Ian Chesterton (
splendid_roman) wrote in
thecapitol2013-05-08 08:22 am
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Entry tags:
Rescue Me! (from a journalist) OPEN
Who| Ian and open
What| Ian wakes up after his death in the arena and is reminded of what he did there
Where| Training centre - central commons
When| During the last week of the arena
Warnings/Notes| None so far
Ian woke up, which was a surprise in itself. An assessment of his injuries revealed he had none, which was the second surprise. After lying in bed for a while, looking up at the ceiling, he could only conclude that he'd been taken out of the arena before he died from blood loss. Either the technology here was very good or he'd been kept asleep for a long time. He hoped it wasn't the latter and was curious about the former.
He ventured out, feeling tired, but not feeling any of his former injuries. The central commons, it turned out, wasn't the best place to choose. He'd barely got through the door when a journalist shoved a microphone and camera in his face and asked, "We loved your sword fighting. Can you tell us where you learned it?"
A screen nearby was showing one of Ian's fights. One where he killed someone. He'd fought before and he killed before, but for good reason - generally because his or someone else's life was in danger. But there were people he'd killed in the arena for no good reason. There had felt like one at the time, but now those reasons seemed petty.
He went pale and shook his head, looking around in the hopes of seeing someone who could rescue him from this interview.
What| Ian wakes up after his death in the arena and is reminded of what he did there
Where| Training centre - central commons
When| During the last week of the arena
Warnings/Notes| None so far
Ian woke up, which was a surprise in itself. An assessment of his injuries revealed he had none, which was the second surprise. After lying in bed for a while, looking up at the ceiling, he could only conclude that he'd been taken out of the arena before he died from blood loss. Either the technology here was very good or he'd been kept asleep for a long time. He hoped it wasn't the latter and was curious about the former.
He ventured out, feeling tired, but not feeling any of his former injuries. The central commons, it turned out, wasn't the best place to choose. He'd barely got through the door when a journalist shoved a microphone and camera in his face and asked, "We loved your sword fighting. Can you tell us where you learned it?"
A screen nearby was showing one of Ian's fights. One where he killed someone. He'd fought before and he killed before, but for good reason - generally because his or someone else's life was in danger. But there were people he'd killed in the arena for no good reason. There had felt like one at the time, but now those reasons seemed petty.
He went pale and shook his head, looking around in the hopes of seeing someone who could rescue him from this interview.
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"A spaceship?" she asked, smirking a bit. "So you have traveled through space?"
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"But you knew that the universe had more life than just Earthians?"
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"Which would mean he's a more advanced race? There aren't man Earthians who have met him then?"
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"Is there a reason for that? Is it that he doesn't want to stand out?"
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"There are several planets inhabited by humans in my galaxy."
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"Yes. The Empire favoured humans though, and set to suppress or murder the other species in the Galaxy..."
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She nodded in agreement. "There was a Rebellion that overthrew the Empire," she explained. "We weren't all like that."
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"Most despotic governments sound the same."
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"This topic is just a little depressing," she pointed out. "And dangerous." She glanced over at the guards around the room.
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"I know what you mean," she said. "You want to do more to fix this."
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"It is," she agreed. "In part because so many people don't see that there is anything to be fixed." After all, there were citizens here, dancing and having the time of their lives.
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"There are always fewer," Callista pointed out. "They need to be strong to win."
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