Carlos doesn't speak it. He doesn't say a word. But his face is resigned and some far off forgotten part of him understands without the need for words.
'THERE IS REBELLION. THERE ARE THOSE WHO SAY IT DOES NOT EXIST BUT THEY AIN'T KNOW FOR SHIT OR THEY AIN'T GOT A TONGUE OF TRUTHS TELLING. THERE ARE LIES PERSISTING HERE AND THEY DO NOT CEASE. BUT I AM PREACHER OF TRUTHS AND UNTO YOU I SHALL TELL.'
In Carlos's mind, in his fear, he paints a new image. He paints a motherfucking opportunity.
'THE REBELLION PERSISTS. IT LIVES ON THE THIRTEENTH DITRICT WHICH TOO STANDS PRETENDED INEXISTENCE. THEY STAND AT STALEMATE WITH THE CAPITOL AND ALL WHAT IS NEEDED IS THE RIGHT MOTHERFUCKING POWER TO PUSH. BUT... THEY DO NOT RECOGNIZE KNOW WORTH THE LOT OF US. OF OUR ILK, THEY SEE NAUGHT. THEY CARE NOT. THEY WOULD SEE ALL DEAD FOR THEIR CAUSE AS EASILY AS ALL THE CAPITOL WOULD MAKE AT TO UP AND DO SO. THEY HAVE ABANDONED THEIR OWN KIND AND ON OUR PEOPLE THEY HAVE UNLEASHED BEASTS, CLAIMING IT TO BE CAPITOL WORK. THEIR IS TREACHERY WITHIN EACH SIDE AND WE MUST ALL MAKE TO BE MOTHERFUCKING MINDFUL. OF THEM WE MUST BE MINDFUL WHILST WE SHOW THEM THEY ARE WRONG.'
The voodoo cuts and carves. To speak like this into the mind leaves marks. Scars that while perhaps forgotten, will not fade completely. But as it cuts into his own mind and has down so for longer than his recollection stretches, he knows it shall not break if all done right. And he knows well how to work fear.
'WE MUST SEEK ALLY TRUE, AND WE MUST UNDONE, AND WE MOST SHOW THEM THEY CANNOT WIN WITHOUT US. AND WE MUST SO THEN WIN. WE SHALL NOT STOOP TO THAT WHICH ALL THEY UP AND DO. OUR SINS BE ADMITTED AS SUCH AND OUR GLORIES LIKEWISE. WE SHALL CULL THE LIARS. WE SHALL BRING OUT THAT WHICH IS RIGHTEOUS. AND YOU SHALL NOT UTTER A MOTHERFUCKING WORD. ABOVE ALL THINGS, WE MUST KEEP THIS ALL SECRET.'
He lets that all settle. Like the gasp for breath after a knife lifts. Then he asks, 'DO YOU UNDERSTAND?'
no subject
'THERE IS REBELLION. THERE ARE THOSE WHO SAY IT DOES NOT EXIST BUT THEY AIN'T KNOW FOR SHIT OR THEY AIN'T GOT A TONGUE OF TRUTHS TELLING. THERE ARE LIES PERSISTING HERE AND THEY DO NOT CEASE. BUT I AM PREACHER OF TRUTHS AND UNTO YOU I SHALL TELL.'
In Carlos's mind, in his fear, he paints a new image. He paints a motherfucking opportunity.
'THE REBELLION PERSISTS. IT LIVES ON THE THIRTEENTH DITRICT WHICH TOO STANDS PRETENDED INEXISTENCE. THEY STAND AT STALEMATE WITH THE CAPITOL AND ALL WHAT IS NEEDED IS THE RIGHT MOTHERFUCKING POWER TO PUSH. BUT... THEY DO NOT RECOGNIZE KNOW WORTH THE LOT OF US. OF OUR ILK, THEY SEE NAUGHT. THEY CARE NOT. THEY WOULD SEE ALL DEAD FOR THEIR CAUSE AS EASILY AS ALL THE CAPITOL WOULD MAKE AT TO UP AND DO SO. THEY HAVE ABANDONED THEIR OWN KIND AND ON OUR PEOPLE THEY HAVE UNLEASHED BEASTS, CLAIMING IT TO BE CAPITOL WORK. THEIR IS TREACHERY WITHIN EACH SIDE AND WE MUST ALL MAKE TO BE MOTHERFUCKING MINDFUL. OF THEM WE MUST BE MINDFUL WHILST WE SHOW THEM THEY ARE WRONG.'
The voodoo cuts and carves. To speak like this into the mind leaves marks. Scars that while perhaps forgotten, will not fade completely. But as it cuts into his own mind and has down so for longer than his recollection stretches, he knows it shall not break if all done right. And he knows well how to work fear.
'WE MUST SEEK ALLY TRUE, AND WE MUST UNDONE, AND WE MOST SHOW THEM THEY CANNOT WIN WITHOUT US. AND WE MUST SO THEN WIN. WE SHALL NOT STOOP TO THAT WHICH ALL THEY UP AND DO. OUR SINS BE ADMITTED AS SUCH AND OUR GLORIES LIKEWISE. WE SHALL CULL THE LIARS. WE SHALL BRING OUT THAT WHICH IS RIGHTEOUS. AND YOU SHALL NOT UTTER A MOTHERFUCKING WORD. ABOVE ALL THINGS, WE MUST KEEP THIS ALL SECRET.'
He lets that all settle. Like the gasp for breath after a knife lifts. Then he asks, 'DO YOU UNDERSTAND?'