[nWoD] Campus Vigilantes 3: The Root of All Evil

[ToySoldierCPlus]

"The guy had was dead before he came to the club tonight. Probably out hunting. That's what they do, you see, they hunt in the clubs. Part of why I hate these places." Leon moved to Adam's jeep and began rummaging through the back, looking for a road flare and a machete. "I can explain more, if you like, but the short version is that these shadows run a whole lot deeper than you realize, and you're standing on the precipice." Having found a road flare, but sadly no machete or hatchet, Leon closed the jeep's door and locked it. "It's up to you now. If you want to go back to your normal life, where the shadows are shallow, and nothing goes bump in the night, be my guest. But you've caught a glimpse of what else is out there, now. You know, somewhere deep down inside, that the world isn't what you thought it was. And I doubt that you'll truly be able to ignore what you saw here tonight. So it's up to you, now. You can get in that car, drive away, and pretend this never happened. I won't stop you. Or, you can follow me back down this alley, step over the precipice, and find out just how deep the shadows run. Your choice." As he finishes, Leon begins walking back down the alley, not sparing a glance back at Jacob and Erin to see what they'll do.

[-Sentinel-]

Jacob

Erin did not budge despite Jacob's insistence. She watched Leon walk away, her eyes narrowed, and nervously reached into a coat pocket for another toothpick to gnaw on.

"...the hell is he talking about?" she hissed.

---

1

Jonah

"Ugh, makes things complicated," sighed Kris. "The hunt's much more fun when you don't have to worry about the cleanup. Dean, get me a refill of Baileys, mixed with Tia Maria this time."

Pedro asked an eyebrow at Jonah. "What do you mean, you wouldn't handle them directly? How would you handle them?"

[savior indra]

"That... man wasn't really a man. Had claws and everything. His skin completely changed the moment he died. I don't know if he was genetically engineered or what, but he clearly wasn't human." said Jacob as he started to calm down a bit.

"This isn't just murder. This is the 'government locks you away so you don't speak' type of stuff. I'm not sure if we should just forget about this and walk away or not. It's probably the smart thing to do at this point."

[Lycan 01]

Jonah smiles knowingly. "I'd use them to my advantage, of course. This rogue ghoul knows how to find, recognize, and defeat vampires easily. I'd want to find out how they do it. Watch and observe them, keep an eye on them, and learn from them. And theoretically, assuming there's an organized vampire community in this city - and there likely is, considering its size and age - then sooner or later they will want to deal with this rogue ghoul. We then either get to watch and enjoy a wonderful show, or interrupt and kill or capture the lot of them," he says with a cheery smile. "A little bit of patience goes a long way, you see?"

[Enoich]

Conrad was finally able to catch up but before he could get a word in edgewise, Leon already gave some sort of profound speech which would have been more impressive if the whole conversation about 'burning the bodies' didn't happen just a minute prior. Clearly, both of those folks were scared and confused and from their responses seemed in denial. Handing his cane over to Leon, Conrad raised his hands and sighed, "It's true. This thing was not a government experiment, but something much worse. Remember those tales of vampires in the night, sucking blood of innocents? Well, turns out it's true to an extent, though I haven't seen any with a cape quite like Dracula... I imagine they mostly look like that poor fool."

"I know you guys have every reason to run away and maybe that's fine, but now that you know there are creatures out there that could threaten your very lives and the lives of those you care for, would you feel safe if you didn't do anything. We... We hunt those who prey on others and there is always a demand for people, people who know the truth. It's not an easy life, but I've never been bored so far. What do you say, fella?"

[-Sentinel-]

Erin's face was now set in a look of intent curiosity, in stark contrast with Jacob's deeply shaken expression. It was as if the shocking revelations only made her want to dig deeper.

"Mind if I go see the body?" she asked Conrad, jerking her chin at the alley.

---

1

Jonah

A smile spread across Kris's face. "Hey, I see what you're getting at... That ghoul would make nice bait for vamps, and they're sure to bite sooner or later. It'd still help to know who it is, though, so we can keep an eye on it... I mean, it's no use to throw a worm in the lake if we don't have a hook in it, right?"

They all nodded and agreed they should look into it.

[Odentin]

Adam looks up at Leon as he reenters the alley and, after confirming that he won't be taking the arm, lights the flare and drops it on the vampire's body. Once it burns out, he retrieves whatever is left of his arrow.

"Time to disappear, Leon. Couldn't have brought the Jeep around. Here." He hands his bow and quiver to the scientist, "Hold on to this, I'll go get the car."

He moves quickly back to his Jeep and fires it up, bringing it around to the alley entrance to load up and get out.

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Yay for more time-consuming shtuff...

[savior indra]

Jacob's eyes only widened further as some of the other people in the alley dropped a lit flare on the body and it erupted into flames as if doused in oil. This was not how he wanted the night to go. It was supposed to be relaxing; not life threatening. All he wanted was some good company and excellent alcohol. Now Erin seemed like she wanted to see what this was all about.

"F*%k my life." thought Jacob as he reluctantly followed Erin. "Man if my parents find out... No. no. I need that money."

He focused himself with some deep breaths and started thinking of an alibi for when the questions start coming his way. As he does, he shoots a text to Michelle asking for an update on the election view and if she needed anything from him.

[-Sentinel-]

Wide-eyed, Erin watched the vampire's body go up in flames and burn to ashes in a matter of seconds, not even leaving bones behind. She was speechless for a moment.

"Wow, um... anybody got a cigarette? I just quit, but I really need one right now."

Meanwhile, Jacob got a text from Michelle: Big debate tomorrow at 8 PM in Tyler Hall! I'll come prepared. ¹

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Is everyone ready to move on to the next day?

[-Sentinel-]

Now rid of the body, the members of the RPG club and the two bystanders hurriedly left the area before someone came to investigate the smell of burnt flesh. Conrad left Jacob his contact information in case the bewildered young man chose to take the metaphorical red pill at a later time, once he had processed this whole thing with a sober, rested mind. At this point, Erin decided to call it a night; she, too, needed time to cope with what she had just seen. They all parted ways.

OOC

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Sorry for taking some liberties, I had to move this along.

---

1

Everyone


Thursday

The next morning, the Maxwell Chronicle posted on its website the following poll results:

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Michelle Warner: 18%
Zach Lewis: 12%
Joshua Chapman: 11%
Ashley Parsons: 8%
Dwight Thorpe: 8%
Maxwell Hodges: 8%

Other: 11%
Unsure/Refused to answer: 24%

According to the school newspaper’s interpretation of the results, people were starting to know the new candidates, which explained why the number of unaligned voters was decreasing and why support for Michelle, who for many represented the status quo, had suffered a five-point drop. But, editor Ellen Dobson added, things might change a lot following this evening’s debate/conference.

The Chronicle also reported that more candidates had received anonymous, threatening phone calls “suggesting” that they drop out of the race; in fact, all six candidates at the top of the polls claimed to have received such calls. Candidate Ashley Parsons, the purple-haired vegan, also mentioned on her Twitter a failed attempt by Zach Lewis to bribe her into dropping out and supporting him. The whole election was turning rather dirty, and the first week was not even over yet.

---

1

At 7:30 PM, it was already difficult to find a spare seat in the great ballroom of Tyler Hall, Maxwell University’s oldest building. All six candidates with the most support, according to the previous day’s poll, were expected to give a five-to-ten-minute speech detailing their plans and agenda. Ellen was then to grill them with questions for her newspaper. This was by general opinion the most important event of the campaign, and anyone who had the slightest interest in student politics (or in the Slater scholarship) was present. Some local news media had even dispatched a journalist or two to cover the event.

Still slightly shaken by last night’s fight and revelations, Jacob was nonetheless there to support Michelle, as was Kale. Michelle had gotten a special hairdo for the event and wore an attractive red dress that made her green eyes stand out. She gave Jacob a nervous smile.

“It should be fine,” she assured him. “I’m down in the polls, but people will see that most of the other candidates don’t really have much to say. I’m good at this sort of thing.”

She was indeed. As the public face of the Halloween Massacre survivors, she had acquired plenty of experience at several talk-shows and interviews. While unwilling to play as dirty as some of her opponents during the campaign, she could destroy just about anyone on the debate floor, which was why few had dared to run against her until this election.

Meanwhile, Jonah was sipping some free coffee when he chanced upon Dr. Freeman. “Ah. There you are!” said the teacher jovially. He was dressed in a tuxedo and had a white rose pinned to his chest. “I wasn’t planning on coming, but I learned that my old schoolmate Doug was supposed to give a speech to kick off the event, and I had to see him again. He’s the one offering the scholarship, they say… Well, his company, that is.”


OOC

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Okay, so I didn’t include everyone’s POV, but I assume you’re all there. Do whatever you want while waiting for the speeches to start. All six candidates who will debate (the same as in the spoiler tag above) are already there, if you want to meet them or simply see what they’re like.

If there were things you wanted to do during the day, we can work this out with a time-split or OOC. I believe Matt was still working on a tracker thingamajig, but he hasn’t posted for a while…

[savior indra]

"Relax, you'll be fine. Everyone knows that the others are only in it for the money. You have the moral high ground, and you know how to work a crowd." said Jacob in a soothing tone as he stood next to Michelle and Kale. He had gone with a dark blue suit, light blue shirt, and a black and red striped tie. He had simply put the whole 'incident' from last night out of his mind. He had more important things to be worrying about right now. He'd discuss it with Erin later but now... now he had an election to help win.


OOC:

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Any roll to help Michelle calm down or help her with her debate?

[Odentin]

Adam wanders around the room, mostly bored. He does make time to give Zach a handshake and some encouraging words, "You've got this, man. Everyone knows you love this school more than anyone else. Don't let Michelle get away with using the Massacre survivors as a cudgel, either. Don't you think it's about time she stopped pretending like she's the only one who lost anyone?"

With that, he gives Zach a quick salute and heads back into the crowd to find Allison and spend the remainder of the time with her.

[ToySoldierCPlus]

Leon hang out in the back, near the refreshment table. Let's hope at least one of these people is able to hold their own against the Queen B!tch. Max... might be able to. Hs zela should win some people over, if nothing else. But if she tries to play the Massacre Survivor card... He shrugs to himself. Then again, even if she does, everybody remembers the Halloween Party and what happened there. Maybe that'll take some wind out of her sails.

[Lycan 01]

Jonah, clad in a dark red dress shirt, khakis, and black tie, smiles warmly at his teacher and mentor. "Good evening, Dr. Freeman," he nods respectfully, limping a bit closer so they can converse more easily against the din and noise of the debate hall. "Glad you could make it. Would you like some coffee? It's actually half-decent," he quips with a silly smirk, taking another sip.

"Your schoolmate's company sure has thrown a lot of fuel on the political fire this semester," the scholar grins. "A little financial motivation, and suddenly everyone wants to get involved in the election, not to mention all the mudslinging and dirty tactics. It's almost like a miniature representation of national politics, for better or worse; I'm sure the Political Science majors are having a field day taking notes for term papers and thesis projects," he observes with a sly smile. "Still, better than apathy and the same ol' same ol'."

[-Sentinel-]

Adam

Adam found Allison in a gaggle of people who had gathered around Max, the drama student who campaigned in a military uniform. Max was standing atop a chair and hammily yelling at his amused audience how the bourgeois teachers, and the grad students who were their minions, would be the first against the wall when his revolution came. He would also, he promised, have the student radio play nothing but patriotic anthems of "the glorious Maxwell nation".

---

1

Jonah

"Glad you could make it. Would you like some coffee? It's actually half-decent."

"If you put enough cream and sugar, I'm sure it almost is," said Dr. Freeman good-naturedly.

He hovered towards the coffeemaker and poured himself a mug. He listened patiently to Jonah's description of how the election was turning dirty as a result of the scholarship, and tsked.

"I'll mention it to Doug when I see him... I'm sure he wasn't expecting that. When you have a net worth in the tens of millions, it's easy to lose track of the value of money. To him, that scholarship is just spare change, but to a student, it pays the rent for quite a few months."

He began sipping his coffee, his bespectacled eyes flicking left and right. "I'd like you to meet him. He was an Abbey member, you know... though I suspect he was in it more for the connections than for the thrill of the hunt. Still, we had some exciting times with the other lads... Ah, there he is!"

He pointed at two men talking in a corner of the room, both dressed in business suits and ties - an entirely too formal attire for the event. One was Mr. Thompson, the principal of Maxwell U; a heavyset sixty-year-old with a balding head, a short grey beard and a very stiff stance. The other was the one Matt had found with his Internet search: a whip-thin, clean-shaven fortysomething with short black hair, Douglas Slater himself.

When Dr. Freeman walked over to them, both men broke off a seemingly very serious conversation to face him. From up close, Jonah could not help but notice that Principal Thompson's suit looked rumpled, as if slept in, and that his tie was askew. His cheeks were a bit more stubbly than usual, his eyes were baggy, and a distinct whiff of sweat floated around him. It was quite uncharacteristic of the always dapper man to be seen in public looking almost scruffy. Dr. Freeman must have noticed the same thing about his employer, because he paused, seemingly ill at ease. How do you tell your boss that he could use a shower and a change of clothes?

Slater was the first to break the uncomfortable silence. "Ah, um. Good evening, Warren," he said with a brief smile, shaking Dr. Freeman's hand. "Been a while. You've been well?"

Not content with the handshake, Dr. Freeman gave Slater a sincere bear-hug that seemed to embarrass the businessman. "I have, yes. I hear you're doing very well for yourself, Doug."

"Wealth is a... relative thing," said Slater, a tad defensively, as he extricated himself from his old schoolmate's grip. "What matters in life, really, is to do what you like."

"It helps when what you like nets you millions. I'm happy for you, really, considering you were always struggling financially back in the day. On a semi-related note, you still owe me eighty bucks for that graduation dinner," said Freeman, his tone playful.

Slater reached into his coat pocket. "I can write you a check right away, if you--"

Freeman laughed and held a hand up to stop him. "Forget it. Still too serious for your own good, eh? I'd like you to meet Jonah. He's a member of the Abbey. A promising one, too."



(OOC: Ashwood Abbey is known to the school principal. He's simply ignorant of their activities.)

[Lycan 01]

Jonah's eyes light up a bit, and he grins as Dr. Freeman tells him about his old friend's membership in the Abbey, and his desire to introduce them. "Oh? You'll have to tell me more later about your exploits toge-"

He silences himself when the individual in question is spotted. He follows his professor over for the introductions, trying to hide his limp as best he can. He smiles politely and keeps quiet out of respect, though he keeps a relaxed posture and body language so as not to seem too meek or weak.

At his own introduction, the scholar gives a small nod. "A pleasure to meet you, sir," he states respectfully, ready to raise his hand for a shake if Slater offers him one.

[-Sentinel-]

Jonah

Slater smiled and shook Jonah's hand. "I'm glad to see the Abbey's going strong. University's a good place to start making contacts... I was telling Mr. Thompson, here, how glad I was about the obvious enthusiasm surrounding the election."

"Yes, speaking of that," Dr. Freeman intervened, now more somber. "Your scholarship might've made people a bit too enthusiastic. Jonah here tells me the campaign's getting dirty already, and--"

Mr. Thompson, the principal, cut him off in a hard, almost confrontational tone: "What do you suggest? That we call off one of the most important student events of the year?"

"No, of course, but--"

"Mr. Slater may spend his money as he wishes. I have no more right to forbid him from offering this scholarship than to stop this election, which is organized by students, not faculty. If nothing else, this whole campaign is teaching our kids a valuable lesson about the dog-eat-dog world they'll be thrust in when they graduate."

"I... didn't know you as a cynic, Owen," said Dr. Freeman, a bit coolly.

"I'm a realist."

Slater spoke quickly, addressing both men: "Now, now... this is just a reward for good leadership. Students are not going to vote for anyone who fights too dirty. The candidates know that, and they won't sabotage their own chances. We need to trust them. In twenty, thirty years, the best of them will have become CEO's, politicians, lawyers..."

"All trustworthy people, indeed," murmured Dr. Freeman under his breath. Louder he said: "During our college days, student politics was the last thing on your mind, Doug. Why the sudden interest?"

"Running a business, it... changes your perspective. You learn the value of recognizing and training leaders early," assured Slater. He turned to Jonah: "What about you? Are you running? Or do you know someone who does?"

[Lycan 01]

Jonah keeps quiet during the (awkward) debate between the older man, trying not to look too uncomfortable. Whenever Slater turns his attention back to him and makes his inquiry, though, Jonah visibly relaxes a bit. He grins, somewhat sheepishly. "Honestly, sir, I'm a bit more focused on scholarship than politics these days. I mean, I've been keeping up with who's running and whatnot, and I intend to vote. But I've been more focused on my schoolwork, and also pretty busy with campus clubs and Abbey business," he politely replies.

Of course, when Jonah votes he may just end up being snarky and doing a write-in vote for "Cthulhu" or other odd candidate out of spite for this fiasco of an election, but Slater doesn't need to know that.

[-Sentinel-]

Jonah

"Well, you keep working hard, boy," Slater encouraged Jonah. "Now if you don't mind, it's about to begin and I have a speech to make..." He waved at them and walked away, followed by Mr. Thompson.

---

1


Everyone

The evening officially started when Douglas Slater took up the microphone to make the opening remarks.

“Good evening to all! It’s so good to be back in Maxwell U. Many things change, but old Tyler Hall stays the same. This smell of old wood, these creaking floorboards. I must say you came in larger numbers than I could ever expect. It’s heartwarming, truly, to see such keen interest in leadership and politics. As a businessman, I recognize competence when I see it, and your student council impresses me with the way it runs this election.”

The speech went on for a while without saying all that much, and surprisingly, without bringing up the matter of the scholarship. It was followed by more concise remarks by Ellen Dobson, organizer of the event. Afterwards came the time of the candidates’ speech. Ellen looked at her papers and announced that the first candidate on the schedule was Joshua Chapman, number two on the student council, who was challenging Michelle Warner for leadership. At the mention of his name, Michelle, standing next to Jacob, emitted a low hiss.

Nobody came forward.

“…Joshua Chapman?” repeated Ellen. “Is he late?”

A girl in the front row raised her hand. “He just texted me. He’s been admitted at the hospital.”

Ellen’s eyebrows went up. “The hospital? What for?”

“He says he got… beaten up pretty bad. He doesn’t know who it was.”

A shocked whisper ran through the crowd at the news. It was easy to tell what everyone was thinking. If this assault was related to the election in any way, it did not bode well; who knew how things might escalate from there? A few people threw suspicious glances at Michelle Warner, who replied to the sudden attention with a defensive: “What?”

Ellen looked troubled. “Was Joshua one of those who got threats?”

“We all got threats, I think,” replied Ashley Parsons, the hyperactive animal rights activist, who had changed her hair color from purple to green since Monday.

“Hmm, well. That’s a bit problematic, but we must go on.” Ellen glanced at her schedule again. “Next one is Zach Lewis.”

The handsome frat boy theatrically moonwalked onto the stage and took up the microphone, to the cheers of many of the girls. He was shirtless, but wore a tie on his bare chest. “Howdy! As all of you already know, I’m filthy rich, so you know I’m not in this for the scholarship. Nope, that scholarship is just pocket change to me. If I’m running, it’s because I actually want to be your prez, not ‘cause I’m a greedy son of a bitch like most of the candidates this year. Okay, I’m not gonna bullsh!t you about reforms and activism and stuff for candidates who think they’ll one day be Governor of Illinois or whatever. I’m coming to college to have a blast, and my goal as prez will be to make sure you all have a blast, too. I’ll give you all the parties you want, with booze flowing and all the best music in town. I’ve got contacts, man… The Grätuitoüs Ümlaüts still owe me money for the production of their first studio album, I’m BFF’s with DJ The Sh!t, and my girlfriend plays the bass for Coathanger Abortion. Vote for me if you’re sick and tired of boring student politics and just want the bread and circuses… or rather, the beer and rock n’ roll.”

Depressingly for anyone who took the election the least bit seriously, Zach’s very candid speech got him applause from a large part of the audience. Ellen Dobson then pressed him with questions about important issues, such as the funding of student clubs and the project of bringing back the school’s defunct tennis team, but Zach bluntly dismissed these things as unimportant to ninety percent of students. When asked if he had any experience in student politics or community activism, he cheerfully responded: “Nope. Next question?” And that was it.

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Presence 3 + Persuasion 4: (7d10)[8][1][7][2][8][3][6](35)
10-again: (3d10)[8][3][9](20)

“Pathetic,” Michelle murmured to Jacob and Kale, as Zach moonwalked off the stage and shook the hand of a surly-looking Principal Thompson on the way down the stairs. “I can’t believe a cretin like that is actually second place in the polls.”

“Next one,” Ellen announced, “is Dwight Thorpe.”

The huge football player walked onto the stage and started reading his speech from a folded sheet of paper, never once looking up from it. Once in a while he made a mistake and had to re-read a sentence from the start, which suggested that he was not even the speech’s author. Despite his lack of charisma, however, he did have a certain physical presence. Most of the issues he talked about involved sports in some way, shape or form. When the speech was over, Ellen asked him various questions, which he answered hesitatingly and with short, vague answers. When he got off the stage and shook Mr. Thompson’s hand, a few members of Maxwell’s athletic community patted him on the back, but most people greeted him with cricket chirps.

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Presence 3 + Persuasion 1: (4d10)[2][1][6][2](11)
10-again: (2d10)[3][8](11)

Ashley Parsons was next. She walked onstage barefooted and carrying a lime-green ukulele. She had obviously worked hard to create a strong impression and set herself apart from the other candidates, because she delivered her entire speech in song. Most of the lyrics were about peace, well-being, tolerance, planet Earth and animal rights, but were rather empty when it came to issues on which she would have actual power as student council president. While the more cynical students only rolled their eyes, there was certainly a public for this kind of performance; by the third time she got to her catchy chorus, some members of the audience were singing along with her. Afterwards, however, Ellen’s merciless questions gave Ashley a bit more difficulty, forcing her to answer with rather generic platitudes. She at one point mentioned allowing marijuana on campus, never mind the fact that only the Illinois Supreme Court could do such a thing.

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This one’s based on Expression, since it’s 90% artistic performance and 10% substance.

Presence 2 + Expression 3: (5d10)[5][2][4][1][10](22)
10-again: (2d10)[6][2](8)

Then came Michelle Warner's turn. As soon as she got on stage, she was greeted by an audience member with a cry of: “Hey, you the one who got Joshua beat up? Some Christian you are!” She shot a glare in the heckler's general direction and took up the microphone with a determined look, but the blunt accusation appeared to have rattled her a bit. Like Leon had feared, much of her speech revolved around the Halloween Massacre and its aftermath; how she had given the school great publicity by appearing on national TV to talk about the tragedy, how she had secured most of the donations that had built the victims’ memorial, how she was currently in talks to have a documentary produced about the university’s recovery, etc. She also mentioned some unrelated accomplishments such as eliminating the student council’s crippling debt thanks to fundraising and efficient budgeting. Oh, and she had just negotiated a contract for the school’s visual arts class to paint a large mural in a shopping mall, downtown. The whole speech was peppered with the words “God”, “Jesus”, “faith” and “salvation”, and ended with: “God bless America! God bless Maxwell!” There was very little clapping at the end. Perhaps people were getting tired of her particular brand of rhetorics. Or perhaps, like the heckler, they had their suspicions about her.

When the time came for Ellen’s questions, Michelle’s answers were concise and to the point, as if she had been preparing for anything she might be asked, but a hint of nervousness could be heard in her voice. The scattered booing from the audience only made her more on edge.

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Presence 3 + Persuasion 4 + specialty in speeches 1: (8d10)[6][5][2][1][6][4][4][2](30) - Ouch.
10-again: (3d10)[2][4][8](14)

On the way down the stage, Michelle extended her hand to shake Mr. Thompson’s, but the principal stiffly kept both of his hands behind his back. An awkward moment followed, but Michelle then walked on and melted back into the crowd, obviously mystified as to the principal’s snub.

“Did you see that?” she whispered to Kale and Jacob. “What’s up with him?”

Max Hodges was last. Wearing a fake black beard and with an unlit cigar between his teeth in an obvious homage to Castro, he railed about how he would “restore Maxwell’s basketball army to its former glory by weeding out the weaker soldiers and filling the others’ hearts with patriotism”; how lattes and sushi would be removed from the cafeteria’s menu as “symbols of the oppressive bourgeois class”; how he would establish a Ministry of Truth to “ensure the veracity of all propaganda”; and how he would spread the people’s revolution to other universities. His promise to force the glee club members to wear a yellow microphone badge on their sleeves got only uneasy chuckles; clearly some thought the reference was in poor taste. His answers to Ellen’s questions about the important issues were similarly over-the-top (“Do you have any fundraising ideas for the council?” “I’m already in talks with Kim Jong-Un, he’ll send us money if we just let him build a missile base on campus grounds from which he can threaten our besieger, the American empire.”).

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This speech, like Ashley’s, is based on Expression.

Presence 3 + Expression 4: (7d10)[3][2][1][9][9][3][7](34)
10-again: (3d10)[1][4][3](8)

[savior indra]

"No idea. Ugh, no wonder civilized society is going to the dogs. I can't believe these people. That... Max fellow should locked up in asylum for the rest of his life. He's obviously insane. I can't believe that someone like Zach is second in the polls. He's got no ambition, no vision he'd die without his money." said Jacob shaking his head at the complete lack of any sense in his, no in the student body. There was no way he was going to equate this rabble as rational people. "This isn't about who would do a good job, this is god damn f***ing popularity contest," thought Jacob in disgust.

[Odentin]

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A girl in the front row raised her hand. “He just texted me. He’s been admitted at the hospital.”

"Fμck me sideways..."

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The handsome frat boy theatrically moonwalked onto the stage and took up the microphone, to the cheers of many of the girls. He was shirtless, but wore a tie on his bare chest. “Howdy! As all of you already know, I’m filthy rich, so you know I’m not in this for the scholarship. Nope, that scholarship is just pocket change to me. If I’m running, it’s because I actually want to be your prez, not ‘cause I’m a greedy son of a bitch like most of the candidates this year. Okay, I’m not gonna bullsh!t you about reforms and activism and stuff for candidates who think they’ll one day be Governor of Illinois or whatever. I’m coming to college to have a blast, and my goal as prez will be to make sure you all have a blast, too. I’ll give you all the parties you want, with booze flowing and all the best music in town. I’ve got contacts, man… The Grätuitoüs Ümlaüts still owe me money for the production of their first studio album, I’m BFF’s with DJ The Sh!t, and I’m dating the bassist of Coathanger Abortion. Vote for me if you’re sick and tired of boring student politics and just want the bread and circuses… or rather, the beer and rock n’ roll.”

Adam chuckles at Zach's speech and demeanor, shaking his head in amusement, "As ridiculous as he is, I don't really think I'd mind him as President."

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Then came Michelle Warner's turn. As soon as she got on stage, she was greeted by an audience member with a cry of: “Hey, you the one who got Joshua beat up? Some Christian you are!” She shot a glare in the heckler's general direction and took up the microphone with determined look, but the blunt accusation appeared to have rattled her a bit. Like Leon had feared, much of her speech revolved around the Halloween Massacre and its aftermath; how she had given the school great publicity by appearing on national TV to talk about the tragedy, how she had secured most of the donations that had built the victims’ memorial, how she was currently in talks to have a documentary produced about the university’s recovery, etc. She also mentioned some unrelated accomplishments such as eliminating the student council’s crippling debt thanks to fundraising and efficient budgeting. Oh, and she had just negotiated a contract for the school’s visual arts class to paint a large mural in a shopping mall, downtown. The whole speech was peppered with the words “God”, “Jesus”, “faith” and “salvation”, and ended with: “God bless America! God bless Maxwell!” There was very little clapping at the end. Perhaps people were getting tired of her particular brand of rhetorics. Or perhaps, like the heckler, they had their suspicions about her.

When the time came for Ellen’s questions, Michelle’s answers were concise and to the point, as if she had been preparing for anything she might be asked, but a hint of nervousness could be heard in her voice. The scattered booing from the audience only made her more on edge.

On the way down the stage, Michelle extended her hand to shake Mr. Thompson’s, but the principal stiffly kept both of his hands behind his back. An awkward moment followed, but Michelle then walked on and melted back into the crowd, obviously mystified as to the principal’s snub.

Adam rolls his eyes repeatedly throughout Michelle's speech, and smiles vindictively when her speech falls flat and the principal snubs her. Finally, people are sick of her crap.

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Max Hodges was last. Wearing a fake black beard and with an unlit cigar between his teeth in an obvious homage to Castro, he railed about how he would “restore Maxwell’s basketball army to its former glory by weeding out the weaker soldiers and filling the others’ hearts with patriotism”; how lattes and sushi would be removed from the cafeteria’s menu as “symbols of the oppressive bourgeois class”; how he would establish a Ministry of Truth to “ensure the veracity of all propaganda”; and how he would spread the people’s revolution to other universities. His promise to force the glee club members to wear a yellow microphone badge on their sleeves got only uneasy chuckles; clearly some thought the reference was in poor taste. His answers to Ellen’s questions about the important issues were similarly over-the-top (“Do you have any fundraising ideas for the council?” “I’m already in talks with Kim Jong-Un, he’ll send us money if we just let him build a missile base on campus grounds from which he can threaten our besieger, the American empire.”).

Adam actually laughs out loud at Max's over-the-top performance.

[ToySoldierCPlus]

The news of Joshua's beating takes Leon by surprise. Not our problem, it is not our problem. ...Okay, fine, it's probably going to be our problem.

As the candidates speak and answer questions, Leon snarkily makes his observations to no-one in particular.

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The handsome frat boy theatrically moonwalked onto the stage and took up the microphone, to the cheers of many of the girls. He was shirtless, but wore a tie on his bare chest. “Howdy! As all of you already know, I’m filthy rich, so you know I’m not in this for the scholarship. Nope, that scholarship is just pocket change to me. If I’m running, it’s because I actually want to be your prez, not ‘cause I’m a greedy son of a bitch like most of the candidates this year. Okay, I’m not gonna bullsh!t you about reforms and activism and stuff for candidates who think they’ll one day be Governor of Illinois or whatever. I’m coming to college to have a blast, and my goal as prez will be to make sure you all have a blast, too. I’ll give you all the parties you want, with booze flowing and all the best music in town. I’ve got contacts, man… The Grätuitoüs Ümlaüts still owe me money for the production of their first studio album, I’m BFF’s with DJ The Sh!t, and I’m dating the bassist of Coathanger Abortion. Vote for me if you’re sick and tired of boring student politics and just want the bread and circuses… or rather, the beer and rock n’ roll.”

"Well, he's got my vote. He doesn't seem to have any meaningful competency or political ability, but he has a refreshing lack of grace."

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The huge football player walked onto the stage and started reading his speech from a folded sheet of paper, never once looking up from it. Once in a while he made a mistake and had to re-read a sentence from the start, which suggested that he was not even the speech’s author. Despite his lack of charisma, however, he did have a certain physical presence. Most of the issues he talked about involved sports in some way, shape or form. When the speech was over, Ellen asked him various questions, which he answered hesitatingly and with short, vague answers. When he got off the stage and shook Mr. Thompson’s hand, a few members of Maxwell’s athletic community patted him on the back, but most people greeted him with cricket chirps.

"He has no idea what he's doing, but that doesn't seem to have occurred to him yet. Who's next?"

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Ashley Parsons was next. She walked onstage barefooted and carrying a lime-green ukulele. She had obviously worked hard to create a strong impression and set herself apart from the other candidates, because she delivered her entire speech in song. Most of the lyrics were about peace, well-being, tolerance, planet Earth and animal rights, but were rather empty when it came to issues on which she would have actual power as student council president. While the more cynical students only rolled their eyes, there was certainly a public for this kind of performance; by the third time she got to her catchy chorus, some members of the audience were singing along with her. Afterwards, however, Ellen’s merciless questions gave Ashley a bit more difficulty, forcing her to answer with rather generic platitudes. She at one point mentioned allowing marijuana on campus, never mind the fact that only the Illinois Supreme Court could do such a thing.

"That's gonna be in my head for a week. Even if not for her insane, neo-hippy, Greenpeace-esque rhetoric, she'd lose my vote just for infecting me with a damn ear worm."

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Then came Michelle Warner's turn. As soon as she got on stage, she was greeted by an audience member with a cry of: “Hey, you the one who got Joshua beat up? Some Christian you are!” She shot a glare in the heckler's general direction and took up the microphone with determined look, but the blunt accusation appeared to have rattled her a bit. Like Leon had feared, much of her speech revolved around the Halloween Massacre and its aftermath; how she had given the school great publicity by appearing on national TV to talk about the tragedy, how she had secured most of the donations that had built the victims’ memorial, how she was currently in talks to have a documentary produced about the university’s recovery, etc. She also mentioned some unrelated accomplishments such as eliminating the student council’s crippling debt thanks to fundraising and efficient budgeting. Oh, and she had just negotiated a contract for the school’s visual arts class to paint a large mural in a shopping mall, downtown. The whole speech was peppered with the words “God”, “Jesus”, “faith” and “salvation”, and ended with: “God bless America! God bless Maxwell!” There was very little clapping at the end. Perhaps people were getting tired of her particular brand of rhetorics. Or perhaps, like the heckler, they had their suspicions about her.

"Self-righteous b!tch. She vilified, no, DEMONIZED an innocent man, harassed and harangued the man's sister, and is still desperately trying to cash in on a tragedy like it was her own personal glamour-boat. No, I don't know what a 'glamour-boat' is, don't interrupt. It's probably psychological; I bet she realizes that she doesn't really have anything going for her, a distinct lack of intelligence or creativity, an acidic, parasitic personality, and a pathological need for sympathy, all wrapped up in an almost-moderately attractive package. It's like she knows that, once she's out of here, she'll have nothing and be nobody. Honestly, hearing all of this, you'd think the Massacre was the best thing that ever happened to her." He shifts to a high falsetto in an intentionally poor imitation of Michelle: "Oh, woe is me, I survived the Halloween Massacre, but my beloved boyfriend didn't. Oh, focus the cameras on me, I'm the grieving survivor, I'm the one you want to talk to. Oh, woe is me, no one else can understand how hard it is being me, how hard it is to survive when someone else doesn't. Oh, give me the attention I crave, for I am nothing but an attention whore and I'm going to milk this opportunit- I mean tragedy for all it's worth!" He finishes and fumes silently, until Max began his speech and questions.

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Max Hodges was last. Wearing a fake black beard and with an unlit cigar between his teeth in an obvious homage to Castro, he railed about how he would “restore Maxwell’s basketball army to its former glory by weeding out the weaker soldiers and filling the others’ hearts with patriotism”; how lattes and sushi would be removed from the cafeteria’s menu as “symbols of the oppressive bourgeois class”; how he would establish a Ministry of Truth to “ensure the veracity of all propaganda”; and how he would spread the people’s revolution to other universities. His promise to force the glee club members to wear a yellow microphone badge on their sleeves got only uneasy chuckles; clearly some thought the reference was in poor taste. His answers to Ellen’s questions about the important issues were similarly over-the-top (“Do you have any fundraising ideas for the council?” “I’m already in talks with Kim Jong-Un, he’ll send us money if we just let him build a missile base on campus grounds from which he can threaten our besieger, the American empire.”).

By the end of Max's speech, Leon was done fuming, and had started smiling. By the end of the Q&A, Leon was actually chuckling at his fellow Hunter's antics, especially the glee-club armbands, which earned an especially dark smile and laugh from him. "I changed my mind. This guy has my vote. I don't even care if he can't do any of what he's saying here; I just wanna watch him try."

[Lycan 01]

Jonah

"Well, you keep working hard, boy," Slater encouraged Jonah. "Now if you don't mind, it's about to begin and I have a speech to make..." He waved at them and walked away, followed by Mr. Thompson.

"But of course," Jonah replies back with a confident smile. "Thank you sir," he nods, before waving farewell.

He then limps off with his coffee to go find a seat with his friends. Or tries to, at least. Between his hurt leg and the crowded seating, he eventually just gives up and grabs himself a seat near the back, among some empty chairs. As he sips his coffee and enjoys a moment of silent peace, he pulls out his phone and sends off a quick message to his fellow RPG Club members.

'After this we all need to meet at the hangout. Club business. Very important.'

Jonah then pockets his phone, relaxes in his seat, and waits to see how big of a train wreck this turns into...

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Nobody came forward.

“…Joshua Chapman?” repeated Ellen. “Is he late?”

A girl in the front row raised her hand. “He just texted me. He’s been admitted at the hospital.”

Ellen’s eyebrows went up. “The hospital? What for?”

“He says he got… beaten up pretty bad. He doesn’t know who it was.”

Wow, that didn't take long. Jonah groans. Great, just what this election needed.

He puts his head in his hands, and sighs.

...he stays in that position for most of the speeches, either dumbfounded or exasperated by what he's hearing. An idiot frat-boy, a well-meaning but underqualified jock, and an idiot in the funny outfit. It's almost too much.

The only times Jonah looks up are during Ashley and Michelle's speeches. Ashley actually gets him to smile, and he nods his head along to the song as some points. She's pretty naive, but at least she means well. And at the rate pot legalization laws were going, her promise to bring legal marijuana to the campus might not be so empty in the long run, so that might earn her some votes. And Jonah was quite a fan of wildlife conservation.

Well, except for wolves. He wasn't too fond of wolves these days...

Michelle, though, earns quite a bit of incredulous staring, and even a few mouthed utterances of "What?" and "Are you joking?" She practically hinged most of her speech on either the Halloween Massacre from several years ago, or on religious beliefs that were probably more divisive than uniting among the student body. She was clearly out of touch with her voters and the currently relevant issues, as professional a politician as she may try to pass herself off as. Plus, she was a bit of a bitch...

Once the speeches conclude, Jonah relaxes in his seat, shaking his head. What a show, in more ways than one. Now he just has to wait for most of the crowd to clear out, so he can easily get out without having to compete for space and irritate his aching leg...

[Enoich]

Note to self, stop getting drunk, fighting fatty vampires and expect to be chipper in the morning... Evening... What time is it?

Even at seven-thirty, Conrad Targonski found himself in a daze. After that run-in with Mr. Metallica and his Claws of Crap, he had decided to skip the crowd scene and get entirely hammered in his flat, mixing it with a couple tokes for good measure. Don't want to let the liquor get lonely, right? After a fretful night tossing and turning, he awoke to the subliminal image of an outright beastial-looking man coming straight at his heart. Clasping at his chest, the gambler let out an entirely unmanly shout of primal fear as the late afternoon light basked around him... It was a dream, right? Just a dream... Rising out of bed, he took a hair of the dog that bit him, near rended him apart in this case, and prepared for the day. Damn it, what was getting into him? He was just fine... Just... Fine, right?

Surprisingly enough, Conrad did arrive at the debate, although he was hardly as attentive as others. Watching his other classmates clamor around the room, eager to hear the next bit of diatribe that the participants had to say. Slinking near the back of the room, Conrad looked as incognito as someone that tall could be; Clad in the faded jeans and slightly less faded tee shirt, making him look like someone from a grunge band. The only thing out of place was the giant sunglasses that basically screamed out hangover. Overall, he looked slightly like a douche.

The contestants spoke, like terrible stereotypes in The Dating Game and he found it less interesting than the first time. Some speeches were tolerable, such as the jocular frat boy who proposed more parties. That was certainly something he could get behind. Meanwhile, the damn song had so many opinions that it drove Conrad near to madness. Debates were certainly not a place one could avoid opinions, but some of these people took it too far. Maybe that's the reason he avoided politics, with the addition of some paternal influence. Of course Michelle was a straight-up recanting of the same damn story and while the polls showed well in her favor, Conrad wasn't buying it. Perhaps it was her constant use of religion... Meanwhile, Max was as he was earlier, a dork. Going for the Cuban look, he had to admit the white boy could pull off a Castro and gave a slight nod to his outfit design. Obviously he put some work into this farce. Glancing around, he noticed a few of his compatriots, particularly Leon, who seemed to be at least slightly more vocal than he expected...

Slipping out his cell phone, he glanced idly at the time, noticing he had received a message some minutes earlier from Jonah. Where had he been all this time anyway? Could have used another man to fight that crazy vampire bastard.

'After this we all need to meet at the hangout. Club business. Very important.'

Well that was freaking fantastic. He was feeling more in the mood for a good steak sandwich right now, but that would have to wait. Moving up behind Leon, he mutters down at him, "You came to hear this too? Made me wish I stayed in bed really..."

[ToySoldierCPlus]

Leon shrugged. "It's relevant to what's going on, especially since we've put Mr. Grey on the back-burner to focus on taking down Michelle." He turned and looked Conrad over. "How's that wound from last night treating you? Adam ever have a chance to look at it?"

[-Sentinel-]

Jacob

Addressing both Jacob and Kale, Michelle whispered: "Did you see the principal up close? He's looking a bit... shabby. It's just strange to see him that way." She shook her head. "Anyway. Thanks for supporting me tonight. It didn't go too well, but there's still time to turn this around."

That last statement was perhaps a tad too optimistic; students passing by on the way to the coffeemaker were throwing rather hostile looks in Michelle's direction.

Kale took Michelle's hand, his expression serious. "Uh, listen. After what happened to Joshua, you should be extra careful. There's someone out there who really, really wants that scholarship, I think... Don't go out alone at night, okay?"

Michelle nodded. "I'm not stupid."

---

1

Everyone

After the last speech, the principal, Mr. Thompson, walked on stage for a few closing words. Jacob, who was near the front row, noticed what Michelle was talking about: the man's clothes were rumpled and his hair was a bit wild. Despite his appearance, though, his voice was clear and booming.

"Thank you again for coming tonight! Mr. Slater and I hope the enthusiasm for this election will prove contagious to other fine universities of our state, and that it will carry over into your studies as well. The future is in your hands, young men and women, and it is by getting involved now that you may start to shape it. Know that I am very grateful to the people of Slater Capital for helping us make this happen with their generous scholarship program. Now, I know some are worried already about rumors of foul play... While the incident that happened to Mr. Chapman is regrettable, I assure you we'll do our best to find the culprits so that the election may move forward without fear. I trust you'll make the best choice on voting day, on next week's Friday. Good night to all, and good luck to all candidates."

The spectators applauded politely, though the formal and optimistic speech seemed a bit incongruous after that parade of eccentric and/or worthless candidates. The principal walked down the stage to shake hands with Douglas Slater and exchange a few words with him. People started trickling out of the room.


OOC

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You may move the scene to the club's hangout whenever you want. Alternatively, you can go try to talk to Jacob; the last time he saw you, he wanted nothing to do with you guys, and I'd like him to get integrated in the group at some point in the foreseeable future.

[Odentin]

Adam pulls out his phone as the room begins to empty and fires off a text to Vishaka, -Can you come by the house tonight? Business to discuss.-

As he puts the phone away, he turns to Allison and smiles, "Well, that was at the very least entertaining. Feel like doing anything tonight? I've got some club business to attend to, but it shouldn't take too long."

[Enoich]

Conrad's attention was divided, as it tended to be. The activities of the day were of only passing interest and Leon's words filtered through repeated glances through the crowd, an idle bit of identification. Mostly he was identifying the new designs for the female co-eds and seeing whether or not any met his particular desires. Unfortunately the cold made it difficult to really get a good sense. Why would perfectly-good opportunities to show skin be ruined by below-freezing temperatures. Sometimes he wished he lived in California, free to leer on all seasons.

The principal droned on something about 'enthusiasm' and 'involvement'; something which schools liked to talk about ad nauseum. This particular crowd might get it, since they are spending a perfectly good evening in a moderately-cold auditorium watching a bunch of two-faced politicians slither around like so many serpents. Glancing to his shoulder, he noticed the well-placed bandages under his tee begin to ooze blood, the faint pink leading way to a wash of faded crimson as the clotting fabric attempted to hold the tides of hemoglobin. "Yeah, that cut... It likes to act up, but I try to keep the bandages changed when I can. Not as if I'm not used to getting hurt. Surprising that it still stings after a day though."

It took a whole three minutes to notice Jacob in the crowd, truly a testament to the fencer's fatigue. After realizing, his eyes fixed on the man in the powerful colors of black, blue and red some distance away. "Hey Leon... That fella that was with us last night... In the club... Not the Metallica guy, but the other one. I think I see him. Looks like a lobbyist with what he's wearing. See him? Blue coat, red tie? Think we ought to talk to him a bit? I mean he did see something that most don't see." It took another half a minute to notice who he was sitting next to. "Aha... He's in the boat with Michelle I think. What is he, some kind of playa?... Remind me never to say that word."

[-Sentinel-]

-Can you come by the house tonight? Business to discuss.-

Vishakha's answer came quickly: Your club's safehouse, right? Sure, I'll be there.

"Feel like doing anything tonight? I've got some club business to attend to, but it shouldn't take too long."

Allison was sipping a decaf when Adam talked to her. She smiled and glanced down at her watch. "Getting a bit late already to do lots of stuff, and I've got a class tomorrow at nine. How about a sleepover? Your place or mine, I don't mind." A faint blush colored her cheeks.

[ToySoldierCPlus]

Leon looked where Conrad indicated. "I'll be damned, I think you're right. Well, if he's thrown in with Michelle, he's going down with her. Wonder if he'll come around after what he saw last night, though." Leon checked his phone out of habit, and spotted Jonah's message. He turned and headed towards the main door of the auditorium. "Come on, Jonah's got something important to tell us."