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Post by Celestial on Jun 20, 2015 11:12:52 GMT -5
As usual, Ivan woke up early, ahead of all the Children. After he fed the scant few animals on the farm, which consisted of some chickens, a pig and a rather skinny cow, he proceeded to chop up more wood for today, careful to put his shirt aside so that it would not get damaged. Maybe if he was lucky and could scrounge up enough to barter after getting food and everything for the Children, he could get a new one. As usual, he put the radio on quietly while he worked. While often there was very little on, Mr. Thorpe did not always broadcast so early in the morning, but today was different. Today, Uncle May himself was on the radio. Ivan paused in his work to listen closer and almost wished he did not. Murder! Of a child! A shudder ran down his spine and he almost dropped the axe on his foot. The Resistance was going so far as to kill an innocent child, much like...much like his own brothers and sisters. Oh, what if such a terrible fate befell them...or worse, the nixes? Rose, Cori or...or even Caraway?! He gasped and pu the axe down, clasping his hands together. Life was good, life was good. The Council would deal with these people and then everything would return to normal. Normal and calm and quiet and ordinary like he was. Yes, that's what Ivan wanted. That and maybe Caraway, who of course he could never have. Caraway...he prayed that she listened to him and did not go over the Wall like she said she would. In these dangerous times, who knew what could happen? He left the wood for now. They had enough to last them through the rest of the week anyway, and it was warm too so they were not in any risk of freezing. Since there was a mandatory funeral today, Ivan supposed they would have to wear their best clothes. Of course, that meant his only shirt, but perhaps he could spruce it up a bit. Going up to his room, he took out a box and from it removed a blue tie: his father's, before he died. Putting it over his shirt, and then getting a jacket out, Ivan went to wake the children and get them ready into their best clothes. Once they had all gotten ready, him and the second eldest of the Children proceeded to shepherd them down to the city. Walking by the Nix home, Ivan considered going to check on Cara and the others but decided against it. They had probably already left, and besides, he really should not bother Cara anymore. Not when she had Ronan around. Ivan's heart beat faster, in anger of course, as he thought about the handsome, dark-haired stranger, in particular lingering on his peircing eyes and the suggestion of muscle beneath his shirt. No, only a pathetic loser would bother them when he was clearly outmatched by the dangerous, sexy stranger, and besides, Cara would probably be so insulted if he insinuated she could not take care of herself. So Ivan kept walking, herding the children until they got into town. However, when they did, he noticed a woman out in the middle of the street bawling her eyes out. Ivan stopped, frowning at her obvious distress. He knew that a child had been murdered...oh no, could that have been her mother? "Uhh...listen," he turned to the oldest of the Children, "Why don't you take the others and go on ahead? I have to check that nice lady over there is going to be alright." Once the Children were all safely on their way, Ivan carefully approached the woman sobbing in the street and tentatively leaned down next to her. "Umm...are you alright, ma'am? Do you want some help?" Ivan gets up and finds out the news of Arlie's murder on the radio. He frets about Caraway and the Children before getting them ready for the funeral, though he does not stop by the Nix's house because he is sure that he should not bother Cara if she's so smitten with Ronan. But on the way to the funeral, he runs into the crying Fortune ( PFA) and asks her if she's okay.
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Post by Avery on Jun 20, 2015 14:14:32 GMT -5
Trailing behind Coriander and Rosemary, Caraway Nix limped tragically all the way to the Wall, balanced so heroically on her wooden crutches. Of course Cori and Rose walked so fast as to nearly leave her behind, but how could Cara blame them? She was a weak link now! Useless! Not just average, but a drain on all resources! At this thought, she let out a super sad kitten-like whine that sounded like a... kitten's whine... before swallowing it down and quieting. She could not complain, oh no, people like poor Cara could not complain - she had to keep on a brave face for sweet Rosemary, even if the truth was that, with Cara crippled, she and Rosemary were kind of going to starve brutally to death very, very soon! A small crowd was already beginning to form at the Wall, and Cara settled near the fringe of it - as far away from the convened (and heavily guarded) Council members as she could. She did not want to attract their attention, after all, because what if they saw her crutches and asked how she'd hurt herself, and couldn't lie well enough because of course someone as noble (but average) as Cara could not tell lies, her face and tremulous, unsexy voice always betrayed her, and then there would be no time for starving to death because if the Council knew she'd tried to scale the Wall, she would be so swiftly hanged. As she noticed Rosemary drifting up in the crowd, closer to the Council, Cara lashed out a hand and grabbed on to her little sister. "Sweetheart, no, you mustn't," she whispered dramatically. "We have to stay under the radar!" Rosemary frowned, her green eyes - similar in shade to Cara's, although of course Rosemary was not nearly so average and plain as her older sister, unlike emeralds her eyes were perhaps like forests of amazing love - flickering with confusion. "But I wanted to go stand near Uncle May," the child replied. "Oh, Rose!" Cara gasped. "That is the last place one must stand! No, we have to stay quiet and out of sight. Be brave, my little sister. You are so very sweet and brave!" Cara stands at the periphery of the crowd at the memorial, attempting not to catch the Council's attention. She tells Rosemary how brave the child is. Perhaps someone else is nearby and notices her, with her tragic crutches?
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Post by Jayeee on Jun 20, 2015 15:31:51 GMT -5
That tension was totally still in the air today. I bet I could have cut it with a majorly sharp knife – like butter. Only low-fat butter made with cows who like, totally led a fulfilling life. #LowWeightIsMyFate. I just had to go and investigate again. Maybe there were some people to help – poor unfortunate souls, in pain and in need. It was totally a skipping kind of day, so I frolicked along the streets, dodging as much tension as I could. I so wished that i’d remembered to bring some glitter, because that would have made this picture way complete. I would have found somebody to paint me a selfie, it would’ve been totally glam. It totally wasn’t a long time before I found some people. I had to push some kids out of the way to get there first though – physical advice works much better than verbal sometimes. That’s why I carry my lush day planner, for a good smack upside the head. Some woman was crying in the street, and a man was leaning over her. Like OH EM GEE, was he some kind of attacker?! He was totally dashing though. #TakeMeInstead #NobleSacrifice #IWouldntBeCrying. I totally wanted to tell the woman that crying was just going to bring about blemishes – surely nothing could have happened that was that bad? Maybe one of her cats had run away. There are like, fifteen more, I bet. But then a plan struck me. I total ran over to them, knelt down next to the woman and started crying too. Way louder though, because please, this was my time to shine. “So upsetting,” I sobbed way emphatically, “Mr. Booboo Kittenson was just the greatest!” I made sure to look up the NEW bae every so often, and subtly muttered “I’m single,” underneath my totally believable crying. If I hadn’t been selfless enough to choose Personal Assistant as my life calling, I should so have been an actor. “What are we – My name is – going to do without – Sebastian McKenzie – that adorable little – Forbes-Thurlow-Thomas – kitten to bright up – and I love long walks – our day?! – along the wall.” I leaned my head on the woman’s shoulder, and had a totally shocking revelation. Maybe I was HER bae! I could totally live with that – I could free her from a life of catdom. #CatsWorseThanBrats. There was totally a bae triangle up in here! Can I just emphasize that on my way to explore the rising tension, I totally found PFA crying in the streets. And NEW Bae Celestial was totally with her. I didn't need no invitation to join that party. #TwoGuysOneCatLady #SorryCori #Replaced
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Post by ♥ Lulu on Jun 20, 2015 16:04:54 GMT -5
The previous day…
As they sat outside, just off the square, eating lunch, Catalina’s wife explained the message on the Wall. That the Resistance had mentioned deaths were to start and that the message may or may not have been written in blood. It was hard to tell if children were exaggerating or not. Cat had an uncomfortable feeling as Pansy relayed the information to her. The situation with the Resistance seemed to have been getting more serious, and quickly. What were the Council going to do about it? Pansy hadn’t known, since the child, unsurprisingly, hadn’t said. It seemed to Cat that drastic measures would be taken, but it was always hard to tell whether the Council would do that, or sweep it quietly away. Whether it would just be a small transgression from a good life, or a witch hunt, she didn't know yet.
That morning…
Catalina woke up before Pansy for once. She crawled out of a warm bed and into jeans and a scrappy t-shirt. It was Cat’s mother’s originally, a gift from her father, who had come from the Outside, and she was loathe to throw it away despite all the holes and tears it had acquired over the years. It was practically disintegrating. It held the logo “Frankie Says Relax”, though Cat wasn’t sure what that was about exactly. Who was Frankie, and what were they meant to be relaxing about? Anyway, it was her last possession of her father’s since he’d died ten years ago - of something that hadn’t been revealed. Her mum had gotten rid of everything that reminded her of him after the death, and so Cat had squirrelled this away when helping to clear the house.
Once dressed and her lips had been dabbed with a bit of lipstick, she wondered down into the kitchen to start cooking breakfast. Pancakes would be the order of the day, and she flicked the radio on while she mixed her ingredients. It was after a half hour, when breakfast was finished, that she noticed who was talking on the radio show: Uncle May. She stopped laying the table and listened, as he revealed the death of a little girl - a one Arlie Brook. Cat sucked a breath in, and then ran through the house.
She took to the stairs, two at a time, up to their little master bedroom. “Pansy,” she yelled as she got to the top. She slammed their door open to look in on her semi-sleeping wife and lowered her voice. “Pansy, wake up! We have to get ready - Uncle May is on the radio, there’s a mandatory funeral soon and we need to get ready. A little girl - a little girl has died” As she spoke, she got herself into a pair of slacks and a black shirt, more funeral appropriate than a natty t-shirt.
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Post by Gelquie on Jun 20, 2015 17:02:44 GMT -5
((Collab with Avery!)) It was an annoying trek to the funeral, with Cara constantly falling behind, even though Cori had tried to slow down for her. Even worse was when she made the most passive-aggressive whine before quieting down and doing everything she could to mope. Ugh. It was a good thing they were making good time. Technically, they were going a little early, but it was better that way. If Cori had gone to work, by the time she'd gotten there, she'd just have to turn back. And she thought the extra time would be good for Cara to keep up with their pace. She just didn't know how true this would be. They got there a little early, so Cori tried to find a good place in the crowd for them to stand; preferably near the front, where she and her siblings would have a good view. They were waiting for the rest of the crowd to arrive and the memorial to begin when Rosemary tried to go up, only to be 'valiantly' stopped by Cara. Cori let out a sigh of disgust. "Cara! Rosemary can go near Uncle May if she wants; he's not going to hurt her." Cori turned to Rosemary. "Just don't bother him too much; he's busy." “Do you even hear yourself talk?” Cara gasped in horror. “Do you want Rosemary to get killed, Coriander? Do you want it to be her memorial next?” "She's not going to get killed for standing near Uncle May!" Cori shook her head in exasperation before staring Cara straight in the eyes. "What is your problem, it's Uncle May, stop being so paranoid." “You are deluded,” Cara hissed, gripping with white knuckles to her crutches. “And I’ve let you get away with it for too long. But no more, Coriander! I am injured now, and if you don’t pull your head out of the mud, we are all going to starve to death!” “Um.” Rosemary glanced between her sisters in confusion. “Why… are we going to starve?” "Oh, now you've scared Rosemary, good job," Cori said acidly. "We're not going to starve, we've got plenty of food! What do you think I keep putting on the table for you all, dirt and grass? We're not in dire straights, you need to wake up already!" “Stop yelling!” Cara yelled. “You’re going to attract attention and then we will all die like that poor street urchin!” Glaring at her elder sister, Caraway was so unfairly distracted by the wretch who was delusional awful Cori that she didn’t even notice when Rosemary, either frustrated by the situation or merely bored by the usual fighting, slunk into the crowd; by the time Cara looked back in her direction some twenty seconds later, the youngest Nix had threaded her way through the assembled townspeople and was only feet away from the guards who formed a heavy flank in front of the Council. “Rosemaaaaary!” Cara clapped a hand over her head, before jerking her head back toward Coriander. “This is all your fault!” she sobbed. Cori followed Cara's gaze towards Rosemary before sighing at Cara's sudden despondence and clapping a very, very firm hand on Cara. "This is my chance to prove it, look." She pointed at Rosemary as she approached the guards. "Watch how nothing bad will happen. Honestly, what do you think the Council is, a group of child murderers?" Tears clouded Cara’s eyes as she watched Rosemary speak with one of the guardsmen. Oh, gods, no, was she about to watch her baby sister get brutally slaughtered in public for speaking out of turn!? This… this… “I can’t watch!” She felt faint, her vision tunneling, her head spinning. Suddenly wavering on her crutches, she only barely managed to keep herself from tumbling out cold to the stone beneath. Cori blinked at Cara's sudden near-fainting, and moved behind the girl to keep a firm hand on both of her shoulders; that way she'd be there if she fainted. "Calm down, it's not a big deal. Look, the guards are letting her through right now." Sure enough, Rosemary was, with a guard trailing behind her as she walked up to Uncle May. “I… I don’t understand.” Cara stared on in shock, the wheels in her brain churning at rapid speed, as Rosemary flounced up to May. As the little blonde girl-angel beamed up at the chair of the Council, he smiled down at her and beckoned her over, slinging a casual arm over her shoulder and drawing her close. “It… it must be propaganda,” Cara murmured darkly. “Because another poor child died, so May wants to look caring to the starving orphans who are left. Oh, my poor Rosemary! Being used as a mere political tool!” She felt faint again, her cheeks flushing. “T-this is unbearable, Cori! Soon she’ll be starved to death and still Mayhitch Frinkett carries on like he cares about her!" "Oh grow up," Cori growled. "I am so tired of your nonsense; she's fine there. Besides, we may be orphans, but we're not starving." “I can’t listen to your delusions right now, Cori!” Cara growled. “Goodbye!” And with that, sweet poor Cara used her crutches to limp tragically away from her sister. She could not leave the memorial obviously because it was mandatory and if she left she would be arrested and would die, clearly; but she could at least watch from a more pleasant place away from her insane relative. Gods, Cori! It was so maddening to talk with Cori! "Cara!" Cori called after, but then after a moment let her go. She'd have to walk to a position where she'd have to keep an eye on the girl, but she didn't have to be right next to her all the time to keep her out of trouble. Nor did she have to talk to her, not like talking to her ever worked. She still had her responsibility to her family, but that didn't mean she had to be right next to Cara all the time and arguing with her. She sighed and moved through the crowd, moving to a place where she'd be out of her sister's sight while still able to watch her. Cori and Cara ( Avery) argue about POOR ROSEMARY'S SAFETY. Fed up with their arguing, Rosemary goes up near the Council and their guards anyway, asking to be let through. Cara is TERRIFIED that her sister is about to be executed for talking out of turn to the guards... Except they let her through, and she stands right next to Uncle May without problems. Cara is confused and is certain that May is just using her as PROPAGANDA, which Cori thinks is just ridiculous. Cara stalks off from Cori, and while Cori follows to keep an eye on her, she decides not to be near her. They're both fed up with each other. Anyone is free to bump into Cori or Cara.
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Post by PFA on Jun 20, 2015 22:05:26 GMT -5
Apparently someone had noticed her, as a young man came up beside her and asked if she was okay. Fortune just choked back a sob, shaking her head furiously. "I'm a horrible caretaker," she whimpered. "Arlie... wh-why couldn't I have prevented this?" She knew she would have to attend the funeral, but the thought of it frightened her. The Council was going to be there, weren't they? Fortune was tasked to look after Arlie, and she failed. Oh, what if they punished her? She didn't mean for this to happen... but of course, whatever punishment the Council deemed fit for her she probably deserved. She supposed she would have to face her fears and go anyway, for Arlie's sake. But before she could collect herself enough for that, she was distracted by the sight of another man, who fell down beside her and also started crying, about... his cat, was it? Then the man leaned on her shoulder, which startled her. What was going on? What was she supposed to do? "I... I-I'm sorry about your cat, Mr... McThomas?" she guessed. Trying to pull away from him, she added, "I-I think I need to go to the f-funeral." Fortune cries to Celestial about how she's a horrible caretaker, then consoles Jayeee about his cat, before deciding she should probably go to the funeral.
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Post by RielCZ on Jun 20, 2015 23:39:03 GMT -5
Carlos stirred awake and stole a glance at his self-repaired pre-wall wind-up clock on the nightstand. A quarter to eleven. He stretched obnoxiously and wrapped his arms around his fiancée, pulling her against him and feeling her smooth skin against his… “Good morning,” he thought to her before greeting her with a light kiss on the lips. But it was only right that a good morning would follow such an AMAZING night… They lay together a little while, petting each other, until they were finally ready to get out of bed. Laurie started to prepare a very late breakfast for the two while Carlos tidied the bedroom a little. He picked up her turtleneck and folded it for the pile destined for the wash—it was fun to think of creative ways to coax her out of that thing. Meanwhile, he flipped on his radio and turned the dial to KMLV. Just in case there was anything more relevant than the usual “My how everything is perfect here in Melville!” kind of broadcasting. “—eated every 15 minutes since 6AM…” came Thorpe’s voice over the radio. Something repeated that often? That couldn’t be good. And then Mayhitch’s voice garbled through the speaker. Carlos’s eyes just widened at the word “murder”. He swore to himself and instantly felt alarm linger through his head… Laurie was concerned. He raced into the kitchen to let her listen too. “Shoot. An innocent girl, victim to the resistance,” the engineer repeated, stunned at this news. It was a tragedy. An absolutely heinous act that should not be tolerated under any circumstances. But still... It just seemed so one-sided; he half expected it to be more propaganda, made up by the council to demonize the resistance… But at the same time the resistance had expressed their want for blood—and what better way to show how serious they were than to do something so drastic it received total media attention for hours on end. He supposed he was just in disbelief. “I REALLY didn’t expect THAT to happen,” he finished. There’d be a burial adorning her with flowers this evening, but the mandatory funeral nearby the wall was to start sharp at half past noon… which only left them an hour to get ready and be there. They had to leave ASAP. They’d have to scarf down their fruit-topped waffles and get dressed, into something fitting—not that he really had clothes specifically for funerals, though something nagged at him that funerals would likely start being much more frequent an occurrence in Melville. Carlos didn’t like the fact this funeral was mandatory. At all. Putting everyone in the same place could only mean much easier access for the so-called resistance. He also didn’t like the fact this murder would most certainly open the door to new laws and precedents for the council to “keep the peace”… Heck if everyone was congregated together the council might try to declare something then and there. Laurie sensed his tension and wrapped her arms around his muscular chest. Carlos shook himself and tried to focus on the positives. “If it’s any consolation dear,” he said half-heartedly but with an ever-growing charismatic and determined smile, “if everyone’s there… we’ll be able to find that guy you gave your scarf to.” Carlos wakes up alongside his fiancée ( Mostly Harmless (flufflepuff)) at a quarter to 11AM. They hear Mayhitch's orders on the radio - orders that have been playing every fifteen minutes since 6AM - and realize they only have an hour to be ready and by the mentioned spot on the wall for the funeral, which is to start at half past noon ((if this time conflicts with anyone else's timing tell me I can always change it)). He really doesn't like the fact it's mandatory as everyone gathered together in one place seems dangerous, especially with the resistance on the rise... but at least, he suggests to Laurie, the guy she gave her scarf to will also be there.
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Post by Ginz ❤ on Jun 20, 2015 23:53:31 GMT -5
The previous day…"Do you know anything about the writing on the wall? I only heard about it today on the radio." Rusty asked.“No. That’s all I know too.” Leira let out a long sigh. “I wish I knew more, though! Not necessarily about the writing, but about the world. I also feel like there has got to be more to life than this! What’s really outside, I wonder? I can’t believe that it’s as terrible as everyone says! I won’t believe it until I see it with my own eyes. I mean, don’t get me wrong. Life has been good to me as well, but…” she trailed off. Later that day, the two girls parted ways. And although Leira hadn’t learnt anything new, she was happy to have made a new friend who understood her. Life was good. What could possibly go wrong? Today…A mandatory funeral service was dismal enough by itself, but the fact that the deceased was a kid made it much worse. On top of how upset she had been to hear about the death, Leira had her father to deal with. Her father had always been overprotective, but the incident had sent him into over-drive. He wouldn’t stop talking about how she was just a child too, and that if these people were targeting young people, she should definitely keep away from the wall from now on, or better yet, not leave the house at all! The whole idea was ridiculous. Leira might be afraid, but she was not helpless. Not to mention, she was not a child. She was already sixteen. And keeping away from the wall? To her, that was like asking her not to breathe. Why didn’t her father understand? She put on the only black dress she owned, and slid on her special rock in one of the pockets, in case she ran into Rusty at the funeral. She wanted to show it to her. Upon arriving to the funeral, Leira waited for the first chance to sneak away from her father. It came soon enough, as one of his father’s co-workers greeted him, and the two men became engrossed in a conversation about—who knows. Leira didn’t stick around long enough to find out. She scanned the crowd, looking for familiar faces. She was hoping to see Rusty, but she was nowhere to be found, at least not from where Leira was standing. But she spotted a girl on crutches who looked to be around her age, so she approached her to see if she could strike a conversation. “Hi, I’m Leira. Are you okay?” she asked. But then a frightening thought crossed her mind. “Wait… the rebellion didn’t do that to you, did they?” she said, looking at her crutches. Was it true that they were targeting young people after all? A chill ran through her body just thinking about it. Yesterday: Leira tells Stephanie (swordlilly) that she doesn't know anything about the writing on the wall, but that she wishes she knew more about the outside world. They become friends. Today: Leira and her father find out about the death of Coaster, and subsequent mandatory funeral service. Leira is exasperated at her father being super overprotective because he thinks the resistance must be targeting young people. They go to the funeral (where Leira hopes to run into Stephanie (swordlilly) to show her her special rock), but since she can't find her, she tries to strike up a conversation with Avery, wondering if she's walking on crutches because the Rebellion attacked her or something! =O
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Post by Liou on Jun 21, 2015 2:54:53 GMT -5
Victoria buried her head under her pillow, but the sharp rapping on her door did not stop. With a groan, she wrapped herself in her blanket and staggered over to the door, opening it by a few inches before her mother could try to come in. "Why so early," she moaned. "It's still dark." "Be ready as soon as you can, and look your best for the Council." "Fine... I just need to freshen up, shouldn't take too long." Stifling a yawn, Victoria peered at her reflection in the mirror above her dressing table. "Ugh, yes, actually it might." Her mother was already hurrying away, half-dressed and running a comb through her hair. Victoria slumped against the wall, but quickly perked up. Looking her best was something that she did naturally. Indeed, it took her less than half an hour to make her way to the living area, wearing one of her favourite outfits. Her mother came in, also dressed, and eyed Victoria's clothes with an air of disbelief. "Wow, you look drab, Mum. Will this do?" "Victoria... we're going to a funeral." The girl froze in the middle of putting on her earrings. "You could have told me before!" she shrieked before storming out of the room and making sure to slam the door. A few minutes later, she had returned in a long black dress with a matching coat and hat as well as a nasty scowl. She settled at the table and helped herself to tea and toast, which her mother had made, as their housekeeper hadn't come in yet. "And who are we sending off so early?" she asked frostily while buttering her toast. "Someone got murdered, apparently," came her mother's voice from the entrance hall. "Are you kidding me?" "It isn't anyone we know. I just heard that the whole Council will be there for the memorial service. Your father's already gone ahead. Come now, we have to be there to show our support for Kay!" She huffed indignantly. "How much do I get for this occasion?" "Oh, nothing," the woman replied absently, adjusting her hat. "What do you think Kay gets from it? You can ask for rewards once you've reached a position like hers." Seeing her daughter scowl again, she added with a sigh: "Uncle May said it's mandatory, Victoria, the whole town will be there." A murder. Victoria repeated the word over and over in her head, feeling a creeping chill that had nothing to do with the cold October morning. It was inconceivable, something that could barely be spoken of. She did not dare think of what the Council could be planning, not while she was seated in the car that had unexpectedly been sent to take them to the funeral. The entire town seemed to be watching her as she stepped out of the car, all wearing the same somber, subdued expressions. The obvious stares were not the ones that bothered her. It was the surveillance of the Council's people that she felt in the air around her at all times, like a second, invisible Wall, close and thick and stifling. Victoria gave polite nods to all those she passed, keeping a dignified posture and an air of quiet sorrow. After a string of handshakes with her father's acquaintances, they finally reached the Council. Victoria's mother went to give her niece, Councilwoman Kay McGill, a warm two-handed handshake, as if the Council had lost their own child. Then it was Victoria's turn to give her oh-so-perfect cousin Kay a tense smile and a respectful nod, trying not to stare into the council member's eyes in hopes of deciphering their intentions. They remained close by the Council during the whole occasion. As if Victoria needed more practice in standing quietly and looking respectable. She gazed at the crowd, searching without much hope for more interesting sights. She couldn't believe her eyes when the youngest Nix sister somehow snuck in - why did these people always have to be so special? Even the tiny, harmless one was at it now! Uncle May was playing extremely nice, though, so everyone around had to gaze adoringly at the little angel, and with tremendous effort, Victoria managed not to sneer in front of her parents. Vic attends the funeral like a good citizen. If only something could break the monotony.
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Post by Draco on Jun 21, 2015 3:59:05 GMT -5
Life is good... At least that's what was how things were supposed to be. First a weird streetsign, now a child is dead. A child who should have had a home, but was on the street. A child who should have been in his classroom or someone else's at least. And now he was going to a funeral... Just his day. Quentin sighed as he walked to the funeral. Of course, school was canceled for the day, since everyone was supposed to show up to the sad event. Though, time would have been wiser to have the children go to school he thought. Along the way he noticed a strange person with two others. He walked over in their direction, but before he could get to them the woman was all ready leaving. He continued over anyhow and stopped at the two that remained. "Is there something wrong going on here, asked Quentin questionably." He didn't like getting into issues with people, but he really didn't want to go to the funeral. So maybe speaking to these two would slow the progress a bit. Quentin reflects on the way things are in town a bit before heading out to the funeral. Along the way he sees, Sebastian McKenzie ( Jayeee) speaking to Fortune ( PFA) and Ivan ( Celestial). Well, more like speaking to the first rather then the later... He heads over to speak to them, and Fortune leaves, leaving the three men standing together.
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Post by Mostly Harmless (flufflepuff) on Jun 21, 2015 12:22:02 GMT -5
Toasty. Very toasty. Oh and there's a pair of even toastier arms around her that's nice, that's very nice. Then he kissed her, gently, on the lips. Laurie opened her eyes and grinned. Well good morning, you.
Fog slowly escaped her mind as memories of the night before returned. They hadn't found the guy with the scarf, so Laurie delivered the message anyway without being paid. Such was a miniscule sacrifice if the price was being with her protector and roommate and mind twin forever? A minuscule price indeed. Laurie slid into another turtleneck and padded her way to the kitchen--which was half of the living room/bedroom. Looking at a still-groggy Carlos, Laurie began preparing her special herbal tea for her, and another blend of tea for him. Something a lot less bitter was more his style. The radio flipped on--must've been him--and Laurie tuned it out. Her morning cleanse needed to go uninterrupted, but she was so used to it, she could do things with her hands while keeping her mind completely blank save for one or two items. She hummed a long, quiet, steady note, focusing on the image of a cloud as her hands moved mechanically to prepare the tea. It would be nice to be a cloud, looming over everyone, lazily stretching and catching sun...life was good here, but maybe the secret of life itself was in the clouds-- ****!
It was quiet, and came from another room over, but that got her attention. Sure enough, Carlos almost came running over to Laurie, holding the radio. “Shoot. An innocent girl, victim to the resistance,” Carlos told her.Laurie forgot the clouds and focused on keeping the ceramic mugs from falling in her weakened shock. Ceramic was hard to come by, after all. A little girl...killed? Murdered? What kind of monster would do such a thing? Laurie stuffed her head into her shirt again, breathing in warm air. Poor little dear. No child deserved to be murdered. We've got to get moving. The funeral's really soon. Right. Of course. Laurie took her head out and slid on a skirt. It didn't look terribly fancy, but it would have to do. She clipped on hoop earrings--piercings were so bad for the chakra--and boiled the water. "We'll have to take it to go," She told Carlos. At least one part of life had to be consistent. The waffles were done, though. "We'll take them, too." But...what if someone wanted the waffles and attacked them? Since the child murder Laurie felt they had to be careful. "Let's finish them here." Carlos looked really tense. His cheek muscle was twitching slightly and he looked deep in thought. Probably guessing the mechanics of the resistance to protect them. He was smart like that. Laurie sighed and curled her arms around his chest, rocking slightly, trying to send him some calming energy. There was little to spare, but he needed it. The energy seemed to help. “If it’s any consolation dear,” His smile was a little crooked, she noticed. “if everyone’s there… we’ll be able to find that guy you gave your scarf to.”*** Laurie gripped Carlos's shoulder like a kid clinging to his mom's leg. She'd protect him too. No one seemed to accost them, but there were so many people heading in the same direction. They're just like lemmings...we're just like lemmings....I hope not. Better think positive. She scanned the crowd for the guy with her yellow scarf. I really hope I don't lose my job for this. Carlos, what do you--
Carlos didn't get to answer her, or if he did, she didn't hear, for something else caught Laurie's attention. “Wait… the rebellion didn’t do that to you, did they?” Laurie saw a girl on crutches and her stomach dropped--mostly out of pity, but also at the thought she couldn't suppress no matter how much qi she applied: they only went after young folk....oh dear. The woman who'd asked that question and the girl on crutches looked alarmed. Frightened, even. Just like her. The girl especially looked distressed. Laurie looked down at her tea. Not having it would drastically upset her daily balance, but anyone could argue that said balance had already been upset. Yes, the tea would do better with the girl than with her. It'd be a most subtle way to fight the Resistance. "The herbs in here promote healing," she said, handing the girl her mug. "I can list everything in here off the top of my head. Brewed it myself, you know. Say, what did happen to you...?" Laurie wakes up with Carlos ( RielCZ) in her arms, and panics a little after hearing the news of Arlie's ( Coaster) death over the radio. With not much time to spare, Laurie and Carlos head towards the funeral, which is where everyone's going. That's scary. Laurie notices Cara( Avery) on crutches and Leira ( Ginz ❤) asking about them. Laurie gives Cara her tea because it has medicinal purposes and therefore, healing a potential victim is a subtle way of fighting the resistance. Aww yeah.
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Post by Avery on Jun 21, 2015 13:06:10 GMT -5
“Hi, I’m Leira. Are you okay?” she asked. But then a frightening thought crossed her mind. “Wait… the rebellion didn’t do that to you, did they?” she said, looking at her crutches.Caraway Nix turned toward the girl who'd wandered up beside her. Leira. Gods, she'd been in school with Leira since the two of them were but children! For a moment it stung that Leira did not seem to know who she was, but then Cara let out a resigned sigh because of course she was used to it, she was so average and plain and boring that why should Leira remember her? Cara was just lucky her own family remembered who she was, especially now that she was wounded and useless! "No, the rebellion didn't do it," she replied stoically. "I um... tripped. Yes. I tripped, you see. Because I am so very clumsy." Her eyes traveling up and down Leira's form, Cara realized that her classmate looked very healthy and well-fed, like a cow just before you slaughter it and it is delicious! Not of course that Cara would slaughter Leira, but... clearly the girl was eating well. Clearly her family was better off than the poor starving Nixes, who were now going to starve extra double triple because of Cara's tragic injury. ... an idea occurred to Caraway. "You see that girl up there?" she asked, subtly nudging her chin toward Rosemary, who was still standing with Uncle May. "That's my baby sister. She is sweet and innocent, like an angel. And I'm all she has in this world, since our mama is dead and our father, is umm..." She considered. "... He's not around. And I am so wounded, so now I can't provide her, either. Isn't that tragic? Wouldn't it be so noble if someone else were to help her get by, once I am starved to death? Otherwise, why..." A glossy tear pricked in Cara's eye. "Otherwise she might end up like poor Arlie Brook." "The herbs in here promote healing," she said, handing the girl her mug. "I can list everything in here off the top of my head. Brewed it myself, you know. Say, what did happen to you...?"Cara looked toward the woman, frozen. Just like the person who'd found her climbing the Wall yesterday, this was someone she knew by face but not name-- certainly not well enough to not gasp in dramatic shock when the woman promptly foisted a mug of steaming tea into Cara's hands. She nearly dropped it, on account of the fact that she was just so clumsy, but fortunately managed not to because after all that would just attract attention. "I tripped and fell," she stammered. "And um. Thanks for the tea but... I cannot pay you, madam. I am poor, you see. An orphan! It's very tragic, I know." Cara is momentarily sad that Leira ( Ginz ❤) does not recognize her but then again she's used to it. Once she notes that Leira looks very well-fed, she subtly insinuates Leira should take care of Rosemary once Cara is starved to death. She is then surprised by Laurie ( Mostly Harmless (flufflepuff)) and tries to reject the tea, explaining that she is a poor orphan who can't pay for it.
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Post by Thundy on Jun 21, 2015 15:37:54 GMT -5
((A collab with the help of Avery)) It had been a long time since Sampson had ridden in a car and the speed made him momentarily dizzy, but in a few short minutes, he was deposited at the radio station where an aide quickly ushered him inside the building. “Okay, Uncle May is already there and prepared for the broadcast, we go live in 5 minutes,” The aide said quickly. This was highly unusual, the sun was still not yet up, yet the radio station's lights were all burning brightly, clearly strings were being pulled for this broadcast to go out. The aide shoved a file of papers into Sampson's hands. “These are your questions, they arrived by wire from the Council -directly- only a few minutes ago.” Of course in this situation, even given the great trust that was placed in Sampson, the council weren't taking any chances with what they were allowing on the airwaves. His leg twitched again, but he was able to keep pace until he reached the broadcast room. Upon entering, Mayhitch Frinkett was sitting coolly in his chair, as he had done for seasons and seasons before. Sampson was used to dealing with the head of the council on a regular basis as a part of his work and even then before that, since he received the wounded in action badge, known as the Blood of the Wall from his hands all those years ago. The were only seconds to go before the interview, the coda of Safe Behind the Wall playing out over the monitor speakers, so there was no time for formalities. Sampson nodded to the esteemed leader of the council and took his seat behind the control panel, keying the transmit button. “Good morning citizens! We are interrupting our regular broadcast to bring you some breaking news live from the studio, I'm here with the head of the council himself, that's right, Uncle May is here with a developing news story that has shocked the town! So Uncle May, there have been a lot of ugly rumours circulating, what's actually happened?" “Good morning, Mr. Thorpe, thank you for having me on your show. And while I hate to be the bearer of bad news, it is with a heavy heart this morning that I must confirm the violent death of one of our citizens. Young Arlie Brook, a sweet and innocent child, was murdered last night by members of the brutal, senseless, and callous Resistance.” “Why only a child? Only the worst sort of despicable monsters would stoop that low. It worries me that some people in this town could be so heartless. Perhaps you can tell us more about the innocent victim and whether the are any leads as to the identity of the murderer? “It worries me, too, Sampson - I was truly sick when I heard the news. The innocent victim was a young child who’d done no wrong, and was merely at the wrong place at the wrong time. She was shot in the back by a coward - yes, a child shot in the back! As of yet, we have no leads, unfortunately, other than Resistance; we IMPLORE our listeners to please come forward with any known information.” “You are, of course, correct Uncle May, we must always strive to protect the safety of our state, no matter what the cost, especially when the lives of mere children are on the line. I have been informed that there will be a state funeral held today, of course all of us here at KMLV will be there to attend and pay our respects, where and when will the service be held?” “That is correct, Sampson. The Council kindly requests and requires the presence of all town members at the Wall by the Gate, at ten o’ clock this morning, so that we may all remember poor Arlie Brook and find solace in the comfort of our friends and neighbours.” “Sometimes it is the most tragic of circumstances that brings us all together, Uncle May, a service like this makes me be proud to be a citizen of Melville, because we most certainly take care of our own. Reverting back to a previous statement of mine earlier, what measures will the council be taking to ensure that the culprit is brought to justice, will there be an increase of funding to the city guard?" “Yes, the Guard will be mobilized in extra force to ensure such vile things do not happen again. The town ought not have to live in fear because of a few bad eggs.” “Well I for one will be able to sleep easy tonight knowing I've got the Council and the guard watching over all of us. Before we go to our broadcast of music in memorial of Arlie Brook, do you have any last words for the citizens of Melville?” “Well, I just want to let them know that we WILL bring these perpetrators to justice. We will not stand for violence in our town! And as always, please know that Uncle May is here for you if ever you need anything - a listening ear, a shoulder to cry on. I feel this loss as vividly as though Arlie were my own child.” “Well Uncle May, thank you very much for coming on the program to put all our minds at ease. In times like these, it's good to know we all have a friend like you beside us. Coming up next we've got the classic song of Melville remembrance, "O Bury Me By That Gate" by Wally Bruce.” The transmission ceased, and Sampson slowly rose from his chair to shake the hand of Mayhitch. Okay that's it then May, I'm sure everyone will be feeling a lot better now after hearing it directly from you. Thanks again for the ride this morning, I doubt I would have made it in. Leg's playing up something fierce,” Sampson said, giving it a quick rub. “Thanks for setting this up so swiftly, Sampson. I’ll see you at the memorial, I do hope?” Said Mayhitch, pausing for a moment to nod some invisible order to the officer of the guard accompanying him. “Of course, you can count on me being there. Even though everyone in the town should be there, we'll be bringing the mobile transmitter and a few microphones so it'll go out to even the invalids in the hospital or guards patrolling the ramparts. But before I go, I have a slightly personal question to ask you. Knowing my position now and what happened the last time the resistance popped up, should I have anything to worry about?” Sampson said with private worry. Although no threats had been made against him personally, reason seemed to suggest that any villain that had no qualms with shooting a child had certainly no qualms with shooting the voice of Melville. “Off the record? I wouldn't go walking around after dark on your own, Sampson. And if you notice anything… unusual… please do report it to the Guard. You’re the voice of our town, and I don’t need anything happening to you. But of course, this can’t get around. We don’t want to panic the town now, do we?” “Oh of course, of course. I could certainly give it a good go of holding my own against an assailant, the old training still has a grip in my mind at least. But anyway, thank you again Uncle May, I am certain you will be able to do away with these violent criminals.” Mayhitch nodded and the guard whispered something in his ear, without another word the two departed, no doubt with a multitude of important affairs to conduct following this murder. Sampson slumped in his chair. A possible target? He had faced the resistance once before, and came away with a permanent leg injury as a result. Internally, he began to worry. Sampson has an early interview with Uncle May, who has some bad news for the town
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Post by Liou on Jun 21, 2015 15:38:12 GMT -5
Once the bulk of the speeches had been said, Victoria at long last managed to sneak out of the mingling that followed among the upper classes of Melville. All those snobs had the ability to be even more obnoxious together than individually. The young lady was in dire need of an outlet for all the displeasure she had accumulated during the long ceremony. She scanned the crowd, searching for her favourite targets, but none of them were in the vicinity. It must be close to noon. She might as well grab some refreshments, and admire - no, observe the floral arrangements on the way. The lanterns, food and flowers had been delivered so fast. She wondered who had been granted the honour of providing them this time. The flowers would not be too hard to trace, she realised, wrinkling her nose at an earthy, rather rustic scent that wafted over the canapes. Victoria leaned towards the woman who seemed to be the source of the smell. "So you're the one who brought in all the flowers, right?" she said with an earnest smile. "That's very impressive! And you do all that yourself, wow, all that exercise at your age, that's great. I'm glad that they called you here, I'm all for encouraging people who, you know, work with dirt. I mean, someone has to." She gestured in what she considered a discreet fashion at some of the earth that still clung to the woman. Having thus generously complimented the flower lady, Victoria let her eyes wander over some of the nearest floral pieces, pursing her lips. "Is that really your best work, though? You see, I'm planning a... gift, for someone, something to really wow them, and everyone around, if you know what I mean. I can put in the money... but I want to make sure I'm only buying the best there is." The person she was thinking of treating was, of course, herself, and the money would surely be her parents'. She had to get some sort of compensation for sitting through this royal pain of a ceremony. Victoria goes to be nice to Huntress and asks her what's the best thing she has to sell, yaaay
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Post by Fraze on Jun 21, 2015 16:51:37 GMT -5
The previous dayWelp, Jensa's plan to take Laffz's game into her own hands didn't work. She returned home, taking some time to pick apart the underground textile mafia before having dinner and going to bed. The day after the previous dayJensa liked to have breakfast and chip away at conspiracies before going to work. Since she had to start performing during the morning commute when the most people were out and about, this meant she got up very early in the morning. She was usually up before the sun, and hardly ever heard anyone else awake. Which meant it was very strange that so many people were up and about today. Was there a festival she had forgotten about? She certainly hoped not, since that would have been a great opportunity for a bigger performance - maybe even with an actual stage and the help of the Council! But looking out her windows at the somber people in grim clothing, it was clear that wasn't the case. Turning on the radio, she heard the new. A real conspiracy? With real murders? Nope. Nope. Nope. This was definitely not something Jensa wanted in her life. There were several hours before the funeral, but she clearly wouldn't be able to focus on her hobby, she had a quick breakfast, dressed in the closest she had to funeral-appropriate clothes, and headed out. A funeral wasn't exactly an appropriate place to ply her trade, but she spent a while performing in the town square while people milled around nervously. When everyone drifted toward the funeral, she followed. She stayed toward the edge of the crowd, so that she could get back to the town square as soon as possible before everyone started filing into their workplaces. The same day as above, but somewhere elseFar above Melville, there was a small wisp of cloud. It was always there. It was there when the sky was otherwise completely clear and the sun shone directly overhead. It was there in the middle of thunderstorms, when the sky was a forbidding muddy gray. It wasn't always in the same place, and it wasn't always the same shape, as is the nature of clouds. But it was always there. A house was perched on top of the cloud. It was exactly what one might expect a house on a cloud to look like: walls of puffy white vapor and a sloped ceiling of the same. There was a front porch, which was only differentiated from the rest of the cloud by a vague notion of a staircase, carved out of fluffy whiteness. On the porch was a rocking chair. It wasn't made of cloud. What sort of rocking chair is made of cloud? Young people these days with their crazy notions. No, a good sturdy rocking chair is made of wood. Sitting on the rocking chair was a ghost. The man the ghost had once been had lived to a ripe old age, and he had been dead for twice as long as he had been alive. Nobody currently living in Melville would have recognized the ghost. Not personally, anyway. Any who saw him might only have acknowledged him as "that old ghost guy." Eternity on a cloud is a slow sort of eternity, but that suited him just fine. He sat on his porch, overlooking the town. It was small people milling about doing small things, most of which never amounted to anything. A microcosm. An ant farm. This was his one pleasure, and the only thing he had in his non-life. "Rebellion's started again," he grumbled to nobody. " N' they aren't doing a very good job of it." He eased himself up off the chair and stepped into the house to make a pot of tea. "Those council hacks aren't doing any better. Maybe they'll just off each other and be done with it. Probably won't. No guts. None of 'em remember what this town stood for." Jensa finds out about the murder and is all Then we meet a ghost who's all except he's actually on the cloud. ((Anyone who gets turned into a ghost and wants to bug the old guy can go ahead! I shouldn't make NPCs. No one should. Don't do NPCs, kids.))
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