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Who: Marcus, Open to allies
When: Late morning
Where: Essex Mountain Sanatorium grounds

Marcus McGovern was restless and unhappy. He had every reason in the world to be happy. He'd woken up that morning when his beautiful baby girl had been laid on the sunny pillow beside him. He'd shared a pleasant breakfast with his pack, heard their stories, smiled at their jokes. He had spent an hour working beside them, erecting a crumbled wall. Life was good.

And yet it felt wrong.

He'd excused himself from the work to take a walk. He'd been doing this quite a bit of late, slipping away from his fellows and enjoying the company of only himself. Surely Chelsea had noticed. The time they spent together was the same as it had always been, he had the same smiles, and the same care for her. But when he didn't think she was looking, there was visual evidence that all was not right.

Not one to talk out his feelings, he took these walks. Wandering under the thick trees that dotted the grounds. Sometimes he would talk to them, ask what he should do, but on this topic they remained frustratingly silent. They were telling him, he knew, to find the answer inside himself.

He knew the answer. It was simple. Forget safety, forget trying to build eden. War was brewing, and he needed to fight. He needed to lead the charge with his pack at his side, and reclaim the world that belonged to all the people of the world.

Black leather boots that had seen hundreds of mountain trails crunched over dewy grass and the last few leaves from the previous autumn. His hands were in his pockets and a cigarette dangled from his lip. He had all but given up the habit, now only indulging when he knew he'd be completely alone. He normally wouldn't smoke on a walk such as this, as it dulls the nose to the delightful smells of nature. Unfortunately, the breeze blowing in from the coast smelled like the city that lay between him and the ocean, so tobacco smoke was a pleasant alternative to smog.

The sun was shining from a watery blue sky, bringing the illusion of warmth to the black fabric he so favored. Within a few short weeks, he could lose the jacket entirely and maybe get some color.

His path took him up a rise to a small outcropping of stone that faced the city in the distance. He came to a stop here and stood, watching the city sparkle in the morning sunlight. It was beautiful, he had to admit. He hated the city and everything it stood for. It was crowded, smelly, and busy. It was a testament to mankind's ingenuity and strength. The best and the brightest were there, living in their glass towers, dictating how the world should run from comfortable chairs. That was precisely what was wrong with the world. People living in their version of Oz, separated from the truly beautiful things in the world, claiming that they knew what was best. When usually they just made things worse.

And yet, the city was in peril. The world was in peril. Not from stupidity, but from those who desired to take advantage of stupidity. And Marcus found himself wanting to save the steel and glass jungle below him, to protect every innocent life within its borders. Save them from themselves, and save them from the forces that desired only to enslave and kill.

He wasn't doing a very good job of that, was he? Here he was, in a peaceful sanctuary, leading his band of refugees, waiting for someone else to start the battle.

And that was the core of his frustration.

He sighed and dropped the cigarette long enough to crush it with the heel of his boot. He knelt to pick up the butt and stick it into his pocket, he had never in his life left a cigarette on the ground. As he rose he caught a glint of light in the distance. A car. Headed this way?

Well. That would make for a nice change of pace.


( 43 comments — Leave a comment )
Mar. 23rd, 2009 10:31 pm (UTC)
Mark was driving the car, eyes on the trail, ready for anything. On the one hand, this could be a very bad idea. There were wolves up here in the wilderness, or so the stories went, from allies and mysterious helping hands and others who'd suggested that they might need a hand. Werewolves, specifically. Everything Mark knew about werewolves came from the movies and the books, and in most cases, they were at least somewhat crazy and bloodthirsty, at least when the moon was full, and almost always had to be put down at the movie's climax. If they thought, even for a moment, that he was not someone to be trusted, Mark had no illusions as to whether they were capable of killing him. The fact that they were living in isolation and seclusion could only help to make them - and him - more nervous.

On the other hand, perhaps they were really nice people, and perhaps the Guardians were watching him. He had been careful -- as careful as he could be -- but all it took was one bad day, one overzealous Guardian watching from above, to figure out that something was wrong and to start tracing his life, to realize that Mark was up to no good. And if such were the case, and they were keeping tabs on him, this would be very bad for anyone he tried to come in contact with.

Still, the words of that strange, funny little man stuck in his head like a pebble in his shoe. You were so close... so close that you deserve a second chance. Mark was good at pretending to forget things, but his memory was sharper than he let on, and as he drove, he replayed the conversation in his mind, reflecting. Have you any idea what you put in motion at Columbia? Any idea? "Not nearly enough," he muttered. The turn was coming up - supposedly, shortly afterwards, he'd have to walk.

"Mark," he said, glancing up at his reflection in the mirror, "these people are on your side. They just don't know it yet, and it's your job to convince them. Now make us proud."
Mar. 23rd, 2009 10:43 pm (UTC)
He shielded his eyes from the sunshine to study the car in the distance. It was clearly headed this way, but not one he recognized. That was distressing.

"Don't do anything yet," he said to no one in particular, or so it would appear. He expected to be heard by two unseen parties, "Let me handle things. Probably someone wanting to take pictures of the place."

He tried to make himself believe that. This could be the first scouting party, the first sign that they weren't so safe here. He knew he was being ridiculous. If the Guardians knew they were there, they wouldn't scout. They'd send in the nukes and finish the werewolf problem once and for all.

He shook his doubts off and headed down the slope toward the gate he knew this car would encounter before it could enter the grounds.

Marcus thought fast, debating between standing back and observing and intercepting the driver before they got too close. He settled for the latter. The buildings looked trashed enough on the outside, but all the people wandering around was pretty suspicious.

He emerged from the treeline and waved his arm over his head, praying he wasn't about to get shot. "Hey, private property, town's that way." He pointed back down the hill.
Mar. 23rd, 2009 10:57 pm (UTC)
Well. Here goes nothing.

Mark nodded to the approaching figure, making a point to make sure his hands were both clearly visible. He'd seen too many cop shows to assume that people wouldn't shoot first if they thought someone might be going for a weapon.

"I'm looking for a guy who lives out here somewhere," he said calmly. "Guy by the name of Marcus. Don't know his last name, though."

Well, that wasn't confidence-inspiring, was it? he thought. Now you sound like either a narc or that prophet boy.

"Fellow by the name of Alex said I might find him out here ... do you happen to know where he lives?"
Mar. 23rd, 2009 11:05 pm (UTC)
At the sound of his own name, he bit back a growl. So much for the theory that this guy was an innocent. He flicked his eyes up toward the building, wondering if the others had any idea that something was amiss.

He relaxed a little, though, when the fellow mentioned Alex. It wasn't the magic word in trust, but it was a start.

"I've heard of him. But why would he want to see you?"
Mar. 23rd, 2009 11:15 pm (UTC)
"No idea if he would. But if I can't find him, I'll never know," Mark said. "And if you've heard of him, he's probably around here. Is there a way I can ask if he's open to visitors right now?"
Mar. 23rd, 2009 11:19 pm (UTC)
He approached the car and placed his hands on the windowsill, leaning down to take a good taste of the air inside the vehicle. He wasn't sure what he was looking for, he certainly wouldn't be able to smell recording devices. Though, the guy smelled human. That was a good sign.

"I suppose what I'm asking is, who are you, and why do you want to see him? We're not exactly in a position to be seeing guests, as I'm sure you know. If you have something he'd like to hear, I know he'd consider it."
Mar. 24th, 2009 12:42 am (UTC)
"Okay." Deep breath. "If you're the werewolves hiding from the crazies with the silver knives, I'm the guy behind the Columbia protests." That wasn't so hard, now was it? "I suspect we both have grudges."
Mar. 24th, 2009 05:38 am (UTC)
Marcus let out the breath he'd been holding and rocked back on his heels, hands still on the car. He glanced around the woods with a half smile. The breeze, now scented with wolf musk, told him that they were surrounded. Likely seven or eight wolves in a loose circle around the vehicle.

"You are, huh? Then I suppose I could hear what you have to say." He stepped back from the car and glanced further up the road. The closest building was one of the pavilions, a structure they hadn't touched yet. No need to show how far they'd come in rebuilding the place. Not yet.

He pointed. "Drive on up there. I'll be along in a minute."

He hoped Veronica was close at hand, and in a shape that allowed her to speak. There were things to discuss.
Mar. 24th, 2009 09:58 pm (UTC)
Mark nodded, and lowered his hands back down to put the car in gear again - nice and slowly. There wasn't any abrupt psychotic violence about to happen, but he was still skittish about things like making sudden movements in front of people that might well be able to kill him on accident, let alone on purpose. He hadn't missed the 'I' in Marcus's words, but he wasn't about to make any assumptions. He was at least moderately sure they weren't either. Once the locked gate had been cleared, he drove along up to the structure, deeper into the belly of the beast, as it were.
Mar. 24th, 2009 10:09 pm (UTC)
Marcus watched the car pull away and peered around the woods. "Roni?" He called.

The blonde stepped from behind a tree. Her hands were in her coat pockets and she was frowning. "I don't like this," she said.

Marcus shook his head and started up the hill. "I don't, either. I'm going to talk to him alone, but keep up the guard duty. This could go south fast."

He jogged the way up the hill, hearing rather than seeing the wolves in the undergrowth on either side of him, scrambling ahead to take up positions around the pavilion.

He approached the building's entrance, taking a calming breath. Here goes nothing.
Mar. 24th, 2009 10:17 pm (UTC)
If Mark had any idea of the amount of preparation going on around him, he certainly didn't show it - putting the car in park and getting out as though this was merely a social call to an old man in the woods regarding the continuation of his newspaper subscription. He waited inside, doing his best to emulate a sense of preternatural calm, though frankly, he was nervous, and the fact that he was reasonably sure any sort of supernatural being worth its garlic salt would be able to tell somehow wasn't really helping.

"So, hi," he began, as Marcus entered. "My name is Mark..." He preferred pseudonyms, but this was probably a bad time to get coy.
Mar. 24th, 2009 10:24 pm (UTC)
He smiled his very best business like smile. Nothing more serious than the weather. He checked the guy's hand, pure habit, before extending his own. "I'm Marcus." A polite nod.

"Forgive any perceived hostilities." Though he was feeling pretty hostile. "We don't get many visitors."

He leaned against a wall, arms folded. "So. Tell your tale."
Mar. 24th, 2009 11:29 pm (UTC)
Mark shook the offered hand. Let's see, where to begin.

"Well, sir. I got my start being interested in politics because I thought maybe some things were worth protesting and some voices needed to be heard.

Turns out that isn't really enough, at least not by itself. Not by a long shot.

I'm trying to find some people. And honestly, I don't know much more about why than what a crazy-sounding fellow told me. One name is obvious - a guy by the name of Valentine Varner. You might have heard of him." The last sentence was mildly sarcasm-tinged and almost bitter, but it was gone in a moment. "There are others I don't know yet. This Alex guy said I need to find him, but I haven't heard from him in a while. These days, that could mean anything. I'm looking for people and in most cases, I'm not sure why. Crazy, huh?

Then again, you're supposedly a living, breathing, honest-to-goodness werewolf, and I didn't have any delivery confirmation on the reality of things like that until a couple of weeks ago. I'm doing my best to catch up, though."

Mark gave Marcus a guarded look. "But this problem is too big for me to do much about, at least by myself. Standing around and chanting isn't going to make this better, and sitting back and waiting for someone else to step up and lead the charge isn't either. And I don't even know entirely how bad things really are, and I know it. So I need to find out more, and I need to find out who's an ally or not before things break down entirely.

And that's my tale," he concluded, taking a deep breath. "I'm just an average guy who thinks there's a way to save the world from the Guardians, and I want to find out how."

Mar. 25th, 2009 05:18 am (UTC)
Marcus listened with a mildly interested expression, one eyebrow slightly cocked, and his arms folded loosely over his chest. When Mark mentioned Valentine, Marcus nodded his recognition. No need to bring up the fact that he knew the boy's uncle quite well.

When Mark finished talking, Marcus let his hands fall and slide into his pockets. "I like your thinking. I like it a lot. That's quite a bit like what I've been trying to do here. It's not much, mostly we're just keeping ourselves alive. But we want more, we want to fight."

He sighed. "Unfortunately, there's not a lot we can do when we're in hiding. I'm sure they're out there looking for us. We have a few allies in the city, but I haven't heard from them in some time."

He pushed away from the wall to pace to the window. "I have a family to keep safe, and I will do anything to do that." He turned around again. "What can I do to help?"
Mar. 25th, 2009 05:27 am (UTC)
"And in the opposite direction - what can I do to help -you- out?" Mark asked. "But what I want to do is two things. Two very big things. One is to make the Columbia protest look like a match next to the fury of the sun. The other is to stab the Guardians right in the eye." He grinned slightly.
Mar. 25th, 2009 05:33 am (UTC)
"I'm not sure what can be done for us. We've got outside help, and we're fairly self-sufficient in matters he can't cover."

He placed his hands on the windowsill behind him and leaned back, ankles crossed. "Both plans sound like something I'd enjoy getting in on. I'm sick and tired of sitting around here, twiddling my thumbs and waiting for someone to save the world. Of course, I need to talk to the others, but I'm sure they'd all agree. We're at your disposal."
Mar. 25th, 2009 06:04 am (UTC)
Mark smiled. "Well, then... how about we go over the plans, and then you and they can discuss just how crazy I am for suggesting them?"
Mar. 25th, 2009 06:09 am (UTC)
"We've had some pretty crazy ideas over the last couple months, so have no fear," he said with a quiet laugh.

He pointed to some seats along the wall. "I feel the need to sit for a spell while I listen to your ideas."
Mar. 25th, 2009 11:31 pm (UTC)
"Okay." Mark settled into a seat, and started to talk again.

"First things first. You know the 2012 Olympics are held here in New York City, right?" Without really waiting for an answer, he continued, "And the Olympics has always been an event watched by the world. This time's no different. The media feed will be broadcast from a central location and transmitted all over the globe. So if you have to send a message to the world, what better place and time to do it?" He smiled. "Of course, to do that, first you need a message. Something that'll make reality television look pale in comparison. Something to prove your point - about the Guardians, about the world, about everything."

He cracked his knuckles. "The hard part, of course, is how do you successfully hijack a worldwide satellite feed without being arrested or executed, ideally. The simplest method would be through infiltration - find a way to get someone hired to work there. The classic janitor, or a technician or something. We have time to plan, so the sooner we work out what specifically we're going to do and where, the better."
Mar. 25th, 2009 11:43 pm (UTC)
He sat back, tapping his lip as he considered. "Sounds like a great plan. Risky, but good. Unfortunately, my people can't exactly help with that part of the plan."

He pulled out a cigarette, but did not light it. He twirled it in his fingers as he thought. "However, I would be more than willing to help in the planning, and...ah.. pre production. I assume it is a video you wish to broadcast?"
Mar. 25th, 2009 11:47 pm (UTC)
"Of course. And, not to put too fine a point on it, but filming such a thing in the middle of New York City is a bad idea in general. Plus, I'm sure you have a lot of stories to tell. Maybe even a few things you'd like to tell the Guardians personally." Mark nodded. "That's not the risky plan."
Mar. 25th, 2009 11:51 pm (UTC)
"Well, we have plenty of locations here. Tunnels and nondescript, run down rooms that probably wouldn't be recognizable by the general populace. Don't want them tracking us down because someone recognized a bit of graffiti. I would have to talk to the others, of course." He paused, "Wait... what is the risky plan, then?"
Mar. 25th, 2009 11:55 pm (UTC)
Mark smiled slightly. "You know how New York City has cameras all over town, right? Cameras and microphones, whether in businesses, in the open, or hidden from sight? It's enough to make a fellow very nervous about what he does in public.

Now what if I told you I found out where those cameras plug into?"
Mar. 26th, 2009 12:02 am (UTC)
Both eyebrows shot up and he stuck the end of the cigarette behind his ear. "I would be very, very interested to learn what you know. And how we might use this to avoid future troubles."
Mar. 26th, 2009 12:34 am (UTC)
Mark grinned, almost sheepishly. "Ever hear of something called Cautela? It's technically a Homeland Security project, but the Guardians use it too. Its intended purpose is to recognize and track known terrorists and criminals using surveillance cameras, in collaboration with other security measures. Scary stuff. But it relies very heavily on having a big, expensive bank of computers to handle all of that data. It also relies on having good surveillance equipment in place, and it relies on maintaining a short list of suspects, unless you're guarding a very small space. In theory, they could look for every person wanted in the state of New York, if the system worked as smoothly as it sounds. You'll notice we still have street crime in New York City."

He stretched slightly. "The reason for this is simple. The computers can't really watch everyone all the time. They can look for specific people, sure. If they knew they were supposed to be looking for you, they would. If you went back into town, they'd know you were in the area the moment you stopped near a traffic camera. Unless, of course, you wore a mask, or covered your face in some way. You'd have to cover the entire face, though, to be sure.

If they think you might be someone, but the computer can't really tell, they sometimes hire data miners to look at the data and see if it fits the pattern. Say someone was tracked entering a building wearing a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles mask, and leaves without the mask. As far as surveillance can tell, the person must've just appeared there. So they get some people to look at the data, see if they can figure out how that person got there. Does he have the same shirt as the guy who entered earlier wearing the mask? Same body type? That sort of thing. That's sort of how I found out how the system works -- I mean, I knew about it, sort of, but it's pretty impressive, in a terrifying sort of way. I got to see it working."
Mar. 26th, 2009 12:41 am (UTC)
Marcus let out a low whistle, absorbing. "Fuck, man. I'm glad no one's been back in lately. I hope you're going to tell me your master plan to take this system out, because otherwise it just fills me with unhappy feelings."
Mar. 26th, 2009 01:25 am (UTC)
"That's the beauty and the bad of it. The entire system is centralized - so that it's as secure as possible from outside intrusion." Mark chuckled. "That's bad in that it's in a very secure location - the sub-basement of Freedom Tower. Physically, it's difficult to get to... especially if you don't happen to work at Freedom Tower. Remotely, there are definitely ways in - those data feeds have to get in somehow, and law enforcement and Guardians have to be able to access the system without necessarily sitting in front of it. But destroying the data on the servers will take them out of business for only a short amount of time. Destroying the actual equipment may take them out for much longer, especially since if it's clear their location is no longer secure, they'll have to relocate - which will take time and funding. Corrupting the data long enough for it to ruin any chance of backing things up, and then destroying the servers, would be the best bet at ensuring that the system stays down as long as possible. And while it's out of business, Big Brother is blind and deaf and working only by feel.

... Only problem is, I don't have the manpower to do it by force just yet, or the hacking skill to do it by, well, hacking. So it's a wonderful idea, but I'm still shopping to try to find people who can help pull it off.

Even if I can't do that, there is one thing I can do if I get access to the system again - one way or another - and that's try to offload the directory of monitored locations. It's much easier to avoid Big Brother if you know what he can actually see and hear. And having that would come in awfully handy for tracking down the cameras and smashing them while they're out of service...

So, yeah. Those are my crazy plans. Scream loud enough for the world to hear, and stab the Guardians in their electronic eyes. And I can't really guarantee that either of them will work out - but I need help. And not just with the technical or social aspects. There will probably be violence getting in and getting out of this. There will be fighting and bloodshed. And I'd much rather it be the Guardians' blood than mine."

Mark sighed, and rubbed his forehead. "So that's why I'm here. I am engaged in high treason against the Guardians, and thus effectively the United States government, with all means available to me. Can I count you in?"
Mar. 26th, 2009 01:33 am (UTC)
He rubbed his forehead with the tips of his fingers, trying to sort out the babble. He was a concise man, really.

"Lofty goals. I have manpower galore up here, fifty men and women who are bored out of their skulls. We're not technically skilled, really, mostly teachers and such. We have one mechanic, and a doctor or two.

"I know for a fact that you can count me in, and I'm almost sure you can count them in. In theory, I could just tell them what's going to happen, but I won't. Not when they could be laying down their lives if things go wrong.

"One benefit from using us is that we're strong, and we're hardy. We're also fairly good at getting into smallish spaces. Dress us up like stray dogs and we can go most anywhere."
Mar. 26th, 2009 01:53 am (UTC)
Mark nodded. "Anything any of you wants to do to help would be appreciated, and I'll gladly help with any ideas you want help with. And if they want to meet me and come to their own judgment, they're welcome to."

After pondering for a moment, he added, "What sort of things did they teach?"
Mar. 26th, 2009 02:01 am (UTC)
"Yes, meeting them all would be a good thing." He spared a quick glance out the window, knowing some were still out there, surely listening in.

"High school teachers. I taught art, for example. We have a few math, science, home-ec, and so on...no gym teachers, though."
Mar. 26th, 2009 02:15 am (UTC)
"Nothing wrong with having knowledge," Mark said, with a slight grin. "Even if it seems to be a threatening trait these days. Me, I'm an office worker. Though at the rate I'm going, that's going to become irrelevant very, very quickly."
Mar. 26th, 2009 02:24 am (UTC)
"Well, I hope you end up a hero, rather than a martyr. I hope we all do. But, the latter doesn't sound so frightening if the sun rises the next day on a free world."

He offered a half smile. "I have a lot of time to think, you'll have to forgive me getting philosophical. Did you want to talk to them today, or return later?"
Mar. 26th, 2009 03:05 am (UTC)
"I've got some time," Mark said, "if they want to talk - but if you think it'd be better done later, I can come back. S'up to you guys."
Mar. 26th, 2009 03:08 am (UTC)
"Now is fine, while everything's fresh. As long as you don't mind telling your tale again."

He rose from his seat and turned to the window he pointed toward the main buildings, and Veronica took off running, presumably to round everyone up.
Mar. 26th, 2009 03:12 am (UTC)
Mark nodded. "Not a problem." He settled back against the wall, eyes half-closing. The hard part probably wasn't over yet, but it still felt a little easier now.
Mar. 26th, 2009 03:22 am (UTC)
This was the thing about Veronica that he liked best. He rarely had to tell her what was on his mind, she often knew. Knowing her, she would gather up everyone she could, prime them of the situation, and bring them back.

In the meantime, Marcus walked away from Mark to light his cigarette at last. Suck it down as fast as possible before the others arrived, he was going to need the nicotine.

He glanced out the window after a few silent moments, and saw the crowd headed down the hill. He dropped the cigarette and crushed it under his heel. "Showtime."
Mar. 26th, 2009 03:37 am (UTC)
Mark got to his feet, and peered in the general direction of the window, more out of curiosity than anything else.
Mar. 26th, 2009 03:51 am (UTC)
There were roughly forty-three wolves that now filed into the structure. He noted Chelsea was absent, but didn't blame her. He wasn't entirely keen on having Molly come to this gathering.

Marcus resisted the urge to put his hands in his pockets. Wolves were all about body language, after all.

"This is Mark," he said with a gesture toward the new guy, "He has some ideas that may make our time here a little more productive."
Mar. 26th, 2009 04:12 am (UTC)
"Hey, guys. I'm the crazy guy from town who wants to do some really big things." Mark grinned slightly. "The crazy guy who's here because a prophet told me to. One of the guys who set up the Columbia protest. One of the guys who wants to broadcast a message to the world, one that can't be ignored or trivialized this time. One of the guys that wants to smash the electronic eyes that are the reason you can't go back into town without being arrested minutes or hours later. I'm Mark. Any questions?"
Mar. 26th, 2009 04:17 am (UTC)
Marcus smirked and leaned back against a wall. "Basically, he wants to help us, and he's asking for help. It will be dangerous, but hopefully it'll make a difference."

He briefly explained the plans as he knew them, the after-school special about how werewolves are your friends, and the possibility of physically taking out the surveillance.

A few of them had heard this before, as they had been outside, and nodded their immediate agreement.

One spoke, a middle-aged man who had once been an economics teacher. "How can we trust you?"
Mar. 26th, 2009 04:33 am (UTC)
Mark grinned wryly. "Because you guys could get me killed in five minutes if you had a tape recorder and mailed a recording of what I said to any Friend of the Guardian station in town. Or two minutes, if you all decided to tear me apart on the spot instead of bothering with the subterfuge.

In turn, I could be, directly or indirectly, responsible for them finding you. Anything could. Anything you purchase, anything you steal, might have a tracking device on it. But if you're going to get paranoid to the point where you tear apart everything to look for the bugs, including people... then you've become exactly what they want.

We've both got a lot to lose by not working together where we can."
Mar. 26th, 2009 04:40 am (UTC)
The crowd stayed quiet after this. In all reality, they were scared and restless. They wanted to be told what to do, and they wanted a savior to come down and lead them to freedom. Maybe this wordy fellow wasn't that savior, but he was a start.

They all looked to their leader, who was growing rather uncomfortable. Marcus was in charge, and he knew that they would all follow him no matter what, but this idea unnerved him.

"I want you all to have a choice," he said after a moment, "I intend to help this man, but if any one of you does not want to, then you are free to stay back. You will not lose your place among us. We will still be family."

A voice piped up with "I'm in." Then another, and then a chorus. Marcus smiled and held up a hand.

"Okay, okay. Anyone not in?"


"Looks like we're yours," he said to Mark.
Mar. 26th, 2009 04:51 am (UTC)
Mark smiled. "Alright. Now it's not such a crazy idea. We've got a roomful of educators to make it smarter, and a roomful of friends to hold it up. Let's start with what you want to tell the world..."
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