Creator Protest - RPLOG
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.
"Flora can't even -use- magic," the she-cat offers, her tails flicking behind her, her ears twitching. "But, considering mister Creator didn't answer, Flora assumes Mister Parson is not aware?" she gestures one of her two guards over, before sending it off with a detailed set of instructions on exactly what to ask the church to send on her behalf.
"Now, if Mister Creator is convinced about his stance on this, Flora is sure he and his friends would not mind seeing the things Flora mentioned to affirm those thoughts? Flora would even be willing to send a pair of guards along, although Flora cannot guarantee anyone's safety outside the gates of Firmament. Promise is a wild place, yes."
Fetnah nods understanding the perils. "I'm from a crossroads outside the city, an' like ye said, my da and family needs to poison the vermin before they get to our food stores, or we go hungry. Y'have ta watch out goin' to the outhouse at night. Y'sayin' they never have ta do that?" Her gaze travels to the oddly dressed beings. "I dunno much about real creators, but they seem a strange lot. Ev'n if y'get them out there, I dun think it'll change much. They seem ta think like them pampered nobles in the stories, sounds like..."
Some of the Creator youths have the decency to look embarrassed, but it seems that their not-ring-leader is impervious to both concience and logic. "Say what you will!" he says, nose in the air, "But you just don't understand how good you have it! It is just a good thing that we are around to protect you from yourselves!" He raises his picket sign again and starts trying to lead his little band of followers in another chant that just does not seem to translate.
Before things can escalate further, the little rhino finally manages to push his way through the crowd. "I'm sorry about the disturbance, High Lady," the little fellow says in a voice like a thousand, buzzing bees, "I didn't think they could be nearly so noisy!"
"No, Miss Flora has a point. Let's bring them to the shanty town. There, this proselytizing pile of condescending platitudes can explain to one of the people who have nothing that we can't develop any more methods to help them because he knows best." Corin says, placing his pince-nez back on his nose. He corks the inkwell that's built into the little clipboard he uses, closes his notebook with a loud SNAP, and tucks it away into his kit.
Flora flicks her tails behind her, before turning to Fetnah. "The creators probably don't have to do that, no," she offers, as she looks to the rest of the group. "Your 'leader' does not seem to care about the plight of the poorer beings of Promise, yes? He seems to prefer focusing on his goal, rather than accepting an offer to see what Promise's actual problems are."
"Flora is curious, yes. Where do the other Creators here stand on that?" she asks, looking straight past the Creator she was talking with moments before.
Frowning, the cheetah quietly continues to observe the situation, her tail lashing and her ears flat as she crosses her arms. She tenses when the tigress confronts the rest of the group, but also begins looking around as if searching for something, her gaze going from eatery to eatery, a small frown tugging at her muzzle. Fetnah's gaze then returns to the group and she remains quiet, but her head occasional shakes slowly side to side in disagreement.
"You know, Gav," another creator says, possibly a female, though she is wearing a formal, masculine uniform, "We could go see this. . . Shanty Town? Might be more useful than the. . . " she trails off and waggles her sign weakly as the leader, Gav, apparently, turns his frown on her.
All of this seems to greatly distress the little rhino in his strange garb. "No! No! No!" he buzzes frantically, "Pardon the intrusion, Highlady, but I really can't let you take these kids out of the city! Their parents would have my hide!"
THAT, more than Flora's jibes and the pleas of his fellow. . . whatever these strange people are, seems to catch the leader's attention.
Corin seems pleased enough with whatever it is that's happening, and sits back to let whatever's happening take its course, "I think Miss Flora has this well in hand." He says to the cheetah with his first little smile since this whole debacle started.
"There is no need to leave the city immediately. The eastern wall provides a decent vantage-point of the shanties, although it won't have the same impact, no. If the group wants to head outside after that, there are the farms to the west, as well, which are relatively safe, yes."
"If they wish to venture further out, Flora is sure they can send word home for permission, yes?"
Fetnah continues to frown, then takes a few tentative steps forward. "Um, M'lady. Would it be wise ta do so? The ones in the shanty town might be tempted ta cut their throats for some of their pretty clothes, even if'n they are creators, maybe be hopin' for an artifiact ev'n." With a few more steps she draws up nearer the creators, giving them a shy smile, before glancing back at Flora. "Maybe... Arm them so they c'n defend themselves?" She looks at one of the various young creators. "Y'can handle a knife ta defend yerself from a hungry chid, right? Those what are diseased can barely put up a fight. Or maybe use a bow to fight off a hungry beast think'n you are a spot of food? How d'ye defend yerselves on a normal day?"
"I don't see that I need anyone's permission to prove my point!" the ballgown clad Creator says, looking down his nose at the small rhino, "Least of all to an RY-N-Zero unit produced by the UNREGULATED TRADE system!" He turns to look over his shoulder at his fellow Creators, a group of ten all told. "Let's just see what this BEING wants to show us, then," he says, "You'll see, it is all a product of rampant CREATOR MAGIC." It is apparent that he is saying something else, but his translator device, hovering just over his shoulder, is doing its best to paraphrase.
Fetnah's words are met by horrified silence. "Protect ourselves from what?" the girl in the uniform asks with a frown, "DIETY, why would someone- what kind of place are you taking us? This wasn't in the brochure at all, Gav!"
The rhino takes a risk and reaches out to tug of Flora's sleeve. "Beg pardon, Highlady," he drones, "But when I say they will have my hide, I ain't exactly exaggerating. . . "
Corin shrugs and adjusts his waistcoat, glancing over at the uniformed creator, "You remember that hostile wildlife I mentioned? That. As to why they'd rob you? Because they have no money, and little food, and a bit of creator tech will feed them for a month." he scratches his chin, giving it a moment's thought, "Perhaps more, depending on who'd be buying."
