Bloomshire: Remnants of the Past

[TheMaskedReader]

It's a festive night in Bloomshire, and most of the townsfolk who live in town are gathered in the town square! A podium for Mayor Retrin has been put on the steps of the town hall, with the historic clock tower looming over those assembled. Soon, the mayor will be giving a speech about the typical virtues espoused in small towns of hard work and community. Of course, such an occasion as the annual town founding celebration requires no less! As the closer for a night of festivities, most in the crowd are tired, with some small children being carried by their parents.

Some standouts in the crowd are the ever impeccable Zachariah Root, dressed in his typical suit and tie. He's known around town for his impeccable clothing choices, being the most arrogant man in any room he walks into, and for being either the owner or chief backer of most businesses in town. Officer Manley is standing on the edge of the crowd, keeping a sharp eye out for delinquent youth who might want to disrupt the festivities. A small gathering of fishermen, still in work clothes, are standing around in the middle of the crowd, looking to be having the time of their lives. Of course, this is probably because they're planning on visiting the speakeasy for a few rounds of technically legal drinks.

Now, where are you in the midst of this mix of humanity?

 

[Shane_357]

Gregory mingles, looking for any lead on work. He hears the fishermen talking and notes that he should follow when they leave; a speakeasy in a town as small as this might not be locked down by the mob and might have open jobs.

 

[Hybrid]

Rhys is leaning against one of the walls on the outskirts of the crowd, clearly uncomfortable around this large crowd of people. He keeps looking around, waiting for the speech to start so that he can head back home without to much fuss

 

[Ultimatum]

The speakeasy is more active then usual, most likely due to the ongoing celebration, but soon enough it should be filling up even more. Fortunately, Harald has had his fill already, no need to get completely drunk, especially when so many people are out and about. He finishes his glass of bourbon before standing up from the bar stool in a quick motion, it would be best if some of the more moral townsfolk didn't know he frequented this place so much, and as such he should try and be at least somewhat discreet about his habit.

Harald walks out of the bar, putting on his coat and fedora as he leaves. His style of clothing and the quality of it would and should tip of the people of the town of his more shady past. But due to its rather worn nature, he tends to fit in well enough.

The somewhat cold sea-air greets him, but he grew up in a town similar to this one and his clothes are thick enough for him to not caremuch at all. The tiredness of most days has not hit him yet either, despite working on renovating a nearby house for the better part of the morning and then later on simply wandering the town. As such, he decided to go and see the supposedly grand speech that the mayor of the town was going to be holding.

It would be better then going to bed early, sleep was an enemy that Harald had been yet unable to beat and he didn't yearn for another walk down memory lane in his dreams.

 

[Kensai]

A petite dark-haired woman stands close to Zachariah Root, dressed simply but smartly in a dark green wool knit dress that sets off her eyes. This is Katharine Hale, the latest addition to Root's secretarial pool, here to assist her rakish boss - a task that consists mostly of looking attractive enough to distract anyone he doesn't want to talk to, but not so attractive that it starts rumours. Unfortunately there's already a betting pool as to how long it'll be before she gets sent off in disgrace.

She's well aware of the chatter about town, and even in the office, but she's not about to let that spoil her evening. God knows, a girl like her, on the pay she gets from Mr. Root, can't afford too much by way of entertainment - not while keeping up a car of her own. That's a big part of the rumours right there. You'd think there hadn't been hundreds of women driving cars and trucks during the war, or that you couldn't get a car cheap if you spent enough time looking and were willing to get your hands dirty fixing it up.

But that's all by the by. She's smiling prettily and nodding vacantly, looking for all the world like the little piece of fluff people expect Mr. Root to keep by his side. They don't know that she's listening out for every word he says and that's said to him, keeping track of every request or proposal or promise. Mr. Root's a clever guy, but he can always use a quick reminder of what's gone on over the evening. That's how smart he is - smart enough to know to lean on other people when he ought to.

When it's all done and dusted, she'll write it all up, nice and neat in her notebook ready for when Mr. Root asks. In the meantime, she tries to forget how much her feet ache from standing and her face from smiling, and have as much fun as she can.

 

[Vozen]

Samson quietly enjoyed the atmosphere of the party, conversing with the few other physicians from the local clinic from a bench slightly out of the way of the center of things. Not one for big parties, he had let himself be egged into going by his eager colleagues for this particular one, and found himself having an alright time.

 

[TheMaskedReader]

Gregory mingles, looking for any lead on work. He hears the fishermen talking and notes that he should follow when they leave; a speakeasy in a town as small as this might not be locked down by the mob and might have open jobs.

Click to shrink...

Rhys is leaning against one of the walls on the outskirts of the crowd, clearly uncomfortable around this large crowd of people. He keeps looking around, waiting for the speech to start so that he can head back home without to much fuss

Click to shrink...

The speakeasy is more active then usual, most likely due to the ongoing celebration, but soon enough it should be filling up even more. Fortunately, Harald has had his fill already, no need to get completely drunk, especially when so many people are out and about. He finishes his glass of bourbon before standing up from the bar stool in a quick motion, it would be best if some of the more moral townsfolk didn't know he frequented this place so much, and as such he should try and be at least somewhat discreet about his habit.

Harald walks out of the bar, putting on his coat and fedora as he leaves. His style of clothing and the quality of it would and should tip of the people of the town of his more shady past. But due to its rather worn nature, he tends to fit in well enough.

The somewhat cold sea-air greets him, but he grew up in a town similar to this one and his clothes are thick enough for him to not caremuch at all. The tiredness of most days has not hit him yet either, despite working on renovating a nearby house for the better part of the morning and then later on simply wandering the town. As such, he decided to go and see the supposedly grand speech that the mayor of the town was going to be holding.

It would be better then going to bed early, sleep was an enemy that Harald had been yet unable to beat and he didn't yearn for another walk down memory lane in his dreams.

Click to shrink...

A petite dark-haired woman stands close to Zachariah Root, dressed simply but smartly in a dark green wool knit dress that sets off her eyes. This is Katharine Hale, the latest addition to Root's secretarial pool, here to assist her rakish boss - a task that consists mostly of looking attractive enough to distract anyone he doesn't want to talk to, but not so attractive that it starts rumours. Unfortunately there's already a betting pool as to how long it'll be before she gets sent off in disgrace.

She's well aware of the chatter about town, and even in the office, but she's not about to let that spoil her evening. God knows, a girl like her, on the pay she gets from Mr. Root, can't afford too much by way of entertainment - not while keeping up a car of her own. That's a big part of the rumours right there. You'd think there hadn't been hundreds of women driving cars and trucks during the war, or that you couldn't get a car cheap if you spent enough time looking and were willing to get your hands dirty fixing it up.

But that's all by the by. She's smiling prettily and nodding vacantly, looking for all the world like the little piece of fluff people expect Mr. Root to keep by his side. They don't know that she's listening out for every word he says and that's said to him, keeping track of every request or proposal or promise. Mr. Root's a clever guy, but he can always use a quick reminder of what's gone on over the evening. That's how smart he is - smart enough to know to lean on other people when he ought to.

When it's all done and dusted, she'll write it all up, nice and neat in her notebook ready for when Mr. Root asks. In the meantime, she tries to forget how much her feet ache from standing and her face from smiling, and have as much fun as she can.

Click to shrink...

As the murmurs of the crowd grow, the mayor takes the stage, stepping up behind the podium. "Fair citizens of Bloomshire!" He waves to the crowd, and most clap or let out a short yell. "It's almost time to finish up our annual celebration! Before I give my speech, I'd like to thank some people for attending! Zachariah Root, supporter of so many of the businesses and people of this town, thank you for helping to make this festival possible! Officer Manley and the other members of the police force, I'd like to thank you for keeping the peace and making sure the festivities were safe for everyone! And finally, I'd like to thank all of you, citizens! Without your hard work and dedication, Bloomshire would not be here!" He continues on like this for a while, pumping up the crowd on town pride and optimism. Most know that it's empty platitudes, but during these rough times, it's nice to have a pick me up every once in a while. It makes it easier to pretend that the rumors about layoffs at the cannery are just rumors, and the slowly rising prices are just a temporary thing.

As the mayor begins to wrap up his speech, something odd begins to happen. The entire area, the chirping of the birds, the little sounds of buzzing insects, even the creaking of trees just...ceases. All that can be heard is a distant crackling and the much much closer sound of buzzing. As if on cue, mere seconds after the silence, a man runs into the crowd, screaming in absolute terror. Behind him is a swarm of bugs, some kind of unholy cross of wasps and mosquitoes, which filter out amongst the crowd. Most scatter away from the swarm, swatting away those that get near. Curses fill the air as townsfolk are stung or perhaps bitten by the bugs. The man who the bugs were following is rolling around on the ground, trying to shake off the bugs that are stinging him.

What are you doing?

 

[Shane_357]

Gregory dives away, shielding his face and ears from the insects. Instead he receives a score of stings across his arms.

 

[Hybrid]

Rhys looks around, alarmed at the sudden panic of the crowd and the wasp, mosquito hybrids. He takes a step back in shock, his body turning with him as he runs away from the insects with fear.

 

[Ultimatum]

The mayor of Bloomshire begins his speech and very soon, he can already tell the nature of such a man as him. He is of similar cloth as a desperate salesman, trying to sell his wares before he goes bankrupt. A man like him has heard it all before, as such he felt no need to open his ears to the mayor. Soon enough, the man begins ending his speech, Harald is taken out of his thoughts, despite not having listened to the speech over much. He was one of the first to notice it, being at the very back of all the gathered townsfolk. He turns his head to look behind him, seeing a rapidly nearing man, running as fast as he can

It is not the sound of boots rapidly hitting themselves on the ground that he first hears, no. It is the incessant sound of buzzing, as if a swarm of locusts was upon them and soon afterwards Harald sees it. A swarm of insects following behind the running man, looking almost like some kind of dark cloud. However, he does not get to think about it overmuch as the first insect comes in, stinging a man standing next to him.

The illusion of a civilised speech is quickly broken as the rest of the insects follow after the precursor. Their numbers quickly near subsuming the fringes of the crowd, but some of them stay behind to deliberately sting the running man.

Harald takes it all in as quickly as he can, documenting the shape and speed of the insects in his mind, having some precious time as he began to quickly push and rush through people, using his brawn and strength to his advantage. However, as soon as he was done with his quick deduction, he quickly switches direction to run to a nearby building, kicking open the locked door as quickly as he can.

He calls out to nearby people, urging them to quickly rush in. He knew the reality of the situation though, if people took too long then he'd simply have to close the door to them. He could not afford to let the insects get into the building, and as such he quickly grabbed a nearby chair, readying to block the now broken door, yelling out for people to run in all the while.

Spoiler: Note

Anyone nearby-ish could hear the yelling, but those at the front mostly couldn't hear Harald over all the yelling and cursing.

 

[Kensai]

Katharine turns to run, but hesitates just a moment, throwing a glance at Mr. Root. What's her employer doing?

 

[Vozen]

Samson, along with his colleagues, rush off from the spot and take advantage of being on the edge of the mess. Though the type to want to help, they had to maintain their own health to heal others. Now, while the rest headed off to the hospital to get the appropriate treatment, Samson dashed in the direction of the department store. Likely he would not be in time to make a difference, but trying to get his hands on some bug killer was a good idea either way.

 

[TheMaskedReader]

Gregory dives away, shielding his face and ears from the insects. Instead he receives a score of stings across his arms.

Click to shrink...

The insects remain on your flesh. Instead of stinging you, they seem to be making many tiny pricks in your flesh. They aren't drawing blood in any way, but it feels like a needle being jabbed into you repeatedly.

Rhys looks around, alarmed at the sudden panic of the crowd and the wasp, mosquito hybrids. He takes a step back in shock, his body turning with him as he runs away from the insects with fear.

Click to shrink...

The insects don't bother to pursue, having found a crowd full of victims.

He calls out to nearby people, urging them to quickly rush in. He knew the reality of the situation though, if people took too long then he'd simply have to close the door to them. He could not afford to let the insects get into the building, and as such he quickly grabbed a nearby chair, readying to block the now broken door, yelling out for people to run in all the while.

Click to shrink...

Nobody takes advantage of the offer, many simply slapping at the insects, causing them to just squish, leaving behind a pinkish residue. An exodus of the crowd quickly occurs following the summary extermination of most of the bugs.

Katharine turns to run, but hesitates just a moment, throwing a glance at Mr. Root. What's her employer doing?

Click to shrink...

Her employer is unusually calm for the situation, his long sleeves and pants protecting him from the majority of insects. Any that start crawling on him, he simply flicks away with a disdainful look on his face. "Katharine, I suggest you head home. This odd occurence has almost certainly ruined most memories of the festival, and I expect that there will not be much of a crowd left after this." Indeed, most audience members are hurriedly exiting the area, smacking at their arms whenever they think they feel an insect on their skin. Nobody seems injured, though a man stands in a broken doorway, seemingly having kicked it in.

Samson dashed in the direction of the department store. Likely he would not be in time to make a difference, but trying to get his hands on some bug killer was a good idea either way.

Click to shrink...

As Sampson makes a dash for the department store, Officer Manson stops him. "Doctor Carnby, I understand you're in a hurry to get away from...this, but could I ask your aid in performing some basic first aid?" He gestures to the man who the insects were chasing. "He seems to have gotten off worse then most others, receiving particularly bad bites all over. The other folks should be fine, having only recieved a bite or two before getting rid of the pest."

 

[Vozen]

As Sampson makes a dash for the department store, Officer Manson stops him. "Doctor Carnby, I understand you're in a hurry to get away from...this, but could I ask your aid in performing some basic first aid?" He gestures to the man who the insects were chasing. "He seems to have gotten off worse then most others, receiving particularly bad bites all over. The other folks should be fine, having only recieved a bite or two before getting rid of the pest."

Click to shrink...

Slightly sighing, Samson nodded and retrieved his medical bag he kept on him likely more often then he needed to. "Right, best get him sitting or preferably laying down. My cohorts are getting some things for stings and bites, I daresay we'll need a lot before the day is out, but I can help this man at least."

That said, Samson moved to inspect the stung man, diagnosing his state and determining the best medical treatment.

 

[Shane_357]

The insects remain on your flesh. Instead of stinging you, they seem to be making many tiny pricks in your flesh. They aren't drawing blood in any way, but it feels like a needle being jabbed into you repeatedly.

Click to shrink...

Gregory crushes the little devils, but seizes the last, holding it up to his eyes to take a closer look.

 

[Hybrid]

The insects don't bother to pursue, having found a crowd full of victims.

Click to shrink...

Rhys ran through the streets, not stopping until he was breathing heavily. He stopped, stumbling slightly as he did so before pushing himself up against a wall. His mind raced with things he could have done instead of running like a coward and the guilt started to sink in a bit.

 

[Kensai]

Her employer is unusually calm for the situation, his long sleeves and pants protecting him from the majority of insects. Any that start crawling on him, he simply flicks away with a disdainful look on his face. "Katharine, I suggest you head home. This odd occurence has almost certainly ruined most memories of the festival, and I expect that there will not be much of a crowd left after this." Indeed, most audience members are hurriedly exiting the area, smacking at their arms whenever they think they feel an insect on their skin. Nobody seems injured, though a man stands in a broken doorway, seemingly having kicked it in.

Click to shrink...

Katharine gives Mr. Root an odd look; he's too calm, almost like he expected something like this to happen. But it's not the time to talk to him about it.

"Yes sir," she says with a hesitant nod. "I'll see you in the office as usual tomorrow."

And with that she runs off to the shelter of her car.

 

[Ultimatum]

Nobody takes advantage of the offer, many simply slapping at the insects, causing them to just squish, leaving behind a pinkish residue. An exodus of the crowd quickly occurs following the summary extermination of most of the bugs.

Click to shrink...

The townsfolk of Bloomshire continued running away from the insects, some getting stung in the progress. No one deigned to him up on the offer of sanctuary from those abominations of nature though, and he wasn't keen on getting stung himself, as such Harald quickly slammed the door shut. He blocked the door with the nearby chair, already expecting some insects to have gotten inside, they were insects after all.

As an additional act of safety, he decided to abandon the building, it would be best if he got as much distance between him and the crowd. After concluding his next action, Harald ran though the building, looking for a door out. After not finding one in a quick succession, he resigned himself to causing more damage to the house, seeing as there was no other option.

He took one of the coat's from the coat rack, wrapping it around his shoulder as a way to avoid hurting it, before he smashed open one of the windows on the other side of the house. He cleared the fairly large window of any pieces of glass before finally crawling through.

The buzzing of the insects seemed to already be clearing out, so he must be fairly far away from them already. Harald wasn't one to take chances though, so he decided to jog away from the house. Going down a dirt path towards the direction of his own house.

There was something wrong with those insects, for he had never laid his eyes on such things nor ever heard of them. Perhaps they were native to the area? Harald really had no clue as to what was going on.

Maybe it was time to skip town again. As much as he did like Bloomshire, he did not come to live here to have to deal with nightmarish insects that seemed to hold a grudge against humans.