Channel One Broadcasting ArchivesNOTE: All posts below are the property of the Staff of RFC, on behalf of their original authors.
Message: 20/1 Sunday, April 18, 1999Press Conference (Part 1)
Interrupting the regularly scheduled evening show on Thor's Day, Julius 12th, 107PA:News Channel One Reporter Jhartha Fjekkat takes up for Walter, as he busies himself listening intently to the press conference in session at City Hall. "Just half an hour ago, Councilwoman Del Reyhart hosted a special press meeting." The camera cuts away to an interior shot of the city's government building, aimed towards a raised area that includes a podium and microphone set up, behind which stands Rooke in decidedly casual clothing. Just off to the side, the familiar (or not) figure of Ash stands under a sprawling clump of greenery and encourages Rooke with smiles.
Against a stately background of moulded walls and giant ferns, she clears her throat and begins speaking, amid popping flashbulbs and low murmurs in the foreground. Rooke pauses for only a moment, before beginning what seems to be an unplanned speech, as she stops once and a while to search for words within herself. The microphone whines with feedback for a few moments, before adjusting. "It's been a year and a half now, since the defeat of the Coalition, and the end of the occupation that left Tolkeen in tatters, but also in freedom. During that time, we've pulled together and rebuilt this wonderful, mighty city-state, and re-established our identity as protectors of the oppressed, and keepers of a mixed culture and peace almost lost to this world."
Walter stands patiently amidst a crowd of reporters in front of the stage. A few of the news beings begin tapping quickly into small hand-held computers while others remain riveted to the councilor and the contents of her speech.
Rooke lets out a slow breath, then draws it back in, her expression alert and leaderly, though the more observant might notice that she grips the sides of the podium with tense, whitened hands. She continues, her rusty voice gaining a ringing quality. "The economy is back in full-swing; perhaps even better than ever, as we of Tolkeen have proven ourselves undefeatable even by the greatest of odds. Our grand old buildings of learning, culture, and art, and magic.. restored, and back to prominence amongst Tolkeen's main attractions, and great strengths. Our show of strength against adversity has drawn the support of the surrounding kingdoms, and we can once more be considered one of the major forces of the land, standing against those who would sweep a blight of prejudice and violence over our homes and land. Of all these things, you should be proud.. proud of yourselves for coming this far, and determined to continue the legacy of freedom and peace that our fallen citizens and countrymen, among those former Council Brimstone and the Dirksens, fought for. It is at this point in the making of our history, that I will be leaving Council." She pauses a moment, looking over the blur of expectant faces for their reaction.(continued)
Message: 20/2 Sunday, April 18, 1999Jhartha Fjekkat's fellow anchor Walter Riely raises his hand to be allowed to ask a question, but is drowned out as the other reporters, as if in unison, utter a rush a startled murmers. A babble of impromptu questions are flung at Rooke with no concern for decorum. The bobbing heads of the reporters jostle about frantically, their questions mixing together to create a incoherent jumble of speech.
Ash stands rooted to his spot, book dangling forgotten in his hands. He blinks with a surprised expression, lips parting slightly in shock. Closing his mouth once more, he looks upon Rooke with expressive gray eyes and flashes her a brief warm, reassuring look.
Rooke shakes her head slightly, closing her eyes to block out the flashing from camera bulbs and the sight of all the shocked faces. She starts speaking, still reserved and quiet, in a bid to force the volume of the babble down enough to hear her words. "I.. came to Tolkeen only six months before war was declared, but at that point my heart was already endeared to the people and the culture of the city. And when the reigns of control were suddenly, inexplicably.. passed over to Corvus Lynx, Damion Blane, and myself, I accepted out of love for Tolkeen, and a sense of duty towards the survivors, and to honour the fallen by striving to keep the city alive and help it recover." She opens her grey eyes wider now, a gloss of tears making them shimmer under the lighting. "The recovery is over.. Tolkeen continues, a free and independent city-state, of which you have all played a part in keeping that ideal alive." Her gaze flickers to the side, focusing perhaps on Ash Benson, who stands encouragingly to the side, a giant fern monster menacing him from behind. She continues. "I am pleased to have served you all, worked alongside you, towards these goals. But my time as Council is over now. I name as my successor a being who has been in Tolkeen for twenty long years, almost a life-time for me... Paco'genefresn-ap-hesla. Many of you from the western sectors will know him as the wise Elder Grey who provided counsel and support during all those bleak months of recovery last year." She looks to the side, gesturing at a tall, willowy, robed figure near the other end of the stage, standing there calmly and gently refusing to mount the stage.
Walter starts to raise his hand again, as Rooke adds after a moment of silence, "That's all.. are there any questions?"
Cameras and recording equipment swivel like turrets towards the robed figure. Flash bulbs illuminate the Elder Grey in explosions of light. Assuming the being won't be speaking anytime today, the reporters turn their attention back to Rooke. The barrage of questions once again bark and bellow to Rooke for more answers. Queries, some odd and others downright outrageous are asked. 'Is there a specifc reason why you've stepped down?' 'Is it regarding your recent absence from town?' 'Are you being blackmailed by any underground organizations?' 'Is any romantic involvement tearing you away from council?'
Rooke blinks, a bit startled for a moment by some of the questions, before she waves her hand for order. "Please.. one at a time. I'll answer those, but then, you'll have to take turns, ladies.. gentleman.. gentlebeings.." She pauses and clears her throat, before continuing, "As I've already stated, I believe I've served my time, and helped bring Tolkeen to a point where I can safely step down. I have never had political aspirations, nor was I ever trained for this position.. I served in a time of necessity, and now will turn the position over to wiser, more capable hands." She pauses slightly, recalling the next question. Her eyes narrow slightly, and she lingers a bit in her thoughts over the question. ".... and no.. my absence has nothing to do... with my decision to step down. Uh... there's no underground involvement," she continues a bit rapidly, blinking again. "As to romantic involvement.." she chuckles nervously. "That's not really a relevent question to this subject... next question?"(continued)
Message: 20/3 Sunday, April 18, 1999Walter Riely once again tries to get Rooke's attention, but is once again drowned out by other rude reporter persons. 'Is it true you and the other councilors are having personality conflicts?' 'Is this decision effective immediately?' 'What will you plan to do now?'
Ash crosses his arms across his chest, fern hanging over him like some deranged green vulture. He watches Rooke intently, gray eyes wide and supportive. He smiles a tight, comforting little smile as the reporters about him harass the former Councilwoman with questions.
Rooke sighs a little, smiling patiently as she reiterates, "Let's keep some order, folks.. those who have a question, please raise your hand, and I'll get to you in order of turns.. but again, I will answer the questions at hand." She leans a bit more heavily against the podium, and takes a breath. "My relationships with my fellow Council have nothing to do with my decision to step down. By definition, we three have conflicting views at times, reflecting our looking after the different needs of the city when making decisions. Perhaps Councilor Blane and I have been rather vocal at times in our disagreements, but I assure you all.. we work for the good of Tolkeen." Something behind her eyes flickers, then goes dormant, unspoken. "Yes.. I have formally submitted notice of my departure from Council, and have been working hard this week on finishing what work was under my responsibility currently. As for what I will be doing now..." She pauses, frowning slightly. "I'm not quite sure.. but I -will- still for the most part run my arts and entertainment center, Random Acts.." She finishes and looks over the throng for a raised hand.
Walter raises his hand to ask a question, luckily beating out a few others to the punch. Rooke nods to Walter, raising her voice a bit. "Yes.. Channel One.. Walter Riely?"
Walter pipes up from within the mob of reporters. "What about you being named the Chosen One by The Oracle? The Coalition is still encroaching on our territory. Don't you think that Tolkeen still needs you?"
Rooke falls silent, the breath leaving her for a few moments, and the blood alternately leaves her face, then surges back in a flush of tawny colour. She stares at Walter, then beyond him to the front doors of City Hall, perhaps planning her escape. Finally, coming back to herself, she shakes her head and mutters, "No... The Oracle was wrong. I'm not the Chosen One."
Walter falls silent to let his cameraman absorb the reaction. The gaggle of reporters gawk and make incredulous faces. Words of protest issue out from the mob of news beings. They scream out things like, 'But what about the White Tower?'. All in all the assembled reporters are quite livid.
Rooke narrows her eyes, a tenseness entering her posture as she grips the podium. "You misunderstand.. whatever happened before.. you.. musn't rely on prophecy.. musn't depend on things like destiny. You all saved this city, you of the occupation.. you all restored this city, you of the recovery.." She glares out at the reporters and into the cameras earnestly, forelocks brushing across her face as she bows her head forward. "You did, by your own will.. not some god's." Oooookkkay. Blasphemy-time.. but fortunately, the arched ceiling of City Hall is made of some pretty stern stuff. Lightning bolts wouldn't be able to poke their way through so easily.(continued)
Message: 20/4 Sunday, April 18, 1999Walter Riely is overwhelmed in the confusion, as the reporters babble a mass of protests and words. '....white light from the Tower!' '...CS utterly defeated...' 'The Prophecy!!'. Whatever manner of Q&A that existed before is demolished and descends into an anarchy of furious ramblings.
Ash looks around at the unruly mob that seems be forming around him with growing concern, and edges closer to the podium. Letting his arms fall to dangle at his sides, book held tightly in the fingers of his left hand, he looks up to Rooke, worry creasing his features.
Rooke bears down on the podium for a moment, looking about to rend the elegant wooden structure apart. Her eyes blaze with frustration and anger at the state of the Hall, and she growls out, "Enough... one last time.. I am -not- the Chosen One. The only destiny that matters is the one you make for yourselves! ...this meeting... is over!" She tears away from the podium and -jumps- down into the milling crowd, colliding with Ash. She grabs his free hand and -plows- through the throng of reporters, heading for the door. Trying to, anyway.
Walter gets bowled over and staggers under the mass that tries to follow Rooke. The reporters stab their fingers into the sky and waggle their tongues, demanding and pleading for more information of Rooke as she moves through the crowd. None of the news beings dare impede her progress directly and thus her path through the mob isn't hindered very badly. The level of noise inside the mass of reporters is quite high, everybody venting questions and trying to raise their voice about their comrades.
Ash grips Rooke's hand tightly and uses a body toned hard by years of soldiering to its best advantage, shouldering his way through the crowd while doing his best to protect Rooke from similar treatment. A grim expression falls over his face as he pushes through the unruly mob. Looking down to Rooke he smiles a quick, wordless smile and makes his way out the front.
Rooke keeps her chin up defiantly, but watches a cleared spot near the door fixedly, as flashbulbs and microphones chase at a safe distance. As they pass beyond the Channel One cameraman, the picture cuts back to the News-room, and Jartha looks alertly into the camera, stating that more news will be available later as the details are sorted out.Announcer: "We now return to your regularly scheduled program."
Message: 20/5 Wednesday, June 2, 1999Trial: Hawthorn VS Blane
Aired for a week sometime in Late Autumn, 107PAThe Channel One Logo replaces the face of Sally Jherfy Donnatello, as she denounces the D-Bee sitting on the front stage as a lying sack of scum. An announcer's voice comes over saying, "We interrupt your regularly scheduled program for this special broadcast... Reporting live from the Channel One Studios, here is Walter Riely.."
Walter Riely appears, along with a caption over his left shoulder reading, "On Trial:" The reporter begins speaking, "We take you live to the Tolkeen Municipal Courts, where City Councilman Damion Blane has been accused of attempted murder against Doctor Jeremy Hawthorne the Third, of the Tolkeen Medical Center." He disappears and gets replaced by a scene from the courtroom, filled with a number of spectators and reporters that occupy seats near the back of the room. Two separate areas are meant for plaintiff and defendant, on the right and left of the Magistrates' bench, respectively. All three seats behind the bench are currently filled.
Magistrate Salindros scrabbles to get ahold of the gavel before him and grips it firmly. As the other two magistrates sit patiently. He raises his head and whacks the gavel sharply against the bench. He bellows, "This case will now come to order! Now..." He shuffles papers before him. "...The case of Jeremy Hawthorne versus Damion Blane." He peers down at Damion and asks, "Mr. Blane. You are charged with counts of attempted murder and assault and battery. Before we go any further...I have notice that you intend to bring up counter charges against Mr. Hawthorne. Is this accurate?"
Damion nods, "Correct, he used a weapon in the fight and that's as illegal as anything else I've heard of" The camera zooms in onto his face, and beneath him a caption reading, "Damion Blane, Tolkeen City Councilman" appears.
The Camera returns to the magistrates, Magistrate Kasgoth's shoulders droop quickly as he takes a quick breath. His eyes drift over to Damion's position as he speaks, giving the impression of intent listening as he watches silently.
Magistrate Salindros speaks in a voice that carries to all corners of the courtroom. "At this time statements will be heard from all parties involved, with any supporting evidence presented to the bench."
Salindros clears his throat. "All parties involved are of course sworn to tell the nothing but the truth. Gentlemen, please keep your statements free of hearsay. Stick to the facts. Mr. Hawthorne will begin by telling us what happened the day of the alleged incident."
Jeremy rises and speaks: "Mmm, Doctor Jeremy Michael Hawthorne the Third, Hospital Administrator and Surgeon at Tolkeen Medical Centre. My citizenship papers were actually filed at the Tolkeen City Hall, so Im not exactly sure if theyre still extant. If required, I do have duplicates in my office safe. I also have citizenship papers filed with the City-State of Lazlo, where Im a Naturalized Citizen." A caption appears beneath him as well, restating the doctors words.
He continues, "I understand I also am still a citizen some town in England somewhere, but I fear you wouldn't know the name, and its a bit of a moot point, anyway. Let me begin this, my statement for the Tolkeen Municipal Courts: It was on the evening of Decembre the 11th, year one-hundred-and-six by the post-apocalyptic calendar. It was later in the evening. I remember it well. I had just left a late shift at the hospital, and was accordingly a bit tense. I'd had a few matters come up missing shipments, damaged parts that I needed to consult with Councilor Del Reyhart about..."
Walter Riely interjects as the long winded doctor rambles on, "You are listening to Doctor Jeremy Hawthorne, III as he gives his account of what happened that night."
Jeremy explains, "So, I arrived at the intersection of Lazlo Avenue and Freedom Way, near the establishment owned by one Kiana, the Succubus. Thats actually where I spotted the Councilor. I ran to follow her, and a bit of taut-nerved parley ensued. A bit of the ol' back-and-forth between us, as always. Some of it not quite as light-hearted as it could be, of course, but I meant no ill-will by it, certainly. Anyone who knows myself and Rooke could tell you that I certainly am more fond of the girl than I am of myself, sometimes...
"...There was a bit more parley, then, there were three gunshots back at the street. So, we pushed our troubles aside and rushed back to see what the trouble was. Apparently, Damion had fired off some rounds at an errant hovercycle belonging to a Militia member who was going a bit too fast. There was some high-tempers involved there, as well, as I remember it. Quite the scene. I missed quite a bit of it, honestly... ...I remember the conversation then diverted to a discussion of the state of the fledgling Tolkeen City Police Department. I made a negative comment or two...
"...Damion then remarked to me that I shouldn't make pokes at an armed man. With that, I then replied that he wasn't what I was criticizing. Just that he was a bit sociopathic which I didn't see as a problem, as long as he recognized his limits and such. He then motioned me aside to talk. I went with him, trying to do the gentlemanly thing. I suspected something was wrong, and commented that this was my belief. That's when the fellow lashed out with a rather savage kick towards my middle. He told me, in no uncertain terms, that he meant to give me a lesson. Thankfully, the kick was a miss. Then, attempting to see to my own safety, I lashed out with a palm strike, aided by a concealed palm needle (an implant I've registered at the Tolkeen Medical Center, loaded that evening with a light sleep agent, (a preventative measure I often take)...
"...I do remember that I wound up landing a lucky blow and emptying a full load of sleep-toxin into him. Possibly another--I think that was how much it took to put him down permanently. Once that was completed, he started to get angry. He picked me up in a bear-hug, and squeezed me rather painfully. Rather nearly until I burst, if I do say so myself...
"...Then, there was a kind of darkness, before I collapsed onto the pavement. He left me there and staggered back some, and I imagine I made some empty threats about the sleep agent being a lethal toxin at that point, I just wanted to confirm his fears and get him to leave me the hell alone. I felt as if my insides were fully ready to rupture. My bones ached. I assume Rooke managed to take me to the hospital."
Jeremy concludes, "Thats where I woke up, in a brace with my jaw wired closed and my ribs similarly packaged. I felt like death warmed over and it seems I nearly was. I almost died on the table, I understand. In all my time on this planet, and in the city of Tolkeen, I've never been so damn terrified. I really did believe my death was near."<continued in next post>
Message: 20/6 Wednesday, June 2, 1999Jeremy sits down and Salindros pauses a moment as he absorbs the information. Finally, the old Magistrate looks tired and turns to Damion asking, "Do you have anything to add? Perhaps in a shorter more concise fashion?"
A bailiff walks over to Jeremy's section and collects a file folder of evidence he wishes to submit to the court.
Damion says "Most of that's fairly accurate, though the shots weren't -at- a militia hovercycle as much as the driver needed it." He waves it off, "A non issue, it was handled through channels. As to the beating I gave the Doc here, I did. My only other option was to kill him in the arena and I don't like killing my friends... the man spit in my face publically and though some sneer at such things I can't. His beating spared his life which was my aim" He shrugs "In hind site I guess I should have drug him into the ring & shot him instead" During the speech he neither rises or even moves, he just looks dead into the center judges eyes as if the rest of the world did not exist... once finished he sits back and takes out a boot flask which he takes a swig from.
Magistrate Salindros looks severely at Damion. "Please refrain from boozing it up in this courtroom, Mr. Blane. Do you have any evidence to submit for the court's consideration?"
Damion nudges a folder marked with Tokeen Medical's stamp across the table "The emergency room report from the hospital, it says that I was subjected to at least two doses of a fairly powerful sedative and that the needle left rather large holes and tears across my stomach"
Salindros announces to the courtroom, "Also submitted into evidence is a video recording of the Militia's questioning of the two parties." The old Magistrate looks at another file. "No witnesses have been called by either party to speak. Unless anyone present has anything pertinent to add, the magistrates will retire to weigh the statements and evidence."
The bailiff comes forward to collect Damion's evidence. It is deposited along with Jeremy's on the Magistrate's bench.
Jeremy raises his hand and shoots back up to speak: "The man is twice my size, and twice my level of skill. I'm a surgeon. Hes a professional warrior. It is my personal belief that Damion Blane did, with malice of forethought and intent, go about bashing my head in with the attempt to do me severe harm. He took my slights to his ego far too personally, and decided, then and there, either to do me in, or just show me by means of force that he is not a man to be trifled with. It is my belief that he is a sociopath, and-"
His speech is cut short by a gesture from Magistrate Salindros, who interjects, "You are stepping into qualitative statements on mental health that, I believe, you are not qualified to make, Dr. Hawthorne. As well, your beliefs as to Mr. Blane's intent are inadmissible." He pauses once more to see if any more statements are forthcoming, but Jeremy has seated himself. Salindros rises. "We will now review the evidence and statements heard today. This court will reconvene at a later date to deliver a judgement. Until that time it is strongly suggested that Mr. Blane and Dr. Hawthorne do not interact on any level." Salindros raps his gavel loudly and the three magistrates rise to retreat to their chambers.
Walter Riely reappears as the courtroom begins to empty, saying, "You were watching the trial of Councilman Damion Blane vs. Doctor Jeremy Hawthorne the Third. The judges have convened to their chambers to deliberate the fates of these two men, and we return you now to your regulalry scheduled program. Stay tuned to Channel One for more coverage of the Trial..."Sally Jherfy Donatello reappears as the show draws to a close.. apparently she's spent the entire last half of the show berating the poor D-Bee sitting on the stage...
Message: 20/7 Wednesday, June 2, 1999Verdict: Hawthorne VS Blane
A week or so later, in the middle of Tolkeen's acclaimed cooking show, Muffe Torkel's Grand Feast, Walter Riely reappears amid dramatic music. He begins, "In several minutes, we'll take you live to the trial of Doctor Jeremy Hawthorne, III vs. Councilman Damion Blane. Council-member Blane has been accused of attempted murder, and assault and battery against the Doctor. The magistrates have finished deliberating the case, and after a recess have resumed court..." Walter disappears, but can continue to be heard as the three magistrates enter the courtroom to the usual formalities. "It looks like the magistrates are about give their findings..."
The camera focuses on both parties, briefly displaying captions giving their name and occupation. It seems that, for now, the Doctor has forgone clothing of a formalized nature. As a matter of fact, he looks as if he hadn't had time to change. He sits at his respective table, bright eyes firmly riveted on a sheaf of paper held loosely in absently trembling hands.
Damion nods slowly at the newly seated magistrates, no other reaction comes from him at all. Just the carefully blank expression of a gunfighter in yet another battle.
The noise level of the court drowns out any possible conversation, and it's obvious that the local camera crew is having some difficulty modulating the noise level and from time to time the level rises and falls as the crew attempts to catch what is said. Salindros bangs a small gavel repeatedly against his table and bellows in his scrawny voice for silence. The ambient noise from those present eventually dies down and subsides completely. Salindros clears his aged throat and speaks loud enough for all to hear. "The verdict has been reached in the case of Dr. Jeremy Hawthorne versus Council-member Damion Blane. Would both parties please rise?" One of his withered hands waves at both Jeremy and Damion to rise.
Damion stands up and nods, his thumbs loop through his belt on either side of his belt buckle as he waits.
Magistrate Kasgoth and Wyndham both rise to their feet as their fellow Magistrate prepares to give out the verdicts. Magistrate Salindros stands as well and raises an ocular device to one eye as he reads off a sheet before him. "On the charge of Assault and Battery we three do find Council-member Damion Blane guilty. On the second charge, that of attempted murder, we do find Council-member Damion Blane guilty." A roar of babbling resounds from reporters and spectators alike. Salindros attempts to silence this with fierce thwackings of his gavel. "Silence! Be quiet so I can finish!"
More stony silence from the Doc, as the camera focuses briefly on his reaction. The observant may catch a faint motion of the lips upwards, the tight clenching of a fist-He's triumphant!
Salindros frowns and continues to rap the desk until some manner of control can be established. Bailiffs look warily about them but maintain a stoic posture at their respected positions. Already some reporters have scurried off to make a semi-incomplete report.
As the camera focuses on the councilman, Damion's mouth curls into a half smile, he doesn't move and seems almost -bored- by the proceedings. As the magistrate sounds gavel he turns and holds up his hands, saying loudly "Let the man finish... so I can challenge his wisdom" Damion turns back to Salindros and gestures, "Please, continue"
Salindros clears his throat, which sounds alot like a broken blender on its last legs. "The counter charges filed against Dr. Jeremy Hawthorne by Council-member Damion Blane...The court finds these counter charges without grounds, as self defense on the doctor's part was not illegal nor the power level unreasonable." He eyes both Jeremy and Damion sternly. "Thusly, it is the judgement of this court that Damion Blane pay for Dr. Jeremy Hawthorn's medical bills and an extra fine for pain and suffering totaling 30,000 credits. If Mr. Blane becomes a repeat offender of any such serious crime again he will face much more...serious charges. Also..." His voice becomes even louder and his voice quite monotone. "In light of Damion Blane's position on council, the normal sentence of three years minimum enforced public service shall be lessened to 500 hours. However, a committee will be delegated the task of reviewing the council seat that Damion possesses and whether he is fit to hold such a title." He raps his gavel on the desk with a resounding clack. "This trial is concluded." The magistrates sits back in their chairs and look impassively over the congregation. The bailiffs wait for any adverse reactions before rising to clear the courtroom.
The courtroom remains on screen, along with the noise level as the spectators slowly make their way out the door in a noisy fashion. Walter speaks, "You were watching the trial of Chief Medical Jeremy Hawthorne versus Council-member Damion Blane. The verdict: Guilty.." As the two parties prepare to leave the courtroom, Walter stops, interrupted by the Councilman.
Damion holds up a hand, "Not so fast Salindros, your judgement is invalid... prior to the trial I said I was willing to undergo mental probes to determine my guilt or innocence, I -asked- for this... it was not done. You return a verdict without evidence now? If that is the case then I certainly accept it as you are currently a magistrate of Tolkeen." He turns to Jeremy and sighs, "You have this small bit Jeremy, and though I had wished to spare your life I find myself -required- now to challenge you to a duel in the arena. You have taken it on yourself to bring me as much grief as possible therefor I will see you legally slain by my hand... though it is not what I had wanted at all" He smiles "I will accept no champions, this is a personal matter between me and you now"
The camera quickly zooms in on the enraged Doctor...A pause...a breath caught in the chest. Jeremy turns on Damion with an absolutely incredulous look. "You simply -must- be shitting me," he intones gravely, his eyes widening with dismay. "After ... all this... you -are- mad, Blane! You think I'd take you seriously? You think I'd expect you to fight like a -gentleman- after all this? And -then- you make -conditions-?!"<continued in next post>
Message: 20/8 Wednesday, June 2, 1999At the sudden commotion in the courtroom the spectators push to get back into the courtroom, pushing against those still inside to reenter.
Damion shrugs "Want to or not, you will show up and you will fight me. How you fight is your choice"
Jeremy snorts in absolute derision, brows furrowing tightly. He brings up his hand, rattling off his counts n his fingers, his voice high and unbelieving. "-FIRST- off, it's not your case to make conditions! Secondly, Mister Blane, I don't /have/ to do anything! I'm under no obligation- to appear...and I'm /certainly/ under no obligation to fight you! Finally, who are you to tell me that you won't accept a second?! It's a time honored tradition! That's how it's been since the ring -began-! You can't just /defile it/ by forcing me into a bloody slaughter!" He begins to step towards Damion, the pressure he'd previously begun to release peacefully venting itself through a course of anger and dismay. Besides his tone of voice, however, he seems otherwise perfectly reasonable. Slow steps, small steps, hands still gesticulating too frantically to busy themselves with killing the man. "If it's your intention to murder me, Blane...do it here! In this court--Do it -now-. I won't /let you/ make it a noble, worthy thing that protects you from prosecution. If you're to massacre me, make it the cowardly, low-down, sniveling act it really is...what with witnesses and all." He sneers lightly, inclining his head, taking a stand a few steps from his seat. "Don't be a -fool- . I wouldn't right you in the Ring even if I had a second. I don't trust you to stick to the rules...cow-poke."
Salindros looks severely at Damion, seeming sourly accepting of the fact that court may not adjourn just yet. "Your opinion was not requested, Councilman Blane. A mind probe is hardly reliable when the accused is of a questionable mental state, as taped evidence and testimonies have indicated." Seeing the challenge issued and discussion of such continuing without heed for the presence of the Magistrates, Salindros scowls and raps his gavel again, half-rising from his seat. "Gentlemen, you will kindly take this challenge and all related squabble from this courtroom or be found in contempt!"
The bailiffs leap up after a moment's shock at the occurrences, and begin to enforce the final order... pushing the remaining spectators out the door and then approaching the two parties of the trial.
As the Bailiffs push the reporters out the door, the camera shuts off and Walter returns, quickly saying, "Well.. uh the bailiffs have forced our crew out of the courtroom, we'll take a moment to recap. Councilman Blane has been convicted of attempted murder, and sentenced to 500 hours of community service, and to pay 10,000 credits of restitution to Doctor Hawthorne for medical bills and traumatic suffering... Oh, we're getting word that the two parties have left the courtroom.." Walter disappears and gets replaced by a wobbly camera image of a horde of reporters converging on the two men like a pack of piranha.
The two men are arguing forcibly between each other as the push their way through the throng, Jeremy shouts at the councilman over the din, "...You opportunistic sack of shit...worthless, sick, twisted sociopathic vagrant! Villainous, traitorous mongrel..."
Damion Blane leans over and gets in the face of the doctor, saying, "...Of course, I don't make public that my salary from the council goes 100% to charity do I? You just make me stop that to pay your bills and some fine from the city I work my -ass- off for every fucking day" His finger comes up to emphasize his words "You Jeremy Hawthorne the-fucking-third are the one hurting the poor and the sick... I'm just trying to protect the people from simpering idiots -like- you!"
A grimace...a sad shake of the head as Jeremy's eyes harden. "You're...a monster. I've done so -much- for the poor...the sick...the ill! And you'd /destroy/ the hospital! Just...to kill me." He takes a pause, then, once more, spits mightily towards Damion's feet. The same action that caused this mess in the first place. "I -won't- fight you. I won't give you the satisfaction of fighting you."
The horde of reporters begins to squabble among itself, while at the same time shouting over each other trying to ask the first question and be the first to stick the microphone in one of the two's face... Sydo shoulders his way in between the anxious reporters, shouting for Damion's attention, "Councilman Blane! Councilman Blane! Can we ask you a few questions!?" The man gets pushed back by a smaller... but apparently stronger woman who asks Damion the same question.
Damion frowns at the rush of cameras then raises his hands for silence "Shut up a second and get your shit together or I won't answer anything" He allows that to sink in for a moment then turns back to Jeremy "Then quit, find something else... because I won't fund your programs Jeremy. You chose this course and now you think I'm going to give you a break after you've busted my nuts for months? You're as crazy as Salindros is..."
The reporters continue to push and shove, but the noise lessens to only a "..and you're a traitor," Jeremy states simply. His voice is hollower now, a newly kindled fire burning cold within his belly. "You claim to be the Defender...of what? Your pride." Another pause as he sneers. "Your own security. Using the hallowed seat of Councilor in order to pursue your own agenda..." He scowls yet again. "You're unfit for the seat, Blane. Step down."
Damion smiles and shakes his head, "No, I'm on the council Jeremy... that gives me every right, even the responsibility to protect the city however I can. You are a weak link in the city's services Jeremy, a cancer lurking and waiting to weaken us the next time Karl's boys come knocking on our walls... and I'm cutting you out. You want me out Jeremy" he smiles broadly and spreads his hands "remove me, it should be simple for you right?" His face becomes a neutral mask "Now you'll have to excuse me, the press wants a minute or two of my time... I -am- quite busy you know, a full day working on city business, a second full day working for the city because of your case and then a third full day's work earning my living. Get out of my face Jeremy, before you make me puke"
"Civilization is built on -civility-," Jeremy intones firmly. "Not vile -threats, bullshit, and violence. It's people like you who will make this place Karl's domain..." Jeremy gives an exasperated sigh, pacing away rather wearily. More weight settles onto his shoulders as he watches the jackals spring into action.
Damion points at Sydo. "You had something before you got run over?"
Sydo pushes the rude woman who took his place aside and starts shouting again in a poor attempt to get his voice over the other reporters... "MISTER COUNCILMAN! ARE ... REALLY ... A DUEL?!" He repeats himself as the others quiet down.. news-conference etiquette apparently kicking in. "Mister Councilman, Are you truly serious about challenging Dr. Hawthorne to a Duel?"<continued in next post>
Message: 20/9 Wednesday, June 2, 1999Damion nods, "Absolutely, there are fights daily in Tolkeen over such trivial things as pride and honor. When Hawthorne spit in my face one fine day he -earned- every lick I gave him. Now that I have been convicted of trying to murder him, a ludicrous charge from the start, I have no choice except to raise the stakes to where the good doctor apparently wanted them. Now he has his wish and is afraid to face his choices"
Jeremy makes his way to sit by himself... he finds a bench off to the side where he plunks himself down, apparently waiting for a ride. He spins the folder away from him with one hand, scattering papers about haphazardly. They spin upwards, then the sheaf comes down in a languid rain of paperwork. He settles his head into his hands, groaning softly.
The woman shoved aside rubs her shoulder a moment before being recognized by the Councilman.. she must have pulled a muscle or something in all the excitement. "Councilman Blane", she asks, "What will you do if the court decides to remove you from office?", adding quickly, "Does the court have the right to remove you from office?"
Damion chuckles, "To my knowledge they can't, there's no provision for removing a councilor other than resignation or death. Besides, they didn't bother trying did they? I've been sentenced and that's it until the next time I think"
The reporters start up again before one in the back yells, "WILL THERE BE A NEXT TIME, MISTER COUNCILMAN??!"
More silence from Jeremy as he grimly contemplates, angst-ridden and disgusted with existence. "I can't fucking -believe- this," he looks to be hissing, undertones of hatred coming with his words.
Damion smiles, "Of course there will, now that the court has set the precedent of convicting council-members regardless of evidence and procedures who -won't- be charging us with all sorts of crimes?"
In the background, Jeremy rises and steps out towards the door. He pats Hillary's desk as he passes, his valiant features paler than usual. His remarks are too quiet to be heard on the camera as he is largely ignored by the mob of reporters surrounding the councilman. He offers her a half-hearted smile. Telling her something as he leaves. He forces a laugh, then pauses at the door at the last minute...turning to coldly regard the scene.
Damion points at Sydo, "You again, what?"
Sydo asks over the din of the other reporters, "Even with the magistrate's sentance, d'you think you'll be able to devote your time to do your duties as a councilman to the best of your abilities? Are you still the "Defender" prof'sized by the Oracle, or do you deny it like former Councilwoman Del-Reyhart?"
Damion laughs "I'll be a councilman full time, as far as my being any sort of Defender I think that was spoken for today... back when people started calling me Defender I tried telling them I was an -Offender-." He shrugs "Seriously, the prophecy never said we were perfect did it? Just that we were chosen for a task... Rooke's task seems done, mine might be with the CS Army forced back. I don't like magic much myself, but I've learned not to buck it either. If I'm still covered by the title then things'll work out... if you want answers to questions like that, go talk to the Oracle."
A heavyset reporter pipes up after being recognized by the Councilman, "Will the verdict of attempted murder seriously affect your working relationship with the other council-members?"
Damion says "I have no idea, the only other current member of the council is a guy I've only run across a couple of times." He smiles "I doubt it however, except for the magistrates I don't think many people in Tolkeen have any doubts that if I wanted to kill I would have. The very fact that Jeremy's alive today testifies to the wrongness of my conviction"
Jeremy shakes his head grimly as he makes his way out the door. "...the world's gone mad, Hillary," he remarks wearily over his shoulder, the rest of his comments lost in the shuffle. Downtrodden, he trods off to get pleasantly pickled before he curls up in bed with a nice warm particle beam weapon at his side.
The reporter's questions begin to sound the same and repeat each other, several in a row begin to ask about Damion's personal life, a pair of reporters from a gossip magazine bring up allegations of a transspecies affair with a married Ithorian named 'Gilda'.
Damion is silent about his personal life and answers nothing, he neither denies or confirms -anything- but instead moves to the "Next" question until there are no more original comments. "Looks like you guys are out of stuff for me, I'm almost disappointed about some of the things that -weren't- asked... maybe later though" He smiles oddly and retreats into his office.
As the Councilman walks away without further ado, Walter flounders a moment as the reporters on the scene look around for Doctor Hawthorne, who seems to have dissapeared at the moment. "That was a post trial interview of Councilman Damion Blane... The councilman has challenged Doctor Hawthorne to a duel in the Ring, Doctor Hawthorne is not available for comment at the moment, so we'll return your to your scheduled programming. As always, stay tuned to Channel One for more on this story at Ten."
Walter gets replaced by the credits of the Cooking Show, Muffe Torkel's Grand Feast. Some gourmands out there must be pretty pissed that they missed Torkel's famous "Boiled Icanthian Slobber Beast over a bed of freshly roasted pseudo-carrots."...
Message: 20/10 Tuesday, Jun 22, 1999Luncheon Coverage
Date: Samhain 18th 107PA, segment played at noon, repeated in the evening and nighttime newsWalter appears on screen during the afternoon news break, while his co-anchor, Jhartha Fjekkat does the intro during her regular segment covering the lives of Tolkeen's up-and-coming public. Jhartha cheerily says, "Well, anyone who's anyone today attended the Trimus Institute for Wayward Children Charity Banquet in the /beautiful/ Freedom Hotel.. reporting live on the event is Walter Riely.. Walter?"
Walter smiles into the camera, caught up in all the excitement around him. "Jhartha, the Banquet is still going strong.. and at a thousand creds a plate, I think everyone here is getting their money's worth!" *big sappy tv grin*
Jhartha giggles at Walt's lame joke, and asks, "Can you tell us who was there Walter? I heard some very important people are in attendance!"
Walter pipes up over the noise in the background of glasses clinging together in a toast, and carefree people laughing it up, "Yes.. several executives from Drake-Zamphoon enterprises, the CEO of General Automobiles: Lindstraat Carluche, and his competitor: Franklin Smith Corley the III of Corley Motors are here.. as well as the popular philantropist Marayla DiMeglio. The son of Mr. Lens-Cavendish of New Lazlo's Pen and Parchment Inc. is here... and over a hundred others!"
Walter disappears again as the view switches back to the young Jhartha, "I hear the children were very thankful for everyone's attendance and their generosity as well!", she makes the statement sound like a question somehow.. it's strange...
Walter replies, while a video feed rolls, "Yes Jhartha, the orphans thanked everyone in attendance personally and had even prepared a musical number for the occasion!" You can almost feel the love oozing out of the television screen for the little tykes as they go around the large circle of those present--shaking each being's hands (or the closest equivalent). After a few handshakes, the feed switches to a sound-byte of the children singing the song, "We the children thank you.. from the bottom of our hearts".
Jhartha flashes a pretty television smile and says goodbye to Walter, "Thanks Walter! I wish I could have been there!" She looks relieved to be out from under his shadow, turning back to the camera she says, "In other news, the hunt is still on for the strange creatures sighted coming from a rift around the White Tower on Saturday...
Message: 20/11 Friday, June 25, 1999Bat-News Broadcast
Aired Samhain 23rd, 107PAAt the end of Tolkeen's favorite show, "I Love Reruns"--or more widely known as "Sally Jherfey Donnatello" the television screen goes blank. Although alarming to those who like to tan in front of the "Old Radiation Box", it's absolutely normal, as Tolkeen's number one news show is about to come on: "Channel One Action News"!
The announcer begins right after the usual dramatic music plays, "You're watching Channel One Action News, Tolkeen's number one news show!.. In Channel One, Studio One.. here is Jhartha Fjekkat reporting..."
Jhartha smiles and begins to speak, "The militia continues to warn the public of the growing danger to pedestrians on the city streets at night.. five attacks by the strange winged beasts reported to have entered Tolkeen through a rift over Freedom Plaza have been reported this week, along with over a dozen reported sightings.. Reporting from the scene of one such attack is Walter Riely, Walter?"
Walter appears, standing outside of the Java Factory. The two universities of Tolkeen can be seen in the distance, along with the beginnings of Tolkeen's "nether regions", the Western Sector. Walter begins speaking while a few bystanders gawk and wave to the camera, "The scene was a horrifying one here last night, as two of the strange winged beasts that escaped from the Freedom Plaza rift last Saturn Day attacked a local gym owner named Gareth Vaughan..." An image of the creatures appear on the screen, sketched in black and white pencil, the picture shows a rapidly descending creature sporting a wingspan of at least twelve feet, its trailing body bony and angular except for a smooth, blunt head resembling an albino watermelon, and seemingly bereft of eyes and ears, but making up for it with a gaping maw of saw-edged teeth. Included in the picture for scale reasons is an average person, cowering in fear as the beast is about to strike... "Displayed here, is an artists rendering of the beast, shown to scale against an average humanoid.."
Walter continues, as a few annoying bystanders creep behind Walter and wave into the camera, Walter gives no sign of noticing the distractions however. "Luckily, through the assistance of a Militia Dogboy, Alexi-7; Militia cadet T. Morrison, and an anonymous mage, the beasts were driven off before any serious harm could be done.."
Walter points to the south, and says, "One of the beasts, wounded after the failed attack crashed into the third floor of the low-cost housing known as Tenements. Militia officials comment that the beast was severely wounded, but continued to fight fiercely--injuring one Militia member while flapping the remains of it's wing in an attempt to right its self in the small room before being put down by a well placed shot to the head by another Militia member.."
The scene switches to one outside of one of the Tenement structures, where a pair of Militia vehicles, one an ambulance, the other a flatbed truck wait patiently. Coming out of the building is a wounded Militia member, holding his broken arm.. obviously painful, but not necessarily life-threatening. A jump in the feed then shows another pair of Militia members dragging the deathly white corpse of the beast, minus a bloody head and wing, onto the back end of the flat-bed.
Walter nears the end of his regular monologue, continuing to completely ignore the bystanders, "These terrifying beasts appear to feed on blood, draining approximately 4 pints of life-fluid from each of their victims, leaving them in serious medical condition. The Militia continues to warn the public to stay indoors during the night, and to avoid empty buildings and dark alleyways.."
Walter appears to be drawing to a close, "While no one knows where these beasts come from, or what they're here for, one thing is clear.. They are hunting the innocent people of Tolkeen, and they must be stopped...This is Walter Riely for Channel One News... Jhartha?"
Jhartha reappears inside the studio, and says to Walter's image, "Thank you, Walter." She turns to the fat man sitting next to her, D'hom McVale, and says seriously--considering the seriousness of the Walter's report before, "Those things scare me...I keep getting this feeling like some evil beings are looking down on us and laughing whenever I hear of another attack..." D'hom nods in agreement, until the camera zooms in tight to his upper body, whereupon he looks startled and asks, "So..you're probably wondering what's with the strange weather recently? Well, I'll have more for you after this commercial break.."
A quick commercial advertising 'SoyMush!', a bland breakfast cereal favored by health nuts, plays on screen in an attempt to boost horrible sales this quarter... After the commercial (Only one for once.. thank the gods..) D'hom McVale appears standing next to what appears to be an series of aircraft surveillance photographs, probably taken before the Coalition Occupation nearly two years ago. A faint blue line around his large frame and wild hair indicates that he's standing in front of a blue screen... even Channel One has to cut costs somewhere...
D'hom begins speaking, "Well..to tell you the truth, I can't tell /whats/ going on with the weather..For the past week, the temperatures have been spiking ever higher..." D'hom continues to make apologies for his lack of data, the normal weather patterns are completely disrupted...<<OOC NOTE:>>The average temperatures for this time of year is around 60 degrees Farenheit, 16 degrees Centigrade, if I converted right..:) They are currently above 70 degrees farenheit and rising steadily each day.
Message: 20/12 Sunday, June 27, 1999News Bulletin: Killer Bats
<<OOC>> Date: Sun Day Samhain 21st, 10:00 PMWalter Riely begins the Sun Day evening edition news report with this story, while his co-anchor Jhartha Fjekkat waits for her stories to come up. "A Tolkeen man was killed yesterday in another attack by the strange white bats that emerged from a rift, over a week ago."
The television screen shows a family photograph of Hata "Harry" Zimberuski, a rather generic looking humanoid, along with a human female, and what is apparently thier children. A picture in picture window appears, showing the approximate location of his death, on Tarn Avenue, east of Freedom avenue. Walter continues speaking, "Zimberuski was pronounced dead at the scene. A second man, who's name has not been released, is in serious condition after being drained of blood. He is currently under emergency care in the Tolkeen Medical Center. Our compassion goes out to both families..." The image disappears, replaced with the seal of Tolkeen and after a brief puase Walter goes on to the next story "Seven such attacks have occured since the beings arrived in Tolkeen. Police and Militia members continue to warn the public to remain indoors at night, avoiding abandoned buildings and dark alleyways."
The camera switches angles and Walter turns in his chair as he continues with the story, "Many rumors have surfaced regarding these blood-drinking beasts. Among these is the belief that these creatures are in some way causing a heat-wave throughout Tolkeen. Official sources have neither confirmed nor denied this theory, stating that several agencies are currently trying to determine the cause."
The camera catches both Walter and Jhartha in the same shot, while Jhartha continues with a transition between stories "...coming up on the Sun Day edition.. 'How shop-owners are benefiting from the bats..' and D'hom McVale has more.. (or less)" she mutters, "..on the weather!"
A commercial comes on, advertising a new combination under-arm deodorant with blood-sucking bat protection. "It's BYE-BYE-BATTIE! The only deodorant spray garanteed to keep /YOU/ from getting killed.. or your money back! Fend off those ugly white beasties! Impress the ladies!" A young man appears on screen saying, "Don't worry Julie.. I'm wearing BYE-BYE-BATTIE.. those albino vampire bats won't get /us/ tonight.." The girl responds, "And you smell like fresh roasted garlic! "Mmm... my favorite, I wanna..." The announcer comes back on, "So.. if you've been attacked by bats, you haven't been wearing BYE-BYE-BATTIE..now have you?" A couple of other commercials come on, but none so ridiculous as the first. Come on.. is some underarm spray going to keep the bats away? Although.. that guy looked pretty happy... maybe it would be good to invest in a bottle, just to be on the safe side.
When the Sun Day edition returns, D'hom Mcvale is standing in front of a computer graphic showing a panoramic view of Tolkeen, taken from on top of the city walls. The graphic is red, giving the illusion that it was taken in infrared.. wait a sec.. it /is/ taken in infrared! Maybe Channel One isn't so cheap after all.. continuous low lying clouds can be seen, glowing a ghostly red--the infrared light of the city being reflected back to the camera, several vehicles drive down the street, their passengers glowing as brightly as the engines. D'hom points to the low-lying clouds over Tolkeen and begins speaking, "It seems that a pocket of warm air has become trapped over Tolkeen, preventing the normal weather patterns for this time of year from forming. The strange part of it is, it only extends for a mile or two outside the city.
"I have to say," he continues, "In my years as a meteorologist I've never seen anything like this.. ever." As he speaks, the air near one of the buildings in the shot suddenly increases temperature, as evidenced by the increase in luminosity on the IR camera. Whether or not D'hom actually notices it can't be told, he's waving his hands somewhere in the location of the clouds, while saying "...is partly smog, one of the bad things an inversion layer cuases. Over the next few days we'll see the air quality index go down..." D'hom rambles, trying to fill in time normally taken up by simply stating the temperature and whether it's going to rain or not..
Jhartha takes over, and above her right shoulder an image of a cred-chip appears, "Local businesses are benefitting from the appearance of the bats." An unnamed shop-owner appears, holding up strings of garlic to the camera--probably offering to sell it to them for only a few hundred credits each...
Message: 20/13 Sunday, June 27, 1999Interview With Toki
Excerpt from Tolkeen Insider, which plays twice a week and re-runs in the morning:Jhartha Fjekkat greets the audience by looking into the camera and saying cheerily, "Hi there! Welcome to Tolkeen Insider, our guests tonight are Cadet Toki Morrison, Actress Freyla Borrsn'yyk, and Comedian Jose Quirridas!" She turns from the camera to Toki, as the camera zooms out to get both of them in the same shot. Jhartha says, "This is Toki Morrison, a cadet in the Tolkeen Militia. Now Toki, what happened Freya day night at the Java Factory?"
Toki turns to Jhartha, he has a serious look on his face, "On Freya Day night I was just sitting around at the Java Factory, talking to Delphina at the time." He hesitates for a split second to recollect, "And the air started to get warmer and a mist rose..."
Jhartha Fjekkat nods, then interjects during Toki's recollection, "Who's this Delphina you were with? A love interest?" She winks cheerily' at Toki.. Gods, that happy act of hers gets annoying after a while.
Toki smiles, "Well until then a stranger, she just sat down at my table and we had some casual conversation, I believe she said that she teaches at the academy of magic."
Jhartha Fjekkat ohs, and then nods, her well maintained coif bobbing up and down with her head. "So, what happened after the mist appeared?" she looks interested in Toki's story, but being a professional actor (she hosts a gossip show along with being co-anchor to Walter Riely), it's difficult to tell whether or not she is faking.
Toki relaxes a little a bit and goes on with his story, "Well I started to get worried. It's not everyday when a mist just suddenly appears out of nowhere, Delphina tried to reassure me that it was probably just an alchemist's experiment gone awry, but I was still on my gun," he looks into the camera briefly and goes on with his story, "Then a /huge/ man appears in the mist and he gets attacked by these huge winged creatures, the albino bats. When he creatures just suddenly appeared, a combat ready magician, and a mutant dog, along with myself burst out the door."
Jhartha Fjekkat asks, definitely interested.. well you're pretty sure she's definitely interested anyway, "So you possibly saved this man's life?" She turns to the camera and says, "WE may have a budding hero on our hands!" Her cheery smile and voice are all warm fuzziness to the young cadet.
Toki blushes a bit, "Heh heh, thats /we/, if it weren't for the other two, I probably woud've been dead meat." He smiles, you can tell Jhartha's bubbly attitude is starting to loosen him up some more, "After the brief battle, one of the creatures crashed into a tenement building, and another escaped, the militia got there and I hopped onto one of the militia vehicles to show them the best I could where I thought the monster had went. We finally got to it and destroyed it by either sheer luck or just plain old over-bearing."
Jhartha Fjekkat smiles again, doesn't her face /ever/ get tired? She seems like she's about to introduce another guest, and sure enough.. "Well, the Militia has always come through for Tolkeen. It was wonderful talking with you Toki, I'll sleep a little better tonight knowing that there's one less monster flying around in the dark." She shakes Toki's hand and then turns to the camera once more saying, "After this commercial break, we'll be talking with comedian Jose Quirridas.. stay tuned.."
The theme music plays once more and Jhartha gets up to see Toki off and thank him for coming down as the screen fades to black, returning to advertise "SoyMush" for the eightieth time today.. Oh No.. it's prime time.. twelve commercials play in a row before the show finally returns, minus one cadet.. Apparently his story wasn't as fascinating as Jhartha thought...Damn that Walter Riely for not telling her anything!...
Luckily, Jose' comes out to riotous applause.. probably canned, those cheap bastards.. A strange face starts his appearance off with a bang-eyes bugged out and lips folded back like an orangutan, why he's got Jhartha rolling in her seat!
Message: 20/14 Saturday, August 28, 1999Blizzard Watch in Effect
Aired early Jander, 108PADhom Mcvale, the Channel One Weatherbeing starts his segment of the morning news with, "Well, it's currently a sunny, 20 degrees outside this morning, but I don't think this fine weather is going to last much longer. It seems a front is starting to move in, and possibly bring on some blizzard conditions." He waves his arms in the general region of Tolkeen, while standing in front of a big blue-screened map of the area, a doppler radar view showing a wall of precipitation heading straight for Tolkeen. He continues, "Weather stations are currently reporting several inches of snow have fallen withen the last few hours, so we may see the storm hit sometime around the afternoon today, back to you Jhartha..."
Jhartha Fjekkat reappears, turning to face Walter, "So, Walter, what can we do to prepare for this coming storm?"
Walter turns to face the camera, and answers, "Well, Jhartha, it's always a good idea to have a few flashlights or other sources of light around the house. Another good thing to have around the house are extra blankets, in case the heat goes out." A text screen showing the contents of a blizzard emergency kit comes on, replacing Walter, listing common items found around the home that can help keep one alive in a blizzard, including blankets, candles, and extra food...
By some bizzare stroke of luck or demonic will, the next commercial that comes on is one for "Uncle Bennies Nutrient Pap". A little kid grins as his mother hands him a single serving tube before he heads outside to build a snow-effigy. The little kid twists off the cap, and sqeezes the tubes brown contents into him mouth. Vaguely resembling fecal matter, the squirting noises the tube makes don't seem to help with the appeal of the product. After sqeezing the whole thing into his mouth, the little child obviously struggles to swallow it, then says.. "Mmmm! Bannana Curry! My Favorite!". The kid gets replaced by the Uncle Bennies Logo, as well as the logo for Burn-Rite fuel Co.
Message: 20/15 Monday, September 6, 1999Public Interest Broadcast
Aired Mid-Jander, 108PA"This is Walter Riely, for Channel One Action News. This winter's blizzard has been hard for much of Tolkeen, overwhelming the city's staff of work-beings, doing everything possible to keep Tolkeen's streets clear, and the power on, in even the worst ice-storms. But the hardest hit by this winter are not the people inside the city, but those struggling to live outside, in the meanest of living conditions."
The view behind Walter shows a freeway grave-yard, littered with the hulks of vehicles long dead. Walter continues, "These unfortunates live in a universe of cold and damp, ice and snow. Never knowing what the next day may bring.. that they even exist at all is a surprise to many.."
The scene behind Walter is a dead one, only the flapping of half-rotten blankets in the breeze can be seen, as Walter pauses dramatically. A sudden gust of wind sends a cloud of snow blowing by the camera, obscuring Walter in a haze of crystalline beauty, tearing a few of the blankets from the tops of the vehicles, and making Walt's coat billow and flap like a flag. The noise of the wind fades suddenly, as it gets replaced by an interview with a Tolkeen citizen.
A shivering citizen speaks into a microphone shoved into his face, "I never knew that those people lived so close to the city.. I mean, I never noticed them before. Why are you asking, you want me to support some people I never even knew existed? I pay my taxes, I'm a law-abiding citizen buddy, but there ain't no law against not giving the homeless money. I got enough problems supporting my own children. Why, just last week my kids wanted to buy some clothes, and I couldn't afford them.."
A trio appears on TV--a middle aged man, escorted by two young ladies. One of the ladies responds, "Of course Tammy and I give to charity! We working girls know what it's like to freeze out tails off in the cold all night!" She gets interrupted by the middle aged man, who appears rather drunk, "Why's it my fault I don't give to cha-aaaa-rity? *Belch*"
The camera returns to Walter, as the wind causes a rotting blanket to blow across the ground behind him, finally getting caught on a piece of rusting metal. A d-bee child tentatively steps forward, to grab the fly-away blanket, before a human female of indeterminate age, rushes out to drag the young creature back to hide behind one of the rusting vehicles.
As the camera focuses its attention upon the woman and child, a commotion happens off camera. The view swings drunkenly to take in a group of three men approaching the camera. All three wield blunt instruments, suitable for bashing skulls, breaking bones, and crushing furry rodents. The leader, a burly unwashed man covered in greasy black hair steps confidently forward and pokes a dirty finger at Walter's chest, while the other two stand imposingly beside him.
"Listen you little news-f***, we're tired of your pity. No one ever lifts a finger to help us when we're in need, when our children are sick, when we freeze in our sleep, nobody!" The other two men nod in agreement, "We were kicked out of Tolkeen for what we've done 'r what we can't do, but our families don't deserve this. We look after our own, -little man-, we've never taken any charity, and we never will! Why? Because you don't even know we exist!" The leader concludes with a furious jab in Walter's ribs, pushing the reporter back a bit.
The three turn around and head back for the cars, stopping in their tracks when Walter asks loudly, "Why are you here?" The leader points to the camera and responds, "Because" he pauses thoughtfully, "Because we are _animals_."
The trio walk back to their cars, and nothing but the sound of the wind and the hungry cry of an infant is heard. The camera pans back to Riely, "For Channel One News, I'm Walter Riely."
Message: 20/16 Friday, September 24, 1999End of Blizzard Broadcast
Aired in mid-Faundus, 108PAYellow flashing lights illuminate Walter's face as he stands just outside the city gates, behind him sits the great hulk of a cargo-hauler, the vehicle's driver and escorts waiting patiently for clearance from the guards a the city-gate. A cheer erupts from the truck crew as the guards finally allow entrance to the city. After a month of stalled shipments and missing parts, the first cargo-hauler has finally returned to Tolkeen.
Walter runs up to the cabin of the cargo-hauler, holding up his microphone to the driver side window. "What's it like to be back inside Tolkeen?" he asks enthusiastically. The driver leans out and shouts, "It's great! I'm gonna get me some... Oh wait... I can't say that on television, now can I? My wife wouldn't approve.. Uh, I'm gonna take my wife out to see a movie?"
The escorts cheer as the cargo-hauler finally pulls away, headed for Tolkeen's industrial centers. Walter turns back to the camera once more, "After over a month of stalled industry, workers without jobs, and machines without parts, Tolkeen has finally slipped out of the noose of the 'Blizzard of '08'. As I speak, citizens are digging out of the snow and returning to their normal lives. We'll go back to the studio where D'hom Mcvale has more on the weather.
D'hom appears on the screen, a Tolkeen area map on the blue-screen behind him, showing a Doppler radar view. D'hom waves his hand over the area of Tolkeen city-proper, and says, "We'll as you can see, it's going to be partly cloudy, but just gorgeous outside. Now, lets go to the five-day forecast."
The view behind D'hom changes to an pretty snowscape on Freedom and Lazlo. Deep drifts cover the road, and a group of adults are having a snowball fight. Wait a sec, that's Rooke Del Reyhart on the screen! Rooke twists at the mid-section, winding up, and whips the ball at an armored-man's back, side-throw style. A blue-armored, black man is hit in the back, but runs off and hides behind a building... wimp.
A be-mittened, redheaded man in bright winterwear compresses a smaller handful of snow together and leans back on his heels. Lake's (for it was he) apparent departure from the frolicking gives him only one more obvious target at the moment. Confident that this little beauty is aerodynamically sound he takes better aim and flings it at Rooke's torso. His concentration is evident by the fact that his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth and the semi-crazed look in his eyes. *piff*
D'hom starts up again, as the 5-day forecast overlays the snow-ball fight, "Well, for tomorrow, we're going to continue seeing partly cloudy weather, clearing up to mostly sunny in the late afternoon."
Another armored man trailing a wolf-skin cape, calmly walks past the little scene, probably providing some nice footage for the camera which most people will see and go, 'Hey, he didn't wave at the camera! He was a plant! A plant, I tell you!'. He gets to the Succubus door and turns, demonstrating his usual lack of consistency, and sets his pack down, leaning it up against the wall. Quietly, he bends down and scoops up a bunch of snow in his armored gauntlets, and starts packing it together.<continued in next post>
Message: 20/17 Friday, September 24, 1999"By Thor's Day, however, we're going to start to see some more clouds again, but they shouldn't be bringing any precipitation."
The wolf-skin-caped man (whom some would recognize as the outdoorsman, Jynn) hefts his mighty sphere of icy cold death and jaunts back down the sidewalk, drawing a steely eyed bead on the back of the colorfully be-mittened man's head. Licking his lips, drawing some kind of uncharacteristic, sadistic pleasure in the act, he winds his arm back and lets the projectile fly, the thing flaking off little clumps as it arcs high into the air and slams into mitten-boy's neck, sliding down under his collar in a sticky mess. See, scouts have training throwing sh*t around.
Mitten-boy winces as his shot misses the mark completely again. Turning about, he scurries away practically on all fours to put some distance between him and Rooke. Recalling something about moving targets from old training, he tries to make his scampering erratic. Unfortunately for him, some devious soul has decided to peg him with a very well-aimed shot. The shock of impact makes him jerk and pivot onto the snowy ground. "Auuugh!" is followed close by an "Ooop!" as he falls.
Rooke shifts backwards in her crouch, scope widening to take in the new threat near The Succubus. "....oh.. that's how it is, huh... a bit of sniper fire there, is it, Slaine..?" she mutters darkly, once again finding an excuse not to aim for mitten-boy, of whom some viewers may wonder hesitantly, 'that total loon can't be Tandem..'. She takes a few strategic steps backwards, braces her legs in the deep snow, and lobs a compacted snowball at Jynn's upper chest area, arc long and straight-ish.
"And finally, by Freya Day, it will be mostly cloudy, with a high in the 30's. We'll be back after this commercial."
Jynn unleashes a startled "Brrawwww!" as the snowball slams harmlessly against his armored chest. Et tu, Rook-e? A cloud of snow puffs up, coating his air filter and glittering in his eyes, the million tiny suns blinding him for the moment. He staggers around, swatting at the motes, and walks smack into the wall of the infamous tavern.
The snowball fight ends with a commercial for Burn-rite fuel. An idyllic family scene inside a warm home, cut to a man snow-blowing his driveway, a snow-plow clearing the transportation arteries of Tolkeen, a snow-covered view of a Burn-rite fuel depot, the sign and logo becoming animated and finally morphing to fill the center of the screen.
Message: 20/18 Tuesday, November 16, 1999Convoy Re-Broadcast
Aired Mid-Spring, 108PARepeat live footage from a week ago is included with the occasional news program that analyzes Militia or government procedure, as well as on a new Channel One special entitled: 'When Accidents Waiting To Happen... Happen'. As the scene from the camera unfolds, it quickly becomes apparent that everything is in chaos. A string of eighteen-wheeled cargo haulers look as if they were part of a conga-line gone amuck. Several of the cage-topped cargo haulers lay toppled on their sides, others nearly jackknifed in an attempt to avoid collision. Militia members struggle to keep the large number of civilians gathered on the street from milling closer to the accident...
The much-lauded permacrete under the convoy seems to be truly suffering under the weight strain of the convoy, in particular the third one down, where the massive cage is shaking with the fury of whatever creature is inside. Suddenly, on the right side of it, a dirty, scaled horn breaks through a small breach in the grid-pattern of the cage; it widens with a shriek of grating metal as the horn rams through to its base, a full two feet in length.
An uneven pounding shakes the street under the feet of those remaining despite the ominous sounds of chaos coming from the convoy. Streamlets of smoke and dust seem to cling to the tusks of the monster that hurtles out of the roiling dark clouds and down Freedom towards the other area of disaster. Long grayish-black fur flying, it lumbers on huge three-toed hooves and is covered with a seemingly random series of horns over its body. A number of hard armored plates run up from a disgusting warthog-ish visage to a comical bald spot on its humped back. Easy 15 feet tall and 18 feet long, it bells out its challenging howl again and makes straight for the convoy.
An elderly lady points wildly at the rampaging creature from her balcony on the third floor of a shop north of the convoy. Her half-crazed shriek of surprise splits the already tumultuous air. "Oh my heavenly stars! It's Fablio!"
As the crowd surges to escape the rampaging creatures, Walter begins to speak into the camera, "I'm here south of the intersection of Freedom and Lazlo as..." Before Walter can finish can his sentence the camera whips in the direction of a rampaging warthog thing charging down the street. Walter opens his mouth to object to George, but turns his head in time to see the rampaging beast just yards away. In an act of heroism, or rather cleverly masked cowardice, Walter grabs his cameraman, who stupidly stands filming the confusion, and rushes for the nearest shelter... which happens to be one of the numerous alleyways along Freedom Way. As the two men secure their new position, Walter reaches into his coat to grab the only phallic symbol not currently turning turtle on him.. his .45...
The massive construct that spans over two of Freedom Way's six lanes, continues to rock from side to side, frantic grunting issuing from the inside. Puffs of steamy, rotten air cascade out to both sides of the street from the holes of the cage's grid pattern. It seems to create an effect that the Militia could not force on the fleeing pedestrians; as a wave they move back, squeezing up onto the sidewalk again to avoid the fetid air.
The cage of gridlocked strips of thick metal, mounted third in the convoy line, begins to shake from side to side, rusty screaming metal sounds issuing as the structure seems to distort slightly each time. A roar similar to the one heard from (possibly) up the avenue fills the air in the immediate area, the incomprehensible sound expanding like an explosion. It rises in pitch and echoes away.<continued in next post>
Message: 20/19 Tuesday, November 16, 1999Walt regains sense enough to narrate as the filming continues, "The scene here is chaotic to say the least. I don't have much information to go on at this time, but apparently the Tolkeen Militia was escorting a shipment of wild creatures to the Tolkeen Zoo when an accident occurred. Several of the creatures must have escaped to cause such pandemonium.."
A horror-stricken woman (looks like Rayne) amongst the crowd falls apart at the seams, unable to do much of anything productive. She starts to laugh insanely as over and over she shouts, "The Beast! I TOLD you ALL! The BEAST! THE BEAST WILL KILL US ALL!!"
The thing inside the rapidly disintegrating cage echoes Fablio's howl and gives one mighty push. Its huge, slobbering, rhinoceros-warthog head bursts clean through the side of the cage, which goes a long way to opening up a viable exit for it, from its prison. It trumpets again, right at a nearby albino man with silver hair (that guy is vaguely familiar, too.. Blurp So-n-So..), the sound waves almost visible as the hot stink of it courses over him. Then, the whole, wide, right panel of the cage breaks away and like a really tacky metal necklace around the creature's thick neck.
The one-monster stampede coming down the avenue takes a moment to kick at a lamppost that really offends it for some reason, sending it tearing right off its base and hurtling into the side of a building, nearly decapitating the poor citizens cowering there. It is now a bit over thirty feet away, stamping and pawing the ground in a frenzy of rage, trails of smoke still running up from its wounds.
As light rubble rains down upon Walter and the camera's position, a voice corrects the news-man, "Uh.. actually boss, the first one's named Fablio... he must've escaped from the zoo or something. The kids love'm to death, you should see them cheer at feeding time..." Walter interrupts the man speaking, apparently his cameraman, "Alright George, I should be the one talking.. not you.." he pauses for a breath, "Militia members are currently trying to subdue the beasts, before more damage is caused."
Swearing, a militiaman (some would recognize him as William) slings his rifle quickly. Popping open a pouch on his LBV, he takes out a grenade. Pulling the pin, he tosses it at the oncoming Beast. Not waiting to see what happens, the militiaman reaches down, hauling a wounded superior onto his shoulder and turning to run for safety. The militiaman's grenade arcs towards the oncoming monstrosity, detonating in a huge cloud of shrapnel and smoke. Shards of fragmenting metal blossom in all directions and stitch themselves into Fablio's bulk. One of his large horns is gouged out and clunks to the permacrete followed by a trail of bloody fluids.
From her balcony, the elderly woman gasps and throws herself down on her knees as the building shakes. She clings to the railing and shrieks, "Don't do this, Fablio! Fablio, go back home!" To the Militia soldiers below she pleads, "Have mercy!" She's got one of those kindly grandmother give-you-a-cookie faces, except now it's distorted in true concern for this Fablio she keeps screaming about.
Other soldiers in the area continue to pepper the beast with further shots from their weapons. A little over-anxious, one overzealous private depresses the trigger of his weapon and empties his clip. The force of the recoil sends him onto his back and sends an wide arc of weapon's fire into the sky above.
The thing in the cage, after shaking off its twisted metal necklace, bears striking resemblance to Fablio, except with less gaping bloody holes in its side. It swings its head around to fix Fablio with its single-minded focus. In a flash, NotFablio leaping alongside the convoy to engage Fablio.
Walter shouts over the din of the battle, "The two beasts seem to be fighting each other..." Well, of course they're fighting each other you idiot reporter! "...As the Militia brings all available force against the creature, citizens are pleading to have the animal spared...."<continued in next post>
Message: 20/20 Tuesday, November 16, 1999Fablio rears, and spectators can see that he actually has three pairs of three-toed feet, the middle set flailing out from under shaggy locks of dark fur. Flecks of blood and chunks of hide rain down as it twists to the side and attempts to go around the head of the convoy, also intent on meeting head-on with NotFablio. Above him, that same old woman waves her arms and hollers, "Get that imposter out of here! Poor Fablio! What are you monsters trying to do??" It's a good guess that her 'monster' remarks are directed at the Militia and the Convoy personnel.
The two mammoth beasts collide head on, producing a deafening bone-crunching crack. The intense force of the meeting sends a shockwave through the immediate area. The horns of Fablio rake across the militiaman and his wounded superior and send them flying cartwheel-style.
Walter simply stands in awe of the fighting beasts, any chance at sounding intelligent went out the window a while ago.
From overhead, a number of TW craft and magically empowered PAD operatives appears. A hail of tranquilizer darts rain down upon the two beasts...and bounce harmlessly off. Luckily, overkill is the name of the game and it is not long afterwards that the spells are flung gratuitously onto Fablio and NotFablio. The street ripples with a magic that transforms it into something like contact cement, and glimmering webs coat the two still viciously quarrelling beasts like glazed donuts.
The two Teepowka become immobilized but still make threatening gestures with their gaping maws at one another. Blood flows freely from both, Fablio seeming to be in much more dire straits however. More Militia personnel and Medical units arrive soon afterwards. Most take a few moments to gape before managing to snap out of it and attend to those present.
Walter gapes as the two powerful monsters are brought down quickly. Without a word, the live footage cuts out with after it's clear the newsman has forgotten he's supposed to be reporting... Jhartha Fjekkat reappears, staring at the monitor placed off screen. She regains her composure and utters, "...we'll keep track of that story and keep our viewers informed as more information becomes available..."
Message: 20/21 Saturday, December 11, 1999Psychic Reading Informercial
A fifteen minute infomercial broadcasted during late night or early mornings in early Marron, 108PA"Well, we're back, and our special guest tonight is Madame Rayne Lazarus, famed psychic and astrologer to the stars...no pun intended! So, Mme. Rayne, I'm so delighted you could make it tonight!" exclaims Jhartha as "Tolkeen Insider" returns from comercial. It's a strange day indeed, first the show's re-runs get moved to a new time, and now the guest is sitting behind the hostess' desk! Still, Ms. Fjekkat isn't without her feminine charms tonight--she isn't against showing a little leg if it will increase ratings. Those poor boys going through puberty must be receiving sterilizing doses of radiation considering how close they must be sitting to the television... now that two beautiful women are sharing the spotlight...
After the brief applause and introduction, Rayne smiles and extends a delicate hand to Jartha, mildly responding to the introduction, "Thanks so much for having me here, Jartha. It's a real pleasure to be on your show."
Jhartha gets the show rolling after a quick glance off camera, by stating: "Mme. Rayne, you're on tonight as our special guest, and you say that you will be giving fortunes to the audience tonight. Anyone brave enough to volunteer?" She rises from her seat to point to a hesitant looking young man in his late teens, "Why not you sir?" The young man quickly stands up and strolls down to the hostess and her guest. Jhartha continues, "So, without any further ado, I'll turn the show over to you." Her chafing smile fades at those words, Gods how she hates being out of the spotlight! From the way she acts you'd think all her fans would forget her if she weren't on the television for any longer than 15 minutes..
The young man plops down in the chair next to the desk as Jhartha moves over to allow the volunteer to see whatever Mme. Rayne is doing. Rayne asks, "Ok... I need your name, and age, and your question of course."
"Greg," says... well... Greg. "I'm 18. I... I was wondering if I'd ever find true love?" The young man sits on the edge of his seat, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants.
Rayne shuffles the cards a few times and hands them to Greg to cut. Greg cuts the deck with a nervous, shaky hand and slides the cards back to Rayne.
Rayne quickly flips over three cards, one at a time in a row. The camera zooms in from above her left shoulder, and the audience can see that the cards are SEVEN OF SWORDS, SEVEN OF RODS (reversed), and THE LOVERS (reversed). Shaking her head sadly, Rayne announces, "Chances are, no. I'm afraid you won't find true love. Looks to me that right now you're full of wishes. You're confident and dreamy. Maybe a little... naive, in the ways of love. Unfortunately, insecurity will lead you to miss out on chances of love." She continues the reading by explaining, "You're bound to end up in relationships that are bad for you. Early marriage, even, to the wrong person."
With a sad shrug, Greg hmms, "I kinda expected that actually..."
Rayne frowns and shrugs, "Sometimes it's not always what you want to read into them." She pauses and twists a curl around her finger thoughtfully as she studies the cards. "However, I suspect if you can keep the confidence you have in your youth as you get older, and avoid foolish and rash decisions, you can turn your future around."
With a shake of his head, Greg returns to his seat, but not before muttering: "Right about bad relationships... Dead on actually." People in the audience are eagerly raising their hands trying to get Rayne's attention.
Rayne quickly scans the audience and ends up picking another young man as the show goes to a commercial.<Continued in next post>
Message: 20/22 Saturday, December 11, 1999The commercial starts with a bang, or more accurately, some nifty effects with a black light, some suspended crystals, smoke machine, and a low powered laser. Rayne sits behind a table dealing out tarot cards that glow spookily in the illumination of the black light. Her hands and face glow an eerie blue, the rest of her body can barely be seen as she is wearing a black cloak. As she deals the tarot cards the baritone voice of a narrator says, "Mysteries of science and nature, thought, and the supernatural, the secrets of the Universe can be known. Madame Rayne has the answers." Light patterns of the Zodiac play across Madame Rayne's face as the Camera focuses dramatically on the fortuneteller as she places the last card before her. The woman makes a popping noise with her mouth before saying, "I foresee great troubles to those who do not know their way in life." The image is replaced by the words, "Madame Rayne: Astrologer and Fortuneteller. Affordable rates. Call 555-STAR (7827)!"
Oh great, now it's painfully clear that this is an infomercial. Jhartha loses some coolness points by stooping to a cameo appearance in one of these prolific little ads. The text remains on the screen for about thirty seconds, for all those people who forgot to watch late night programming without a pen and notepad in hand. Then it dissolves back to the main action.
The man Rayne was interviewing before the commercial stands up and steps down from the stage. Rayne scans the audience looking for another willing participant. Seems everyone in the audience is eager to have their fortune told, but Rayne calls on an elderly woman. Jartha stands up from her seat on stage and goes to help the lady up the steps and into the seat across from Rayne.
"Well, hello there. I just need your name and age, Ma'am." Rayne smiles sweetly, her pretty features becoming even more attractive.
The older woman scowls, "Ain't right askin' a lady her name."
This doesn't deter Rayne, she simple holds her television smile in place and says, "Yes, well, it's simply so I can tell your fortune more accurately." Madame Rayne must have learned that television smile from Jhartha, or maybe there's some sort of school those actors go to, to learn how to smile like that. It's so unnerving to see that kind of sycophantic smile on the faces of two beautiful women such as Jhartha and Madame Rayne...
The grumpy woman finally divulges, "My name is Talula. I'm 68 years old. I want to know if I'll ever find my dead husband's will." She glares at Rayne defiantly, daring her to be wrong on this one.
Rayne clears her throat and nods, all business. She shuffles the cards and pushes them toward Talula, "Would you please cut the cards, Talula?" The woman indeed does, taking her sweet time to do so. Rayne places the cards down in a neat row and studies them for a few moments.<Continued in the next post>
Message: 20/23 Saturday, December 11, 1999Rayne furrows her brows and twists a strand of hair around her finger, tugging fiercely on it in concentration. Eventually, she speaks her tone of voice very serious and full of awe, "Your husband was a man of great status in this community. He was a rock, a pillar, some sort of authority figure in his lifetime."
Rayne watches the old woman's reactions carefully. The woman seems to soften somehow as she listens, but says nothing. Continuing, Rayne says, "He was very wise and his prudence provided well for you in his life. You're unnerved because you can't imagine him leaving you to struggle so in his death. You're right, he didn't do this, there was foul play involved."
With this, the old woman nods aggressively, mumbling, "I knew it, I just KNEW it."
Rayne reaches out and pats the woman's hand sympathetically. "Never you worry, you will prevail. There is some sort of craftsman, a skilled laborer who your husband trusted greatly. He left another copy of his will with this man."
The old woman rubs her forehead, obviously jogging her memory trying to think of who that could be.
Rayne desperately tries to think of more details, tugging even more roughly on her curl as she thinks, "Oh, yes, yes this man you know him, not well, but you have talked with him. He is young and has short brown hair. He's often seen wearing a blue apron, I think.."
Talula abruptly cuts Rayne off, "His newphew! Well, of course. He's been gone these past six months on some wild journey, but that makes perfect sense. Oh, thank you, thank you my dear!" Tears well up in the old woman's eyes and she reaches out to squeeze Rayne's hand.
Rayne smiles and nods, "You'll prevail in this, I just know it. Those who have hid your husband's will, they'll pay for their crime."
The old woman gets helped down to her seat by one of the support crew this time, an smile on her lips with the knowledge that her husband is exculpate in wishing her harm. Before Rayne can pick another volunteer, Jhartha gets the signal from the producers, and suddenly interrupts: "I'm sorry to say, Madame Rayne, but it looks like we're out time for tonight!"
Rayne accedes with a brief nod, and smiling wildly, the two shake hands with each other the credits roll. Well, lookit' that, Ole' Jimmy Flanaghert is the Junior Grip 3rd class!
Message: 20/24 Tuesday, February 1, 2000Militia Capture Footage
Aired mid-Summer, 108PAHeading the evening news lineup recently, this on-the-site piece was introduced by Jhartha before the screen cut to the action, the City Gates from an angle along Freedom Way:
A man with a cybernetic left eye in partial Bushman armour, with a Camerapod upon his shoulder appears on-screen. "This is J.J. Carmicheal reporting from Southgate on one of the current sources of concern over the recent rise in gangland tension."
The camera viewpoint pans out and around, showing the gate with its usual staff of Militia guards and the steady flow of traffic. When the angle coincides with the actual position of the camerapod upon J.J.C.'s shoulder, his voice begins again, just as a large haulage truck is pulled over, its identifying marks digitally erased.
"As you can see, despite the heavy use that Southgate receives, the militia still perform spot checks on most of the traffic, as well as more thorough searches on a random basis."
The driver, his face masked by a digital blur steps out of the truck, while a trio of Militiamen walk around the weigh-station to look at the back. The driver appears to balk somewhat at their movement, and the guards form something of a cordon at the rear, while their colleague watches the driver.
"The illegal weapons question, as you know is a major concern in the city at the current time. A number of gangs and organisations have levels of firepower rivalling that of the Militia and considerably overmatching anything that our beleaguered police force could field against them."
The rear door is opened, and the viewpoint zooms briefly, to provide a detail of spillage as garishly labelled vid-chips scatter over the tarmac. One guard leaps inside, as the driver is ushered down to join the trio.
"Finding a way to cut off the ongoing flow of these weapons into the city has been a matter of no small concern for our cities law enforcement community."
Suddenly, the viewpoint sharply drawn to him, the driver slaps a control on the side of the truck, sealing one of the Militiamen into the vehicle, then breaks around the cover of his cargo and ducks into the flow of traffic, running for all he's worth. The other Militiamen pursue, leaving one of their men stuck in the back of the impounded vehicle. Oddly, the camera leaves the chase scene for a few moments, to draw attention to the bored, resigned expressions of disinterest on other drivers' faces.
"As you can see, public disinterest in enforcement of the law is reaching somewhat epidemic proportions in some places. While vigilante groups like 'The Watchmen' allegedly operate in attempts to improve public safety, for the most part there is little concern over the ongoing breakdown of order."
The chase continues up and around the main ranks of traffic, while people move aside from the ruckus. The driver trips, stumbles and picks himself up once more, but the brief error is more than enough for the Militiamen to decrease his lead.
"It is perhaps most indicative of that condition that throughout the entire incident you see here, only one civilian other than myself paid more than cursory attention, and that a non-citizen genetically modified animal."
A feline-looking figure in a flowing outfit (Tenrai) steps between the cameraman and the oncoming figure. The angle shifts slightly, to get a view of the Militiamen producing sidearms behind him. The camera zooms in further to reveal that, of the three guards, two have unlimbered heavy ion pistols, the third a matt ceramic laser sidearm of some sort.
"Here we see another difficulty in the ongoing fight against crime in the city. Should these officers go armed with weapons unable to harm personal combat armour they would be ineffective, yet here they are unable to fire, even should they get a clean shot, without endangering dozens of unarmoured civilians on the street."
"MILITIA! PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR AND GET ON THE GROUND! NOW!" - The cry goes out loud and clear over a cut-scene jumping a few seconds back to the original viewpoint. The gennie pauses, raising her hands slowly while the driver, desperate but trapped, follows suit. A quick frisk for weapons of the driver and two of the Militiamen lower their sidearms, to cuff him. The mutant animal is allowed to leave after someone whose badge reads 'Gate Officer Rohannon' takes her name and details.
"And there we have it ladies and gentlemen, another day in the lives of our city Militia. The cargo turned out to be an illegal three-crate consignment of personal energy weapons being shipped into the city to supply the thriving black market in such items. While this one shipment has been stopped, who can say how many others slip through the net each hour, stockpiled towards the day when the rising tensions in our cities criminal element turns the streets into a bloodbath. This is J.J. Carmicheal, South Gate."Jhartha reappears as the screen cuts back to the newsroom, and after she explains that this Carmicheal is Channel One's newest field reporter, and makes a few weightless comments about the dire issue he presented, the show breaks for commercial.
Message: 20/25 Sunday, May 28, 2000Caldwell Speaks
Aired early Spring, 109PA
This broadcast is aired on every newsbreak between scheduled programs, to catch as many folks as possible. Jhartha Fjekkat introduces a filmed recording of the General, an dignified-looking middle-aged man with concern edged into his stern features. His eyes are brown and he doesn't seem to blink very often. His hair is a salt and pepper grey with pure white streaks of hair at his temples. He is currently outfitted in a very clean set of formal Military dress attire. A thin display of medals hang near his rank. In the background, the Militia Infirmary stands grey and solemn, the light and shadow setting his figure against it starkly. He speaks, his expression changing very little in the duration, and his voice heavy but measured:"Loyal citizens. There have been many disturbing rumors floating about both in the civilian body and our military ranks regarding the unfortunate cancellation of my promotion ceremony. I can assure you, that my subsequent hurried promotion was a necessity. Approximately two hours before I was to be publically promoted to General of Tolkeen's forces, Sergeant Ursela Ciavonli arrived at the eastern gates, dehydrated, battered by the elements and in a state of delirium.
"What many of you may or may not know by now is that Sergeant Ciavonli was part of the escort that left with General Wilkgar those many months ago. It was with great urgency that she was taken to the Militia infirmary to be treated. The Sergeant was in skilled medical hands within minutes of her arrival, but it seems that whatever willpower she spent in trying to reach us, left her when she succeeded in reaching our great city.
"I rushed to the medical facility swiftly in the hopes of gaining a clue to what information she could tell us about General Wilkgar and his party, ready in full capacity to act on the slightest amount of information she could give. What I and my staff were privy to was barely understandable and dire in tone. Unfortunately, our inpromptu debriefing was cut much too short and may have tapped the very last of her strength. The sergeant slipped into a coma not long after she tried to communicate whatever urgent message she had for us. Not wanting to risk the young woman's life, the medical team in charge of her treatment forbid risky measures to reawaken her. I have reluctantly agreed to take the safer route and await her eventual recovery from such a critical state.
"This is the reason why the official promotion was performed with great haste. The prospect of learning information about what happened to General Wilkgar demanded a leader of Tolkeen's forces in full capacity. One free to take immediate and decisive measures during a critical moment such as this.
"It was with great apprehension that I ordered the cancellation of the televised promotion in lieu of a much more spartan one. But I feel that for Tolkeen's greater good, swift action was the necessity rather than a grand display. I can promise to all of the citizens of Tolkeen, that something will be done to make up for the lack of a publicized promotion. But as of this moment, and mostly due in part to the limited information in our possession, long range reconnaisance patrols are being created and aggressive pushes through and beyond our borders will be initiated imminently. All of this is being undertaken to successfully uncover more clues to as what happened to General Wilkgar and determine whomever or whatever is responsible.
"I pray the brave young woman in critical condition recovers soon and our probes into the outlying territories are successful in discovering more. I ask of you all...your very best in the days ahead."The recording ends, and Jhartha reappears to quickly introduce the next segment, a rebroadcast of that day in the Plaza as reaction swept though the city over the cancellation of the live event.
<continued in next post>
Message: 20/26 Sunday, May 28, 2000The news studio is once again replaced by a scene in the Plaza sometime in the late afternoon. Walter, who commented on the live event from the studios at the time, continues from mid-sentence in a voice overlap as the story unfolds:
"...no substantiations to the false information being spread about General Wilkgar's return. To recap, we've just received notification from the militia press correspondent's office: Colonel Caldwell's promotional ceremony has been closed to the public and media for an unspecified reason. Rumors are spreading like wildfire through the city, among the most common is the return of General Wilkgar, although the militia and City council are flatly denying any such tales.
"At the scene of a growing confrontation over these rumors, in Freedom Plaza, is Channel One's own, Sydo Zandstra. Sydo is speaking to us live through the Channel One Action News video feed. Are you there, Sydo?" An image of a clean cut young man sporting a neatly parted hairdo that appears to be covered in something like clear shellac, gets frozen in the upper left hand corner of the screen. Walter seems to be yelling; perhaps he's forgotten about the wonders that modern technology can do with voice transfers. Never mind him, his parents just yelled really loud when they wanted to make a long distance call... "Are you there, Sydo? What's happening down there?"
The video feed shows what is apparently Sydo's arm holding the microphone, but the camera must be located on his shoulder through this whole mess. Several hundred feet off, near the wall of the rock labyrinth, the shot wavers on a thick ring of people surrounding a group of D-Bees, one of them a tall Wolfen. The Wolfen can be seen bullying a Militia cadet rather violently while the mob gathers more tightly around. One notable being on the fringe of the excited ring, the elf Tathrenil some would recognize, appears to be working against the tide of opinion, attempting to cajole the Wolfen into releasing the cadet.
Sydo answers Walter's query, "Yes, I'm here Walter. The scene here in the Plaza is at the verge of violence. A group of disgruntled beings have confronted at least one Militia member regarding rumors of General Wilkgar and the promotion of Colonel Caldwell..."
Walter's voice responds, "What's going on at the moment, Sydo? Has the Militia moved in to disperse the crowd?"
Sydo waits while the camera catches the figure of Rooke Del Reyhart shouting from within the milling circle, "Let's get -ahold- of ourselves, Citizens! What is this, a lynch mob?! Get the hell back!" For good measure, she adds, "You're stepping on my -damned- foot!!" Oh, this is just gold. Pure video gold. Ex-Councilwoman Del Reyhart throwing herself into the fray in a desperate attempt to placate the seething crowd. The Channel One producers just can't resist a shot like this; the camera jiggles as Sydo trucks in and catches her as she rises into the air like some sort of messiah figure. Over a majority of the crowd's head she urges, "C'mon, we're all acting like mindless cattle! The Coalition would laugh their -asses- off to see us like this! Dignity! Calm!" Oh wait, she is a messiah figure... that would explain the floating and the urge-for-calming and everything.
Several individuals in the masses near Rooke seem to recognize her stern voice or perhaps her face, but is most likely a mesh of the two. Sydo announces, "It seems the former Councilwoman has taken it upon herself to protect the poor Militia cadet being accosted by the Wolfen and its partners."
Her sudden introduction above the throng causes some to move away a tad, though there isn't much room to bustle about. While there is still dark rumblings and unfriendly noises coming from the grand mob of people inside the Plaza, those nearest Rooke seeming to be elbowing their neighbors for space and quiet.
Walter's voice asks, "Now, Sydo, are you hearing anything from where you are about the current situation with the Militia? I understand the Police are out in force?" Suddenly a burst of commotion from the center of the group attracts the camera's attention from a quick pan of the scene. It zips back in a dizzying blur, while Sydo manages to keep track of the question, "Yes Walter, the Tolkeen Police Force is taking an active role in controlling the crowd from the northern end of the Plaza it seems, although their numbers here are far too few to safely influence everyone here."
The camera focuses and zeroes in on a lone man, familiar to some as William of the Militia (casually dressed), who rushes forward to snatch the young cadet away from the Wolfen and drags him away from the grassy knoll. He appears to sock the young cadet in the gut while manhandling him through the angry crowd.
"...Oh Gods, it's suddenly taken a turn for the worse! It seems a member of the crowd has taken it upon himself to attack the cadet!" Sydo reports excitedly. The camera feed flickers for a bit as some stray static distorts the signal, some crackly reverberations that sound like someone talking over the signal. Walter's querying yammers overlap the static until the feed cuts entirely.The angle cuts back to real-time Jhartha Fjekkat in the Channel One studio, as she continues describing the scene where the camera left off, reporting that several moments later Councilbeing Fenris Te'akane came on the scene to urge the crowds to wait for the Militia's explanation. The gathering was dispersed peacefully afterwards with the help of the Police. The unfortunate cadet was treated for minor cuts, bruises, and shock, in the Druid's Grove, but was otherwise unharmed. Jhartha adds that official photos of the closed ceremony have been made available in the day's Town Crier, before turning to the other news of the hour.
Message: 20/27 Tuesday, May 30, 2000Militia Liaison Announced
This broadcast blankets the media over a 72 hour period. Though a more detailed analysis of the broadcast is given during the news and in the newspaper, the broadcast itself is shown between popular shows twice a day, morning and evening.Jhartha Fjekkat introduces a taped announcement sent via courier by Militia HQ. On the screen is a young human in his 20s standing against a backdrop of Freedom Square seen below through a window. His head is shaved clean and two obvious tattoos decorate his face. An inverted blue '8' is tattooed on his forehead, a black dagger tattooed through his right eye, its hilt resting on his temple. Unlike Caldwell in his full military dress, Christopher is encased in a suit of old-style Militia body armor the draconic crest of the city embossed on his chest plate. He folds his arms behind his back, smiles at the camera with a nod and begins to speak:
"Gentlebeings of Tolkeen, good day. My name is Christopher Allen and I've come to address you as a fellow citizen and as a member of the Tolkeen Militia. I feel I must apologize for the impersonal nature of this announcement. To be honest," he says, sitting on the ledge of the window "I was hoping for an open forum in the square itself," he says, gesturing with his hand to the window. "However, because of recent events, I did not have the time to plan such an event. I hope you will forgive me for addressing you directly without a chance to respond and pray that you will listen to my words and take them to heart.
"You might remember me as a loyal citizen serving the Militia in the Paranatural Assets Division before the war. Some of you may recall my face when I took charge of the Militia after the war. Others may have seen me in passing on the street and some of you may not know me from Adam, so to speak. It is my sincere hope that you will get to know me better as time moves forward." He pauses a moment and takes a sip from a glass of water sitting on the ledge beside him. He smiles and apologizes before continuing.
"I have recently been appointed to act as a bridge between the Militia and the citizens of Tolkeen. Acting in this capacity, I will be the one bringing you official reports from the Militia HQ. I will also make it a point to explain how these announcements will affect your lives and hopefully the reasoning behind the announcement. If I were to sum my position up, I'd say that I would be the face you see when you think of the Militia. For that, I apologize," he says with a chuckles and a warm smile.
"I'd like you to know that I will do my utmost to have an open door policy when it comes to my contact with the citizens. At the end of this broadcast, my electronic mail address and my com channel extension will be announced. I fully expect you to use it. If you have a question or concern or simply wish to express your opinions on how we're serving the community, I ask you to call or write." Obviously I am but one man. I doubt that I will be able to directly respond to each and every one of you. Because of this, I will be bundling the most common questions and comments into a free newsletter that will be distributed on a bi-weekly basis through the mail system.
"Please do not think that I will be holed away in my office, furiously writing away and answering your calls. I will do my best to be a face on the street as well, interacting with you on a personal basis as time permits. I don't expect that each and every one of you has a vid set or a phone and we all know that not everyone knows how to write. How am I to serve those citizens? In person...I will be visiting all," he emphasizes the word 'all,' "of the districts of the city to make you aware of my presence and listen to your words. I hope that as we move forward you make use of my services. I hope to be seeing you all soon. Thank you for your kind attention..."
Message: 20/28 Sunday, July 30, 2000Militia Mission Broadcast
Aired during Summer, 109PAThis broadcast first airs in the evening, then is reused in later news segments during the week, as well as on the smaller television stations of Tolkeen. In the newsroom, Jhartha Fjekkat and Walter Riely flank their guest, a Militia Liaison, who introduces the following piece as containing real footage taken from their recent reconnaisance mission beyond the borders of Tolkeen. In light of the recent bad press, the Militia has produced this presentation in order to give the citizens a better understand of what their armed forces do. The liaison concludes by saying that a victory for the Militia is a victory for all of Tolkeen.
A bright Militia symbol appears on a black background and a triumphant roar of brass instruments comes to life. A TV cross-dissolve removes this to show a scene where six Militia helicopter transports taxi from a military hangar onto a takeoff tarmac. A firmly expressive male voice-over does a run-on commentary throughout the footage. "Only about a week ago, a courageous mission was undertaken by our long-range reconnaissance patrols..." One by one the helicopters launch off into the early morning dawn and swoop off past the city walls, disappearing from sight. "Recent intelligence reports had indicated a strong Coalition presence near our borders and High Command deemed it necessary to the security of our fair territory that these fascists not gain a significant foothold."
The scene changes to a shot of the interior of one of the transport helicopters. The look of the footage seems to indicate that the camera is mounted somehow upon the shoulder of one of the soldiers. In the lower right-hand corner of each shot displayed is the more stationary overlay of the recording soldier's name next to a red dot. Clearly, one might say 'overwhelmingly', audible are the staccato-buzz sounds of propellors in blurred rotation, and the high-powered whine of rear turbines. Twelve personnel in a new style of Tolkeen Militia camouflage armor are clustered together in the rattling interior of the craft, checking weapons, applying dark paint to their faces and looking all like brave and courageous young beings. The mix of species and gender in this grouping seems rather notably varied. Now confirmed is the presence of a camera attachment on each of the armor suits. "Just one of the squads being sent far beyond the protective walls of Tolkeen to do their duty and gather crucial information on the movements of our sinister arch-nemesis."
The next scene cut to is from within one of the helicopters. A soldier lit up in the red glow of the craft interior is hauling the side door open; wind howls inside the cramped compartment. Outside, the darkening wild horizon is stationary, the sky an inky purple as the sun drops out of view. Two by two, the now fully-armored personnel move to the edge and toss readied rappeling gear out the gaping doorway, then exit the helicopter in a single bound, quick and efficient. The lines of cord snap taut as the out-of-sight troops climb the rest of the way down. One particularly zealous trooper practically dives to his death with a daring leap and a boisterous cowboy whoop. Moments after he disappears beyond the edge of the craft floor, the cord seems to slacken suspiciously, though it snaps straight again in the next second. "Ready at a moment's notice and strenuously trained in a variety of military skills, troopers disperse from their transports to begin the arduous and dangerous trek towards their objective."
Halfway through the monologue, the camera view cuts to some densely wooded areas; night has fallen, and thousands of crickets chirp en masse. From what must be a mounted camera with passive night vision and a concealed position comes a suspenseful scene. A Coalition Dogpack is displayed in varying tones of green grainy detail, as they travel past, taking no notice of the viewer. "Concealment, avoiding open conflict and other stealthy training gives our soldiers the edge needed to employ guerrilla tactics successfully. Here we see just one of the many enemy patrols that was evaded by our personnel. Our soldiers are put through strenuous training to blend in with the forest and outwit our aggressors."
Tense music accompanies this next series of nightvision shots that involve a desperate conflict between Skeletal robots and Tolkeen's Recon Forces. In a rapid series of cuts and new camera angles we see three Militia Scouts, two humanoids and one mutant canine, facing off against their two cold Skelebot enemies. Laser fire and the slashing of wrist-mounted vibro-blades streak about the viewscreen in almost cinematic proportions, mostly in first-person views from the Tolkeenite fighters in this heated battle. The names 'Private Wulf', 'Private Nenlom', and 'Corporal Ruby' flash on and off of the viewscreen overlay as the angle changes. "But sometimes combat is quite unavoidable. The Coalition forces have planted all manner of traps and relentless robotic adversaries for our forces to overcome." The end result of the combat is that both Skelebots have been dispatched by the teamwork of the three Scouts. "But through working as a united force, even these are overcome by our brave soldiers, but not without sacrifice and the always present reality that they are what stands between these invaders and Tolkeen's city walls."<continued in next post>
Message: 20/29 Sunday, July 30, 2000A new scene shows a night-time view of a heavily fortified compound situated within a large clearing of the forest, and illuminated brightly from certain landing beacons. Four large buildings, gun-mounted turrets and patrols of CS-armored soldiers are panned by on several different Militia Scout viewpoints. The view shifts towards the barbed wire defenses where an assortment of animalistic predator corpses hang in a grisly display. "The first objective is met and our forces position themselves about the Coalition's installation. The word comes from High Command to take the base and any information possible." A camera view trained upwards towards the night sky zooms in (retroactive editing it looks like) as streaks of artillery and magical bolts course overhead towards the base, and begin to pummel the facility.
The compound is lit up by the subsequent explosions and Tolkeen's operatives rush towards the different buildings, trading spurts of weaponsfire as they try to find cover. The ensuing battle as seen from multiple cameras is furious and chaotic; the audio track is alive with deafening eruptions, muffled radio transmissions, and the crackling of flames. Further tense music rolls in the background as the thrilling scene unfolds. The artfully edited footage shows CS soldiers being overcome by artillery and laser fire in scenes which would make any movie director beg to access. It looks like a repeat of the terrible Invasion of 105 PA, except for the fact that it's the Coalition who are getting thrashed this time. The audio voice-over declares dramatically, "Numerous acts of courage, skill and determination... The chance to avenge their home and family... The chance to send the CS a message." Views of the wounded being ferried to helicopters and a tear-jerking scene where a trooper tries to resuscitate a fallen comrade are given due screentime. "But there is always a cost. This is a fact of life that every enlisted officer takes upon their shoulders. Their life's blood has been shed for the love of their fair kingdom and a sworn duty to protect its loyal inhabitants. The amazing coordination and planning undertaken have ensured minimal losses of our brave men, women, and beings."
A new rollicking scene of tension takes the viewscreen as operatives rush across the fire-lit clearing to waiting helicopters, carrying their comrades and equipment while around them things explode in showers of flame and debris, and the sounds of war pound the audio track. The helicopters lift off and from within, one Sgt. Charette's camera view films the receding ground and remains of the flaming and decimated outpost. "Just one of the war installations denied to the Coalition in the future. Such missions are imperative to making sure the nefarious Coalition States never have a foothold on our doorstep. They'll soon find that loss of such equipment, personnel and critical info to be highly damaging to their war efforts on our territory. Captured intelligence, a goldmine of information now in our hands will provide High Command with invaluable strategic ammunition. This, coupled with our array of new equipment and talent will ensure an advantage over the heinous Coalition forces."
A panning shot of the interior of one of the returning helicopters: All within the cramped confines display a mix of emotions - Relieved... steely eyed... sensitive and stoic at the same time. "Touched by the horrors of war but voluntarily taking this huge responsibility to defend our kingdom, these are just a few of your stalwart defenders and a few moments glimpsed, of what they take upon themselves to keep all of us free from tyranny..." One of the figures, a battered young male with his helmet off resting on his knee, manages a tired grin directly at the camera and hefts his gloved hand in a spirited thumbs-up. The view freezes on that perfect, poignant gesture, and after a few seconds, the recorded film footage fades to black and the Militia Insignia.
Message: 20/30 Monday, September 25, 2000Accidental Taxi
Aired early Autumn (during the Dreams Plague), 109PAA snippet of the Sun day Night review on Channel One. The image on the screen shows a vehicle impaled into a glass storefront, while Tolkeen PD officers measure off distances and assess damages to the building and it's superstructure. Walt voices over as the clip ends, shrinking in size and migrating over his right shoulder, "...While the contents of Mr. Fer'ak'lax's store were lost, no one was inside the store at the time of the accident. Mr. Fer'ak'lax, the driver of the vehicle was found to have ingested over 600 milligrams of caffeine before leaving the store, more than three times the legal limit for those of his species."
The image switches to another vehicle accident, and Walter continues his spiel: "A second accident occurred earlier that same day, a Mr. Wen Digo, of the "Speedy Fleet Cabbie" company crashed his private vehicle while off duty, Tiews Day morning. Our cameras were on the scene as the accident occurred..."
The camera just barely catches the sound of squealing tires and honking horns and is immediately snatched off the ground by the cameraman. The resulting motion that would probably have made every single viewer motion sick, is thankfully damped out as the small letterbox expands to fill the screen once the less chaotic jiggling is over. The camera still shakes occasionally as the cameraman pounds across the pavement of Freedom Plaza. Two other men race ahead of the cameraman, one: obviously Walter Riely, the other: A cowboy hat and duster wearing man.
The cameraman huffs and puffs and lags behind William (a regular fixture on action news, t'would seem) and Walter as they trot across the plaza to the scene of the accident. As the two near the high-centered light truck, the man places the heavy camera on his shoulder and continues to trot. As Walter nears the truck he runs around to the driver's side door to see what he can do to help the person inside the vehicle. After all, appearing to be a courageous and fast thinking 'hero' makes for good ratings...
From the camera's viewpoint, it seems some idiot light-truck driver has high-centered his vehicle on a fire-hydrant, in reverse no less. A second fire hydrant a couple hundred feet down the street appears to be spraying water straight up into the air.
William skids around the other side of the truck, away from the camera that is apparently busy tracking the 'heroic' Walter. Hanging out just at the edge of the camera's gaze. he kicks up his collar and tucks his hat down more to cover his face. With such small precautions taken, he moves back around to the passenger side to see what had caused the strange accident.
The only passenger of the vehicle is the driver, a white, down covered, tentacle eyed Dbee slumped over the steering column. Its eyes are covered over with a thin, milky film, and partially retracted into its half-moon shaped skull. It's long, tongue lolls out of its mouth, a mouth with no teeth and instead a pair of hard 'mashies'. The camera zooms in for a brief moment over the shoulder of Walter as he pounds upon the driver's side window, trying to attract the driver's attention. The glare of the morning sun off the passenger window partially obscures the contents of the cab, but a quick twist with the polarizing filter reveals a bag of green stick-leaf-roll-things lays partially open at the being's side. It's pretty obvious that they're some sort of 'pick-me-up'...
Walter tugs on the door latch, only to find the door of the truck is locked, the reporter runs around the vehicle for a moment to the back of the vehicle, where there appears to be a rear sliding window, just big enough for a man to slide through and into the cab. The truck rumbles for a moment, then backfires loudly all of the sudden before continuing to rumble away merrily, the tires trying their hardest to spin backwards in the air.
The camera jiggles for a moment, as if losing power or tracking somehow, and then reveals William as he draws a large vibroblade from his duster, then the quiet telltale buzz as he jambs the blade into the edge of the door and yanking it upward; the blade shears through the lock. The blade quiets as it disappears back into the folds of the duster, and the door swings open easily at his tug. Leaning into the small cab he reaches around the quasi-conscious D-bee and turns off the ignition before reaching around to open the driver side door for Walt. A quick wink to the newsman, that the camera catches of course (..a star is born!), and he's off back into the crowd.<continued in next post>
Message: 20/31 Monday, September 25, 2000With the door now open, Walter skips his attempt to enter by the back window and instead drops back down to the ground and shakes the Dbee gently, perhaps trying to wake it up, or look it over for any obvious injuries. All the while, Walter shouts to the creature, "Sir, are you all right? Are you all right?"
The creature's eyes slowly emerge from their protective hiding place and waggle slowly over in the direction of the reporter shaking him.
The tongue retracts and the mashies come together with a loud, "Click!". A few more jittery clicking sounds come from the creature before the vocoder around its neck intones "Yes... stop shaking me.". The creature looks around and clicks, "What happened?"
The camera catches William rolling one of the odd stick and leaf rolls from the truck in his hand, with a small shrug he tucks the roll into a deep pocket. Turning back to watch the ongoing 'rescue', a crooked smile forms as he watches Walter shake the d-bee back to living. The cowboy begins moving around in some sort of half-hearted attempt to keep out of the camera's view.
Walter points behind the Dbee to the tail of the truck sticking up into the air, "You had an accident, sir... Do you need any help exiting the vehicle? Are you hurt or damaged in any way?" Walter looks the Dbee over with anticipation, if injured; this could make the first five minutes of the broadcast tonight. If it walks away unharmed, a measly 1 minute 30 of airtime during the last quarter hour of the news, which seems to be the case.
The Dbee waggles its eyes and then nods, clicking, "I just remember being very tired... then I wake up... here." The pale white creature looks down at the partially opened bag of green stick-things and picks one up, shoving it into its mouth and crunching away on it. The creature' eyes finally catch sight of the camera, and it asks, dipping one eye back down into its protective covering, "Am I on TV?"
The cameraman sidesteps out to get a better angle on the camera and zooms in to focus on the creature's head and very expressive eye-motions as it responds to Walter's questions. Walter barely suppresses the urge to throttle the Dbee, why does EVERY person in this town have to ask if they're on TV?. Walter recovers, by haughtily announcing, "Well, I'm no Xeno-Medical Specialist, but I think you're gonna' be all right. Why don't you come with me, and we'll get you to a doctor, okay?" Without waiting for the Dbee to say anything, Walter turns to the camera and signs off, "I'm Walter Riely, for Channel One Action News, signing off."
The letterbox shrinks down once more over Walter's right shoulder, as he comments on the story. Looking back into the camera, he announces: "The driver was then taken to the Tolkeen Medical Center for supervision and was treated for a minor concussion. He was released earlier that afternoon. His employers comment that they have since suspended Mr. Digo's license until further notice." The letterbox changes to a cartonnish graph pointing up superimposed over an image of yet another vehicle accident, while the camera switches to Jartha Fjekkat. "In other stories, on Woden's Day we told you about the /alarming/ increase of vehicular accidents over the past two weeks. Tolkeen P.D. statistics indicate a /ten/ percent increase in traffic accidents over last year alone..."
Message: 20/32 Sunday, January 7, 2001Dreams Ring Leader Captured
This major segment is included with every hourly news broadcast on the public vidchannels and featured on the Channel One Evening News (late Samhain, 109PA):The all-round attractive D-Bee Jhartha Fjekkat, decked out in her new fall wardrobe (courtesy of Channel One Broadcasting advertisers, of course), stands on Lazlo Avenue East, across the street from the Militia Training Academy. Her well-coiffed brown tresses are only slightly windblown around the ivory bone-ridge that sweeps from the bridge of her nose and curls into horns along the sides of her head.
"It's a rather blustery day to-day, but I'm here by the Militia Headquarters to try and get a glimpse out to our viewers.." she pauses, looking to the side hurriedly, "..of the results of the latest Militia maneuver, that is, the capture of the ringleader of renegade mages, in a mountain stronghold to the west."
Her voice rises slightly in pitch and dramatically in volume as a number of armored carriers come through in the background, crunching road debris beneath their treads. "This would be the same band of troublemakers who wrought havoc on Tolkeen and her psychic population last month." She begins moving hastily but camera-consciously in the direction of the APCs that are grinding to a halt further down the street. At the same time, a number of other people converge on the site, other reporters it seems, with photographers in tow.
An abrupt camera cut changes the viewscreen to a close-up shot of one of the APCs as the entryway hatch comes down. There are suddenly a lot of armored soldiers present, ringing out to keep the civilians at bay.. for their own protection, of course. The scene shakes a bit, then trucks out to include Jhartha in shot, reluctantly being herded back by a Militia guardsman, even though she talks non-stop in slightly petulant tones, as if he should know who she is and defer to her journalistic presence. She is joined by a flock of other voices as a number of figures appear in the hatchway opening and start down the ramp.
"How many prisoners have been taken? Can we ask them a few questions? Has the base in the mountains been completely demolished? Sir! Did you find the source of the dream plague? Which one is the ringleader?"
There are, of course, no immediate answers. Heavy footsteps ringing, the soldiers emerging from the APC are in full, heavy Militia armor painted a deep red, battle-scarred and scorched. On the center of their chests, and both shoulders are embossed medallion insignias, of a double-edged sword pointing downwards, laid over the burning ball of a sun, with a few of its molten flare-ups caught frozen in time. The general public would recognize these rather elitely uniformed forces as usually accompanying General Caldwell in bodyguard capacity. Held between pairs of these personnel are three figures in voluminous prisoner garb, cuffed in magic restraints, with dark grey cloth draped over their heads. They shuffle along down the ramp, borne by the elbows by the soldiers at their sides, and make no effort to struggle against their bonds. The last one in line is particularly interesting; something in the figure's carriage, even while being manhandled along by its captors, makes it look more like a dignified, leisurely escort.
It's all well and mysterious, but it's less than what the reporters expected to get from this opportunity. They clamor anew for a glimpse of the prisoners and a chance to ask just a few questions, but it seems to no avail. The blood-red soldiers completely ignore the civilian presence as they haul their prisoners through the cleared space towards a large, low slung building on the south side of Lazlo. The camera starts to pan over and center on Jhartha as she turns, flustered, back to face her viewers, microphone settling back below her chin. "Well, it seems-.."
Just then, a commotion in the ranks draws the viewpoint away again in a dizzying blur, to truck in and focus on the last prisoner in the escort. Somehow, the headcloth has been dragged down and lost between the bodies, and while the soldiers halt and grab for it underfoot, the figure's visual identity is revealed to be that of a heart-stoppingly lovely woman, in spite of being shackled, messed-up, and gagged, or perhaps even more so because of the stark contrast. She's tall and lissome, pale-skinned under the dirt, with her glossy cornsilk blonde hair chopped rudely off at the nape of her neck. Her eyes are limpid and darkest green, unnatural amongst such a pale setting, blessed with lush lashes the color of ripe wheat. Her features are aquiline and sublime, graceful beyond what is human on this petty and damned earth. The set of her posture is easy and poised, her movements ethereal but deliberate. At first in profile, she looks over her shoulder and almost directly at the camera, the incline of her head and the eloquence of her expression speaking levels of wistfulness, serenity, and concerns that are far above the deeds of man. Flashbulbs from both sides overexpose her image, turning her into a transported spirit for a few split-seconds. Then just as suddenly, the dirt-smudged cloth comes back down over her head, extinguishing the spell she's had on the camera. The procession continues wordlessly forward and into the building.
Jhartha looks disappointed (and like a sack of potatoes in comparison, unfortunately) as the viewpoint pans back to her, and she utters into the mike, "We'll bring you more coverage of the Militia capture of criminal suspects in last month's dreams and insomnia plague, as the story unfolds. I'm Jhartha Fjekkat, filling in for Walter Riely, for Channel One News."
Message: 20/33; Thursday, February 8, 2001Hallowe'en Broadcast
Moon day, Norand 2nd, 109 PA.
Jhartha Fjekkat looks up at the camera as the Action News opening credits finish rolling, with a flashy smile, even more so than usual for her cheery on-screen personality... maybe Walter cracked a dirty joke just seconds before the cameras went on-air. Walter does look like he's struggling to resist bursting into laughter, as the opening music fades away and the camera zooms in to focus on Jhartha as she begins her spiel.
"Good evening," she pauses momentarily as Walter makes a sort of snorting snicker and accidentally rolls off his chair onto the floor. Of course, none of this is exactly visible on camera, the clues to Walter's shenanigans happen to be an arm flying up on camera, and a shuffling sort of thump registering on the mike. Ahh, the glories of live broadcasts and the unpredictable onset of the giggles.
"I'm Jhartha Fjekkat, and the laughing fool to my right is Walter Riely," Jhartha quickly adlibs as Walter regains his seat and holds his breath for a moment to keep from giggling again. "Lines were high and tensions were..." She starts, but stops again and nearly falls off /her/ chair as she valiantly resists laughing. Luckily, Walter takes the lead, this time having regained his composure enough to wheeze out, "Tensions were high and lines were long at the city-gates Sun day, as..." he coughs slightly before wrenching his face into a neutral expression and continuing quickly, "...as several checkpoint stations were closed due to an excessive number of equipment malfunct...ions." Walter struggles to finish that last syllable before the camera cuts off him and the scene is replaced by stock footage of the normally long lines of the city's southern gate
The footage being shown involves the usual checkpoint processes, nameless, random faces depositing their weapons into plastic boxes and being handed a plastic weapons receipt check with a digital inventory stored upon it; individuals passing through a number of TW and mundane weapons check stations, others handing over or receiving their two day pass or displaying their citizenship card.
As the nameless faces continue on their endless forward motion, Walter's voice, probably recorded, rings out over the air. "The early morning of the Thirty-first, started like any other at the city-gates: long, slow moving lines, almost overwhelming the militia's capabilities for controlling entrance to the city on the best of days." Walter's voice pauses slightly for effect, "By the late afternoon however, the long lines had gotten even longer, and seemed to have slowed to almost snail-like pace as checkpoint officers struggled to keep up with the volume despite numerous equipment failures throughout the day."
"And the entire problem was caused by this," Walter's voice pauses as the footage on screen changes to a close up of a carved wand-like device constructed of something that vaguely resembles bakelite, with a number of wriggly chainlike metal appendages and a tiny light bulb attached for good measure. "A weapons detection device used by the Militia in conjunction with numerous other sensors and scanners to find contraband, explosives, biological agents, or other weapons not declared earlier in the entrance process." Walter's tone changes to one of mild confidentiality as the film footage displays the proper usage of the detection device. Despite its disturbing resemblance to a sexual appliance, it is harmlessly passed over the outside surface of the body before lighting up and beeping over the contents of the owner's pocket. The strangely calm being undergoing the search simply remains still and allows the militia to discover whatever is hidden inside the offending pocket. The Militia officer overseeing the search reaches into the pocket and withdraws a rather nasty looking weapon from the being's pocket. It's immediately clear that this footage must be from a training-vid, and not taken from real experience. Would any normal person be so calm when the Militia pulls such a dangerous looking device from his pocket?<Contined in Next Post>
Message: 20/34 Thursday, February 8, 2001"According to militia sources, several of the Civilian gate checkpoints had to be closed due to an excessive number of errors with the detection system late in the afternoon of the 31st." Walter explains rather wryly, "The errors occurred in a, quote, 'Relatively small number of batches', end quote. Standard procedure in instances such as these is to replace the faulty devices with functional equipment."
The footage switches back to that of the crowded checkpoint lines, this time showing the entirety of the southern gate, checkpoints and all. Several of the many lines are rather comically eliminated by the cartoonish application of a giant red "X" followed by the cheery "Ding" of a micro-wave timer.
Walter's voice overwhelms the cheery sound effects, "Unfortunately, temporary delays in the central supply system resulted in too few functioning detectors. This bottleneck resulted in up to two hour-long delays for the average individual, many of whom were flocking to Tolkeen to take in the usual Hallowe'en festivities found throughout the city..."
The cartoonish "X"s disappear, as the obviously Recorded-Walter finishes his spiel, the image returning to an obviously real Walter (or at least real enough to fool most people). The only evidence to indicate his former goofiness is the slight muss to his hair, and the tight little grin he seems to be doing a fine job at controlling now. Walter lets the grin slowly spread throughout his face, as the camera switches to a thoroughly under-control Jhartha Fjekkat with an stylized, antique telephone being used as the image over her left hand shoulder.
"In other stories tonight, The Tolkeen Communication Commision, announced yesterday that a series of errors in the civilian cellular and telephone network resulted in dozens of reports of disconnections, bad connections, and what appear to be unintentional prank calls on Hallowe'en. Just what caused the incident could not be determined. On a rather humorous side-note, Channel One received an enormous amount of calls on our Viewer Feedback line on that night," Jhartha quirks her face up into that so familiar expression of humorous doubt while continuing, "Although, we aren't exactly sure... /what/ they're calling about..." Jhartha winks at the camera before her image is replaced by that of a calm blue screen with a digital clock reading out some random time in the middle of the night.
A noise like the ringing of a phone is audible, and written on the blue screen are the words: "(Ringing)" A few rings later, and the phone seems to pick up in the middle of a conversation being carried on by a shrill voiced woman: "_not wearing anything, what are you wearing? Hello? Hello? Kurl? Are you there? Damnit.. that bastard hung up on me..." The digital clock swings forward 30 minutes or so, "...like three boxes of spicy Chix delivered to_ Welcome to the Zamphoon Motors Customer Care Center, please hold, all of our operators are busy_" Another two hours later, this time a sultry whispery voice: "_rub the_" followed by the timer swinging forward just a scant 2 minutes and muzak coming from line, "...press star-three to contact the erectile dysfunction clinic..." With that, the slightly funny, if strange, audio collage finishes and Channel One cuts to a commercial... Oh the things people will do to get on television...
Message: 20/35 Thursday, February 15, 2001Gang Fight Re-Broadcast
Saturn Day, Norand 7th 109 PA"...never seen anything like it!" shouts a cartoon creature vaguely resembling a little child-goblin pulling a round wafer shaped piece of what must be candy from its turnip shaped Jack-o-Lantern bucket. The child-goblin's playmates, a pair of human children and another generic looking Dbee, peer at the strange object and crowd around it outside some generic looking, but festively decorated, doorstep in what must be suburban Tolkeen. Suddenly, a bolt of cartoonish looking lightning flashes through the sky; knocking out the power to the house's porch light and leaving the children standing in cartoonish blackness, save for the bright white-ness of their eyes and the eerie blue glow of the candy wafer.
"It glows!" over-enthusiastically exclaims one child, as it so blatantly points out the obvious that even the slowest of Tolkeen children will understand the mystical significance of such a candy delight. Surely... if it glows, it must be exactly the sort of thing to nag your parents into buying for you every time they take you with them to the store. The Little Goblin descants on the various properties of candy goodness the little confection possesses, such as its cool lunar blast of peppermint flavoring, or warm buttery coconut filling guaranteed to clog the virgin arteries of the young. "_and you can be sure that ten percent of the profits will be donated to the militia, along with a whole case sent to every staff-sergeant on the front! Keep up the good work, fellas!"
The slightly out of date commercial ends, thankfully, with the following caveat, "...we better hurry! These special glowing Hallowe'en "Lunar Mint Pies" won't be in stores for very long!" as the Little Goblin winks knowingly at every anklebiter in Tolkeen, or perhaps subliminally instructing parents to spoil their children with filling-removing-and-cavity causing sugary confections.
The annoying commercial ends and Channel One News returns with its Saturn day evening edition. Apparently, the commercial came near the tail end of the broadcast, the previous forty-five minutes undoubtedly filled with such important topics as the weather or the latest gadgetry or scientific advance to come from the civilian market. After a brief update on a heating-fuel price hike imposed by the Tolkeen fuel-mongers, Walter Riely gives a repeat presentation of Freya day's headline report.
"...Thor's Day afternoon when Tolkeen Militia Corporal Chax Hollander was wounded during an exchange of weapons fire on Tarn and Brimstone. Two others were critically injured." Walter's head disappears and is replaced by footage of the scene, while he continues to report, "Gharolde Toompsin a systems efficiency analyst for Zamphoon Motors was shot in the head during the exchange and taken to the Tolkeen Medical center in critical condition, where he later died during emergency surgery. Corporal Hollander was treated successfully and has since returned to duty. The third casualty, purported to be the leader of the adolescent gang that instigated the gun-battle was declared dead on the scene."<Continued in next post>
Message: 20/36 Thursday, February 15, 2001The footage on the television screen shows the remains of a parked vehicle, its engine turned to a molten-and-solidified puddle of slag on the pavement. Maintenance crews were backing up a tow-truck to remove the road hazard of the double-parked vehicle. Just as quickly as the image of a molten vehicle flashes on screen, it is replaced by the shattered plexan of an Ollie's Treats restaurant front window, along with the bullet-riddled remains of a order-taking menu-box.
The bullet riddled sign wipes to the face of a slightly stunned and acne ridden Ollie's Treats employee fiddling with a crumpled paper hat in his hands as he speaks breathlessly, "There were these kids at the door, and this white guy, and this chick and she didn't like her hamburger, and this one guy threatened to get me fired, and he didn't like his hamburger, and this guy who liked his hamburger, and then all of the sudden this big guy just attacks this kid, and they all pulled guns, he kind of reached out and grabbed him by the ear, and this white guy ran away, and then they started shooting, and then the lights flickered, and then the big guy goes running down the street and he's swinging this thing, and then the glass shatters, and then it's like *blam* *blam* *blam* and we're down on the ground, and I cut myself on some glass, see? And then the police showed up, and everything's all right, but there's this woman screaming, and this one car is totaled, but everyone else was all right, and then this ambulance came, and then the policeman argued with this one guy... and he had a hat... and he almost pulled his gun.. but everything was all right, and there were these two... and they picked this guy up... and... and that's pretty much it."
The teenager finishes his rendition of the incident and takes a deep breath before the screen wipes again, this time to that of Police Lieutenant Smythe wearing the standard issue bullet-proof vest issued to all police-members. The Police Lt. stands beside the open door of his squad car, with two individuals sneering at the camera from the backseat.
"...incident involved the Militia Corporal, Chax Hollander, a large number of 13 to 16 year old boys, and a non-citizen by the name of Stromko Verbota. Currently we have two wounded men, both in critical condition. The apparent leader of the gang was killed during the exchange of gun-fire, and we can safely say that it was due to Corporal Hollander's weapon that the youth is no longer alive," announces the Lieutenant, as he idly plays with something off camera. "Corporal Hollander and the other wounded citizen have been moved to medical facilities, and are undergoing emergency treatment. We can't comment on what actually caused the incident, but we can say that despite the fact that many of the youths escaped capture, several of the suspected perpetrators are in our custody awaiting trial." With that, Walter Riely replaces the Police Lt., as he continues with an update to the story.
"While the police are unable to release the suspected perpetrators' names, the youths have had their pre-trial hearing set for the morning of Norand 12th. In that time, the police will be questioning residents of the neighborhood regarding the child gang. If you are a resident of the Tarn and Brimstone area, or have information which would be useful to the police investigation, we urge you to dial 45-TIPS..." the reporter concludes, as his partner Jhartha Fjekkat wraps up this evening's broadcast.
"Finally tonight, we show you scenes from what some would call, a better time... The New Globe Theater is showing triple features of antique films free until the fifteenth... pard'ner" After butchering the stereotypical greeting, she looks into the camera, and pantomimes raising her "hat" in a salute. Dramatic music drowns out her words, and her face is replaced by scratchy footage of an antique Western. With that, the ending credits of the Channel One Action News are shown, before cutting to commercial once more. Thankfully, the commercial is an advertisement for Zamphoon motors, and not an out of season plea to the children of Tolkeen to buy more candy...
Message: 20/37 Thursday, February 22, 2001Oracle's Words Challenged
Freya day Evening, Norand 20th 109 PA"...Citizens throughout Tolkeen are waiting in apprehension of the Oracle's latest prophecy. Earlier this week, which marked the last pilgrimage to the holy site before the frost, the Oracle announced:" Walter glances down at the stack of paper in his hands as he quotes: "'Dark times befall Tolkeen, for the One chosen by Apollo Himself, was-is-will be lured away from all that is familiar. Her passing will mark the beginning of ill days for all...'" The reporter's voice doesn't falter during the quote, and no sign of distress comes over the airwaves. Walter looks back into the camera for a moment, his professionalism making the not-so-implied threat by the Oracle seem somewhat diminished in its nature, as if there were all the time in the world to make little signs proclaiming: 'The End is Near'. Maybe that's just Walter's unconscious attempt to calm himself, in addition to what must be thousands of hysterical citizens throughout the city.
Walter continues his report, "According to popular belief held by the Followers of the Oracle of Delphi, the Oracle has made numerous predictions throughout the past regarding the future and safety of the city. One such prophecy named former-Councilor Rooke del Reyhart as Tolkeen's "Chosen One", and led the Then-Councilmember Jericho Trimus, to name her as his successor..."
Undoubtedly, any "informed" viewer watching this segment would be thinking, or shouting: 'Yes, yes, half the people in Tolkeen already know this, get on with it! What's going to happen! Tell us! Tell us, Mister News-man!' All the while, strangling their favorite throw pillow or family pet in anticipation. Walter continues to drag the report out with his useless background stories, until the screen mercifully cuts away to a street scene, framing an average citizen, blabbering about his wartime experience:
"Well, I st'll re'mber it, clear as day, yeup... we'ad all been led down inta' tha tunnels, an' we were all tired, scared, an' dirty, when tha' Oracle... bless her soul, she shouted out in tha' commandin' voice o' Apollo 'imself. 'These things'll be a sign!' an' 'Guard tha' Labrynth, or tha' face a' death'll walk tha' streets an' night'll become day, fer' this sh'll be where tha' prophecy an' tha' Chosen one sh'll be revealed!' Tha's wha' she said, clear as day, yeup." The wide-faced old leather cobbler finishes his spiel and places the over-sized fuzzy-eared hat back atop his large head.
The camera switches to a completely different scene and season altogether. The scene now shows a crowd of confused and anxious press-reporters clustered within Tolkeen City Hall. Walter's voice-over continues, explaining the leap forward in history: "In late Julius of 107, Del Reyhart resigned from the Council with these rousing words, while denouncing the Oracle's prophecy before much of Tolkeen..."
Rooke stands behind the podium at the head of this conference, and speaks as the camera zooms in and focuses shakily on her face, "...Of all these things, you should be proud.. proud of yourselves for coming this far, and determined to continue the legacy of freedom and peace that our fallen citizens and countrymen, among those former Council Brimstone and the Dirksens, fought for. It is at this point in the making of our history, that I will be leaving Council." She pauses a moment, looking over the blur of expectant faces for their reaction as they burst into a babble of impromptu questions flung at Rooke with no concern for decorum. The bobbing heads of the reporters jostle about frantically, their questions mixing together to create an incoherent jumble of speech. The scene then jumps slightly, as if something's been edited out... or it could be the fact that they just switched cameras on the press meeting. Those editors can be tricky like that.
A slightly younger Walter pipes up from within the mob of reporters. "What about you being named the Chosen One by The Oracle? The Coalition is still encroaching on our territory. Don't you think that Tolkeen still needs you?"
Rooke falls silent, the breath leaving her for a few moments, and the blood alternately leaves her face, then surges back in a flush of tawny color. She stares at Walter, then beyond him to the front doors of City Hall, perhaps planning her escape. Finally, coming back to herself, she shakes her head and mutters, "No... The Oracle was wrong. I'm not the Chosen One." With those fateful words still ringing from the speakers, the last bit of image revealed in the old footage is that of a mob of reporters, shouting to be addressed.<Continued in Next Post>
Message: 20/38 Thursday, February 22, 2001Walter and the newsroom reappear onscreen, and he takes up in the silence that follows the outburst from the file-footage. "Despite Del Reyhart's announcement, many in the city continued to ignore her words, pointing out that 'The Oracle has never been wrong.' According to numerous sources among those of Her Following, The Oracle has accurately predicted the vital role of the White Tower in early Jander of 106, when it shattered to the state it's in now, thought it freed Tolkeen from the Coalition occupation forces."
Some computer work has enabled two images of the Tower to be set side-by-side, in the top right-hand corner of the screen, above Walter's shoulder. It is a Before and After comparison of the mystical white structure, and as Walter speaks, it grows larger, overlapping the news anchor and filling the screen. The intact Tower stretches away into the stacks of fluffy clouds against the summer sky; beside it, the broken Tower obviously does not reach as far, its jagged peak visible against an overcast sky. Mighty suggestive imagery at work here - oh, those clever art directors.
Walter's voice returns and the disturbing image disappears, to be replaced by the bland and relatively boring image of the anchor's head and shoulders. "Rumors regarding The Oracle's latest prediction abound, and we took to the streets to hear what citizens are saying..." His image disappears again, replaced by new footage of various local fools mouthing off into the camera: "I think it's all bunk... Mizz Reyhart isn't leaving at all... she's only selling that dive Random Acts to avoid the taxes..." "...in Love!" "...dying of a horrible contagious disease!" "...afraid!" "...lying to herself!" "...she'll be back! She always comes back!"
"In a quest to dispel such rumors, Channel One was lucky enough to get an interview with Miss del Reyhart earlier this evening," the Incredible Image-popping Walter appears just long enough to inform, then disappears in a cut, then reappears on what looks to be Freedom Way outside the Docking Bay at twilight, being chased by the camera man. My, can he run fast...
The glaring flood-lamp of the camera washes out most contrasts of the human face. Before the reporter, stands a fuzzily-squinting Rooke and a rather bored and irritated-looking black man whom many would recognize as Lake O'Bannon. The scene seems to jump ahead into the swing of conversation, with Walter bringing the mic back to his face to continue with his line of questioning: "According to popular belief, the Oracle has never been wrong. Purportedly, your leaving the city will bring about the ruin of Tolkeen. Are you striving to prove these theories wrong, or are you leaving, as some would suggest, to flee a mysterious destructive force that is coming here, to flee in cowardice, as it were?" Walter gets that sort of glassy-eyed stare in his good-eye, that seemingly all maniacs and lunatics get, as he inflates fears and wild theories in his head to broad proportions... The microphone makes a sort of round trip between Rooke's nose and Walter's mouth as he edges closer, "Do you somehow have advance warning of some terrible danger that you are powerless to defeat!?" He swings the microphone back into Rooke's over-exposed face, coming just a hair short of touching her with the fuzzy spit-hood.
Rooke reaches up with her free hand as Walter comes close to bopping her on the nose with that ridiculous shaft of a microphone, and, one would assume, ego-extension, of his.. He seems to enjoy waggling it in her face, doesn't he? She makes a quick grab for the man's wrist, in order to angle the mic farther away from her, and establish an acceptable distance. All this, while she's incredulously absorbing the wild slant the man has taken, her light-dazed, half-blinking expression showing even more stoned confusion than she probably means to convey. "Completely untrue," she snaps, attempting to push Walter back a bit more. Breathing room; no that's not guilt on her face.. just on the verge of hyperventilating. "I'm just leaving, that's-it. There's no mystical mumbo-jumbo to it. I want to go, so I'm going." There's a slight pause, as she finally seems to consider that this might be a live broadcast, or.. even worse.. she'll be edited. "Listen," she adds tersely.. or not. "Tolkeen is a city that stands for -freedom-. Freedom, geddit? What's the name of this -street- we're standing on, hum? You are -all- free to make your -own- decisions. Well, so am I. Tolkeen is safe, she's free, and it's time people faced up to the fact that we were -all- responsible for that. I won't be responsible for it alone. That's ridiculous." She releases the microphone and regards Walter sternly, perhaps daring him to argue with her point of view...
Walter blinks as his arm is grabbed and shoved away, and he doesn't make a move to shove it back. Rooke's harassed tone driving some sense into his marble filled skull. "...willing to tell us," he pauses dramatically for a moment as he brings the mic back to his face... one of those sound editor's nightmares, "Where, exactly you're going? Are you ever coming back to Tolkeen?" He moves the microphone back to the distance set by Rooke's forceful wrist-grabbing, while developing that sort of lost puppy dog look on his face. Yes, it's official; he's definitely subscribed to Rooke Worship like the other half of Tolkeen...
A pensive frown settles on Rooke's face, and she is silent for a few moments, probably a bit longer than is acceptable for fast-pace action news. She seems to regret this whole impromptu interview already, her head lowering, and in that instant, it seems entirely possible that she might grab Walt's mike, follow it over to the camera dude, kick him in the head, then make off with the recording disc. Yes, she looks that displeased to be in this position. "I'm..." Then, she seems to be considering a prevarication. Yes, she looks that sly. "No, I am not willing to tell you where I'm going. I'm not going to tell you when I'm going. And whether, and when, and how I'll be back, is also -none- of your -business-, Mister Riely," she says with just the right amount of tearful pique in her tone, so as to accuse the man with the microphone of personally plotting to ruin her life. Well... she could have just said 'No comment'. "Now, if that's all, then I think I'll be going now." She turns immediately, bumping right into Lake, with quite an amount of velocity behind her for just starting out. "Umph."
With that last embarrassing outburst of Rooke's, Walter reappears back in the studio (it's really amazing, his hair isn't even mussed up) to finish up the segment. "Straight from the horse's mouth..." he stage-mutters in an aside before adding, "While Del Reyhart did not comment on her travel plans, it is rumored she will be traveling out of Tolkeen territory. The Militia have refused to comment on speculation of military action and escort for the former Councilwoman, and also had no comment on any new threats to Tolkeen regarding Del Reyhart's departure."
The screen-inset graphic changes to that of a fuel-station pump-handle and the image of Jhartha Fjekkat takes over, pouting. "Well, they've raised the prices again. Local fuel producers say that despite increased production, fuel consumption has outstripped capacity for the last two winters.."<End of Segment>
Message: 20/39 Saturday, March 24, 2001Necro-Con Broadcast
Woden's Day Decrembe 30th, 109 PA.Interrupting Channel One's usual broadcast of reruns of: "In the Name of Blood", that show with the flawed but competent characters struggling to do their jobs as forensic magicologists in Lazlo, from a few years back -- Channel One Action News plays dramatic theme music and a broad graphic stating: "CAPTURED DREAM RING-LEADERS BROUGHT BEFORE PUBLIC" pans slowly across the screen, for the benefit of those citizens who still move their lips whilst reading.
The graphic passes, screen-wiping to the image of Channel One's star female reporter, standing amongst a horde of other reporters, with a largish indoor crowd as their roiling backdrop. "This is Jhartha Fjekkat, talking to you from the inside of a conference structure within the military sector of Lazlo Avenue..." The display switches to a frontal view of the affair as General Caldwell steps up towards the microphone on a raised stage bearing Militia and city officials, in particular himself and the 'new' Dean of the Academy. Without even the customary tap and the question of whether it is on or not, Caldwell speaks into it. His voice is amplified more than adequately within the tented site. "May I have your attention? Please. Very soon we will be bringing the Necromancers into the area. I would advise you all to remain quiet so that this event may proceed efficiently. The press will then have the opportunity to take pictures and direct questions towards myself on behalf of the Militia and even some towards the prisoners if they wish." He inclines his head and remains standing near the microphone.
Within the small right-hand inset of the view, Jhartha continues after Caldwell's intro; the inset grows quickly to take over the screen. "As our Channel One viewers will remember, a plague of fear swept through the city of Tolkeen in mid-Honorius, as terrible dreams and insomnia attacked the psychics of Tolkeen, driving up crime and accident rates, and leaving psychological scars that linger still today. Before the prisoners are brought in, let us speak with some of the public attending today, to get a feel for what they believe should happen to these Necromancers." The camera follows her, as she begins to move away from her position and closer to the roped off public section of the tent.
"You, sir, what do you think should happen to the accused today?" her warm voice asks, latent talk-show host personality leaking out of every pore. Her target blinks once as the camera focuses in on the thrust microphone and himself, and then answers, "I think they should be burnt, right here and now. Fug the conference! That scum don't deserve to live! Hi S'zanne, look! I'm on television!" Jhartha jerks the mic away from the fool as he waves, and the camera follows her over towards a more sane-looking female a few places off. Just before it heads out of range, the camera catches a Channel Seven reporter interviewing Jhartha's previous target, the man hamming it up in the presence of a captive, but willing audience. The producers and viewers of Channel Seven aren't exactly known for their good taste; who wants to watch "The Extreme Ring" every Saturn Day night, with its patented "Action Vest" and "Destruct-o-vision" Compatible broadcasts? ..Don't answer that.
As Jhartha's second interview nearly finishes, the screen returns to its little inset, the main display focused on the door within the restricted section as it swings open, and a couple of Militia soldiers step through, their suits infantry models with a few notable modifications. On the chest and back, the embossed dragon symbols have been removed and replaced by black inked protective wards. Encircling each bicep are two orange stripes. The figures are each armed with a pistol, neural mace, and shoulder-slung rifle. As soon as they are in position by the door and alert, two figures in prison garb are then allowed to step through, more or less guided along by the two Militiamen following them.
From within the inset, and the mob of civilians, babbling comments ensue. Some people just can't resist breaking into excited whispers or crude remarks when the prisoners finally arrive. A few beings even emit some hissing, boos, catcalls and curses. The idiots directly in front of the camera wave in between their bouts of shouting and booing; frowning and then grinning like fools from one moment to the next. It pans away slowly, to their disappointment. A troupe of four individuals right at the ropes becomes visibly tense after the prisoners come through. One of them, a tall dark-headed man utters a sighing murmur, of which lip-readers could probably catch, "..trapped souls..the foul bitch..!" Anyone who keeps up with their daily news would recognize the quartet as the psychic upstarts who founded Tolkeen's Psychic Alliance this summer.
The first prisoner, a tall slim female with honey-blonde hair, blinks more than a couple of times slowly, her eyes becoming acclimatized to the lighting conditions within the enclosed site. Heck, this whole 'out of prison' deal is still somewhat of a new experience, her ashen features still sluggishly reacting to sunlight, open air, and the presence of so many living bodies. Still, she carries herself erect and lowers her gaze a bit to avoid being constantly blinded by the lights directed towards the front. The other prisoner is similarly garbed and secured, but unlike the blonde, he is a broken individual with hollow, washed-out blue eyes. He stares out dully at the congregation, mouth slack. It is fairly obvious that the cleaned-up, brushed down state he is in, was not of his own initiative. He's thin.. wasting. Hard to believe that he's one of the evil conspirators that almost brought a city to its knees.
The main display pans to Caldwell, who speaks into the microphone once more. "Please remain quiet, fellow citizens. Now, as you can see, they are being brought forward and remain safely restrained. Once they are settled in and comfortable, we may begin with any questions the press may have at this time." He clears his throat and his eyes look towards the existing security one more time. After this quick check, he turns his attention towards the representatives from the various news agencies.
Despite the warnings to remain quiet, a nervous hum of muttered conversation ripples through the crowd. Off camera, two voices rise up from the crowd, shouting: "Why have you crippled our abilities?", a male. The second, female: "We're defenseless against her.." The main display zooms out, away from the tight shot of the platform, and the accused Necromancers now within an iron-lined open booth with their personal guard, to get a wider view of the crowd behind the press section. As photographers sneak up closer to the stage to get dramatic shots of the prisoners inside their iron viewing tank, Walter Riely can be seen, sitting up near the front of the seating section cordoned off for the press. The ripple of concern continues through the gathering, as more than a couple of individuals discover their supernatural abilities suppressed by outer forces.<continued in next post>
Message: 20/40 Saturday, March 24, 2001One of the two figures dressed in Militia exoskeleton power armor tracks its sights from the settled prisoners to the audience. It is oblivious to the cameras that may be pointed its way; it has a job to do. The surveillance of the crowd pauses ever so briefly on something apparently offscreen before continuing. During the return sweep, and the figure nods almost straight towards the camera, though its probably aiming the gesture towards Caldwell. It seems this guard feels ready. Of course, being encased in layers of super-tough poly-laminate alloys does that to a person
Cut to: Caldwell frowns and addresses the small group of individuals at the front of the crowd. "Only questions from the press will be received...But I will address what you have asked as others may be quite concerned. You need not be. We have instituted security measures to keep /everyone/ safe within this area from psychic, arcane and mundane dangers. The Necromancers will pose no threat to you. You need not worry about protecting yourselves as the Militia will provide all the protection you need today, as they have always done for citizens of Tolkeen. Remain calm, when you leave here today, you will no longer be troubled by such temporary security measures."
Inset: Turned to stand facing the congregation, the displayed necromancers are now fully lit and fully viewable by all those present. They don't really look all that menacing, do they? Well, if ambient scattered murmurs of surprise are any indication, no.
Caldwell addresses the press now that the prisoners are settled into position. "And now, the press may ask their questions..." He tilts his head to the side very slightly as he scans their representatives. "Those of you from the press that have questions, raise your hands and we'll try to give everyone a chance." He awaits those eager news hounds to start leaping up with their queries.
The view screen is momentarily awash in confusing motion as many front-line reporters simply ignore Caldwell's request, and instead jump up, wave their arms or various arm-like appendages, and shout out such confusing mish-mashes of questions as: "...the prisoner's names!? .... so strict with these prisoners?! ...why...!? ...who...? ...been well treated?" The smarter reps, though still eager to get their questions answered, raise their hands but remain seated lest they be ejected from the proceeding by overzealous crowd control officers. Walter sits amongst the more patient individuals of the press, hand raised. After all, he's up near the front where all the action is, and so what's the point of worrying about being first to get his question answered?
By some magic merging of the audio-feed, a voice belonging to one of the Psi-Alliance founders, in a conversational tone, offers some choice comments on the subject of the necromancers, all exceedingly blistering and unworthy of print. He ends with a determinedly and strangely congenial, "...Drop the null fields and I'll burn the spirits free..." A jump cut by one of Channel One's extra cameras manages to pan the crowds a little too late to capture the exact speaker, but some visual editor must have decided to include this shot to pass the time whilst the reporters clamor. Amongst the sea of civilian faces, a few might be recognized: there's Alejandra winding her way around people on her way to the front; there's Lake standing all quiet in his own private space; there's that nice lady Rayne, tugging on her hair as always; there's Ailic at the back; and ain't that tall chalky Psi-Stalker somewhat familiar, too?
The display cuts back to Caldwell as he prepares to call upon one of the reporters, knitting his brows together in annoyance at the frenzy of questions, trying to pick out someone that looks sane enough to answer. He finally points. "Mister Riely I believe...Does Channel One have a question that they would like to ask?" From the look on his face, he can feel a migraine lurking in one of the corners of his mind already..
The next cut is a side angle of Walter, as he lowers his hand and stands, beginning his question in a stage-bellow that works well for such noisy conferences, "Ahem, thank you, General. If I remember correctly, when these criminals were captured, reports indicated that there were three individuals returned to Tolkeen for imprisonment. Where is the third prisoner, and what are the prisoner's names?" He sits down like every good reporter should, and lets the General prepare an answer to the question.
Cut to: Caldwell nods slowly, a bit more at ease now that things are progressing in a more organized fashion. "The third Necromancer is now deceased." He gives a slight pause to let that sink in. "Rather than wait for Tolkeen to judge him, he decided to act violently and rashly. He got into a fierce confrontation with his guards after a session of questioning and was killed. The remaining Necromancers...the woman goes by the name Calliope and the man's name is Bazil." Caldwell then looks for additional questions.
Those media-beings still standing need a good stern talking to by their mothers, refusing to sit down, continuing to shout out their questions, even over Walter's bellowing, dropping their pens, pads, and recording devices; bending down to pick them up, and coming back up again in something that looks ridiculously like one of those "Drinking Ostrich" dances. St'wert Stwertin of Channel Seven, if that is his real name, raises his hand from his seat next to Riely, and waits for his name to be called. If he's lucky, his question will be better than those of half the folks here. What's their favorite color, indeed...
Caldwell eyes the press as if they were one giant writhing entity. He gestures again. "Channel Seven, I believe..." He squints for a moment and then continues to speak. "What is your question?"
St'wert apparently doesn't get the same instant recognition as Riely, something that must no-doubts be remedied in the future. Be prepared for a flurry of "Channel Seven, Live at Five" posters popping up in all the wrong places of the city. St'wert begins, "Yes, St'wert Stwertin, Channel Seven, Live at Five News, Exactly what were the suspects doing to cause such harm to Tolkeen's psychic citizens?" The male reseats himself and elbows Walter rather rudely in the process.
The screen inset appears again, showing the prisoner Calliope glowering fixedly at the lower legs of those press closest to the rope barriers, her slim shoulders held rigidly in reaction to the armored touch of her guards at her arms. Her trapped-animal ferocity fades by increments as it becomes clear that the supernaturally gifted individuals of the gathering cannot, in fact, take their vengeance this day. Slowly, she lifts her uncommon gaze in order to look almost into the camera, her focus somewhere offscreen. Her delicate lips edge a tight, contemptuous grin. Then she dares look directly at the psychics in the front row, and all her hatred of them seethes in her striking eyes, though she keeps that defiant, amused smile throughout. At the same time, Bazil the other prisoner is barely caught in the small picture frame, eyes rolling upwards in a not-all-there way. His mouth yawns open for a moment, then one of the guards gives him a slight shake back to the here and now; he lets out a low groan before closing his mouth.<continued in next post>
Message: 20/41 Sunday, March 25, 2001Amid the babble of press voices, a woman shouts, perhaps in retaliation to Calliope's rude gaze, "Christ D-Bee, why have you let her live! She must be destroyed, don't you /see/ that, you fools! She serves Nxla!" Her ragged voice rips the air, the last name an incoherent grating noise. A male voice responds in a rather soothing tone: "Quiet, Con.. calm down." Unfortunately, the way the audio of this broadcast seems to be edited, it is nearly impossible to figure out who said what.
Caldwell prepares to address Stwertin's question, the offscreen shout causing the corner of his mouth to quirk for a moment. "I'll avoid getting into technical or specific arcane details about how they managed to plague Tolkeen's psychic people with the persistent nightmare...Suffice to say, these Necromancers, Harvesters as they are also known, have always had an intense hatred for Tolkeen and its inhabitants. They had managed to acquire a form of ritualistic knowledge and put it to use against us. Through the use of a sacrificial shrine, and their patron entity, they used the White Tower as a beacon to reach all psychics within it's sights. When Tolkeen's valiant forces descended upon them and their unholy place of worship, their threat to Tolkeen was ended swiftly and peace was restored to our fair city. And now, they are in our custody to be judged for their heinous crimes."
The small image of the prisoner's reactions to any questions being asked gets replaced temporarily by Jhartha Fjekkat reiterating on what has just been said for the viewers at home, even though this whole event is delayed, it is still 'Live'. "...The three suspects were captured in Samhain by the brave efforts of the Tolkeen Militia, after allegedly inflicting a horrible dream plague upon the entire psychic population... After the death of one of the prisoners during interrogation, the rest have been brought forth before the public today." She just had to mention how /brave/ the Militia was in subduing such a danger to the city - it's always good to make the Militia happy, especially when one is surrounded by their presence. Strange how earlier, Walter never said /suspects/. Perhaps he is among those of Tolkeen who feel: "Innocent Until Proven Guilty" is an outdated cause. "Their return to the city undoubtedly brought fears of terrible danger by Tolkeen's citizens, mixed with the joy of freedom from the horrible plague..." Yes, melodrama. Take that, Stwertin and Channel Seven!
Caldwell answers question: "The reason for keeping them for so long before letting justice reward them for their deeds, is due to their use to Tolkeen alive. Chapters of these wicked beings still exist out there, within and beyond our borders. Therefore, we have rigorously questioned them to find out what they know and what plans they may have made for Tolkeen. We have learned a great deal." He clears his throat before continuing. "There is no need for a trial for such low criminals as these. They are so obviously guilty of their crimes against Tolkeen, caught in the act and already bearing many violent acts against the city, a trial would merely serve as a ridiculous spectacle. There will be no trial for them. They are fated to die by our hands for the pain and death they have visited upon our friends, family and neighbors." He is about to go on, when a commotion draws the camera away in a hectic, blurred pan..
The wider angle shot of the whole affair catches Rayne shouting and pointing to the prisoners while pushing her way forward. "Those are not the ones you seek! The Beast. He is the one!" Most of the rest of her tirade is lost as people shuffle around to stare at the strange woman, or else chatter amongst themselves, but a few bits and pieces rise above the noise, "Evil...coming soon....use us all..." Those who do know of rumors of Rayne's fragile mental health undoubtedly shake their heads sadly. What a waste of young life.
Meanwhile, back at the inset: Calliope's look of taunting confidence fades a little, but by the time Caldwell has finished with his explanation of their alleged activities and more questions have been asked, she's back to her previous cool glower. Her head shakes from side to side, minutely. Unable to resist a show of denial, even if it does fall on blind eyes... but wait. At Rayne's shouting above the noise of the crowd, she blanches further, and strains a bit against the hold of her guards. "..my..god.." she mouths as cameras record the whole affair for posterity.
Cut back to: Restraining his annoyance, Caldwell continues where he left off after a moment. "Their fate is sealed, which I know many of you long for, particularly our psychic community who they have so grievously harmed in the past. Tolkeen will provide you with satisfaction through their deaths." Finishing his answer, Caldwell gestures with an inclination of his head to someone offscreen, then directs a quick nod out into the crowd. The meaning is obvious. He mutters, his mouth away from the microphone as he addresses one of his personal guards to alert the proper sentries. Lipreaders' Alert: 'Please do something about that poor woman. She seems ill.'
A flicker of motion in the crowd sets the scene, drawing the attention away from Caldwell and any reactions his staff might have to the request. That powered exoskeleton moves from its post, shouldering the rifle. The large suit of armor should be able to make its own path. It seems to be heading towards the rather vocal Rayne. Heavy thuds mark each inevitable step as it closes towards its target.
While the throng of onlookers certainly is eager to stare at the raving woman, no one seems eager to help her out in any way. It seems the crowd sees what's coming, even if Rayne doesn't. People step aside, moving as far away from the maniacal lady as can be managed as the large armored figure approaches her. She hollers, "NOOO! They are NOT the ones! This is UNJUST!" Finally she sees the metal figure coming closer. "NO!" she yells once more, no doubt this time in protest to her own inevitable fate.
The armored figure stops just shy of Rayne, "I'm sorry, ma'am, but I'm afraid I need to escort you out." Maybe Rayne will recognize the voice coming out of the speaker, which is at one of its more muted levels. It does not move to touch Rayne, just standing there, waiting to see if she will come along peacefully.
Then, even this dramatic confrontation is relegated to another inset, this one in the bottom left hand corner of the screen. If Channel One isn't careful, it might be in danger of recreating a present day version of The Brady Bunch title screen.
One of the lesser-known reporters off in the back of the media-squad gets called on for once, although the beginning of her question gets ignored as some of the cameras swing towards the happenings back in the spectator area. "Doesn't denying them a trial open up dangerous legal precedent? Does not..." She finally turns towards the ensuing spectacle and watches as the armored guard looms over Rayne.<continued in next post>
Message: 20/42 Sunday, March 25, 2001Caldwell, a trifle miffed at Rayne, seems to take it all in stride. Poor woman. It just goes to show you can't catch all the loons at the door. He places his hand over the microphone as he exchanges a look with the Dean. He gives a slight nod and then turns his attention back to the raving woman. He takes his hand off the mic to answer the reporter's question, even though it is cut off. One must tie up loose ends and leave nothing to question. "Due to the enormous amount of evidence against these Necromancers, a trial is unnecessary by law..."
Who's still watching the necromancers' inset, anyway? Calliope gazes intently off screen, her face shining with renewed savagery and triumph. She then directs that glance across to the officials platform.. her evident excitement, however restrained, seems to break through the cocoon of dazed retreat in her fellow prisoner's catatonic state. Bazil blinks sleepy and bewildered, staring off into the crowd as if he could see through them to the howling Rayne. Suddenly, he raises his shackled wrists aloft, -dragging- his surprised guards with him, in a show of incredible strength. Inhuman strength. Gaunt face stretching and cracking dryly around the edges, he screams, "Sadda Mericadeus-..!" He gets that far, before the sigils on his wrist irons flare into life, bright blue. A snap is heard very clearly, then sizzling, and the man grunts in pain, trying to go on, his fingers curving into brittle claws.
That inset has suddenly become the main display in a visual spazz-out..stupid editor.. The High General of the Militia forces, bunted unceremoniously into the right-hand corner, turns to look off his screen as if at the zombie-like Harvester who suffers for his impromptu actions in the main display. (*cough*-Brady Bunch-*hack*) Caldwell makes an angry and vicious gesture, undoubtedly towards Bazil's handlers.
Jhartha Fjekkat voice-overs the current selection of scenes with, "...Can we get a close up of what just happened? Thank you.." She starts up again from her aside, "Taking the opportunity brought upon by a distraught spectator, the surviving accused Necromancer has attempted to cast something upon the crowd, perhaps in an attempt to escape his bindings... The magical restraints undoubtedly preventing his escape." She pauses as the live feed is looped with an enhanced, instant replay of the agonizing attempt, while the current happenings have been reduced to a quarter of their size in yet another micro-window on the top left-hand corner of the screen. Should anything else interesting again, Channel One will be sore pressed to report it with its screen display so cluttered.
Only those close to the scene and Channel One viewers through the wonders of audio technology, can probably hear what's going on as Rayne utters angrily to the suit of armor, "May the Goddess damn you, Chax!" Yep, she recognized the voice. "Let me pass. I have to stop this madness before an even greater crime is committed," she demands. Desperate, she threatens, "I'll never speak to you again if you don't let me stop this madness!"
Someone in Editing must have finally wrested the controls away from the multi-tasking maniac, because all of the insets disappear, with the winner of the Attention Melee being Calliope and her ward-zapped compatriot. After gazing with some shock herself at her comrade's recovery, she says imperiously, "Release us," her voice like a struck bell. "The woman speaks truth.. you're -damned-, all of you."
One of Bazil's guards tries to force the writhing necromancer to his knees while the other loosens his neural mace. Their actions draw a surge of rage from Calliope. "Don't touch him, filth!" She starts to pull mightily against her own restraints, then immediately thinks better of it. Her guards jerk her back, trying to force her down to her knees while they look to their superior for further instruction. Bazil is unceremoniously cracked in the back of the head with the mace. A dull thunk immediately followed by an electrical discharge occurs. The squawk of pain from Bazil is nearly inaudible due to the current din in the amphitheater. Short and quick flashes of blue electricity spark and turn Bazil into a jittering mass of quivering muscles. He is much more easily forced to his knees at this point. The guards keep him that way with some firm pressure on his shoulders, mace is at the ready for another drumming if he starts acting funny again.
Cut to: Caldwell, offering a withering glare to Calliope at her audacious demands. Not that he really needs to answer, but he nevertheless shakes his head very slowly.
The camera whizzes blurrily back to the audience, where the Militia power armor follows Rayne still towards the main entrance, whatever emotions the wearer may be feeling concealed by the metal skin he's wearing. Rather than fight further, Rayne has lowered her head in defeat and is meekly allowing herself to be escorted towards the exit. In the foreground, the unmistakeable figure of Alejandra (who could miss those tattoos?) is standing amongst the Psychic Alliance co-founders, one of them sporting a trickling nosebleed. The dark-haired group member is endeavoring to spirit her off into the crowd. Alejandra's attention is on the subdued Harvesters, quite intently so.<continued in next post>
Message: 20/43 Sunday, March 25, 2001Suddenly, the camera zooms past them and focuses on Rayne again. Her docile surrender was only an act, t'would seem, as she dodges around the power armor, running back towards the front. "FREE THE INNOCENT," she shouts, "FREE THE INNOCENT AND SLAY THE BEAST!" But the Militia pilot puts those super-fast servos to work, and in a flash the armored hand of the law reaches out and grabs Rayne's shoulder, spinning her back around. He does not use undue force, just enough to get the job done. This time, the hand stays on her shoulder, and no words are spoken as he frog marches the woman the rest of the way out.
As the camera angle pulls back out for a sweeping shot of the gathering, in the foreground Alejandra breaks her silence. Gaze still on the woman prisoner, she calls out curiously, "Calliope. Where's this beast?" Academic interest prompts the question directed at the condemned, her gaze steady. There's no sign of hatred or anger - she might not give a damn about Calliope or Bazil at all.
By that point, the panning viewscreen has left her for Caldwell, who speaks once more. Behind him, the Dean has already vacated his seat, toddling off to the special back door to the site. The General says, "I'm afraid that this will conclude the question and answer period. If you'll all please exit the premises in an orderly fashion now...Thank you for attending. The Militia will keep you updated of course. Thank you. Please take care on the way to your homes." He moves away from the small podium and is immediately flanked by his two elite guards in their blood red armor.
The camera over-reaches his path on purpose, in order to settle on the necromancers, as their personal guards drag them bodily towards the back entrance. Still, Calliope manages to call out once more, perhaps in answer to Alejandra's query. "He rules over you!" Her voice is clear, ringing, and she cuts an abrupt, telling glance towards Dean Morrissey, who's leaving ahead of them, oblivious. She turns her head to look back towards the officials' platform as well, but any other gestures are lost as she and Bazil disappear beyond the exit.
Clearly, the conference is over for all intents and purposes. A switch in camera angles once more, catches the Militia guards and sentries helping to herd those still present towards the entrance, including the press who no doubt still have equipment set up.
Jhartha Fjekkat takes this opportunity to sign off, lest an overzealous militia officer interrupt her broadcast. "From the Militia Airbase, and the site of the long-awaited public viewing of the captured suspects in the Dream Plague, this is Jhartha Fjekkat for Channel One News.. now stay tuned for an after-conference discussion with Walter Riely, and notable scholars and Tolkeen officials as they discuss the impact of today's proceedings. We now return you to your regularly scheduled program."
Jhartha and the entire three-ring circus disappears, to be replaced by the rolling credits of "In the Name of Blood". Too bad they couldn't have waited until after the cliffhanger was resolved...
Message: 20/44 Sunday, April 1, 2001Delphi Expose'
DATE: Freya Day, Jander 8th, 110 PAThis week's Channel One Special News Segment finds Walter welcoming two panel guests, the lights coming up on them, sitting in the well-padded blue leather armchairs directly to the left of Walter's polished black lacquer desk. The stage set-up is very 'Late Night With'-ish, featuring a backdrop of the Tolkeen evening skyline (yup, hard to miss the Tower). The channel guide indicated that the segment would feature a startling discovery and religious debate, and sure enough, at least one of the guests looks like he'd just been dragged out of a church-y establishment.
He's a man under five feet in height, but very thick in mass. At least it seems that way, with the wide, billowy fit of his white robe and long blue vest. There's no tell-tale round belly, though.. he seems to be built like a stone wall, wide of shoulder and broad boned. He's a bit past his middle-age, it seems, with a balding head of greying hair, wrinkled, leathery brown skin, and pale eyes made lighter by a layer of cataracts. His leather-tough face is shaven, and rather muscular. Square. In his hand is an exquisitely sculpted stave, strange, smooth green wood that's been oiled and polished heavily until it gleams off light rays as it moves.
The other guest is a lanky, shrew-faced man in a street suit of black and green, and well-polished leather shoes. His thick brown curly hair is heavily gelled to keep it from puffing out in all directions. Small dark eyes set too close together complete this unfortunate genetic inheritor, but at least his outer clothing choices pass muster. Like his 'contemporary', he sits inquisitively with his gaze directed mostly at Walter.
Mister Riely's attention is towards the viewers, however. "We're here with Brother Linton, a Follower of the Oracle of Delphi, and High Priest for that religion in the Northwest sector of the city... and James Rae, also called The Voice, from his work on the Voice of Freedom radio station, and a leading religion critic for the past five years. I think this week's topic will prove to be especially interesting." Walter conducts himself professionally as always, but tonight there is an uncharacteristic nervousness hinted in his voice, perhaps the topic comes close to infringing upon his religious sensibilities? He turns towards his guests, leaning his elbows against the edge of the desk and threading his fingers. "Now, for the benefit of our viewing audience who may not be familiar with each of your positions on the spiritual scene, could you gentlemen please give us an overview of your takes on the role of religion in Tolkeen.." Walter hesitates for a moment, as if struggling to choose which speaker should begin, "...starting with.. Brother Linton."
The elderly priest ignores (or fails to notice) the camera cut to a 'head and shoulders' close-up of him, and keeps his gaze on the off-screen Walter as he nods and begins speaking. "Quite simply, Delphi is more than a religion, Mister Riely." His voice is deep, resonant, powerful, though this may not be readily evident through the various vidscreens and speakers in homes and on streets all over Tolkeen. "It is a reality.. a destiny. Unlike the D-Bee Christianity, which is based purely on some old scripture and a group of deities who may very well be dead, Apollo's patronage is proven daily in the continuing existence of this very city. It embraces all of Tolkeen city-state, and whether they acknowledge it or not, almost everyone is connected to Delphi-.."
His calm words seem to have agitated Jimmy Rae, who shifts restlessly in his seat until the last, whereupon he bursts out with, "Oh come -on-! People cannot follow a religion against their -will-.. or else what you're basically saying is that -Apollo- is a -tyrant-!" He must use some voice modulating technology during his broadcasts on the VoF, because he sounds disappointingly nasal on television. It doesn't help that viewers can now match up his unlikely face with The Voice, a snappy, bold, 'people's hero' sort of radio personality. But isn't that always the way? "Ever since the Coalition Occupation, I have been -wary- of the direction this so-called religion has taken. Where there was once faith in the intangible and respect for the mystical, now we basically have -sad- mortal idols and -mule-headed- fanatics like yourself," he retorts. He seems to really like the word 'basically'..
Brother Linton is unruffled. "If you are speaking of the Word handed down from Apollo himself, identifying the Chosen One and the Defender of Tolkeen.. let me remind you that the prophecy was, in fact, fulfilled, and Tolkeen was saved-.."
Rae interrupts yet again, with a very biting, "Don't even start with the prophecy, Linton! Does Apollo -really- want to take responsibility for even half of it? What have you got, a broken Tower, one megalomaniac gunslinger who -basically- shot up D-Bees for a living before he got to Tolkeen, -disgraced- himself on the Council, and now basically -terrorizes- the west side as some sort of unauthorized peacekeeper... and one -girl- who couldn't even accept or handle the distinction. In fact, didn't she just basically give The Oracle -the finger- recently before skipping town? Hah!"
The now-annoyed Brother Linton is about to give a glowering reply, when Walter intercedes, voice raised just slightly to get their attention. The camera cuts back to him. "All right, thank you, gentlemen." Walter leans back in his chair flippantly before resettling himself in a more respectful position for the two guests. "Your last comments serve rather well to segue into the next stage in our discussion. I'm going to show you and our Channel One viewers a recently recorded disclosure from a citizen and friend of Mizz Del Reyhart.. never before released and quite shocking.." He taps his fingers on the black lacquer desk, "It will certainly raise some important questions about the Oracle of Delphi religion... Right after this break!"
With that irritating cliff-hanger, the camera shot trucks out, revealing Walter's guests, both of them looking surprised and expectant, and the commercials start.<continued in next post>
Message: 20/45 Sunday, April 1, 2001"Welcome back to this special edition of Channel One News," Walter says rather unnecessarily. Is it really possible that viewers would mistake the news set and guests for that happy family of five playing that new board game 'Stump The Wizzes' in the last commercial? The lighting comes up on the guests again, now staring at Walter impatiently (seems they had to wait as well). "Now, it's common knowledge, at least to our Channel One viewing audience, that Mizz Rooke Del Reyhart has departed Tolkeen indefinitely..." He pauses dramatically for half a second, perhaps to annoy his guests even further. Come on, Walter, enough rehashing. He can afford to look calm and collected, being on the inside of things and behind his big black lacquered Fortress of Solitude.
Leaning on that desk now, Walter addresses the camera. "The eyewitness testimony you are about to see has been scanned by psychic empaths, and tested by polygraph. This person wishes to remain anonymous for security reasons.. the need for which may become apparent to our viewers as Channel One News airs this exclusive footage... now."
The cityscape backdrop is really a giant holoscreen, and the silhouetted horizon now disappears to reveal a soft white filter, and a large, vaguely human,cast shadow. It moves and gestures frequently enough to prove that it is a living being, and as the camera view cuts fully to the holoscreen, the surrounding audio speakers kick in. The speech is rather muted, and sounds pretty much like apoplectic gibberish at first... and audiences may start to feel a little cheated in this affair... but soon enough, the technique becomes clear. The original speaker's figure and voice are masked and muffled according to the security measures requested. Moments later, a second audio track is overlaid, as a clear, distinguished male voice with a classical, impeccable Euro accent speaks; the translator..."I received a message from Rooke. She had been avoiding those damned fanatics, the Delphi people who had been bothering her ever since she said she wanted to leave this city. We were to meet across from Random Acts.
"Sure enough, I was one of the first to show up, as I am always prompt. There weren't many people around that night. I won't mention the other people who came, because...I fear the damned Followers of Delphi might harm them. They might look kind and generous, but what happened that night has changed my mind. I'll just say that we all got together on that soccer field and prepared to say our goodbyes...and that's the truth.
"There she was, dressed like she was ready to depart the city. Hiking boots, a sweater and coat, travel bag and her knives. She...was ready. She obviously didn't want to be noticed while she was sneaking around the damned city.
"Where was I? Right, so we were all together and Rooke started to say her goodbyes. She was very grateful that we showed. She was always a little...odd, and said the strangest things, to be truthful. As if we might not have shown up." The actor gives a false, dry laugh, only a second after the huge fuzzy silhouette jostles with its own mirth and corresponding mottled underscore. One may notice unusual pauses in the speech, where there are none in the original garble; apparently, even with the considerable skills of the paid voice actor, even he must take a moment or two to translate certain words or phrases into acceptable 'English'.
"Anyway, she wasn't making long speeches that night. She just started hugging us all and saying sweet...nice...things, and giving advice to us...Nothing long...but I got the best hug, of course. I have to admit, I was probably the most important person in her life. We were all touched, and she was, too.
"It was starting to get muggy during this...this time. It didn't seem odd at the time, of course, but now, I can tell it was the beginning of it. Rooke should have just sent us goodbye notes. It was late at night, yes, but there weren't any damned people on the streets, really. No cars either, to be truthful. The streets were deserted. That's the truth. That's when the mist started to form, like magic. It was awfully...awfully quiet as well. Too damned quiet for the area we were in.
"I noticed all of it first, of course, being the perceptive person that I am. After that, everyone else noticed, too. It seemed like only mist at first, of course, so we weren't too worried. I knew better, of course, and of course, then everyone else realized something really was wrong, too, and that's the truth...We became nervous. Rooke decided to get the heck out of Tolkeen right then and there. Our goodbyes were done and it was time to...leave. So she tried to go, running through the fog that was coming in.
"So there we were, Rooke had just left into the mist...the mist was much too white and thick...to be natural. And those...streams...streams of something moving really, really slowly, inside. Something horrible was coming.
"And then, there was absolutely no damned sound in the city...We were very nervous. And then, a very odd wave of nothing rushed out like...it rushed out. It...whipped things outwards, to be truthful, and...our damned clothes were...flapping...and...the mist was pulling back. Then Rooke yelled out at us, telling us that this thing was after her, and we should take cover. She always was a special girl that way.
"The...strange white stuff was...uh...churning...like a whirlpool or vortex of mist. It had completely surrounded us! It was like we were in the eye of a storm. I could not see anything through...through it. We were caught by it...Everyone was...panicking, but I...bravely held my ground, and that's the truth." The voice-over actor remains relatively calm, but the muffled, shadowy speaker seems to be becoming increasingly agitated. The soft silhouette tilts, flexes, and even waves its arms a bit as it gets into the retelling.<continued in next post>
Message: 20/46 Sunday, April 1, 2001The staggered monologue continues: "Then, the......force, the pull...stopped, and we could stand properly...Then some odd...odd hallucinations began. The ground looked strange, and the sky looked strange...yes, it was strange. And lo and behold, Rooke was back with us. It seemed that she couldn't get away in time, to be truthful. She only managed to get a few feet away, I suppose. She was...angered...that she was also trapped by the ghostly streams.
"The spectral things, they had holes for mouths, it's the truth. They were singing or shouting something as they swirled about. We were being forced back together, back to back as they closed in, and that's the truth. Odd, frightful things, with white faces, trailing...and babbling things I couldn't understand.
"And then, they started speaking to me, and the other people there, I think...The voice was in my head. It sounded like a grandfather...a kind sort of fellow. He said, 'You are standing in the cradle of Delphi and you are a...loving..no..beloved...servant. Do you see the...large...web that holds you? Do you see the lines that are binding you to the others who serve?'
"I didn't know what it was talking about, but I looked down, and my hands had silver threads coming out of them, and that's the truth. They were strung out. Some were connected to the others and some went out into the mist. That was quite strange. So I said to myself, I was not going to deal with any of this...strange...thing...and I concentrated, and those lines went away. I don't serve any...any man or woman. I said as much because I didn't want this...event...continuing.
"Then the voice spoke again, since I refused...to believe it. The voice said, 'Beloved child of the cradle, you are stubborn but you still serve Delphi. You have the power to stop a horrible tragedy. She...-meaning Rooke-...who was chosen has been deceived, by herself. She must not break the lines. Some...one...entered the lines and helped her think about leaving Tolkeen. She has no right to think about herself. There is no freedom without imprisonment. She was chosen for prison. Tolkeen is too large for chaos to decide its fate. It is more than a city. Servants cannot break the lines that even...gods cannot. There is no room for ultimate freedom. You must serve Delphi...beloved child of the cradle. Speak to your friend, who you love, and stop a tragedy...'
"I refused to do such a thing. I am not the kind of person who forces people into doing things, to be truthful. The other ones said the same thing...or thereabouts. The voice was a...bully...trying to get us to make her decide to stay in Tolkeen. I know a threat when I hear one, but I wasn't going to do such a thing to a friend.
"And Rooke listened to my response and saw how strong a friend I was. Of course, the others helped too with their own reasons, but mine was the strongest and she appreciated that...very much. And...uh...the voice got...very terrible sounding, after that. It was...angry, and no...gentleman anymore. It howled and then ghosts were swirling and...things were howling. They started flying through the air like damned bats and...mad birds. They damned well swept through our damned bodies then! And when they touched me, I felt a freezing sensation in my damned spine. It was...bone-chilling.
"We all started telling them to...leave us...all...alone, but they kept swooping and diving and flying about, very angrily. They started bellowing and howling, sounding very frightening. 'Where were you when the Tower was built? Its bright light sheltering the generations of servants when they stood in the cradle? Who are you to decide the fate of the servants of Apollo...ah...Lycieus? She was chosen and cannot decide the fate of Delphi!'
"Goodness. We were all ready to leap out of our skins, sure that we would...be killed, next. But they stopped bothering us and swooped up above Rooke... and they hovered there. And that's the truth.
"And Rooke...stood all proud and strong. She was the strongest lady I have ever known. She lifted her chin and sneered at them, and she told them, and I'll never forget this, she said... 'Bite me. All of you.'.." The voice-over actor laughs again, this time more genuinely, and more than a little affected by the tale, too. "She was damned good. And I'll wager that that angered Apollo or the ghosts or whatever they were that were trying to kill us.
"Then the air suddenly thickened. I was right. Those things went mad, I think. We were all held in place. There was nothing we could do to help. We couldn't even move, damn it all. And that's when Rooke got engulfed. Her body was twisting and hard to see. But she was arching and stretching and turning...white. Then she was gone. We couldn't do anything but watch. Those damned Delphi...people...it was all their doing. Maybe they weren't wearing robes or looking...human, but the ghosts and that voice was saying it was Delphi...Damn them.
"Then there was a spark of pain, deep down inside, and the whole spectral lot of things compressed and then disappeared, like Rooke.
"We were suddenly...returned to where we met up earlier that evening. We all fell to the damned ground in a...heap. I got plenty of bruises that night. All the sounds of the city were back, rushing back, like we were back in...reality. I couldn't believe Rooke was killed off like that, and by the damned people who called her the Chosen One. Do you know there is a statue of her up at the damned Shrine of the Oracle? It's the truth. A nice white damned statue. It only mysteriously appeared there that /same damned night/ that she was rubbed out by those damned ghosts. Rooke was murdered by the Followers of The Oracle. You check your damned polygraphs and the psychic. He knows that I'm telling the truth!"<continued in next post>
Message: 20/47 Sunday, April 1, 2001Silence follows the end of the disclosure, even as the holoscreen fades to black, and then is replaced by the usual cityline view. The camera waits in its now wide-angle view of the trio on the set. Brother Linton looks displeased and long-suffering in his overall serenity; he closes his eyes, dredging up some inner strength perhaps. James Rae's own eyes have all but bugged out, and his mouth is unattractively slack. Walter waits a moment, then deftly signals the cameras by turning away from his guests and facing the figurative viewing audience. "What you've just seen and heard was the scanned and secured testimony of a person claiming to have been with Rooke Del Reyhart, whom the Oracle of Delphi has named as the Chosen One; during what were allegedly her final moments of life," he says quietly, leaning forward upon the solidity and relative strength of his desk. His voice assumes its normal tone, after dropping the almost stage whisper it had acquired mere moments before. "In the time we have left on the program, we'll hear from our two guests on the panel, Brother Li-.." Walter's voice hesitates as one of the guests rudely marches all over his itinerary.
"Holy Christ D-Bee, was that a joke?" The screen abandons Walter for the tighter shot of Rae, who still hasn't quite composed himself enough to speak in a coherent, informed fashion. "It wasn't, was it?" he says softly, gazing off-screen at Walter, then quick as a lashing whip, turns in his seat to stare at Brother Linton, also off-screen. The camera angle widens to rectify that. "You and your damned -cult- have gone -too- far, Linton! Even I never suspected you'd be capable of cold-blooded -murder-!" His voice breaks and squeaks in his excitement and outrage.
Brother Linton had opened his eyes again at the label 'cult', and he stiffens in his seat, as much as his squat, stoney frame can further allow. His cataract-glazed eyes lend a sort of spooky sight to him as he growls, "That is nonsense, and I warn you not to lay such a wild accusation on the Servants of Apollo Lycei-.."
"Or I'm -next-, is that it? You're basically gonna get your -spooks- after me?" Jimmy Rae interrupts derisively. Not only does he like the word 'basically', but he seems to just adore breaking in on Linton's sentences. "Oh, this is what I've been saying all along, the -so-called- religion of The Oracle has gone -horribly- awry since-.." He gasps and shies away from the priest's seat when the older man draws himself up to his full 4'10" height.
"Gentlemen... please," Walter starts, raising his hands, as the camera shot goes to a wide view, perhaps because the camera crew is retreating to a safe distance. "Let me just say that the last remarks from our witness were statements of opinion rather than actual fact... can we all just... sit..."
Halfway through Walter's attempted peace-keeping, Brother Linton has started in on his own angered speech, soon drowning the anchorman out in sheer sound vibrations. His projected voice is very strong, seeming to have taken possession of the very air. "There has been no murder in the eyes of Delphi. The man is mistaken or has been deceived. And YOU," he looks at the lanky Rae trying to scramble up out of his seat, -towering- over Rae despite their unlikely height differences, "will cease your mockery of Delphi, as you yourself serve-"
James Rae bounces up like a thin spring, howling, "I am -not- a Servant!" and the venerable priest of Apollo raises his gleaming green staff, his robes beginning to billow despite the controlled atmospheric conditions of the studio.
"Uhm, we'll be back..." Walter tells the no-doubt captive viewing audience, casting a wary eye upon the growing fracas, before ducking down behind his Fortress of Solitude. Somehow the word '..Hopefully' would be appropriate if tacked onto the end of Walt's statement.
The viewscreen gives a slight wobble, before cutting to a commercial featuring a happy but indecisive homemaker trying to decide which tin cannister of preserved peaches to send with her child to his Primary Learning school. Funny, but when the long-ish run of advertisements has ended, the interview studio has been cleared of both panel guests, and only Walter, looking slightly windblown, is there to wrap up in the final minutes of the program.
He glances off-screen for a moment, undoubtedly to wherever the two guests had been dragged off, during the commercial break. Walter has just enough time left to announce, "That about covers it for this edition of Channel One News, be sure to tune in next week when I talk with Mizz Melissa Lynn, Owner and CEO of Lynn-Tech Industries." With that brief closing statement, Walter disappears to be replaced by rolling credits, and finally another set of commercials to even out the news hour.
Message: 20/48 Wednesday, May 30, 2001Miniseries Ad
The following ad debuts the week of Marron 15th, and runs approximately five times a day:Fading in quickly from a darkened screen, the Tolkeen city skyline, with the Tower intact, is clearly silhouetted against a sweet violet-hued sunrise. In the sky, the black shapes of Militia airships cruise slowly on the sea of light. The masterful voice of the announcer is heard about three seconds in:
"Five years ago, our beloved city was caught in the grip of open war."
To the creeping, rising tones of a whole section of brass and violins, a dark red filter with a Coalition skull motif dissolves in like a blood stain, superimposed over the view of the city. With every second, the filter becomes heavier, more opaque, and begins to drown out the Tolkeen skyline. Abruptly however, before all is lost, the dim outline of the Tower flares and begins to burn bright white, sending the red filter fleeing outwards, like so much burning plastic.
"Tolkeen fought back, and was victorious."
The whiteness then fills the screen completely, and after a few melodramatic seconds, begins to mellow out into a blue sky once more... panning left until the proud jagged spire of the sun-splashed White Tower can be seen, low-angle (upshot).
"Many epic events have been shrouded in mystery... but this Spring, one of them will be revealed..."
Then, against the mottled white surface of the tower, a large shadow passes by, moving quickly. It is the shadow of a rather unique, and celebrated airship, in fact.
Pause.
A sudden montage of video footage bursts on screen, flashing noteworthy and memorable scenes at a rate of one every two seconds, to a rousing choral soundtrack: the Skyrunner racing across the clear sky with the camera view following from what looks like horizon to horizon.. the speed trial of fifteen years past, where the airship was declared swiftest in the fleet; the Skyrunner running ground anchor lines down, above a roiling, noisome crowd... the epic rescue of the innocents from ransacked Village X, with follow-up clips of streams of refugees emerging from its opened cargo hold onto hover-platforms; the Skyrunner cruising against a nuclear sunset, away from a molten city on the horizon.. behold the fall of Markeen; and so on, and so on, until the very last glimpse of the Skyrunner, rising up from the Docking Bay amid a riot scene of frightening proportions on Freedom Way. It jets away on an unseen line, accelerating over the north wall, growing smaller, and touching the distant hazy horizon in a matter of seconds; witness the hijacking by Markeen terrorists. The tumultuous soundtrack ends on this suspenseful note, fading out along with the last frame of the footage, in which the airship cannot be seen at all anymore.
On the inky purple screen then comes the white lettering:Channel One Broadcasting Studios presents
(fade)
a special documentary miniseries
(fade)
THE SKYRUNNER MISSION
(fade)
Spring 110 P.A.Complete fade, back to the scheduled program.
Message: 20/49 Tuesday, June 5, 2001Marron 110PA News Bytes
"..and these predicted intermittent rains till mid-Spring should come as a boon to village farmers, but a disappointment for citizens hoping for a return to outdoor activities.
"The forest retreat in the center of the city was alight with celebration last night as the druids culminated the three night ceremonies leading up to the Vernal Equinox, with a well-attended dance on Bonfire Hill. Participants spoke of the high-energy atmosphere that became apparent as the sun rose on Marron twenty-first. The increased flow was taken advantage of in the creation of magical artifacts, and rituals overseen by adepts, in the grove, and, it is suspected, on the Academy of Magic campus.
"Traveler reports coming in from New Lazlo indicate increased Coalition naval activity on the southern edge of the eastern lakes. Heavy construction around their ports points to a planned new offensive in their war against the state of Free Quebec. Militia has redirected overland routes to the Lazlos northeast through Port Hope.
"..and in other local news, the mountain roads are clear once more for travel between the western Baronies and Tolkeen. The trail leading to the Shrine of the Oracle is open, which means that we should expect to see the first mass Pilgrimage of the season by as early as next weekend, as thousands of Followers of the Oracle of Delphi travel to pay homage to Apollo."
Message: 20/50 Friday, June 8, 2001Freak Weather Alert!
Woden's Day, Marron 24th, 110 PAChannel One Weather Specialist D'hom McVale, looking even more flustered than his usual self, was forced to come to the studio in the evening to report a special weather bulletin. Not that people have to be told that it's snowing.. no, -storming- again, but sometimes in that wacky profession called Weather Forecasting, it's necessary to state the completely obvious.
"..this has come without warning or really any scientific causality, Tolkeen, but as you can see if you look outside your windows, it's been snowing heavily since late this afternoon... thoroughly negating my prediction of smooth-sailing spring weather from here on in." Dhom blinks ruefully.. those guys get so sensitive when they're proven wrong! Maybe it's time they stop pre-recording the weather reports for the week on Moon days, or maybe hold off forcasting Freya day's weather until Woden's day?
"As you can see here from this time lapse footage, you can see a tightly localized low pressure region sweeping across the screens from the foothills to the South-west..." D'hom waves his arm over a swirling multi-colored region behind him as if it were clearly obvious what was happening if anyone with half a brain took a moment to think about it, even though it isn't... What /is/ clear is that there's snow (or rather slush) falling form the sky when there really shouldn't be. The multi-colored Doppler sequence repeats, and D'hom continues speaking after running his pudgy finger through his wild mane of hair nervously. "By all indications, it seems that the low pressure system is destabilizing, our current forecasts predict the front will continue East-North-Easterly until at least mid-day tomorrow before petering out to light showers and snow-flurries by tomorrow evening..."
Message: 20/51 Sunday, June 10, 2001Weather Update
Freya Day, Marron 26th, 110 PAWalter continues the top stories for the morning edition of the news, near the tail end of the hour-long broadcast: "...Militia scouts report local trade-routes have been closed after the day before yesterday's fierce storm. Militia scout, Hebekah Toomson, Private First Class, tells her experiences during the event..."
Walter is replaced by an image of a uniformed Militia member, the unflattering uniform on her body covered by a blue water-proof poncho as it very clearly rains sometime in the late evening. The woman speaks, her voice half-shouting into the microphone for some reason as the sequence begins, mid-sentence.
"...Our scout group alone rescued three separate parties trying to make it up the mountain to see the Oracle. Listen, folks:" She levels with the camera, without dropping her voice at all, "The trails up in the mountains are treacherous, and washed out in more places than usual, so stay home until they dry out. We scouts can't just keep rescuing you people when you don't have the common sense that Sunshine gave to a goat! And furthermore..." The female militia member disappears, finger raised as Walter returns to the screen.
Walter then turns towards his left and faces Jhartha Fjekkat, and adlibs to the woman, "It's a tough job, being a scout in the militia, and in weather like we've had these past few days, it can only get tougher, Jhartha..."
Jhartha answers, as the camera cuts to her glancing from Walter to the camera as if she could see the audience watching from behind it. Funny how those news folks can do that... "That's right Walter, and to give us an update on that weather front, here's D'hom Mcvale, D'hom?"
The camera cuts to D'hom, sitting to the left of Jhartha, his hair frizzing out like a lion's mane from the back of his head. "Thank you, Jhartha, it looks like the storm lost most of its power early last night, but not before dumping a foot of rain and several inches of snow on the city. After the break, I'll give you the latest forecast..."
D'hom disappears and is replaced by an advertisement for Zamphoon Motor Corp. In it, the commercial shows a group of happy factory workers pulling levers and stamping dies, as well as a bunch of stock footage of robo-welders doing their job to assemble various vehicle bits into a working machine. All of this, is of course done to the tune of a Techno-funk soundtrack, as the narrator goes on to comment on how efficient this specific plant in Cold-Rocks has been, and how the company is proud to have the small town's citizens in their workforce, yadda yadda yadda. Then the narrator continues to speak as the footage switches to that of an aircraft being assembled in what looks to be the same factory. His basso voice half-whispering in awe at the marvelous piece of engineering, and how the same amount of attention to detail goes into every Zamphoon product... it must be one of those commercials where the ad-execs want to drum up interest in their product without really putting anything new on the table.
The commercial ends and D'hom returns, standing before an image of the storm on radar. The colored animation begins, and one can see the brightly colored swirl moving across the screen from the southwest, and then curving in a hook to pass straight over Tolkeen, before puttering out into a smear of greenish streaks a few miles from Tolkeen as the animation stops. D'hom speaks, as he waves his hands over the green streaks and announces, "It looks like the storm has moved on outside Tolkeen after rapidly losing strength as it passed over the city. Workers at the Docking Bay report having a record 18 inches of snow fall, followed by several inches of rain. Earlier this morning, road crews were working to clear the streets, and if you're heading out this morning, be careful... the streets are slippery..." The radar view is replaced by a five-day forecast calling for over-cast conditions all week, save for Woden's Day... in which the cloud image has been replaced by a happy looking Sun followed by a big flashing red question mark... whatever that's supposed to mean...
Message: 20/52 Monday, June 25, 2001Early Pleuvus News Bytes
"..aaaand in other news, the aftermath of Pleuvus Fools pranks in Tolkeen seems to have faded. The most prominent and unfortunate case, involving a false report of harboring Coalition subversives, has now been sorted out between the neighboring villages of Austerity and Sherbrook, with only half a dozen casualties.
"Inns, boarding houses, and even the grand Freedom Hotel are approaching maximum capacity as travelers from all reaches of the kingdom, and in some cases beyond, arrive in anticipation of taking part in the journey into the Tephra mountain range where the Shrine of the Oracle is located. Village workers have reported good progress in repairing and restoring the various ravages to the notoriously obscure path, and plans have been set for Saturn Day. The early morning departure time from the city gates will allow for the thousands to make a weekend of it.
"Here's something for the books: Impromptu polls, taking advantage of this influx, bring surprising and momentous results on the matter of theological prominence. According to surveys, in terms of believers in the city-state of Tolkeen, the Oracle of Delphi religion has pulled ahead of The Church of Jesus Christ D-Bee for the first time in almost fifty years. Quite an accomplishment, as the locally founded faith approaches its 200 years anniversary since the initial reports of prophecy from the mountain Shrine.
"..news from abroad indicates amassing Coalition naval presence, with air support, departing their ports. Sources confirm that the armada will be met before the first Quebec-owned lock by FQ defenders, in a full blown clash as the CS makes a bid for full possession of the mouth of the seaway channel. Past reports of land-bound mechanized troops far north of Lazlo seem to support an encircling tactic.
"..from further south comes month-old reports of slaver barges raiding the eastern coast, which may explain the Coalition's hard drive to gain the Lawrence river passage from Quebec. Channel One will bring you more on these developments as news comes in.."
Message: 20/53 Saturday, July 14, 2001Oracle Attacked!
The Top Story of the Thor's Day Evening, Pleuvus 8th, 110 P.A. edition of Channel One News shows Walter Riely sitting beneath an inset reading: "Oracle Attacked!" The reporter begins speaking after the standard introduction of the news-team.
"...Top story tonight reveals recently released information from the Militia involving a suspected terrorist attack upon the Shrine of the Oracle of Delphi earlier this afternoon." The reporter pauses for a moment as the camera angle changes, focusing directly on his upper body and ignoring the rest of the news team. "The attack ended with seventeen confirmed dead and an unreleased number of missing individuals. The Militia is close-mouthed about the proceedings of the attack, stating only that two of the suspected terrorists have been captured, one of which are in critical condition and under militia guard." The camera angle switches to a wide angle shot of Walter and Jhartha as the Dbee woman takes up the story from Walter's stopping point.
"Unsubstantiated rumors about the terrorists true motives have not been confirmed, " Uhoh.. she didn't say.... 'Suspected terrorists' was it a slip of the tongue or intentional? "Although reports do indicate that the Shrine did not suffer damage, and that the Oracle is alive and well. No eyewitness accounts have been released by the Militia, and we have been unable to confirm the names of those involved, so we'll have more on this story as it progresses." The camera switches to Walter as he segues into the next story.
"The First Quarter fish harvest reports are in at...."
Message: 20/54 Monday, July 30, 2001Commercial: Miniseries Starts
Aired all the last two weeks of PleuvusThe commercials begin appearing frequently in the week that the new documentary miniseries debuts. The Skyrunner Mission, a production sponsored by Lynn-Tech Enterprises, is touted as the big vidscreen event of the season. Channel One Action News anchors Walter and Jhartha work in product shots as they grin stupidly but winningly at the viewer, introducing the preview. Like most good trailers, the ad attempts to convey the sense of trepidation and tension of the events, and yet at the same time avoid giving away the surprises, let alone the ending.
Set to a ominous arrangement of drums, choral shouts, and synthetic string, the scene samples flash by with sometimes over-exposed, sometimes blurred, effects:
Snow-covered ruins: A tall, strong woman (Elegra) looking up from tossing a swig of firewater into her coffee tin, and calling, "We -goin'- ta Monstah Land, Gar'th, yew nut-atch!";
Cut to a darkened forest road: Rockhound, exasperated, angling closer and holding his arms out to his sides, palms upward. "I'm not suggesting that we *walk* all the way, Mr. Vaughn. What I'm saying is that we need to SLOW DOWN.";
Cut to the shadowy backdrop of the filthy, slime-covered side of a large vehicle: Ailic saying tersely to Gareth, "You're telling me I have 6 hours to figure this out or we're going to track it all over the countryside and infect anything we touch with it..";
Cut to a closed oaken doorway framing a pretty but tough-looking redhead (Jenny), who looks almost towards the camera, asking sternly, "What kinda trouble are you boys in?";
"..rather than trying to destroy the slime, we should be thinking on its level," Walter's sound-byte plays over the visual of a crouching Rockhound's shutting off the pencil-thin beam of his laser wand and jumping to his feet in the broken thicket, raising his hands high in triumph and whooping, "YES!";
Cut to a wintery forest clearing, where the fur-clad Jenny circles patiently around the armor-clad Gareth, and checks out his ass, while he tracks her movements bemusedly. Them wilderness gals're bold! Accompanying the scene is recorded dialogue from another point in time;
Jenny: "You know.. there are explorers and treasure hunters before you who've gone inside, after the Xits bit the big one.. far as I know, none of them ever came back out."
Gareth: "..I ain't go'n back tah Tolkeen until I git tah tha bloody ship... Whut could pussi-bly be duwn there tha be so mooch trubble?"
He had to ask. The next clip is of a ruggedly dressed man falling through the surface of quickly-breaking snowy ground, disappearing except for a rapidly trailing lifeline rope.
At which point the pace, and volume of music and noise picks up dramatically; the viewer is treated to a trio of action shots:
-Gareth and Elegra braced at the head of the opening hatchway of a moving vehicle, past which can be seen a herd of frightening wild bison, stampeding.
-A wildly jostling race along a dim forest trail, blood-freezing shrieks tearing across the audio over the terrified yells of the party members who flee before the camera, riding horseback or running on foot, towards open fields.
-Wilderness-grubby Gareth giving an equally disheveled Rockhound a roundhouse punch to the side of the face, knocking him to the side. All by the flickering light of an offscreen campfire!
The musical score peaks and fades, as the next shot returns to the eerie silence of the northlands, a faintly humming tension in the air as the camera pans across the base of snow-spotted alien landscape. We are seeing a small, close-up piece of what must be the Duluth Xiticix Hive... and there are holes where the ground has collapsed inwards. The frame finally centers on members of the team using ropes to drop over the side and climb down out of sight, their labored breathing beginning to invade the audio. Our view then cuts to an upwards shot of the grey sky, seen through the cracked opening. Heavy breathing over radio channels accompanies the last of the armored figures as he rappels past the edge of the frame, and we are left with several dangling cords, and a deceptively peaceful view of the slowly moving clouds. A few seconds pass before the caption fades onto the slowly darkening screen:
The Skyrunner Mission Following that are the more mundane facts such as airtime and date. OOC: Episode One can now be viewed on the website - go to http://rfc.betterbox.net/skymission1.html
Message: 20/55 Saturday, September 22, 2001Julius 110PA News Bytes
"...best of luck to you, Gwydo, with those Tolkeen Lottery winnings.
"And now as promised, the reports of agents returning from abroad have been processed and confirmed by the Militia, and given to Channel One to update the conflict between the Coalition and the State of Free Quebec. Travelers have been hard-pressed by numerous land skirmishes involving mechanized troops and SAMAS, on both sides of the Lawrence River - numerous witness accounts verify the presence of Glitterboys, and describe ground forces that Militia intelligence holds as not of C.S. design. Success appears to be with the Coalition forces as they press their offensive inwards, cutting off naval support with the strength of their armada, and seizing control of key settlements along the route.
"According to sources, the main battle is waged much farther along the river, south of a city known as Old Bones. For those of our viewers unfamiliar with the territory, that's around four hundred miles from our farthest ally, the kingdom of Lazlo. It also means that the C.S. forces have overcome several 'locks' - those are gateways to separate canals - in Free Quebec's naval defenses. It is speculated by ex-military sources that if the Coalition wrests control of the entire waterway from its former allied State, it will eventually grow to become an unbeatable presence on the eastern coast of the continent. Past efforts to claim coastal territory, we may assume, have been stymied by the presence of supernatural raiders from the mysterious continent known as Atlantis. The easing up along our own borders seems further evidence that Chi-Town is throwing all available power into their war effort against Quebec.
"Perhaps a direct effect from these developments, Tolkeen is enjoying an unusual rise in trade and friendly tourism with our allied kingdoms. Food prices are down across the board, especially with the first crop harvest in from our agricultural community. Just this week, the winner of Sherbrook's forty-second annual Turnip Pageant was chosen by Mayor Holden... here's a look for our viewers - amazing, isn't it, folks.. it looks just like the new Tolkeen Naval Fortress!
"In other local news, a small cafe located on Adelaide and Tarn was appropriated by the Commercial Planning Board this Freya Day, due to the loss of its entire management staff. The Pitcher and Easel was run by the Jurgens family for the past ten years, until tragedy struck this spring - Sabael Jurgens lost his wife and son to an as yet unsolved crime of magic. Shortly after the funeral two months ago, workers at the cafe reported Mr. Jurgens himself missing. Board rep Jergy Vogels made the statement that 'more than enough grieving time had been alloted' to the cafe owner, and despite their personal sympathy with his loss, the planning board could not overlook this extended, unexplained absence..."
Message: 20/56 Sunday, October 7, 2001Tenements Fire
Julius 19th, 110 PA. Evening News.Jhartha Fjekkat appears, centered on the screen after Walter Riely finishes his standard intro at the top of the evening newscast. Above her shoulder, a caption reading: 'Housing Project Burns', complete with animated flames engulfing the structure.
"Dozens of families are forced to seek shelter elsewhere in the city tonight, as the Tenements, a local housing project in the southwestern quadrant went up in flames early this morning. At approximately 3 Am, according to investigators on the scene, the fire spread from the ground level apartment of resident Thomas Sinclair until it engulfed the entirety of one of the three buildings in the complex. Firefighters' quick response prevented the spread of the fire beyond the first building."
Jhartha continues speaking and is replaced by a cut to footage of the fire-fighters battling the blaze, much of the building already destroyed in the shot. "Investigators have confirmed that a minor accelerant was a factor in the blaze, we are told here at Channel One that some sort of chemical lab was housed in Mr. Sinclair's apartment, which may have caused the inferno. Arson has not been ruled out, but any leads, according to investigators, are only circumstantial so far. A standard magical and psychic sweep by the team was unable to find any evidence due to a series of leyline fluctuations in the area and interference by a local mystic, Rayne Daye who witnesses say attempted to fight the growing blaze with magic."
"Only a short time ago, Jhartha, this reporter has learned of a rumor among those who fought the blaze, that a suspicious call was received at least fifteen minutes before witnesses report the blaze starting. I don't know about you, but that sounds like arson to me." Walter cuts in, conveniently during a wide angled shot of the studio, the smug look of someone silently chanting in a singsong: 'I just pulled something on you, which just goes to show you why I'm head anchor of Channel One Ne-eeewws!'
And then it's Walter's turn for the camera to be on him. He appears to have taken the human-interest side of this story, giving the hard news to Jhartha, for once. "Medics on the scene shortly after the blaze began, tended to only minor injuries and smoke inhalation during the blaze. Two children, Frieda Whittaker and Yung Starling thought lost in the fire by residents of the building, were later found unharmed and playing in a vacant lot within walking distance of the complex..."
Jhartha manages to adlib something at the end of Walter's sentence, effectively stealing the scene from Walter for a short time, before Walter manages to wrest it back by shifting to another story: "In other news tonight, local businessman Clarence Lynn this afternoon during a charity auction for the Tolkeen City Zoo, had this to say about the blaze:"
The man known as Clarence Lynn appears on the screen, among a throng of people and in the harsh light of a camera setup without the adequate amount of flesh-toned makeup handy. Because of this, the gaunt faced man with a hatchet nose and a uni-brow looks even more severe than usual, as he speaks in the terse and proper tones of a university graduate. "....may speak on a different subject for a moment, we at Lynn Tech Industries are greatly concerned with the well being of our workers. As you may well know, Mister Riely, many of the residents in that building are employees of the company bearing my family's name. On behalf of the company, and my sister, I would very much like to announce that Lynn Tech Industries will do everything it can to relocate those families who lost their homes in the blaze..." Clarence turns away from the camera promptly at the end of the sentence, to pay attention to the boring things going on up on the stage.. what is that hideous thing they're auctioning? Is it some sort of dung sculpture? How disgusting....
Message: 20/57 Thursday, October 25, 2001Mid-Julius News Bytes
"...promises to be a popular summer event at the Cove. Hopeful young Misses entering the swimsuit pageant can win twenty-five thousand credits and an opportunity to tour Tolkeen in style for a year. Contestants have only two weeks left to enter..
"And in other local news, talks have opened up between the Council and the Federation of Magic, with the arrival of an ambassador from the Magic Zone. This event will be the first diplomatic test of the new triumvirate, with General Caldwell serving as an interim member, until a suitable permanent figure can be appointed to replace the late Fenris Te'akane'. The cyborg Councilor's funeral procession will be held within the week, the details to be announced closer to the event for security reasons.
"More information on the ongoing battles between Chi-Town and Free Quebec has been released by the Militia, along with unconfirmed traveler reports. Allied kingdoms and other peaceful territories have been thus far giving the Coalition and Free Quebec a wide berth. However, there are reports of organized mercenary groups and sellswords swarming towards the sites of war, allying themselves with one side or the other with the prospects of acquisition and the chance to settle old grudges. These independents can only help escalate the level of carnage and danger to anyone traveling in that area. Perhaps it is these groups, along with the Coalition ground reinforcements, that have been responsible for some alleged raids on villages and towns in the neighboring kingdoms.
"It seems that the Coalition States have claimed, and now hold much of the waterway locks from the lakes to the open sea. It seems that there is little chance of Quebec forces stopping Prosek from conquering the entire river, which would leave them at the mercy of their former allies. However, word from several separate sources would lead us to believe that additional conflict has been brewing at the mouth of the river. The Lawrence, seen here, opens wide into the ocean, and the rumors are spreading, that a /third/ party has engaged Quebec forces in the seaway. Who it may be and what sort of influence they will have on the battle between the two titans is still to be determined as agents report back to the Allied Kingdoms.
"And in related news, the D-Bee community of Tolkeen held a small rally today in the southwest sector, sending this message to the powers that be: 'Strike now and avenge our dead'.. and they will continue with such growing demonstrations until the Militia takes action..."
Message: 20/58 Wednesday, December 5, 2001Mid-Honorius News Bytes
"...Militia would not confirm the traveler reports that the southern states of the Coalition are experiencing some inner turmoil as their occupying forces are drawn thinner, due to the diverting of troops to the main offensive along the Lawrence River. Could this be the beginnings of a coup in the mighty Coalition states?
"In related news, we have received word from several sources that Kingsdale, an independent kingdom deep in the midst of the southern States, has taken advantage of the weakening of the borders to seize disputed territory away from their unfriendly neighbors. A bold move on the part of their warlord, but strategy analysts suggest that it might have been better to wait and observe the progress of the northern front, before committing manpower and resources to a fight with what is still the most powerful force on the continent. That seems to be the motto to which the Federation of Magic subscribes. They remain in talks with the Tolkeen Council to determine the feasibility of a new defense pact, in light of the past months' developments.
"Gaining any noteworthy news regarding the battle at the mouth of the Lawrence is becoming nigh impossible - Tolkeen intelligence forces have apparently been involved in numerous skirmishes while trying to reach contacts to the northeast, sustaining heavy casualties for their efforts. The scant information that has come back seems to lend credence to the fact that the new power at the mouth of the Lawrence remains a threat, and is most probably made up entirely of magic-wielding inhumans. An unsettling prospect to be sure, and not without its irony, where the two former allied powers are concerned...
"Lastly in this segment, news on the hastily organized relief efforts towards the free territory of Madison far to the east of our lands. The first volunteer mission to their northernmost settlements has paved a clear route overland, that later convoys will follow imminently. Seen here is an overhead angle of the Mississippi River, where the Militia will drop off an armored carrier on the eastern shore near the village of Sherbrook, to accompany the next team of Tolkeen volunteers. This second team will focus on the southern villages of Madison, who've experienced new raids in the past month.. so if you happen to be on the candidates list, expect a call from the effort organizers soon.
"And to close on a hopeful note, here's a message from one of the first team's members. Doctor Jiang Quan writes, and I quote: The land of Madison is breathtakingly beautiful, and it would be a shame and an outrage to see it crushed in the Coalition's uncaring wake. This is why we're here, why we exist. I have never been so proud to be a citizen of Tolkeen..."
Message: 20/59 Monday, March 4, 2002Diplomat Arrival Footage
Samhain 1st, 110 PADuring the news hour, Channel One is among the stations eager to replay footage taken of the two separate demonstrations in Tolkeen when the Coalition Diplomat arrived. Freedom Way above Wallside South was clogged with milling citizens, several carrying signs and placards to relay their... greetings... to the ambassador of the new treaty. Tolerating the disturbance for almost half an hour, the suits of blue and gold simply stood in force to keep the tide from flooding the entire intersection. Only after it was generally realized that the envoy had been diverted to the eastern gates, did the crowds disperse, leaving litter and several broken windows in their wake.
Meanwhile, halfway across the city, a few hundred smart-asses had enough foresight to place their bets on the lesser-used entrance to Tolkeen. Overhead cameras take in the relatively more intimate gathering, no less agitated, and also restrained by a complement of Militia security. While the news anchors continue to paraphrase the events into abstract bytes, the lenses manage to capture a more vivid montage for fickle viewers:
There's the dozen white gowned cultists: Standing in a rough diagonal line, these blank faced humans (and one vaguely aquarian D-Bee) raise their fists in time with some bizarre chanting about the Devil in the Citadel. Then there is the old couple who, goddammit, aren't gonna be pushed around by some punk kid, whom some may recognize as that skinny Academy guy, Lupe. Various threats are exchanged, probably regarding the old man's cane and in whose orifice it will be inserted. And of course there's the kid who ate too much cotton candy and threw up on Lupe's footwear. In all the hubbub, nobody seems to notice Lupe wipe his boot on the back of the crying kid's pants.
"Even controversial figures like Oshe Brighstar and Rayne Lazarus of the ill-fated Madison excursion, made an appearance for the event." The camera starts on a hectic shot of Rayne trying to avoid notice on the fringes, then pans closer to the sight of Oshe standing up from a portable reclining chair and perching on a drinks cooler of all things, to get a better look over the heads in the crowd. Can't get much more controversial than that. Nearby, a bipedal lemur is seen trying to get the attention of a tall, garishly dressed woman (Roberta) holding up a small, silvery camera.
The small creature's entreaties are all but drowned out by a roar from the collective, and the camera whips towards the intersection of Drake and Wallside East, trucking out at the same time. Three wide automobile-style vehicles are passing under the shadow of the thick gates area, thowing off brief sheens of light from overhead fixtures. A motorcade of three Militia riders precedes them, coasting within the cleared ring of crowd-control guards. Then the trio of cycles grind the pavement as they head towards the north end of the intersection. The first car rides back into the sunlight. Its windows are polarized completely dark.
That doesn't go over well at all, and at the realization that the diplomat isn't going to be showing his face any time soon, the more rowdy of the citizens begin to show their displeasure by chucking cans, fruits, and... heeyyy, books! Now /that/'s ironic creativity! "Let down the windows! Let's see yer face, tough guy!" is the unified sentiment. Glass shatters on the road within the ring, to be ground to bits and powder under the sculpted armored wheels of the cars. Other debris, rock-hard or otherwise, bounces and clatters off the surface of the lead vehicle, with only the smallest scratch. Suddenly, the lemur itself tumbles through the air, hitting the roof of the lead car, and scrabbling to avoid the other projectiles.
In the end, nothing seems to persuade the man behind the shaded glass to come out.. but then, it's almost understandable, given the state of things. The small fleet of vehicles drives northward along Wallside until out of sight, monkey-thing and all. The news camera pulls back further until the angry crowd is seen again, almost in its entirety. Individuals seem to struggle within, and especially near part of the edge, where Oshe, Roberta, and Lupe are getting into, or out of, some trouble with a bunch of rowdies. But the Militia is more prevalent, too, coming out in force to deal with the minor pandemonium.
The footage cuts out there, and Walter introduces a statement by Militia Rep LT Godfreys: "While it is completely understandable that there is a great deal of anger still towards the Coalition States, today's public display of mob violence was an embarrassing contradiction of Tolkeen's creed of tolerance and enlightenment. If we are to take steps towards the continued security of our lands, and hope to have any positive impact on our guests from the Coalition.." - did he just say.. guests, /plural/? - "..especially in light of recent events, it is vital that we behave in a more civilized fashion. If it becomes necessary, the Militia will enforce restrictions upon organized demonstrations in the future. So let's work together..." And blah blah blah blah.
Still.. he does have a point...
Message: 20/60 Wednesday, March 27, 2002Madison Tribunal Verdict
Woden's Day, Samhain 27th, 110 P.A.A special news segment airs at intervals throughout the day, covering public statements made by a panel of Militia officials regarding the Madison Fiasco. This month, an investigations tribunal was held behind closed doors, attended by the surviving participants of the latest skirmish with Coalition-aligned forces. After testimony was given and evidence presented to the seven inquisitors, they spent almost a week in deliberations before contacting the media to relay their findings to the public.
After news anchors Walter Riely and Jhartha Fjekkat introduce the segment, cameras focus on a representative from the investigations panel, one Detective LT Charles Bradley of the Militia Police, a human male with the distinct looks of a young bulldog with a large moustache. He sits uncomfortably under the bright lights of the studio, his forehead already starting to shine through the powder, and answers Jhartha's questions with almost point-form efficiency, referring to a page of notes every so often.
Who were the survivors of the incident in Madison? "On Tolkeen's side, there were ten: SGT Pierre Bourreau, Oshe Brighstar, CPL Chax Hollander, Dr. Ailic Johnstone, Krynlan Laboa, Rayne Lazarus, Nathan Nichols (Nickel), PVT David Smart, PVT David Vorpe, and CPL William Wulf. Plus two independent specialists from the Baronies. Two from the other side also gave witness testimony, a Coalition dogboy, and a pilot who we'd at first assumed was shot down and killed in battle."
What did happen in the village of Paterson, that day? "Well, the meeting between the Coalition forces and our relief team occurred just as they were leaving the area to return to Tolkeen. The Coalition forces were passing through the territory to resupply. Unfortunate twist of timing. The conflict sparked quickly on both sides, each fired upon the other, it was over in a matter of minutes. Five were killed - one Coalition soldier, four mercenary operatives sponsored by Chi-Town. One of the independent specialists suffered a crippling injury, but there were no fatalities on Tolkeen's side. Unfortunately, Paterson itself suffered the most losses - seven villagers, and quite a lot of property damage."
Can you tell us who, or what, is ultimately to blame for the incident? "Two things. First, the Coalition team misinterpreted a rash action on the part of a Tolkeen citizen, as an act of hostility. Next, there occurred a breakdown in command in the Militia squad accompanying the volunteer team, that.. perpetuated that notion of hostility."
What exactly does that mean? "That means, Ms. Fjekkat, that we of Tolkeen are willing to own up to our mistakes in the incident. But the Coalition ought to agree that their members were also guilty of poor judgment. It is.. unfortunate that so many of their own squad perished over those errors. Both sides engaged in battle. Our boys came out on top. That outcome can't be helped." A touch of smugness. Just a touch.
Will there be any restitution made to Chi-Town for Tolkeen's part in this regrettable fiasco? "I'd appreciate it if you didn't use that term, Ms. Fjekkat. Of course, our Militia members in question will face some punishment for their part in the incident, continued suspension from duty, would be our recommendation. SGT Bourreau, who led the squad, will be court martialed and brought up on charges, for this. And we expect similar consequences for the commander of the Coalition team. There are no charges pending for the civilian volunteers of this mission."
Will the Tolkeen Council also be issuing a formal apology to Chi-Town? "..that's not something I can answer to at this time. But I will say, that as we have concluded that both parties were at fault, to an extent, and because it occurred just a day after the non-aggression pact was signed, the situation should not be thought to have broken the agreement, whatsoever."
And what of the village of Paterson, the innocent victims of the clash between two powers? "I think we're moving beyond the scope of the material covered by the tribunal."
But will they receive any further aid or restitution from Tolkeen? "If you must know, the people of Free Madison've refused further offers of aid'r restitution. The village of Paterson's no more. Is that what you wanted to know?"
Thank you, Detective Lieutenant Bradley, for joining us this hour...
Message: 20/61 Sunday, April 28, 2002Fire in Paris
Aired in late Norand, 110PAThe Sun Day evening edition of Channel One News continues after a commercial break, Walter Riely speaks, "In other news this week, Militia troops battled to contain a blaze that threatened to consume the village of Paris, sparked during a firefight with suspected smugglers in the area. The accused: identified as Simon, full name unknown, and Gregory Wienhart age twenty-eight were apprehended after a fierce gun-battle that destroyed much of the Paris village dock-complex."
An inset enlarges itself, showing the still smoking wreckage as locals pick through to see what they can salvage. "Found in the wreckage and alongside the accused at their capture, an estimated hundred and fifty-thousand credits of contraband material including assorted weapons and CS propaganda material."
The inset showing the wreckage enlarges to fill the entire screen as the footage is replaced by what can only be a Paris local, a dark haired swarthy individual in rugged cold-weather gear. The caption proclaims him to be: "Immanuel Heighliner, Cmd. Blue Heron Ferry." The man speaks, loudly perhaps unused to the concept of a microphone-those back-woods hicks probably haven't ever seen a video camera. "Those lazy ******s hired on a few weeks ago, I knew they were up to no good since the day I. . ." The footage cuts badly to later in the interview with the river-captain, "One of them got away and started shooting, he managed to kill poor Charlotte with a lucky shot. . ." "Who is Charlotte? Is she a citizen here?" "Oh no, she's the dredger, over there a'ways... without her t'wouldn't be able to get any of the bigger vessels in here, too shallow you'know." "Can you tell us anything about battle?" "Well, only one of them got away, you see me and my boys.. why they're a great crew, hardest workers I've ever seen. Remember, that's the Blue Heron Ferry in Paris village, thirty credits an eighth-ton, fifteen a head making stops six times daily. . ." Another cut occurs, apparently the editors begin to get tired of the pretentious captain. ". . . Never would have captured the one without the help of those two men, what's their name. . . Nickel and uh. . . Oshe, whatever the boys in blue and gold say t'weren't them that caused all'a this damage, no sir. . ."
The caption and scene changes to that of a militia officer from the area reciting the official report. "The two accused have also been charged with the murder of one Daniel Morito. The incident began with the accused being confronted by two Tolkeen residents over the murder of the local man in the witness of the rest of the crew of the Blue Heron. The accused attempted to flee, one of whom was captured before escape. The second man escaped to one of the warehouses along the pier and opened fire with a heavy plasma weapon hidden in the cache. The pursuit of the armed man resulted in the death of four militia operatives, including Lt. Halloway Gormond, leading the pursuit. Lt. Gormond was destroyed moments before the gunman destroyed himself."
Walter Riely returns to finish the story. "Paris officials estimate the cost of repair of the facilities to be in excess of one million credits. Repair of the docks, which are to be delayed until significant funds have been collected, is expected to take over a year. Paris officials plan to raise docking fees to cover the cost." The inset changes to reveal the tri-partite flame of Lynn Tech as Jhartha Fjekkat segues into the next story: "Lynn Tech released a press statement today declaring their intention of extending funds to Paris to cover the cost of the village's repair effort should they support Lynn Tech's expansion into the area. Lynn Tech believes that Paris will experience an increase in maritime traffic that will make the expansion into the nearby village worthwhile. Paris officials are said to be considering the offer. . . Up next, the weather with Dhom Mcvale, what's this week have in store for us, Dhom?"
The crazy haired Dbee answers with a cheery smile on his face, "It looks like we're going to get snow, Jhartha. Stay tuned after the break."
Jhartha returns to the camera, "Thanks Dhom, also be sure to tune in at ten for 'Talk Back Live'... my topic this week is "Weapons control in Tolkeen, are we doing enough?""
Message: 20/62 Friday, May 17, 2002Decrembe News Bytes
"...revising its policies on territorial exile. City Hall representative Xelda Pratchett told media groups this Woden's Day that criminals sentenced to be mercifully ejected from the kingdom, will now be shipped westward into the wastelands of Montana, by way of Iron Horse Ley Line Transport. Concerns were raised last month when territory residents up in northern communities reported seeing and dealing with small groups of persons bearing the exile brand. <screen inset shows a close-up of a flower-like red weal on skin, appears to be the left side of throat just below the jaw> It seems obvious that since the destruction of the Duluth Hive and its Xiticix inhabitants, the act of depositing exiles in the deadlands has proven less than effective...
"..More local security measures are being introduced imminently, as Militia technical crews have begun work in a section of neighborhood blocks south of City Hall. The long awaited sensory system will be unveiled by the Militia for a public demonstration, perhaps within the week. Representative Lieutenant Korocan Godfreys would only say that the measures would allow citizens to retain a reasonable amount of personal protection, while making it more difficult for energy weapons to be used for illegitimate purposes...
"..In news abroad, the lengthy Coalition campaign against Free Quebec and the unexpected non-human force from the sea has taken its toll on both sides, it has been reported by operatives in the field. The onset of winter must only heighten the desperation of the northern kingdom, with its supply lines cut off and much of the great waterway held by its enemy. This may be why rumors have both reached military intelligence, and come from the mouths of wayfarers, that Chi-Town is seeking to discuss terms of surrender with Quebec. Ambassador Cutler here in Tolkeen would not confirm any such actions on the part of his government...
"And now, stay tuned to Channel One News for a special reading of a message straight from a high official in Chi-Town, concerning the verdict of the Madison Tribunal that took place more than a month ago."
<cont'd in next post>
Message: 20/63 Friday, May 17, 2002Chi-Town Speaks
Early Decrembe, 110 PAA serious-eyed Jhartha Fjekkat introduces the segment with an explanation of what viewers are about to see and hear. "The following remarks read by Channel One News Anchor Walter Riely, are taken from a video message submitted to media agencies by the Coalition Ambassador in Tolkeen, Joseph Cutler. It has taken more than two weeks of debate and compromise with Council and military authorities to be able to share this information with our viewers. Instead of playing the video in its original format, Walter will read from a transcript while to my right, there will be displayed stills of the recording." She ends her little preamble and looks to the side. What, no warning for small children and pregnant ladies to leave the room?
Walter Riely, to Jhartha's left, drops his gaze to the single page in his hands occasionally as he reads out in a slightly stiff news voice (since it really wouldn't do to recite what follows as if he himself thought it a splendid idea). Meanwhile, as promised, a picture insert appears above Miz Fjekkat's right shoulder. The background is simply a wall emblazoned with the Coalition emblem. A robust, dark young man in formal military dress is captured from the chest up, gazing at the camera while he's caught in mid-speech, the down-turned corners of his mouth influencing his frosty demeanor. Although the grainy vid still is relatively small and the caption even smaller, and there are many who wouldn't know his face from the local paper boy's, word would spread retroactively, speculating that this was none other than the younger Prosek, Joseph the Second himself.
"Concerning the outcome of the Tolkeen tribunal over the incident at Madison," reads Walter. "The following is our official response to the messages sent by their military to our investigators... We were less than satisfied with the verdict handed down by the military panel of Tolkeen. Any suggestion that Coalition officers share the blame for the conflict is insult added to injury, as far as we are concerned, and that our representatives were not permitted to participate in the inquiry, and that some requests from our investigations unit were not honored by Tolkeen officials, makes us wonder at the sincerity of their claims that this no-aggression pact is indeed important to their government. However..."
Walter pauses for two seconds, though one couldn't possibly believe that good ol' Riely would be intentionally adding in some drama to his narration. "Since.. we are the greater nation, it is our /prerogative/ to show mercy on Tolkeen's faults, this time, and accept the punishment of the offending squad's leader.... We also hope that her people will learn from this perilous event, that sparked with the.. inexplicable actions of an inhuman creature." Small pause, then Walter reads on stolidly, "How can a society truly prosper when a significant percentage of its population, namely D-Bees, behaves and reasons with such alien, unpredictable, and untrustworthy processes...? It is our sincere hope that Tolkeen will open her eyes to the truth, before too many more human lives are lost." Walter then lowers the paper to the surface before him.<cont'd in next post>
Message: 20/64 Friday, May 17, 2002Chi-Town Speaks, Part II
Jhartha comes back to life, almost mechanically introducing the next video broadcast recorded personally by Mr. Ambassador:
Coalition Captain Joseph Cutler, in formal dress, records his remarks from his embassy office: "I have been studying the Madison Inquiry very closely, and I do believe that this so-called case is full of flaws. It is very clear to me that the forces of Tolkeen were to blame for the incident occurring in the first place. Our troops were threatened by what they saw as a magical attack, prompting their attack upon the tower. Our men were trying to defend themselves from a possible threat. It was not until minutes later that it became known whom the defending forces were; members of the Tolkeen Militia. From what I gather, once our forces realized whom they were mistakenly attacking, they then tried to pull out, in a hope to call a cease-fire, with the Tolkeen force. However, before this could be done, they came under fire by a Tolkeen Glitterboy unit. Our forces may have made the initial mistake, due to the fact that they felt threatened. But, as soon as the discovered their mistake, they tried to rectify it, but were not able to because the Tolkeen force became trigger-happy. However, as has been said, we are willing to except the responsibilities of actions, to show the people of Tolkeen that we can be merciful, and able to work for peace. The next step is for the city of Tolkeen to do likewise, and admit when they are wrong. Through this, we can build a better relationship between our two states, working towards peace and a possible friendship between us."
The viewing fades, then cuts back to our stoic anchors, who remind their viewership that the segment was merely a fair presentation of newsworthy items, and not a sponsorship for Coalition rhetoric. They also mention that the Town Crier would be printing the same messages in their paper, the next day.<<OOC Note: PC Cutler is usually available for RP scenes between 9am to 5pm EST, being a player in the UK. Please contact him by @mail or e-mail if you would like to arrange a mutually agreeable time for play. :) Additionally, from past experience, we have realized that this particular storyline theme may tend to get RIFTs enthusiasts a little hot under the collar, not only ICly, but OOCly as well. Should this be the case, please consider that it is perfectly reasonable and cool for Characters to rant and rave if they are so inclined, but Players need not be personally or intellectually offended. Everything that is happening today in the IC world of RfC was set into motion by past documented events, which may be overlooked or forgotten, as our storylines tend to move slowly. :) - Cent>>
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