Containment: An Original Roleplay: Scenes/Logs/Threads

Who: Liese and Nika
Where: Outside city hall
When: Just after the debate

( No one really liked debates. )

Who: Clem & Rémy
Where: Claudiana's (Italian Restaurant)
When: 8:00pm

Clementine did her best not to dress up for dinner with Rémy. That didn't mean she didn't put any effort into her appearance, but she made the conscious choice to forgo the dress and heels, and wear a comfortable pair of jeans, and a light blue sweater. It was casual, and that's what Clementine was aiming for. It was mildly irksome that she was still putting any thought into this at all. Rémy was her friend, and it was going to stay that way.

When she arrived at Claudiana's, Clementine was led to a small table, where she sat and got comfortable. The restaurant wasn't terribly busy, and Clem ordered a water as she waited for Rémy to arrive. This dinner didn't have to be weird. Despite their history, all Clem really wanted was to be able to relax around him again. She wanted things back to normal. Or as normal as they could be, considering.

Who: Rémy and Oz
Where: The hospital cafeteria (?)
When: Lunch time

After the frankly odd string of messages that had occurred between him and his future wife, Rémy found himself in need of some adult time with real adults talking about adult things. Sometimes, children's laughter was great for putting some lightness in your heart that had no place being there, but this went beyond that. Especially when he was supposed to have dinner with Clem in a few hours.

He had gotten good at the whole 'delayed indefinitely' thing, and this was no longer an option. Suddenly, lunch with Oz both seemed like the best and worst thing to do right now. Best because he needed to vent, worst because venting to your betrothed's ex-boyfriend might just be the worst idea he'd ever heard. But who else was there? And besides, Rémy's schedule didn't allow for reschedules most of the time. If it was going to happen, it was going to be today.

He showed up at the hospital with his backpack, thankful that it wasn't that far a trek from the school to the hospital - although a mere week or so ago he had felt the exact opposite, but then today nothing seemed prime for exploding. Making his way through the place to where Oz had told him to meet him, Rémy wondered just what the signs were when something did seem prime for exploding. Probably none.

He spotted Oz and waved, smiling as he closed the distance between them. His friend looked nothing short of miserable. "Hey. You look like I feel, what's up?"

Who: Babs and OPEN! Bring on the multiples and minithreads! Just use your subject lines to mark times/characters.
When: 7pm to closing (about 2am)
Where: The Double Tap
What: Karaoke night!
Warnings: Probable language? Idk

For a last minute idea, karaoke night seemed to be a success. The bar was crowded almost to capacity. It seemed that Babs wasn't the only one who needed something ridiculous in her life. A light-hearted night of good drinks and bad voices (and okay, a few great ones) was just what the doctor ordered.

She'd set up a system so that everyone who sang had to put a dollar in the pot. In return, the DJ would give them a voucher for half of a drink or appetizer. At the end of it all, the patrons would take a vote, and the winner would get the pot and a bunch of vouchers for free drinks. It wasn't much, but Babs was getting the feeling she would have had a pretty good turnout even if there was no contest involved. People just wanted to have fun. Sasha had raised a good point, and it was only right and fair that Babs went first to break the ice. Never one to back down from an opportunity to make an ass of herself, she'd been a good sport about it, singing Rehab by Amy Winehouse. Given the week she'd had, it had seemed appropriate.

Who: Juno and Charlie
Where: The hospital reconstruction site
When: Lunch time

Sometimes, odd as it sounded, the relentless burn of overworked muscles felt good to Juno. It worked towards pushing everything else down, drown out the bullshit going through her mind pretty much at all times. Beads of sweat had been running down her spine for hours, the smallest strands of hair glued to her forehead and that smell she had always equated to some kind of moist ground dust had started to emanate from her body. She was going to need a long ass shower tonight.

But it felt good, it felt so good that it was almost like what she imagined a drug-induced trance to feel like. The prospect - dream, really - of landing this job for good along with Hush and becoming roommates out of the slums until the other shoe dropped had really only worked for a limited amount of time. After the high of wonder and fertile imagination had wore off - some time the day after they had gotten the idea - real life had come back to her in full force. And so had realism. The odds had always been stacked against them slum kids, against her even more so. To say things were unlikely to go exactly as they seemed to wish them to (and she still couldn't believe, after everything, that Hush did) was an understatement. Not for the first time this month, maybe week, Juno had had to pull herself back down to earth. Drag herself, more like. Kicking and screaming, rude awakenings everywhere, but it was working. And today, she had managed to keep leveled by drowning it all out. No fluffy dreams, no harsh reality. Just the boulder in front of her.

( Everything louder, louder )

Who: Asher and Oz
Where: The hospital
When: Early morning
Warnings: Not very many

( what the hell was the Council thinking? )

Friday, January 20^th, 2215

Weather: Very sunny conditions, but no great change in temperatures. Supposedly a major storm is coming sometime this weekend, but you’d never be able to tell today.

Events: After the antics caused by Saito’s sympathizers yesterday, many are nervous as to what today might hold in store. As it turns out? Nothing. Security is tightened all around the city, and nothing unusual seems to occur.

The big political debate between Councilman Kieran Sullivan and his challenger, Maxwell Wallace is tonight at 6. The event is open to the public at city hall, but space is extremely limited. Luckily enough, the debate is televised.

Under normal circumstances, the citizens of Haven might not care much about such a thing. The debate is a formality; it is still highly unlikely that Wallace could ever unseat Sullivan. But with recent events, there’s a bit more interest. The crowd to get in to see the debate is a bit larger, and many are turned away. It’s perhaps all the more interesting considering how extremely popular both Sullivan and Wallace are. Sullivan is one of the crowd favorites of the Council - he has a friendly image, comes from humble beginnings, and is often regarded as an honest to goodness war hero. While many members of the Council are intimidating and unapproachable, Sullivan is one that you might want to have a beer with after work. At the same time, Wallace is incredibly popular within the ungifted population and in the slums. His platform is equal rights for ungifted citizens, and should he be elected, he aims to see an eighth chair placed on the Council - one to be filled by an ungifted to represent their own people.

Obviously this matter is talked about a great deal in the debate. Sullivan seems sympathetic to the issue, but does have several sensible arguments. The greatest of them being, quite simply, even if Wallace was elected, the rest of the Council would have the power to out-vote him on the matter. No one man is going to change the system by himself; Haven is and always has been ruled by a group, and not an individual. Sullivan quite charmingly suggests that Wallace is trying to buy his seat with promises he knows he could never keep. Wallace responds by saying even if he could not manage the feat on his own, at least the ungifted populace would know they have an ally on the Council - a luxury they have never been concretely able to claim before. Sullivan also points out the old standard argument - Haven was formed by individuals of each cohort banding together and creating a safe place. In the event of another cataclysm, ungifteds have much less to offer, and must be cared for and protected. He also throws some simple math into the matter - an eighth seat on the Council could lead to a great deal of deadlocking, as it would become possible for the Council to tie on official matters.

As expected, the subject of a 16-year-old bandit girl recently liberated is brought up as well. Both candidates are in agreement that any child that can be saved should be saved. Sullivan confirms that this has always been their military policy, and have always gone by threat level, and not an actual age. At that point, Wallace drops a bomb on the crowd.

Oh no, not literally. Figuratively. He floors everyone listening by suggesting that Haven should offer terms of peace to any individual born to bandits.

”Not every living soul on the other side of the wall is a criminal. In fact, at this point I would say that the majority of those living in the wild - the bandits and so-called ‘Diaspora’ - are the children and grandchildren of those first men and women that managed to survive exile. These people have never set foot in Haven, are strangers to our ways, and guilty only of being born. They did not choose the circumstances of their birth, for if they had, I believe they most certainly would have chosen to be born in Haven, to law-abiding citizens. These newer generations continue to fight not against an enemy, but for their own survival. I believe that terms should be offered. Any human born over the wall, but wishing us no ill, should be allowed to surrender themselves to our justice, our kindness, our mercy, and prove themselves to be beneficial to society.”

He goes on to say that any bandit that continues to take up arms against them should be absolutely obliterated, but the statement is still shocking to the majority of Haven. Kieran Sullivan himself is practically stunned to silence. Those watching the event on television can hear the stunned and in some cases angry objections of the audience, and the moderator has to fight to silence them again. The idea of reintegrating adult bandits is unheard of in Haven. To most, it would be considered a threat to their security and safety. But Wallace has planted the seed of doubt in more than a few minds. There is great risk there, but logic as well.

The election is in ten days. At the end of the debate, bookies begin officially taking bets as to the outcome, offering Wallace surprisingly good odds, considering.