Marn Restoration Gala - Ascension

[Talia Idris]

"That seriously hmm?" Talia hummed as she stared into an empty teacup. "Who knew that something so seemingly simple is so important to some people."

She nodded along to what Tius was saying, trying to appear interested even though the last things she wanted to discuss was what their hostess was saying and how everyone was reacting to it. Her regret about coming to the gala only seemed to be growing. Her body ached and she knew that she probably was going to be sporting some new bruises tomorrow, if they weren't already showing. She didn't even want to imagine the damage that was done to her dress or even her hair! In response to that thought Talia reached a hand up to push some loose tendrils behind her ears, finally smiling as Tius changed the subject back to the tea.

Her fingers grazed Tius' as she eagerly reached for the proffered cup. "You have no idea! I am sure it could taste awful and it would be the finest thing in the world to me right now. Not that I have any doubt in your tea making skills, certainly they are much better then mine. Although you shouldn't go by what I say, I tend to be the type of person who makes a cup of tea or coffee, forgets about it but still drinks it three hours later. And now I am going to stop blabbering and enjoy my drink." Talia said, cheeks burning as she bit her tongue to keep herself from going on. She didn't know if she was nervous or stressed or perhaps having some sort of break down but either way she was certain she was embarrassing herself.

Looking around Talia surveyed the room briefly. Finding a lack of chairs she shrugged and simply sunk to the floor, folding her legs to the side underneath her skirt in an attempt at a ladylike pose. Raising the teacup to her lips she blew softly on the steaming liquid before taking a modest sip. Closing her eyes Talia sighed happily, the warm beverage sliding like silk over her tongue and down her throat, warming her from the inside.

"Well it passes my test at the very least. Please, pull up a bit of floor and join me for a cup before we adjourn to the gala as humble servers." Talia said with a mocking air of sophistication as she took another sip. "I suppose you should be the one to pull the good doctor aside. I am sure she would listen to you if you were to tell her to take a moments break and refresh herself. Last I saw it appeared that all the major issues had been dealt with. Meanwhile I can serve the rest of the room." And then I probably should leave - she wanted to add but instead looked into her cup as she took another sip. She had a feeling if she mentioned that, he would either insist she stay, something she wasn't too keen on, or insist that he escort her home, in which case she would feel guilty dragging him away. She wasn't so useful when it came to medical issues beyond a small burn while Tius clearly had some sort of training and would be of much more use staying here and helping out.

[Vicentius]

Tius smiled his wintry smile at Talia's nervousness and waited for her to settle herself. She was covering it well, but she was still itching to be elsewhere. He couldn't blame her; these events weren't for everyone at the best of times. Throw in a bombing and well... a warm bed and familiar surroundings were very appealing. But Tius was afraid that if this went on for too long, his home city would become very unfamiliar to him. As she sipped her tea, he put the politics from his mind for a moment and poured himself a cup, refilling the kettle and setting it back down to boil. He raised an eyebrow as she fidgeted with her appearance. He was well aware that he looked like a mugging victim himself, with his missing sleeves and bloodied clothes, and he wasn't looking forward to the walk home. The guard needed little excuse to hassle people at the best of times and tonight... It just didn't bear thinking about.

"Thank you for the offer, kind lady," he said, kneeling with his cup, "but I'm not letting you sneak off that easily. I think the good doctor would rather see a friendly face right now. Unless you want to try and calm the raging beasts out there?"

He smiled to show he was joking and sipped his tea quietly, swirling the hot liquid around in his mouth. It was a little strong for his tastes, but it would do the job. Taking another sip, he stretched slightly and met Talia's gaze, the feel of her fingers on his lingering in his mind. He could still hear the rumblings of conversation from the main hall, but for the moment, he could believe it was distant and someone else's problem. Well, if he didn't think too hard about it that was. Still, he had a hot drink and good company, and for that he was willing to put politics aside for a while. Swirling the tea in his hands, he smiled, eyes twinkling.

"You know, I thought tonight was going to be a waste of time," he said, "thank you for proving me wrong."

He took another sip and glanced around the room, taking in the destruction. In truth, the kitchen had come out far better than the main hall. Most of the damage was from panicked running and reckless abandonment. Still, someone would have a hard job putting everything back in its place. The kettle began whistling again and he got up to put it on a lower heat and returned to his place. The heat from the stove washed over his back and leaked through the stone floor at his knees. He took his cup in both hands and had an odd sensation of deja vu.

"This brings back a few memories," he said, taking another sip. "Changers, I hated not having chairs."

[Talia Idris]

"Are you saying you don't have a friendly face?" Talia teased, the tea having lifted her spirits a bit. "But if you insist. And I will try not to sneak off....at least not without saying good bye. Although I don't know how much longer I am going to be able to stay. I have to work tomorrow after all." Her gaze dropped to her cup as she lied, Bepa had already given her a mandatory day off to 'recover' from any 'antics' that she might have been up to at the Gala.

"Well I felt like this was going to be a rather....explosive event so how could I have missed it?" As the words came out of her mouth a shocked look came over her face as she realized it probably was too soon to be joking about it. Looking around quickly she was relieved that no one beside Tius had heard her otherwise someone may have decided to blame her for the events of the evening.

Sipping the last few drop of tea, Talia rolled her shoulders backs to try to get the kinks out before standing up. She started to brush her skirt off but gave up after looking down. Walking over to the sink she started washing her cup for the next person to use.

"It sounds like you have some interesting memories." Talia said over her shoulder as she rinsed. "I've never been out of the city, well no farther then Shim of course. There." Placing the dried up on the tray she looked over at Tius and smiled. "If the tea is a success then perhaps we will have to come back here and raid the cupboards for more cups but I suppose for now this would have to do. I suppose I am ready to face the masses if you are?"

[Camulous Smithson]

Camulous understood how games of chicken worked. He played them all the time with the worst sorts of people. Violent criminals, murderers, monsters, self destructive alcoholics, junkies... people challenged his authority regularly. Force was the only answer he had for the worst of them. The liberal application of force beyond what they expected. It was a last resort that was, none the less, always on the table. Winning a game of chicken meant being able to survive the aftermath. It meant being stronger. It was the only way he knew to deal with such a challenge, and a manipulative would-be politician like Navarre was no different.

Beneath his tight lips a part of the captain fumed. The temptation to throw Navarre's impudent little body to the ground and throttle her was clearly there. What kept him from doing so was the knowledge that beyond words, she was helpless. Much like her hired thugs had nothing but posturing tactics, she had no leverage. He waited for her to finish the speech, and then spoke only to her.

"That's right."

He approached again, apathetic toward the emotions of her supporters while they fumed and murmured. Did Navarre hope they would riot? These spoon fed, white collar socialites? They wouldn't survive the repercussions.

Having the audacity to openly fight against the Marnian guard would give Camulous all the mandate he needed to put an end to not only Navarre, but everyone around her. He wanted to see them try. There was no room for anyone who would willingly disturb social order in his mind. They would be killed or thrown before the judges, and Navarre would lose her social capital once they were gone.

"You heard me perfectly. Now put your hands on your head, and get on your knees. I won't ask twice."

He stared at her fiercely, knowing guardsmen would be pouring in toward the sound of explosions from around the city. Camulous was hoping for permission for a very liberal application of force.

[Navarre]

Her years masquerading as a crime lord left her with a low opinion of guards. The uniforms changed over the decades, but the smug self-confidence always remained. Armed against reason, they acted on their convictions without considering consequences. Camulous was no different. She doubted her little speech would've made him stand down, but its message was clear: he was now an enemy of her movement.

As much as she wanted to instigate a riot, this fool wasn't worth undoing all her hard work. Finding a position in Marn's government was still a possibility; she had to cooperate for now. No matter what side of the conflict she joined in the end, she'd make a public example of Camulous. It was only a matter of time.

Navarre smiled at Camulous as she lowered herself to her knees and placed her hands behind her head. Immediately her followers began jeering and shouting at Camulous. Someone in the crowd threw an orange at him, just barely missing his face. Before the situation could escalate any further, Navarre spoke up loudly: “Behave yourselves. If you are unhappy with Captain Smithson's decision, express your discontent through the proper channels. We do not need this after such a tragedy.”

The shouts died down into murmuring. “As I said, I will gladly cooperate with your investigation. You may not think highly of me, Captain, but surely you understand I have nothing to gain by assaulting my own supporters. Either way, I defer to your judgment.”

“Step aside!” Alexander said sternly as he pushed his way through the crowd. He walked up to Camulous and Navarre, giving the former a look of outrage and disbelief. “Captain Smithson! I am appalled at this blatant abuse of power. In all my years supporting the Guard, sending my children and grandchildren into its ranks, never would I have imagined it capable of such unprofessionalism. I have half a mind to - “

“Alexander, stand down. Captain Smithson has made his decision – and I am certain he understands its ramifications. I will be fine. I will meet with you at your manner once this ugly business is finished.”

“No, I will say my peace,” Alexander snapped, glaring at Camulous. “Using a monumental loss of life as an excuse to arrest someone over political differences... I cannot believe it. This isn't the organization I once proudly served.”

“Enough,” Navarre said sternly.

Alexander took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. “I will be accompanying Navarre. I will ensure she cooperates, but you will not treat her as a common criminal. If a single hair on her head is harmed, I will see to it that House Marquelis withdraws all its support for the Guard by morning.”

[Metarie]

Ree felt dizzy. Dizzy enough to sit back on her haunches and look around. Her thigh throbbed. She managed to catch the tail-end of Alexander's comment. Help from the hospital still had not arrived, which clued her in that whatever happened here was not an isolated incident. What was happening? The world had gone to chaos around her and she felt helpless in ways she hadn't since she was a child.

What was Cam doing? There were people who needed help.

"Doctor... doctor, please..." Ree's attention was pulled away from the scene Alexander, Camulous, and Isyrion made near the front of the room. The more people saw how well the magic healing helped remove the pain, the more people wanted it. Ree obliged.

More guards appeared, apparently the guard had mobilized as would be expected in a situation like this. One of the guards posted must have gone for re-enforcements. Four guards moved in her direction, too, these were equipped with medical kits. The first responders had finally arrived. A sense of relief and gratefulness washed through her. Thank Teodinus!

"No, no, no..." Ree waved off the one who tried to see to her. "There... we have a triage. Minister Markus is here, too, I'm sure he's on the other side doing the same thing. Two there, two here and we can make much better progress. Is the hospital intact?" Ree was afraid to hear the answer and another wave of relief washed through her as the guard affirmed its viability.

"Yes, Doctor. The emergency room is full and all hands are working."

"So, there were other incidents..."

"Yes, ma'am. The Civic Court was hit hard. Memorial Park and the Justice Center, too. Numbers are still coming in. Please let me treat your injuries, ma'am."

Tears welled in Ree's eyes, but she wiped them away. "Monsters!" She said under her breath. Ree shook her head and moved to stand. "There are others with more dangerous injuries than mine. Please, see to them first." The med-tech was torn. She was a Descendent, the Doctor, and his Captain was dating her.

Ree's pulse thumped in her ears and a sort of tunnel vision made her blink repeatedly. Cam was the focal point, but the edges of her vision seemed to be fuzzy with black, a black that seemed to be encroaching. The sound of sand pouring filled her ears. Ree's eyes widened and she reached out toward the med-tech.

"I'm going to...magic OK..."

She crumpled. To Ree, it seemed everything had slowed down before everything just shut down. Blood-loss and magic-use had taken its toll. Though she had bound the cut, the constant movement of standing, kneeling, and walking ensured it wouldn't close. The gash was deeper and more serious than she'd let on and a few larger pieces of crockery had been firmly embedded in the meat of her leg, coupled with pieces of fabric from her skirt.

The med-tech caught her and bore her to the ground. Folding a nearby tablecloth as a makeshift pillow, he tore the skirt further, to expose the make-shift bandage Ree'd given herself. The work was neat and tidy, but the bandage was soaked through. Checking Ree's pulse, he found it thready at best. Magic might be ok, but he did not possess any to speak of.

Opening the med kit, he pulled out a tourniquet to staunch the flow of blood. A saline rinse was used to flush the gash and expose the pieces of flower pot. A deftly applied needle provided local anesthesia. Then, came the tools to hold the skin open and extract the debris. More blood spurted, releasing the built-up pressure from behind the pieces. More rinse was applied until he could see enough to begin suturing.

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"Captain, Sergeant Anyr and Squad Nine reporting for duty. Commander Oslun has declared martial law. A curfew is in effect for all non-injured citizens. Injured citizens are to be triaged and treated. What are your orders, Sir!"

Sergeant Anyr gauged the room. He was a loyal guardsman and viewed the Captain in the high-regard that most did. Granted, there were always dissenters and trouble-makers. Anyr had arrived on the heels of Alexander's threat. He'd heard it, but didn't know what it meant or if it even mattered.

``````

"Minister Markus, we're here to assist." The two med-techs immediately began supporting Guile's efforts, providing the contents of their med-kits and their skills. One of them focused on Guile. "Sir, your injuries need to be tended."

[Vicentius]

Tius swirled his tea around in his cup before draining it in one scorching gulp. Rising, he rinsed his cup out and crossed to where Talia was standing, wincing as the motion reminded him of all the little aches he was trying to ignore. Still, to judge by the sounds from the main chamber, he felt that aches and cuts were the least of their worries. Isyrion and Smithson had been having words when they left, but he doubted that had escalated. The upper classes were spectators more than participators in his experience, so actual violence was unlikely as long as bitter recrimination would suffice.

"You'd be amazed how little and how much things can change the further you go," he said, checking the crockery, "but people are people no matter where you stand."

Which was quite a sad truth, now that he stopped to think about it, but a lot like life. It was part of the reason he stayed in Marn; if the rest of the world could adapt and overcome, then surely his homeland could do the same. But so few of its people had eyes for the word beyond the walls. Some people considered Shim to be a foreign town, which was a mind-boggling idea for him. Still, it made them depressingly predictable at times, and he could work with that. The fun started once he'd realized that everyone else could too. Hefting a tray, he squared his shoulders, put on his least offensive smile and turned to Talia.

"Is this friendly enough?"

He adjusted his expression slightly, adopting a more concerned pose.

"Or should I go with polite, slightly puzzled concern?"

Winking to show he was joking, he relaxed his posture slightly and shrugged, moving towards the door. The tray was heavy and warm in his hands, clinking as he moved. Waiting a moment for Talia to catch up, he gave her as warm and encouraging a smile as he could muster. The important thing to remember was that these people all wanted the same thing; for this to go away. So with a smile and a pleasant tone of voice, one could paper over the worst concerns before anyone panicked. At least, that was the theory at any rate. Life had seldom been so obliging to Tius.

"Well, chin up," he said, stepping back out.

Wincing again as the wall of noise hit him, he maintained his smile and took a quick glance around the room. Not much had changed, but people were pouring in from the streets. No, he corrected himself, not just people; Guardsmen. Suddenly things were getting a lot more tense. He caught snatches of conversation, status reports and a lot of distressing phrases like serious casualties and martial law. As he looked around, a number of Guardsmen approached Sekhara, who proceeded to collapse. Some others approached Minister Markus. Smithson, augmented by more Guards, was standing over Isyrion, who was kneeling with her hands behind her head, while Alexander Marquelis stood by her protectively. He couldn't tell what had been said, but his stance left little to the imagination. Tius glanced back at Talia.

"I was wrong," he said, "you probably had the right idea. Keep smiling, steady gaze."

So saying, he strode out into the crowd, trailing steam and the smell of good tea like a cloak as he went. Holding his tray like a shield, he made a beeline for Isyrion and the Captain, hoping that he looked like a big enough idiot to be disarming. Stopping just short of them, he looked Alexander in the eye and shook his head.

"We all applaud your intentions, sir," he said, pleasantly, but firmly, "but as a known supporter of the Lady Isyrion, your objectivity is in question. In the interest of impartiality and fairness, it should be a neutral party who accompanies her ladyship, if the Captain permits it. I volunteer. As a representative of the Ministry of Civil Obedience, I am a neutral party and can be trusted."

He smiled again.

"Please, give me a moment to bring this to Minister Markus and Doctor Sekhara and I will be ready to go."

[Talia Idris]

Talia chuckled, their light conversation bringing back memories from earlier that night, a time that seemed so distant from where they currently stood. She turned to follow Tius out of the kitchen, speaking as she went. "You know I can hold the tray, I am used to carrying large bags of flour and big bowls of dough you know. I am not so used to pouring tea for the social elites who may possible pitch a fit because I poured from the left side not the right." She stopped joking as her gazed followed Tius' around the room. He probably was picking up more then she could but from that she could see, things weren't exactly getting better.


She continued to follow Tius until she realized where he was headed. Pausing she looked uncertainly around her. Perhaps he fit in this crowd but she certainly didn't and there was no way she was going to get herself mixed up in what was going on unless she absolutely had too. Although she couldn't help but admire Tius for what he was offering.

[Camulous Smithson]

Obeying him was, in all likelihood, the wisest decision Navarre could have made. His temporary victory over her was bittersweet, as he knew it would be the moment she started to kneel. He'd hoped she lacked the resolve to swallow her pride and that it would be her undoing. Navarre was turning out to be too clever for that. As he looked her in the eyes, he knew he'd made yet another enemy. If she could see it in him, she'd know he was used to it.

Camulous instinctively pulled out of the way of an oncoming orange thrown from the crowd. His right hand assisted it to the ground with a swat. He had to resist the temptation to seek out whoever threw it. Even with several of them blown to shreds and others groping around in bloody ruins for loved ones, Navarre's camarilla were relentless with their disgraceful behaviour. Spoiled children, all of them.

Someone Camulous barely recognized, Alexander Marquelis - a figure involved in the University with some history with the guard, approached and attempted to chide him on his behaviour during an arrest. It was another surprising affront to the rule of law and to Camulous' honour. Arrests were not up for discussion during the fact. Camulous gave him such a look of heated scrutiny it could have melted steel. The self importance of these people knew no bounds. His children's children indeed.

The captain was a split second from grabbing Alexander by the collar when the bulk of the guardsmen began to arrive, storming through what was left of the entrance. About a dozen of them led the way, followed by two dozen more. While the first group vanished among string of wounded people and properly secured and scouted the area, the second pushed their way past and into the main foyer of the gala where they could see Camulous and the others.

With them the guards brought medics, who were quick to pick up the triage that Metarie had helped establish, and Ryxa, a battlemage who appeared completely independent from the flurry of activity around her. Attractively done up in tight fitting armor, painted lips, and eyes accented with kohl, Ryxa appeared disinterested in everything going on, barely giving two glances to the carnage around. She knew there was nothing left for her unless things changed, such as if a riot broke out. She was expected to "investigate" but had no motivation for doing so. The guards would do their own investigation. The thought of giving aid to some disgusting blood covered stranger repulsed her, and everyone who saw her gave her a wide berth.

Camulous looked at Alexander as a heavy set guardsman with plainly human features hidden beneath a helmet ran to his side. It was Timon, fifth rank Sergeant of the Watch on duty that evening, and he had a neck thick enough to be Camulous' thigh. He pulled up beside his captain with a guttural "sir".

Again Camulous was about to speak, this time his mouth already halfway open, when Vincentius showed up at a somewhat alarming speed that put Timon on edge. He confronted Alexander on Camulous' behalf, and then offered to accompany Navarre in his stead. Now things were getting strange, and he didn't know what to make of their motives. Why were people trying so hard to join Navarre in jail? Since when did a neutral party need to be present during an arrest? When did Navarre become so coveted that she was due special treatment?

"Take Navarre into custody," he said to Timon, still looking in Alexander's direction, "and don't tolerate interference. I want this place sorted out quickly. Get the wounded to the hospital and arrest anyone putting up resistance."

Then, anticipating some objection from either Vincentius or Alexander, or both, he added "If you want to join her in jail, it's not hard to get there."

Timon was grateful not to have to be in the captains' shoes when it came to dealing with politics. He interjected, "Sir, you're gonna wanna get outside. They're patching Ree up and it looks bad."

With a grimace, Camulous reached up to press a palm against the cut on his forehead, and started walking away, ignoring everyone. Timon grabbed Navarre's arm with a hand that could easily wrap clean around her bicep, and said "Come on."

[Metarie]

The wound was ugly and jagged, exacerbated by removing the larger pieces. Ree's breathing was shallow and fast, her color was pale. A sheen of sweat covered her skin. Blood was spattered on her dress and streaked on her skin. The bodice of the dress was still intact, but the skirt was beyond repair. One shoe was gone, lost somewhere amidst the bodies and wreckage.

She'd been arranged as neatly as possible given the circumstances. The tightness of the bandage had allowed her to help many over a substantial amount of time, now it was her turn.

Nearby people murmured or moaned in pain. Some watched, wide-eyed, as the guard doctor work on the doctor until they were escorted away for further medical help at the hospital or one of the satellite clinics. The stitching took time. It would leave a scar. This night would leave a scar on everyone.

Within her subconscious, Ree fought to regain her consciousness. There was too much too do, too many people needed help.

She was drowning in blood. Everything was red. She hated not being there, not being able to do anything. But she was so tired. So tired.

She was thirsty. Why was she so thirsty? Why was she so cold? Had she gone into ...

"She's going into shock! I need someone to cover her up and hold her still!" The guard spoke loudly, seeking support from his team. The team was busy with others. Gritting his teeth, he quickly worked to finish suturing the wound closed.

You did what you could with what you had. That was drilled into their heads in every training session. Guardsman Donwell Nahie was on his own, though. There were six medics in the room and he was working on one of them.

"Ok, Dr. Sehkhara," he muttered, "You better listen to me. I know a lotta people who need you. So, you can't go nowhere, right. Don't you die on me." Donwell didn't know if the doctor could hear him or not and he didn't care who did. The doctor's skin was chilled. There was blood up to her elbows. The skirt of her dress was nearly black and had begun to stiffen as the blood on it dried. Most of the blood above her thigh wasn't even hers. The next thing Donwell knew, someone was tucking Ree up in tablecloths turned blankets.

"Thanks."

Donwell looked up to find it was the Captain. Donwell almost froze when the Captain's gaze fixed on his. The look in the Captain's gaze was empty and hard. The gash on the Captain's head had left a sticky mess on the man's face, clotting blood in his eyelashes. The man didn't ask how Ree was, if she'd make it. He didn't even tell Donwell to do it right.

"C-captain."

The Captain held Donwell's gaze for another second, then just got up and left. Donwell knew the man had memorized his face. If the Captain hadn't known him well before, he sure did now.

"Seriously, Doc. You better pull through or I'm a dead man." This was muttered as Donwell finished up the last stitch. Now to cover it. Two additional guardsmen appeared, carrying a stretcher.

"The medwagon is out front."

"She's passed out. I'd recommend one of you stay by her. The Captain didn't look too pleased to see her down." The three shared a look and one of them nodded.

"I'll do it."

Donwell felt a sense of relief. "I'll check on her later, when I'm done here." And, with that, Donwell moved off. The doctor's triage model worked well. The noise and the panic had begun to die down. Now, was the time for tremors and shock, soft murmurs of disbelief punctuated by moans of pain. He'd trained for this, but nothing could have prepared him for it. Nothing but experience he'd never had.

Those who could notice, did when the doctor was carried out past them on a stretcher. Darli Reshenska did and ended up calling Ree a hero in the late edition. It was probably well that Navarre and her men had already been escorted to visit Fort Omenbryn. Otherwise, Ree might not have made it to the hospital at all.

[Metarie]

Talia and Vincentius continue here: http://www.tharshaddin.com/rp/viewtopic.php?f=6&t=3653

Metarie, Guile, Camulous, and Azuel continue here: http://www.tharshaddin.com/rp/viewtopic ... 669#p42410

Lorenna (NPC), Luca, and Jacel continue here: http://www.tharshaddin.com/rp/viewtopic.php?f=6&t=3668

Navarre continues here: (TBD)