From the cold depths of the ocean, a figure emerged onto the sandy beaches of Sharkhead Isle. Hunching over, his neck and limbs twitched and spasmed, gripping at his chest as he inhaled a hissing breath. He looked about as Arachnos soldiers peered at him in the distance. The targeting displays within their helmets zoomed in and adjusted resolution before the computer positively identified not what they were looking at, but who. Instantly they stood at attention, letting him pass. The fliers parked nearby painted his silverish body red in three-second flashes as he headed off the beach and onto the pavement. He shielded his eyes from the morning sun and moved familiarly to a square concrete building with a rounded, non-descript door. As he opened the door he hissed again and his lungs inflated while his gills settled after his morning swim in the bay.
Gideon Ray had been allotted a large swath of resources for his housing. Looking around his chambers in Sharkhead, one would never know this. But it was for convenience rather than need that he'd had the large meat locker built into his domicile. It's glass door was partially frosted over, and within he could see racks of hooks, upon which were sides of beef and pork, while others held more sporting meals. They hung there, silent now, and awaited his hunger.
The man known to the Arachnos as Captain Mako settled in as well as he could, but he felt ill at ease even here. This place was supposed to be his home, but it was more a place for others to bother him at, a place to be pinned down to. No, the seas surrounding the islands were his true home, but living on land was an inconvenience required by his station. His black eyes darted around the sparse domicile; in the corner was his armor reinforced sensory deprivation tank with the aerator pumps. In the other corner was his vid-screen and communication hub. Stepping up to it, he paused as a clawed finger felt over the glass cover of a yellowing photograph of a young man and woman. He knew he was supposed to feel something, that's what people did. But there was no emotion towards the keepsake. He wasn't even sure why he kept it, other than that's what people did. It was much like this 'residence', a social obligation he simply did not want, but did so that questions were not raised. He felt the moisture beading on his skin. He rubbed the droplets into a thin layer over him and then sniffed his hands, keeping the sea with him as long as he could.
'Activate' was all he said towards the communications hub. This was the time when people planned their day, when the cattle started their routines. It started with the consumption of information provided by the sea of images from the television. Then, once those schools of humans went about their daily lives, chewing on that cud, they spewed the chum back at each other around water coolers and break rooms. He chose to stand before the screen, fingers twitching as the screen illuminated the room in its teal incandescence. Others could sit, be complacent, he had to be ready to move, to feed. So hungry. He looked back at the meat cooler, licking his rows of razor sharp teeth. He'd have been upset over the lack of effort needed for the meal, if the raw meat wasn't so fulfilling to his palette and his belly.
"Welcome to the Morning News! I'm Joe Rohsin." Said the smiling man behind the desk, Mako curled his lips in disgust. The lighting in the studio, on cue, illuminated the woman who was always by his side like a lamprey.
"And I'm Anna Claireborn." Mako curled his thin lips. Why he kept these rituals was beyond him, these faces greeting him every morning, mocking him with their smiles, prey in a shark cage always out of reach from his teeth and jaws.
He regarded the screen; like it or not, he had to know what the herds of people were up to.
"Well, Anna, what do you know about sharks?" Mako blinked, leaning forward a bit. This was certainly a pleasant turn of events for him.
"Not much, Joe, aren't they fierce, deadly predators? Attacking any who cross their path?"
"Well, Anna, many would have you think that, but this week we are covering sharks in much of our weekly programming here on WSPDR, trying to show the real side of these magnificent creatures, the gentle, playful dancers of the waves. It's something we like to call 'Sharks: The Dolphin's Smiling Cousin'."
Mako felt his jaw drop, his rage a small ember, but growing quickly as cartoon images of sharks overlaid with soft, sweet music played.
"Joe, that looks wonderful! I had no idea sharks were so friendly! I bet that's why Lord Recluse has Captain Mako as a peacekeeper and friend to the other generals." Mako twitched, claws clenching into fists. Who were these people with a death-wish!? How DARE they?!
He continued to watch the broadcast, images of great whites and hammerheads jumping from the water in slow motion to the music of Mozart and Beethoven, making them look like ballerinas of the sea. It stripped them of their ferocity, their pure fury and power, and then came an off-hand mention of him in association with this behavior. These people would pay for this. They would pay in flesh, blood, and the tears of their loved ones.
He reared back and threw himself at the screen, crashing into the large smiling face of the man, spider webbing it and crushing it against the wall in a spray of sparks. He lifted the monitor in his blood rage, crashing it onto the ground, onto to pick it up again to smash over and over. He dug deep into his primal fury, angry that the daily routines of Gideon Ray had been twisted into this insult to his very being. He would be a laughingstock, seen as nothing more than so much fluff and chum. He looked to the cooler full of meat. No, this needed live prey, something that screamed. He'd show not just Arachnos, but the world that he was no smiling cousin to dolphins...
Perhaps after whetting his appetite for bloodlust in the Rogue Isles, a visit to his original home, Paragon City was in order. If anything, a show of power there would cement his image with Lord Recluse. He spun and exited the door back to the street. Sadly, the nearby Arachnos soldier coming to investigate the loud noises became the first victim of his rage. He looked back to the ocean, ran towards it and dove in...
It may have been Gideon Ray who heard the morning news, but it was Captain Mako who was about to make the nightly broadcast.
---------------------
Captain Mako Week kicks off a Double XP weekend from 8:00 AM CDT on Friday August 10 through 8:00 AM CDT on Monday, August 13 and continues throughout the week with in-game invasions and more! Join us in Paragon City and show Captain Mako who tops the food chain!
Sharkhead Isle
From the cold depths of the ocean, a figure emerged onto the sandy beaches of Sharkhead Isle. Hunching over, his neck and limbs twitched and spasmed, gripping at his chest as he inhaled a hissing breath. He looked about as Arachnos soldiers peered at him in the distance. The targeting displays within their helmets zoomed in and adjusted resolution before the computer positively identified not what they were looking at, but who. Instantly they stood at attention, letting him pass. The fliers parked nearby painted his silverish body red in three-second flashes as he headed off the beach and onto the pavement. He shielded his eyes from the morning sun and moved familiarly to a square concrete building with a rounded, non-descript door. As he opened the door he hissed again and his lungs inflated while his gills settled after his morning swim in the bay.
Gideon Ray had been allotted a large swath of resources for his housing. Looking around his chambers in Sharkhead, one would never know this. But it was for convenience rather than need that he'd had the large meat locker built into his domicile. It's glass door was partially frosted over, and within he could see racks of hooks, upon which were sides of beef and pork, while others held more sporting meals. They hung there, silent now, and awaited his hunger.
The man known to the Arachnos as Captain Mako settled in as well as he could, but he felt ill at ease even here. This place was supposed to be his home, but it was more a place for others to bother him at, a place to be pinned down to. No, the seas surrounding the islands were his true home, but living on land was an inconvenience required by his station. His black eyes darted around the sparse domicile; in the corner was his armor reinforced sensory deprivation tank with the aerator pumps. In the other corner was his vid-screen and communication hub. Stepping up to it, he paused as a clawed finger felt over the glass cover of a yellowing photograph of a young man and woman. He knew he was supposed to feel something, that's what people did. But there was no emotion towards the keepsake. He wasn't even sure why he kept it, other than that's what people did. It was much like this 'residence', a social obligation he simply did not want, but did so that questions were not raised. He felt the moisture beading on his skin. He rubbed the droplets into a thin layer over him and then sniffed his hands, keeping the sea with him as long as he could.
'Activate' was all he said towards the communications hub. This was the time when people planned their day, when the cattle started their routines. It started with the consumption of information provided by the sea of images from the television. Then, once those schools of humans went about their daily lives, chewing on that cud, they spewed the chum back at each other around water coolers and break rooms. He chose to stand before the screen, fingers twitching as the screen illuminated the room in its teal incandescence. Others could sit, be complacent, he had to be ready to move, to feed. So hungry. He looked back at the meat cooler, licking his rows of razor sharp teeth. He'd have been upset over the lack of effort needed for the meal, if the raw meat wasn't so fulfilling to his palette and his belly.
"Welcome to the Morning News! I'm Joe Rohsin." Said the smiling man behind the desk, Mako curled his lips in disgust. The lighting in the studio, on cue, illuminated the woman who was always by his side like a lamprey.
"And I'm Anna Claireborn." Mako curled his thin lips. Why he kept these rituals was beyond him, these faces greeting him every morning, mocking him with their smiles, prey in a shark cage always out of reach from his teeth and jaws.
He regarded the screen; like it or not, he had to know what the herds of people were up to.
"Well, Anna, what do you know about sharks?" Mako blinked, leaning forward a bit. This was certainly a pleasant turn of events for him.
"Not much, Joe, aren't they fierce, deadly predators? Attacking any who cross their path?"
"Well, Anna, many would have you think that, but this week we are covering sharks in much of our weekly programming here on WSPDR, trying to show the real side of these magnificent creatures, the gentle, playful dancers of the waves. It's something we like to call 'Sharks: The Dolphin's Smiling Cousin'."
Mako felt his jaw drop, his rage a small ember, but growing quickly as cartoon images of sharks overlaid with soft, sweet music played.
"Joe, that looks wonderful! I had no idea sharks were so friendly! I bet that's why Lord Recluse has Captain Mako as a peacekeeper and friend to the other generals." Mako twitched, claws clenching into fists. Who were these people with a death-wish!? How DARE they?!
He continued to watch the broadcast, images of great whites and hammerheads jumping from the water in slow motion to the music of Mozart and Beethoven, making them look like ballerinas of the sea. It stripped them of their ferocity, their pure fury and power, and then came an off-hand mention of him in association with this behavior. These people would pay for this. They would pay in flesh, blood, and the tears of their loved ones.
He reared back and threw himself at the screen, crashing into the large smiling face of the man, spider webbing it and crushing it against the wall in a spray of sparks. He lifted the monitor in his blood rage, crashing it onto the ground, onto to pick it up again to smash over and over. He dug deep into his primal fury, angry that the daily routines of Gideon Ray had been twisted into this insult to his very being. He would be a laughingstock, seen as nothing more than so much fluff and chum. He looked to the cooler full of meat. No, this needed live prey, something that screamed. He'd show not just Arachnos, but the world that he was no smiling cousin to dolphins...
Perhaps after whetting his appetite for bloodlust in the Rogue Isles, a visit to his original home, Paragon City was in order. If anything, a show of power there would cement his image with Lord Recluse. He spun and exited the door back to the street. Sadly, the nearby Arachnos soldier coming to investigate the loud noises became the first victim of his rage. He looked back to the ocean, ran towards it and dove in...
It may have been Gideon Ray who heard the morning news, but it was Captain Mako who was about to make the nightly broadcast.
---------------------
Captain Mako Week kicks off a Double XP weekend from 8:00 AM CDT on Friday August 10 through 8:00 AM CDT on Monday, August 13 and continues throughout the week with in-game invasions and more! Join us in Paragon City and show Captain Mako who tops the food chain!
Discuss Captain Mako Week HERE!
Jessie Lawrence
Assistant Community Manager
Paragon Studios
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