PL IC Thread IX++ //Oddsbodikins & Atomic Kittens//

[Giovenith]

"What can the average person, abhuman or not, do on a regular basis to help promote a sense of unity between all walks of life in Bielefeld?" Willow asked, having since flown above the crowd for a better position. He felt it was a fair question, as the perceived helplessness of the average Joe was a shackle to countless movements.

[Fvaarniimar]

Rmwtyliin really hoped Charlotte would get around to asking her question SOON. Even she was beginning to get a bit annoyed...and she was cheering for the girl. Well, mostly against Thirteen and for solidarity - but a little for Charlotte.

A lot of annoyed people was the absolute - well, it wasn't the absolute last thing this meeting needed, but it certainly wouldn't help the cause. As she heard Willow's question, the girl paused in chanting for a moment.

"Charlotte, you can handle this," she whispered. "NO TO THIRTEEN!"

[The BranRiech]

"Because opinions can change, Katya, that's why I'm behind this. You're still the same bitter person you've always been." Bran shook his head. "Itum's the only option we have right now, and having him is better than someone who doesn't understand us. If I'm right, Septimus lives in the building, how does he not know what our issues are, and how to represent us?" Bran was starting to look a little annoyed, more so than he was a few moments ago.

"And I don't know how you logic works, you show up to the meeting and start spouting doubt and negativity? Why even show up?"

He sighed, and shook his head.

"Whatever, I'm not going to argue it, I don't hate you, but damn, just have a little faith sometimes."

[Highfort]

Septimus looked up to address the pony that had rather helpfully flown above the crowd to be more visible. The question put him immediately at ease - diplomacy was his forte and getting fractured groups to get along was his modus operandi as part of the Board. Finally, something he could answer without looking like a total ass.

"Unity between all peoples is a laudable goal and," his voice came out smooth, crisp, and confident, "Actually, quite an achievable one. I want all of you to look around and take in the people in this room. You don't have to talk or mingle, just look at them."

He paused to let the audience follow.

"These men and women, human and abhuman, are your neighbors," he continued, gesturing toward the crowd, "They are your coworkers, your protectors, your fellows, and your friends. But we often forget that when we see people bandying about how one group or another is responsible for some incident. The tragedy at the museum is a perfect example of that. Were not some humans interviewed who voiced opinions for thirteen? Were not some of these bigoted opinions disguised under the need for protection from the abhuman 'menace'? Think on this, and remember this the next time you're in a discussion and the human-abhuman dichotomy comes up. This is not a dichotomy, this is not 'us and them'. We are all inhabitants of Bielefield and we all deserve the same opportunities and the same protections from the law."

The cyborg paused to refresh himself with another drink.

"But of course, you may be thinking, that's not actually a suggestion the average person can follow on a regular basis," he nodded at the audience, "That's not something all of you do regularly at work or school or at home. Discussion is not something that happens every day. So I want to invite you to try something. It's not radical or life-changing, just a little habit to add to your daily life."

"I want you," he dabbed a bit of sweat off of his forehead before continuing, "To go outside your comfort zones. I want those of you who don't frequent the market district outside of necessary shopping to consider going there more often, perhaps for lunch or a day trip. I want you to not consider someone's status as human or abhuman before you offer to jump-start their car or help them carry their groceries. I want you to behave as though the human-abhuman dichotomy doesn't exist. And maybe if enough of us believe it to be so, we can make it as such."

He paused to let them take in the suggestion, taking yet another drink and clearing his throat away from the microphone before continuing, hoping that some of this was sinking in.

"Most of all, I want you to be kind to each other," he concluded, "Every man and woman, pony and cyborg, every citizen and foreigner, everyone in this room is fighting a battle you might not know about. And I want you to think about that and let it influence how you treat them next time you see them on the street. Let's not talk about building bridges and then go back to our familiar ways. Let's actually build those bridges in all walks of our life and let's start doing it while we still have the chance."

Realizing he could rope in more people for the Public Works Committee, he added, "I have one such opportunity to present you all here, tonight. The Public Works Committee, arranged by the abhumans of the Building, would like to extend a gesture of friendship to all the inhabitants of the city with the breaking of ground at a new park. It's north of here, in the circular patch of green near the Market District. We'll be transforming it into a public park with centerpieces from all the cultures that inhabit the city, human and abhuman. I would be most pleased if you all came to the ground breaking and brought something to add to the park. It doesn't have to be large, though statues are appreciated. It could be a tree, or some flowers, or furniture. Or even just your support. We'd be glad to have you."

[Torsiedelle]

"Whatever, Bran."

Katya was done with this idiot. "I don't see why my sister keeps trying to be friends with you. I'll see you some other time. I wanted to be able to speak plainly with someone who I could call a friend. Excuse me for trying to be nice. I guess that makes me a bitter person."

Katya got up and pushed her chair in. Why did everyone suddenly not like her? Was she even still wanted? She lived in Bielefield so that she could speak her mind, without being yelled at or met with scorn from everyone around her, and that was exactly what was happening now. She found a new spot, near Sandy & Amanda, and sat down alone, crossing her arms. She didn't want to be at this rally anymore. Any vote from her could be kissed goodbye if she would be told she was unwanted or a bigot for being skeptical.

She listened to Septimus, but she just didn't care at the moment. She needed to clear her mind.

[The Carlisle]

With Willow's question answered, Kale proceeded to ask hers. The previous one intrigued made her feel hopeful of the future, and reminded her the good work and can do. But she needed to know, when, well, shit hit the fan, that he was the man to be at the forefront.

Hello. My name is Kale. My question is more about the future, a... darker one to be honest," she started, "My question is about if Measure 13 gets past. What would you suggest the community do? And will you be at the forefront of it if it happens?" Kale looked a lot more serious, and her demeanor was more of that of a grown woman that her younger appearance suggested.

[Cerillium]

Amused by details he had only recently (within the last hour) been made aware of, Ocho humorously slapped his remaining ear against his head. Joints creaked as he lowered himself into the typical thade stoop.

"Thank you, Amanda. Itum was indisposed and out of touch. No opportunity for me to brief him." A claw lazily scratched at the metal plate covering his missing ear while he reflected upon the excuse given to him. "Something about finding someone's pet pig-dog."

Nothing Residents did ever made sense. He preferred the insane cultists in the Ruins for that reason. The Germans were nonsensical, but there was a method to their madness. It was the Brits that kept him guessing. "We'll need to see to it that Itum's fully briefed before he takes the stage again. I'm predicting a successful election. Nomination period closed, only needed a small percentage to be placed in office? Very easy for us."

The Pony dancing in the air overhead eclipsed a bright light and Ocho was able to better see the beings surrounding him. His watery gaze fastened onto the exotic human in her tea dress. Nostrils worked to draw molecules inward to better experience the enticing floral odor freely mingling with traces of vanilla and bay leaf. Overseer. Itum wasn't kidding about his Nifid ties of course, but the thade wondered how many people in the room would emotionally explode into a higher level of existence were they to discover one of those in their midst. Could be a good thing to keep in mind in the future. Ocho filed the thought away as Itum began speaking again.

This round was much smoother. The human was on familiar ground. And then someone volleyed it back to 13.

"Very good question, Miss Kale. We will remain unified," Ocho grunted as his back muscles propped him upright again. He gave momentary thought to actually taking the stage and squatting but he wasn't certain if the platform would hold his weight. He chose to take a few steps closer to the podium, leaving it to remain behind him.

"As the head of the legal team looking to shred 13, I can tell you that we've invested considerable time into exploring all options. As you know, this Measure was kept hidden until the last possible moment. We can not be certain what will transpire, although we have speculated. District Representative Itum will be at the forefront, naturally, and he will have the support of my legal team as well as valued input from the various citizen and business organizations that serve to better the Market District as a whole.

"We strongly urge this community to look to its elected leader during times of adversity. Please, do not rise to our detractor's bait. Don't play into their hands. Don't put us all at risk by taking justice into your own hands. The world doesn't see individuals. It sees only the label 'abhuman' and it seeks to paint us all with the same brush. Let us strip that brush out of their hands by working together to promote peace through projects such as the park."

[TotallyNotEvilLand]

Ocho showed much more force than Imus. Adri could respect that. She listened intently, and began to get a little more of a gist behind Bill 13 other than it was bad. While there wasn't much else she could think about it, she clapped regardless.

Byron paid close attention as well. He was very skilled at riling people up, and his speech contained every inflammatory phrase in the book. He had himself a question. With a bit of effort he pulled a soapbox out of his backpack and placed it on the floor, climbing on top of it, putting him at equal height with the people around him. Then he heard Kale's question. That was basically the question he was going to ask. "The lass pretty much stole the words out of my mouth, but yeh, a back-up plan is essential. And presuming you do end up winning the vote... what are you intending to do to make sure this sort of problem doesn't come up again? It's natural for people to be scum to one another. Seen it over and over again."

[The Carlisle]

Kale gave a smile to Mr. Ocho after he answered, satisfyingly, her question. "Thank you Mr. Ocho," she replied, happy with the answer. At this point, she felt that she could trust these people to represent them. Septimus was well spoken and a good figurehead and had a great backing with Mr. Ocho and others. Her seriousness disappeared, replaced with silent elation.

[Charlia]

Rmwtyliin really hoped Charlotte would get around to asking her question SOON. Even she was beginning to get a bit annoyed...and she was cheering for the girl. Well, mostly against Thirteen and for solidarity - but a little for Charlotte.

A lot of annoyed people was the absolute - well, it wasn't the absolute last thing this meeting needed, but it certainly wouldn't help the cause. As she heard Willow's question, the girl paused in chanting for a moment.

"Charlotte, you can handle this," she whispered. "NO TO THIRTEEN!"

Charlotte nodded. I can do this. Just ask it. Ask it. Yeah, and get exposed... NO! I WILL ASK IT!
"What exactly can be counted as an abhuman--and what can't? Like, for example... if somebody wasn't human... but also maybe wasn't abhuman either? Does one have to be alive to count as an abhuman?" There. I said it. Yes. Yes, you did. Was it her imagination, or did her darker side sound... almost respectful? Don't give yourself too much credit. You're still a stupid wretch of a girl. And you disobeyed me...
And now I'm going to punish you. NO-

She was born on February 11th, to Kaitlyn Lee Noble and Alex Cameron Noble--but her first day in the world became one of tragedy when her unborn twin sister Hania perished, taking Kaitlyn with her. She lived with her father for three years--the happiest years of her life, and the only star in her darkened sky. She had only happy memories of that brief time--her father was always kind, always cheerful, always had something new to show her. She trusted him completely, and believed that he would always be there for her.
But the universe is cold and cruel, and what is the belief of a child but dust on the wind?
She was three years old when it happened. The news reported that a fire had taken many lives--but they didn't report what was truly important--at least to her. Her father was dead, and he was never coming back.
Her innocent heart broke that day.

She could not survive alone, of course, and so she was taken from everything she had ever known and placed into a home where she did not belong. But humans have long imitated the universe, and she was cast out only two years later--and so the cycle of betrayal and loneliness continued for three years, until finally she found herself being cared for, loved, two kind people watching over her. She thought at last she had found a home. That she would stay here, and never leave.
But the nature of the universe had not changed, and tragedy struck again when she fell severely ill, and the couple simply couldn't afford to pay for her medicine--so with tears in their eyes, they bid her farewell, and again she was passed on--but this time, four years later, she was completely unprepared for what was going to happen to her.

Emma and Michael Kincaid.

Two people who should never have been allowed to take care of her--but through a horrific error in the system--they were. And Charlotte entered living hell.

Emma was an alcoholic. Years of living with her husband had driven her to drink, and the house was littered with bottles. It was a rare occurrence indeed that she was not in a drunken stupor--giving her husband free reign.

Michael quickly became the focus of Charlotte's nightmares. A simple question drove him into a rage, and Charlotte suffered many injuries from belt, glass, knives, anything and everything he could get his hands on. Her days were agony, her nights sleepless. Her grades fell sharply, and it was inevitable that someone would finally ask. And five years later, they did.

One day, a counselor at school asked her to come and talk to him. She was a brilliant girl, he said. He knew that, because until recently, she had gotten nothing but A+ in every subject. But now... Now she was at risk of failing. Relieved, she finally spilled her story, telling him every gruesome detail, every horrifying episode of pain, feeling certain that he would do something, trusting that he would get her out of the hell her life had become.

But the universe is pitiless, and it was not to be.

He did the one thing Charlotte did not expect.
He picked up the phone, and he called Michael Kincaid.

The man arrived there, already showing signs of fury, asking what she had done.

The counselor turned to Charlotte, and said the sentence that would change her life.
"Tell him what you just told me."

She turned pale. She couldn't say it. Not to his face. Didn't he know what would happen to her?

Apparently not, because he told Michael exactly what she had been saying.

Would he deny it?

Of course he would.

He played it off as a stunt, a grab for attention, and the counselor believed everything.

Charlotte was taken back to the house, and that night, she was beaten, cut, put through agony in every way the cruel man could think of, her cries for mercy unheeded, her pleading causing only mocking laughter, and then cast out into the cold night.

She lay there, bleeding from wounds all over her body, sobbing, pure terror and sorrow and pain filling her mind with no hope of relief. She lay there for three hours, until she finally, mercifully, died.

But the universe would not take pity on her even now, for death was not the end, no--she returned, remembering everything, still scarred.

She lives on as a spirit even now, and has given up all hope of finding the peace she needs to rest, for the only way she can be free is when her killer is exposed and her death avenged.

[Fvaarniimar]

"Or furniture."

Kwa'a murmured the words to herself. That, too, she could do. A nice bench, perhaps? An iron frame would work well - maybe with copper leaf? It'll prevent rust, and turn a nice green. And perhaps woven wicker, for the seat and back. A child could handle that, although perhaps not that well - she'd ask Rmwtyliin to help. After all, it wasn't as though the girl had much else to contribute...although she had done a nice job on those lamps. Kwa'a's reached for her sack to finger hers, only to remember that it had been left at home.

--

Would an irka nut grow in this climate?

Normally they were restricted to Fvaarniimar, but with some help... Rmwtyliin didn't think it would hurt to ask Kale.
--
What could I bring?
Nick didn't have that many possessions; the few things worthy of the park, such as Tsanis' sand statue, weren't items he would part with.

Besides, sticking a statue of himself in the park- even if it did show that powers could be used for positive purposes - seemed rather arrogant.

Maybe I'll find something... Otherwise, I guess I give my support.

[The New Velociraptor Empire]

"The Baron does not accept uninvited visitors and the other one is unknown to me I am afraid." the man said "Until such time as the Baron requests you or your are invited in by a member of this coven I cannot allow you to enter." The doorman's satellites focused in on Arthur detecting several of the tell tale marks of the Luxans presences and higher reality upon him even though they were faint. He focused in on these details and was able to tell that yes it appeared Arthur had been within one hundred yards of a Luxan at some point in his life a very suspicious notion. "Wait here, I must ask the Baron a few questions." He closed the door and reactivated the various tarot corridor locks and trance angle bolts.

As he did so Arthur became aware of presence behind him which appeared to be the very quite form of Hollow who had tapped into the life web and taken on the powers of a tarantula. As such her entire skin was a mess of eyes and fur as her body tapped into to otherworldly biological forces. She looked at him with a spiders hungry eyes as well obvious finding him interesting.

Arthur frowned, but what could be expected from somebody else's minions. He waited at the door and soon noticed Hollow's presence, he turned to see her in an humanoid arachnid state. "My, what big eyes you have, and in such plentiful quantities as well." he quipped with a chuckle. Then in hindsight a Spiderman reference would have been much more fitting than Red Riding Hood. "Nice to meat you." He greeted with an extended claw. Although the typo was indistinguishable in speech, this was the first time the screw up was caused in higher dimensions rather than his own speech quirks which he greeted victims with.

---

Meanwhile, Neil and Gretta were at the press conference wearing their Sunday best so to speak. Neil wearing a top hat and monocle with his black suit and Gretta in a black gown and plume hat. They were against Prop 13 solely due to the fact it would make their work more difficult. The social climate was a mixed bag, they wanted this ab/normal dynamic as it reflected their own culture, but unfortunately here they were not the big fish at the top of the food chain but they were working on that. What if it passed? They could drop the thin facade and outright be themselves as blending in would not be worth the work. What if the feds came in and tried to take their work and home? So be it they had come back from that before. Take their children? The city would drown in flames and chaos as they would release their mad experiments and captured specimens to wreak havoc upon these mere humans who thought they could ever be safe from them. Human and Abhuman was not the line they drew, they drew their lines as Raptor, useful non-Raptor, and everything that needs to die. Neil and Gretta silently smirked, knowing that a single word from them could be interpreted in many ways, now was not the time to tamper with things.

Raptors were evil, what else could you expect from them?

[Giovenith]

This could be the chance I was looking for! Willow rubbed his hooves together in glee with bright eyes as he landed back into his spot. Maybe even better!

If he could bring the charity show to the park opening, all that would be left to worry about would be the goods transfers. It wasn't exactly the same level he'd been imagining, but that didn't matter. What a Celestia-send!

Next step: Smacking sense into Giovenith and collecting the art.

[Swith Witherward]

Neste clapped and chanted along with those standing near her but she allowed her senses to continue to drift. She sensed emotional unrest near Rmwtyliin and Charlotte. The latter asked her question and then fell into silence, perhaps to deal with whatever had prompted her to ask it in the first place. If the construct were to hazard a guess, she would have said that ghosts and other weird things were considered abhuman. Humans always lumped things together oddly. Much to her chagrin, they insisted on lumping her with AIs while simultaneously declaring Scel a unique being rather than her outer shell.

Other negative emotions rolled through the room. Mistrust - this was expected. Animosity - again, expected. There was an odd fizzle rippling through a cluster of Residents; it resolved itself somewhat when two girls moved away from the group.

Her golden eyes blinked and her gaze settled on Byron. His question had come before the odd girl's. She didn't linger on him, however, and she moved on.

Septimus was doing well, she thought, and holding his own. Normally she would have been provided with files in order to feed data to him through their tether. It was the secret to smooth witherwardian diplomacy. Ambassadors were seldom caught off guard, and high ranking politicians always had answers when pressed. No one had given her Ballot 13 information, and she had failed to mention the trick to Septimus prior to arriving. Maybe next time. Yes, perhaps that would be a good idea.




"How gozzit?" Nila sat in front of Titus' tank, her back pressed against the cool glass and her head tilted inquisitively. Scel had relayed the speeches for the benefit of small construct and Drone alike but had fallen silent.

"Hm?" the kushed exo was only slightly paying attention to the biogarden's occupants. Her thoughts had wandered into thade territory. Specifically, the manner in which the thade spoke. In one breath, he spoke of further containment and restriction, and he had raised his fist in the next.

Her claws scraped through familiar grooves on the floor as she contemplated everything. "Nila, when a thade is boxed in, what does he do?"

"The individual one?" her head tipped the other direction. "They explode. They bristle and swat and claw and bite and make smells."

Scel nodded. "And when thade are boxed in, what do they do?"

"A bunch of them?" the small construct flapped her ears. "You can't box them in if they're on a planet. They all go shoulder to shoulder and start digging like cowards."

"Not cowards, Nila," Scel added, "but yes, they burrow deep, cutting themselves off from the surface. The warriors guard the workers, and the priests come to the surface to distract and harass while the entire colony shifts. And here is Ocho, distracting and deflecting and boasting of his stubborn refusal to be contained. Tell me, where is Ocho's physical office?"

"Nowhere."

"Yet he's working on all these cases," Scel purred. "He's either lying about that, or else his office is someplace clever and deep and not easily found. He's done his digging. He's not swatting and clawing. He's instinctively moving to distract because he knows his new hole is safe."

Nila raised a brow. "What are you saying?"

The exo eased herself from the floor. It was just a hunch, but Scel had participated in the genocide of the species, and one tended to develop a bit of a knack for guessing thade mindsets.

"The vote is tomorrow. If we are going to entrench ourselves properly, we will need to start work now. FUBAR and I are the workers, Amara is the warrior and you, my sweet little Nila," Scel tapped the little lizard's nose with her claw, "You are going to be the priest. You go sit in the lab and harasss anyone that comes through that door. Chop, chop. Let us get moving."

"Oooh! Are you going to expand the biogarden, Sceleratam? Can Buttons come help? We doesn't do much as one these days. Hardly ever, really."

"Buttons?" Scel paused then slowly swung her head to face the little lizard. "Do you mean to say..."

Nila wrung her tiny hands, delighted that she might be found useful. "Lake Pearlelei. They thought we was a pretty rock so they stuck a park sign on us."

The exo smiled. "Pull yourself together, and then help Amara disassemble that ticktock lab."

[The BranRiech]

Bran was about to say something, but decided against it as he watched the older of the two sisters walk off and sit by herself somewhere else. He looked to Yuna as the girl sat next to her, looking ashamed as of what happened. "Was she like this earlier?" He asked, nudging her in the shoulder.

The girl looked up, and shook her head.

"Well, she was being a little abrasive, and she got in some kind of argument, but . . ."

She didn't feel much like giving dirt on Katya, considering she was the sister of one of her best friends. She didn't want anyone to be mad at anyone really, but that was obviously a pipe dream, like the one Septimus referenced. "I didn't think she'd be like that."

Bran rolled his eyes.

"Her sister's nice, but Katya? Eh, she's . . . Well for some reason, today she's being a bitch."

He looked up, having been somewhat drowning out the questions for Septimus at this point. He had heard the answers, but the questions were lost to him as he finished his argument with Katya. No one had won the argument, but at least it was over now. He thought of his options, and considered asking his own.

[Northwest Slobovia]

"We'll need to see to it that Itum's fully briefed before he takes the stage again. I'm predicting a successful election. Nomination period closed, only needed a small percentage to be placed in office? Very easy for us."

Amanda nodded, listening to the questions and the crowd's reactions to the answers. Septimus was doing better than before, but Ocho was still assisting him more than he really should have needed. Ocho's size was helpful here, both for making himself seen and firing up the crowd, but if the rest of the city's inhabitants reacted to that the way she did to FUBAR's towering height, it would be better if he wasn't taking a main supporting role.

Amanda waited for a break in the questions, then whispered to Ocho. "The election seems certain, but the Ballot Measure much less so. I'll try to catch Septimus before he leaves and ask about that."

"Oh, and I should meet with you tomorrow about today's curious client. That's a strange situation. I'll call you in the morning."

This could be the chance I was looking for! Willow rubbed his hooves together in glee with bright eyes as he landed back into his spot. Maybe even better!

Sandy watched the tiny pegasus hover in a spotlight after asking his question, and followed Willow down with his eyes. Most artists I've known haven't been at all interested in practical matters, and some have been complete flakes. But Willow... a solid approach to our problems this afternoon, and an incisive question now. He's clearly a flying-horse artist of a different color! Maybe we should invite him over too. Time to say hi.

Sandy walked down an aisle at the side of the room, passing by a few people standing against the wall: humans, humanoids, anthros, and a couple even harder to place types. None of them looked at all familiar; they have been from elsewhere in the Market District. That's a good sign; we're not so isolated as I worried.

Sandy slipped into Willow's row, and found a seat next to him, practically beaming at the little pegasus. "Hello, Willow! Excellent question, the best of the evening! You're really full of great ideas today!" After a few moments, Sandy noticed something, or rather noticed its absence, and he looked around in surprise. "Where's Giovenith?" A slight, knowing smile came to his lips. "Or did she go sit with Marcus?"

[Giovenith]

Initially smiling in greeting at the approach of pegasus-man Sandy Bela, but then frowned at the question of Giovenith, remembering the cranky and hysterical girl back at the room. It wasn't really his place to be making any bad image of her.

"She wasn't feeling well, she just needed a little extra time in bed," Willow explained smoothly, trying to sound sympathetic. It wasn't really a lie, just an underdeveloped truth. "I'm bringing her back some soup later and filling her in on the meeting. I know she would have wanted to come otherwise, I believe it's just stress. What of you, this hasn't been affecting you or Amanda negatively, hopefully not?"

Willow was also curious as to whether or not Sandy would be able to vote on 13. Being a much more "official" community member, he would certainly hope so.

[Germanic Templars]

Thriller did not pay much attention to the issue at hand; that was Dr. Smith's job and his cyclops eye. Instead, Thriller scanned the room, mentally pointing out individuals in the room that he knew or felt like he knew.

Dammit, a lot of people here. Too bad I only know some of them. Then again, I still wish I had M.A.I here with me, maybe I could get in to records and do profile matches? Nah, that is rather dishonest, interesting, but dishonest.... And a bit creepy too.

Thoughts like this raced through his mind until his eye caught sight of Katya moving. Curious, why move? Such a good spot. Maybe I should ask questions, maybe not. Maybe that chair she left can hold my weight?

Thriller placed Max up against the wall next to Dr. Smith before making his way over to where Katya sat, trying to keep a low enough silhouette to not block the view of others. To his surprise, and his confusion, he saw Bran sitting next to a blue skinned female he felt he never recognized before. "Data? Nope, don't know here, but he does know her." Thriller stared awkwardly at them for a few seconds, "Psst, Bran. Brahn." Thriller whispered, as he tried to not interrupt the speech.

[Highfort]

Septimus nodded at Byron, then at Charlotte and proceeded to answer both questions to the best of his ability. The former appeared far simpler than the latter, the definition of abhuman being rather clear-cut in the cyborg's mind. He almost wondered why one would have to ask such a question at all, though he supposed it was worth it for its own sake - free inquiry and all that. Clearing his throat, he began with Byron's straightforward question about his plans as representative.

"The nature of sapient beings behaving cruelly toward one another is questionable," he raised a hand to clarify, "Cruelty is a byproduct of competition. As representative one of my primary goals will be to encourage cooperation through channels such as the Public Works Committee and initiatives such as the aforementioned Peace Park. If we see each other as fellows rather than rivals, as struggling together rather than against each other, then we'll be able to find common ground more easily. And that means it's less likely some of the fearful among us will support measures such as Thirteen."

Taking a deep breath, he added, "The vicious cycle of violence on this planet is a result of evolved primates competing for resources. Competition is ultimately futile; we must cooperate if we wish to build a better future for everyone. To all those listening who support Thirteen, know that you are not only robbing your fellow sapient beings but also yourselves and your children. Please, reconsider and join your fellow humans and abhumans at the table of peace and brotherhood. Join us and build a better tomorrow."

He concluded before wetting his lips with another drink, "I hope that answer is satisfactory, citizen. Now, as to the young lady's question about what constitutes abhumanity."

"Abhumanity is not the a departure from humanity, as its dehumanizing prefix may imply, but rather any individual different from humanity in terms of race," he clarified, rubbing his chin, "I actually find the label rather troubling as it is species-centric. After all, non-cyborg individuals are not amechanical. Or, for those more familiar with human races, a person from Europe is usually not referred to as non-American in everyday conversation. Rather, we are referred to by our positive traits and characteristics. So yes, miss, you are abhuman - alive, dead, or undead - but I would much rather you be referred to by your name. You are more than just not human, you are someone with values and dreams. Say, what is your name?"

[Torsiedelle]

"What the fuck does Bran know, the man's too much of a cuck to actually stay, the little bastard, and I thought that he was a good neighbor, the prick. Me not being wanted is bullshit, I tell you, complete bullshit, and he probably only says that because I don't want to bow down to his precious abhumans that he adores so much, the weirdo. God, not being confident of a man doesn't make me a racist, but no, that's the way these equality movements work in the West; if you're skeptical of a person who supports a minority, then you're a racist. What bullshit."

Katya shut her eyes and took a moment to try and push all of her nasty thoughts out of her head. She wasn't unimportant, and she wasn't a racist, or a disappointment, or a fuck-up, or whatever else she had ever thought of. She should just brush Bran's words away, but they stuck like glue, and it was really tearing her down. When she saw thriller coming her way, she was so happy; she hadn't seen the man in forever, and she knew that she could talk to him. He wasn't as sensitive as the others, and-

"How dare he!"

Her seat? He wanted to talk to the Conscript?! She was getting no sympathy, and it was rubbing in Bran's point in her mind. Was she really that unimpressive?

Katya was still staring at Bran's backside with narrow eyes, her legs crossed and her foot wagging. He really hurt her feeling, saying that she wasn't needed or wanted. She was so mad, she could just....

She got up and quickly stepped back over, right behind the two men. "You're an ass!", She hissed, still keeping her volume in mind so not to draw negative attention their way, before turning and walking back to her new seat just as quickly as she had come. She swung one leg right back over the other and crossed her arms, and half-moped, half-listened to the others at the rally.

From her seat, Torii leaned back, sitting the chair on its back legs to see Bran. She whistled and chuckled softly. "Damn, you messed up. Hey, Mr. Thriller.", She said, before sitting back down to talk with kale and Nick, who's ear she scratched nonchalantly. He was a good cat. She missed him.

[Charlia]

Septimus nodded at Byron, then at Charlotte and proceeded to answer both questions to the best of his ability. The former appeared far simpler than the latter, the definition of abhuman being rather clear-cut in the cyborg's mind. He almost wondered why one would have to ask such a question at all, though he supposed it was worth it for its own sake - free inquiry and all that. Clearing his throat, he began with Byron's straightforward question about his plans as representative.

"The nature of sapient beings behaving cruelly toward one another is questionable," he raised a hand to clarify, "Cruelty is a byproduct of competition. As representative one of my primary goals will be to encourage cooperation through channels such as the Public Works Committee and initiatives such as the aforementioned Peace Park. If we see each other as fellows rather than rivals, as struggling together rather than against each other, then we'll be able to find common ground more easily. And that means it's less likely some of the fearful among us will support measures such as Thirteen."

Taking a deep breath, he added, "The vicious cycle of violence on this planet is a result of evolved primates competing for resources. Competition is ultimately futile; we must cooperate if we wish to build a better future for everyone. To all those listening who support Thirteen, know that you are not only robbing your fellow sapient beings but also yourselves and your children. Please, reconsider and join your fellow humans and abhumans at the table of peace and brotherhood. Join us and build a better tomorrow."

He concluded before wetting his lips with another drink, "I hope that answer is satisfactory, citizen. Now, as to the young lady's question about what constitutes abhumanity."

"Abhumanity is not the a departure from humanity, as its dehumanizing prefix may imply, but rather any individual different from humanity in terms of race," he clarified, rubbing his chin, "I actually find the label rather troubling as it is species-centric. After all, non-cyborg individuals are not amechanical. Or, for those more familiar with human races, a person from Europe is usually not referred to as non-American in everyday conversation. Rather, we are referred to by our positive traits and characteristics. So yes, miss, you are abhuman - alive, dead, or undead - but I would much rather you be referred to by your name. You are more than just not human, you are someone with values and dreams. Say, what is your name?"

She blinked. "Um... Charlotte. Charlotte Noble... and if you look around enough," she grinned wryly, "you will find out that yes, I am dead... suspected foul play, they never figured out who it was, case cold." They never even suspected him... but then, that's my life. Or... my death, I suppose. She had to blink back tears as she thought of all she had lost. The life she couldn't have. The endless eternities alone. She would never be loved, for who could love a ghost? And she would never rest in peace, for with a cold case such as hers--why would they ever reopen it? And once he died... Once he dies, it will be too late.

[Fvaarniimar]

Intriguing.  A spirit with a physical body - but perhaps not quite her own kind, as the girl had - had she been human once?  It didn't seem improbable. A spirit, in a world where spirits were not so limited, possessing - or so it seemed to Kwa'a - her own dead body.

It was enough to send chills down one's spine; she tried to control her nervousness.  Charlotte didn't seem like an evil spirit - just a sad one.   (Understandable, for one who had been treated in such a matter.  Murder - and no one had realized who was responsible?)  Besides, hadn't they all been advocating tolerance moments before?

That meant nothing if they weren't willing to adopt new attitudes.

She's Charlotte Noble, someone with values and dreams.
(And I'm Kwa'a Bhewehg.  I'm also someone with values and dreams, aren't I?)

Perhaps those new attitudes... Perhaps those new attitudes could even extend to herself.

--

Rmwtyliin had been expecting Charlotte's secret to be merely that she was abhuman, not that she was also dead.

Unlike Kwa'a, who was used to the concept of spirits having limits, Rmwtyliin saw no reason why the girl couldn't just march up to the person responsible and say, "He killed me."  At the very least it might cause the investigation to be reopened.  She held her tongue, however; she had already interfered in the older girl's business enough.  The meeting was continuing.  What she had done earlier had been rude but (she thought) important - this was simply rude.  It could wait.

Something else couldn't really wait, though.  Rmwtyliin's people had a great deal of reverence for spirits.  Charlotte seemed to enjoy being treated as though she were a normal person.  The princess could understand that - as she'd thought earlier, she was hiding part of who she was. 

Would it really be fair to treat Charlotte differently, even if that was what Rmwtyliin's culture demanded? After all, that would amount to treating her differently due to her status as an 'ab' - and hadn't they just been asked not to do that? Frankly, she needed some guidance.  Normally, she would have asked her mother - obviously that was not an option.  Request guidance from any spirit around?  Perhaps.  Were there any here? 

Well, there was Charlotte. She could outright ask the girl how she wanted to be treated - but that could put Charlotte on an awkward position. Kwa'a was older than she was, and apparently knew something of her culture. On the other hand, there was information which she was withholding. Perhaps Giovenith instead? She was withholding the same information, but she had identified herself as a friend. She was not Bomic. And she knew how this reality worked.

Rmwtyliin had not seen her in awhile, but thought that finding her would be fairly simple. After all, she did live in the Building. Sure, she was still basically a spirit or something - but that no longer seemed quite as intimidating, and she really had been very nice when Rmwtyliin had been really scared.

So, she would talk to Giovenith at the first opportunity - Rmwtyliin scanned the room for white hair. There was indeed some, but none of it belonged to Giovenith. So. How should she handle things, in the meantime? Perhaps - perhaps she should continue treating Charlotte with the respect due an older girl. She had not seemed to mind such treatment - or even Rmwtyliin's being a bit less respectful. Even if Charlotte was the sort to require more respect...

...Rmwtyliin thought that she would understand.

--

Nick purred at the ear stroking. That said, speaking of his ears - they were pretty sharp.

<So why exactly is Bran an ass?... Oops, didn't realize you'd hear that.>

[The BranRiech]

Thriller did not pay much attention to the issue at hand; that was Dr. Smith's job and his cyclops eye. Instead, Thriller scanned the room, mentally pointing out individuals in the room that he knew or felt like he knew.

Dammit, a lot of people here. Too bad I only know some of them. Then again, I still wish I had M.A.I here with me, maybe I could get in to records and do profile matches? Nah, that is rather dishonest, interesting, but dishonest.... And a bit creepy too.

Thoughts like this raced through his mind until his eye caught sight of Katya moving. Curious, why move? Such a good spot. Maybe I should ask questions, maybe not. Maybe that chair she left can hold my weight?

Thriller placed Max up against the wall next to Dr. Smith before making his way over to where Katya sat, trying to keep a low enough silhouette to not block the view of others. To his surprise, and his confusion, he saw Bran sitting next to a blue skinned female he felt he never recognized before. "Data? Nope, don't know here, but he does know her." Thriller stared awkwardly at them for a few seconds, "Psst, Bran. Brahn." Thriller whispered, as he tried to not interrupt the speech.

"Thriller?" Bran whispered, looking quite surprised as he turned to face his friend. It had definitely been a good long while since the two had seen each other, and it was almost amazing to see him again. "Long time no see." He smiled as Katya's words stung like a wasp. He watched her get up to leave, leaving her spot open for Thriller to sit down. "I wouldn't ask, she's being a negative bitch." He shook his head.

Bran scooted his chair over slightly to make room. "Speech is over, people are just asking questions now."

[Germanic Templars]

Thriller did not pay much attention to the issue at hand; that was Dr. Smith's job and his cyclops eye. Instead, Thriller scanned the room, mentally pointing out individuals in the room that he knew or felt like he knew.

Dammit, a lot of people here. Too bad I only know some of them. Then again, I still wish I had M.A.I here with me, maybe I could get in to records and do profile matches? Nah, that is rather dishonest, interesting, but dishonest.... And a bit creepy too.

Thoughts like this raced through his mind until his eye caught sight of Katya moving. Curious, why move? Such a good spot. Maybe I should ask questions, maybe not. Maybe that chair she left can hold my weight?

Thriller placed Max up against the wall next to Dr. Smith before making his way over to where Katya sat, trying to keep a low enough silhouette to not block the view of others. To his surprise, and his confusion, he saw Bran sitting next to a blue skinned female he felt he never recognized before. "Data? Nope, don't know here, but he does know her." Thriller stared awkwardly at them for a few seconds, "Psst, Bran. Brahn." Thriller whispered, as he tried to not interrupt the speech.

"Thriller?" Bran whispered, looking quite surprised as he turned to face his friend. It had definitely been a good long while since the two had seen each other, and it was almost amazing to see him again. "Long time no see." He smiled as Katya's words stung like a wasp. He watched her get up to leave, leaving her spot open for Thriller to sit down. "I wouldn't ask, she's being a negative bitch." He shook his head.

Bran scooted his chair over slightly to make room. "Speech is over, people are just asking questions now."

"Yes it has been long time." Thriller asked as he moved the chair out from the way to sit on the ground next to Bran, after all those chairs seem small and not sturdy enough to hold a few tons of metal.

Thriller looked back at Katya then back at Bran with it tilted, "Though now that you brought it up, what happened between you and Katya? An argument or something? Curious cause I wanna see if I can help a little."

[Torsiedelle]

Wow, this was getting kind of interesting. They had Cthulu maniacs and raptors, but a dead person? The thought of escaping death and continuing to walk the Earth was very intriguing to Torii, and ah! Look at the girl herself, what a beauty!

"I need to get in on that already-dead action. Then I never have to worry about growing old. That's the real prize.", She said offhandedly to Kale and Nick (and possibly Yuna).

She switched to Nick's other ear and smirked. "I think maybe they were talking about the rally, or whatever happened at the meeting with Sandy earlier. Bran's always kind of stuck with the powers that be, not wanting to fight, and I think my sister's just going through some stuff right now. I think she's feeling ignored or not very useful, and if there's one thing I know my sister loves, it's feeling popular and useful. She got into a little spat with Minerva earlier because she was feeling undermined."

She neglected to bring up the night of her birthday. Her sister was too hard on herself. She was only twenty-one; Katya wasn't too different from herself, either. They both wanted to feel like a part of something, but where Torii just wanted friends and to feel like her existence was acknowledged, Katya wanted to feel like she was respected and a useful part of something bigger. Torii blamed her fancy rich upbringing for setting her up high. Sometimes it was just better to see all the little things you already had and be comfortable with that. Torii had her friends, her comfy little apartment, and a fun little job that she didn't even have to work on a schedule.