Tales from Kyoto IC

[Julian84]

GRMM (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cm4QpXevKO8&list=PLSwp-DAqmwVh0OWC5vT7lvKlBV48Sn-8y&index=11)

The date was March 26th, 2017 in the Imperial Calendar. After seven years of ironclad rule by the Britannian Empire, the colony of Area 11 was shocked by a sudden tragedy that no one had anticipated. On a the clear, chill afternoon of March 23rd, Prince Clovis la Britannia the Viceroy of Area 11 had died at the hands of a lone gunman. The suspect in the crime was an Honorary Britannian named Suzaku Kururugi, an up-jumped Eleven in the military who had killed the prince out of spite after a murky incident in the Shinjuku ghetto north of Tokyo. In the wake of this incident, a faction of nobility called the Purebloods had seized power in Tokyo until the crown appointed a new viceroy. Their leader, Jeremiah Gottwald, was rabidly xenophobic even in comparison to the normally racist Britannians, and had called for the expulsion of all non-Britannians from the military. The tragedy of Prince Clovis was especially harsh, since two members of the royal family had been killed in Japan during the war… Much blood had been spilt on this soil and the Britannians thirsted for revenge.

https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-JnHLEoaP5M0/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAY/BltyvjeXEUE/w800-h800/photo.jpg

The students of Brandenburg Academy in Kyoto stand in solemn order, mourning the loss of the great prince. For years since the fall of Japan he had ruled with grace and charm, working effortlessly to restore the ruined nation to a polished shine as the gem of the empire in the Pacific. He had been much adored for his sophisticated ideals, art, music, and dedication to the people of Britannia. Adonis Miravis, the Head Boy of Brandenburg, addressed the assembled student body with a soberly written speech.

“My fellow students… I struggle to think of a tragedy like the one that causes us to gather here this day.” He intones, his fist clenched over his chest in the traditional salute of Britannia. “But we cannot succumb to despair! Truly this has been a painful incident for all of us! The viceroy of Area 11, our beloved Prince Clovis, has been lost to us forever. However, we can and will bear the weight of this tragedy, and from this darkest of hours, we will draw strength!” Tears flow openly down the handsome boy’s cheeks. “We must never forget that the strength of lions flows in our veins, the fire of victory inflames our hearts! We must march ever onward to conquest and victory, no matter the cost!” He smiles beatifically, looking to the ceiling. “ALL HAIL BRITANNIA!” He chants, leading the student body in the refrain. “ALL HAIL BRITANNIA!”

For those few students who were honorary Britannians or elevens selected to be trained for the bureaucracy, it was a tense moment. Many of the other students didn't bother to veil their disapproving stares, hoping that the Elevens would feel skewered under the pressure.

[gremlin-pult]

As the crowd chanted, Emilio stood silently, watching those around him. Dios mio... This is just horrible... He thought to himself. He'd never had much interest in who his leader was, whether back home or here. But the prince's death was just tragic. He'd been one of those leaders who really cared about his people. Letting out a sorrowful sigh, Emilio felt his shoulders slump as he watched the tension between the elevens and... well, pretty much everyone else. He didn't really blame them for what happened. He did blame the idiot who actually pulled the trigger, though. That guy had made things so much worse for everyone, including his own kinsmen.
"Haah, why's it always the good ones that move on early?..." He muttered to no one in particular.

[Grim ranger]

God damnit, but this guy loves to hear himself talk. I wonder how many times he practiced this in front of a mirror back home.

Vincent's dull and downright bored look was rather at odds with the severity of the goings-on, but anyone who knew the rather lazy student was not likely going to be very surprised by the fact. As far as one's academic career was concerned, Vincent was one of the students who had never seemingly cared all too much. Quite a lazy dreamer with downright terrible luck and school-wide infamy for avoiding being a dropout by the skin of his teeth, he was one of the few who might not be branded by being visibly uncaring during such an important occasion... mostly due to already being noted down as a borderline hopeless case anyhow.

Letting out slight yawn, he glanced at the clock, wondering whenever or not he'd have time to relax today still. With any luck they would be shooed away from school for the day, but there was always the chance someone would have some sort of brilliant idea to show their devotion to the dearly departed prince by arranging some overtly complicated ceremony that nobody would know of beyond the school anyhow. Were that to happen, he had every intention of just sneaking away for the duration: there were other things he could waste the afternoon on to be certain... Such as a nice nap.

So get this over with already you grandiose bastard, he mentally urged Adonis while dryly mouthing off the chant in imitation of the fanatic devotion the boy seemed to exhibit, the gesture just shy of being downright insulting. I could bet you my entire wallet that at least one third of people here could not care less.

[JohnTheSavage]

Usagi Mori was feeling conflicted, uncomfortable and nervous as she stood amongst the students, fidgeting and ever-so-slightly bobbing up and down. On one hand, she was genuinely sad at the Prince's passing. Usagi never paid politics much mind but Clovis had always seemed very nice. Why did he have to die? Why couldn't everyone just get along? But then, on the other had, Usagi could feel the gaze of many of the Britannian students on her. I just want them to leave me alone! The Britannian students had always had it out for her. She was the eleven-iest of elevens at the school and her distinctive appearance only made her stand out even more. Do I look sad enough? Do I look nervous? I must! I can't look nervous or they'll all think I'm hiding something!

Usagi hung her head, letting her long hair cover her face, and closed her eyes. Just look sad. Just look sad. I am sad!

...Isn't this speech over yet!?

[Esprit]

.:: Charlene ::.

Death.

It was all around them, especially in Area 11, wasn't it? Charlene Monet hadn't been particularly attached to Prince Clovis... at all, really. He was more of just a face that she shrugged off when he appeared on the news than anything 'dear' or 'beloved' to her. He was more of an authority figure who was just... there. After all, she had more on her mind than keeping up with that stuff. Instead of really listening to the speech, she was... pondering.

Sure, she thought the Elevens were getting the short end of the stick, but it didn't particularly affect her. Yeah, yeah, strength of lions and all that jazz. Right. But what if...?

And then, Adonis started that chant again. Charlene shifted her weight, looking around. She wasn't particularly patriotic, but it would stick out to not at least give the high-schooler respects. "Hail Britannia," she said a few times, but she quit after three. That was enough. She was more concerned about the way that recent readings had started to be kind of... weird. The cards held a sense of foreboding, of something to come... She'd brushed it aside, assumed it was just impending failed tests or breakups, as these things usually were...

The girl furrowed her brow. Hopefully that would prove to be all.

[Yabex]

Scarlett paid almost no attention to Adonis as he babbled on about "tragedy" and "the strength of lions". She had heard nothing but talk of the Prince's death as of late and it was becoming irritating. She had never understood why people cared so much for those they had never met. Despite her feelings, Scarlett managed to look reasonably sad but not overly dramatic. She didn't want to appear like some of her younger classmates, who she was convinced simply wanted attention. It was hard for her to not roll her eyes when Adonis started crying. That's a bit overkill, don't you think?

Scarlett was a well behaved student with good grades. In truth, she could be doing better, but school was never very interesting or challenging for her. She kept to herself mostly, finding it difficult to make good friends, not that she cared much. She spent much of her time in her head, thinking, as she was doing during the entirety of the Head Boy's speech. Clovis's death will certainly change things. This might be my chance to...

Scarlett's thoughts were interrupted by the chanting of the student body. After a brief pause, she joined in. "ALL HAIL BRITANNIA!"

[Kyojo777]

Natalie Makarov chanted along with the rest of her classmates, like an obedient academy student, but in reality she couldn't care less about Clovis or The Empire. The Empire was her enemy, the obstacle in the way of her ambitions, and Clovis was just another pawn, a tool to be used by them. Looking around, she was angered by Adonis' overly passionate display. Hmph, another Peshka... She thought. Despite how she felt Natalie continued. Tt was important to keep up appearances and not draw unwanted attention.


"ALL HAIL BRITANNIA!" It disgusted Natalie, yelling the chant over and over. She took solace however in the fact it was only her public persona speaking, and not what she actually felt. She would never be a slave to The Empire's or anyone else's whims, only to her own desires... Though she did hope the event would end soon, the less she had to chant the better.

[Julian84]

Once the chanting dies down, Adonis surveys the crowd for a few moments before clearing his throat. "It is the fervent belief of the school administration that the student body needs time to reflect and process this grief.” He presses a hand to his chest, breathing deeply. “As such, classes for the rest of the day have been canceled. We will be holding a candlelight vigil this evening as the murderer Suzaku Kururugi is brought to the Tokyo Hall of Justice to face his trial. We encourage you to attend to show your condolences for the royal family and loyalty to our righteous cause.” Adonis steps away from the podium and retreats as Emma Wyatt, the Head Girl, steps up.

“Prefects, please dismiss your charges in an orderly manner.” The girl says in a clipped, business-like tone. Where Adonis was fluff and drama, Emma was dispassionate and direct. “Proceed to the exits in an orderly manner and go about your daily business. Good day.”

Scarlett and Natalie

“House Tolkien, you are dismissed!” Shouted the oddly-named Spacepaw Foster, the lead prefect of that house. She was rather sour in demeanor and rude to everyone under her authority, most likely due to her rather unfortunate name. As the students rose as one, she and her co-prefects led their house onto the green.

“Well, that was… Interesting.” Argus murmurs to Scarlett as they break away from the stream of students and head towards the edge of the campus. “Pomp and circumstance all in the name of the third prince. I wonder who they’ll be sending as his replacement…” He rubs his chin idly, feeling the soft bristles of what may be a goatee… In some distant dream, at least.
Argus was an odd fellow: thoughtful and meticulous in his ways and prone to viewing the world in a clinical, detached fashion. He and Scarlett had befriended each other in table-top wargaming scenarios, where he often preferred a pragmatic, straightforward strategy that often lacked the nuance and subtlety of her own plans.
“So what should we do today?” He asks. “I had sort of expected some gesture such as this, so I came prepared - I met a fellow who said he can get me in to see a real-life glasgow first hand, if you’re interested. As they passed Fries Hall, the residence dormitories where poorer students stayed, they saw a pair of girls selling cupcakes in a memorial fund for Prince Clovis. The odd part was that the girls were sisters, the Black siblings, who were notorious for being troublemakers. It was strange they’d be doing something conscientious and thoughtful.

Natalie departs from the auditorium quickly, students quickly getting out of her way as she approaches. She had a reputation for being a touch character on campus and no one relished the thought of getting on her bad side. As she reaches the edge of the campus, she spots her driver, Krasni, waiting dutifully beside her limo along with a line of other cars waiting for their charges to arrive. Curiously, there was a military vehicle waiting in the line, two officers in grey uniforms standing at attention, observing the crowd of students with a hawk-like gaze. Red feathers stood out on the officers’ lapels, a symbol that Natalie immediately recognized: The sigil of the Pureblood faction, led in Area 11 by the newly ascendant Jeremiah Gottwald, Margrave of the Chiba, Saitama, Ibaraki, and Kanagawa prefectures.
The Margrave had declared martial law and taken command of Area 11, circumventing the delicate politics of the region in a blatant power grab in the wake of the prince’s death. With the assassin being an eleven, the pureblood movement and their quest to expel all numbers and honoraries from the military and persecute them further had gained a lot of traction amongst the Colonial Authority infrastructure in Tokyo and the dukes of Area 11. If Gottwald played his cards right, he might even be named Archduke of the region once it was legitimized as a satellite colony. This was bad for business, as he would likely stamp out the corrupt elements of the government that took bribes from the Japanese and the Russians, allowing the Britannian criminal elements to move in and fully take control with zero competition.
<“Good day, madam.”> Krasni bowed at the waist, addressing her in their native tongue. Krasni was not his real name, but a nickname he had earned serving alongside her father in the wars against Britannia, before Oleg Makarov had judiciously decided to betray his own countrymen and sell Russia out to secure his own survival. Krasni, a staunch Stalinist, watched his leader executed in the Red Square after the Britannians conquered Moscow and had thusly named himself Red, or Krasni in Russian. A small memorial of broken dreams. <“How was school today? Is there anywhere you would like me to take you before we return home?”>

Charlene and Vincent

“House Burroughs, you are dismissed!” Shouted Thomas Peters, lead prefect of that house. He was a tall boy, almost seven feet, and his torso could be seen over the rest of his fellow students. This made it easier to follow him outside, where the sun shone through the chill air to make the day a little more hospitable. The gentle giant glided away from his flock, no longer concerned over what they did.

As Charlene wandered toward Fries Hall to change out of her uniform into something more comfortable, she reflected on the worrisome signs she had seen in the readings. Turmoil and strife were coming, showing up in greater frequency every day. The meaning behind them seemed clear, now… With the death of the prince, it was doubtless that there would be instability in the region until a new viceroy was appointed by the crown.
Lost in thought, Charlene almost doesn’t notice someone is behind her until they tug on her sleeve, bringing her to a sudden halt. Turning around, she sees two girls who she recognizes from her own house, Lacy Ferndale and Willow Hamilton (https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/fc/0e/d9/fc0ed90ad3bb230a5a47a318c7df7630.jpg). The former had a bright smile plastered on her face as she greeted Charlene, though her companion stood a pace behind her, seeming rather reserved. “Hey there, Charlene, are you busy?” Lacey asks quickly, not wasting any time.

Vincent barely noticed at first that they were leaving until one of his classmates bumped into him, angrily whispering for Vincent to get a move on, already. Complying with the request, Vincent meanders out onto the lawn, blinking sleepily as he contemplated what he could do that day. He had scarcely made it out of the door when he heard a sort of ape-like grunt and turned to see someone shoved into him, paperwork flying into the air around him as he staggered backwards under the sudden weight and force. Like a great redwood of the homeland, Vincent teetered and rocked backwards, falling onto the grass heavily with the other person on top of him. Clearing his head, he manages to glance up to see the boy was smaller and younger than him, a silver-haired mousy young thing who was looking around in panic as the wind caught the papers and scattered them across the green.
“Watch where you’re going.” One of the rugby players smirks at the younger boy, wandering past with a gang of his mates as the silver mouse couldn’t help but be caught in despair.
“Ahh… Ah… Oh no…” He mumbles, looking around at his papers flapping end over end. “Oh no, oh no… Ms. Wyatt is going to kill me…”
Vincent lay on the grass with the other boy on top of him when he felt something poke up into his lower back from the ground and making a ‘sss-sss-sss’ noise, spraying Vincent’s back with ice cold water. The sprinkler system had activated, apparently. At least it was going to make it easier for the mouse to catch his papers as they get sprayed with water and matted down to the green.
Too bad Vincent was getting quickly soaked.

Usagi and Emilio

“House Card, you are dismissed!” Shouted Moses Klein, head prefect for that house. The older Jewish boy herded his house out last, a motley crew of low-class commoners, elevens, and honoraries who did not have the wealth or social status of the other two houses and thusly were not deserving to be let out until last, where no one would have to see them. Moses had endured much to reach his position of authority and was often treated rather badly by the other members of student leadership.

Usagi lingered a little, watching as the tall and handsome Sora Tanaka left through an entrance that would take him further into the campus. She had discovered through discreet observation that he enjoyed going to the student music lab to play piano when there was likely to be no one else there to bother him. On a day like today, when so many Britannians looked at her with ill will, perhaps it might be safe to have some company for a while… Otherwise, she might as well just go home to her uncle’s junkyard and scrounge around for interesting trinkets to toy with in her little workshop. As she dithered, someone came and put a hand on her shoulder, causing her to turn and see it was Dr. Cullen Byrnes (http://vignette1.wikia.nocookie.net/aldnoahzero/images/e/ef/SomaYagarai-front-left-back.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20140901020010), a rather controversial figure amongst the girls of the school. She had difficulties picking up on the nuances due to her poor grasp of english, but… The general picture she gained was of a rather predatory figure. Nonetheless, dealing with him was a constant struggle, as he controlled her supply of medicine that dampened the severity of her phantom pains. The Britannians hadn’t just taken her arm, they had damned her to a life of knowing it was gone, fighting through pain and mysterious sensations from a limb that was no longer there.
“Ms. Mori, before you go, I just wanted to remind you that your uncle needs to fill out a medical form for this summer if you intend to participate in any sporting events or other activities… If you’d like to come with me to my office, I can give you the paperwork before you go home.” He says with a fake smile.

“Let’s go, Emilio.” Georgie Scrivens smiles, nudging his friend’s shoulder and dragging him out of the auditorium. Technically, Scrivens was a member of house Burroughs, but he and Emilio had hit it off after long pick-up matches of football when Emilio hadn’t had to go back to his master’s mansion immediately to help with the chores. “I heard Erik is going to get a game together on the west green, I want to see if he’ll be willing to take a bet.” Though Georgie was captain of the swimming team, he was a successful athlete in many ways and was well-liked on campus for his abilities as a sportsman as well as in academics. In many ways, Georgie had everything Emilio didn’t - Freedom, fame, more friends than he knew what to do with… And for some reason, the popular boy spent most of his time hanging out with Emilio, often coming back to the mansion to do a terrible job taking care of the garden.
“So, what do you think the Baron of Tuscon will do, what with the power vacuum?” Georgie inquires. “Seems like a great time for a baron to rise up in the world.”

[Grim ranger]

The icy water getting him instantly to more alert state of being, Vincent let out a curse and pushed himself up, scrambling off the sprinkler. He was definitely less than happy about this turn of events, and went on to take his frustration out on the sprinkler system, his boot smacking into the spigot that had given him the unexpected shower until it stopped spraying water entirely.

This day was getting worse by the moment.

Patting his drenched clothing with a sigh, he directed an universal hand gesture consisting of single finger towards the rugby players before his attention moved onto the silvery-haired boy. It seemed that someone was in quite a bit more trouble than even he himself was with his drenched clothing... and both their predicaments could be laid at the feet of some stupid jocks. Even if he might not have normally cared, Vincent found himself crouching next to the smaller boy, helping him to gather up his notes.

"...S'not fair, is it? Both of us were doing so well too without this hassle" he muttered, smiling bit sadly to the other student as he shook his hair. "Maybe we can at least save your notes so that those morons haven't managed to ruin both of our days completely. I'm Vincent, by the way: we unfortunate people have to stick together."

[gremlin-pult]

"Georgie, seriously, either we're talking sports or we're talking politics, not both. And you know which one I prefer." Emilio shot back, giving his friend a brotherly punch on the shoulder. He knew very well that they didn't fit together socially, but the guy was good people, and he insisted on being around Emilio AND being fun. So anyone who didn't find it "proper" could kiss his knuckles for all he cared. "Besides, it's not like it's gonna matter much. Most of them are the same, anyway, greedy uptight pendejos who're only looking out for themselves. The prince was the exception. So it's just gonna be another horrible boss for lowbrows like me to get by under. You may not know this, but as long as we have enough to get by, workers like me don't care squat who's at the top. They don't bother us, we don't bother them. They take everything from us, we grab our pitchforks and take it back. It's the peasant's lot, man. Everything in between's just life."

[Yabex]

"A glasgow?" Scarlett couldn't help but smile a bit. "That sounds great. Where is it and who's this guy you know?" This seemed like the perfect distraction from all the gloom and she was in no rush to get back home. Scarlett was a little surprised Argus had made such a connection, she half expected the glasgow to be out of commission, but Argus was always surprising her. Then she noticed the Black sisters and their sale. Before Argus could answer her questions, Scarlett interrupted. "Sorry Argus, I'll be right back."

Scarlett walked over to the two sisters and began to browse the cupcakes. She selected two with the most icing she could find then smiled at one of the girls. "It's so kind of you to do something nice for everyone at a time like this. These look delicious." She reached for her wallet. "What are you raising the money for exactly?"

[Esprit]

.:: Charlene ::.

Charlene followed with the rest of her house, glad that the speech was over. Part of her wanted to believe that Clovis' death was the end of this, it was the reason for the foreboding signs she'd been seeing... But she wasn't stupid enough to actually believe it. Something big was coming. Something...

... Someone tugged on her sleeve, and the girl turned around, resting a hand casually on her hip as she surveyed the girls who had stopped her.

"Nah, not since classes are canceled." Charlene eyed Lacey and Willow's faces, trying to guess what to expect.

Probably a good luck charm or something, she decided. "Do you need something?"

[Kyojo777]

<"School was alright."> Natalie said in her native tongue. The chanting was anything but "alright", but she would refrain ranting. Her mind was busy being preoccupied on the Pureblood faction. If Gottwald became Archduke, business would shrivel up and die. Above all else, he can't become Archduke, no matter what. Question was, what was she going to do?

<"I'm fine, you can take me straight to the mansion."> She replied. She would think about what to do when she was back in her house.

At that moment Natalie remembered Scarlet, the girl who talked about creating an organization she would call 'Roots'. Natalie had the feeling Scarlet would be helpful, so she decided to her.

<"Mind staying here for a bit Krashni? I need to call a friend of mind."> She asked, dialing Scarlet's number.