SWEET FORGIVENESS, YOU HELP ME SEE

[maskormods]

WHO: imPorts!
WHERE: The vandalism occurs across all four Porter Cities; the ceremony takes place in Nonah's Community Centre.
WHEN: August 23 - 29
WHAT: As the repercussions of the Clone Invasion continues to ripple across the Porter Cities, tensions rise and burst out in the form of crude vandalism and outcries. In an effort to acknowledge the points on both sides, the Days of Forgiveness are hosted in order to allow everyone's voices to be heard. Please feel free to use this post for all in-person reactions to the vandalism in addition to the Days of Forgiveness!
WARNINGS: Mentions of death & violence.



VANDALS & SCANDALS

From August 23-27, imPorts will find a certain tension in the air, even after everything they've done to help - no matter how much imPorts try, the things and people that the citizens of this world have lost cannot be brought back, and some members of the public feel this pain more keenly than others but have no place to express it. Grief and loss turn to rage with great quickness and potency, and the amount of people willing to defend imPorts only stokes this flame ever higher.

Maybe these particular imPorts had nothing to do with the going-ons of the past few weeks. Maybe they're helpful, or maybe they're murderers, or maybe they're just ordinary people trying to live ordinary lives, but the fact that they're imPorts puts a target right on their foreheads, and these people have no better place to direct their ire.

In workplaces, imPorts may find their windows smashed, supplies damaged or stolen, with graffitti spread messily across the walls. To their employers, there may be a scrawled: IMPORT WORSHIPPER or TRAITOR, or STOP HOUSING MURDERERS. To the imPorts themselves, there may be graffitti decrying them: IMPORTS GO HOME or NOT OUR HEROES.

Should imPorts live in government housing, there's much of the same graffitti, although eerily, some may be a little more on-point, addressing things they've heard in the news or through the grapevine. ALIEN, some will say, MURDERER, FREAK, CANNIBAL, or even COMPLICIT. Or perhaps they'll find something else - it all depends on what poor soul it is that lives there. The vandalism starts off slowly, but as reports on it gets more attention, despite the fact that it is often criticized, the vandals are emboldened and begin to strike out more and more frequently.

Should any individual be caught in the act, they'll have a similar story: friends and family dead and gone, daughters and sons, mothers and fathers, best friends and co-workers, nieces and nephews, aunts and uncles. Perhaps the job they've laboured their whole life at vanished in a flood or a fire, or perhaps their family home of decades fell to ruin. It does not excuse their actions in the least, but the fact remains that while they are angry, they're just as apt to cry as they are to scream.

While these acts may be jarring to those on the receiving end of them, it's important to note that they do not necessarily reflect the majority; for every person that lashes out, there's another willing to lend a helping hand. ImPorts are, after all, among one of the most divisive topics in American society today.

DAYS OF FORGIVENESS

Eventually, elected officials decide that speaking out against the misguided backlash is not enough, and they decide to host the Days of Forgiveness in Nonah on August 28-29. Here, they will address these issues head-on, hoping to speak directly to all people in order to try to diffuse tensions and give imPorts and natives alike the chance to speak their piece.

The occasion itself is sparser than usual - a buffet is provided, as are plenty of long benches and tables for citizens and imPorts alike to sit at. At the back, there are two large bulletin boards, each with an opportunity to put up notes: one, to address the good acts and charity of imPorts towards the citizenry and the good acts and charity of citizens towards imPorts; and the second to address grievances. Directly in front of that is a series of two-person tables, allowing imPorts and civilians to speak face-to-face; to discuss what has happened; to understand, and to forgive. ImPorts are also encouraged to speak to one another - after all, imPorts are often the ones to bear the brunt of the attacks done by other imPorts.

At the back of the room are imPort historians, individuals who have written entire thesises on the brief history of imPorts, and their effects on this world, whether it be technological ("our technology, it's accelerated in a way that we haven't seen since the industrial era!"), historical ("we don't know how the Cold War would have gone without imPort interference, and so much of what has happened is because of imPorts directly - without them, we would be living in a much different world, but would it be a better one, or a worse one?), or sociological ("now we know the true meaning of superhuman - what does that make the rest of us? What is our place in this world?"). They'll be enthusiastic to discuss how the world has changed with anyone who wishes to speak with them, and will otherwise be playing silent, captioned clips of news reports on imPorts on repeat.

First, however, comes a federal official, hair cut into a neat bob and wearing a neatly pressed shirt and trousers, glasses worn high on her nose.

"Ladies and gentlemen. We have experienced terrible, terrible loss, not only because of the attack of these terrible clones, but in the past few years. We live in tumultuous times. To those who have lost their homes, to those who have lost their friends and family, we can only give you our deepest sympathies, and ask that you come to us to ask for assistance. We will provide it, and we will protect our citizens, we can guarantee that.

But these acts of vandalism, these hate-crimes, they cannot go on. ImPorts, what has happened to you is an unspeakable violation. You are not the perpetrators here - quite the contrary, you are the victims of these horrible crimes, and we cannot overstate our pride in your conduct, in your willingness to help during the attacks, help during the re-building process, and yes, help to secure those responsible for these terrible crimes. Thanks to the assistance of an anonymous group of imPorts, we have identified the culprits as none other but the conglomerate Heavens Scent. We are not at liberty to divulge every action we will be taking against them, but rest assured, their products will be pulled from the shelves and each of their facilities will be shut down.

Would that things were that simple. We recognize that while imPort contributions to our society far outweigh the ills, there are a number among their ranks responsible for terrible crimes, and we would be remiss to simply sweep these instances under the rug, to forget those who have lost their lives and homes, their livelihoods and loved ones. We do not ask for you to forget this: we simply ask for the imPorts and citizens alike to forgive, and we believe in your capacity to do so."

She offers the crowd a thin smile.

"Now, I am certain you've heard enough of my voice by now. With that, I would like to take this time to once again thank the brave men, women and imPorts who have contributed to our rebuilding efforts and in helping the people of America, and I will turn the stage over to you, the people. Thank you."

People come on and off of the stage quickly, and despite the government presence at this event, it's officially run by the Historic Society of Heropa, who vets what will be spoken about prior to taking the stage. Should anyone seem to incite violence or take advantage of the stage for personal gain, they will be firmly escorted off-stage and away from the event. Luckily, on the side of the citizens, there are very few cases of this.

Here is but a sampling of the speeches that will be given:

There is one woman, thin and nervous, voice thick with a Bulgarian accent who goes on a brief tangent on how difficult it was to immigrate to America before saying, "One reason I am here - why I can be here, is that in... the bombs, an import came to me. An alien. Pale skin, horns. My daughter did not lose a mother. ImPorts here have done... bad things. But good, too. I am grateful. My home, flooded, but they save lives."

Another is a young man, eyes red and puffy, voice hoarse. "Two years ago, I lost my father to the fear gas. It was on the news. It was a - it was a horrible way to die, and I miss him every day. God, I do. And then, last month, the zombies - I couldn't watch the news. I couldn't look, in case he was there, with them. It's not enough to have our family killed, but to have their corpses desecrated, and then - then you say that you do not have enough, after all that we've lost? How are we to go on like this?"

Another is an elderly man, shoulders hunched and stooped, struggling to get on-stage. "I was there too, when the fear gas hit. Horrible. Horrible. But the young lady - the one with dark hair, and the bells, she was there. I was dying, and so was my little grandson, and with a word - we weren't. They are not all bad. The acts of the few do not erase the good they've done. We've lost, yes. But we've gained too. I forgive them for what I've lost. I hope you do too."

Another is a young woman with a prosthetic leg, stepping up to the stage with ease taking a deep breath before speaking. "I don't know what to think. They are capable of so much, and we are capable of so little. Even when it is not their fault, the damage caused - it is immense. I can't walk like I used to, not after being attacked by - goddamn blobs, for what, a science experiment? But later, in Philadelphia, where I thought he was safe from all of this mess, my Dad was saved during the earthquakes by some imPort that - I don't know, he said he summoned something? He's not dead, and neither am I. Maybe they're not so good, maybe they're not so bad. They're just people. But I forgive them for what happened. I really do."

And so it goes. Won't you come and share your voice as well?

Comments

[ghoulking]

VANDALS & SCANDALS || :Re Café

[ Kaneki got a call from one of his friends back at the police station. Apparently they were called to Kaneki's coffee shop and when they arrived, everything was a mess; since one of the officers knew Kaneki personally from when he worked at the Heropa Police Department, he was kind enough to want to handle this situation personally but kaneki didn't want to make much noise out of it. He doesn't demand for help and instead he tells them to drop the whole case and not to worry, to instead focus on other issues currently happening. The police left after some insistence, but kaneki ended up not filling any report and told them to let it go.

When clients or workers start arriving at the coffee shop around 4pm (when it usually opens), they'll see a sign saying "CLOSED" (again...). The front window is partially broken and, painted in red to the side, the words "CANNIBAL" and "FREAK" and "MONSTER" as well "BLOOD SUCKER" can be read. Inside the shop, everything is upside down. All the many trinkets are on the floor, broken and thrown around, some chairs and tables have been carved by the kitchen knives, and even the poor deer head wasn't spared (someone covered it in red paint to symbolize blood). Someone attempted to enter the private area, but because the it had a special electronic lock that would take too long to break, they didn't get inside, and instead, they left words written on the door, this time "MURDER HOUSE" and "PEOPLE EATER". many of the books were ripped apart too or painted with red, and that's probably the saddest thing for Kaneki since some of these have been gifts by imports who are no longer there.

Kaneki can be found inside, grabbing all the trinkets and placing the broken ones inside bags, while the ones he could salvage inside a box. he has been trying to clean up since morning, so he is all sweaty and dirty from the red paint splattered around. be careful when going inside, don't step on any broken glass! ]

DAYS OF FORGIVENESS

[ kaneki came to this for the very same reason why he always comes to Swear-Ins and alike: these are perfect targets. kaneki doesn't trust that a place where many imPorts can be found won't be attacked. So kaneki is there in case something goes south, in case he needs to help, and that's it.

He isn't there to talk, he doesn't need people to apologize to him and ask him to forgive them because he already has. In fact, kaneki never really blamed them for anything; they were just reacting to an insane situation with (sometimes insane) people from places they don't even dream of. kaneki has never once blamed the natives for anything, and he doesn't think they are wrong for reacting the way they did.

As for apologizing to the natives, everything Kaneki did wrong before that had hurt natives (like when yuri tried to kill him and he went berserk), Ken already did apologize to them directly and to this day he still does. He doesn't have much to apologize for. Or perhaps, he just has so many things to apologize, that he can't even begin to say it out loud. "Sorry for being what I am, sorry for having to eat what i do, sorry I exist", those are things kaneki thinks and feels deeply from the bottom of his heart, but he can't say those outloud, either.

So he will just stay behind, quietly watching. If he is needed, he is around, but he is only there in case he is needed indeed. ]

Café

[am_i_a_monster]

[Abigail had been sent home from her own job early, due to an act of vandalism. Home was the last place she wanted to be. She knew she would have hidden in her room, surrounded by her own self pity. For once, she believed she truly was innocent. She hadn't asked to be an import and hadn't hurt anyone in this world. This was supposed to be her second chance, a new life to replace the one she lost. And now people who didn't even know her, wanted her to leave - which meant she'd be dead. It sucked.

She'd gone to Nonah looking for a change and instead she saw even more graffiti. This was even worse than what had been done at her workplace. She stared in shock at the word cannibals. It was an eerie reminder of her past. After her parents died, someone had sprayed painted the word cannibals on her home in large letters, close to the spot where her mother died. For several minutes, she felt trapped in that memory of her old life and tears formed in her eyes. It was only when she heard the someone inside that she focused back on the present.

She peeked in the broken window, and saw Kaneki hard at work, cleaning up. She shouldn't be the one crying when she didn't even work there. She blinked rapidly, trying to clear away the tears and called out.]

"Hey, in there! Are you okay?"

café

[crimeboy]

[Akira was saddened, but unsurprised to see this place in such disarray when he arrived. He'd seen it from a way off, but hadn't turned to leave. It stung a little, knowing Kaneki, and knowing how the place was supposed to a safe place for non-humans who had to consume human... flesh or blood. Still weird to him, but he couldn't bring himself to feel anything more than a little grossed out from time to time, thinking of eating people.

And seeing this, he felt for Kaneki, truly.

Quietly, Akira looked the building over. Those who perpetrated the vandalism were hardly expert criminals. He could track them down, but what was more important now was showing solidarity, so he just started cleaning as well, starting at the window. The glass needed to be taken out of the frame and swept up off of the floor so that it wasn't a danger to anyone passing.]

Hey, Boss. It's just me. Need me to run and grab a broom or anything?

[He figured he'd alert Kaneki as he started making some noise, just so that he didn't get too jumpy or anything.]

cafe;

[itssacrifice]

[Unsurprisingly, as soon as the news of the vandalism broke out, everyone at Nonah News was bombarded with information to report on, some of which came sporadically throughout the day earning the news special breaking news spots on multiple channels. Even as the weather man, Andrew wasn't untouched by it, and had to stand in for one of their anchors who had called in sick that day. Needless to say, his time at the news station was extended and he wasn't able to get away until almost three forty-five.

He heads for re:Cafe immediately, not caring that he's still dressed in his suit and tie. Despite having heard of some of the damages, seeing the cafe in such a destroyed state hits him hard. It had been one of the first places he had truly felt welcome after arriving in the city and the damage done to it feels like an attack against him.

Heading inside, he steps around gingerly, trying to avoid stepping on the trinkets and remnants of tables and chairs as he moves further in. It doesn't take him long to find who he's looking for. Kaneki is a mess, covered in a mixture of dirt, sweat, and paint. It's immediately clear to Andrew that he's been cleaning up all on his own.]

Why didn't you call anyone? [He grumbles even as he pushes up his shirt sleeves and starts picking up trinkets and books and tossing them into the bags.] You shouldn't be in here alone. It would be just like an idiot mob to come back and try to harass you while you're without back-up.

[d33tached]

[It isn't until a little after 4pm that D33 arrives for his shift - late is very much not his style, and he's feeling a bit frantic as he approaches the building - of course, when he notices the state that it's in, as well as the "closed" sign hanging on the front door, that anxiety fades into bewildered fascination. Of course he's going to take a step through the door, more out of curiosity than anything, but when he notices Kaneki inside cleaning up, something close to...concern(?) surfaces and he pauses in the door way.]

Kaneki.

[A stiff greeting. He'd noted the words outside as well as the one's he is now seeing painted at the entry way of the private area - "cannibal", "people eater", "blood sucker". Kaneki had been up front with D33 about his eating habits since their very first conversation. But he had also made note of the government providing him with the necessary supplements so as to avoid a situation such as this. He looks a bit baffled. Had he been a kinder man, perhaps he would look a bit sympathetic as well. He surprises himself with the next words that come out of his mouth.]

Are you alright?

Cafe

[dejerate]

[Bloodsucker. Well. They're not wrong. Yuu himself called vampires that, among other names before he was turned himself. But it's another thing, like a punch in the gut to see it among the other names scrawled on the cafe like that.

After coming across this, of course he enters to check on Kaneki. He doesn't mind so much on the broken glass since he's wearing his boots but even so he tries to not make more of a mess, crouching to pick up some bigger pieces as he makes his way to Kaneki.]

Jerks, huh? But you're okay, right? I can help clean up.

slides in late with days of forgiveness!

[eloquentness]

[ Iris, on the other hand, has never been content with staying in the shadows. She's spent most of the day handing out bright daffodils from the shop - literal symbols of forgiveness. At the very end, though, she can't quite help noticing that she's got one single yellow flower left - and a guy who looks like he could use one.

So she heads over, holding it out as an olive branch, ] Daffodil for your thoughts?

[damasks]

i. vandals & scandals ( de chima )

[Lucy has been hyping herself up for work today since she woke up. Today, she's vowed, she will go her entire shift with only one mistake. Her boss has been very supportive, and she didn't cry last shift at all, which means that this shift it's perfectly feasible that she won't cry or make more than one mistake.]

[Except then she turns the corner and sees TRAITOR scrawled on the window and bursts into tears. So much for that.]

[Mostly she was confused rather than afraid. Words are just words; she's been hurt worse. What she doesn't understand is why here, why now? The conflict is too vast for her to have wrapped her head around in a few weeks. Her boss takes her aside and explains it as best she can, and that does help--but it also leads Lucy to square her shoulders and insist that she leave, to draw this ire away from a good business. She's expressly forbidden from doing so, fortunately, but in the end her boss does acquiesce to letting her scrub the graffiti off the front window.]

[This is how Lucy can be found in the mid-morning hours outside Get the Scoop!, perched on a stepladder with her hair tied away from her face, eyes red and puffy from crying but filled with Determination. At the sight of prospective customers, she pauses in her scrubbing and waves with her paint-stained rag. Gotta be as friendly as possible to keep customers coming in.]

Hello there, welcome to Get the Scoop! Please be careful, I spilled some soapy water down there so don't trip! [!!!!!!!]

ii. day of forgiveness

[She doesn't come to the Day of Forgiveness to be forgiven, because as yet she hasn't done anything wrong. Not here, anyway. When she got back to her apartment in De Chima today, the word MURDERER was painted across her door, and that's . . . honestly, it didn't bother her much. It's true, after all.]

[Here, though, is a place where she can get a little bit more perspective. In this room, there are people speaking their pain, and she wants to be here so she can understand where it comes from and how it manifests. It's a much more calculated tactic than it appears to be, because while she's sympathetic to the difficulty of living in such a tumultuous time, more than anything she wants to understand what kind of danger she's in.]

[That doesn't mean she isn't moved by the speeches, though. It's the anger that moves her more than the forgiveness--those are open wounds that have yet to even start healing. That people are picking open barely-scabbed gouges in their hearts for this common moment means a great deal, even if what it means isn't at all straightforward. There are a couple of times she cries a little, silently, when emotion is high.]

[Once this part of the ceremony is over, she wipes her eyes and goes to sit at one of the two-person tables. She's quiet and still, waiting. Someone will sit with her or they won't. She'll wait for whatever happens, or doesn't.]

i! LET'S GET THIS CR A-ROLLIN

[burlyboy]

[ Magnus has no idea what Get The Scoop! is, but he only spares a glance at the sign before his eyes hone in on the kid perched on a stepladder, eyes clearly puffy and red from crying. He got hit by graffitti too, but that's fine; it's nothing that isn't God's honest truth. But a kid? That really gets his blood boiling. You can't pick on the people who can't fight back, after all.

Instead of heeding Lucy's warning, he stands squarely on the soapy puddle, brows knotted together with concern and ire alike. ]

They're really getting around. [ Well, nothing to do about that. He bends over the bucket, grabs a rag, and goes to stand next to her. He doesn't need a stepladder, not with his height, and it's easy for him to get scrubbing. ]

You be careful too. That stepladder's traction won't be worth beans once the ground gets soapy enough.

[drivesadesk]

Vandals and Scandals | Heropa

Their housing had been vandalized. Windows had been broken, and the words 'alien' and 'freak' had been sprayed onto the house in large, bright letters that were impossible to miss from the street. Jonathan went inside, and after going online to order some new windows, came back out with a sponge and a bucket of soapy water and started cleaning. Since this increased aggression, Jonathan had decided to try and keep a lower profile. He was going out less, avoiding advertising that he was an import, and where before he'd try to flash his winning smile at everyone, now when he went out he generally tried to avoid being noticed, and went somewhere more secluded to go jogging.

For now, though, he'd just try to get those words off his home. Starting with the word 'freak', since the whole 'alien' thing was just a fact, and a well known one at that.

Day of Forgiveness

Jonathan didn't really feel like any of the animosity toward imPorts was his fault. He hadn't gotten caught up in super powered battles. He hadn't broken any laws. He did have a clone, but since he hadn't even given a dna sample voluntarily, it wasn't like he could be blamed for that. So no, he didn't really feel like he needed to be forgiven, even if he did understand why people were angry.

However, he did feel the need to assess how angry they were, and how long he should try hiding under a rock for, and that was why he was there. He listens to the speeches, looking around to gauge how people are receiving that, and when there is no one to listen to he either reads the bulletin boards or sits at one of the two person tables. If he's going to assess the situation here, he might as well have a one on one discussion with some of these people.

[incogneto]

Erik is walking to work when he sees it, and passes by Jonathan's house from having taken a few side streets to get around the mess.

He frowns when he sees Jonathan, and lifts over a bucket of water that someone's left out, probably from washing away their own paint.

"Hey," he says. "Need help?"

[candor1]

Vandals and Scandals

There's nothing quite like a security droid to discourage vandalism to the place it's guarding. Though part of Cassian wants to know if they would be spared on their own, because of the loyalty they have from their students and their families, and the honorary protection they seem to have gained from some of the gangs, who saw or spread the word about Cassian taking a laser to the skull for their own. But probably not. It's not about merit or realistic attribution. It's about hating helplessness. In the face of a vast reality, doing something rather than nothing. Even if that something is useless or worse.

Since Neojedha is fairly well in hand, Cassian goes to help the local neighbors who are either getting targeted or caught in the crossfire. He's getting a lot of field practice on his shielding ability and is able to make them increase in size. (Damn it would have been handy in his old line of work. On the other hand, it would have probably gotten him taken down by the antiJedi factions.) But he's also just lending non-powered help, fixing windows and repainting doors.

As usual, he's focusing more on the vulnerable, the non-powered, the non-imPorts. But when it is an imPort getting hit, he won't turn away.

Day of Forgiveness

Though noting every new person who takes the stage, and listening attentively to some, he stays near the back of the room. He's doing his usual good job of blending in with the furniture. He's also staying near the Historians, to split his attention to them. Mostly he's listening in on what they discuss with others. Very occasionally he slips in to an exchange to ask further questions.

For the most part he's just trying to get the measure of the community. Because he finds it insufficient to care about it without getting involved at all, reticent as he is to seek too much involvement and slip into old life-sacrificing habits. Because he's hunting for someone he knows nothing about so just absorbing everything is the starting place. Because this is a worthwhile premise and he's curious to see if it pans out better than he'd normally assume. Some locals know him and come over to talk. But it's easy to catch him alone.

[crimeboy]

Days of Forgiveness

Akira didn't do stages, really. He only really made a spectacle of himself to keep the heat off of others, or when he was in a mask. Right now, none of the requirements were fulfilled for Akira to get up on stage and share any stories or talk to anyone about this whole ordeal. Besides, he wasn't qualified for any such talks.

That didn't mean he was only here for the food, however, sitting in and listening intently to the grievances, apologies, and the forgiving. Akira took a seat, looking pensive and managing not to emote much, hiding behind his large glasses as he listened. It was a very complex set of problems that this country, this world faced.

Eventually, Akira makes his way over to the buffet... and then passes it over, feeling a little sick, and having lost his appetite anyway. He keeps nearby those tables, eyeing them, but not quite taking a seat. He still felt so woefully unprepared for anything like this. After the vandalism at the coffee shop, and all of the messes he saw all over the place, including his home and others nearby, he'd fully expected it to be ignored. Society would forget, and continue as it had. He wasn't sure this would change it.

Eventually, all the weariness catches up with him and he does take that seat. "So", he starts, no matter who it is in the seat opposite of him. "What do you think needs to happen for this kind of thing to stop?" While this forgiveness stuff was all well and good, it didn't mean that people were not still angry, that some did not forgive, both native and imPort alike. A solution was necessary.

[lempereur]

Yusuke is frustrated. The vandals earlier that week had come for his mural, something that was supposed to be symbolic of the goodness in the imPort community, the humanity. He didn't want to be worshiped or fawned over or bombarded with questions about his personal life from strangers, any more than he wanted to be hated for something that was out of his control.

The stories resonate with him. The artist is touched by the emotions on display, complex and consuming and difficult to verbalize, the same overwhelming power of feeling that he is so frequently afflicted with. He is so determined to hear every single one of their stories that he doesn't even touch the buffet line, despite never being in a position to turn down free food. It isn't until a woman gets on stage to tell a story about her son being rescued by "one of those ice skaters that are always in the tabloids and some boy in a mask" that Yusuke visibly reacts, his eyes cast toward the ground with a gentle smile.

To run into Akira here is...fitting. Poetic, maybe, and if he weren't so focused on the woman's story he might have thought that Futaba put him up to it, but he isn't bothered to see him. It's been about three weeks, it's time.

"I do not believe it will stop, at least not until the Porter stops bringing new people here," he answers, indulging in the small talk, before a pause. And then: "How are you?"

[wearmyface]

VANDALS & SCANDALS (Heropa)

[If it's one thing Vos is used to, it's having a target on him. Because he's a Decepticon, because he's Cybertronian. Many, many reasons. Though the DJD isn't, typically, part of that. But, just because he's used to it, doesn't mean he likes it. Doesn't mean arriving at work to IMPORT GO HOME graffiti scrawled across the hovercar mechanic shop is pleasant, either. Just because he's trying to keep a low profile doesn't mean he'll sit back and let this happen. He happens to like this work (and Heropa in general) well enough; sure, it's not the DJD, but it's interesting.

Some of the other graffiti that shows up includes MURDERER, ALIEN FREAK, and TRAITOR.]

Even here. Nice to know, but I am innocent.

[He's not even shocked; but he is innocent. Of these crimes, at least. Either way, he gets to work scrubbing it off, though for the first time since arriving, Vos is openly carrying his rifle. There's a makeshift strap that slings the gun over a shoulder as he works to clean up the damage to the shop. He's not afraid to take aim at the first hint of trouble, but he won't shoot.

Of course, if it looks like you've come to help the clean up-] You here to help?


[The nights of the 25th and 26th will see him outside the shop, openly in robot mode for at least five and half hours each night. He's just sitting there, watching, waiting. Talking (well, texting) anyone who decides he needs company on his apparent guard duty.

By noon of the 28th, Vos has vanished to parts unknown.]

(OOC: Do not track Vos down here. If you want that, hit me up on dark_fenix. I am very open to killing Vos, but it'd have to be in a group and in its own log.)

[itcanwait]

[Tailgate had been on the way to work, which happened to be close by the hovercar mechanic shop. Which he would learn soon enough was not a good thing. He'd seen the post on the network, he's seen Riptide and spoken to him, so when Tailgate saw the woman and heard her, he stopped.

The heart in his chest was racing as he stared. This was Vos. This was Vos from the DJD. This was Vos who at this moment was human and he could just turn back into his normal form and punch him for 4 blocks. His eyes were wide and he seemed to be frozen. Appearing like a little girl.]

Liar. [There was hatred in the girls voice.]

ota

[cleptes]

(VANDALS AND SCANDALS: MAURTIA FALLS)

On the morning of the 24th Bela begins her normal routine as always before heading out to work. She grabs a quick to go cup of tea from the local coffee shop and goes down the familiar route to her antique shop. Thursdays could either be very slow or fast paced, it depended on the time of year. Summer was usually a steady period which meant that she had time to prepare for the Autumn and Winter months, when people were looking for a gift for birthdays, and more importantly, Christmas.

When Bela arrives at the shop she takes out her keys as normal, ready to open. She looks up, mouth dropping open in shock. The takeaway cup in her hand falls to the ground, the contents emptying and leaving only dribbles in the partially squished container.

The windows are all smashed in, bits of glass strewn on the ground and inside the shop itself. Someone has even taken the time to partially spray the shop sign with an "Imports Go Home". Bela gingerly steps around the broken glass only to find that the front door was busted open - she was afraid to see what the damage was like inside.

Some of the cabinets were knocked over, the glass fronts broken. God only knows if the objects inside were broken too. Graffiti was all along the back of the shop, but Bela couldn’t make out what it said - probably along the same lines of garbage that was on the front sign. She moved to the cash counter which was thankfully still intact. There was no money to take anyway, Bela made sure to lock it away securely in a high tech safe. Thank heavens for small mercies.

Bela moves back into the middle of the shop and looks around, not knowing where to begin. After a few moments of blank staring she feels overwhelmed, her lip trembling. She presses her fingernails hard into the palms of her hands and wills herself not to cry. The last thing that Bela wanted to do was to have a break down in the middle of her shop.

Except she does.

Anyone who may come across Bela will find her openly sobbing, face blotched with tears. She managed to find something to sit on in order to avoid the broken glass on the floor. There was no telling how long it'll last but it was better for her to get her feelings out.


25th-27th:

The next few days are spent cleaning up the mess that the vandals had made. During that time Bela tried to organise replacement windows and a better security system, new cabinets and shelves. She'll probably have to arrange for someone to come and paint over the graffiti, as well as get a new shop sign fitted.

She felt like she was back at square one again when she first started putting the shop together. Bela struggled to understand why someone would do this to a reputable business - but maybe the anti-imPort sentiment had grown so much that they were willing to destroy their livelihoods.

Bela knew that she would get over this hurdle, like anything difficult in her life. It just might not be possible on her own.

On the evening of the 27th Bela decided to drown her sorrows at the local dive bar. Not the wisest of decisions perhaps, but she was feeling quite emotional - mostly anger. Partly despair. She hated feeling like that.

Getting really drunk sounded good right now.

[failedparenting]

Bela's shop is, uncomfortably, on the way to John's work. Every morning and night, he has to walk past it knowing what he knows and knowing that she knows what he knows. It's weird, but at least it's not violent. And so far he's been lucky not to catch sight of her in the window, so that's nice.

This morning, though, instead of seeing the storefront he sees a mess of broken glass and some spray painted graffiti that seems more pathetic than anything else. Though he deals more in violence and vengeance than comfort, he doesn't even think twice before he enters the shop to look for Bela. She may be a fucking thief and profiteer, but she doesn't deserve this. And, of course, she's the only one from home. A common thread in a foreign land goes a long way.

"Talbot? You in here?"

[exceptionalthief]

VANDALS & SCANDALS (Nonah #001)

Given the news reports of late, Hans probably shouldn't be too surprised to come back to his residence after a late evening work shift to find that someone had done a very thorough job of vandalizing the place; windows all broken, furniture in disarray or smashed completely, the walls very colorfully decorated with anti-imPort epithets. He hasn't been there long enough to acquire too many personal belongings, so any destruction in that respect isn't too devastating. Thankfully his notebook is untouched in its hiding place—score a point for secretive habits.

Despite Hans being the only person living there at the moment, all the other rooms suffered equal damage, rendering the place fairly unlivable until repairs could be made—but don't look at him in that respect, his only comment to reporters being: "I am not cleaning this up."

DAYS OF FORGIVENESS

He attends the 'Forgiveness' event, not so much because he has any interest in mending relations between natives and imPorts, but more for any information that might be forthcoming, be it specifically about the tensions or just in general, and whether the government is offering any reparation for the loss of his many expensive personal items.

He also listens with interest to the speeches recounting past tribulations, calamities and attacks, questioning some of the speakers afterwards. Fear gas... you don't say.

MAURTIA FALLS 003

[burlyboy]

[ Magnus is just coming back home when he sees that their house has been a victim of graffitti as well. It's in big, blocky letters, right across the entire front of their house:

MURDERER. ]

Oh, boy.

[ Magnus just stares at it for a second, a hand rising up to rub idly at the back of his head. He doesn't look bothered so much as he looks surprised, but really, he can't get all that angry about this one. It's not as though it's inaccurate. He super did kill a bunch of dudes. I killed some boys, he had told the nurse, happily inebriated on a cocktail of drugs, and she had patted his hand as if to say yes, dear. Chickens home to roost, he supposes. You can kill dudes with an axe without someone taking issue with it.

He shrugs. ]

Eh.

[ ooc: this is predominantly for housemates, but if your character would be visiting/nearby, feel free to have them drop by to be a looky-loo! ]

[shittywizard]

[ Taako's also standing in the front yard, eyeing it up when Magnus approaches. ]

So, do you think this is like, about something specific, or more just a general statement of fact?

[quickfingers]

VANDALS & SCANDALS
.the clean up

[Things were going too well for too long, it was just a matter of time before something happened to upset the balance. It's just funny it happened so soon after Peter finally thinking this place was different from home when it came to accepting someone that deviates from the norm. But all it took was a little spray paint and a broken window at work to remind him that he - mutant or ImPort - still didn't fit in. But worse yet, other people were caught in the crossfires.

Rather than delivering pizzas today (or taking the day off like his boss suggested,) Peter's got a wire brush in hand as he faces off against the words 'FIRE THE FREAKS' that are scrawled across the building's brick work. The window still needs replacing and the shop's closed for a day at least to clean up, but he's trying to figure out the best way of getting off some of the paint in the meanwhile.

Eventually he'll give up, once the words are a little faded and his hands feel numb enough. Then he'll be having a go at the wall himself with a marker to turn what's remains into a more confusingly neutral: 'FIRE THE BREADS'.]

DAYS OF FORGIVENESS

.the board

[Peter for once has little appetite for free food. There's something about the air here that gets to him, something about the tension that keeps his stomach feeling knotted. He came to see what was up, what could be done about the shit that's gone down. But he finds himself facing a bulletin board reading off some of the notes, caught between faint curiosity and annoyance.

This is hitting close to home and reading the word ImPort doesn't seem any different than seeing mutant in its place. Suddenly he's watching television with his sister in his lap, seeing history be made on the actions of only a few individuals. Individuals whose actions shaped opinions that drew on into the next decade of history, splitting a divide between humans and mutants. He can see that happening here again and it's...

He's not sure what it is. He's not sure how he feels about any of this.]

.the exit

[Peter didn't plan to stick around too long into this whole thing, because despite his interest in potential conflict resolution he doesn't feel the type to reach out and get personally involved. He's new, barely got his feet on the ground, what's he going to say to a local? 'Sorry something happened I wasn't around for'? So instead he lingers in the back, listening with the brim of his hat tilted down over his eyes and his arms folded across his chest. Quiet, observing and devoid of the usual humor.

There's just something about the official speaking that doesn't resonate with him. Something feels... thin and maybe he's still affected by the events of the preceding days but it feels like a lot of hot air. He's not convinced there'll be any change until he sees it. This doesn't disappear overnight.

So before she finishes her heartfelt speech and others get up to speak, Peter pushes off of the wall and leaves. Maybe he's headed home or maybe he's just going to linger outside of the area but he needs a breather. You know something's wrong when the earbuds are in and the music ain't playing.]

riptide / ota

[knaval]

a. forgiveness...?

A loud crash interrupts part of the ceremony; Riptide dumps down part of a wall he'd ripped up with MURDERER scrawled across it. Not quite in the middle of the area, but enough to gather some attention. He's in his robot mode - 32ft tall and definitely noticable.

"You think words are gonna fix this?! This is the exact same path every single stupid planet I've ever been to has gone down, only we're not even here by choice!"

Riptide isn't even yelling at anyone in particular, he's just sick of it all.

"Take your garbage back, you idiots. You can't even keep your own worthless planet from falling into a war and you think this is the answer?! I'm not forgiving slag! Fuck all of you!"

Someone might need to calm him down; he's still salty from the last few weeks and the reaction to his warning about Vos.

b. wildcard

[u kno what 2 do]

[glowsferatu]

Kanaya hauls up to her full height, which, being nearly a whole sixth of his, isn't quite as intimidating as she wants, and puts her hands on her hips.

"Sit! Down!"

✦ open

[divaricate]

( ooc: if you'd prefer to respond in brackets, feel free to do the thing; I'm not picky. )

---

⇄ vandals & scandals ⇄ (De Chima)

It's not until the 25th that Wanda goes into work -- early in the morning, as usual -- and, very unusually, finds it a mess. Shattered windows, overturned tables and chairs, spray paint to clean off, et cetera. She's surprisingly quiet when she sees the mess -- while she is frustrated by this scene, there's no visible reaction like loud cursing, or frustrated tears, because that seems like the reaction that this was supposed to elicit -- just a somehow oddly stoic looking expression as red wisps encircle the chairs and tables and snaps them back upright. The ones that aren't too damaged to stand, anyway.

She hardly notices as she walks to the back and a broken piece of glass from a case puts a big cut in her upper arm as she walks by it to get a bag or something to put all this broken glass and other stuff in. She doesn't even get a bandage on her way, or try to heal it.

Maybe she's a bit hypocritical for being frustrated. Of course there are imPorts here who do some nasty things, and they should be held responsible for it -- not have their places broken into, but in theory that's why legal systems exist?? None of the imPorts, regardless of where their personal ideas of moral codes stand, asked to be in this world, but they're all here for the time being.

But she can also understand how the natives of this world can feel angry to the point of some not acting rational about it. She too has been on their side of this; in her world, she had people from foreign nations come into her place and cause chaos. Her response was also eventually not rational; real, rational, logic doesn't result in volunteering to be illegally experimented on with an alien gem with the promise of gained power. And yeah, she definitely participated in her share of unruly riots and protests where she picked up pretty good skills for slinging Molotov cocktails around.

But still.

She still feels like she's tried here. She's tried to help where she can, she's tried to be a better person than she could have been back home. Mostly. She's had this thought recently that she was pretty foolish for trying to set up a more normal life here -- for various reasons -- and this doesn't help dissipate those thoughts.

⇄ days of forgiveness ⇄

She doesn't say anything really during the event. Just listens and takes it all in. She listens to peoples' stories; how they've been hurt, how they've tried to heal. She doesn't want to ignore the issues and hope they go away, but maybe she cam come away thinking they all meet in the middle or something like it.

vandals & scandals

[jeaniegrey]

[ After receiving the text from Wanda about what had happened, Jean makes her way to the bakery not entirely knowing what to expect. Sure she had been told that there was broken stuff to be found but to see the extent of it all... she didn't think it would be this bad.

Glass crunches under her shoes as she carefully steps inside, her eyes wide, completely at a loss for everything surrounding her right now. ]

Wanda?

[ She reaches out with a gentle nudge of telepathy first, even as she continues to walk through the mess and, eventually, spots the woman. ]

I got here as soon as I could... is everything o...k?

[ She pauses when she comes to see the cut on Wanda's arm and, carefully, she moves a little closer to her, wanting to reach out for her. ]

What happened?

days of forgiveness | open

[glowsferatu]

[ As the presentation goes on, Kanaya eventually slips her way into the line to the stage. She's been feeling a little more emotional than she expected, as she's sat through it listening, and just felt a few things needed to be said. Eventually, she makes it up to the microphone, clutching a handkerchief in her hands.

At first, she leans down to the microphone, until someone runs up and helps her adjust it to her height. After a moment to collect herself, she begins. ]

I don't want to take too much of everyone's time. We should be here to listen, after all. I just wanted to share a few quick words. When I came here today, I expected to hear criticism. I've done a lot of things in my life, some good, and many bad, and maybe some of those things were done to people here. There have certainly been surprises in the stories we have heard today, and I appreciate everyone who came to share them. [ She takes a moment to brush the corner of her eye with the handkerchief. Like, there's no getting around that one of them had already talked about her, there aren't many other pale, horned aliens around. But to bring it up wouldn't seem appropriate, to come on stage and say "hey, look at this wonderful thing I did three years ago." It would be wholly classless. ]

If you forgive us today, I thank you. The gesture is appreciated. But I don't want to see anyone who doesn't neglected, either, especially those who haven't had the opportunity to be here to speak with us. If you don't forgive us, I'm sure you have every reason not to, and you should not feel obligated. In many ways, we don't deserve your forgiveness, but we should be striving, as individuals and as a community, to be worthy of it. We have so many blind attitudes and vicious tendencies to examine within ourselves, when so often we're looking for problems from without, and it absolutely does need to change. I wish I could give you solutions, instead of just pointing at a problem. But I can at least give you an ear.

If you have a story you don't feel you can share on this stage, good or bad, I will be here and I will be listening. Even if you need some proxy to shout at, I'll hear every word. Your perspectives matter, and imPorts shouldn't be allowed to forget that. Thank you.

[ And, with that, she leaves the stage and returns to her seat. Afterwards, she can be found at the tables, waiting for however might approach, staring at her hands pensively. ]

[siriusly]

Wow, Kanaya.

[some time after her piece at the podium's come and gone, Manabu finds his way over to where she sits. he smiles, looking a touch sad, but he feels more proud of her than anything.]

You really have a good way around words, you know. I'm pretty sure a lot more people just realized that. I'm-- [dipping his head for a moment.] I'm pretty glad you said what you did there.

[darkpants_warmfeeling]

a. Days of Forgiveness (speech)

[Jacob rarely gives speeches or seeks publicity. But today, after being confronted so bluntly with the pain, loss, and humiliation innocent people have endured, something stirs inside him, something angry and ashamed. And he gets up on the stage.]

All right. Look. It's great that the government and the historians put this thing together so everybody could talk about their feelings but... something isn't right about this. ImPorts are here because some of our places got graffiti or a broken window, but the ordinary people- [he gestures out to the audience] you're here because you've lost homes and family. You've got scars you have to carry for the rest of your lives. We hardly ever get killed when things go wrong, and even if we do, we can come back. It's not equal. It isn't fair. I get why people are angry and hurting. I'd probably be feeling the same way.

[He pauses for a moment, fumbling for the right words. He doesn't care about the cameras on him right now, only about the people in front of him. When he speaks, the words come from the heart, without filter or hesitation.]

So this is me, saying sorry. I'm sorry for every time I wasn't fast enough or tough enough to help someone, and for every time I let myself get blindsided by trouble I should have seen coming. And I'm sorry I broke the law and went vigilante, too. Two years ago, I thought Archangel would help protect people, but... it was prideful of me to just decide I knew what Maurtia Falls needed. I know that now.

I'm going to help take down the people behind the clone attacks- the people trying to turn us against each other. I'm going to do whatever it takes to make sure we never need to have an event like this again. Beyond that, I'm... going to be better. Better than this. And I hope that after all this, a lot of other imPorts are going to be better too. Because it matters, when we aren't.

[Jacob pauses again, looking out over the room. Then he nods as though he's satisfied with something, and steps back from the mic.]


b. Days of Forgiveness (mingle)

[After his speech, Jacob can be found looking over the notes that have been posted by native citizens, both positive and negative. He also spends some time staring at the news clips being shown near the back of the room, currently focusing on footage of last year's battle in De Chima against renegade Iron Man suits, which Jacob participated in.

Jacob wasn't personally targeted by any vandalism- his workplace is a literal fortress, and his home was extensively secured after a break-in earlier this year. He has been in the thick of many of the crises that have shattered native lives, and he is stung by the pain on display today.

He doesn't look happy, wherever he is. Whatever impulse drove him up on the stage to speak, it hasn't been quieted by giving his apology. And Jacob won't be shy about sharing his feelings with any fellow imPort who wants to talk.]

We can't keep going on like this. Something's got to change. I just wish I knew what.


c. Wildcard

[Anything you want!]

a

[prostheticbody]

[The Major is waiting after Jacob steps down from the podium, arms crossed and sunglasses rendering her expression even more unreadable than usual. Jacob's speech will probably play well to the native crowd, but she can't help but be slightly incensed that the imPorts that should really be apologizing are precisely the ones that never will, and it falls to a good man with good intentions like Jacob to fill that void.]

Did I hear you apologizing for Archangel?

[Her tone isn't condemning, but it's not really approving, either. After all the blood, sweat, and tears the organization gave for Maurtia Falls, in her mind they're not the ones who need to ask for forgiveness.]

[eloquentness]

vandals & scandals

[ It was only a matter of time before the flower shop was hit, Iris supposes. Bits and Bulbs is certainly living up to its name - overnight, someone had wrecked the normally-pristine display of potted plants and flower bouquets. Stray flowers are littered everywhere; soil is strewn on the sidewalks and the nearby street; and even the door is spray painted with awkward, blocky handwriting.

'GO HOME, IMPORTS.'

The message couldn't be clearer, and yet Iris can't help stifling a laugh as she kneels down and tries to salvage what remains of the bouquets she'd worked so hard on - ] I would if I could.

[ Later in the day, she can be found with a sponge outside the door, trying and trying to scrub it down clean. The flower display is half-hearted - and no potted plants in sight - but at least the soil and the mess is mostly in order. ]

days of forgiveness (mingle)

[ White tulips, daffodils, and purple hyacinths - these are the flowers that Iris brings with her to the Days of Forgiveness. According to the language of flowers, they all represented forgiveness and promises to do better. While she can't help being frustrated about the vandalism across the country, she can try to put her best foot forward.

Even if that means grinning and bearing it and bringing flowers to forgive those who've personally been wronged by imPorts. Iris may not have been here long, but she can understand why natives would have real grievances. She can also understand that she wasn't personally who they were frustrated and upset with. (It doesn't make her feel any better.)

There isn't any real room for her bouquets, so she's resorted to handing single flowers out to random people. Which, yes, includes you, should you get close enough to see her. ]

[catchacold]

...thanks.

[No, Leonard hasn't expected to be handed a flower, but he lifts it up to his face while taking a step backwards, making more distance between him and Iris. Nothing personal, he just likes to keep his space to himself.]

Let me guess. You just really thought this would bring out my eyes?

[bindsthedead]

Vandalism; DE CHIMA 007

Sabriel's not entirely surprised when LET THE DEAD DIE is spray-painted over the front of her house- it hurts, but she understands why people are angry- she didn't do enough to stop the Dead her clone raised. Her father probably would have put them all to rest before they degenerated into monsters and dealt with the source of the problem too. What makes her angry are the shattered windows and the trampled flowerbeds- and the dead rats and mice dumped outside, as some kind of statement. They've been dead for a while, and seem to have been frozen before. She'll have to throw them out before they start rotting, Sabriel thinks, but she heads inside first to see the damage.

Days of forgiveness

Sabriel listens as the locals speak, looking up in surprise when some of them mention being saved by her.

When it's time for her to speak, she hesitates. She tries to swallow the lump in her throat, the sudden, overwhelming sense of responsibility. But she can't run away, so she'll need to face this head-on.

"I want to apologize for all the times I and other imPorts haven't caused harm to the people of this world- through malice, neglect, or simply being here and becoming targets. I want to assure you that RISE and other imPorts are doing everything in our power to bring those responsible for what happened to justice, and repair the damage from what our clones did, and deal with any other threats that arise- whether from imPorts themselves or from forces native to this world."

Somehow, that still doesn't seem like enough.

loma shade | ota

[poreiavian]

around maurtia falls

[Having been something of a vandal herself in the past, and sometimes in the present, Loma only has contempt for the brands she's been seeing on people's homes and around town. The venting of angry people, brought to life. She looks at it and she doesn't feel anything herself, but instead absorbs their hatred through the words she reads. Words are powerful. Used for good and bad, they can bring joy and sorrow all the same. A weapon.

She can be a weapon too.

Her job may not pay a lot, but she doesn't really buy much either. The spray paint cans she gets are a little on the expensive side, if only because she purposefully gets the colorful ones. Shades blue, pink, yellow -- bright colors for a bright mood must be used. No reds or blacks, or anything that could scream of pain. And using these cans, she goes around town and begins spray painting over the hurtful messages. Changing them to something new.

MURDERER becomes LOVER. ALIEN becomes VISITOR. MONSTER becomes FRIEND.

Really the only trouble is figuring out what phrases to replace what words... and trying not to run out of cans because there's so much damn graffiti around. She has her work cut out for her, but two can play at this game.]

[siriusly]

[he's not on any clock today but his own, and when he's in charge of his hours, precious few are ever used for downtime. not now, especially. stolen pets and goods, broken windows and busted mailboxes... Manabu's not going to be idle and wait for more trouble to drop, not if he can somehow intervene.

so more's the fire lit in him when, passing through this quieter imPort neighborhood, he hears the out-of-place hissing of spray paint. he slows his walk and listens, stepping into the yard where it sounds closest and-- yeah, the smell, too.

only once he's close, barely a stone's throw from the figure painting new notes on the wall, does he let his footfall crunch on crackled, dry grass as an alert to his presence.]

[rosegroomed]

vandals and scandals; mauritia falls

[Anxiety is eating away at Kyouichi Saionji. Not for any real reason--but isn't that what anxiety is made up of? Nothingness hiding as reason, rather--a void of common sense. He finds reasons for it, sure, ill-fitting ones that don't quite match his mood. He sells knives. He doesn't sleep at night. It's a routine, and it abates some of the ache in his chest, whatever its source. Probably the sword.

He manages, though: he can be found in the Mauritia Falls mall scrubbing the word "SITE" off of his kiosk, grumbling about this-and-that, focusing on the task at hand to avoid how much his own hands are shaking. They don't know. They can't know, in fact, about the things he's done in the past--it's all meaningless (albeit accurate) conjecture. Stupid.

When approached by a potential customer, he rapidly stands up and turns around, hiding the vandalism behind his form. His customer service skills need work, if his deep scowl and vicious glare are anything to go off of.]

Can I help you?

[He says the phrase like a curse.]

day of forgiveness;

["Pissed" is an understatement.

"Annoyed" would be the polite way of vocalizing how he feels, but he's rarely polite--and being more aloof than anything else, he doesn't seem keen on voicing anything to anyone about his own feelings. This is all some kind of circus: he feels like he's being ran circles around by everyone, which, while not unfamiliar to him, isn't exactly fun. He goes to the event because he wants answers. He gets absolutely none. A negative amount, really.

Apologies from people who didn't commit the offense are useless, and he finds himself growing more restless at a small table for two, fussing with a sparse amount of food as the ceremony continues. He's frustrated more than anything else. Tired, certainly, but mostly frustrated.

As the event continues, however, people may find themselves singled out by him as he awkwardly manuevers around tables and benches alike, tapping them on their shoulders before leaning down to loudly whisper a question.]

Do you have a lighter?

[He doesn't look, sound, or smell like a smoker, nor does he have a cigarette anywhere visible, but he does seem insistent about the matter. Strange. Then again, he just gives off a generally strange aura.]

DoF

[dun_moch]

I do not, I am afraid.

[An odd question from someone who doesn't have any visible pipe or other tobacco. But then, Count Dooku looks fairly odd himself, what with his cape and all.]

May I ask what you need it for?

[ofgoldenfoil]

forgiveness

In all honesty, Aurican had nothing to apologize for. He didn't lost his mind, or stole someone's meal. Any crime committed in his name, it was by his (illegal) clone, and Aurican took a stop to it as soon as possible. He has followed the law that is required of him to follow. While he is volunteering his voice, in all honesty, he didn't want to. But he had too.

When his turn came, his wore a black suit - impeccable and almost adorable for a young boy, but what he says next is grim and tired.

"I am sorry for all the lost of life and livelihoods that were destroyed by the actions of imPorts . . . and to those who desired imPort control and power," he began. "I may appear to be a young boy, but I am a dragon of several centuries old at the least - you all have seen footage of me flying in my dragon form, in golden scales. I do not breathe fire to the innocent, and if a day comes when corruption poisons me and makes me do such actions, then do I find death preferable."

He paused to make that statement known.

"I do not have a solution to the problem. I can only point that by working together to a common goal, we can find peace. But first we must agree what goal that must be."

Another pause as Aurican considers his next words.

"That is all I can say."

And with that, he takes his leave.

wildcard

Aurican decided to stay in his human form until hostiles lessen. He leaves for the buffet, and occasionally is found listening to an imPort historian lecturing.

[failedparenting]

[John is here today not because he feels he needs forgiveness or to forgive, but because it's an excellent chance to scope out the various imPorts and natives and take notes without being noticed. He's passing well as a native lately, so deep out of sight of media that he thinks they may have forgotten about him.

He watches Aurican's speech with interest, more fascinated at his easy confession of being than his childlike appearance. Normally he would be deeply wary of any monsters, but this...this seems different. Not good or safe, but different.

Sometime after, John finds the not-boy in the crowd, and for a moment hopes it doesn't look terrible that a grown ass man is going up to a child unprompted.]

You don't often see people offering to be killed, in public.