[b][i]Ain't Worried 'Bout a Push[/i][/b] [i]"Ill as a hornet, swarming around Your political correct world is incorrect I've found An angry young man is what I became The day that you got full of yourself, and now only you're to blame Push Push me on off of the ledge I'm standing with my toes hanging over the edge Not worried about a push coming down from above I'm ready for you When push comes to shove" - Jackyl[/i] [b]Detroit, Michigan, United States, Alternate Earth[/b] [i]Cody Wolfe had always been partial to history. It was intriguing to see how time had allowed things to pass, and others to survive. Perceptions had changed as time moved on, looking back, things were different. Sometimes he'd stop and think, perhaps they weren't... this was how the world had looked before Hitler, before Stalin and Mussolini. Desperate. Desperation bred violence. Desperation put good men in bad places. But they had passed the subject of the Second World War, and now were firmly entrenched in perhaps the most controversial war to date, Vietnam. Cody had always found a special interest in this war, the black operations, the men who nobody even remembered doing things that technically never happened. His father had been a veteran. He served with some of the finest special forces operators in the jungles of Southeast Asia, and yet, nobody respected these men. He'd seen footage from after the war, men returning home to be spit on... he'd seen the same situation after the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. He remembered his father, about two years before his death, saying how sorry he felt for those men. And so, Cody had developed his respect and protective nature towards such men. He honored their legacies, their work, no matter what others thought. And so, as he sat in his eleventh grade American History course, he listened to the lecture, he took notes like he usually did, and stayed silent in his place at the back of the room, until someone decided to speak up. Another boy, some rich kid, helicopter parents, as far as Cody could tell. He hated people like that. Self-righteous and arrogant.[/i] So why did we send those men over there if we had nothing to gain? They aren't heroes then, they just went out in the jungle to do America's bidding. [i]the other boy said. Cody bit his tongue. If he said something now, he was going to regret it. [/i] If you chose to go, why don't you deserve to get spat on? You chose to go over there, you chose to do all of that. [i]The boy said, after the teacher had offered a rebuttal. That was enough for Cody Wolfe.[/i] How about you go over there, and you watch your friends die all around you? How about you go and live with that fear that every day could be your last? Show some respect for them. Not everyone had a choice to go, not everyone who signed up went over there just to kill people. Some people aren't born with a silver spoon in their mouth. [i]Every word that he uttered came forth laced in venom. Despite his calm demeanor, Cody was absolutely furious. The other boy stopped, and shot him a death glare. This wasn't over, despite what the teacher had said, clearly not happy with either of them, although it was clear that the teacher sided with Cody. The lecture and note-taking was finished with no more adieu, and class was dismissed roughly half an hour later. Heading to lunch, Cody had packed his bags, and headed out of the classroom, blending into the group of people. He didn't have too many friends in that class, or in the school, to be honest. He always figured it better to have three or four really good friends, and have plenty of acquaintances. As he passed row upon row of lockers and brick, he was suddenly hit from the side, slammed in and against the lockers, cutting his cheek on one. Turning, he saw the same kid from earlier, who was clearly upset, not only about losing the argument, but about losing in front of the class. He swung for Cody's face and scored a nice hit, but quickly, Cody ducked and tackled the other kid to the floor. A crowd had begun to gather around, quickly, their phones out, recording it, blocking teachers and security guards. Quickly, Cody got on top of the other boy, pinning him to the ground, and he let loose. Punch after punch connected with the other kid's head, a glasses lense popped out, he broke the kid's nose, busted his lip, and had beat the kid to near-unconsciousness before one of the school resource officers pulled him off. His hands were bloody, blood from his cheek ran down his face, and all he saw was red.... [/i] [b]Hereford, England, 27 Years Later, Alternate Earth[/b] [i]Blow after blow hit the punching bag, and Jackson Wolfe was dropping with sweat. Earbuds in, he pounded away at the punching bag, knuckles wrapped in punching tape, a bandage across his stomach. Training had gone south, Clarkson had caught him with a blade which was supposedly dull. Didn't matter. His mind was too full of rage for it to really matter. Clarkson had given him an outlet, so he thought. Jackson was simply waiting. He'd play the games designed to discourage him. He'd win. The men who killed his father were worth it. They were worth his own blood and his effort. They were not going to roam free for killing a man who had served his country. Anger was a powerful weapon in the right hands... a corrupting ideology for those with nothing left to lose.[/i] [spoiler]Closed. Little background, haven't done a post like this in a long time.[/spoiler]