(Clara Mass)
I was once a mercenary and than a heroine. People liked me than but this is now. Hatred looms over my head but don't they know of my numerous troubles?
Yesterday
She stands before a few hundred. Flashing lightly nearly blind violet eyes. Yet, the bones know to remain still. And the muscles have yet to quiver. On this evening of all hours; Zeraz Tower casts a foreboding shadow. Confidence is incapable of withering. Sealed cherry flavored lips reek of untold truths. Whispers scatter like wildfire. Unable to delay the inevitable the matron of thee Zeraz legacy adjusts the microphone while her eyes remain in lock with the most fearsome of American journalism.
"Society is dying. In the past year our governments have been overtaken by the meta-human gene. Countries that once flourished now crumble beneath the heels of the untrustworthy. Tenebrasque IN controls nations once believed to be unyielding, New France exists as an outcast to further degrade the developments of other countries in order to prove their own technological superiority, all the while Utopia sits in its little corner forced to become the epicenter of the newest incarnation of a fiendish attempt at regaining power in this world we live in. Chaos will no doubt ensue as the imps of our native lands act unnecessarily violent. I see no need for this. This registration act's eventual passing is not the issue we should not be worrying about. It is a topic that should not be overly discussed. It is a sample matter of international security that'll keep the average superhuman in check. What baffles me is the lack of conversation pertaining to the likes of Eternal Chaos, Morgaine de Bourbon, and Maya Lopez. We fear one, ignore the other, and let the blond write a meaningful bill but still we know nothing of them. Have we regressed to the point where we submit to fancy costumes? What happened to the swagger and charisma that America once had? Why are we slipping away and allowing others to do as they please?"
She pauses. Inhaling the cold atmosphere and exhaling the worries within the soul.
"I'm not trying to undermine this act. I wholeheartedly support it but I feel as though we've lost our backbone. It's taken so long for us to get back on our feet but still we watch these fights between costumes as if its a Michael Bay trilogy. Why do we wait for a smart idea when our brains should be thinking without the aid of a telepath? It seems whenever I talk, these empty faces are unable to retort. I speak the truth. It isn't our choices that distinguish who we are. It's our commitment to them. Within the next few hours, Zeraz Industries will be implementing rescue centers in the outskirts of these isolated countries. These efforts will be protected by the Sector Eleven agency in order to prevent further bloodshed in this world."
Silence among these mouths. Astonished by her brassiness. How can she speak so openly, is she not afraid of the consequences? Sadly, she is unable to emote a care for such hypothetical after effects. Her stance remains solid. Her honesty itself pierces into the minds of various.
"Doubt is a disease. It infects the mind, creating a mistrust of people's motives and one's own perceptions. Doubt has the ability to call into question everything you've ever believed about some.....and reinforce the darkest suspicions of our own inner circles. These new countries have infected us but one of the three hopes to unite us. I say we allow the act but we must be cautious of their wordings. Our trust can be manipulated and looking the other way will only result in our downfall. I ask my fellow Americans to stand up for you believe in, voice your opinions, disagree if you must, but please do not back down! Support registration if you want accountability! State your opinions if you want equality! Prevent the growth of the wicked and untrustworthy! My name is Clarice Michelle Zeraz. Any questions?"
Of all my convictions, some see an innocent victim. Others see evil incarnate getting exactly what she deserves.
Today Begins...
Her thoughts are dedicated to a happy existence. Running across an empty field, arm in arm with her two favorite men. An adoring husband and a carefree living son. The taste of freedom excites the nervous system while the sight of happiness draws out sweat from a supposedly cold body. As Sean relaxes among sunflowers, Michael laughs as Clarice stumbles awkwardly. She falls into his arms willingly letting go of any worries and embracing his love. She's at peace. Away from the conflicts of yesterday. Their lips touch but this is all a lie. She is somewhere else as well.
Eyes open as Egyptian sheets are pulled off her bear body. Wrapping it around her voluptuous frame, Clarice attentively watches the movement a well-known player. She shares this bed with Jean Luc LeBeau, the originator of all things tactical. He too took a liking to the registration act, only because it was his idea first. Ever since than, countless nobodies have tried and failed at copying his signature originality. There was much she did not know of his plans. All she knew was that the Order of Sancta Camisa was returning and he called upon the aid of the Zeraz bloodline. Helping him would ensure her families safety in the aftermath of the oncoming complications.
He was contacting the leader of Utopia, but why? "Miss Lopez, I know dat dee last time we....met, twas a bit strenuous to say dee least. However a greater concern now loams and I believe you and I can come to a mutual beneficial understanding. But first dings first. I demand dee release of one Cassidy O'Rourke, aka Dark Huntress, alias Mercy....." His mentioning alone of the wretched Cassidy was enough for the redheaded mystery to hop off the silky bedding.
"Jean...whatever you have planned there is one thing you must know. I will not be rescuing the Dark Huntress. That handicapped hussy murdered me and I refuse to allow her place in your heart to dictate me as well. There is no friendship between her and I. If there is anything else I can do..please do contact me. Until than I have a fitting for a crown, meant only for a Queen. And as a gift for allowing my entry into this marvelous home, know that Tenebrasque IN and its forces will not interfere in whatever you have set into motion." She said, disappearing into the shadows. Touching her temples, her abilities of telepathy extend through these barriers.
Eternal Chaos, it seems after the events of the Ruin Kingdom...my predictions were indeed correct. Our enemies will soon wage war against one another. It seems our dearest Cassidy has invoked an international incident, how unexpectedly predicted. Regardless have no fears because once this is all over...one enemy will fall and our rule will have one less opponent to think about. As for the speech yesterday, I apologize, but a lady of my stature has to uphold to certain standards. Blinking her eyes twice, Clarice switches channels to her young nephew who so happens to live in Utopia.
Closure, its me Clarice. I'm not sure what's exactly going on but it seems our paths will soon cross. Be the hero you are and protect Utopia's citizens at all costs. If we are to promote your image as a hero, entrepreneur, and war relief activist, the less fatalities the better. If anything goes wary...Gambler has ensured me your amnesty from whatever may happen. What I'm doing may come off as shady by I owe this man a favor. They will call me a whore, a liar, a manipulator, but none of this is true. Blood is thicker than water. And I just don't want you to think any less of me. I love you Noah with all my being. Family comes first. She spoke, maintaining a observation on her surroundings.
Getting dressed in her black Sector Eleven attire, Clara Mass wraps her curly crimson locks upward. Happily grasping her ebony blade, she returns to the room, eyeing Gambler from head to toe. His physique is something to desire. Part of her hopes to always have him but that is a false hope. Jean is no one's to withhold because Esther still has his heart and she always will. No one can compete with the original woman, everyone else falls in comparison. Clarice knew her place by his side but still she urns for more. A favor indeed by the possibility of power intrigues her curiosity.
"I fear the fitting will have to wait. What must I do? Oh my dearest King of Kings?" She said, licking her lips and pondering what today shall bring.
At the end of the day, I know who I am and what I stand for. Nothing can break the unbreakable. I am the definition of imperfectly perfect. I am Clara Mass.
Log in to comment