Always eager to see comments, so please leave one if the mood strikes you.
Enjoy.",
"writing": "[b][u][center]A March of Progress\nA Colorful Council Story\nSponsored by GlynWolf\nby Draconicon[/center][/u][/b]\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\"Your friend doesn't trust me,\" 'Emery' said, the morning's newspaper laid over the rat's lap as he reclined in a folding chair. \"Not that I blame him; for someone that's riding the socialist line, donations like mine would look rather suspicious, I suppose.\"\n\n\"He's not a socialist.\"\n\n\"He should be. Might get more done that way.\"\n\nThe donkey on the other side of the tent snorted. 'Emery' shrugged as he looked down at the paper again. There were all kinds of headlines to be found, but none of them were half so large as the one detailing the event he and Bernadette were involved in. \n\n[i]March on Washington Today![/i] the main headline said. [i]Angry Native Leads Radical Left to Congress![/i]\n\nHe chuckled as he flicked the paper open, continuing to read how the paper reported on them. No mention of his donations, of course; the reporter had decided to blame the usual rich people on the opposite of their spectrum, throwing mud. The rat was far from a politician, but he understood the game well enough to know how they worked. \n\n[i]Bad enough that one side doesn't really want to take a step forward, but a hell of a lot worse that the other wants to step backward,[/i] he thought, shaking his head at the various insults being thrown around in every paragraph. [i]Well, at least a few people know what's right.[/i]\n\nHe glanced over the paper. Bernadette looked away, but not before he caught the donkey staring at his right eye. Understandable, really; the left eye was normal enough, if perpetually bloodshot and red, but the right was made of steel and chrome and who knew how many different circuits and wires and other things that he had long since forgotten as he kept adjusting it. It was far beyond the tech of this world regardless, and he knew that it was hard for her to get used to seeing it flicker around. \n\nWell, she would have to. It wasn't like he was going to pluck it out just because she was uncomfortable. When they finally got around to cybernetics on this planet, he imagined that most people would be getting the same sort of stare that he was getting right now, only for that to fade out in ten to twenty years as people got used to it. \n\nOr they'd be hunted down because the Luddites decided that it was too much, too soon. Either one was possible. Progress, regress, intelligence, stupidity - \n\n\"Are you going to join us on the steps?\" Bernadette asked. \n\n\"Hmm?\"\n\n\"Are you going to join Chaska and me when we make our speeches to the crowd? And to the government, all things going as planned?\"\n\n\"Heh. I doubt that they'd listen to a rat like me,\" he said, folding the paper and putting it off to the side. \"Besides, this is all your plan. And I doubt that the 'Mad Hare' is going to let anyone else steal his thunder besides you.\"\n\n\"Could you not? He already hates you.\"\n\n\"Well, that's something that he's going to have to live with. I'd like to be liked - genuinely, it makes [i]everything[/i] go so much smoother, but the whole point of this is - what?\"\n\n\"...Progress.\"\n\n\"Mmmm-hmm.\" The rat chuckled and folded his hands over his lap. \"And progress on the societal level is [i]sooooooo[/i] much more painful than it is on the personal one. There's more involved. But, it's important. And that's why I'm here.\"\n\n\"I thought you were here to watch the show.\"\n\n\"That too, girl, that too.\" \n\nAnd to put one on, if he was completely honest. There would be others on the Council watching this, and he'd made a bet with the Baroness that he could get these speakers to the top step, and even into the houses of Congress. They'd be hard-pressed to get in without his help, of course, but - \n\nThe rattling squeak of the police scanner on the table between them drew both their eyes. Emery narrowed his, focusing on it as his mechanical one spun and narrowed its gaze. A few muttered words came through, then the scanner quieted. \n\n\"Hmmm. Going to have to keep an eye on that,\" he said, pushing himself to his feet. \n\nBernadette looked away from him as he collected himself. She had a hard time looking at him, though he could scarcely understand why. Other than the mechanical eye...and the three metal teeth...and the slight slime-oil that was his current experiment replacing his sweat and - \n\nMaybe it was the highlighters in his vest pocket. He had quite a few of them, he supposed. The burnt-orange suit shirt he wore under it and the slightly darker slacks weren't exactly casual-wear, either. He paused, gesturing at himself. \n\n\"Too much?\"\n\n\"I just...don't understand you. You feel too good to be true. And if you were any...better...\"\n\n\"Say no more.\"\n\nA specimen that defied classification, that was what he was. Apparently, he hadn't studied the situation quite well enough to blend in. Ah, well. That would happen from time to time. He'd just have to pay more attention to the whole thing next time. \n\nThe tent felt close as he looked down at the folding table that took up the middle of it. A schedule for the day had been written out in messy script, barely legible by those that knew the writer. Chaska, Chaska. The hare was a brilliant firebrand of a speaker, but writing was not one of his strong points. Emery ran his finger along the schedule, humming to himself and leaving a slight stain on the paper as he did. \n\n[i]Eleven o'clock, gather the crowd with a speech. Eleven-fifteen, begin the march. Allow for an extra twenty minutes in case of delays by the capitol police.[/i] That hopefully wouldn't happen; it was one of the reasons that he was here, as a matter of fact. [i]And then by twelve, be on the steps giving a speech to the media, mostly those on our side, and see if some of the representatives inside can be drawn out.[/i]\n\nThat last would be the telling point. It was one thing to have someone on the steps of government giving a speech, but for all that the location gave a certain power to the words being said, it was, at the end of the day, just a speech. And words did not change societies: forces did. And one of the best forces to see in action would be one overcoming another, and whether that was something in the realm of physics or merely the force of one political party getting the other to get out of the way, the people of this country needed to see [i]something[/i] beyond one more speech. \n\nIf they could get someone out of the chamber, someone that would talk to Chaska, then there was a real chance of change. However, that would require a certain...push. \n\n\"Emery. Can I be honest with you for a second?\" Bernadette asked. \n\n\"Always. You can't have good data without honesty.\"\n\n\"I don't trust you.\"\n\n\"I know.\"\n\n\"And I don't understand what you want from this. You aren't poor; you're not that different from the capitalists that own most of the politicians out there -\"\n\n\"Heh. More right than you know.\"\n\n\"Then why are you here? Why are you siding with Natives, poor, and other people that aren't...\"\n\n\"Like me?\"\n\n\"Well...yes. What do you get out of it?\"\n\n\"Change.\" \n\n\"You could get that anywhere.\"\n\nEmery chuckled as he shook his head. He could understand her confusion. To the donkey, he was nothing more than one more rich man, one more businessman, one more capitalist, one more investor that was trying to affect politics in his favor. There were plenty of those in this world, dozens if not hundreds of them that threw money at activists and speakers to twist the narrative to one side or another. They blunted progress, they distorted the pathways of power to suit their needs, and they diluted each and every change to suit them, either keeping useful rules the same or paying to add new ones. \n\nHe'd done the same thing himself in other worlds. There were times when money changing hands sped things up. But there was a time, place, and [i]direction[/i] to take that in, and this world had failed at that at nearly every turn for the last forty years. \n\nHe leaned away from the table, walking to the tent flap. The rat rested his hand on the fabric for a moment before pulling it open, looking at the great spire that jutted up and loomed over the Mall. Hundreds, perhaps thousands of Chaska's supporters were out there, waiting, muttering to each other in secondhand coats and gathered around small heaters here and there. They looked miserable, and yet, they had huge smiles plastered on their faces. \n\n\"What I want out of life is progress. Every year that the world stays the same, my skin itches. It feels like ice dragging me down, freezing me in place. When people, government, society stands still, I get this need to push it along. Maybe it stumbles, maybe it goes somewhere different, but it won't get better by staying the same. Change is data, and data is understanding.\"\n\n\"...\"\n\n\"It's not all an experiment, of course,\" he said, looking over his shoulder. \"I mean, if it were, it would be far more predictable, and far less interesting.\n\n\"What do I get out of it? Something new. Something different. Something [i]better[/i] than what it was. If I can be part of that, if I can see the world turn the page and try something new, then I've gotten everything that I've wanted out of this.\"\n\n\"That's an answer of privilege. What about all the people that don't pull through?\"\n\n\"That's a fair point. But again, that's why I'm here. And why you have so much money from me, to make sure that doesn't happen. After all, you want this just as much as me, and you're even more convinced than I am that it'll work. All I'm doing is giving you the chance to prove it, and [i]really[/i] hoping you do.\"\n\n\"We're more than pawns, you know. We are [i]people.[/i] You can't just -\"\n\n\"Can't?\"\n\nEmery turned around, shaking his head as he fixed the donkey with both eyes. Biological and mechanical stared at her until she looked away. \n\n\"I'm sure that you wish I [i]wouldn't,[/i] but let's be factual here. Without my donations, my money, my support, Chaska would never have gotten the audience that he has today. You would never have met him. The pair of you would never have been able to expose two major politicians on the state level and get yourself the notice of the entire media machine, or make your way here. Without me, your little movement never would have found its through-thread, and never would have evolved to where it is now.\n\n\"I understand that you don't want to need me. I would prefer not to be needed, but better to be needed and available than needed and not, hmm?\"\n\n\"We are people. You're...this is a game to you.\"\n\n\"No. It's more of a compulsion, really, but one that always spills out in interesting ways. At the very least, it will help me understand how you work, and whether you deserve what you're asking for.\"\n\nThat was the other reason that he was here. Every time that he pushed the world to change, every time that he got involved, there was always the chance that the change wouldn't stick. Oh, he had ways of [i]making[/i] it stick, certainly, but that wasn't ideal. \n\nLife [i]should[/i] change. Every world, every universe, every dimension where life stayed static, something went wrong. The natural state of life was to progress, evolve, even sabotage itself, but the worst thing for all those involved was to stay the same. \n\nBut as soon as life got the ability to [i]think,[/i] they turned from fearless evolution to stagnation, desperate to plateau rather than climb, to spread rather than rise. He saw it again and again and again, and it never ceased to leave him itching like a man thrown in poison ivy. Why, why, why would people insist on settling when something new was just around the corner? Why would they rest where they were, forever, even trying to cut down the potential for further heights to make room on that stupid spot?\n\nOh, yes. Because they wanted things to be equal. \n\nWhich wasn't bad, he supposed, but -\n\nGetting lost in the weeds. Forgetting. Pulling back. \n\nHe pinched the bridge of his nose, took a deep breath, and looked at Bernadette again. Hadn't lost more than a few seconds there, thankfully. Always a nice thing to be able to think quickly. \n\n\"You are people. Yes. And that means that you [i]think.[/i] Unlike animals, that feel and respond to instinct, or can reason out simple problems, you are people. And that means that you have a much, much, [i]much[/i] greater chance to get what you want, but also just as great a chance of losing it because of one person being stupid, or changing their mind, or not being what they say they are. So, yes, I am playing a 'game,' but that game is as hands-off as it can be, and I am waiting, [i]hoping[/i], to see you succeed. Now, if you can't accept that, then that means that my 'game' is over, and I should leave. And while I know Chaska would [i]love[/i] that, we both know that it would be a disaster to your campaign.\"\n\nShe didn't answer. That was to be expected; he had already nailed down what and who she was, and her entire motivation to be here. The donkey marched with Chaska, uniting other marginalized groups under the hare's banner. Chaska had come from the reservations, pushing for acknowledgements, for greater rights, for justice for the injustices that were perpetrated on them, and Bernadette had come along with the same sort of voice for the queer people of the nation. Others in the organization brought their own causes, and their banner, and their people, grew every single time. \n\nHowever, unlike everyone else, she wasn't angry. She was pragmatic. More than anyone else, the donkey understood that their bigger voice came with a price, and that price included a hefty drain on both their finances and their security. \n\n\"Do you want me to go?\" he asked, gesturing to the tent flap. \"Because I will.\"\n\n\"No. I...I don't. I just...\"\n\n\"You don't trust me. And in some ways, you shouldn't. But in the important ways, you should. So long as you let me help, I suppose it doesn't matter how you feel. Just so long as you let me help.\"\n\n\"Then -\"\n\nThe scanner crackled again. The pair of them turned, looking at the machine as words came through the static. \n\n\"[i]Alexander...officers...squad heading...park...Arrest warrant for...and Chaska...[/i]\"\n\nIt wasn't as clear as it could have been, which meant that someone was trying to be cheeky and get this done under the radar. Otherwise, the scanner would have picked up all of the words rather than just a few, and it would have had far less static on it. Emery cocked his head to the side, tapping his cheek. \n\n\"Hmmm. That is a change.\"\n\n\"...You aren't involved in this, are you?\" Bernadette asked, cocking her head to the side. \n\n\"Hardly. It would be useless to put an obstacle in your way when I'm trying to see what happens [i]after[/i] you win.\"\n\n\"Well, you know what Chaska is going to think.\"\n\n\"Yes.\" Emery flicked one ear to the side. \"As a matter of fact, I think he's making his way here now.\"\n\n\"Oh, fuck...\"\n\nThe rat stepped out of the way of the tent flap and took a seat. No sooner had he gotten comfortable than the flap flew open again, the hare that ran the whole operation stepping through with his eyes wide and fiery. \n\n\"You bastard. Did you sell us out?!\" Chaska roared. \n\n\"No, though I'm getting a little tired of being accused of doing that.\"\n\nThe hare swung the flap shut behind him, stomping around the table in high indignation. He was tall for his species, nearly six feet without including the ears, and quite a bit more than that if they were ever allowed to stay up. They were tied at the base and flung over his head, the rest of his fur cut short and bristly around his body. Faint black marks stood out on the brown fur, marks that meant something to his people, more than likely; Emery made a note to study them and see what they meant at a later date. The hare's vest and baggy pants fluttered as he rounded the table, finger pointed at the rat. \n\n\"Every time that we've stopped on the way here, the cops have been on alert. They're trying to stop me, stop this whole movement. They want me in jail so I can't tell the truth about what they're doing, about what the government has done. And they only started when you joined up.\"\n\n\"We've been here before, Chaska. I'm not responsible for this; the bigger your movement, the more upset the people in power become.\"\n\n\"The power of the people defies anything that the power of Washington should be able to throw at us. Our movement inspires thousands, millions across the country.\"\n\n\"It does. But there are merely thousands here, and not that many thousands, at that. But it's still enough to make the police afraid, and the ones that they serve.\" \n\nIt was always surprisingly easy to be calm in the face of someone that was raging. Or at least, it was for him. Anger wasn't interesting. Anger was the response someone had to fear when they didn't know what was going on and they were trying to seem like they were in control. It was the response to try and look like they weren't afraid, that they were perfectly fine, that they were still completely aware of what was going on and nothing would be able to hurt them. Anger was supposed to banish fear and make other people back down. \n\nFor animals, that worked. For people, it was just irritating. \n\nChaska stopped with his hands on either side of the rat's chair, leaning in until their noses almost touched. He could smell the fear-sweat, but also something else. Something hormonal, perhaps, something that gave the fear-smell a little bit of something else. \n\nAh. Not anger, but fury. Fury to see something done. That [i]was[/i] more interesting. \n\n\"If you aren't involved, then you are going to fix it. Right now.\"\n\n\"You want my help, then?\" \n\n\"I don't. But I will take it. People like you, rich people, cocky people, people that have what they have at the cost of others - you are everything that is wrong with the system, and everything that has to be corrected. I have seen too many people like you lie to mine, and too many rip my peoples' lives out from under them with false promises. But if you say that you are here to help, then prove it now. Their people will come for me with everything they have, but they might listen to you.\"\n\nIt was the first sign of practicality that he had seen. Chaska's manifesto was a letter of anger, of grievances, and of genuine horror that had to be addressed. Someone had to say it, and he was glad that the hare was saying it so well, but it was a far cry from a list of reasonable demands that would shift government. That was, admittedly, one of the reasons that he was backing the hare - it was far more interesting to see what unreasonable demands might do than simple reasonable steps that would barely shift society over the course of twenty-plus years - but it was a weakness to his approach. \n\n\"If I can help the cause, who am I to say no?\" Emery smiled. \"Then I shall find this - Alexander, was it? Yes, Alexander. And I will see to it that he leaves you and your march alone.\"\n\n\"How?\" Bernadette asked. \n\n\"Don't answer,\" Chaska said. \"Whatever his methods, I'll take it.\"\n\n\"The socialist acknowledges the needs of money, from time to time,\" the rat said as the hare leaned back. \n\n\"I am not a socialist.\"\n\n\"Whatever brand of equalist you are, it'd be good for you to find a name for it. Your coalition has gotten you here, but you'll need something else once you show that you can take the steps. Once you get there...well, it'll be interesting to see what you call yourselves.\"\n\nStanding up and adjusting his vest, Emery bowed his head to the pair of them and walked out of the tent. His mechanical eye spun round and round, and he couldn't quite help the smile that crept up both sides of his face. \n\nAfter all, he'd not seen these officers yet. It was time for the Earl in Orange to make an appearance. \n\n#\n\n\"Hmmm. Quite a few armed men for a simple 'chat,' isn't it?\" \n\nThe Earl stood in the middle of a narrow passage between several of the side buildings on the edge of the Mall. Alexander - a skunk, dressed in the same dark blue as his officers and with a hand on his gun - stood in front of no less than thirty men. Far more than a squad here; they were on a mission that went beyond simple arrest. \n\nAs the skunk looked over his shoulder, muttering to one of his wolf officers, the rat reached into his pocket and pulled out one of the highlighters he carried. He popped the lid off the top and leaned down. \n\n\"What are you doing, citizen?\" the skunk barked. \n\n\"Oh, just making a line.\"\n\n\"You're in our way.\"\n\n\"I'm about to be quite a bit more than that.\"\n\nHe dragged the garish neon orange line from one side of the alley to the other, running it a few inches up the bottom of the buildings before tossing it over his shoulder. He stood up again, putting his hands in his pockets. Several officers looked away as they saw his mechanical eye, but the skunk managed to keep eye contact. \n\n\"Here's the thing. I'm going to make you an offer. I'm told that this would work for some of you, but let's see if the hypothesis is right.\"\n\nThe Earl reached into his pockets again, this time pulling out a wad of cash. Running his fingers over it to make it ruffle, he tossed it over the line, letting the bundle of hundred-dollar bills land face-up. \n\n\"There's a hundred bills in that bundle. I have one for each of you, if you'll just pick it up and walk away. That's ten-thousand each, if you're mathematically challenged.\"\n\nGrumbles and a few shouts exploded from the officers, but they were quickly silenced by the skunk at the front. Alexander, yes; he remembered the name on the scanner. The skunk - slightly taller than the rat was - stepped forward, still keeping one hand on his pistol. His tail swayed back and forth with each step, a reminder of his other, more natural weapon, before he bent down toward the money. Never broke eye-contact, either, which impressed the Earl. Not many people could keep that up. \n\nAs the skunk stood with the money in hand, Emery pulled out another bundle of cash. He waved it back and forth. \n\n\"So, is that a yes?\"\n\n\"Who are you?\" \n\n\"Nobody that you need to be too concerned about,\" the Earl said, shrugging. \"All you need to know is that I'm throwing out money for those that decide they don't want to be a tool right now.\"\n\n\"The capitol police keep the peace,\" Alexander said, narrowing his eyes. \"And right now, you're standing in the way of us keeping a riot from exploding on the streets.\"\n\n\"Funny. I heard that you're coming to arrest at least Chaska, possibly other leaders in the group,\" the rat said, cocking his head to the side. \"And that, in my estimation, would lead to a much bigger riot rather than a mostly-peaceful march to the capitol building. I imagine that you'd have a hard time stopping that with just - what, thirty cops? Thirty guns?\"\n\n\"There's enough bullets to clear a path,\" one of the wolves said. \n\n\"Ah. Looking for excuses. I see.\"\n\nAlexander tossed a glare over his shoulder. Clearly, the cop in question shouldn't have said that, but it was to be expected; there were always going to be attack dogs that were happy to serve the status quo, particularly those that were seated higher than the others. \n\nLooking at the money in his hand, Emery sighed. He'd been curious if a bribe would be enough to keep the peace, but he supposed he should have known better. It worked for some people - and it certainly bought quite a few people in the upper echelons, with sufficient zeroes behind the other numbers - but for those that got power through violence, they started to get a taste for it. Cash was great, but there were other things that mattered more. \n\n\"Well, suffice to say, regardless of whether you take the bribe -\"\n\n\"The police don't get bribed,\" Alexander said. \"Now, get out of the way.\"\n\n\"I was getting to that,\" he said, chuckling. \"Now, here's the thing. I'm quite eager to see what will happen at the end of the march. I've put a lot of money into seeing what Chaska will do, what he'll accomplish. And I don't particularly fancy seeing this experiment end early. So, I'm going to give you a different offer. \n\n\"Instead of giving you ten thousand dollars each to turn around, I want to direct your attention to the line on the ground. That line is the line of peace. Right now, you're on the side where nothing happens. You stay there, and I will personally make sure that you don't have to deal with any consequences for ignoring the orders that you've been given. You stay there, you can even keep the money I was offering earlier, and I won't bat an eye.\n\n\"But if you cross that line...\"\n\nThe Earl shrugged as he took his hands from his pockets, holding them out to the side. His lips pulled up in a bigger smile, a little chuckle slipping past his teeth as his lips pulled back to show the metal fangs on one side of his mouth. \n\n\"I can't promise that you'll be able to cross it again. Not on your own two feet.\"\n\n\"Alright. I'm done listening to you, old man. Follow me, men,\" Alexander said, waving at the wolves. \"We gotta stop this before the march starts.\"\n\n\"Is that your final decision?\" the rat asked. \n\n\"Out of the way, rat.\"\n\nThe skunk stepped forward, and as soon as his boot crossed the line, the Earl in Orange just smiled and turned his 'key.'\n\nAlexander froze in place, orange light shooting up from the highlighter marks. His mouth fell open and his eyes went wide. His entire body shook as if he was about to seize up, then - \n\n\"NNNGH!\"\n\n\"FUCK!\" \n\n\"Oh, GOD!\"\n\nThe Earl stood there with his head cocked to the side, breathing slowly through his mouth as he force-corrupted and re-evolved the feral instincts that had been buried deep down inside of the skunk's brain. All those little bits and pieces that had been in control of threat evaluation and how to handle it, all locked down under a veneer of civility, finally released. The clicks and shuffles and smells of a world that the skunk-brain didn't understand, all the fear that came rushing up from that plus the knowledge of hunter-killer-guns behind it, had led to a sudden release of skunk-spray. \n\nAnd there was a [i]lot[/i] of it, all soaking the back of Alexander's pants and filling the alley behind him. The reek made the wolves stutter-step backwards, desperately covering their noses as their commanding officer tried to stumble forward - \n\nClick. \n\nThe key turned further, and Alexander fell to his knees, old genetics twisted, uplifted, brought back to the fore. Every bit of life remembered what it had once been, all the way back to the amoeba that it had evolved from at the beginning of time. He pulled that out again, leaving the skunk bottomless, himself from the waist up, but nothing but water and cilia from the waist down. His pants fell off, the smelly, stained things forgotten as the skunk hyperventilated, clearly barely able to breathe through instinct-induced panic. \n\nReaching down to take the skunk's gun from him, the Earl ran his hand over the weapon. He reminded it of what it had been, and what it could be. The gray gun-metal changed, becoming something shinier, something that shimmered with a hum up and down the length of the growing firearm. By the time that he brought it up again, it looked like something from a completely different world, a hundred years more advanced than the simple pistol that all the others had. \n\n\"I would have liked to take that slower, but that's what you get for calling me an 'old man', heh. Now, let's try this again.\" He rested the barrel of the portable rail-gun against his wrist, pointing it at the policemen that finally realized how tightly-packed they were, and how far that bullet might go before it finally stopped. \"Do you want to cross the line, and find out what happens next?\"\n\n#\n\n[i]One hour later...[/i]\n\nThe cops fled, of course. They weren't about to try their luck against anyone that could fight back. After the rest of the squad left, 'Emery' ended his 'experiment' with Alexander, adjusting his body back to what it used to be. It was a pity to not have the time to properly experiment on what a hyper-evolutionary lower-half might become, of course, but there were certain things that he couldn't permanently change here. This unclaimed world was a playground for more than just him, and by the Council treaties, he had to limit his play to something that others could tweak, too. He couldn't make them jump forward too far without actively trying to claim the world as his own, and he didn't want to expand his territory that far. Not yet, anyway. \n\nHe left the well-educated skunk naked in the alley, mind spinning as he forced evolutions through his thought processes. There'd be one more ready to 'fight the power' after this. \n\nHe returned to the Mall, making his way to the end of it where Chaska had ascended the steps. People were shouting, screaming for him at ground level, and Emery spotted Bernadette rushing about, setting up the sound system to go with the microphones that they'd brought. \n\nAnd - \n\n[i]Good. That worked out, after all.[/i]\n\nA smug-looking Golden Retriever in a pale-blue suit stepped into view, surrounded by more members of the capitol police. Not so confident as the ones that Alexander had brought with him, though, and the Earl chuckled as he saw the fear in their eyes. \n\n[i]They know something's wrong. This wasn't supposed to happen.[/i]\n\nThe retriever - a congressman, he believed, and if he remembered right, named Redd Raymond - walked over to the hare. He tried to whisper something, only for Chaska to turn and rip into him. \n\n\"And here, one of the bought and paid for politicians that have run rampant in our government,\" he said, his voice echoing out as Bernadette turned on the speakers. \"Come here to try and silence me, but tell me, Congressman. How many times have you silenced your own constituents? How many times have you said that you 'speak for the people' when all you really speak for is money? How many dollars does it take to blind a politician? Only one more than he already has!\" \n\nThe crowd shouted at the top of their lungs, screaming both threats and demands. The Earl could feel the emotion in the air: rage, long suppressed, finally let loose, and desperate hope, long denied, finally given a chance. They were meeting, melding, joining, becoming something different. \n\nHe chuckled as Redd tried to pull away, only for Chaska to grab him by the shoulder. The hare leaned in. \n\n\"If you are not bound by your masters, then speak with me, now. Speak [i]your[/i] truth, if you still know the meaning of the word. Speak with [i]your[/i] voice, if you remember how to say anything but 'Silence' to the people suffering. Or will you run, again? Will you run, like all the others, to whimper in your chamber about the 'people' and their 'angry rhetoric'? If you do, remember that every castle has fallen, every wall has been breached, eventually; even if you silence me, another will come, and another, and another. And every bit of blood on your hands will make the price for peace that much higher.\n\n\"So run, if you think that you can pay it. Because one day, you - and everyone like you - will, and the price will only grow with every passing day.\"\n\n\"What do you want?\" Redd muttered, the hare's mic barely picking him up. \"You're crazy. The world's fine, for most of us.\"\n\n\"I want it 'fine' for ALL of us. So will you speak, or will you not?\"\n\nThe Earl smiled. Change was in the wind; one way or another, things were going to be different here. The question was not whether the world would change, but how, and when, and whether it would suffer more before things could change for the better. \n\n[i]It's in their court now. Time to see how the authorities respond...[/i]\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n[b][u][center]The End[/center][/u][/b]\n\nSummary: The Earl in Orange, another member of the Colorful Council, is acting as a benefactor for a protest march. \n\nTags: No Sex, Transformation, Colorful Council, Character Piece, Politics, Hare, Rat, Donkey, March, Mild Horror, Body Horror, Humiliation, Punishment, The Earl in Orange, ",
"writing_bbcode_parsed": "
A March of Progress A Colorful Council Story Sponsored by GlynWolf by Draconicon
"Your friend doesn't trust me," 'Emery' said, the morning's newspaper laid over the rat's lap as he reclined in a folding chair. "Not that I blame him; for someone that's riding the socialist line, donations like mine would look rather suspicious, I suppose."
"He's not a socialist."
"He should be. Might get more done that way."
The donkey on the other side of the tent snorted. 'Emery' shrugged as he looked down at the paper again. There were all kinds of headlines to be found, but none of them were half so large as the one detailing the event he and Bernadette were involved in.
March on Washington Today! the main headline said. Angry Native Leads Radical Left to Congress!
He chuckled as he flicked the paper open, continuing to read how the paper reported on them. No mention of his donations, of course; the reporter had decided to blame the usual rich people on the opposite of their spectrum, throwing mud. The rat was far from a politician, but he understood the game well enough to know how they worked.
Bad enough that one side doesn't really want to take a step forward, but a hell of a lot worse that the other wants to step backward, he thought, shaking his head at the various insults being thrown around in every paragraph. Well, at least a few people know what's right.
He glanced over the paper. Bernadette looked away, but not before he caught the donkey staring at his right eye. Understandable, really; the left eye was normal enough, if perpetually bloodshot and red, but the right was made of steel and chrome and who knew how many different circuits and wires and other things that he had long since forgotten as he kept adjusting it. It was far beyond the tech of this world regardless, and he knew that it was hard for her to get used to seeing it flicker around.
Well, she would have to. It wasn't like he was going to pluck it out just because she was uncomfortable. When they finally got around to cybernetics on this planet, he imagined that most people would be getting the same sort of stare that he was getting right now, only for that to fade out in ten to twenty years as people got used to it.
Or they'd be hunted down because the Luddites decided that it was too much, too soon. Either one was possible. Progress, regress, intelligence, stupidity -
"Are you going to join us on the steps?" Bernadette asked.
"Hmm?"
"Are you going to join Chaska and me when we make our speeches to the crowd? And to the government, all things going as planned?"
"Heh. I doubt that they'd listen to a rat like me," he said, folding the paper and putting it off to the side. "Besides, this is all your plan. And I doubt that the 'Mad Hare' is going to let anyone else steal his thunder besides you."
"Could you not? He already hates you."
"Well, that's something that he's going to have to live with. I'd like to be liked - genuinely, it makes everything go so much smoother, but the whole point of this is - what?"
"...Progress."
"Mmmm-hmm." The rat chuckled and folded his hands over his lap. "And progress on the societal level is sooooooo much more painful than it is on the personal one. There's more involved. But, it's important. And that's why I'm here."
"I thought you were here to watch the show."
"That too, girl, that too."
And to put one on, if he was completely honest. There would be others on the Council watching this, and he'd made a bet with the Baroness that he could get these speakers to the top step, and even into the houses of Congress. They'd be hard-pressed to get in without his help, of course, but -
The rattling squeak of the police scanner on the table between them drew both their eyes. Emery narrowed his, focusing on it as his mechanical one spun and narrowed its gaze. A few muttered words came through, then the scanner quieted.
"Hmmm. Going to have to keep an eye on that," he said, pushing himself to his feet.
Bernadette looked away from him as he collected himself. She had a hard time looking at him, though he could scarcely understand why. Other than the mechanical eye...and the three metal teeth...and the slight slime-oil that was his current experiment replacing his sweat and -
Maybe it was the highlighters in his vest pocket. He had quite a few of them, he supposed. The burnt-orange suit shirt he wore under it and the slightly darker slacks weren't exactly casual-wear, either. He paused, gesturing at himself.
"Too much?"
"I just...don't understand you. You feel too good to be true. And if you were any...better..."
"Say no more."
A specimen that defied classification, that was what he was. Apparently, he hadn't studied the situation quite well enough to blend in. Ah, well. That would happen from time to time. He'd just have to pay more attention to the whole thing next time.
The tent felt close as he looked down at the folding table that took up the middle of it. A schedule for the day had been written out in messy script, barely legible by those that knew the writer. Chaska, Chaska. The hare was a brilliant firebrand of a speaker, but writing was not one of his strong points. Emery ran his finger along the schedule, humming to himself and leaving a slight stain on the paper as he did.
Eleven o'clock, gather the crowd with a speech. Eleven-fifteen, begin the march. Allow for an extra twenty minutes in case of delays by the capitol police. That hopefully wouldn't happen; it was one of the reasons that he was here, as a matter of fact. And then by twelve, be on the steps giving a speech to the media, mostly those on our side, and see if some of the representatives inside can be drawn out.
That last would be the telling point. It was one thing to have someone on the steps of government giving a speech, but for all that the location gave a certain power to the words being said, it was, at the end of the day, just a speech. And words did not change societies: forces did. And one of the best forces to see in action would be one overcoming another, and whether that was something in the realm of physics or merely the force of one political party getting the other to get out of the way, the people of this country needed to see something beyond one more speech.
If they could get someone out of the chamber, someone that would talk to Chaska, then there was a real chance of change. However, that would require a certain...push.
"Emery. Can I be honest with you for a second?" Bernadette asked.
"Always. You can't have good data without honesty."
"I don't trust you."
"I know."
"And I don't understand what you want from this. You aren't poor; you're not that different from the capitalists that own most of the politicians out there -"
"Heh. More right than you know."
"Then why are you here? Why are you siding with Natives, poor, and other people that aren't..."
"Like me?"
"Well...yes. What do you get out of it?"
"Change."
"You could get that anywhere."
Emery chuckled as he shook his head. He could understand her confusion. To the donkey, he was nothing more than one more rich man, one more businessman, one more capitalist, one more investor that was trying to affect politics in his favor. There were plenty of those in this world, dozens if not hundreds of them that threw money at activists and speakers to twist the narrative to one side or another. They blunted progress, they distorted the pathways of power to suit their needs, and they diluted each and every change to suit them, either keeping useful rules the same or paying to add new ones.
He'd done the same thing himself in other worlds. There were times when money changing hands sped things up. But there was a time, place, and direction to take that in, and this world had failed at that at nearly every turn for the last forty years.
He leaned away from the table, walking to the tent flap. The rat rested his hand on the fabric for a moment before pulling it open, looking at the great spire that jutted up and loomed over the Mall. Hundreds, perhaps thousands of Chaska's supporters were out there, waiting, muttering to each other in secondhand coats and gathered around small heaters here and there. They looked miserable, and yet, they had huge smiles plastered on their faces.
"What I want out of life is progress. Every year that the world stays the same, my skin itches. It feels like ice dragging me down, freezing me in place. When people, government, society stands still, I get this need to push it along. Maybe it stumbles, maybe it goes somewhere different, but it won't get better by staying the same. Change is data, and data is understanding."
"..."
"It's not all an experiment, of course," he said, looking over his shoulder. "I mean, if it were, it would be far more predictable, and far less interesting.
"What do I get out of it? Something new. Something different. Something better than what it was. If I can be part of that, if I can see the world turn the page and try something new, then I've gotten everything that I've wanted out of this."
"That's an answer of privilege. What about all the people that don't pull through?"
"That's a fair point. But again, that's why I'm here. And why you have so much money from me, to make sure that doesn't happen. After all, you want this just as much as me, and you're even more convinced than I am that it'll work. All I'm doing is giving you the chance to prove it, and really hoping you do."
"We're more than pawns, you know. We are people. You can't just -"
"Can't?"
Emery turned around, shaking his head as he fixed the donkey with both eyes. Biological and mechanical stared at her until she looked away.
"I'm sure that you wish I wouldn't, but let's be factual here. Without my donations, my money, my support, Chaska would never have gotten the audience that he has today. You would never have met him. The pair of you would never have been able to expose two major politicians on the state level and get yourself the notice of the entire media machine, or make your way here. Without me, your little movement never would have found its through-thread, and never would have evolved to where it is now.
"I understand that you don't want to need me. I would prefer not to be needed, but better to be needed and available than needed and not, hmm?"
"We are people. You're...this is a game to you."
"No. It's more of a compulsion, really, but one that always spills out in interesting ways. At the very least, it will help me understand how you work, and whether you deserve what you're asking for."
That was the other reason that he was here. Every time that he pushed the world to change, every time that he got involved, there was always the chance that the change wouldn't stick. Oh, he had ways of making it stick, certainly, but that wasn't ideal.
Life should change. Every world, every universe, every dimension where life stayed static, something went wrong. The natural state of life was to progress, evolve, even sabotage itself, but the worst thing for all those involved was to stay the same.
But as soon as life got the ability to think, they turned from fearless evolution to stagnation, desperate to plateau rather than climb, to spread rather than rise. He saw it again and again and again, and it never ceased to leave him itching like a man thrown in poison ivy. Why, why, why would people insist on settling when something new was just around the corner? Why would they rest where they were, forever, even trying to cut down the potential for further heights to make room on that stupid spot?
Oh, yes. Because they wanted things to be equal.
Which wasn't bad, he supposed, but -
Getting lost in the weeds. Forgetting. Pulling back.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, took a deep breath, and looked at Bernadette again. Hadn't lost more than a few seconds there, thankfully. Always a nice thing to be able to think quickly.
"You are people. Yes. And that means that you think. Unlike animals, that feel and respond to instinct, or can reason out simple problems, you are people. And that means that you have a much, much, much greater chance to get what you want, but also just as great a chance of losing it because of one person being stupid, or changing their mind, or not being what they say they are. So, yes, I am playing a 'game,' but that game is as hands-off as it can be, and I am waiting, hoping, to see you succeed. Now, if you can't accept that, then that means that my 'game' is over, and I should leave. And while I know Chaska would love that, we both know that it would be a disaster to your campaign."
She didn't answer. That was to be expected; he had already nailed down what and who she was, and her entire motivation to be here. The donkey marched with Chaska, uniting other marginalized groups under the hare's banner. Chaska had come from the reservations, pushing for acknowledgements, for greater rights, for justice for the injustices that were perpetrated on them, and Bernadette had come along with the same sort of voice for the queer people of the nation. Others in the organization brought their own causes, and their banner, and their people, grew every single time.
However, unlike everyone else, she wasn't angry. She was pragmatic. More than anyone else, the donkey understood that their bigger voice came with a price, and that price included a hefty drain on both their finances and their security.
"Do you want me to go?" he asked, gesturing to the tent flap. "Because I will."
"No. I...I don't. I just..."
"You don't trust me. And in some ways, you shouldn't. But in the important ways, you should. So long as you let me help, I suppose it doesn't matter how you feel. Just so long as you let me help."
"Then -"
The scanner crackled again. The pair of them turned, looking at the machine as words came through the static.
It wasn't as clear as it could have been, which meant that someone was trying to be cheeky and get this done under the radar. Otherwise, the scanner would have picked up all of the words rather than just a few, and it would have had far less static on it. Emery cocked his head to the side, tapping his cheek.
"Hmmm. That is a change."
"...You aren't involved in this, are you?" Bernadette asked, cocking her head to the side.
"Hardly. It would be useless to put an obstacle in your way when I'm trying to see what happens after you win."
"Well, you know what Chaska is going to think."
"Yes." Emery flicked one ear to the side. "As a matter of fact, I think he's making his way here now."
"Oh, fuck..."
The rat stepped out of the way of the tent flap and took a seat. No sooner had he gotten comfortable than the flap flew open again, the hare that ran the whole operation stepping through with his eyes wide and fiery.
"You bastard. Did you sell us out?!" Chaska roared.
"No, though I'm getting a little tired of being accused of doing that."
The hare swung the flap shut behind him, stomping around the table in high indignation. He was tall for his species, nearly six feet without including the ears, and quite a bit more than that if they were ever allowed to stay up. They were tied at the base and flung over his head, the rest of his fur cut short and bristly around his body. Faint black marks stood out on the brown fur, marks that meant something to his people, more than likely; Emery made a note to study them and see what they meant at a later date. The hare's vest and baggy pants fluttered as he rounded the table, finger pointed at the rat.
"Every time that we've stopped on the way here, the cops have been on alert. They're trying to stop me, stop this whole movement. They want me in jail so I can't tell the truth about what they're doing, about what the government has done. And they only started when you joined up."
"We've been here before, Chaska. I'm not responsible for this; the bigger your movement, the more upset the people in power become."
"The power of the people defies anything that the power of Washington should be able to throw at us. Our movement inspires thousands, millions across the country."
"It does. But there are merely thousands here, and not that many thousands, at that. But it's still enough to make the police afraid, and the ones that they serve."
It was always surprisingly easy to be calm in the face of someone that was raging. Or at least, it was for him. Anger wasn't interesting. Anger was the response someone had to fear when they didn't know what was going on and they were trying to seem like they were in control. It was the response to try and look like they weren't afraid, that they were perfectly fine, that they were still completely aware of what was going on and nothing would be able to hurt them. Anger was supposed to banish fear and make other people back down.
For animals, that worked. For people, it was just irritating.
Chaska stopped with his hands on either side of the rat's chair, leaning in until their noses almost touched. He could smell the fear-sweat, but also something else. Something hormonal, perhaps, something that gave the fear-smell a little bit of something else.
Ah. Not anger, but fury. Fury to see something done. That was more interesting.
"If you aren't involved, then you are going to fix it. Right now."
"You want my help, then?"
"I don't. But I will take it. People like you, rich people, cocky people, people that have what they have at the cost of others - you are everything that is wrong with the system, and everything that has to be corrected. I have seen too many people like you lie to mine, and too many rip my peoples' lives out from under them with false promises. But if you say that you are here to help, then prove it now. Their people will come for me with everything they have, but they might listen to you."
It was the first sign of practicality that he had seen. Chaska's manifesto was a letter of anger, of grievances, and of genuine horror that had to be addressed. Someone had to say it, and he was glad that the hare was saying it so well, but it was a far cry from a list of reasonable demands that would shift government. That was, admittedly, one of the reasons that he was backing the hare - it was far more interesting to see what unreasonable demands might do than simple reasonable steps that would barely shift society over the course of twenty-plus years - but it was a weakness to his approach.
"If I can help the cause, who am I to say no?" Emery smiled. "Then I shall find this - Alexander, was it? Yes, Alexander. And I will see to it that he leaves you and your march alone."
"How?" Bernadette asked.
"Don't answer," Chaska said. "Whatever his methods, I'll take it."
"The socialist acknowledges the needs of money, from time to time," the rat said as the hare leaned back.
"I am not a socialist."
"Whatever brand of equalist you are, it'd be good for you to find a name for it. Your coalition has gotten you here, but you'll need something else once you show that you can take the steps. Once you get there...well, it'll be interesting to see what you call yourselves."
Standing up and adjusting his vest, Emery bowed his head to the pair of them and walked out of the tent. His mechanical eye spun round and round, and he couldn't quite help the smile that crept up both sides of his face.
After all, he'd not seen these officers yet. It was time for the Earl in Orange to make an appearance.
#
"Hmmm. Quite a few armed men for a simple 'chat,' isn't it?"
The Earl stood in the middle of a narrow passage between several of the side buildings on the edge of the Mall. Alexander - a skunk, dressed in the same dark blue as his officers and with a hand on his gun - stood in front of no less than thirty men. Far more than a squad here; they were on a mission that went beyond simple arrest.
As the skunk looked over his shoulder, muttering to one of his wolf officers, the rat reached into his pocket and pulled out one of the highlighters he carried. He popped the lid off the top and leaned down.
"What are you doing, citizen?" the skunk barked.
"Oh, just making a line."
"You're in our way."
"I'm about to be quite a bit more than that."
He dragged the garish neon orange line from one side of the alley to the other, running it a few inches up the bottom of the buildings before tossing it over his shoulder. He stood up again, putting his hands in his pockets. Several officers looked away as they saw his mechanical eye, but the skunk managed to keep eye contact.
"Here's the thing. I'm going to make you an offer. I'm told that this would work for some of you, but let's see if the hypothesis is right."
The Earl reached into his pockets again, this time pulling out a wad of cash. Running his fingers over it to make it ruffle, he tossed it over the line, letting the bundle of hundred-dollar bills land face-up.
"There's a hundred bills in that bundle. I have one for each of you, if you'll just pick it up and walk away. That's ten-thousand each, if you're mathematically challenged."
Grumbles and a few shouts exploded from the officers, but they were quickly silenced by the skunk at the front. Alexander, yes; he remembered the name on the scanner. The skunk - slightly taller than the rat was - stepped forward, still keeping one hand on his pistol. His tail swayed back and forth with each step, a reminder of his other, more natural weapon, before he bent down toward the money. Never broke eye-contact, either, which impressed the Earl. Not many people could keep that up.
As the skunk stood with the money in hand, Emery pulled out another bundle of cash. He waved it back and forth.
"So, is that a yes?"
"Who are you?"
"Nobody that you need to be too concerned about," the Earl said, shrugging. "All you need to know is that I'm throwing out money for those that decide they don't want to be a tool right now."
"The capitol police keep the peace," Alexander said, narrowing his eyes. "And right now, you're standing in the way of us keeping a riot from exploding on the streets."
"Funny. I heard that you're coming to arrest at least Chaska, possibly other leaders in the group," the rat said, cocking his head to the side. "And that, in my estimation, would lead to a much bigger riot rather than a mostly-peaceful march to the capitol building. I imagine that you'd have a hard time stopping that with just - what, thirty cops? Thirty guns?"
"There's enough bullets to clear a path," one of the wolves said.
"Ah. Looking for excuses. I see."
Alexander tossed a glare over his shoulder. Clearly, the cop in question shouldn't have said that, but it was to be expected; there were always going to be attack dogs that were happy to serve the status quo, particularly those that were seated higher than the others.
Looking at the money in his hand, Emery sighed. He'd been curious if a bribe would be enough to keep the peace, but he supposed he should have known better. It worked for some people - and it certainly bought quite a few people in the upper echelons, with sufficient zeroes behind the other numbers - but for those that got power through violence, they started to get a taste for it. Cash was great, but there were other things that mattered more.
"Well, suffice to say, regardless of whether you take the bribe -"
"The police don't get bribed," Alexander said. "Now, get out of the way."
"I was getting to that," he said, chuckling. "Now, here's the thing. I'm quite eager to see what will happen at the end of the march. I've put a lot of money into seeing what Chaska will do, what he'll accomplish. And I don't particularly fancy seeing this experiment end early. So, I'm going to give you a different offer.
"Instead of giving you ten thousand dollars each to turn around, I want to direct your attention to the line on the ground. That line is the line of peace. Right now, you're on the side where nothing happens. You stay there, and I will personally make sure that you don't have to deal with any consequences for ignoring the orders that you've been given. You stay there, you can even keep the money I was offering earlier, and I won't bat an eye.
"But if you cross that line..."
The Earl shrugged as he took his hands from his pockets, holding them out to the side. His lips pulled up in a bigger smile, a little chuckle slipping past his teeth as his lips pulled back to show the metal fangs on one side of his mouth.
"I can't promise that you'll be able to cross it again. Not on your own two feet."
"Alright. I'm done listening to you, old man. Follow me, men," Alexander said, waving at the wolves. "We gotta stop this before the march starts."
"Is that your final decision?" the rat asked.
"Out of the way, rat."
The skunk stepped forward, and as soon as his boot crossed the line, the Earl in Orange just smiled and turned his 'key.'
Alexander froze in place, orange light shooting up from the highlighter marks. His mouth fell open and his eyes went wide. His entire body shook as if he was about to seize up, then -
"NNNGH!"
"FUCK!"
"Oh, GOD!"
The Earl stood there with his head cocked to the side, breathing slowly through his mouth as he force-corrupted and re-evolved the feral instincts that had been buried deep down inside of the skunk's brain. All those little bits and pieces that had been in control of threat evaluation and how to handle it, all locked down under a veneer of civility, finally released. The clicks and shuffles and smells of a world that the skunk-brain didn't understand, all the fear that came rushing up from that plus the knowledge of hunter-killer-guns behind it, had led to a sudden release of skunk-spray.
And there was a lot of it, all soaking the back of Alexander's pants and filling the alley behind him. The reek made the wolves stutter-step backwards, desperately covering their noses as their commanding officer tried to stumble forward -
Click.
The key turned further, and Alexander fell to his knees, old genetics twisted, uplifted, brought back to the fore. Every bit of life remembered what it had once been, all the way back to the amoeba that it had evolved from at the beginning of time. He pulled that out again, leaving the skunk bottomless, himself from the waist up, but nothing but water and cilia from the waist down. His pants fell off, the smelly, stained things forgotten as the skunk hyperventilated, clearly barely able to breathe through instinct-induced panic.
Reaching down to take the skunk's gun from him, the Earl ran his hand over the weapon. He reminded it of what it had been, and what it could be. The gray gun-metal changed, becoming something shinier, something that shimmered with a hum up and down the length of the growing firearm. By the time that he brought it up again, it looked like something from a completely different world, a hundred years more advanced than the simple pistol that all the others had.
"I would have liked to take that slower, but that's what you get for calling me an 'old man', heh. Now, let's try this again." He rested the barrel of the portable rail-gun against his wrist, pointing it at the policemen that finally realized how tightly-packed they were, and how far that bullet might go before it finally stopped. "Do you want to cross the line, and find out what happens next?"
#
One hour later...
The cops fled, of course. They weren't about to try their luck against anyone that could fight back. After the rest of the squad left, 'Emery' ended his 'experiment' with Alexander, adjusting his body back to what it used to be. It was a pity to not have the time to properly experiment on what a hyper-evolutionary lower-half might become, of course, but there were certain things that he couldn't permanently change here. This unclaimed world was a playground for more than just him, and by the Council treaties, he had to limit his play to something that others could tweak, too. He couldn't make them jump forward too far without actively trying to claim the world as his own, and he didn't want to expand his territory that far. Not yet, anyway.
He left the well-educated skunk naked in the alley, mind spinning as he forced evolutions through his thought processes. There'd be one more ready to 'fight the power' after this.
He returned to the Mall, making his way to the end of it where Chaska had ascended the steps. People were shouting, screaming for him at ground level, and Emery spotted Bernadette rushing about, setting up the sound system to go with the microphones that they'd brought.
And -
Good. That worked out, after all.
A smug-looking Golden Retriever in a pale-blue suit stepped into view, surrounded by more members of the capitol police. Not so confident as the ones that Alexander had brought with him, though, and the Earl chuckled as he saw the fear in their eyes.
They know something's wrong. This wasn't supposed to happen.
The retriever - a congressman, he believed, and if he remembered right, named Redd Raymond - walked over to the hare. He tried to whisper something, only for Chaska to turn and rip into him.
"And here, one of the bought and paid for politicians that have run rampant in our government," he said, his voice echoing out as Bernadette turned on the speakers. "Come here to try and silence me, but tell me, Congressman. How many times have you silenced your own constituents? How many times have you said that you 'speak for the people' when all you really speak for is money? How many dollars does it take to blind a politician? Only one more than he already has!"
The crowd shouted at the top of their lungs, screaming both threats and demands. The Earl could feel the emotion in the air: rage, long suppressed, finally let loose, and desperate hope, long denied, finally given a chance. They were meeting, melding, joining, becoming something different.
He chuckled as Redd tried to pull away, only for Chaska to grab him by the shoulder. The hare leaned in.
"If you are not bound by your masters, then speak with me, now. Speak your truth, if you still know the meaning of the word. Speak with your voice, if you remember how to say anything but 'Silence' to the people suffering. Or will you run, again? Will you run, like all the others, to whimper in your chamber about the 'people' and their 'angry rhetoric'? If you do, remember that every castle has fallen, every wall has been breached, eventually; even if you silence me, another will come, and another, and another. And every bit of blood on your hands will make the price for peace that much higher.
"So run, if you think that you can pay it. Because one day, you - and everyone like you - will, and the price will only grow with every passing day."
"What do you want?" Redd muttered, the hare's mic barely picking him up. "You're crazy. The world's fine, for most of us."
"I want it 'fine' for ALL of us. So will you speak, or will you not?"
The Earl smiled. Change was in the wind; one way or another, things were going to be different here. The question was not whether the world would change, but how, and when, and whether it would suffer more before things could change for the better.
It's in their court now. Time to see how the authorities respond...
The End
Summary: The Earl in Orange, another member of the Colorful Council, is acting as a benefactor for a protest march.
Tags: No Sex, Transformation, Colorful Council, Character Piece, Politics, Hare, Rat, Donkey, March, Mild Horror, Body Horror, Humiliation, Punishment, The Earl in Orange, ",
"pools_count": 0,
"title": "A March of Progress",
"deleted": "f",
"public": "t",
"mimetype": "text/plain",
"pagecount": "1",
"rating_id": "1",
"rating_name": "Mature",
"ratings": [
{
"content_tag_id": "2",
"name": "Nudity",
"description": "Nonsexual nudity exposing breasts or genitals (must not show arousal)",
"rating_id": "1"
}
],
"submission_type_id": "12",
"type_name": "Writing - Document",
"guest_block": "f",
"friends_only": "f",
"comments_count": "0",
"views": "9"
}