing off flecks of imaginary dust as she continued. [color f7976a]"Marianne Forhan. I reported on the disaster at Palo Alto nine years ago. The Slumber before that. Then Cat's Cradle and Chicago. Worst thing I've seen? What's left of China. So don't lump me in with the rest of these reporters who take the safe stories."[/color] Her cameraman looked at her with some surprise, the details apparently news to him as well. [color f7976a]"So how about it? While the rest of them are off chasing a bad tip, we have some time."[/color] Marcus looked at her for another moment, as if weighing the pros and cons of the whole situation. But...if this lady were as big as she claimed to be, would he be able to help, even a little bit? Even the ice cream vendor had been frightened, and he hadn't even done anything to the poor kid besides a quick quip at his expense. Maybe he could show a little subhuman hospitality, spread the good word around, show the people there was nothing to be afraid of? "[color 33ec06]Any chance you can keep the camera off me? I'm not exactly fit for television this morning.[/color]" [color f7976a]"Don't be ridiculous. The battle-weary look sells stories."[/color] Another sigh. "[color 33ec06]Alright Mari. Shoot.[/color]" [color f7976a]"Perfect. Let's go live. Countdown!"[/color] She positioned herself beside Marcus so both of them angled towards the camera. Her cameraman counted down on his hand offscreen: 5, 4, 3, 2, 1. [color f7976a]"Good morning, citizens of La Plata! This is Marianne Forhan of KLPN coming to you live from the East Winds Motel with a subnatural from the renowned--and feared--USARILN East. Tell us your name?"[/color] She angled the microphone towards Marcus. Almost immediately, Marcus could feel the pressure. As if all of those peering eyes were crowded in this tiny alley together, just staring him down. He straightened his posture, trying to look as professional as he possibly could on such short notice. "[color 33ec06]Marc-[/color]" Shit. He really should have used a fake name or something. "[color 33ec06]Just Marc.[/color]" [color f7976a]"All right, Marc. Is it true USARILN East handled the situation at Wisford? And were you a part of that effort?"[/color] His mind raced for a moment. Was he supposed to comment on these sort of things? Would he be in even more trouble if he [i]didn't[/i]? The truth would get out eventually...if not him, then someone else. Yeah. That made sense. "[color 33ec06]That is correct. I was part of the team sent in to handle and defuse the incident.[/color]" [color f7976a]"Could you tell us more about that?"[/color] "[color 33ec06]As far as we were briefed, there was a rogue creature rampaging throughout the little town. I don't know how familiar you are with standard classification, but this was rated at a 3, possibly 4 - a very significant threat. My abilities are more suited for extraction, so I was placed on the back lines, and was not actually part of the team that fought it head on.[/color]" [color f7976a]"And what abilities are those, exactly?"[/color] "[color 33ec06]It's a little hard to explain on the spot. Basic mobility enhancing powers would be the easiest way to phrase it.[/color]" [color f7976a]"So how does it work? Is it superspeed? Flexibility?"[/color] "[color 33ec06]I can get into and out of an area very quickly. Jump forwards or backwards a few moments, if you will.[/color]" [color f7976a]"Wait, you move through time?"[/color] The camera swung to Marcus's face. He turned from Mari to look at the camera for a moment, before diverting his eyes back down to the reporter. "[color 33ec06]That's the basic gist of it, yes. Without complicating things; I can really only move through a 'personal' timeline. No effect on any external sources.[/color]" [color f7976a]"That's amazing! There are no formal records made public from any of the Institutes, but as far as I'm aware very few subnaturals have time-related powers. Is it possible for you to reverse even death with that ability?"[/color] Marcus let his guard down for a moment, the question hitting a little harder than he would have liked. "[color 33ec06]As I said, no effect on any external sources. For me to find that out, I'd have to [i]die[/i], which is not something I'm too keen on testing, you see.[/color]" A faked chuckle for a forced joke. [color f7976a]"Fascinating. And you were assigned an extraction duty? Does it move others with you?"[/color] "[color 33ec06]It does not. As I said: no external sources, personal effects only. It's good for getting into an area and assessing the situation rapidly, but actually extracting people is left to the old-fashioned way.[/color]" [color f7976a]"And were you successful?"[/color] Now there was a question. Had he been successful? Could he actually consider what had happened on that battlefield a 'victory' for Team Evac? Savannah dead, Lawrence nearly killed, a million other things that could have possibly gone wrong and inevitably did? "[color 33ec06]We did manage to extract some civilians. The unfortunate reality is that we weren't able to save as many as I would have liked, so calling it a 'success' is entirely subjective.[/color]" [color f7976a]"But you managed to save several civilians, then. Now to change the tune slightly, did you want to?"[/color] "[color 33ec06]Absolutely.[/color]" His tone was strong. If he couldn't use his powers to help, then what exactly did that make him? Less than human? The very thing he was trying to avoid? [color f7976a]"Everyone knows how the Institutes capture and detain subnaturals. It's a cruel fact that most of the subnatural help during crises is often involuntary. So even with that forced service, you claim with no hesitation that you were still willing to help?"[/color] "[color 33ec06]Yes. I'm not sure [i]why[/i] I was chosen by DC, or if there even [i]was[/i] a reason, but I know I was given the ability to help where I hadn't been able to before. If you had the chance to help even one person Mari, wouldn't you?[/color]" The reporter laughed, a genuine sound in the midst of the otherwise bitter situation. [color f7976a]"I think anyone would say 'yes' in this context, Marc. But it's good to know that for all that's happened, you'd still help those who can't help themselves. Do you think that philosophy will remain true in the days to come?"[/color] "[color 33ec06]If it didn't, then I'd be very disappointed with myself.[/color]" [color f7976a]"A good answer. No promises that you might not keep. So tell me about yourself, Marc? You weren't always a subnatural I hope. That cuff wasn't always on your ankle."[/color] "[color 33ec06]That's a boring story, Mari; not one fit for your viewers. You could ask any kid out there what he was like, and get a similar story to mine. I'm just a guy, is all.[/color]" A deflection, and a soft shrug. 'Himself' wasn't exactly a topic he wanted to discuss right now, especially after the crisis he'd had last night. [color f7976a]"Well, you didn't always have those scars, right?"[/color] "[color 33ec06]No. I didn't/[/color]" The words were soft and shallow, the speech of someone who'd been kicked up and down for longer than anybody deserved. "[color 33ec06]But that's a relatively fresh look for me, and a fairly personal one. I'd prefer not to talk about it, if you wouldn't mind.[/color]" [color f7976a]"A tragedy in the background, huh? How about your family? Or the day you got your powers. What was that like?"[/color] His family. The day he got his powers. Constant images that only served to taunt and hurt him, rather than the hopefully story that he wanted to be. He glanced away from Marianne, looking to the ground instead. Looking anywhere to avoid the thousands of eyes he could feel on him. "[color 33ec06]No more questions.[/color]" The woman looked like she had a million more questions, but she stopped at the sight of the young boy hanging his head. It was defeat and it was despair and she knew enough of that look to recognize a battered survivor when she saw one. She turned instead back to the camera, stepping away from the subnatural so the camera no longer held him in frame. [color f7976a]"You saw it here first, everyone. A firsthand look at a subnatural, a fighter, and a survivor. We rarely get the opportunity to personally interview USARILN students, let alone ones from USARILN East, so thank you, Marc, for your time. I'll let you go now."[/color] The cameraman panned back to Marcus one more time and zoomed in, timing the feed until the cut-off. When he gave Marianne the thumbs up, she turned back to Marcus, resting one hand briefly on his shoulder. [color f7976a]"Hey,"[/color] she called out. Her cameraman flinched backwards, ready for some burst of power to annihilate them. But there was nothing of the sort, even if Marcus wanted to, the most he'd be able to do was sucker punch them a couple of times. Instead, he took a deep breath, trying to regain the composure he'd almost lost for the second time in a few hours. He was going to be fine. He'd take a walk to clear his head, piece the mask back together one little bit at a time. "[color 33ec06]Sorry, didn't mean to cut you off early.[/color]" he said, giving a shattered smile to the reporter. [color f7976a]"Trick to looking confident. Always keep your chin up. You can be crying mascara, but if that chin stays up, you'll still look put-together,"[/color] the reporter replied, eyes scanning his face briefly before she stepped back while a sympathetic smile. [color f7976a]"It doesn't get any easier. Especially for you guys. Good work, making it this far."[/color] The cameraman murmured something that sounded like "Station wants you back" after a quick check on his phone and she sighed, checking her wristwatch--a remnant of old-fashioned timekeeping. [color f7976a]"Whatever happened..."[/color] she said, eyeing the boy, [color f7976a]"you'll have to learn to live with it--or you'll just die with it. Trust me on that."[/color] A tap on her shoulder from the cameraman and she spun on her heels, heading back to the news van parked down the street. [i]Chin up[/i]. A tip he'd have to remember. He was shocked to hear the words of encouragement (or what he assumed to be encouragement at least) from the woman, when mere moments ago she had been threatening to get him killed. He was trying to learn to live with it. God knew he was. But it wasn't an easy thing to do - it would never be an easy thing to do. Damned if he wasn't going to keep trying though. He straightened himself out a little bit, looking at the back of the reporter as she walked away. "[color 33ec06]Hey Mari![/color]" he called out, following without waiting to see if she stopped. "[color 33ec06]...stay safe out there, alright?[/color]" She didn't respond as she stepped onto the van, but Marianne heard him. [color f7976a]"Safe's not where the stories are, Marc,"[/color] she said to herself, sitting down as the car began to move. It felt like time to stop taking a break recently. It wasn't so much giving up as trying to get away from the same cycle of unhappiness that plagued the inhospitable decade, but Marianne chewed lightly on the inside of her cheek as she considered following the turn of events and USARILN East in particular.