Difference between revisions of "Creator Protest - RPLOG"
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− | <div></div> | + | <div></div><br> <br>It is hot and sunny in the Fair District today and beings of all sizes and descriptions are going about their business and enjoying the exhibits on display. |
+ | |||
+ | Among those visiting the fair today is a rather unusual group. A small knot of Creators wearing clothes that seem to be a (poor) imitation of local styles has basically set up camp in front of the main lecture hall and are waving signs and chanting slogans and shouting at beings as they pass by. Admittedly, it is an utter mystery to most of the beings in attendance. | ||
+ | |||
+ | A little ways away, a miniature rhino dressed in a Creator style jumpsuit is seated alone at a little cafe with a drink in hand, watching the unruly Creators.<br> <br>And then, there is Flora, dressed in a simple, white robe, emblazoned with the emblem of LongTech Industries, pacing about, her tails flicking behind her as she peers at the protesting creators, before she moves closer to the group. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Her golem besides her, and her two usual guards trailing behind her, she seems confident, in decent spirits, and rather confused about the picketing creators.<br> <br>Drawn to the increased bustle of people like an insect to a flame, Fetnah fairly dances along through the folk, free with her smile. She stops at exhibits along the way, occasionally peering at them each as if fascinated for a few minutes before moving along to the next. Her nose twitches and is drawn to the occasional pastry shop, but she does not stop there. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Upon noticing the creators, she nearly stumbles over her own feet, coming to a stop. She watches the tableau with attention as the tigress approaches the small knot with her golem and guards.<br> <br>The Creators are difficult to understand, with the way that they and their strange little translating machine spirits keep shouting over each other. But amidst the irrelevant babble and according to their First Tongue covered picket signs, it becomes apparent that they are, in fact, protesting scholarly progress on Promise. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Keep PROMISE pure!" a translator device gabbles, with the tell-tale sound that indicates it has paraphrased something. It's owner, a tall, willowy creator, waves his sign around in the air as he shouts. At least, it seems to be male. He has short hair and a masculine appearance, but he is wearing a rather poor simulacrum of a lady's ball gown. Apparently there is still some confusion over gender-appropriate clothing out there among the stars. "SCHOLARS will ruin your world!" he chants, and frowns at Flora's approach, "Nature provides everything we need!" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Even over the responding, affirmative shouts of the other Creators, the loud sigh of the watching rhino sounds.<br> <br>A very large grizzly bear passes by the peculiar group without giving them a moment's notice, his head dipped in a notebook and a capillary pen in his free paw, with a little clipboard and an inkwell. Then, as though on a delayed timer, he stops, actually walks BACKWARDS, and stares at them, taking in their rhetoric as best he can. Then, in a methodical manner, he slides his pen, nib up, into one of the pouches of his belt, removes his pince-nez and places them on his clipboard, places his paw over his face, and gives a great, big sigh of annoyance.<br> <br>A raise of the brow, a flick of the tail, and a soft rumble, as Flora coughs, loudly, to get the Creators' attention. "Ahem," she offers, looking over the crowd, and flicking her tail behind her. "Who, exactly, is in charge here?" she asks after a little while, flicking her ears, and looking decidedly displeased.<br> <br>"Flora would like to speak with them, yes."<br> <br>Shaking herself out of her shocked stupor, Fetnah begins to maneuver her way closer to the strange cluster and their antics. She glances from the signs, to the creators, to the others that seem to be gathering around as well, then angles in to put herself close enough to clearly hear what is going on. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Noticing a bear about to back over her, she nimbly darts around him, casting a brief look of reproach before stopping next to him as he makes a gesture of frustrated annoyance. Her gaze then drifts around to pick out the other strange stanging off to the side, a rhino in creator clothing.<br> <br>The loud Creator in the ball gown looks askance at Flora. "We don't have a leader," he says disdainfully, "We stand together as equals against the heartless advance of SCHOLARLY PURSUITS and CREATOR MAGIC!" The other creators all echo the sentiment in agreement. It suddenly becomes apparent that all of these Creators seem to be quite young. | ||
+ | |||
+ | As a curious crowd starts to gather at a respectful distance, the little rhino leaves his drink at his table and tries to weave through the press toward Flora, looking more than a little embarassed.<br> <br>Corin spots the smaller, spotty being and gives a mumbled apology to her before he glances over at Flora and gives her a wave, mumbling, "None of these..." He mumbles a string of expletives under his breath that would make a longshoreman blush, "...have ever been hungry, have they." <br> <br>"Right, yes. Flora sees. And Mister Parson is aware of this... Protest, despite Promise being considered largely souvereign until its status with the creators is decided?" the she-cat offers, as her tails flick behind her, and her eyes focus on the creator. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Even so. It seems an odd position to take, considering mister creator and his... Friends came here on a Creator Vessel, clearly the work of what Flora believes the Creators call Science, yes?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "And, as Mister Corin points out. There are countless beings whom could benefit from more advancements. The beings barely hanging on in the Shanties, any being struck with the Red Plague or any other disease, essentially condemned to death?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Unless, of course, Mister Creator would prefer to spend their life without any of the inventions the Creators have?"<br> <br>Fetnah leans up to quitely ask the bear beside her. "Is't about us makin' these things? If'n they had the chance ta make this stuff, why can't we? Rather'n try ta stop us, why don't they go an' help us to not ake the same mistakes they did?" She crosses her arms and shivers at some private thought.<br> <br>The young man in the ballgown give Flora a sour look. "You only say that because you've already been infected by the selfishness inherent in ADVANCING CREATOR MAGIC!" he says, "You just don't understand the cost! It is better for the BEINGS of PROMISE to remain pure and free of the evils that come with ADVANCED MAGIC." He points jeeringly at Flora. "It is BEINGS like you who will destroy this WORLD," he says with the unshakeable conviction of a young man out of his parents' sight.<br> <br>Corin doesn't even bother to lower his voice to answer the cheetah, "Because they don't have to LIVE here. They get to go home to their comfy wherever-creators-live and not deal with the undead in Mossy Stone, the starving in the slums, our diseases, or the hostile wildlife. And none of them have ever been outside of Firmament, so they think the whole world is like this." in contrast to his usual, jovial, friendly nature, every word out of Corin's mouth seems to be utterly dripping with disdain. |
Revision as of 00:14, 4 July 2017
Participants
Date
3/7/480
Log
It is hot and sunny in the Fair District today and beings of all sizes and descriptions are going about their business and enjoying the exhibits on display.
Among those visiting the fair today is a rather unusual group. A small knot of Creators wearing clothes that seem to be a (poor) imitation of local styles has basically set up camp in front of the main lecture hall and are waving signs and chanting slogans and shouting at beings as they pass by. Admittedly, it is an utter mystery to most of the beings in attendance.
A little ways away, a miniature rhino dressed in a Creator style jumpsuit is seated alone at a little cafe with a drink in hand, watching the unruly Creators.
And then, there is Flora, dressed in a simple, white robe, emblazoned with the emblem of LongTech Industries, pacing about, her tails flicking behind her as she peers at the protesting creators, before she moves closer to the group.
Her golem besides her, and her two usual guards trailing behind her, she seems confident, in decent spirits, and rather confused about the picketing creators.
Drawn to the increased bustle of people like an insect to a flame, Fetnah fairly dances along through the folk, free with her smile. She stops at exhibits along the way, occasionally peering at them each as if fascinated for a few minutes before moving along to the next. Her nose twitches and is drawn to the occasional pastry shop, but she does not stop there.
Upon noticing the creators, she nearly stumbles over her own feet, coming to a stop. She watches the tableau with attention as the tigress approaches the small knot with her golem and guards.
The Creators are difficult to understand, with the way that they and their strange little translating machine spirits keep shouting over each other. But amidst the irrelevant babble and according to their First Tongue covered picket signs, it becomes apparent that they are, in fact, protesting scholarly progress on Promise.
"Keep PROMISE pure!" a translator device gabbles, with the tell-tale sound that indicates it has paraphrased something. It's owner, a tall, willowy creator, waves his sign around in the air as he shouts. At least, it seems to be male. He has short hair and a masculine appearance, but he is wearing a rather poor simulacrum of a lady's ball gown. Apparently there is still some confusion over gender-appropriate clothing out there among the stars. "SCHOLARS will ruin your world!" he chants, and frowns at Flora's approach, "Nature provides everything we need!"
Even over the responding, affirmative shouts of the other Creators, the loud sigh of the watching rhino sounds.
A very large grizzly bear passes by the peculiar group without giving them a moment's notice, his head dipped in a notebook and a capillary pen in his free paw, with a little clipboard and an inkwell. Then, as though on a delayed timer, he stops, actually walks BACKWARDS, and stares at them, taking in their rhetoric as best he can. Then, in a methodical manner, he slides his pen, nib up, into one of the pouches of his belt, removes his pince-nez and places them on his clipboard, places his paw over his face, and gives a great, big sigh of annoyance.
A raise of the brow, a flick of the tail, and a soft rumble, as Flora coughs, loudly, to get the Creators' attention. "Ahem," she offers, looking over the crowd, and flicking her tail behind her. "Who, exactly, is in charge here?" she asks after a little while, flicking her ears, and looking decidedly displeased.
"Flora would like to speak with them, yes."
Shaking herself out of her shocked stupor, Fetnah begins to maneuver her way closer to the strange cluster and their antics. She glances from the signs, to the creators, to the others that seem to be gathering around as well, then angles in to put herself close enough to clearly hear what is going on.
Noticing a bear about to back over her, she nimbly darts around him, casting a brief look of reproach before stopping next to him as he makes a gesture of frustrated annoyance. Her gaze then drifts around to pick out the other strange stanging off to the side, a rhino in creator clothing.
The loud Creator in the ball gown looks askance at Flora. "We don't have a leader," he says disdainfully, "We stand together as equals against the heartless advance of SCHOLARLY PURSUITS and CREATOR MAGIC!" The other creators all echo the sentiment in agreement. It suddenly becomes apparent that all of these Creators seem to be quite young.
As a curious crowd starts to gather at a respectful distance, the little rhino leaves his drink at his table and tries to weave through the press toward Flora, looking more than a little embarassed.
Corin spots the smaller, spotty being and gives a mumbled apology to her before he glances over at Flora and gives her a wave, mumbling, "None of these..." He mumbles a string of expletives under his breath that would make a longshoreman blush, "...have ever been hungry, have they."
"Right, yes. Flora sees. And Mister Parson is aware of this... Protest, despite Promise being considered largely souvereign until its status with the creators is decided?" the she-cat offers, as her tails flick behind her, and her eyes focus on the creator.
"Even so. It seems an odd position to take, considering mister creator and his... Friends came here on a Creator Vessel, clearly the work of what Flora believes the Creators call Science, yes?"
"And, as Mister Corin points out. There are countless beings whom could benefit from more advancements. The beings barely hanging on in the Shanties, any being struck with the Red Plague or any other disease, essentially condemned to death?"
"Unless, of course, Mister Creator would prefer to spend their life without any of the inventions the Creators have?"
Fetnah leans up to quitely ask the bear beside her. "Is't about us makin' these things? If'n they had the chance ta make this stuff, why can't we? Rather'n try ta stop us, why don't they go an' help us to not ake the same mistakes they did?" She crosses her arms and shivers at some private thought.
The young man in the ballgown give Flora a sour look. "You only say that because you've already been infected by the selfishness inherent in ADVANCING CREATOR MAGIC!" he says, "You just don't understand the cost! It is better for the BEINGS of PROMISE to remain pure and free of the evils that come with ADVANCED MAGIC." He points jeeringly at Flora. "It is BEINGS like you who will destroy this WORLD," he says with the unshakeable conviction of a young man out of his parents' sight.
Corin doesn't even bother to lower his voice to answer the cheetah, "Because they don't have to LIVE here. They get to go home to their comfy wherever-creators-live and not deal with the undead in Mossy Stone, the starving in the slums, our diseases, or the hostile wildlife. And none of them have ever been outside of Firmament, so they think the whole world is like this." in contrast to his usual, jovial, friendly nature, every word out of Corin's mouth seems to be utterly dripping with disdain.