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Post by FERNANDO ELIARD SILPH on Dec 6, 2018 4:56:22 GMT
|slateport is done for. from the wreckage comes a broken and battered league. they were caught off guard, unprepared for the onslaught brought on by rocket's surprise attack. their negligence had costed them a price they couldn't afford: their authority. not only did they lose their city but they also lost an essential portion of their soul. frends and family, lovers, colleagues-- the collective sum of spilt blood drains along slateport's sewer system as the smell of stark iron drowns out the seaside's briny waves. |
the discord spirals out of control. dissent is a slow and assiduous process. those who find their eyes dry, unable to grieve any longer, demand answers. dahlia goode is no longer a viable scapegoat so the answers are demanded from those next in line. yiannis castilla-somerville and ALEX HAWTHORNE are thrown to the wolves. accountability is an apt lie to dethrone them from their seats. senna doesn't get off so easily. the scandal that comes from the NIKOLAI PETROV incident stays internal but never dies down. the murmurs of the league in-fighting finally realizes trickle down economics. it's a shit show.
slateport is the catalyst that begets change. but that begs the question: who? few dare sacrifice themselves to the burden of taking over a disgraced administration. those who do, or those nominated in secret, become the center of attention during the month long transition post slateport. gossip travels fast and the organization that was once united finds itself divided once more. campaigns, slander, and general politics take foothold until inner elections come to a close. the votes are tallied and the results paint four distinct winners.
the league awaits their new heroes. four individuals, all special in their own ways, each well liked enough to garner the necessary votes to reign above the others, will take the stage during today's grand announcement. they've all been notified in advance and will have their chance to address their new subordinates.
before the curtain call, before they establish themselves as the new council members, they wait for the cue. the four of them serve a new bond, a single title that makes them gods among men and legends to be felled. they may disagree, they may come into conflict, but they all share a unique hardship. this is their first and last chance to collaborate, to serve their greetings and congratulations before they're summoned to address the hundreds in attendance and thousands at home.
fernando sinks deeper into the lounge chair as their deadline closes. he just wants it over with. the longer the wait draws out the more his anxiety grows. his morbid curiosity on what the others will say is only kept at bay by the fact that they'll reveal their speeches soon enough. fidgety fingers drum against his arm rest as the seconds tick by. "any preference on who goes first?"
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