Mulehorn117
Community Member
We ate MHG have being working on some origin stories, and here is another one! Enjoy!
http://mulehorngaming.com/2016/02/22/the-division-origins-story-wilson/
Like most kids growing up in the rural south Wilson didn’t have a lot of avenues to escape his life in a small town. About the only thing he had was sports, and he wasn’t going pro any day soon. So, it was either work at the local grocery store or join the military.
Wilson found himself sitting in a room with a recruiter who told him he was an “excellent” candidate for the military. “You are in great shape from your athletic endeavors, and I know most country boys think they can shoot”, as the recruiter chuckled.
A few years down the road Wilson found himself “washed out” of the military. Now living in the Big Apple, he turned to the only job he was good at: manual labor. Through the years he made some good friends, John, Michael, and Joe, while working at the docks. They gave Wilson the nickname “Mule” since he was so strong and stubborn.
“Hey, Mule!”, Joe yelled. “You working on Black Friday? Heard the boss was letting a few of us off that day.” Wilson responded, “Yeah man, I got the day off. Y’all off to?” Joe chucked, “All these years in New York and you still say y’all? Ha ha ha. Yeah, man we got off too. Let’s go buy a big screen or something. I saw a bunch of them on sale at Sears.” Wilson looked up, “Alright, I’m game. Got a few dollars burning a hole in my pocket. Hey, since we got the day off let’s go hang out at my place.” The boys all perked up, “Wait a second you finally going to show us that sweet pad you live in?”, said John. “Yeah man, I got some beer, pizza, and video games.” Wilson smiled as the words rolled out of his mouth. “I know you guys won’t turn that down.” “Hell yeah!” they cried in unison.
As the guys rolled in to Wilson’s apartment they all were joking with one another. “Mule, only you have a Texas flag hanging in your living room while living in New York! HA HA HA!” Michael said. Wilson responded with a laugh, “You can take the mule out of Texas but you can’t take the Texas out of the Mule.”
“Hey guys check this out,” as Wilson motioned them over to his closet. John, Michael, and Joe peered inside as Wilson opened up the door of a giant safe. “Holy $#*% man you got a ton of guns in there!” John said clearly a little nervous. “Where did you get all those guns man!?” Wilson replied, “All legal man. I just loved to shoot and hunt as a kid so I couldn’t give my babies away.”
Michael spoke up, “But, hey yo that’s a freaking AR sitting right there.” “Yeah man that’s a civilian AR-15. Not the military kind.” as a look of seriousness passed over Wilson’s face. “Hey mule we get it man. You didn’t make it in the military so now you just buy guns. HA HA HA!” John chuckled as the fellas all joined in the laughter. Wilson’s face turned and he awkwardly joined in on the laughing. “I guess you could say that.”
“Hey mule, what’s in the bag there? Never seen a patch like that before?” as Joe spotted a black bag tucked away behind all the other guns. “I know you don’t talk about what happened to you in the military, but is that like your old unit or something?” Mule pushed the bag a little deeper into the safe, “Yeah man just the unit I was with before I washed out. Just an old keep sake. Let’s go play some games man.”
Like most game nights the guys all stayed up too late, and missed out on the Black Friday sale. “Crap!” muttered John as he woke up and looked at his watch. “HEY GUYS! It’s 9 o’clock already. Those TV’s are gone man!”
Joe moved over to peer outside the window. “Man, something crazy is going on out there.” Wilson moved closer to the window to see. “Guys, move away from the windows. Push the couch up against the door. Buckle up, we got a riot or something on our hands,” Wilson said has he walked over to the couch.
It was too late. They could hear screams and commotion coming from the hallway and down the stairs from his second story apartment. Suddenly, the door broke from it’s hinges as a burly young man staggered into the living room holding a shotgun. Wilson’s sprinted straight toward the shotgun wielding man as his training took over. The burly lad aimed the shotgun at Wilson and began to pull the trigger just when Wilson went down to one knee and slid under the shotgun.
BANG! It blasted just above his head. Joe, Michael, and John scattered in the panic, as Wilson came up from under the gun grabbing it’s barrel. He maneuvered it out of the intruders hands. SNAP! They could hear the unmistakeable, stomach churning sound of bone breaking. Wilson rose up standing above the kid. “Get out of here. Now.” The frightened man scrambled up to his feet stumbling and tripping over objects as he held his arm in pain.
Standing there, the shotgun still in his hand, Wilson could feel the eyes of his friends on him. “What the hell was that Mule!?” As Wilson turned to look at his friends his watch began to glow a bright orange color. He raised his eyes to meet those of his friends in the room. After a short moment of silence Mule sped over to his safe, grabbed his gear and headed for the door. All while his friends threw out what seemed like thousands of questions at him. He paused, looked at Joe, handed him the shotgun and said, “I have to go.”
http://mulehorngaming.com/2016/02/22/the-division-origins-story-wilson/
Like most kids growing up in the rural south Wilson didn’t have a lot of avenues to escape his life in a small town. About the only thing he had was sports, and he wasn’t going pro any day soon. So, it was either work at the local grocery store or join the military.
Wilson found himself sitting in a room with a recruiter who told him he was an “excellent” candidate for the military. “You are in great shape from your athletic endeavors, and I know most country boys think they can shoot”, as the recruiter chuckled.
A few years down the road Wilson found himself “washed out” of the military. Now living in the Big Apple, he turned to the only job he was good at: manual labor. Through the years he made some good friends, John, Michael, and Joe, while working at the docks. They gave Wilson the nickname “Mule” since he was so strong and stubborn.
“Hey, Mule!”, Joe yelled. “You working on Black Friday? Heard the boss was letting a few of us off that day.” Wilson responded, “Yeah man, I got the day off. Y’all off to?” Joe chucked, “All these years in New York and you still say y’all? Ha ha ha. Yeah, man we got off too. Let’s go buy a big screen or something. I saw a bunch of them on sale at Sears.” Wilson looked up, “Alright, I’m game. Got a few dollars burning a hole in my pocket. Hey, since we got the day off let’s go hang out at my place.” The boys all perked up, “Wait a second you finally going to show us that sweet pad you live in?”, said John. “Yeah man, I got some beer, pizza, and video games.” Wilson smiled as the words rolled out of his mouth. “I know you guys won’t turn that down.” “Hell yeah!” they cried in unison.
As the guys rolled in to Wilson’s apartment they all were joking with one another. “Mule, only you have a Texas flag hanging in your living room while living in New York! HA HA HA!” Michael said. Wilson responded with a laugh, “You can take the mule out of Texas but you can’t take the Texas out of the Mule.”
“Hey guys check this out,” as Wilson motioned them over to his closet. John, Michael, and Joe peered inside as Wilson opened up the door of a giant safe. “Holy $#*% man you got a ton of guns in there!” John said clearly a little nervous. “Where did you get all those guns man!?” Wilson replied, “All legal man. I just loved to shoot and hunt as a kid so I couldn’t give my babies away.”
Michael spoke up, “But, hey yo that’s a freaking AR sitting right there.” “Yeah man that’s a civilian AR-15. Not the military kind.” as a look of seriousness passed over Wilson’s face. “Hey mule we get it man. You didn’t make it in the military so now you just buy guns. HA HA HA!” John chuckled as the fellas all joined in the laughter. Wilson’s face turned and he awkwardly joined in on the laughing. “I guess you could say that.”
“Hey mule, what’s in the bag there? Never seen a patch like that before?” as Joe spotted a black bag tucked away behind all the other guns. “I know you don’t talk about what happened to you in the military, but is that like your old unit or something?” Mule pushed the bag a little deeper into the safe, “Yeah man just the unit I was with before I washed out. Just an old keep sake. Let’s go play some games man.”
Like most game nights the guys all stayed up too late, and missed out on the Black Friday sale. “Crap!” muttered John as he woke up and looked at his watch. “HEY GUYS! It’s 9 o’clock already. Those TV’s are gone man!”
Joe moved over to peer outside the window. “Man, something crazy is going on out there.” Wilson moved closer to the window to see. “Guys, move away from the windows. Push the couch up against the door. Buckle up, we got a riot or something on our hands,” Wilson said has he walked over to the couch.
It was too late. They could hear screams and commotion coming from the hallway and down the stairs from his second story apartment. Suddenly, the door broke from it’s hinges as a burly young man staggered into the living room holding a shotgun. Wilson’s sprinted straight toward the shotgun wielding man as his training took over. The burly lad aimed the shotgun at Wilson and began to pull the trigger just when Wilson went down to one knee and slid under the shotgun.
BANG! It blasted just above his head. Joe, Michael, and John scattered in the panic, as Wilson came up from under the gun grabbing it’s barrel. He maneuvered it out of the intruders hands. SNAP! They could hear the unmistakeable, stomach churning sound of bone breaking. Wilson rose up standing above the kid. “Get out of here. Now.” The frightened man scrambled up to his feet stumbling and tripping over objects as he held his arm in pain.
Standing there, the shotgun still in his hand, Wilson could feel the eyes of his friends on him. “What the hell was that Mule!?” As Wilson turned to look at his friends his watch began to glow a bright orange color. He raised his eyes to meet those of his friends in the room. After a short moment of silence Mule sped over to his safe, grabbed his gear and headed for the door. All while his friends threw out what seemed like thousands of questions at him. He paused, looked at Joe, handed him the shotgun and said, “I have to go.”
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