[Johnny sits on the bed of his small bedroom, fingers curled loosely around a small radio on his knee. It spits with static, a trophy of one of the fourth-corrupted areas. It hasn't said anything once he'd taken it out of the area, but he still holds it like a hand grenade at arms length. When he's ready, he brings it up to his mouth and speaks.]
I don't know if you're listening. But I've had a talk with one of your followers. He said you respond to people. I want to know something. I've heard a lot about you, and the Fog God. The fight going on right now. I couldn't care less about what happened to the park, or the trees, or whatever. A couple of dead plants are nothing. These things happen. What I do want to know, is how you knew all that about me.
[His grip tightens around the radio.]
I can't say that I'm happy about it. In fact, I'm downright snecking pissed. But...
I want to know more. About exactly how powerful you are. I don't care about going back. I've made enough mistakes there. They're better off without me. And I couldn't care less about the changes that have been happening to me. I've always been a killer. But what I don't like is the idea of being a killer for the sick amusement of some snecking, jumped up "god". I've always done it for a purpose. A job, for money, for the defenceless, sure. Never my own survival. Maybe one day I could have stopped. Unlikely, but there was still a chance. And now I can't.
[He falls silent, and it's a long time before he speaks up again.]
I just fought in a war for revenge, for the crimes that have been perpetrated against mutants. You know this. All my life, I've been fighting for some cause or another, and I've been hurt for it, my friends and comrades have died for it. I'm tired. But I can feel it calling to me again, and I don't know if I can muster up the energy to do it all over again. Whether it's worth it.
[Another pause, but this time shorter.]
Whatever this Fog thing is, they're not a God. They're just powerful. And I need to know if you can take her. And I need to know what will happen if you do. And I can't say that I like you, but fighting is all I can do. It's all I have to offer to anyone. I'll never worship you, but if your answer is good enough, we'll see if you can't contract this old dog.
[He waits a beat, then two. He drops the radio onto the floor with a clatter, and lets it lie there.]
no subject
I don't know if you're listening. But I've had a talk with one of your followers. He said you respond to people. I want to know something. I've heard a lot about you, and the Fog God. The fight going on right now. I couldn't care less about what happened to the park, or the trees, or whatever. A couple of dead plants are nothing. These things happen. What I do want to know, is how you knew all that about me.
[His grip tightens around the radio.]
I can't say that I'm happy about it. In fact, I'm downright snecking pissed. But...
I want to know more. About exactly how powerful you are. I don't care about going back. I've made enough mistakes there. They're better off without me. And I couldn't care less about the changes that have been happening to me. I've always been a killer. But what I don't like is the idea of being a killer for the sick amusement of some snecking, jumped up "god". I've always done it for a purpose. A job, for money, for the defenceless, sure. Never my own survival. Maybe one day I could have stopped. Unlikely, but there was still a chance. And now I can't.
[He falls silent, and it's a long time before he speaks up again.]
I just fought in a war for revenge, for the crimes that have been perpetrated against mutants. You know this. All my life, I've been fighting for some cause or another, and I've been hurt for it, my friends and comrades have died for it. I'm tired. But I can feel it calling to me again, and I don't know if I can muster up the energy to do it all over again. Whether it's worth it.
[Another pause, but this time shorter.]
Whatever this Fog thing is, they're not a God. They're just powerful. And I need to know if you can take her. And I need to know what will happen if you do. And I can't say that I like you, but fighting is all I can do. It's all I have to offer to anyone. I'll never worship you, but if your answer is good enough, we'll see if you can't contract this old dog.
[He waits a beat, then two. He drops the radio onto the floor with a clatter, and lets it lie there.]
That's all.