I have had the idea for this character rattling about in my head for a few months now. And while I let him roll about he's taken a shape of sorts over time. Well, I guess in short the following is a scene that serves to sort of introduce him in a way. I know it may not be much to go on but I'd like to toss him out and see how he does. In a day or so I may return to explain him a bit further. Hopefully he will go on to be an enjoyable figure to add to Requiem.
So, without further ado, I'd like to introduce you to Mason Kincaid:
Nobody appreciates quality craftsmanship anymore. The thought drifted to the forefront of Mason's mind as his gaze casually swept over a segment of a worked stone wall. He couldn't help but feel a mixture of both sadness and pride at the notion. Great care and attention was required to shape each block. Not to mention the labor of laying the stones or in getting the mortar mixed properly. If done right such stone work could stand for ages, however, if done wrong the whole thing could collapse without warning.
Mason could readily admit the whole thing was not something your average person stops to contemplate. Perhaps it could be attributed to his family's tradition of naming sons after archaic crafts or his own innate curiosity. But no matter the reasoning Mason had always found himself fascinated by his own namesake profession. There was a certain allure in the art of building something through sweat, skill and dedication that could endure long after you were gone.
It was this very knowledge that told him volumes about the structure before him. The meticulous construction of the foundation, namely the choice and interlocking placement of it's stone was the mark of a skilled craftsman. Yet after only a few runs the stone suddenly changed to cheap brick that had already chipped and cracked. Such quality work obviously hadn't proceeded quickly enough to satisfy it's patron prompting a lesser skilled craftsman to be hired as a replacement. Much of the mortar had even started to crumble allowing some of the stone to slip. It wouldn't be long before the whole thing collapsed under the strain of it's own weight.
A faintly whistled tune drifted along the night air, snatching Mason from his thoughts. The melody issued from a carefree young man strolling along down the opposite side of the street. Nothing caught the gaze of this oblivious pedestrian, not the stone work he waltzed by, the debris in his path, nor even the presence of a figure seemingly lost in thought across the street. With casual ease Mason reached down and scooped up a nice fist sized chuck of rock pausing just long enough to gauge it's heft. Deciding it should do the trick he aimed a toss that neatly delivered the projectile into a collision with a visibly weak corner stone, displacing what little remained of it's support.
Like dominos the bricks toppled into a cascading wave that descended squarely atop the hapless figure, trapping him. Taking only a few steps into the street Mason marked the pleading gaze of his victim as he silently begged for some explanation to his plight.
"A job should be done right, or not at all, don't you agree?" Mason inquired aloud in a clear and calm tone. "Perhaps someone should file a complaint about the dangerous construction practices before anything unfortunate happens. But, then again - you do get what you pay for. Don't you Barger?" The comment ignited an explosion of panic from beneath the debris as Barger cried out for mercy and aid. It's only reply was Mason's back as he walked away, letting the pleas trail off into silence as the weight of his makeshift tomb crushed the air from him.
"Mason Kincaid," he declared as he activated the small comm. unit hidden in his collar. "Target eliminated."
"Nice work Kincaid, now get back as fast as you can. We have a situation," a stern voice replied. "Always do," Mason jested as he clicked off his comm. At least he could take some solace in knowing the local children's shelter should no longer be burdened by a mysterious shortage of funds.