A Rally in Support of the Hungry Few

[baedalites.livejournal.com]

Who: The City
What: A Rally in Support of Cruorvores.
Where: Mercer's Square, Aspic
When: AT A CLEVER TIME
Notes: Everyone is welcome, including curious neutrals. NPCs available on request. OOC post.
Warnings: A general spirit of solidarity may be present.

Word has been spreading over the network and on the street. Leaflets have been available at open minded public houses and restaurants. A few of the city's more prominent inhabitants have organized a rally to show support for cruorvore citizens. It is going to be a public event; sanctioned, the leaflet assures, by the state. Speeches will be made, the true colours of the city will be shown. There is a lot of talk about standing up to the sowers of discord.

As the evening of the rally approaches, more and more people gather in the square. All sorts have come out for the event, xenians, humans and people who defy categorization mingle peacefully. A cat watches the proceedings from on top the stage has been erected to one end. The stage has been draped in banners promoting tolerance and acceptance, and small sign near the bottom proclaims it was built with the kind donations from Bloody Sunday, The Zygoda, Howl's Market and certain private citizens, of which there is a list. Some attendees have brought instruments and casually strike up a tune every now and then. Others have brought food, signs or torches as the rally promises to continue well into the night.

Comments

[Early Evening]

[baedalites.livejournal.com]

The crowd is still gathering and the sound system is being tested before the first speaker steps up on the stage. Opportunistic vendors sell (fully vegetarian) snacks and little buttons proclaiming things like We All Got to Eat and Friend to Fiends. It's a good time for people watching, and for being watched by other people.

[rhinemaid]

One of the early arrivals, Ilde has a marked lack of interest in wearing a button and slips past instead to join the other musicians with her cello, the case for which is nearly as big as she is. Setting up with them there gives her a good vantage point for people-watching, which is - after all - most of the reason she's present. The other reason is to see who, if anyone, will turn up representing Baedal's mass media.

[xenophilius]

This place is guided by pamphlets, clearly.

And Xeno is holding one as he drifts into Mercer's Square, a lanky figure in the shifting crowd. The toes of leather boots poke out from beneath the hems of a light woolen robe, long swaths of yellow to gold to brown fabric that are tattered and frayed not from misuse, but simply age and being well worn. A tweed jacket is tugged over the ensemble, Hallows pendant a-glint in silver hanging from his neck, and if he has anything else, besides the promotional piece of paper he holds in his hands, its hidden in deep pockets -- save for his wand, the twisted handle of which slightly too visible for safekeeping.

Xenophilius is the kind of person one would expect to have no idea what's going on but he's read enough to understand the context of things. People are still gathering, too, which lends him some time to get his bearings, having basically followed the pamphlet he'd been handed, and then the trickling crowd.

The pamphlets is shoved into a pocket, and a notepad is extracted. He isn't the mass media. Not here, anyway. But that doesn't mean much.

Which means he probably isn't what she is looking for, but it is what Ilde gets when he appears nearby -- not literally, or anything, but his vaguely butterfly-esque wander kind of just takes him there at the shapes of instruments and things. "Is there to be music?" he asks, diction telling of rural England and inconsequentially benign.

[rhinemaid]

Her accent, in turn, is more precisely trained received pronunciation with a hint of Florentine Italian (the latter being closer to where she's comfortable, truly, but the former comes of being habitually English in the words of her father): "In a bit. Still warming up."

The nearer he gets, the clearer it might be that Ilde isn't exactly what she appears to be - her illusion is good, but it's almost too good. She's like an oil painting of a woman, a little too richly realized to be reality, and in that way it's clear to some observers that whatever the purpose of it, it isn't about hiding, per se.

[im_apimp]

Alec is more there out of curiosity than showing actual support. Humans always did rally for every little thing that went wrong -- anything they perceive as an injustice. He'd done quite a few missions for Manticore at rallies -- they were great for cover, because no one keeps track of just who is there and who wasn't, and if the rally happened to turn violent later, the target just happened to be a victim of the outcome. Regardless, this is the first time that he's been to a rally to actually listen, and he's just trying to make himself part of the experience.

This could backfire horrendously later, but -- for now, he's just enjoying the experience.

Personally, he didn't see what the big deal was. Vampires are people, and like people they need to eat. Yes, killing people is wrong, but those that feed responsibly shouldn't be judged for it. Then again, he could be projecting a bit, given his own home situation, but he's never really been one to put much stock in psychology.

As he rounds the corner, he smirks, amused, at some of the vendors, and pauses to look over their wares for a moment.

[sailorofthefloe.livejournal.com]

Mid-evening, Asbjørn can be found circling the growing crowd and picking at some of the more interesting pamphlets. People are giving him a wide-berth as usual (an unintentional side-effect of being his brand of something signficantly large and sharp toothed beneath the surface) with the exception of one oblivious and really enthusiastic vendor who's trying to press a variety of veggie snack samplers on him. He is trying his very best to side-eye her but that's apparently too subtle. Won't someone save him from the lentils?

[fish]

Fish will save him.

"Barf," he interjects, a little louder than is strictly necessary, while abruptly positioning himself between Asbjørn and this intrepid peddler of legumes. He's smeared on a bunch of eyeliner tonight because it makes him look even more like a wanna-be leech than usual. Well, that and he hasn't gotten dolled up in a while...but mostly he wants to be disregarded by people in general.

"Sup, buddy?"

[andyoullmissit]

Clarice is out and about, wearing her cloak hood down mainly to gauge the reactions she'll gather. She has no strong feelings about cruorvores per se, but she has very strong feelings about gathering up any one group of people and persecuting them.

She's trying to get the lay of the land, keeping her ears and eyes open. She doesn't look hostile or sympathetic per se, but she's observing.

[cerebric.livejournal.com]

Charles is reminded a little too uncomfortably of the mutant situation at home when he sees the gathering. He doesn't want to harm the reception of his kind here by saying anything too loudly before he understands everything fully.

He sees an opening where he can observe the rally as well and when he shuffles next to the covered figure he speaks to his temporary companion. "I hope I'm not taking anyone's place."

[aldabeyoun.livejournal.com]

Njoki had planned to be out of Aspic well before the rally started, but house call she had been working on ending up going on for far longer than expected. Worse still, it had been messier than she was used to and had to use her client's shower before heading back to Mafaton. Should anyone else be skirting the edges of Mercer's Square, they're welcome to run into Njoki, who has slowed her pace to get through the crowds, occasionally stopping to chat with vendors and hand out a few business cards. Might as well make the best of it?

[magnetic]

Erik happens to be standing nearby during just such an exchange, and while he does not interrupt, he doesn't exactly make much effort to conceal his interest. Not that he's staring, mind you—but before Njoki turns to leave, he hopes to stop her by reaching as though to accept another of her cards. "Would you mind?"

[bangyoudead.livejournal.com]

Of two minds - optimistic, this is a good thing; skeptic, this will end poorly - Remy is nevertheless out, because when did thinking something might end badly stop him? Even without the angle he and Ilde are pulling concerning the connection between the anti-blood drinker pressure and the Candlelighters, he'd have showed up. They've come for his people first before, after all.

"Not a bad night," he says to the young man walking alongside him. "You old enough to remember stuff like this for us at home?"

[hareapparent.livejournal.com]

Billy, for his part, is not sure most normal kids wouldn't be creeped out enough by vampires - cruorvores - to be on the other side of things, but then again, the popularity of things like Twilight might have swung it back in their favour. So it was good for something. He might have been more creeped out himself, blood drinking had that kind of... yeah, creepy vibe, but hey, they were doing it in downright civilised ways - because they were still civilised, still people, and that was the point. Start picking on people for big differences, and soon you get down to picking on them for smaller differences, and smaller - moving on to victimise other outsider groups. And he's had quite enough experience of that himself, thanks.

"Yeah, I've seen things like this once or twice." Before he'd known he was a mutant (demon soul baby), even. "Actually, there were even support protests for the Skrulls when they invaded, since they framed it as a benign take over, but that didn't end so well. Maybe not such a good propganda move to kill your supporters."

... damnit one day I will properly edit a sentence and TAKE OUT THE PARTS THAT SHOULD BE TAKEN OUT

[fuckrobertfrost.livejournal.com]

Here and there among the crowd, there is a loud dude trying to corner people for their opinions. John is following him with a recorder, coffee, a lit cigarette, and a peevish expression. It's probably to do with how much often the reporter asks him if he's getting that. If he happens to catch Remy's eye, he'll gesture vaguely or something appropriately stoic. But John isn't saying much, since he's just the intern. He too would be here even if it wasn't his job, though he doesn't yet understand city politics.

[Past Sundown]

[baedalites.livejournal.com]

Photosensitive cruorvores and non-cruorvore sympathizers come out in full as the sun sets beyond the rooftops. The first out and loud vampire takes the stage and she talks about how she has been a citizen of Baedal for nearly two hundred years and never before seen such a diverse gathering of people speaking out on behalf of one single group before.

[imnot_likeyou]

Sam doesn't know how he feels about the current situation.

Vampires have always been a sore subject for him. Where he's from, they're so few and far between that he never knows who he's supposed to trust, and as far as he can see -- there's only been one group that's actively made the choice to feed safely on animals and not on people. Vampires like Lenore don't come around all that often, and from what he knows of Baedal, he doubts there are many here.

That being said, Sam is not here for support. Sam is here to try and make some of them without them making him. He doesn't plan on hunting them. That's not what this is about. But he's nearly had his blood drained before, and he's not looking for it to happen again. He wants to know who to avoid, and for all intents and purposes, this is doing that.

Whatever kind of freak Sam may be -- and trust him on the fact that he is definitely several levels of freak -- he's still a hunter first, and this is the perfect opportunity for recon.

[goodeintentions]

Aimery had arrived earlier in the afternoon, prepared with an excuse about getting turned around on his way to the bazaar, and loitered without blatantly participating. He didn't understand this cruorvore pride thing, didn't like the concept of living off of others flesh, was conflicted from a religious standpoint... but surely most of them hadn't asked for their vampirism and other afflictions- it was something done to them that cost them a normal life and he understood that well. All most of them seemed to be asking for was to be allowed to live as they needed with consensual donations, and he didn't see why they should be denied.

None of that was why he stayed after the sunset. As he stood near the outskirts of the rally and listened to the speeches —didn't cheer along, just listened and sympathized despite himself— he watched the crowd, hoping to spot familiar faces. Aimery had vague memories of vampires he'd known before, most of them pleasant, and he knew others had come to Baedal from Bete Noire. Maybe, if he were lucky, he'd see someone he knew and fill in a few blanks.

[fish]

"Hey..."

Thanks to a combination of crowd cover and drunkenness, Fish is feeling socially brave tonight—this is why he's actually been approaching people, when his usual habit is more reserved. A cigarette hangs from his lips and there's a cup of water in his hand (yes, it's actually water). Behold his smudgy eyeliner, also, for he is wearing some.

"You're from CB523, right? You were stayin at the inn."

[selfmadman]

Don lingers on the fringes of the crowd, wary and watchful, a vampire's voice booming over him. He's taking distracted drags on a cigarette, exhaling a little more forcefully when applause breaks out. He watches where he steps, doesn't let his eyes rest on anyone--anything--for too long.

As the speech comes to an end he slips away from the throng. He's heard enough; he'll finish his cigarette and leave. "Hell of a way to spend a Saturday night," he says half to himself, letting out a ragged breath and remembering too late that's not what it's called anymore.

[Trouble Brewing]

[baedalites.livejournal.com]

Not everyone has come to the rally to embrace tolerance and acceptance. A small but loud group of people have gathered at the edge of the square, shouting about abominations and self-preservation. They are quickly drawing a lot of attention. The Militia is present here and should the situation turn ugly, they will kettle (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kettling) and remove all participants -- both pro- and against -- and let them spent the night in a jail cell.

[kiss_evilgoodbye]

And where there is trouble, you will find Buffy.

She hadn't been planning on attending the rally -- she is just trying to get back to her place -- but when she sees what it's about, and for who she sticks around. And she doesn't necessarily like what she sees.

Vampire support. Right. Because supporting violent killing machines never lead to any kind of trouble. She doesn't know why she sticks around, she's sure she has a reason, but by the time she is frustrated enough to leave, the anti-group is making their appearance and starting to cause their own amount of trouble. And Buffy can't really say she's happy about that fact.

Block her way out, and she will go through you, if necessary. Or attack someone, and hero instincts might kick in. Either way, she has a feeling things are going to get violent -- and here she was looking forward to a quiet evening alone.

[baedalites.livejournal.com]

There are hundreds of people on the square. Most of them are still busy listening to speeches or talking amongst themselves but more and more are starting to pay attention to the counter-protest, and some of them are getting loud.

Soon, there is pushing and shoving. A bottle flies through the air and connects with a young man's head, knocking him down. No one seems claim immediate responsibility for the poor fellow as the crowd pushes ever on, angrier and angrier as more improvised missiles fly through the air.

Spy mode is a-go!

[rose-obfuscated.livejournal.com]

Whenever an event like this happens, Brie is always suspicious that the real intent is much more vicious than something as warm and fuzzy as promoting tolerance. She wanted to see who showed up, and just in case it was necessary, maybe save a few people if things got violent.

Brie had perched herself on the roof of a nearby building, not intending to get involved with the rally, and completely content with keeping herself obfuscated to not draw attention.

"Just like old times huh?" she whispered to Rosa. The two of them had creeped around Chicago more silent and stealthy than flies on a wall, and it felt good to be doing this again.

[ ooc: For all intents and purposes, Brie is invisible right now to everyone except for Rosa. This is not unbreakable, just talk to me first if you'd like to see her. You'll need very keen senses as she is super extra good at hiding. ]

[paintfromlife.livejournal.com]

It's evening before Pickman manages to drag himself out of bed, to walk among the living (and undead) once more, and check out this whole rally thing. He's still surprisingly quiet, more passive and subdued than usual as he mingles, trying to get his emotional bearings again.

Inevitably, his eye and ear is caught by the counter-protest, and in due time, he ends up over that way. Just watching, at first. Until a particularly hard-hitting insult has him throwing a rude gesture back, and baring his mismatched teeth at the shouting group. This doesn't seem to calm any of them down.

[baedalites.livejournal.com]

Someone on the cruro side screams. It's angry, wordless and loud enough to carry over the noise of the square. A ripple goes through the crowd and the scream is cut awkwardly short. The offending screamer - something between human and not human is dragged back into the crowd. Silenced, it would seem, by its own.

Egged on by this display (and others), some of the counter-protesters band together and begin to chant. Be alert, be aware, scary fangs are everywhere. Not the most inventive perhaps, but they are getting into it.