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Titans Started by: DickGrayson on Apr 05, '21 20:36

I stood with my back against the brick of the building, drawing a deep inhale of the cigarette lit the darkness slightly. I’d spent most of my time recently hopping from city to city making connections and deals throughout the country. Fortunately, with all that traveling, it gave me chance to sit and roll back over my memories. Some good, some not so good.

The main thing I kept going over was that there was no way I’d have made it this far, survived this long, without a lot of help along the way. Truthfully, there are far too many that have guided me and took me under their wing that I could ever possibly list them all.

I bounced around for a bit in my younger days, taking in all that I could before finding a loving home under @PoisionIvy’s tutelage in The Panic Room. That was where I really got a taste for this life of ours, when I started trying to not be a product of my environment but rather have my environment be a product of me. I listened, I learned, I grew. I always held fond memories of my time in Vegas, it was home, the first tangible one I ever had.

It was bittersweet when I received news of markopoulo-‘s setting up in New York and subsequently asking if I would accept the position of Right Hand. The prestige of such an invitation was not lost on me. As much as I loved my time in the Sun City, I was increasingly feeling the urge to spread my wings a bit. Give some things a go that I haven’t tried before. The offer was just too good to turn down.

When I settled into New York, I did what I always did. I listened, I learned, I grew. I began to understand the intricacies that I hadn’t before. The difference between when diplomacy is warranted or if a heavy hand may be better suited for the situation. That was always a fine line but it became a bit clearer the more I learned.

I worked hard, kept my head down for the most part and went about my business. Nothing flashy, but that wasn’t my style. I always preferred to move in the gray areas than in the black and whites. I earned trust, first markopoulo-‘s then Whirl’s. It wasn’t anything that happened over night. And it certainly took both time and effort but I was patient. Truthfully, I never thought I’d survive this long running around the way that I do sometimes, so anything now is an added bonus. 

Pushing off the wall slightly, I let my eyes travel up the building as I drew another inhale before pulling my smoke away from my lips as I did. The Tower wasn’t cheap but this was exactly why I had it built in the first place. If I was going to do this, any of this really, the first thing I needed was somewhere that I could feel safe. And with the amount that I spent on security for this place, it might just be the safest place in New York. It was just what I needed, a place that the Titans could call home, safely perched above the bustling streets of the city.

Just like everything else, the time has come to evolve and change with the times or get left behind. I wasn’t much for trying to play catch up these days to say the least. It was time to move onto something else, another chance at shaping my environment around me.

I drew in the last inhale of my smoke, dropping it to the sidewalk beneath my feet as I held the breath in for an extra moment. The nervousness and adrenaline were beginning to mix into my bloodstream stream now. It was time to take the next challenge. Letting the breath go finally, I smoothed out my jacket with my palms before tipping my hat politely towards the doorman, Nicolas, as he swung the door open. 

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Honor. Respect. Omerta. These were the tenets of their underworld society. Chester, as he was now called, stood outside the Titans HQ and gazed upon the noble yet subtle building with a growing sense of pride. These doors were his portal into La Cosa Nostra. 

Chester would have a chance to make the most of himself here. He had a chance to do something great. More than anything, he had a chance to leave his old self behind. His old life, if you could call it that. His dark secret. 

As he made his way around the local neighborhoods, he could see the rackets were there for the taking. Gambling, protection, prostitution, it could all be theirs. Garbage was strewn all over the streets, crying out for some local businessmen with good intentions to take over the city contract. Bread floated in a puddle by his feet.

Having gotten the lay of the land and with a belly full of whole wheat, it was time to pay his respects to the don. He entered the building and stood by the office door, bracing himself against a sudden onslaught of painful memories. Memories of his last father figure...Dr. Devin Motorcycle: his creator. 

"Excuse me, Nicolas, is Don Grayson in?"

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“Mr. Grayson has been expecting you, QuackersFeatherbeak.” Nicolas stoically held the door open, “He said to wait for him on the twenty first floor.”

I was busy rummaging through paper work with scotch in hand when Nicolas dialed up. Truthfully, at this point, I was looking for just about any distraction from the seemingly endless pile of paperwork. I swear I picked up more paper cuts in the past week than I had my entire life up to that point. 

I grabbed the bottle of scotch by the neck, running a hand absentmindedly through my hair as I did. Pausing for a moment, I thought about throwing a tie on and slipping into a jacket but I was far too tired for that at the moment and I certainly wasn’t in the business of putting on appearances. 

Before stepping onto the elevator, I filled two fresh glasses with ice, cradling in one hand between my finger tips as I pushed the button for twenty one. Things had gotten off to a bit of a rocky start but now seemed like a good of a time as any to turn things around. Things around these parts usually turned on a dime most of the time.

I spied QuackersFeatherbeak standing beside the bar that sat along the far wall, his stance looking a little awkward, a little nervous. I stepped from the elevator, glasses and bottle in hand with a welcoming smile plastered across my face, “Ahh, evening QuackersFeatherbeak! I hope you’re finding your way in the city easy enough!”

Placing the glasses down on the small end table, I filled them each up before taking a seat, motioning for him to take a seat as well. “I’m glad you could make it. Things have been hectic of late but no matter about that now. First and foremost, what can I do to help you settle in? If you’re in need of a place to stay, the top floors here at The Tower are reserved for the family. Might just be one of the safest places in New York at the moment.”

Lifting my glass, I lightly clinked it against my guest’s, “Cash will be wired into your account, if you happen to run into any trouble and need some more, don’t hesitate to ask. If any one of us are struggling than we all are. No reason to have that if we can avoid it after all.”

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A place to stay, huh? Chester appreciated the don's generosity, despite being briefly floored by a wave of small traumas, of things he was trying to forget. Of that dark day. Nobody had called him Quackers since that day. The day it all changed...the day he was framed for the murder of his father and creator, Dr. Devin Motorcycle. 

"Papa! PAPAAAAAA", he had cried. A bat scurried out of a broken window. Thick plasma flooded the floor, leaking out of shattered incubation chambers filled with dying human-animal hybrids. Moo-Moo Mary, the cow-woman abomination, gasped for breath. Dr. Devin Motorcycle, her creator and lover, lay draped across her tough, leathery torso, body riddled with bullet holes. Only Quackers survived. Only he knew what really happened.

He snapped back to reality with a stiff drink. 

"Just a few days to get back on my feet is all I need, boss. Your kindness will be repaid. I spotted some opportunities for easy income around the local neighborhoods as I walked around earlier, protection, gambling, that kind of thing. There's a lot of room to grow here. And I've got a lot of...frustration to beat out of the unlucky schlubs who get in our way."

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“Well, take your time to get settled. Acclimate to your surroundings. See if you can get a bit of a lay of the land. It’s always nice knowing where you’re running to when the time comes that you have to.”

I drew another small sip from my glass, eyeing up the man. There was definitely more to him than meets the eye. What that could be, I didn’t have the faintest clue at the moment. I was more or less hoping that whatever QuackersFeatherbeak was running from and trying to bury wasn’t going to follow him here. 

And as far as repaying me goes. Work hard. Build a better life for yourself first and foremost. If you can stay out of trouble that’d be great but I also know that’s not always the case in this life of ours. You’ll need to learn how to find that thin line between trouble that you can get out of and trouble that you can’t. Once you figure out where that is, it’s relatively smooth sailing.”

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Trouble that you can get out of and trouble that you can't. The words hung heavy in the air, triggering another breach into his memory palace...

ONE WEEK AFTER THE ATTACK

EXT. A BEIRUT SAFEHOUSE - NIGHT

"We have visual on the target, over."

"Copy, soon as you get a clean shot, take that monster out."

"Roger that."

Quackers floated aimlessly around the circular fountain of Dr. Devin Motorcycle's secret Lebanese villa, recounting the events of the previous week, when his world had been upended completely. His broad duck feet were tucked up into his body, which was quite cozy and felt nice. A tactical strike team perches on the scaffolding of a nearby building. 

CUT TO: THE ATTACK

INT. DR. MOTORCYCLE'S LAB - NIGHT

The cops had come crashing through the lab doors just moments after the attack. They'd gotten there fast. Too fast. This was a set up. He'd been framed. And God knows, it didn't look good. The doctor - his father, his creator - was dead. Everyone was dead. Everyone but Quackers, whose feathers were drenched in so much blood he could barely waddle to the storage closet to trigger the secret escape hatch. Sliding on his smooth, feathered belly, he raced for the blast doors, turning to see an entire strike squad of SWAT officers bearing down on him. 

"Sorry boys. I take my bacon burnt to a crisp."

He flipped the lab self-destruct mechanism as the doors closed. Sometimes the duck hunts back. 

CUT TO: PRESENT DAY

INT. TITAN HQ - NIGHT

"You know what, that's good advice, Dick. Damn good advice. The truth is, I'm after revenge. And I keep thinking to myself, is it worth it? Why not just let it go? Move on with my life? And the man in me thinks I should. The man in me says to give it up and live, damnit. But the duck in me can't accept that. The duck in me will do anything."

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“Hm, revenge. It can be a powerful motivator or the beginning of the quick descent into madness. I suggest treason lightly in issues such as that. There is always more than meets the eye. They can form scars you won’t even know you have.”

There was something dangerous about QuackersFeatherbeak, something that I was getting the sinking suspicion that he wasn’t even trying to hide anymore. He seemed dead set, a man on a mission. Those weren’t the type of people that I usually tried to step in front of. It never ended well. The right thing to do was let him go, maybe keep an eye on things, corral him back onto the path when he began to stray. It wasn’t going to be easy.

Seems to me like you’ve got a choice to make. Do you grasp onto your human side? Try to stick to a path of logic and reason? Or do you let the animalistic side reign? The side the acts without thinking, the savage side? That’s only a choice that you can make. No body can make that for you. I will tell you though, I’ve slipped into the revenge spiral. Probably more times that I rightfully should have. But the only reason I’m here now, the only reason Titans is standing, is because I didn’t go it alone. I found people to trust. People to push me on when my body gave out. This world is a fuck of a lot harder when you try and go it alone.”

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ONE WEEK AFTER THE ATTACK

EXT. A BEIRUT SAFEHOUSE - NIGHT

Shots ring through the air. QuackersFeatherbeak is pressed up against the face of an overturned table, an AK-47 clutched tightly to his plump duck breast. Dr. Devin Motorcycle's secret Lebanese villa is up in flames. No time to think. Only action now. The strike team mercenaries have him pinned down.

"You like Mexican food?", he shouts as he steps out of cover, white feathers caked in black soot. 

"Because I'm about to turn you boys into quackamole."

He unleashes the assault rifle, emptying the whole damn clip: RAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT. The empty clip hits the floor, another is locked in: RAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT. Another clip hits the floor, Quackers is manic, all he sees is a red mist: RAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT.

The mercenaries are shot to pieces. There's barely anything solid left. He slips a grenade out of his belt and pulls the pin. Quackers rolls the explosive behind him and exits the villa doors. 

KABOOM

 

CUT TO: PRESENT DAY

INT. TITAN HQ - NIGHT

"There were people in my life I trusted more than anything, boss. My creator, Dr. Devin Motorcycle. His lover, Mary, a Frankensteinian horror. But they're gone. Murdered. Revenge has been the only thing keeping me going, keeping me from going down to the pond and eating so much bread my damn tummy explodes. Sometimes you get so caught up in it, you lose sight of who you are. What you are. Sometimes I look at myself in the mirror and I don't see a duck. I see a monster. Look at me, Grayson. What do you see?"

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“To be honest, QuackersFeatherbeak, I see someone at a crossroads. Someone trying to decide where they fit in this world. You can seek your revenge, but there’s no guarantee that will help anything. If you do go down that route, and it works out like you’d plan, it’s just going to leave a void there.”

I leaned back slightly in my chair, stretching my arms high over my head, “You’ll need to find something to fill in the gap beside the revenge. Anything to lean on when things get heavy, when you don’t know your next move. Your life can’t revolve around it. It’ll crush you. It will weigh you down until you feel like you can’t move.”

I let my eyes wander away for a moment as I finished my drink in one quick pull, “I’m not saying to let it go or walk away. What I’m suggesting is that you find something else as well. Split your focus even if it just for a little bit to be able to catch your breath again.”

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It had been quite some time since Nola made her way into Manhattan, quite too long actually. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to it was just how the cards fell. Things in the Bronx kept her busy... it wasn’t until sitting at her desk that she began thinking as such. Thinking about the people she works with in Manhattan, one in particular that she has had a history with. A rather good history let me add. DickGrayson... 

A man whom had been given the reigns to oversee his own operation. Sure it had been up and running for a bit now and sure she had already phoned him to congratulate him but she had yet to see him face to face since. Had yet to see what he had put together. 

Was as if the idea overtook her, causing her to spring up from her desk. Her quick action caused her guard, to briefly panic. The look on his face was rather priceless, one of which Nola couldn’t help smirking at. 

“Calm down there killer...” She paused for a moment, giving him a second to calm down some. “Go get the car, we’re gonna take a trip out to Manhattan.”

He didn’t question it, just gave her a nod before getting up and walking out of the room. Nola proceeded to gather her things, mainly her bag and a light coat. Then proceeded out of her office and out towards the front. By the time she had gotten outside, her car was parked out front with the backdoor opened. There were of course a few men already seated in the vehicle, some of her guards... walking down the stairs, Nola got into the car. The driver craned his neck backwards.

”Where about in Manhattan ma’am?” 

“Titans headquarters!”

With a nod he turned back about and began driving. They drove and they drove, the drive seemed like forever but in reality it didn’t take long at all. Needless to say her patience to sit still wasn’t the best. Though in no time they had reached the limits of Manhattan and moments later where parked in front of the Titans HQ. 

Usually she waits for her guards to usher her out of the car but not this time. As soon as the car stopped, Nola flung the door opened and basically skipped up the stairs and to the front door. To her surprise though, she wasn’t the first one at the door. Needless to say, her guys were good. The one opened the door for her, allowing her to step into the building. 

Once in she didn’t even bother to look around, just began calling for the man himself. 

“Dick!... Mr. Grayson... I know you’re here...”

She waited and watched as one of her men went down the hall. Possibly scoping the place out or perhaps going to find the man himself. Either way Nola decided to just stay where she was hoping she didn’t have to wait too long to see her good friend.

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Herbert strolled down the streets of New York. He's was not quite sure what caused him to make the flight all the way back to the big apple, maybe he was feeling reminiscent about the old days now that Godfather Lilith was gone. Either way, before long he found himself on the old strut noticing everything that was different and everything that stayed the same. The Whores still stood on the corner and the buildings were in the same place but the shops inside them were different now. He knew there were new leaders taking the reigns around here. He smiled thinking of the days when he was a new made man, slapping around bar owners that didn't want to pay up their fair share to the big boss. Why, He remembered one particular time when he had to damn near beat the life out of one dead beat before his wife came running out with their money and more so. He never understood why they didn't just get the picture to begin with, would have made life easier for everyone. 

Herbert stopped cold in his tracks. He had come across that indiscreet door on the deuce that he had entered so many times before. He hadn't been in here since his crew was in New York but this used to be their main HQ. Pausing for a moment an taking a big inhale he decidedly walked in for the first time in the better part of a decade. 

Upon entering the first thing he noticed was that the décor was the same. For a moment he thought he was back in the old days but then he realized that the faces were different. Everyone looked up as he entered, no doubt wondering who he was. It didn't take a long look though before they were able to tell he was a member of this thing of ours and, despite not knowing him, they looked back down and went back to their business. Herbert walked up to the bar and nodded to the bar tender at a bottle of whiskey. The bartender grabbed a shot glass and pored it as Herbert answered the question the bartender didn't want to ask. 

"This used to be my beat. You remember the crew Deuce Street that moved to Chicago." The bartender nodded. "Yeah, I'm Herbert. Just figured I'd check out my old hang one last time." 

The bartender nodded an said "It's on the house" 

"Thank you." Said Herbert, and he sat, and drank. He was there for hours before he decided it was enough of the past, time to go home. 

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When the phone rang, I was so buried underneath paperwork, that my first thought was to unplug it then throw it out the twenty fourth floor window. Deciding that might not end the best way for anyone walking the streets below at the moment, I begrudgingly picked up the receiver, “What? And this had better be a goddamned good reason for calling up here!...Oh, well why didn’t you lead with that? I’ll be right down.”

I put the phone down with a smile, immediately tossing my pen onto the desk as I pushed away from it. That might have been one of the best phone calls that I’ve gotten in a while. When things start getting hectic around here, and they always end up that way, it’s far to easy to lose connections. A tragic component of this whole mess. Straightening my tie, I waited a moment for the elevator to ding open before stepping on and pressing the lobby button.

It was damn near impossible to hide my smile as I hit the lobby, “Magnolia! What brings you to this neck of the woods? Only good news I hope.” 

I weaved through her guards, sidestepping here and there before I wrapped her in a welcoming hug, “God it’s good to see you! Everything ok?”

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A smile lite up on Nola's face as she spotted Dick making his way towards her. He just had one of those personalities that was contagious, at least to her that was the case. Welcoming the embrace and matching his hug, Nola held onto it for a moment before releasing it.

"Oh yeah, everything is perfectly good."

She gave him a smile before taking a small step back. Just enough to give the both of them some space but not enough to indicate that she was uncomfortable in any sort of way. Which she wasn't mind you....

"I was sitting at my desk a bit ago when it dawned on me. Minus a simple phone call when you got the nod to run your own show, I had not come over to properly congratulate you. Plus, it's been forever since we have actually seen each other. Needless to say it was time to rectify that, hence why I'm here."

She gave the lobby a quick look over, a gaze of which included a lot of big bodies... too many bodies... with a sigh Nola looked over her shoulder towards one of her guards. "You guys can wait outside, I need some damn space." Turning herself back towards Dick, Nola could see her men clearing out.

"So... gonna show me around or are we just gonna stand here in the lobby?" She gave him a bit of a smirk and took a step past him, not really giving him the choice in the matter.

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“Well, it’s good to see you Magnolia and of course, I’ll give you the grand tour.” I gave a small bow as I extended an arm forward, “The place cost me a pretty penny but truthfully,” I gave a glance back at some of the security officers that were dressed in plain clothes, mingling with others in the lobby, “Most of that was on security. Can never be too careful these days.” I shrugged lightly as I pressed the elevator button. “There’s a few floors of hotel rooms but after that, all my space and all quiet. Don’t get much of that these days, that’s for sure.”

I offered her my hand as I stepped into the elevator, “How are things going in the rest of the city? Or the rest of the country for that matter. Admittedly, I haven’t been able to get out of Manhattan much lately.”

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