He grew a blood red vision for all their good intentions

[viced]

WHO: Any imports!!
WHERE: The Rec Center in Heropa, FL
WHEN: Friday August 1st, Evening!!
WHAT: Import Town Hall Style meeting!!
WARNINGS: TBD, let me know if I need to edit this!!


[ The hall is pretty basic, all things considered. Just a simple rec center, Mitch managed to get it for nearly nothing, thanks to some clever talking, and using his 'import' status, saying that it's going to be a whole lot of them, and that they were going to make sure they were safe, etc. etc. etc. Which is good, because he also had to pay for chairs, and the sound system -- everything rented, and dirt cheap, but it's definitely not the nicest system. It's not like he can afford it. There's not even any decor, it's bare-bones. A light flickers, at first -- the first few arrivals will likely notice it -- before at some point it simply stops, before anything gets started. The place is clean, at the very least, but there's that slight scent of people, it's Florida, and it's hot, there's no changing that particular musk.

No dramatic campaign posters, that's for sure. Instead, it's all simplicity. A Rec center with a slightly raised stage (by literally two feet) and then chairs everywhere, enough that he planned for probably more than were going to show up, hoping for enthusiasm, at the very least. The doors are opened wide, until things start -- that's when they'll actually close -- and although he said no food, he did manage to scrounge up rec-center coffee and cocoa, the trademark of any public meeting, served in tiny, Styrofoam cups. ]

[ooc; go to it, folks! Make your own threads as well, if there's something you're looking for that you want to add! }

Comments

MINGLING

[viced]

[ Before things get started, time was factored in to make sure everyone would get a chance to actually shuffle in, give time for the stragglers, and just make sure everyone gets comfortable. It's around forty five minutes, fifteen before the scheduled time, and thirty after, to make sure everyone's good and comfortable. ]

OPEN

[acrobrat]

[One of Bradbury's security recruits is this pint-sized teenage girl leaning against the wall near the entrance, arms crossed. She is dressed in this outfit, holster and all, and what most people wouldn't know is that her clothes are made entirely of paper. Well, the top layer, anyway. This is what she has underneath.

She watches every person entering the hall closely, silently, as if everyone is a security threat. So if you feel a pair of eyes boring through your soul - they're the green ones that belong to her.

Alternately, she wanders the hall, looking at everything and taking her job seriously. Anyone messing around will get a death glare.]

[brushoff]

[ Hey there flatmate. Sitting in one of the chairs, Dorian's balancing an empty coffee cup on his forehead (he's just that bored) when he spots Anita. Moving his head up to look at her, the coffee cup clatters to the floor--Dorian pays it no mind. Instead, he grins at Anita, nodding at her.

She's staring at him like he's a threat. It's cute. ]

Did they really let you in here with that? [ he asks, gesturing towards the holster. ]

OPEN

[viced]

[ The guy organizing the entire damn thing is really near the front through the entire beginning of it, mostly hovering, talking, or just shaking hands. He's there to be visible more than anything, and he's there to make sure that everyone feels welcome, or at least that he wanted to hear what they had to say.

Smile on his face, in a sharp suit, it's obvious he's feeling pretty confident, but beyond that, he looks energized, like doing something like this is the most important thing in the world to him. ]

[acrobrat]

[One of his security goons steps up to him without hesitation.

And she's also his housemate.]

So you and Bradbury are friends? He seems nice.

[waiting]

[ There's not much time before everything starts in earnest, and Bradbury's pretty certain he's going to want to tune most of that out. He was only half-kidding about wanting to bail out, but at least it looks like there isn't going to be any chance of trouble.

Maybe he really did overdo it with the security. Mitch looks better than the last time he saw him, though, and Bradbury gives him a sidelong look when he steps up. ]

Don't get too excited, boss. Your buttons might pop off.

Open!

[aggressiveapathy]

[ Working. She was working the event. No, not even that. Working implied getting paid. She was doing this out of some strange inability to refuse Mitch Hundred which she was not going to be labeling as liking right now. Due to the whole being annoyed this had happened again thing and all.

Still. Here she was. She and (only) two of her raccoons made their way back and forth in the rec center, checking things were where they should be, that no one was on fire, chairs were in order, the whole deal. She even went so far as to correct things that were out of place. It truly was a nightmare.

At least she got to have a cup of hot chocolate in hand as she grumbled around. ]

[waiting]

[ They do live together, so it wasn't like Bradbury didn't get to see nearly enough of her as he'd like, but when he had a free moment, he found himself drifting over anyway. One does have to have some solidarity in the club of perpetually letting Mitchell Hundred talking you into things. ]

Guess he got you too, huh?

THE ACTUAL MEETING

[viced]

[ During the meeting itself, there's a small podium with a microphone set up near the front. It's set up pretty straight-forward, although someone who's helping out may be around directing everyone to take their individual turns. Essentially, line up, and everyone can get a chance to talk. Mitch is going to hang back during this portion initially, let people get their information and opinions out, but occasionally, he will interject, but with each speaker, there will be the opportunity for everyone else to interject too, although if things get rowdy, he'll start asking for everyone to speak up one at a time, if they have a suggestion or something they want to say about the subject. He'll pop in here and there, so don't factor him into any tagging orders anyone establishes, because he'll say something, and then listen again. It's only a few words that he offers to start things off, the ground rules: be polite, let people talk, and criticism is fine, but make sure that it's constructive. "We're here for solutions," he says, very specifically, before stepping back to let the people talk. ]

[brushoff]

[ Dorian had been hanging around the back, mostly bothering his housemates as well as listening to what the others were saying...somewhat...if it wasn't dull...okay, so he's spent most of the time bothering his housemates and friends and like none whatsoever listening to what the others were saying. Lots of time has been spent bitching about the lack of food (thanks, Mitch) but he ends up with a cup of coffee. It's absolutely loathsome, but it's caffeine.

Eventually, a question of his own hits him. So, he walks up to the podium. Honestly, today he looks more like a twenty-something than jetsetter, trendy, Dorian Gray. He's got one good outfit. And he's not wearing that outfit to a town hall meeting. Jeans and an oxford it was. After waiting in line for a bit, Dorian hopped up to the mike, shooting a grin at the crowd. ]

Right, I don't know how you lot tend to do these sort of things...which is actually my grievance. I'm not an American. [ that much is obvious from his British accent. ] And really, that's kind of what I came here to grieve about. I'm not nationalistic by any means, [ said with a wave of his hand. ] But I'd like to be able to at least go back to my home country without the government breathing down my spine. Surely we could get a visa or something for us international imports?

[ Mostly, Dorian just wants to go back to London to look at things. His childhood home, his current apartment complex, the clubs that he frequented...would they all be there? Or would it be something else that differed this world from his? ]

If they love us so much, why not be a little bit more accomodating?

[viced]

Agreed.

[ There's a sigh, and he shook his head. ] Have you asked them if you can go home? I don't know how long it could be for, but I'll float the idea of making sure that offers for getting out of the country should be open and available for everyone.

Have you tried the immigration office?

[darkpants_warmfeeling]

[Jacob's loathe to dip his toes into politics here, but someone needs to bring up certain issues. The basic low-budget setup of the meeting is actually an advantage in his view, contributing to a much less pretentious atmosphere than Jacob associates with the infamously ineffective political figures of his own world. It's with this in mind that he steps up to the mic.]

Some of you probably know me. For those that don't, I'm Jacob Taylor. I was a soldier back where I came from, so I'm gonna focus a bit on the military side of things.

[He folds his arms. Speeches aren't really his thing, so he addresses the microphone with the same tone and body language he'd use in a one-on-one conversation.]

The Soviets. The government says they're the bad guys. And from what they've done? I can't say they're wrong. They've sent mechs to kill civilians, spies to mess with the shuttle, and who knows what's coming next?

Way I see it, we need to decide now whether the Russians are our enemies, or just the government's enemies. I don't want to play soldier for the people that tattooed us. I don't think anyone does. We all know the government can't be trusted. But the Soviets are gunning for us, and I'm pretty sure the military plans to use us to counter them.

[He rubs the back of his head for a moment, pausing to find the right words. No speaking from a script for Jacob.]

What I'm worried about is ImPorts getting caught in this Cold War. The war games have already started. I know I'm not the only one who sees the signs. So this is me, asking all of you to think hard about what you're willing to fight for, and why. [A last pause, then:] Thanks.

[brushoff]

[ Dorian raised a hand, as if to speak, but then he plowed through anyway, not waiting to be called on. ]

It sounds like you're saying the military plans to draft us all up. I don't know how it worked in your world, but where I'm from, protesting the draft evidently became a time honored tradition for you lot. [ you lot meaning 'Americans'--and accompanied with a lazy hand gesture to the rest of the room. ] A time honored tradition that involved people getting arrested and those students getting shot. [ 'those students' meaning the Kent State Shootings. great job forgetting what it's called, Dorian. ]

Is that really what you're suggesting for some of us?

[viced]

Fair enough.

[ He says, after some of the discussion started. Mitchell isn't the sort of guy who wants to take over the discussion, but instead help move it along. ]

The war games have been going on, for a lot longer than they did in my world, in a lot of our worlds. What we have to look at, is do we really let something like what they've done slide? Do we want to just step back if they do something like this again?

[selfequipped]

[At some point in the meeting, Kate stands up and flashes everyone a smile before she goes forward to take the mic. She's been thinking about this for a while, and she needs to get it out there.]

Hi, everyone, I'm Kate Bishop. [She sees quite a few familiar faces, but frankly, it's impossible for everyone to know everyone, and she's no exception to that.]

The big thing I'd want is for everyone to push for transparency. We can't help them if they aren't helping us. I don't think any of us who played paintball enjoyed knowing that we were causing each other harm. And even if we didn't die, the experience is still a very real one. [She had mentioned it to Mitch that certain steps should be taken to circumvent them getting caught up in it, and this is her approach to that.]

My thought is that we should all talk to Captain Holiday as much as possible about that. I'm not going to bother listing off the things that they need to be more transparent about, but I'm sure nearly everyone has an idea. That's not to mention that those of us who are unsettled aren't privileged to get the same kind of information as those who are registered. [She's referring to Captain Holiday's most recent message, which held a great deal of information that Kate wouldn't have been able to access without Loki's assistance.]

A push for that will help us all in the long run. That's all.

[glowsferatu]

[ when kanaya takes her position on the podium, she's clearly prepared for it. too much perhaps, with a stack of papers featuring notes perhaps? maybe prepared remarks? who can even say. she's dressed in something that carefully toes the line between "smart" and "casual", with a pair of reading glasses that will never stop being ridiculously pretentious, but she thinks will let you know she's all business. she taps her papers against the podium before setting them down with a bottle of red liquid and looking out over the rest of the gathering. ]

My name is Kanaya Maryam, and perhaps I've spoken to some of you before. I've been at this for a while, and I think that gives me a sort of perspective that many others here tend to miss.

The first subject I'd like to discuss, the one that many of you will agree is the most important issue we currently face, is that of security, or, more to the point, our dire lack thereof. This is an ongoing issue that became very uncomfortably apparent in May, and has only grown worse in the time since. We've just seen the end of a mass kidnapping of individuals both imPort and native, with deaths on both sides. Preceding that was the business with the shuttle, where we were the ones put at risk more than anyone else.

But has the government taken appropriate steps to address this massive oversight? Nothing adequate. We have to acknowledge the truth of the matter, they are entirely incapable of protecting either us or their own, assuming they are even willing. We'll have to see to that on our own. And, with respect to Mr. Taylor, I am not talking about involving ourselves in the war, but simply seeing to our own defense, and the defense of those threatened by our vicinity.

[ she pushes her glasses up her nose, flipping a page in her notes. ]

Many of you will have seen Jean Kirstein's address a few weeks ago about the formation of a group to identify and neutralize such threats at imPort-centered events. Some of you even saw fit to volunteer for it, and to those I express my deepest appreciation. But we need more. Not just more volunteers, but more resources. A small group cannot be depended on to protect the whole indefinitely, not when our presence here tends to be so tenuous already. We need systems in place to train future volunteers as well, to provide the best we have to ensure a safety that isn't promised to us. The whole thing will be moot if those we have already are exported and we have no replacements.

I notice our representative [ a pointed look at mitchell. ] saw fit to hire his own security today, and I notice also that it largely consists of agents who not only failed to offer their services for this volunteer force, with certain exceptions, but many of them also never bothered to even notice it to be a thing that's happening. [ the frustration bleeding into her voice is well beyond a simple hint, and her grip on the podium has tightened as her jaw sets. but clearly old fashioned guilt is the best way to secure their involvement. ]

Allow me to remind you all that security isn't simply a thing that's done once before your hands are washed of it, it is a matter to be considered every day. No, many of us aren't here to be heroes, and I couldn't give a damn about your feelings on registration. But when it makes the difference between whether this room is filled with future corpses or not, the very least of your efforts can culminate to something significant.

Apathy is death. Believe me, I've seen it happen, and it will happen again if you let it. None of you is so special as to be the exception.

[ she remains silent a few moments, letting her intense glare pass over the crowd, before taking a deep breath and loosing her grip on the podium. she runs a hand through her hair and turning the pages in her notes again. stopping to take a swig from her bottle, she turns a few more pages, finding she'd gotten ahead of them a while back, then then takes another deep breath and puts on a very thin smile for the other participants. ]

The other topic I wanted to discuss, while it seems somewhat less pressing, I think is still important to our ongoing livelihood. Mostly, the matter of our legal status, and what exactly it will mean for us going forward. Many of us arrived here as refugees, but all of us are displaced in this universe. While many of you were born in a nation bearing the same name as this one, I should doubt any of us will be considered citizens by its government.

So, what will this mean for us at the end of the year, assuming we're still here for it? Many imports operate independent businesses, what can they expect from their taxes? Or even for the rest of us, who earn our wages normally? In the City, we were charged at higher rates than a native of equivalent income. What sort of information is available for the current regime's approach to it?

[glassinine]

Good day. I'm Miles Edgeworth; I serve as a prosecutor here in Heropa.

[ Edgeworth accompanies this pronouncement with a small bow of respect to the assembled individuals. He is somehow even stiffer in person than over the network. ]

I've not come here for debate, but rather for a simpler purpose: a mere announcement. I've rented out office space in the north part of town for an Import Help Center. Once I get it running - hopefully sometime in the next few weeks - it will contain meeting space, a career counseling center, a business center, and space for advertisement of Import businesses.

Please contact me if you are willing to volunteer time to assist in this endeavor or if you have any suggestions to give on the matter.

Additionally, the Import fund has grown to $65,000. For those not familiar, this is a fund that will be used to help and support the newest arrivals, as well as to provide loans to Imports looking to start their own businesses or buy property. As ever, donations are welcome. Funds should become available for use later this month.

Thank you for your attention.

[ And with a bow, Edgeworth outtie. ]

SECURITY TEAM

[waiting]

[ If Bradbury recruited you onto the security team, you'll have been asked to show up in smart casual wear, preferably all black if you can at all manage it -- just for the sake of easy identification. Even if you chose not to follow security guidelines, though, there's not much Bradbury can do but sigh and let it slide. It's not like this is that formal a meeting.

Bradbury himself has elected to dress in shirt and tie, though he's elected to go without the suit jacket. After a brief orientation about their expected duties, security team members are all issued lanyards with simple id cards reading SECURITY on them, as well as incredibly retro walkie-talkies for ease of communication. No weapons are issued, because Bradbury's trusting that everyone he's asked to come will have abilities sufficient enough to take care of any trouble should it come up.

For the most part, security is free to mingle among the crowd as they choose, or stay stationed by the exits. Bradbury himself is choosing to walk around, and he'll check in with the members of his team from time to time. He's only half-listening to people air their grievances. ]

[ ooc; feel free to use this log for any pre-meeting security shenanigans or security team interaction! Chatter on the walkie-talkies will be audible to anyone holding one (meaning comm threads are fair game for threadjacking). ]

dog reporting for duty; ota

[ifnotloyal]

[ As all chance went, Ace could follow the little dress code Bradbury had requested. He's already naturally black and white. Even his collar is black. It always has been, so no surprise there. It doesn't exactly mean he fits in, though.

He is, after all, a dog.

He's also planning on not leaving the back wall of the room, unless it can't be helped. The urge to go after the very man holding the meeting was going to be ever present, by no fault of either Mitch or himself. He could forcibly ignore it, but distance was good. As much distance as possible without actually leaving.

So a husky can be found two places. The first is sitting at the doors, minding the people filtering in (and trying to sort out all their different scents; hopefully nothing will see out of the ordinary). The second, stalking back and forth along the back aisle between the wall and the last row of seats. Overall, he's managing to be friendly. Not a huge feat, considering liking people is kind of his natural state of being, but still, this many of them is a little stressful. ]

OPEN | Levi is a jackwagon

[alofts]

[ Levi is supporting the wall and watching the crowd; his SECURITY id hanging off his lanyard swings against his smoky black, double-breasted suit complete with the cravat he seldom got to wore these days. Sharply dressed with a neatly cut suit over suede shoes made him all of two inches taller that evening. Watching the crowd of people undulate back and forth like the passing waves his eyes dulled and he was falling into a false sense of security just watching the world pass on by for Hundred's big and incredibly important town hall meeting.

Static crackled over through the mouth piece of his walkie talkie as he punched down on the button tuning him into the rest of them. ]

Someone in his earshot tell Bradybury I'm never pulling his cat out of a tree again. All clear on the floor?

OPEN for all security shenanigans

[acrobrat]

[All she has right now is a part-time job and this gig, how can she afford fancy duds...

Anita stays in one place for the most part but when she gets bored of the same spot (which wouldn't take long), she will start walking around a bit more, hanging around the fringes of the crowd or disappearing into it to watch some people more closely if her suspicions are roused for some reason.

Her pink hair (and how short she is, let's be honest) make her easy to see wherever she goes, and if she finds herself with another security person, she'll strike up soft conversation.

...that holster is full of paper, by the way. Her only weapons are several sheets of paper.

And when she's not walking around and/or walking up to fellow security folk, she is complaining about the walkie-talkie.]

We get phones with video and flying cars are everywhere, so what's with these? [Anita waves her walkie-talkie.] They look like they belong in a museum!

open

[glassbox]

[ There is, in particular, one very, very tall woman lingering near one of the exits -- dressed in all black, per the boss's request, with a security team ID card hanging around her neck. She doesn't seem bored exactly, but she isn't particularly interested in the proceedings either. Maybe it's the kind of isolationist attitude a person gets from being a mutant where she's from. A mentality of separation. Maybe she just never had much of a mind for politics.

It's not as if she's hoping there's going to be a mechanical shark attack or anything, but she does get restless standing around like this, quasi-listening to people talk with half a styrofoam cup of lukewarm coffee in her hand and one of those old-fashioned walkie-talkie in the other.

After a while, she sets her coffee down on the ground by her foot and starts fiddling with the little device. She's never been particularly good with machines of any kind -- she's the type to kick something until it either works or breaks -- so it's probably a fair amount of luck that she manages to get it to work, all on the right frequency and everything. Holding down the PTT button, she speaks into the receiver a bit wryly: ]

Anybody havin' as much fun as I am?

Open!

[darkpants_warmfeeling]

[Finally, something to guard that doesn't involve Segways or loitering teenagers. Jacob feels a lot more purpose standing watch over this meeting than he ever does at Heropa's mall- or than he did while he was at the power company, for that matter. With some luck, this meeting could help turn some things around for the ImPorts, one way or another. The security team looks formidable, and part of Jacob almost hopes some dumbass decides to take a crack at the gathering so they have a chance to neutralize a threat instead of just responding to disasters.

But it's a dumb hope, and Jacob doesn't put too much weight behind it. Dressed in black slacks and a matching shirt, he's settled into a pretty regular patrol routine: a circuit of the windows and entrances plus a pass through the crowd to mingle. He's unarmed aside from his biotics and the retro radio, but his eyes are peeled and his mind's alert.]

closed to brad the berry

[glassinine]

[ Edgeworth is - no great surprise - buttoned-up, stiff and formal in full suit and long jacket and cravat and - a new addition to his wardrobe - gloves. Never mind the summer heat; what's most important is treating this event with due gravity, and with enough skin coverage that the chance of contact between bare skin is minimized. So when he finds Bradbury, he looks stifled, and hot, and nervous besides; after all, for all that it's been a long while since he actually had his ability malfunction, he's deathly aware of how disastrous it would be in this place.

Still. He's here. Perhaps it's a bad idea, but he's here. And he bows to Bradbury, stiff and formal. ]

Sir.

open to all

[acclimatized]

[ john has been patrolling since bradbury finished debriefing them. he isn't intimidating enough to stand by the doors and certainly isn't equipped with 'active' abilities to prevent something kicking off. his revolver is safely concealed beneath his simple black suit, but he's starting to get the impression he doesn't really need it.

he knows the methods to pick out someone suspicious in the crowd and looks around while listening to the chatter on their walkie-talkies. ]