Allanea
17-04-2005, 20:50
IC:
Mars, In Front of the Duma
George Wallews was a young man of only seventeen - he has not even finished highschool. It did not matter - he was an adult, and could afford a cheap ticket to Mars. In his past, he was a little bit 'geekish', even for Allanea, spending most of his time writing or reading, posting on political forums and even having his own blog - which was so famous that he was accredited as a reporter on the Democratic Party National Convention. Still, Wallews was not exactly the most sociable type you can imagine - pale, skinny, thick glasses, the works. Now, he was little bit pale, shaking as if preparing to give an important speech. It was, in fact, exactly that - the most important speech in his life.
Next to Wallews walked Squireeek - a penguin-like being belonging to a race known as Dohwar. A former commercial pilot from Nova-Texas, Squireek was enticed by Wallews' cause after reading about the fate of the oppressed - reading about it, a lot - on long, interstellar trips. Months of loneliness will give you a lot of time to think - about the things you did wrong and about the things you failed to do. Eventually, you come to understand that those things are often one and the same - to fail to do right is to do wrong. Squireek was calm about what was going to happen - he carried a digital camera in his flipper-like arms, which continuously broadcasted the proceedings on the groups' WorldNet site.
The third one was a woman, a fattish blonde who used to work in a coal mine in Aissur. How she got into it, nobody could tell. But here she was, standing next to George on the steps in front of the Duma building, helping him to unravel a huge cloth handwritten banner, laying it out in front of the Duma building. It was simple - three words only - Khristian Independence Now!. It was written in a red paint on white. As the banner moved slightly under the wind, it seemed the words were written in blood.
Wallews spoke, holding a large loudspeaker:
Emissaries of the Duma! I address you today - not as an Allanean - not as a politician - not as an activist - but as a sapient being like you. I will today speak to you of a great injustice. The suffering of the Khristian people. The massacred thousands on Mars. The millions of refugees from the Mercury Experiment. You say, now, that you granted them a home? Where is it? Are those living under Daedalian, Tarasovkan, or any other occupation, free? Are those who have been denied of their very home free?
You know what I am talking about, don't you? Of the massacres, the injustices, the cruel experiments on unwilling flesh, of all those things. I need not explain. If I need, those are the documents.
Wallews made a few step forwards, laying a large binder down on the steps before him. Behind him, the penguinoid put his camera on a tripod. Then, it ran forwards, pouring a strange liquid on itself, the woman, and Wallews.
I said it all. I know your conscience will do the rest - I trust in you. But if the suffering of sapient souls is hard to remember when it happens far away - then what will now happen in front of your very eyes will serve you as a reminder.
Then, in front of an audience of hundreds of Duma attendees, and thousands of Internet visitors, Wallews extradited a small steel object from his sleeve - a Zippo lighter. The woman reached for her pocket, and so did the penguinoid. In a second, the viewers saw the banner lit by a new light - the light of three living torches standing next to it from different angles.
OOC: None of those people are ICly in any relation to the Allanean Government. Just so you know.
Mars, In Front of the Duma
George Wallews was a young man of only seventeen - he has not even finished highschool. It did not matter - he was an adult, and could afford a cheap ticket to Mars. In his past, he was a little bit 'geekish', even for Allanea, spending most of his time writing or reading, posting on political forums and even having his own blog - which was so famous that he was accredited as a reporter on the Democratic Party National Convention. Still, Wallews was not exactly the most sociable type you can imagine - pale, skinny, thick glasses, the works. Now, he was little bit pale, shaking as if preparing to give an important speech. It was, in fact, exactly that - the most important speech in his life.
Next to Wallews walked Squireeek - a penguin-like being belonging to a race known as Dohwar. A former commercial pilot from Nova-Texas, Squireek was enticed by Wallews' cause after reading about the fate of the oppressed - reading about it, a lot - on long, interstellar trips. Months of loneliness will give you a lot of time to think - about the things you did wrong and about the things you failed to do. Eventually, you come to understand that those things are often one and the same - to fail to do right is to do wrong. Squireek was calm about what was going to happen - he carried a digital camera in his flipper-like arms, which continuously broadcasted the proceedings on the groups' WorldNet site.
The third one was a woman, a fattish blonde who used to work in a coal mine in Aissur. How she got into it, nobody could tell. But here she was, standing next to George on the steps in front of the Duma building, helping him to unravel a huge cloth handwritten banner, laying it out in front of the Duma building. It was simple - three words only - Khristian Independence Now!. It was written in a red paint on white. As the banner moved slightly under the wind, it seemed the words were written in blood.
Wallews spoke, holding a large loudspeaker:
Emissaries of the Duma! I address you today - not as an Allanean - not as a politician - not as an activist - but as a sapient being like you. I will today speak to you of a great injustice. The suffering of the Khristian people. The massacred thousands on Mars. The millions of refugees from the Mercury Experiment. You say, now, that you granted them a home? Where is it? Are those living under Daedalian, Tarasovkan, or any other occupation, free? Are those who have been denied of their very home free?
You know what I am talking about, don't you? Of the massacres, the injustices, the cruel experiments on unwilling flesh, of all those things. I need not explain. If I need, those are the documents.
Wallews made a few step forwards, laying a large binder down on the steps before him. Behind him, the penguinoid put his camera on a tripod. Then, it ran forwards, pouring a strange liquid on itself, the woman, and Wallews.
I said it all. I know your conscience will do the rest - I trust in you. But if the suffering of sapient souls is hard to remember when it happens far away - then what will now happen in front of your very eyes will serve you as a reminder.
Then, in front of an audience of hundreds of Duma attendees, and thousands of Internet visitors, Wallews extradited a small steel object from his sleeve - a Zippo lighter. The woman reached for her pocket, and so did the penguinoid. In a second, the viewers saw the banner lit by a new light - the light of three living torches standing next to it from different angles.
OOC: None of those people are ICly in any relation to the Allanean Government. Just so you know.