]

Tormay had heard some griping in the arena that night. He didn't pay it much attention, the duels had his focus. Besides, Old Man Tass was not someone you took lightly.

Even so, a break was needed halfway through. It would never be setteled who was waiting for whom. Tormay for Tass, or Tass for Tormay. It wasn't important really. Tormay was just glad to spend time with Tass, his Father-in-Law, even if he wouldn't ever say it out loud. Not in those words.

It was during this break that he overheard the others, Sivanna, Aja, and Anya.

"How does it feel to be illegal?" He didn't even notice who had asked that, or who they were asking. It was just an interesting question, enough so that who looked out of the ring.

"Illegal" Wha?"

In response, a crumpled ball of paper was thrown into the ring. He bent down to pick it up, opening it quickly to read. A frown quickly replaced his usual grin as he absorbed the meaning and implications of the flyer.

"Seriously' I'd like to see them try to make me register," He crumpled it back up and tossed it over his shoulder back out of the ring.

I might be a troublemaker and enjoy a good prank, but I have never broken the law. This is RhyDin, of course a lot of crimes have been done involving magic. There is just a lot of magic. They better not come after me, or my family, or anyone I know. Geez, this better not turn ugly...

"Hey, you done with your break?" using the duels as a distraction always worked for him.

"Me? I was waiting on you," the response from Tass drew a grin from Tormay. It wouldn't be so hard to forget about this. For now.

"Don't be going out there right now, girl, you'll get your limbs ripped off!"

Niamh turned at the doorway of the little herbalist's shop where she worked to stare in confusion at her employer. He was dancing from one foot to another, gesturing out through the window at the people gathered in the marketplace to protest against something or other.

"Why would they do anythin' tae me" I'm nae involved -" she began, but he cut her off with an impatient wave of his hand.

"You're magic, that's all they need to know." He pulled her away from the door, locking it quickly, and sat her down. "And it shows now, more than it did when you were fighting it."

"But ....why would bein' magic put me in danger durin' a protest?" Niamh was utterly bewildered.

The old herbalist sighed and sat down with her. And she listened, as he explained the Proposition that was being proposed to regulate magic users and the reasons behind it.

"But that's ridiculous!" she exclaimed. "Ye may as well arrest th' whole town if'n ye're goin' tae do that! The good that comes from magic here far outweighs th' bad, they're pickin' at cobwebs tae make themsel's popular!"

"Aye, but there's nothin' you or I can do against it at present," the old herbalist nodded, waving his hands in agitation. "Forty years I've lived here, no fear of being caught out in my casting. They think I deal in herbs only, but you know better. You do what I do, girl; we're both in danger."

But Niamh's thoughts were elsewhere, with Lilli and Brish. The sister who exuded magic with every step she took, and the brother who had no control over his own power except when he had great need of them. And the countless others in the city and surrounding lands ....how many of them would be persecuted for the wrong-doings of just a few?

"Aye, that we are," she agreed. "But we cannae jus' stand by an' let this happen. There must be somethin' we can do, if'n we all pull together."

The herbalist looked at her hopelessly. "Aye, that there is," he muttered in defeat. "We can all go to the gallows together."

Desolation, despondent, deep in thought....

'Don' le' them in anymore, Lilli ol' girl. Don' le' them see ya' cry, don' le' them ea' away a'yer hear'..' Breathe in, breathe out; the witch's days since the events as of late were very meager things. To have one's very self be subject to evil was a loathsome realization, even more so that on some primal, forgotten level of herself, she'd enjoyed it.

Proposition 37 was just another needle threatening to break her mental haystack. Though the fiery buxom was wrought in her own self pity, the spark that always glowed within her gypsy heart kept her going, kept the wheels turning.

Perhaps a sabbatical was in order. The likelihood of one grew more and more each day, and though the witch was not one to flee from conflict, the fragile part left of her spirit was threatening to snuff out with all the endless days of piteous monotony that strangled her thoughts. Even simple tasks that once came with the snap of a well placed pair of fingers was becoming tiresome; her magic was suffering, the connection with her Goddess seemed so cold and distant despite the warmth of the earth beneath her feet.

It was time to leave the populous for a while, the witch decided. Time to seek the forgotten paths of the wild and find their hearts. Such paths would lead to her own rekindling and enlightenment.

Lilliana would not leave the city she'd come to know as a home without some sprig of protection either; oh no. Those who knew the gypsy lass on a more personal and friendly level would feel a comforting presence even in the darkest of hours. A glow of warmth in the coming cold front, a flicker of flame in the moonless night, a sliver of brightness in the impending darkness; while her presence was not corporeal, it would feel so. Lilli's spell was a thing meant to calm and embolden, to keep emotional minds clear and dark thoughts at bay.

A note would be left for those both friend and foe who came seeking the witch, tapped into the grain of her caravan's door ever so neatly with a fine iron tack.

'Into the wild I go Seek abandon I must My power suffers In the Goddess I will trust Bare feet will carry me The wind will kiss my skin Magic will set the spirit free'

~ Lilliana McClae

Chaos.

This city reeled with it everyday. The eddies and swirls of it ate up the sun and cast shivering shadows, slivers of discord from alleyway to bright streets, dark buildings and dingy corners. It is what made this city live, to Suliss'urn, it is that which made it bright and almost home—though the drow would not admit the latter to anyone, rarely even herself.

So when it was stirred up beyond the usual point it whet the dark-elf's appetite, curled around her mind like Sal's little piece of living armor clutching her thigh behind woolen breeches: intimate and clinging. Her mind was all abuzz about the current fliers. She watched at night as one gathering group would tear some of them down and another would return to paste more over the half-torn replacements. A never ending cycle that began to pump closer and closer to an all out rising tide. Just a muttering of disbelief and shock for now, outrage in expressions and written words—but it could get ugly fast.

And she so adored it when things got beautifully ugly.

Plotting and planning and spinning her little mind-webs, the drow watched the city and its reaction to this Proposition 37, good and bad. Gorging herself in the cacophony of voices or pieces of paper flooding every square, she pondered muchly on what she might do to further this. How could she, Suliss'urn, most beautiful and obviously best drow in the entire realm (ego' What ego"), could throw everyone into a further frenzy.

One night it came to her.

———-

Corpses blatantly left on the main road in plain sight. It was the baker woman and the butcher that found them first, as they were usually the first to arise and begin work to have their shops ready for morning opening.

The baker woman had to be carried off by the watch, as when she found them she would not stop screaming and the sound of it carried several blocks, spooking livestock, horses and people to the bone alike.

One Watch member had to leave the scene, sobbing into his gauntlet hands over and over he could not stop saying, "Someone chewed on them, gods be damned, chewed! They were children, for the love of all that is holy—children!"

Two children, taken from local orphanage— only recognizable (and later identifiable), by the body parts not mangled. They were taken from from the streets they worked and deposited proudly. Teeth and claws and broken bones and marrow sucked out—chewed on like cats chew on mice.

At first, the Watch was going to pin it down on yet another large, wild animal wandering around Rhy'din unchecked. It wasn't until one of the boys saw the morning sun crest on the red-brick of a building across from them that everyone froze.

Written in the fluids and brain-matter, bits of bone and hair on the wall were the words: Frightened for your children" Frightened for yourself? YOU SHOULD BE. Without magic; more of us shall be free to slither along the shadows hunting, without stop eating, until gorged full feeding, until sick feasting, until there are nothing left but bones say yes, please oh please, say yes, vote yes go ahead 37 YOU'RE NEXT

A large poster is left on a wall near the site of many of the protests both for and against the supposed 'Proposition 37.' It is printed on parchment paper, as tamper-proof as any flier can be, and marked prominently with the seal of House DeMuer, a sun cross with a symbol in each quarter. Nothing like it has been posted since the conclusion of the gubernatorial election.

It reads as follows:

To the legislative bodies responsible for Proposition 37,

House DeMuer, the Barony of Saint Aldwin, DeMuer Exports and its subsidiary, Greyshott Applied Magicks & Engineering, do not and will not consent to be governed by you, and there are no contracts in place that require us to respect whatever authority over us you may claim. Your legal control over all residents of RhyDin City is an absurd idea, and if you insist on any authority over members of our aforementioned organizations, it will be met with the appropriate legal action.

Magick is by nature dynamic and amorphous, and its regulation is impossible in a city tied to dramatic shifts in the Nexus and the Multiverse itself. Proposition 37 is not only an oppressive measure backed by no legitimate authority whatsoever; it is also without any merit. Magick allows many technologies to proliferate that would otherwise be impossible in practice or expense in RhyDin; it also enables incredible life-saving measures to be taken by healers, where most medical technologies would fail. Anchored rifts and gates that depend on magick are vital to our strong economy, and bring goods in infinite variety into the city. Additionally, RhyDin and the West End in particular are famous as a shelter for those who do not wish to be found, often fleeing from violent persons or regimes in other realms.

If regulation of magick use and users were actually acknowledged by the general populace, the results would be nothing short of catastrophic.

Should the measure pass by whatever methods you subject it to, we will not acknowledge it as a contractual obligation of any of our organizations or their members. Any attempt to to seize any of our property will be treated as theft, and we will respond to it by involving the Watch and local militias dedicated to the common respect of life and property; we will also exercise our right to "castle law," such that any persons coming onto our property with violent intent will be met with force. Any attempt to seize any member of our organizations, even to coerce them to register as a magick user, will be treated as a kidnapping, and we will take the actions we are entitled to in order to protect and/or rescue them.

Any person who feels they are being coerced by these legislative bodies is welcome to come to us for aid; our holdings can be found by looking for the seal of House DeMuer, usually carved into a cornerstone.

As another body of people who were interested in protecting their rights to life and property once said to an oppressive power, do not tread on us.

Signed,

Alain DeMuer Baron of Saint Aldwin, Chief Executive Officer of DeMuer Exports, Leader of House DeMuer

Trea Daviin Speaker for the Council of the Barony of Saint Aldwin

Dib Jaster Aurene Deputy Executive Officer of DeMuer Exports

Silas Greyshott Master Mage of Greyshott Applied Magicks & Engineering

At the bottom of the flier, the motto DO NOT TREAD ON US is repeated, intertwined with the image of a serpent.

Another parchment was posted much in the same fashion as the House DeMeur poster:

Lest we forget.

The Committee for Proposition 37 lies to the populace of Rhydin and resorts to fear mongering likes the which have not bee seen in decades.

House Uth Dravon stands with House DeMeur in it's refusal to abide such an oppressive motion. The stances House DeMeur has taken hold true for House Uth Dravon. All who seek refuge from this Coercive action are welcomed to come to us for Aid

Lady Onyxia Uth Dravon Dragonbane Magistrate of Order, Council of Elders

}"{ N"ble H"use Uth "rav"n }"{ "United we stand, divided we fall; Unity amongst diversity."

((For More see: Taking a Stance - Proposition 37))

((Continues here - Cost of Hatred - Proposition 37))

Medics were on the scene along with the watch. It was a grim sight to behold. The young man had been doing nothing more than shopping. His only crime" Being able to access magic.

The medics made a decision to bring the young mage to Riverview where there was at least one Healer known to be on staff.

"Rhydin EMS to Riverview Clinic. Transporting Caucasian Male, Late 20s. Multiple contusions, blunt force trauma. Subject in critical condition."

"You can't read that in here!"

The Elven cleric looked up from her study of her spellbook curiously. She had decided to take a long lunch that afternoon at La Maison Vert-- a quaint little caf" just ten minutes from Riverview Clinic by foot. Arching a champagne brow curiously, she looked down. The caf"-owner must have noticed that she was studying blank pages a little too diligently. Or perhaps it was the gold-embossed Shyl o Pas Tandros on the cover (Read: Book of Dark Magick.) Was the gentleman learned in Elvish' Whatever the case, the disagreeable silver-haired human was glaring at her, conflicted. The turn of his mouth made her wonder if he hadn't eaten a sour lemon a few seconds prior.

?" Excuse me?" Sivanna asked politely, regarding the man from over a pair of thin-framed rectangular reading lenses.

"Look. I've got a mind of what that is you're reading, and if you want to keep drinking your coffee here, you'll put it away, Miss."

The elfess blinked in surprise a few times before a perturbed line creased her brow.

"I do beg your pardon, but I have every right to sit in a public place and read as anyone else does"!" she argued firmly. Every second the fellow lingered rudely by her table was one that tried the cleric's patience.

The man sighed and leaned over Sivanna's shoulder to murmur something into her ear.

"Listen. I don't got anything against you. You're a good customer and all. But see those men over there?"" he asked, catching the elfess's gaze and leading it to a table a few feet away. Three burly gentlemen seated with anti magick pins on their shirts had turned their attention on the minor disagreement she and the owner were having.

?" They don't like your kind. I don't want no trouble, ya hear" And I get a lot of non-magick customers in here. So why don't you just put it away?"

Sivanna was about to protest again, but after noting the man's skittish unease, she merely sighed, closed her book, and slid it quietly into her briefcase.

There went her appetite. Rising steadily, the elfess swept up her briefcase and made for the tiny gate that separated the outdoor patio from the rest of the city. As she passed by that table, however, one of the men jerked in his seat, leaned over, and spat on the ground before her. Had she been a half-second later, she might have been in that line of fire.

Steel eyes ablaze, Siv paused and turned her fiery gaze onto the human, who merely sneered.

"Tasaerer, cestal," she hissed in Elvish. Careful, human. The oblivious look on that man's face had her content for the time being. Rather that utilize any number of hostile spells she'd in mind at the moment, Sivanna carefully sidestepped that sign of disrespect and proceeded out the gate and back toward Riverview.

"I can't believe this," she muttered somberly, as she passed several bulletin boards laden with the Proposition 37 fliers. "I did not leave one war to come and fight another one.?

Still, that sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach only sunk more deeply as the number of supporters for the ridiculous legislation continued to grow.

"Are you sure it's safe here?" asked the human.

"For all their conviction," said the elf, "they seem to keep their protests secluded to the city. We are safe here."

A small group of concerned citizens met outside the city walls. There was a hollow clearing five miles out from the eastern gate where they found it safe to congregate. The group consisted of an elf, a human, and one jittery looking gnome.

"My wife's gonna have my head for this," lamented the gnome. "I promised her I wasn't going to get myself involved in no more heroic tomfoolery, and you boys are gonna get me killed for this." The clearing made him uneasy; it was far too quiet. There weren't even any night bugs chirping. The gnome kept wringing his hands and looking around wildly.

"Calm yourself, Fremal," the elf soothed gently. "The others will be along shortly."

"Provided they ain't gone and got themselves clobbered by those fanatics," protested the human. "If I were married, Mithion, I'm sure my wife would have my hide too."

"Osvaldo, please. You will only make matters worse." The elf gestured to the fidgeting gnome.

Fremal was pacing the length of the clearing. "What's taking them so long?" he asked nervously.

Then, tearing through the silent dark, the three of them heard screaming. Osvaldo was the first to jump to attention. "What was that?" The human drew a wand from his belt and pointed it defensively in the direction in which the screams had come from.

"Screaming," said Mithion, stating the obvious. The elf turned a hand out, palm down and fingers splayed. A weirwood staff leapt out of the ground and into his grasp.

The gnome had pulled something small out of his pocket, tossed it to the ground and muttered a word. That small something glowed and then erupted in size, sprouting up into a metallic globe of some sort. Fremal ran up to the sphere, touched a panel on the side, and a door opened, which he dove into. The door clanked shut tight behind him.

They were not just any screams. Mithion had heard screams like that before. They were the agonized, screeching, terrified screams of the dying. "No kidding they're screams," hissed Osvaldo.

"Those may be our comrades," said Mithion. With staff in hand, the elf loped into the trees and raced toward the sounds of the screaming.

"What're you doing, you bloody fool!" But Osvaldo raced after him in kind.

Safe and secure inside his metal sphere, Fremal the gnome listened to the muffled screams and shouts of a battle going on a few hundred yards away. The battle raged on for hours long into the night, longer still into the morning hours. He thought for sure that the cause was from those Proposition supporting fanatics having followed the rest of their group and ambushing them before they could all meet.

At dawn, when all was silent and still, Fremal Multiwedge crawled out of his sphere, packed it up to the size of a coin, and tred cautiously in the direction where he had last heard the sounds of battle. There was a putrid stink in the air that hung thick like the fog that follows a storm. There had been a storm last night, a mage's storm, but in the clearing all that he saw were bodies.

With a cry of anguish, Fremal fled as fast as his little gnomish feet could carry him all the way back to the city. Once there, he found the first member of the City Watch he could, as well as a local news reporter. Those M.E.R.A. fanatics had gone too far!

It never once occurred to him that perhaps they hadn't been responsible at all.

(See also: Members of Magers Alliance Assassinated.)

There was a popular early Earthen saying that went something along the lines of "the better the witch, the better the midwife". It does not take a great mental leap to figure out why they believed that witchcraft and midwifery went hand-in-hand. After all, birth is a magical process in and of itself. When you combine that with the midwife's knowledge of anatomy and healing herbs, even the most non-magical midwife can seem to be quite mage-like.

There were both magical and non-magical midwives throughout RhyDin but Ballard Birthing (as it was unofficially known) was one of the more popular magical midwifery practices in the city. Thus, Serena was not the least bit surprised by the crowd that had gathered outside the low stone wall around the house.

Serena with Rosie at her side had visited their morning appointments and made sure that all the week's births were nursing greedily and their mothers resting as comfortably as could be expected. The tension in the city was palpable but it was a fight Serena wanted no part of. Survival was about keeping a low profile and Serena was all about survival.

Rosie was the first to notice as they rounded the corner and she tugged on the strap of Serena's bag to alert her. "'oo are all them blokes?"

The signs were the first thing that caught Serena's eyes. No longer were they crudely painted on cardboard. No, they now had printed signs. Proposition 37!, they declared. She reached out to stop Rosie, grabbing her arm a bit more roughly than she had intended to draw her to a stop. "Ow! Blimey, Serena!"

"Hush," Serena whispered harshly as she surveyed the crowd. Some she recognized. Some she did not. They called at the house and shook their signs angrily. Serena hoped that Mrs. Ballard was not inside. She would not be able to resist attempting to reason with them.

But there is no reasoning with a mob.

Rosie had silenced at the aghast look on Serena's face. When Serena turned that look on Rosie, she swallowed hard. "We are going to walk to the house. Those people are going to shout awful things and you are going to want to respond but you must remain silent. Do you understand?"

Her arm hurt. Serena's hand was still tightly gripping her bare upper arm. Rosie was sure it would bruise. She merely nodded.

Serena squeezed tighter. Her dark eyes met Rosie's green eyes full on. "I'm serious, Rosie. If you say anything at all we both could be in very grave trouble."

"I understand, Serena." It came in a petrified whisper. Part of her was curious to know what caused such fright in her older friend and the other part of her hoped that she wouldn't have to find out.

Finally convinced that Rosie would keep quiet, Serena released her hold on the girl's arm and slipped her hand further down to take her hand. They started out once again. "Let's keep our chins up, alright' We shouldn't let them see us scared. We've done nothing wrong."

Rosie tipped up her chin on command and the minute she did, they were noticed. She felt the negative energy turn from the stone house which could withstand any verbal barrage onto them. Her feet wanted to slow the pace but Serena's hand tightened on her's, dragging her along.

"Witches! You killed my baby!" The first shout came from Mrs. Fields. She had a miscarriage several months before. Clearly, she had forgotten the three healthy babies that Mrs. Ballard had delivered for her over the years. Her husband was at her side along with a handful of her neighbors. They echoed her cries.

Rosie also recognized Mr. and Mrs. Fletcher in the crowd. How could she dare be here" "You made me barren!" Mrs. Fletcher's screechy voice made Rosie's entire frame tightened.

After her sixth healthy birth, Mrs. Fletcher had begged Mrs. Ballard to find a way to make her barren as her husband demanded more children. After attempting to convince her to speak with her husband about the issue for many moons, Mrs. Ballard eventually agreed. Of course, in a household of six children even the walls had ears and when her husband found out about what his wife had done, she had blamed it entirely on Mrs. Ballard.

Serena said nothing but walk forward. She swung the gate open for them and then pushed it back, allowing it to bang shut. Usually when Rosie let the gate bang like that, she would get yelled at by Serena or Mrs. Ballard. Rosie was in no mood to point out the double standard.

Rosie thought she was pretty proficient in vulgar language but some of the crude calls that were aimed at their backs were foreign even to her. When Serena shut the house's great green door behind them, she latched it with an angry growl. "What's going on, Serena" Why are those people so angry' Can we not do something about it' Should we send for the guard?"

The questions went unanswered as Serena turned from the door and came face to face with Mrs. Ballard who was pulling her shawl over her shoulders. Serena shook her head firmly at Mrs. Ballard. "You are most certainly not going out there."

"I have known those people for years, Serena. I shall settle them and send them on their way. This Proposition 37 business is such nonsense," Mrs. Ballard muttered.

"This is no game. Do you two understand me?" The sternness in Serena's tone drew even Mrs. Ballard to an uneasy halt. "This is dangerous and we don't have a lot of offensive magical abilities between the three of us. We're healers and who do really think these mobs are going to go after first' The fire-breathing, lightning-throwing mages living in their grand towers or the practically defenseless healers living exposed in the middle of the city?"

Mrs. Ballard crossed her arms over her chest. She did not like the logic but it was difficult to argue with. "Then what exactly would you have us do, Serena" Abandon our patients?"

"Never." Serena pressed her back up against the door as if she could keep all that anger out. "Rosie will leave the city for her mother's for a while. You and I will move into the Inn and continue to care for the women of this city. Panther will never allow these people into his house."

The plan was laid out with such assertion that Rosie could not argue even though she wished to refuse to return to her mother's. All she could do was turn her sharp green eyes on Mrs. Ballard and listen for her response. The great clock in the hallway ticked away the seconds while Mrs. Ballard accepted what she did not wish to even consider.

"I see no other way," she allowed.

Serena gave a firm nod, motioning them both from the door. "Then we need to start packing. The crowd will disperse when they get hungry enough for dinner. That will be the best time for us to leave. We need to get out of here before nightfall. With darkness always comes violence."

Another morning, another trip to the marketplace.

Ever so small, so petite, so fragile; a minute, winged figure had laden herself heavy once more for her bi-weekly harvest. It was the flowers you see, her presence in the tucked away little home she had always yielded the most odd and lovely blossoms. Spindle thin fingers wound themselves around the knotted end of a cart's lead, baring sapphire iris' and potted fire mums, bales of sunset tipped goldenrods and bushels of the season's ripest lavender.

Living in such a nook little cottage the fallen seraphim and her demon lover didn't often pay much attention to the town's politics or it's rabble. Laoell's path to the floral shop was short and there was a very large Ogre that held good standings with the community that had let it be known his fondness for the little winged maiden.

Not today, unfortunately.

"Hey! Wha's tha' lil' thing!" Look'et 'er wings!" Came a wayward cry.

The noise drew the dark eyed angel's attention, her slender brow draw loose with confusion as she looked up from her path. Her sandaled feet slowed as the creak of her little pulley cart followed suite.

"Yeah, yeah! Its thae blasphemous little angel woman! Its the one who caused all that ruckus wit' the man forgetting 'is pregnant wife!" A woman screeched this time, chiming to aid her fellow magic fearer in his confusion.

"What"!" Outrage, uproar; picket signs swaying as more eyes turned to the doe caught in the line of their verbal bow.

Laoell flinched, as if physically stricken, her already pale features blanching further as the protesting crowd reared like some massive wildfire, tearing it's path towards her. The roped knot fell from her little fingers as both hands came up in some meager defense for herself, words stuttering. "I...I have done nothing. Please, what is all this?"

Dark hair, swollen, well-deep eyes, pale, off-white gown, gossamer wings unfolding and twitching in her growing fright.

"She knows the big Ogre creature too! Monstrous thing!" More clamoring, my rabbling fray.

The murk was thickening about her, bodies closing in as a stone came hurtling from the sea of heads, a broken piece of road rubble that landed short of Laoell's feet. She gasped none the less, startled as this dark cloud of ill folk descended upon her out of no where. The day had been so seamless, her morning of warm arms and sweet nothings from her ruby-eyed lover so superb; what had she done"

Despite the closing circle the yammering of the angry crowd made, the angel made a tentative step to push through the ranks.

She was pushed back, roughly, and the volume of discontent about her continued to rise. Disbelief and fear washed her small features, frail limbs shaking as she came to realize this crowd was filled with not only strange faces, but familiars as well. Customers from the floral shop, familiar faces she'd greeted Throx with during their many strolls. What had happened to cause such chaos? Surely her own mistakes had not risen such a fright among the populous of the town. Surely....Surely this was a dream'

Then someone grasped at one of her wings.

"Hold her! Rip them off the harpie!" It was as if the crowd became one, collective mind; a hive. Blood was on their minds, blood wanted and needed from some instinct of anger derived from fear. This innocent who'd strayed into their path was just...

Collateral damage.

"NO!" Shrieked with the most soul wrenching note of terror, the wide eyed Laoell flung her downy limbs wide, flinging back the grasping hands as well as rising a few gasps through the crowd as well. For the first time since her falling, she rose.

She stumbled through the air, half falling and knocking into tall treetops; thus it was for the angel's first flight, a soaring born of fear.

Proposition 37 Text

The text that follows is the official statutory language of the M.E.R.A., as submitted to the Assistant Attorney General of RhyDin in August 2009.

Section 1. Title.

This Act shall be known and may be cited as the "Mage and Enchanter Registration Act of 2009." Section 2. Findings and Declarations

I. The People of RhyDin hereby find and declare the following:

a. Failure to provide adequate law enforcement is a costly mistake. b. RhyDin's law enforcement system has failed in its mission to ensure the safety of our streets from initial and repeat magic(al) offenders. c. Prisons, both state and federal, are ill equipped to adequately incarcerate violent criminals. d. Temporary punishment alone often fails to change criminal behavior, particularly when such behavior is equipped with irregulatable means of weaponry. e. RhyDin fails to deliver an adequate magic educational system that secures the safety of both magic and non-magic users with regard to arcane methods. f. Recent studies have indicated that the crime rate by and among magic-users has escalated 61 percent in the past three years. g. Of those magic-related crimes, 40 percent were committed by repeat offenders, while 11 percent were ruled accidental. h. Quintessence/Mana trade and exchange accounts for 55 percent of all export profit. i. Currently, only 13 percent of wild(e) magic/mana is considered regulated.

II. Regulation to Enhance Public Safety

a. Public safety is enhanced when parolees are documented and monitored following the termination of their incarceration. b. Public safety is enhanced when crimes are deterred, or criminals are promptly arrested following the commitment of a repeat offense. c. Public safety is enhanced when weapons dealers are required to run a background check on every firearm or armament purchase. d. Public safety is enhanced when every legal purchase of a weapon enrolls the purchaser on a federal roster. e. Public safety is enhanced when weapons training is sufficiently supervised by trained employees of the state. f. RhyDin can protect public safety, save indefinite amounts of money, and deter violent magic(k) acts by:

i. Encouraging the federal education of qualified magic-users. ii. Restricting the use of magic(k) to qualified users. iii. Mandating the licensing of any and all magic-users, thus enrolling those users on a federal watch list. iv. Treating violent magical acts with a zero-tolerance methodology. Section 3. Purposes and Intents

The People hereby declare that the intents and purposes of this measure are to: a. Prevent voluntary crime by documenting abilities and description during registration. b. Prevent accidental crime by punishing the usage of unregulated magic(s). c. Reduce time and money spent on criminal investigations (with regard to magic(k)) burdened with no significant suspects. d. Provide appropriate incentives and rewards to magic-user registration, and swiftly and justly encourage the unregistered to be licensed.

Section 4. New Government Duties

I. The Governor will recognize Proposition 37 as a mandate for the registration of any and all magic users presently living in RhyDin. II. The Government Code will amend to formally include the Mage and Enchanter Registration Act. III. The government will recognize and assign equipped federal employees capable of arcane modus to an enforcement division.

a. The M.E.R.A. will be enforced by no fewer than eleven hundred arcane-equipped employees; so to be named the Mage and Enchanter Registration Coalition. (M.E.R.C.) b. The M.E.R.C. will be led by a division deputy chief learned in matters of the arcane, and recommended by the Senate.

IV. The Governor, upon recommendation of the division chief, may appoint two undersecretaries to oversee the M.E.R.A, subject to Senate confirmation. V. Refusal to abide by the M.E.R.A. will be treated as a federal offense, and will be dealt with as such. VI. Repeated refusal will end in recommendation of that subject for incarceration or seclusion. VII. Unlicensed magic-users caught wielding magic will be immediately arrested and sentenced to no less than one year in federal prison, following mandatory registration.

Section 5. Meaning of Voting Yes/No

(A.) A YES vote on this measure means:

i. Consistent registration of all magic-users censused. ii. The institution of the M.E.R.C. to penalize the illegal use of magic(s). iii. Federally-funded programs to encourage efficient and adequate training in sorcery academies for registered users. iv. The implementation of monitory means for significantly forcible users of the arcane.

(B.) A NO vote on this measure means:

i. Magic(al) and arcane means will continue to be unregulated. ii. Local law enforcement will continue to house magic(al) criminals with non-magic(al). iii. Sorcery academies will continue to be funded by state means alone.

In response to the Legislative Proposal being circulated.

Who are these people that have assumed control over our lives"

Who is the Assistant Attorney General that has accepted this Proposal" You don't know, nor do I because this person DOES NOT EXIST.

Where are these so-called state and Federal Prisons that have been ill-equipped" THEY DO NOT EXIST

Rhydin have several schools for the education of magic users, but the Governor refuses to make education compulsary. AND HE IS RIGHT

Where are these so-called studies that highlight the increased crime-rate by magic users" THEY DON'T EXIST

Where is this Quintessence/Mana Trade" BASED ON AN INTERVIEW WITH A BEING THAT HAS BEEN PROVEN TO BE LIES.

What is seen here is an attempt for unknown people to set them selves up as a government without the proper representation. When did this federal government spring into being"

People of Rhydin:

You are being forced to accept a government that YOU DID NOT ELECT. You are being lied to by people that are setting themselves up to RULE.

Do not fall for their lies. DO not fall for their cries of "For the Children." Children are being injured daily and torment by the supporters of this act.

This is not for the "Children." No child should be forced to live in fear. And yet this is what we are seeing daily!

A VOTE FOR PROPOSITION 37 IS A VOTE FOR TYRANNY AND GOVERNMENT WITHOUT PROPER REPRESENTATION!!

}"{ N"ble H"use Uth "rav"n }"{ First Great Noble House of Rhydin Member of the Soverign Houses of Royal Rhydin Imperium

"United we stand, Divided we fall; Unity amongst diversity."

"Headmaster! Headmaster! Have you seen this"!"

Briarius looked at the exhausted youth approaching him and thrust a piece of paper into his hands.

The Headmaster of Ravensheart Academy, RhyDin's only learning academy sanctioned by the Office of the Governor, looked at this Proposition 37.

"If Proposition 37 passes, the school would get funding from the government!"

"Zelwyn, what government do you speak of?"

"Well, RhyDin's government...", the young Zelwyn looked at Briarius as if he had gone mad.

"Tell me what kind of government does RhyDin have?"

"Um..." Zelwyn was at a loss. He never really considered it before. "Since we have an elected Governor, wouldn't that make RhyDin a republic?"

"Using that reasoning alone, yes. Consider however, Lady Kairee. Does Lady Kairee acknowledge the title of Governor of RhyDin?"

"According to you, no."

"Does the governor seek her out and have her imprisoned or punished for flouting the government?"

"No."

"Also consider the tale of the old RhyDin City Watch. What happened to them?"

"They were disbanded."

"By whom?"

"By the rulers of RhyDin City...of which no one has ever claimed to see."

The Headmaster chuckled at the youth's confusion.

"So, I ask you again. What kind of government does RhyDin City have?"

"I...I...don't know."

"The fact of the matter is that we have an ochlocracy. The lack of formalized government also going so far as saying that we don't even have an anarchism. Essentially, might makes right is very apropos to this, but in a very limited and small sort of way. Take Ravensheart Academy for example. Within the school's borders, I am the only recognized authority. No one else challenges that. The only way that the supporters of this Proposition 37 could hope to enforce this is to have the power to enforce it. Being as far reaching as this legislation is, that would take an immense amount of power. Now go, and think about this and it's true implications."

Zelwyn left, leaving Briarius to think.

"Perhaps I should pen an open letter to RhyDin."

The following is an excerpt from a press conference held by Diedra Vall on Tuesday, September 1, 2009.

Vall: Citizens of RhyDin: I have called this press conference to address some of the rumors that have been circulating regarding Proposition 37. Let me begin by saying that I aim on conducting this conference with the utmost civility, and I hope you all exercise the same favor.

For your benefit, the text of Proposition Thirty-Seven can now be found in hard copy at Prop 37 Headquarters, and I have been informed that many small business owners in support of the legislation are making copies available in their stores. I ask that everyone hold his or her question until I have finished. Let me first address concern with regard to the M.E.R.C. A lot of tumult has been raised over this proposed organization, and many have questioned the origin of funding and force for this program, and the constitutional right of enforcement. Let me remind the public that this bill is backed by a significant group of supporters capable of enforcing it. RhyDin has a sizeable population, and should the legislation pass, arrangements will be made for the employment of the M.E.R.C. as the need arises by a privately instituted organization on the M.E.R.A.'s behalf.

That brings me to another rumor that has begun to circulate. According to recent allegations, the Proposition Thirty-Seven proposal is groundless due to the fact that its main support is derived from someone with no physical presence on RhyDin. Ladies and gentlemen, let me assure you that Asst. Attorney Gen. Laurens Aasen has been an avid supporter of this bill from the start, and his offices are located in the downtown Marketplace. If you require his address or means of contact, you need only open a directory. If you cannot find one, see me.

Next, I would like to address the recent violent activity both of Proposition 37 supporters and opponents. I would like to inform the public that I plan to visit Wesley Wright, a victim of that assault, who is now a patient at the Riverview Clinic, and personally apologize. I have been told that all other public criminal acts such as the recent Magers Alliance assassination, and the incident with the break-in and unfortunate gruesome vandalization of public property have both been ruled as unrelated and misdemeanor, respectively.

- Tumultuous clamor on the part of the press-

Please. Please let me finish.

Lastly, I would like remind both proponents and opponents of the bill that the spiral of violence threatening RhyDin is unwarranted and unnecessary. It is not only detrimental to our society, but serves no purpose for either cause. I ask that everyone please maintain an air of civility and nonviolence when arguing his or her views.

I will now take a few questions.

Reporter: Ms. Vall. There has been speculation that a lot of the studies used in Prop 37 promotion have been fabricated. What do you have to say about this"

Vall: I unfortunately have a statement here that says the figures touted in our first promotional flier were baseless, due to an inconsistency in paperwork on behalf of the University of Westplace. However, the figures in the Proposition Thirty-Seven Text as far as I know are accurate.

Reporter: As far as you know"

Vall: The RhyDin Business Bureau has already confirmed the numbers and sanctioned their publication in the Text, but I will personally contact the local law enforcement and RhyDin Trade Center to confirm myself.

Reporter: Ms. Vall! What can you tell us about the debate you are planning?

Vall: It is still in the planning stages, but I will make this announcement. Anyone willing to make a significant stand, or who wishes to take part in the publicized debate on behalf of the opposition need contact me at Prop 37 Headquarters.

-More clamor ensues-

Vall: Unfortunately that is all we have time for, but if there are questions or concerns, please visit or contact Prop 37 Headquarters and we will do our best to accommodate the general populace. Thank you.

Reporter: Ms. Vall! Wait! Ms. Vall! Just one last question!

Vall: Any more concerns, please direct to headquarters. Thank you.

- Indignant grumbling-

(Excerpt from Tridtsat' Syem')

The Chief of Staff looked down at the terribly still body of a young, dark haired boy who laid in Pediatric Intensive Care. Tubes and wires snaked out from the bandage covered child to end in IVs and monitors. The soft hiss of a respirator lent the only sound to the cubicle.

Another victim of the madness. Doubly so, because his parents refuse to have him treated by Alternative Means. Reconstructive surgery can do only so much for him. Even if he does come out of the coma, the brain damage alone is staggering.

Maranya stripped off the sterile gown, surgical mask, and latex gloves, crumpled them up, and discarded them in the HazMat receptacle. Her jaw was set with determination as she left PICU.

The madness ends, here and now.

The interrogation room at Pickwick Prison was about as pleasant to be in as one of the jail's cells. Sure, there was more space in the room, and an actual chair and table to sit at, and no combination sink/toilet sitting mere feet from the bed. But the windows were just as high up and inaccessible as they were in his room, the asparagus green walls weren't much of an improvement on the white ones in the cells, and there were still eyes monitoring the every move of any prisoner lucky enough to get called in there. And then there were the people who usually sat on the other side of the table...

Jay had been led out of his cell in shackles by two guards, the hoots and hollers of the remaining prisoners drowning out all other noise in the block. He kept his eyes straight ahead, as he usually did when he was being dragged to the duels. Only this time, he knew he wasn't going there. They hadn't given him his usual leather armor and underclothes, but marched him out in his neon orange prison jumper. Plus, it was early in the afternoon. If they wanted to take him to the duels, they would've waited until the evening. Not to mention the fact it was Wednesday, and the duel that night was Fists. He doubted they'd risk their cash cow on a sport without protective wards. No, this was something else.

When they exited the cell block, and Jay realized they weren't taking him to the showers, the dining hall, or the yard, his heart leaped into his throat. Maybe they were letting him go. The harsh smell of antiseptic lingered through the new hallway they'd entered, with shorter ceilings, narrower walls, and dimmer lights. He kept willing them to move forward, towards the front of the building, but about halfway down, his hopes were dashed. They stopped, gestured to a door on the right, opened it, and pushed him inside. He was greeted by green paint, a concrete floor, a heavy wooden table, and a cheap plastic folding chair. Seated at the table already was a man in a two-piece black suit, sunglasses, and black slicked-back hair. His head turned to the door when Jay stepped inside, but there was no other sign of recognition. With his eyes hidden and his mouth a closed horizontal line, it was hard to say the man showed any emotion whatsoever. He waved a hand toward the empty chair.

"Have a seat."

"Who are you?" Jay stood near the door instead, pulling his hands up to his chest.

"I could tell you a name, but it would not be my true one. Does that bother you?" The man rested his elbows on a notepad on the table, hands folded serenely.

"I wanna know why I'm here."

"Sit, and I will tell you." Again, there was a gesture towards the chair. This time, Jay walked slowly towards it and carefully sat down. "It is my understanding that the warden lets you out of your cell periodically to duel?"

"Yeah." Jay leaned back and stretched as best he could with his hands restrained.

"Do you know why they do that?" At the question, Jay started to look at the walls quite intently, then the ceiling. He was looking for a two-way mirror, microphones, video cameras " anything that might be recording or monitoring what he said. This prompted a chuckle from his interrogator. "There is nobody watching. I made sure of it. They may control you, but we control them."

"We?"

"The organization I am an agent of. The name is not important. What is important is the smallness of what they do. Betting on your duels" Trying to get you to reach the highest ranks, so that they can profit from you? Tsk tsk."

Even with the man's reassurance, Jay glanced over his shoulder at the door before speaking again, in a quieter voice than was necessary. "I'm not sure I get what you're getting at. Or how you know that. Or why you had me taken out of my cell to talk to you. You gonna tell me, or are you gonna tell me all the stuff you know about me?"

"Blunt and to the point. I like that." There was no change in the man's expression, save for an adjustment of his sunglasses. He then opened up the notepad, removing some sheets of paper he had folded inside. He unfolded them and placed them in front of Jay. "I shall be similarly brief. How would you like to be free?"

Bright blue eyes widened, then skimmed over the papers he'd been given. It was standard boilerplate contract speak, from what he could tell. He glanced up from them. "Free" How?"

"You sign that contract, and agree to do everything in it. We pay your debt, they put you on 'house arrest' for the next year on the other charges. We train you, provide a residence for you, and when M.E.R.A. passes-" the agent reached over the table to point out where on the document the definition of M.E.R.A. was, before continuing. "-you become a member of M.E.R.C." Another point, to that section of the paper.

Jay looked at the man, frowning slightly. "Why me?"

"Let's see." The notepad flipped open crisply, and the agent read from it in a detached monotone. " 'Subject Capistrano comma Jay. Wanted for failure to pay debts, deliberate evasion of debt payment, and vigilantism. Found to be in possession of several magical weapons. Carrier of lycanthropy virus and potential lycanthrope. Skilled in combat with blunt weapons.' Need I go on?"

The thoroughness of the information the other man possessed made Jay pause and take yet another look around the room. Still, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. "Okay..."

"So you see why we might be just a little bit interested in you."

"Yeah." Jay's eyes returned to the contract again.

"So what do you say' Will you join us?"

((This post is a combination from a post made by Fleet to the ruling council, Council of the Dens at the Lupinossai Den, 5 miles outside of Rhydin City as well as a recent post in the Riverview Clinic where Fleet is a resident as well. I have put both posts in as to state the importance of Fleets involvement regarding this proposition.))

Sunday Afternoon: Hall of Council Fleet stood amongst the elders of the Council of Dens. He noted the 3 empty seats for only a moment. Death happens in the Den, a bit too frequently for his liking but it does happen. He watched the 5 remaining elders pass the piece of paper he took off one of message boards. It was a poster pushing for Proposition 37 and Fleet knew that even if the Den was 5 miles outside of Rhydin, the storm that this action could still reach out and sweep them up.

Issiir looked at Fleet with eyes almost as old as his. She handed him the poster back. "This is grave news indeed Fleetian Wolf. The marking of all magic users as something vile and dangerous will not bode well for any. Violence will increase as well as you well know from our own mage wars over this very issue. What do you suggest' You are very knowledgeable of the outside world."

Fleet put his paws behind him and thought on Issiir's question. "I am still lacking a lot of knowledge on this issue. I know a few people who could give me more information. I am hesitant to offer advice until more is known. I will advise one course of action. As our Den is still in the rebuilding phase and we can not afford anymore damage, we bar all entry to all who are not Lupinossi or those already entrusted by us. This will help to minimize any hate crimes. I will gather what information I can get as soon as possible."

Issiir looked at Fleet for a moment before speaking again. ?"Do you not fear for your own life" You would represent the essence of what the outsiders would hate. Magic at its most potent form. A deity."

Fleet just smiled sadly and shook his head. "My life is no longer mine to govern. I gave my life over to helping and protecting life. If my life is required to save another so be it. I am bringing an ally back though. My beloved mate and wife, Ammy Wolf-Spiritor will be brought back to us with help from Dr. Maranya Valknonan. With Ammy back, the Lupes will take heart and rally behind her."

It was Sliinkaa's turn to look at Fleet for a moment and she shook her furred head in disagreement. "I still fail to see how bringing you dead mate back from the between will help with any of this. I do offer my hopes and wishes to you that maybe you will get what you seek and that it is not for waste. Fleetian, get us this information so we may decide on what to do. Also, from now until it is safe, the Den is now sealed to all outsiders unless we know them."

Fleet bowed and left the hall. When Fleet was gone, much debating and talking went on. What would they do' The last time there was a difference about magic users and plain folk, civil war erupted. All 5 elders were uneasy, but they all agreed. If it was necessary, they would rally the Lupes and do a preemptive strike if the Den was threatened.

Friday Morning: Riverview Clinic Fleet had been walking the halls of the clinic making his rounds. Though he kept his outward appearance professional, inside he was ticking away at what to make of Proposition 37. He was gathering every bit of gossip, rumor, news event, and any beatings or resistance. Everything was recorded in his right arm.

Fleet did this as he had a report to make soon. A report that may or may not put the Lupinossai Den in harms way. He stepped outside for some fresh air as he still had the occasional scent memory of burnt skin. Walking along the side walk, paws in his lab coat pockets, he looked about and noticed a group of people heading his way. They weren't a mob, or hostile, at least not physically. It was a gaggle of reporters and he was the first moving target it seems, that they have seen today.

Fleet didn't back down or turn back to the Clinic. He stopped walking and waited patiently as they approached.

"Sir, are you a doctor of this clinic?" one reporter asked as a mic was shoved his way.

"Yes." is all Fleet said.

"Are you aware that the clinic offers alternative treatments in the form of magic for the patient' How does Proposition 37 hit you and the clinic?" Another asked.

Again another mic shoved toward him. Fleet calmly looked at the reporters and just smiled slowly.

"I am quite aware of the Clinics offer of alternative treatments. I offer them as well. As for the effect of Proposition 37 on the clinic, I can not say as it is not my place. Ask the other doctors and staff. We are all human just like you guys. My own personal opinion on the matter is still in debate." Fleet answered truthfully.

"How can you justify equating yourself as human like us. You look nothing like a human. Are you one of the Lupinossai responsible for damages around the city due to magical firefights?"

"I am a Lupinossai. As to the damages to the city that are being placed on my people, may I remind you that when a person is attacked. It is that persons right to live and to defend their lives. Have you seen how many bullet holes, axe gouges, and arrows litter the walls of the West End district' This clinic has treated a lot of injuries from the West End, most non magical. Any damages done to the city by magic from my people has been paid for." Calm and cool was his voice.

"So you're saying we should look the other way when one of your kind blows half a building down and focus on a few measly holes from a gun" How do you justify using magic in your medical practices doctor?"

Fleet held up a paw to stay the stream of questions. "How you wish to view my statements is up to you, but putting words in my muzzle will do no good. Violence is violence whether magic or mundane. I am simply stating that both sides of this issue have equal potential for damage and irresponsibility. As for using magic while I practice medicine. I always ask first, and I make sure the patient understands what is going to happen before proceeding. Now then, my break is over and I must take my leave."

Fleet turned and walked for the Clinic doors, the press following him. Reaching for the door something hit him in the back of the head. He felt warmth slide down his neck and fur. Putting a paw to his neck he pulled it away seeing blood. He shook his head slowly, and opened the door. Before stepping through, he looked to the press.

"Sorry but your devices will interfere with the medical equipment. I must ask you not come in." and with that he walked back in and headed for the locker room. He had a headache now and he was sure he was going to need a clean lab coat.

This is Marvin J Thompson with the Rhy'din Evening News. I'm standing outside the Red Dragon Inn which was the scene of a deadly riot last night. The riot has been linked to the escalating violence that has been gripping Rhy'din since the proposal of Propsition 37.

The camera pans to the watch as they are carting away a handful of bodies and medics on hand to help the wounded.

This begs the question *why*" What was the purpose of rallying the people outside a place known to harbor magical beings including the Splendiferous Kairee and the head cat, Panther.

The scene switches to images from the riot at the inn where the cameras focus on one man talking and then running as the fight starts.

These images were obtained last night from an anonymous source. The man shown here inciting this riot is Rhydin Star Reporter Darien Fenner. As you can see from these few images we have obtained, he is seen here inciting the crowd to storm the Inn, then running as that spark sets off what is best described as an inferno of hate.

The scene shifts back to the reporter.

Mr. Fenner is best known for his expos" on the being known as Kos and bringing to light the hostile intentions of a race that had been portrayed as friendly. He is also known for his piece on the Obstetrics department at Riverview Clinic. In light of his professional resum", the question becomes *Why*"

Why would a good man, a credit to journalism, throw his career away to usher in some of the worse violence Rhy'din has seen since the Zombie Invasion.

There was a grim look on the reporters face.

This is Marvin J Thompson with the Rhydin Evening News.

(Crossposted with The Riot at the Red Dragon Inn - The First in a set of pieces based on last nights riot. ::cackles evilly:: Enjoy!)

Since the riot last night and early this morning a few more flyers had been popping up along the bulletin boards in RhyDin City.

After the occurrences last night at the Inn. One must ask themselves, should it really have gone this far" How long have the people here lived around magic and magical creatures only to suddenly be sparked into an uprising, turned violent, by a single individual no less" Some of you may be following in ignorance, others may have their reasons. But the real enemy here isn't magic or non-magical individuals, no, our real enemy is a mutual one. The man who has sparked this madness and for what? A sick joke" His own gains" Revenge" We are being used in a game of pawns my friends, by one man no less, a man of the name Darien Fenner. As Marvin has asked in his report....'Why"'. Please, no more senseless bloodshed from either side in the name of this proposition and the man behind it, this has gone to far already.

There was no identifications left as to who wrote it, but there may be a few out there that would recognize the handwriting if they had seen it as Munes.

People of Rhydin, It seems my esteemed colleague wants you to believe that The Riot at the Red Dragon Inn was intended to be a peaceful protest. She states that the accusation are false, that the magic users started this.

A Video clip rolls showing Darien Fenner on the steps of the Red Dragon Inn with a blowhorn.

"Did ya know, ladies and gents, that this inn is also notorious for housin' magic criminals?" He asked loudly, hop-stepping up a few of the steps to be a foot or two above the mob.

At Darien's question, gasps of shock and astonishment combine with cries calling for the heads of the high and mighty.

The Aussie conveniently ignores the one hassling him and continues to address the crowd, "Ladies and Gents, Boys and Girls, I come 'eah representin' Diedra Vall and the Prop 37 campaign committee. Unfortunately, Ms. Vall couldn't be 'eah tonight, but I been given free rein to speak on 'er behalf.

"Someone got a way to record this madness?"

The mood was concerned, to begin with. At the word "criminals," the first hints of ugliness creep in.

They would have you believe that he was not intentionally inflaming the crowd to violence knowing that it would only take a spark to set off an inferno. Video does not lie.

The video pans to the two patrons, female, obviously mercenaries, standing in front of the door flanked by Guido, the bouncer.

Yes, there were armed patrons. But, what my esteemed colleague doesn't tell you was there there were couples inside the inn enjoying a quiet drink. There were children inside the inn with adults they knew. There was a sporting event happening in the basement as is scheduled every week. For an inn that houses so-called Magical Criminals, seems like there were a lot of family-friendly activities occurring.

A video pans in again and stops... A stocky butcher shouts something incoherent and waves what looks very like a cleaver.

Oh so the crowd was peaceful. At this moment the patrons have not drawn any weapons. So who's the aggressors"

The video pans to the woman, though armed, who is addressing Mr. Fenner.

She turned back to Darien, "Yo, Dingbat. I ain't a magic user....You are harassing me and my companion ALSO not a magic user!"

"Freedom of speech, luv. This's public property, and we got just as much a right to be 'eah as anyone else." He retorted smartly to the woman with a dull sneer.

"Your rights end where mine begin. What right do you to be harassing the very people you claim to be protecting?"

Very telling statement in that....There were two people addressing Mr. Fenner that were not magic-user, and thus, not subject to the law should it pass...

By now the video of this travesty has been circulated to the population as a whole.

The video then changes to Teas and Tomes in the morning...

But what they failed to tell you is that there has been more rioting. More supporters of Proposition 37 threatening people. This time I witnessed it personally. I was assaulted by this crowd and there were no attacks by the magic users....Bobby, roll tape.

(Continued * here *)

Idiots. People, when left to their own devices, couldn't even get the simplest things together. Mob mentalities being what they are, he felt slightly upset with his show of faith that this would be taken care of in a simple and expedient manner. Now, he was going to have to actually make more than a token public appearance for the Prop 37 supporters and try to put out the fires caused by these riots, violence, and other shenanegans.

Really now. Using violence to try and push across legislation always resulted in an equal and opposite reaction. Now everybody was going to be up in arms, distrustful of the other side, and this whole mess was going to stalemate unless something was done about it.

Well, if you wanted something done right, do it yourself.

All over RhyDin, the following letter bearing the Ravensheart Academy seal is posted near any Prop 37 propaganda.

Citizens of RhyDin,

I have watched this argument for far too long without offering some sort of response and plan to rectify this here.

Magick is a source of power. Plain and simple. However, it is not the only source of power. Technology, psionics, weapons, charisma, friends, etc etc etc....are also sources of power. Do we regulate them' Most that are regulated only slightly. I do not see how heavily regulating magick will solve these other problems. If magick is shackled, then another power source will fill that void. It is an endless cycle.

RhyDin is a place of gods. With The Nexus here, beings with infinite power are the norm. How do you regulate them' If criminals cannot be punished for crimes, then what is the point of making the laws that make them criminal" Super powered beings will always come through and all that will be punished will be the weaker ones as they will be unable to defend themselves properly.

On the topic of compulsory education. It may seem a bit odd coming from a man who runs the only public school RhyDin has, but I feel that compulsory education for adults is a bit off. Children are a separate issue entirely. Adults need to make their choices and the choices need to be present.

If anyone has any further points to discuss with me, feel free to come to Ravensheart Academy and I will gladly discuss anything.

A letter was forwarded to the attention of Darien Fenner care of the Rhydin Post.

Dear sir;

I have been watching the events unfold and I have a few questions that you might be able to answer. I am on the fence about this law due to these questions.

First: I understand that this proposed law is to help those of us in this city feel secure. But if that is true, wouldn't it be a false sense of security' It is my understanding that the only magic-users that will register are the ones that are not already causing problems, the responsible ones that already aid the city.

Next: With the above thought in mind, how does this law serve as a deterrent' Again, keep in mind that the law abiding will be the ones registering. How will this law honestly stop those that wish to be a menace to this city"

Next: In the wording, magic-user is used as a broad based category. Shouldn't this be supernatural beings given the reports I have been hearing" Not all of the beings you called into question actively use magic, but they have supernatural origins.

Next: What about those of us with no magic whatsoever" The midwives, the herbalists....We are the ones that stand to be accused of practicing magic and run the risk of being persecuted under this law. What protections will there be for us against false accusations"

Honestly, with the way the law is written, I see no true security and the potential for a great deal of abuse. I am afraid to say yes to this for fear of false accusations when I have no magic at all.

Humbly;

Mairead Herbalist and all around Plain Jane Human

((With the kind permission of Brishen's player - a collaboration))

"Go mbeire an diabhal leis th", cac ar oineach ..." It didn't sound as though Niamh was in a particularly good mood as she approached the little cottage she shared with Brishen. Cursing not quite under her breath, she was limping a little, and covered in bits and pieces of rotted vegetables. There was even a slight split over her eyebrow, which was bleeding gently as she entered, hoping like hell Brishen wasn't home to see her in this state.

Speak of...or rather, think of the devil. Brishen was lounging on the couch. Hearing her grumbling, though unable to make out the words, he slipped up to his feet and ambled toward the door, throwing it open to blink at her appearance. "Erm...Niamh, what the hell happened t'ya?" he asked as he stepped out to meet her.

She glared flatly up at him, shrugging out of her stained shoes and coat right there on the doorstep. "Ye dinnae want to know," she assured him in a dark voice, wiping some sort of tomato like scum off her neck and flicking it away.

"Well now I really do," he protested, stepping aside to allow her entrance into the cottage. "Did ya crash into a vegetable stall or somethin'?"

"If only 'twas sae pleasant," she muttered, stepping past him, careful not to get any of the litter that covered her on him at all as she moved towards the bathroom. "That thrice-damned Prop 37 has got the whole city in an uproar. All I did was stand up fer one poor soul who was bein' chased through the market, and the mob turned on me instead!"

Brows lowered, furrowing to accompany the frown that tugged on his lips. "Turned on ya" People in the city did this to ya?" he asked while walking after her. "Whoever wrote up that Proposition 37's a damned idiot."

"Aye, well, 'tis just as well they dinnae know I can throw 'em across the street if'n I choose to," she grumbled, peeling her shirt off with a disgusted sound. "They've been threatenin' tae burn down some o'the magic shops, ye know."

He sighed, leaning against the door frame of the bathroom. "Damned idiots, the lot of them too then. What happened t'Rhy'Din' bein' a safe'n free haven for all without any sort of discrimination?"

"All it takes is one silly piece o'legislation that isnae even in place, an' everyone's terrified o'one another." Her jeans were hurled into the corner with her soiled shirt, and Niamh set to repairing the damage done by the mob she'd encountered. "S'that poster what?s done it. Frightenin' people, sayin' their kiddies are in danger."

"There ain't no official government in Rhy'Din anyhow. There's nae anyone t'enforce any legislation, no way it c'n pass'n be in place. Y'can't have legislation without a government. The governor does nae have any power over what the people do'n don't do in the city. Everyone knows that, so what?s the point?"

"Doesnae matter." Niamh sighed and turned to him, cleaner at the very least. "Ordinary folk're always goin' tae resent that magic folk have somethin' they dinnae. Magic folk're always goin' tae go 'round with the feeling they're somehow better'n ordinary folk; s'not right, s'just the way it goes. S'the way it's always been. Means all that resentment's comin' out now. Just because o'some idiot's bright idea."

"The resentment's gonna get someone killed," he grumbled bitterly. "Who the hell wrote this thing anyhow?"

She shook her head, moving over to wrap her arms around his waist with a low sigh. "I dinnae know," she murmured. "But it's gettin' bad, Brish. Folk are gettin' scared, and when they're afeared, bad things happen."

"I know," his arms curled around her in return, a sigh coming from him as well. "Thinkin' the idiot might've just wanted t'stir up some trouble."

"Ye truly thinkin' that' S'all just some sick joke tae set ua all at each other's throats?" She looked up at him in concern. That was almost worse than the thought of someone wanting them all registered.

"I wouldn't put it past some folk here. There's a lotta people in the city who'd love t'see everyone goin' after one another."

"Aye, well, seems like I'll be comin' out o'me own closet sooner than I thought," she sighed again, gently disengaging herself from him to step past, this time heading for the bedroom. "There's only so much I'll take 'fore I choose tae protect meself."

Turning, Brishen followed after her, frowning once again at the notion of her in harm's way. "Be careful, whatever ya do."

"I'll nae hurt anyone," she assured him, pulling a fresh shirt on over her head. "Nae even if they intend harm tae me. T'would only make things worse if'n I did, love."

"That's nae what I mean," he replied, taking a lean once again in the doorway. "Be careful for yerself."

"Isnae me I'm worried for," she said, looking over at him. "I've some control, I know what I can and cannae do tae protect meself. But ye ....ye have nae control. Ye could kill someone, or harm them at best, an' then what?ll happen" Nay, love, ye're the one I fear for."

"Don'cha fear for me," he smiled reassuringly. "M'magic won' do anythin' unless there's nothin' I c'n do m'self. And I'm plenty capable."

"Ye're tae cocky by far, Brishen Garridan," she warned warily. "An' that silver tongue o'yours willnae protect ye 'gainst a mob baying for blood."

"No, but a nice gun might do the trick. An' I'm nae above buyin' one if I have tae," he nodded firmly.

"Sae ye'll shoot 'em, an' do the same harm as ye may with yer magic? Very noble o'ye." She wasn't impressed with his decision, evidently.

"No. I don' aim t'shoot anyone. Intimidation'll work fine," he nodded once more. "S'ides, show 'em magic ain't the only thing that c'n stop hurt a person, remind them all o'that."

She sat down on the edge of the bed, unhappy with even the thought of him needing such a weapon. "How's it all done bad sae fast, Brish' Shouldnae be like this."

"'Cause people're stupid. Someone writes up somethin' in legislature form, and immediately people are gonna be for or against it. No one stops t'think about whether or not it's all a load o'bull in the first place," he shrugged, walking over to drop down next to her.

"Aye." She shook her head wearily, leaning against his side. Everything about this Proposition 37 stank to high heaven, and its rot was spreading fast. It wouldn't be safe to walk the streets soon, not without the protection of magic that would make people hate and fear them.

BREAKING NEWS! Diedra Vall, renowned Proposition 37 supporter and Faustin Estates executive was found dead in her home this morning. According to friends and family, she was due to conduct a press conference at ten a.m. today announcing the outline of the Mage and Enchanter Registration Coalition (M.E.R.C.) at Georgian Convention Hall. Authorities, while refusing to disclose any further details on the case, have officially ruled it as homicide as of nine o"clock. Whether or not it was magic-related, the commissioner had this to say:

"While I cannot comment on the circumstances of Ms. Vall's unfortunate demise, I can say that she has had lots of enemies, both public and not so public. We have opened the case, and are currently investigating several leads."

What leads exactly, the commissioner would not say. But a fellow Watch member expressed his own suspicions:

"It doesn't take a genius to recognize an assassination. The real question is who did it. And while I can't say formally say this, I have heard they are looking into evidence based on a letter they received from a renowned magic-user in the community."

A large portion of Prop 37 HQ correspondence is confirmed to have been seized by the authorities.

Meanwhile, Prop 37 proponents and staff of campaign headquarters are in an uproar.

"This instance, while tragic, only further proves what kinds of dangers we are dealing with," Valeria Jimenez, Campaign Secretary and close friend, said. "We will not waver in our course of action. Our campaign is stronger than ever. But this is murder, and the one who did it needs to be brought to justice.?

Anyone with any information is urged to contact the Watch immediately. ]

The night after the letter bearing the Guardian's symbol, another letter from Exodii Enterprises arrives.

We of Exodii Enterprises do not support Proposition 37. Are ya nuts"! You can't even make gun control work, what makes you think you can control magic" You can't. So the proposition is good for nothing except spreading a false sense of security to those who have no clue while hindering others who would otherwise help this city control the baddies. We got better things to do then to be tied up in red tape like this. Half our business in RhyDin is in selling the magic. Next thing you'll be trying to ban it. Uh...no, we won't support it.

Signed,

The President of Exodii Enterprises

Tony was not a violent man.

He was a police officer, sure. He had paid his dues as a law-enforcing member of the Watch, and had performed a few busts he wasn't too proud of. But these days, his new rank gave him an excuse not to use his gun. Tony was a detective. He was a scientist. His job was to take a handful of clues given to him and uncover the meaning behind them to discover a greater score or purpose. Lately though, he was seeing his coworkers bringing in more and more body bags. More late nights. More violence, all thanks to this damn Proposition 37 business.

Tony hated violence.

It made him sick putting handcuffs on a Seraphim Knight. Neo Eternity's group and the Watch had a long history of cooperation of peacekeeping in the city, and Detective Sobczak knew damn well that the Keeper would let himself burn before he lifted a finger in harm against RhyDin citizens. But bureaucrats were bureaucrats, and his hands were bound with red tape that went up to his eyeballs. Neo had a see-through alibi that gave him an opportunity to be near the scene of the murder. The precinct had confiscated several letters of correspondence between the Keeper and Diedra Vall, expressing his deliberate interest in meeting with her in person. And, much as Tony disagreed, the commissioner pushed motive on the detective.

Motive, his ass. God, Tony hated politics.

It had been days since the detective had slept, and the disheveled state of his attire didn't bother to disguise it much. Each new person he flashed Neo's picture to in Northeast RhyDin was put off by the coffee stain on his shirt, the greasiness of his hair, and the fact that he smelled like he walked out of a kitchen stove.

"Did you see this man around here three nights ago?" Tony asked the owner of a brewery gruffly. He cleared his throat and stuck another filterless cigarette between his lips as the man was scrutinizing the picture he'd handed over. The brewer stared at the photo, then at Tony, then at the photo again and turned up his lip in disgust.

"No, and I'm damn glad I haven't," he snarled.

Tony rolled his eyes as he took the photograph back. It didn't take a genius to recognize a liar, and that was the fourth one he'd encountered that day.

"You're sure?" he pressed irritatedly.

"Oh yeah. I'm sure," the brewer replied, and slammed the door in the detective's face. Tony grumbled a few curses under his breath and puffed on his cigarette in exasperation as he made his way down the street. Not long after his unfortunate dismissal from the brewer's doorstep, he rapped his knuckles on a tomato-colored door to a cottage on the edge of town. An aged, rotund woman answered the door, smiling warily to the detective as he flashed his badge. "RhyDin Watch, ma"am. Were you at home three nights ago?"

The woman blinked, and nodded. At her response, Tony held up the picture of Keeper Eternity once more. "Did you see this man?" A spark of recognition flashed in the woman's eyes, followed by an appalled withdrawal. Diedra Vall had been murdered, and here was a detective asking about the whereabouts of a magic-user the night of the crime" She could put two and two together.

"No, I didn't, and he deserves to be arrested!" she rebutted in annoyance. Her plump elbow clipped the edge of the door in an attempt to shut it. Tony curled his lip and wedged his foot in the door.

"Now you listen to me, you ignorant fool. He only deserves to be in prison if he committed a crime. And if you don't tell me what you know, that's obstruction of justice. You want to go to jail?"

The woman's resolve faltered.

"Now. Did you see this man here or NOT?" Tony growled. If it were any colder, steam might have been coming out of his ears.

His interviewee turned up a chubby chin at him and set her lips. "No," she replied arrogantly, and hip-checked a rather large hip at the door.

The detective grit his teeth and made an infuriated face at the citizen.

"You're a damn liar," he grumbled before his forehead met cedar, and he was by himself again. He rubbed at the angry red welt left there as he stepped off the porch, hazels reaching up to the thick twilight sky. As he studied the vast expanse of it, his heart sank. How could he possibly prove that Neo had been seen if the entire town seemed against him' Turning over this disheartening idea in his head, Tony's thoughts were interrupted by a soft voice to his immediate left.

"I've seen that man," whispered a tiny waif of a girl, hugging the beam of a neighbor's house. Tony's gaze snapped to her, and he cleared the yard in two strides to hold up the picture.

"This man' Where" When?"

The child could have been no more than four, but her eyes held sad wisdom far beyond her years. She tugged uncomfortably at a handful of dirty blonde hair, and pointed north.

"Three nights ago. Over there. At the tower," she replied demurely.

Tony studied her. "Can you take me there??

(Cross-posted from: Exodus 10.)

Revelations 19:19: I saw the beast, and the kings of the earth, and their armies, gathered together to make war against him who sat on the horse, and against his army.

Small and pink and fragile. Many were this way. They were all small and fragile, but not all were pink. Some were brown as the rocks of their homeland. Some were dark as the night sky. Others were a creamy yellow or beige. They came in many sizes and colors, but all were small and all were fragile.

They made noises, these creatures. These ones had one noise for themselves. "Hu ....man," this one grumbled to himself. The others in his entourage twitched and shuddered at the sound of the word, the way his voice garbled the sound like speaking while chewing on rocks.

Much of the noise they made, this one did not understand. They gabbled on like chittering monkeys without trees to hide in. Instead they walked long rock roads, boulevards and streets, words he did not know. He and his entourage watched them from the eaves and overhangs, safe and high, crouched belly low atop the mounds of their dwellings.

His entourage was anxious and jittery. From time to time he was forced to turn his head and gnash his teeth at one impatient member of the group or another. They whimpred and cowered beneath his ire, and then he turned his head back, lifted his ears high, and continued to listen.

They wanted to feed. As did he. This one was no more immune to the hunger than any one of them, but he was smarter and wiser and had more willpower to control the want, the need. This one was more scarred from battles long forgot. Those in his entourage were young and foolish, having never encountered such plump little beasts before.

This one's ears twitched as he listened. Some of the noises he understood, but not all. They chattered too swiftly at each other to catch them all, but one word rang truer than any other. "Ma ....gic," he repeated brokenly.

Beady red eyes watched from safe distances. Tall ears absorbed the noises and learned some words. This one was crafty, cunning, and capable of calculating things to a conclusion. Many of the beasts held up thin and flimsy squares and shook them as they chattered. Some wore shiny round medals on their chests with brightly painted marks. "Prop 37," they chanted, "Prop 37!"

"Magic seru raniotsigert," chanted others. Groups of them huddled together, waving their squares of thin cut wood painted in bright colors. Some handed out smaller squares of tree stuff with other symbols painted upon them. From the roof of another dwelling farther down, one of them tossed a bundle of such objects into the wind and let them scatter into the sky.

This one's tail whipped out and speared one out of the wind. He brought it close to his nose and sniffed it at great length. There was no food on this paper, but those who threw it around and handed it out chanted the word he knew. How were they connected" What were they saying" These creatures had no order, no drive but to toss around useless bits of tree stuff.

His entourage whimpered and whined anxiously. They did not smell food here either. Why was their leader so enthralled with this place" There were other places nearby that smelled of food. Why were they not eating"

Turning away from the ledge, the piece of tree stuff crumbled into his long sharp hand, this one snapped and snarled at his entourage. "Stay! Wait," he commanded them. Shuffling low to the tar painted roof, this one followed the scent of cloying perfume that turned down an adjacent alley.

When he dropped upon the female, she screamed in a fright. Her noise pressed his ears flat against his head, but soon she was gagging and she gurgled on her own voice. Holding her by the throat, he thrust the crumpled piece of tree stuff at her face and asked her, in words she understood, but words that sounded garbled and broken:

"What ....is ....prrraw puh""

The woman's face turned whiter than it had been from the start. Her eyes lolled back into her head. She made a few more gagging and gurgling noises. Then she went limp beneath his claws.

September 10th, around 3 AM.

Blue glowing angel wings carried Neo Eternity toward a run-down cylindrical stone tower several miles north of town. As he neared the tower, sadness gripped him increasingly tighter. He slowly descended, landing gently before the aged wooden door. He never did figure out why she chose here of all places to die....He gulped back a knot in his throat and opened the door, with a loud creak. If anyone was there, that would make them aware of his presence. Fortunately, no one else seemed to be there. He stepped in, leaving prints in dust that had been long left undisturbed. He looked around a bit. The bottom floor of the tower never did have anything there in it. It had been deserted long, long ago. The numerous windows, which were little more than holes in the wall, allowed the moonlight to flood in and illuminate the small room.

He turned toward a spiral staircase along the wall, and ascended the stairs to the top floor of the tower, which was just as devoid as the floor below. Except for one extremely significant detail. A large purple crystal, about eight feet tall, and four feet wide. And trapped inside it was a young woman. She looked like she couldn't be any older than 20. She had shoulder-length brown hair, and light skin. She wore a modest set of clothing. A white t-shirt, a pair of blue jeans, and a pair of black sneakers. Her hands were clasped in front of her, her head tilted down and her eyes closed, as if praying. There were still trails of tears extending down her cheeks from her eyes, frozen in place. There were just as many windows in this room as in the below room, with the addition of a few in the cone-shaped ceiling, allowing the moonlight to illuminate the crystal, and the woman inside, completely.

There had been numerous attempts to free her. To bring her back. But the crystal was indestructible, at least so much that it could not be destroyed without destroying the woman inside too. And it was heavily protected by magic that could not be dispelled, powered by the entirety of her life force, that she gave up in that one fateful instant. So even if the crystal was broken....she would still be dead.

Neo couldn't stop himself from shedding a tear once he saw her. He gulped down a knot in his throat and approached the crystal slowly, walking around to the front of it. A hand reached up to touch it, ocean blues staring deeply at the girl inside. Tears started to roll down his cheeks. "I'm so sorry....for not visiting you..." It felt like a long time had passed there, with his hand on the crystal. He eventually removed it, his tears dried, and took a few steps back. He sat down on the dusty floor. "To be honest....I might not have come here tonight, if a friend of mine hadn't tried to commit murder. After I stopped him, some conversation with him and some other friends reminded me that I need to visit you. So, again....I'm sorry. I'll visit you more often. I promise."

A pause. "I've been really lonely. That girl I found, that I told you about, the last time I was here, Elina....She vanished a few years ago. And I'm the Keeper of Water, now. I live in the tower by myself. And a very dear friend of mine....My best friend....almost made the same mistake you did. She thought she had become a threat to our safety, and she almost killed herself. This time....I was able to stop her. It hurt, though. It hurt that she didn't believe in us, that we could help her. That I could help her. Kind of like....after you died." His eyes closed. "I was so angry at you for a while. A pathetic mix of anger, sadness, loneliness....so many other things." A sigh. "Obviously, I've been thinking about you....and Elina....a lot. I think now I understand a little bit better how you felt."

"The city's gotten really ugly lately. This proposed bill, Propositon 37, is trying to regulate magic, and magic users. The proposition itself is all sorts of flawed. It's for registering all magic users, in an attempt to regulate magic. But the kind of mages that the city needs protection from are the very same mages who would be untouched by it. I know you hate politics, and I don't care much for it either. But....it's thrown the city into chaos. All of a sudden, so many people have risen up declaring magic and magic users as some sort of monstrosity. Sparking hate crimes....violence....against magic users. Our Seraphim Knights have been so busy trying to protect people, but there are so many we've missed. So many have been killed in riots, random acts of violence....Both mages and non-mages alike. There are so many people, who before this proposition, didn't seem to have a problem, but have gone so berserk. It's almost like a spell in and of itself."

"...Oh, yeah. Seraphim Knights. That's the Edges of Life. But we changed our name. You know how we used the emblem my dad had on his jacket....But I never knew there was actually any meaning to it before. This guy named Sai, who knows Link and Vawn, told me about my father's task force back in Prism City. They were called the Seraphim Knights. So we changed our name for a more complete homage to them." He slowly rose to his feet, brushing the dust off the seat of his pants. "...I think I'd better go on back to the Tower of Water. Jin and his girlfriend, May, are spending the night there." He chuckled a tiny bit. "Jin actually has a steady girlfriend. The times have....really changed." A single tear rolled down. He walked over to the crystal, placing his hand on it one last time. "You were an amazing girl with a wonderful heart. I'm glad to have been your lover, Serenity..." Choked up, the only reason he didn't cry was that his eyes were already dry. "I'll see you again soon."

He started toward the stairs, and almost instantly came to a stop, a very peculiar sight greeting him. There was a little girl at the top of the stairs, who couldn't be any older than four, holding a bouquet of flowers, and a piece of paper. She smiled sweetly up at him. "Hi, mister. You look really sad..." Neo nodded slowly, suddenly finding his tearducts rather capable of delivering once again. He held back, though, and it was plain on his face how hard he was trying. "Mister....are you okay?"

He couldn't hold back for long. Tears escaped from his eyes, though his voice didn't waver. "Flowers....Man, I'm so stupid. Why didn't I think of that' I never was....very good with my feelings." He shook his head and brushed his tears away, smiling sadly, faintly, but sincerely. "It means a lot to me that someone else has come here for her. I really appreciate that. Thank you so much..." He slowly walked past her, descending the stairs and exiting the tower.

The little girl paused for a little bit, watching his back, taking special notice of the blue emblem on the back of his jacket. The shield with the upside-down sword underneath it. She recognized it. She soon walked down the stairs after him, having enough smarts to know not to run down them. She then ran out the door upon reaching the bottom. "Mister! Mister!" But it was too late. By the time she made it outside, the angel had taken flight, his wings leaving a trail of faint blue light in his wake. The little girl sighed faintly and went back in, going back up the steps. She just stood there for a while, looking at the crystal, and the woman inside it. She then walked over and placed the bouquet and the note in front of the crystal, then making her departure.

"Hi, mam. I hope you like dandielyuns. I wonder if yoo can please watch over the peoples of our city. There is a lot of hurt and meanness now and it is making me very sad. Peoples like the magiksers and the other peoples in my home dont know that they is all beautiful! I think yoo know more than anybodee that it isnt what yoo look like or is born with or even change into, but what yoo do and who yoo ares! Please help them. Tell them not to be afraid of being themselfs! Thank yoo!"

((Cross-posted from BCU - The Lonely Rail. Thanks to Tony Sobczak's player, for the little girl, and big thanks to Serenity's player, who has long retired from role-playing, for all the wonderful play.))

September 13, 9:30 AM.

The cell door opened up. The noise caught Neo's attention and he sat up on the bed, looking to see what it was. One of the guards was there. Neo blinked, not sure what was going on.

"You've been exonerated, Mr. Eternity," said the guard. Neo rubbed his eyes. "...What' Already?" The guard nodded. "Detective Sobczak found evidence, and a witness, corroborating your alibi." "Evidence....witness?" He really was confused that he was being released so soon. "A little girl. She said she saw you at the tower you mentioned, north of town." Neo looked down a little bit. The girl who had gone to see Serena was now doing him the favor of getting him out of there. She's done so much for him. He slowly got to his feet, and walked out of the cell, stretching a bit.

"Also," said the guard, "the Detective apologizes." "Well," said Neo, "tell him I said thanks. And....I'll replace that phone book for you guys. Thanks for letting me vent my....frustration." More like vehemence. Neo had punched a hole through one of their phone books in reaction to some bad news he had received during visiting hours. "Okay. Have a good day, sir." "You too."

He stepped out of the Northwest Precinct, taking a deep breath of fresh air. Tony did it. Just as he said he would, and much faster than he expected. He looked around a bit, glad to be out in society again, although society still wasn't all that good right now. Ocean blues fell upon Jin and Kersh, leaning against a nearby building. Jin shot him a grin. Neo smiled and walked over to them.

Diedra Vall was murdered, and once Icer was exonerated too, they'd be back at square one. The Masked Man was still at large, and the Seraphim Knights were no closer to stopping him. And the violence was still ongoing. The population, for whatever reason, still hated magic and those who used it. They had lots of work to do.

Laying coiled still in the middle of her cell, wings were starting to cramp up, but there wasn't enough room to stretch herself out. Ice blue eyes half open, peered out at the guards standing watch.

A bowl of water, and a bowl of.., something, it looked like mashed up meat lay untouched in the corner, there was no way she would eat any of that stuff.

The water though.., not quite cold as she was used to, it did help her throat a little, but the collar still clasped kept her from using any magic, including her icy breath.

A sigh to herself, and gaze drifted back past the prison bars, to the door, someone would come. Sometime..

Clink, clink, ears perked and the dragon woke to an open cell door, ice blue eyes peering toward the guards standing there.

"Your free tae go", another blink, reaching up to claw the collar still clasped around her neck, free"

"Yes, free, seems a man came and spoke up on your behalf" the guard still eying the dragon, perhaps a bit on the cautious side.

"Claims to have seen you on the night in question, laying flowers on graves."

I told you that.., "had to be sure", the guard shook his head but grinned pleasant enough to the dragon as she passed him by, heading for the door.

"The detective sends his apologies as well, but there is one thing..."

What is that", she turned to face the guard who had stood for so long in front of her cell. "You have tae keep the collar on."

Blink, she reached up, scratching the thing once more, grumbling as she made it back to the door.

"She'll be back".., the guardsman murmured with a grin to his comrad, "and we'll be waiting."

Prop 37 Debate Tentative. New Leader Takes the Reins.

Much discord in the face of political accusations and the death of an heralded forerunner in the Proposition 37 debate left it indeterminate whether or not the legislation campaign would proceed for the 2009 election. After a solid week of chaos at campaign headquarters, it has now been made clear that Asst. Attorney Gen. Laurens Aasen has decided to take control of the Pro-Prop 37 movement.

As of this morning, Aasen had the following press release to make:

"Ladies and gentlemen, both magic and non-magic folk. I want to take a moment to talk to you about this dominant fear in RhyDin since the campaign's start. Friends: violence begets fear, and fear is not the state of civilized people. It is unwarranted. It is unnecessary. And most importantly, it is detrimental to this cause.

Let me remind the public that the purpose of Proposition 37 is to instill security and regulation in a society that is already entirely too unregulated and insecure. The recurrent incidents committed both by and against magic-users are antagonizing, and provoke naught but more violence. That violence traps the city in a state of terror and panic, and perpetuates an infinite loop of vehement misunderstandings— leading to more tragedy on the part of its citizens, and more work for the resident police.

I am obliged to inform you that the latest arrests of the accused Icer Shimmerscale and Neo Eternity in the murder of Diedra Vall were groundless and entirely lacking in evidence. Both have been officially exonerated, and I offer my sincere, formal apologies on behalf of both the justice department, and Prop 37 HQ.

I would like to inform the community that the latest case of Aleta v. RhyDin is, as far as we know, not directly related to Proposition 37. Miss Aleta is currently being charged with four counts of aggravated assault, one count of reckless endangerment, and one count of breaking and entering. To address the rumors circulating about the trial's documented evidence: I am duty-bound to inform the public that Alfred Wilson, the security guard on duty on the night of the crime, is currently being indicted under charges of fabrication of evidence.

That aside, the Proposition 37 vote is still slated for October, though headquarters remains undecided as to whether we will proceed with a live debate.

For now, I would like to strenuously encourage the people of RhyDin to maintain civility, good conduct, and above all, tolerance of differing opinions. For while 'discussion is the exchange of knowledge, argument is the exchange of ignorance." Thank you.?

Of the latest suspects on Vall's murder case, authorities claim to be following several current leads. Meanwhile, Aleta v. RhyDin is currently being reexamined by the local justice department.

Anyone with any information on the murder of Diedra Vall is urged to contact the Watch immediately.

Paradise stumbled slightly as she crossed the threshold to the Red Dragon Inn. With one swipe of her hand, she wiped the trickle of blood from her freshly-split lip to her chin. One eye was puffed up nicely, red. Definitely going to be a shiner in the morning.

Her usually clean appearance was marred with streaks of dirt and street grime. her hair was mussed, and the look on her face was one of warning: stay away. Not even the sight of Horam could get that hard look out of her eye.

Paradise was pissed.

She hadn't gone looking for a fight, but it had been several days, nearly a week, since she had ventured out of the Fur'za. With all the turmoil surrounding Proposition 37, she just didn't want to be involved anymore. She had already experienced enough prejudice and hatred against Dee-Bees - or rather, non-human creatures, or humans with extraordinary abilities - living in and around the Coalition States to last her a lifetime.

What she really wanted was some fresh air. Unfortunately, certain members of a certain group decided it was their right as "normal" people to harass her and keep her from her destination.

Two rather rough-looking men, both wearing greasy cover-alls, leaned against a wall, watching the few people who were out pass by. Most, apparently, looked either too dangerous or too normal to be of interest. Seeing her, however, they both began to catcall:

"Hey, Frank,ain't that de 'lectrical braod from the pussy cat's crew," one said, using a sausage-like forefinger to mine for snot in a many-times broken nose.

"Sure looks like it to me, Todd," the other said, pushing himself away from the wall and moving in Paradise's direction.

"Hey! Hey you, sparkly bitch! I got a battery you can charge right here!" He said, grabbing at his crotch.

She ignored his lewd comment, intent on merely passing him by and leaving the area quickly. She had left her guns on the ship, but as an electrokinetic, she never went anywhere truly unarmed.

The one called Frank was not going to be ignored, so he reached out and grabbed hold of her arm In one fluid motion, Paradise turned, grabbed his wrist, and twisted his arm up behind his back. It made an audible popping nose as she deliberately put upward pressure on it.

The man screamed in a high-pitched way that made his friend laugh. The other man, Todd, casually flicked a booger from his finger, and pulled a dirty sock from the pocket of his coverall. It made a distinctive clinking metal-on-metal sound as he started towards Paradise and her prisoner.

Sensing that this man would not have mercy even if she broke Frank's arm, she instead lifted her foot, and shoved him forward into Todd - the man with the metal-filled sock he was wrapping around his fist. Paradise turned to run, but Frank was quick to recover long enough to grab her flaring duster and yank her to the ground.

Paradise did not have a chance to recover her feet before the two men were upon her. Instinctively, she began to call the electrical charge that fed her abilities, but seeing her eyes begin to change, one of the men rubbed a handful of dirty mud from the street into her eyes.

She screamed, but instead of panicking in her blindness, she began to throw controlled punches at the men who held her down. She didn't care who or what she hit, but she connected more often than not.

After a few moments of traded blows, the men decided she wasn't worth the fight after all. One of them spat on her before the two, leaning on each other for support, hobbled off.

She wiped the muck from her eyes, and the spittle from her face, gingerly touching her bleeding lip and wincing. She did glance around, only to see various shutters and doors slam closed.

So, this was how it was going to be. She collected herself from the sidewalk and looked around again.

"Cowards." She whispered under her breath before she limped away.

One she found herself in the Inn, she decided to head down to one of the various locker rooms. She ignored the shocked looks and angered faces. In the locker room, she found a quiet corner to sit, and put her head in her hands.

A sob escaped her lips, followed quickly by more, as she let go and raged tearfully.

(Duplicate due to Board glitch, please delete)

With his knees folded underneath his body, Locke sat at the low table carved entirely out of magical ice with his old neighbors, Lora and Oren Icefeather. The remnants of a meal the three had prepared together sat on the table, enchanted so that the contents would not slide off the normally slippery surface: bowls that had previously held cucumber soup, dinner plates with scraps of ceviche, and salad plates with only drips of mayonnaise left from the waldorf salad that had been served. The three friends remained at the table even after dinner was done, drinking peppermint liqueur from exquisitely carved ice glasses and talking.

"Did you hear the governor's speech today?" Lora asked, brushing a lock of light blue hair out of her darker blue face with a soft chiming sound.

"I did," Locke replied.

"What did you think?" The ice elf felt two sets of eyes fall on him, waiting expectantly for his answer.

"I think it was an aces speech, and I hope it is in successful in alleviating some of the violence in the city as of late."

"It better," Oren rumbled, as the iridescent wings on his back seemed to violently shudder and shift towards hues of red and orange. Lora's did the same in response, though there was some purple mixed in as well.

"I believe it will," Locke said.

"Still," She drew out the word and smiled brightly at Locke. "I think you should say something as well."

"Me?" He almost spat out some of his drink in surprise.

"Yes, you, silly." She shook her head from side to side, ringing the tiny bells braided into her hair.

"Where?"

"On...what?s that thing called, honey?" Lora turned her sweet smile on Oren.

"Tele-vision, I think."

"Yes," she looked back to Locke, as the giddy smile she seemed to always wear was replaced by a flatter look. "You should."

"Why me?"

She leaned over to nudge Locke with a hand, forcing a playful laugh. "Because you're famous! The GangSTAR writes about you when you go out. You are a well-established duelist, and one of the top ones in Fists, yes" Plus you've got a fashion show under your belt, and another on the way. And your girlfriend is quite famous too, yes. Perhaps you can convince her to talk as well?"

There was a long, awkward pause, before he finally spoke, nervously running a hand over his spiked-up hair. "I...can't."

"Why not?" Oren quickly chimed in.

"I do not think I am as famous as you think I am, mates. There are plenty of other blokes with more flash than me, who are more talented with magic than me, who are more important and better public speakers than me."

"Nonsense," Lora said. "You'd do fine. I just know that if you spoke as well, it would help."

"Having a clearly magical person talk on these things would help?"

"Locke..." Oren started to speak, then stopped to collect his thoughts. "We're scared. What'll happen to Elemental Arms if this passes" People need this." He banged his fist on the table, clattering the dishes. "We need this. You needed this. People will need this. If Prop 37 passes, do you think they'll let a building full of people who refuse to sign stand?" He shook his head with a barely audible chime.

"What he said." Lora leaned closer to Oren and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

"I...I'm not in a space right now where I can really do that," Locke replied. "I have a lot on my plate right now."

"And it's more important than this?" Lora scowled.

"There is yet time for Proposition 37. If I don't handle my business soon..." The snow elf trailed off, uncharacteristically vague. He watched as their wings became nearly opaque with darker shades of the rainbow.

"I see," Oren said tersely.

"Locke...I hope you change your mind." Her smile didn't go away, but it twisted into something melancholy. The conversation eventually drifted towards lighter topics, but it wasn't enough to dissipate the pall cast over the evening by their earlier discussion. When he finally left the Icefeathers' apartment, he took a long, circuitous path home. He was delaying the inevitable, he realized, but at least it gave him a few more minutes to himself, where he didn't have to work to hide the skeletons in his closet from the person he was closest to. He brooded in silence, and hoped that the controversy over Proposition 37 would last a little bit longer, so he could continue to use it to mask his inner turmoil.

"Keep people in line." Joey put a hand on her chin, stroking it a moment while thinking. "Bribes?" Looking to him with a raised eyebrow, she took another puff and then stubbed out the butt. Blowing the smoke out away from them, she looked back to him. "It's the only thing that comes to mind. Bribes and empty promises."

"Very good guess." He would nod to that slowly. Honesty thick in his words, in that officer's tone that could raise people from the dirt even in a metal rain. To be complimented by a beast was worth ten thousand weaker voices, even in this land. "However, there is something even easier." Hand was tilting the bottle to the glass, filling it up once again. As the other reached out without much thought. Picking up a piece of string from the random clutter of the bar, and offering it over to her. To let it fall into her palm. "Learn to control, with that..." A nod down to the string in her grasp. "And all else is meaningless. To over power with a word. To put a person to their knee, with a look. To break will, with a breath." A sad shake of his head, even an arrogant snort of a beast's pride. "Understand that. And you soon began to understand what you are willing to die for. Willing to live for." He would reward her intelligence with some of his actual self. That calm deep tone rolling out like some monk, high in the mountains. But the best monks were always the old soldiers, it's how it worked out.

"Dill." She looked between the string and him and leaned in to whisper, her voice was suddenly rather mousey and she looked rather embarrassed. " I don't have a clue what you are talking about." Joey leaned back away from him, sucking in her bottom lip while wrinkling her nose. "Is that all like code for 'Be a hard ass'" Like in high school where you just act like you're awesome and then everyone else catches on and thinks your awesome?"

There was another long laugh there. He gets that a lot, actually. But someone heard it, didn't they. No, no, probably not. "You already know it, understand it. All of the people here do. If you understand it before you finally pass, or not....that is all of our choice." A shrug of broad shoulders. Really, in his mind it was neither here nor there. He was the shield, he was not the orator. A lean on his elbow, lounging out there expertly. "I have faith that you all will find it, eventually. And I think that's all, I need." A roll of the tumbler, lightly. "Like I said darlin', I'm a negotiator. It's what I do." What he negotiates however, is entirely up to question and conspiracy. Another tilt of his drink, even as he lounged there. Don't worry, eventually he'll remember what he had at home. And then, he would slip out as quietly as he arrived. And the bar could breath a sigh of relief. And he meant the actual bar, he was leaning on at the moment of course.

Wings and tail dragging, Icer absently reached up to itch the silver around her throat again, slipping past Dill and company.

"I think you confuse the baddies stupid and when they are busy going 'Huh?""' you whack them. Mmhmm. I like my explanation best." She smiled to him, still a little more than confused, but hey it was conversation and Dillon was nice. "So what do you like to do for fun" Do you allow yourself time for fun and I mean other than hanging around here."

There was such a thing as battle field philosophy. Stay long enough with your heart beating a hundred miles per hour, and your mind breaking down every pin point of information around for your own survival....and you began to understand things a bit differently. His people actually built a religion, around such. But that was a different story, for a different time. "I like my work." That almost seemed like a defense, but he grinned it off. He really did, but he couldn't say he did kind of thing. Another refill of his glass, tilting the gentleman jack to it. "I actually do not have for much free time, considering. I like to drink, smoke; cigs and green. Play video games. As for other interests, I really got too many to mention. I find if I let my brain slow down, it takes a while to speed up again. So I try to keep it going pretty decently along." A nod there, happy to explain another bit of himself honestly. "My turn. So, what do you think of this magic, no magic thing?" Of course, his turn to ask a question. But remember, he was more #$%^&* then man, usually.

Hearthwards now Icer went, staring into the flames as they danced, head resting upon her forelegs.

It was with a delibrate, motivated stride that Xenia neared the inn from behind. Gloved fingers pushed open the back door, allowing enough expanse of space for her petite figure to slide past. Tonight brought out an ornate, topaz gown of silk. Another dinner party at someone else's expense. Black lace licked at the sides of her neck and kissed her fingertips. Russet and coffee curls were bound up in a bun, decorative obsidian dangling from her ears and around her neck. Fit to be a queen, or so she had been flattered with. Honey gaze stoked the room from left to right...and lastly, fell upon the only beast of a man who could make the corners of lush lips curve into such a soft, glowing smile. She lingered for a moment, waiting for onyx to meet with topaz before she would approach. Gloved digits absently fooled with the fabric, soothing out wrinkles that were not there.

"You do really seem to enjoy it, that's awesome, most people hate what they do." Joey's hand went to adjust the scarf around her neck again, making sure it was still covering the good awful marks beneath. "I understand what you mean though, I like to stay busy as well, especially keep my mind busy. As for this magic thing, I guess, I'm for the magicians. Humans really are the minority here, so who are we to push others out' I'm all for mixing things up and variety. "

"Do what you love for work, and it is never work darlin'." Another slow nod, as he had presence to do when he agreed with someone. Attention was thickly on the woman across the bar, but not that things could slip by him. A grin cut over to Xenia, when she came in from the back. Motioning her with a curl of his fingers. But it was all in the look that made him different from a tyrant, or a master. Why lead from the back, whip, string, or whatever weapon you had....When you could lead from the front with honor and decency, and push people to fight what they love. With a growl. It was always a growl. But only warmth there, for the Russian. Breaking any winter they might have, and flicking his chin to an open stool across from him. But dark eyes did flick back to his conversational partner. "Mmmm, that's interesting. Even when normal, non-magical beings such as ourselves, are the actual majority, here." Offering that out to her, lightly. "So, you feel comfortable then, here?" Perhaps a bit of a sociological experiment here. But this was a good thing. Dillon would only ask such of someone he considered actually decent, in mind and soul.

Joey smiled to the lady Dillon was inviting over and then nodded to him. " Of course I feel comfortable, this is my home. I wouldn't like it here if it wasn't so diverse. The magicians have much to offer Rhydin, they have knowledge and practices that can save lives, enrich lives, entertain. I wouldn't want that to go away. Every race has a purpose here in Rhydin, just like the flea and the ant. It's like and eco system. The magicians help keep things balanced."

She didn't normally 'take orders',if you will, but tonight she was malleable. A low bow of her head in acquiescence to the beckoning finger before footsteps fell quietly in the direction of the bar. Her own maw coiled into a polite smile for Dillon's conversation partner. Her gaze was low, but kept averting to glance up at the bear of a man. It didn't take long before she came upon the bar. One glance down the empty expanse of battered wood, before she tucked the silk and skirts beneath her. Perching herself on the indicated stool across from Dillon, she folded her hand in her lap pertly. Heels hooked onto uneven rungs of the stool for support. Honey pools flicked back upward, intrigued by Joey's response to Dillon's question. Chestnut brow quirked meaningfully, but she remained silent.

Was it really an order when both parties wanted it' Body easing away from the lean a step or two, drawing elbow off gouged wood. Giving a grin full on to Xenia as she stepped up, hand coming out to pluck up the poor woman's hand, so he could put lips to the knuckles in a teasing sort of hello. Grin never fading of course, but letting hand go after a squeeze of his own gloved fingers Looking back to Joey, just as she spoke. Nodding along, showing his understanding. Rumbling lowly. "Interesting. So you consider magic to be an integral part of society here. But surely, you can not consider it fully that....I mean, you smell Terran doll. You kind of know how well, not having magic works out." He would just offer her a side point, to get more information from her. Dillon was quite curious, it seemed. Listening intently, even if he did grin over to Xenia. "We're discussing magic." Just to be a pain, to her.

Maybe she could.., pushing herself to all fours, the dragon slid quietly toward the group, serpentine neck held low in a non threatening way.

No, but she was sure he had a thing for ordering people around anyway. Her hands never even made it to her lap, one stolen to betroth a kiss upon it. Porcelain flushed a rose color at the intimate act, both surprised and pleased....But he often left her feeling that way. Now she folded her hands into her lap, absently rubbing the knuckles blessed with his kiss. She looked at him a moment longer before turning her head to look at Joey as well. The corners of her mouth twitched dangerously as she caught his look out of her peripheral. "I presumed as much. Seems to be hot topic around here."

Icer was holding herself back though, gaze lowering to study her talons at the talk of magic. "Yes and I have to say I like this world a lot better than the one I grew up in. Sure there is violence here, but there is also more love, more knowledge, I don't know if I am explaining this right. But, yes, I think I do believe that magic is integral to society here. Besides, I haven't seen too much hate or violence from the magicians themselves. There are those, like necromancers who leave cause for concern, but then again good always needs evil to balance it out. The bad gives us something to be thankful for when things go right, it keeps us peons in check and helps us remember the bigger picture."

A bounce of eyebrows to Xenia, when she cut her comment his way. But eyes rested back on Joey as he spoke. The same, slow nod there of understanding. "So you believe it is also, good to remind people how small they truly are." Another couple of nods. "So, you can not understand that it might come around that people do not wish, to have power in the hands of few?" Offering this to her. "But then again, I think you are saying something like....That magicians are not unlike say, a police force....or a military. Is this correct?" He was asking another question. Sate the poor man's curiosity. But then dark eyes flicked over to the Draco that rested nearby, quietly there. Dillon being a child of the city, fully understood the dragon. And being how he was, as long as the being wasn't breathing fire/ice/lightning/acid/death magic on him. All was aces. "Miss Icer, what do you think of this" Is magical, integral in this city?" And the negotiator, would just ask her with the easy, though deep tone, of a curious man.

Ice blue eyes blinked, and she lifted her head to the one speaking. "This land is born of magic, as are we.." Another glance to her talons.

"It's good to be reminded that I'm a human. Just as it's good for others to be reminded of what they all are, to learn to appreciate what we do have. As for the power in the hands of a few, well, it depends on what kind of power you speak of. The Knights, The Warriors, The Vampires, The Ninjas, The Mothers who balance their herds of children, hey all have power on some level. The magicians are just a small pocket of power in this world, there is so much more beyond what we could ever imagine. Beyond what we could control. Why would we want to limit our interactions" Our learning" I think there is much more to gain from the magicians than there is to loose." Joey shrugged, blowing out a long breath.

"I agree vith her analysis." Nodding her head in agreement with Joey. It was somewhat along the lines of what she wanted to get at last night. Then turning her gaze back to Dillon, she again quirks a brow. He always made a good point for the opposition. Sighs and squints at him, scrutinizing him briefly. "I do not think of magic users as a force...even they are divided and scattered," she comments, looking back to Joey again. More nodding ensued; she liked they way this girl thought. Then topaz flickered to the dragon. She knew of Icer through Maranya, and she bowed her head politely, curious as to what her take was on the situation considering she was on the other side.

A nod given to Xenia, then a twitch of an ear a moment. "We are peaceful usually, unless kin are harmed or captured."

"So two intelligent women believe it is an integral part. Just, like say technology....understood by some, and harnessed more for the greater good then evil. And a dragon, who believes it is needed....But being a dragon, is a bit biased." Though he grinned over to Icer, while saying this. Showing his playfulness, at least in the general way. Leaning back off the bar as he refills his tumbler once again. "Then I believe the question might be....What is the difference between you all, and those that are against it." A pause, then a look over towards Icer. "Usually. I have seen the Red flights before Miss Icer. The Black flights. They are not usually, so peaceful." Don't mistake his words for disrespect, it was just intelligence and respect there. He was as curious to her opinions, as anyone else's.

A hail of blue glitter shimmered and there was Ren sitting besides her sister in a lean. She was nomming happily on a piece of chicken, a plate of wings right next to her. Her eyes were on those wings while she murmured to Icer," How much trouble did you cause today?" It was Icer's usual, so she just pressed the question.

Coated with glitter now, well at least it matched her scales. hello...sister..

"People are afraid of what they do not understand. I guess that is the best conclusion I can draw. It's easier to kill than to ask questions. Easier to be prejudice than to try to understand. Some are just a product of their environment, some suffer from arrogance and think they are better than others, they hate the idea that there is something so beyond them, so beyond anything they can understand that they'd rather end it than admit that they are not the only heroes Rhydin needs. Fear. Fear of the unknown." She shook her head. " And of course technology is important, no matter what form it comes in. Even things like guns. Guns don't kill people, people kill people. "

"Nae all are vengeful, I've kin of many colors and most keep to themselves," Icer commented, grinning then to Ren.

"Hello Icer." She said as she tapped her foot. She looked up as she was grined at and she mumbled," I'm not changing. You can't make me." Like her sister, Ren had forgotten how to change into her other form with her restoration.

Nodding then at hearing Joey, Icer murmured, "We know this well."

Wrinkles her nose at the blue glitter hail, before looking back to Dillon. "Magic can be abused, just like technology, it can be vasted, just like knowledge," quietly spoken. Then turning her attention back to Joey, another grin threatens, twitching at the corners of her maw. "Vell spoken.." Appreciative look for the Italian-American woman. She was beginning to feel inarticulate this eve.

A side glance to Ren, chuckling. "Did I say I was gonna make you change?"

She nodded to Xenia, agreeing with her ideas on abuse of magic and technology. "Mmm Hmm. Mmm Hmm." She nodded her head in thanks to the compliment. "You were giving me that look." She squinted at the dragoness besides her while her tripoint ears twitched. She pushed dark hair from her face and plucked up another wing.

"What look" Oh yes, this is my sister, Ren." Nodding.

"But technology, can be learned by all. Base intelligence is needed of course, but it is still able to be achieved. The same hand that draws a gun, could draw it to shoot down someone who needs, shooting down." He would offer this back out, tossing back his drink. Rumbling lightly in pleasure, as he eyed the glass for a moment. "What I do not understand....is why no one is saying, us, when speaking about those against it. Separating yourselves, by opinions is the first step to violence. The only thing war needs to come about, is lack of communication." Still eyeing his glass. "No one is defending both groups, from themselves like proper law, or decent souls should do. More interested in striking back....Like usual." A blink. Then he was back, grinning lightly over to Ren with a nod. "Sup darlin'?"

She nodded to the three others within the Inn then looked back to her sister," The look that says I haven't caused enough trouble yet today and need to cause some more. And that you've picked me to be your innocent victim."

"Innocent my foot..," grinning a bit more perhaps.

She nodded to Dill T Jones with a smirk on her lips," Enjoying the constant mood swings and hunger that comes with pregnancy." She shrugs," All around good." Nods to him lightly before she smirks again," What about you stud?" Her husband would smack her for becoming the flirt even though he was the player. Well in a way.

She nods to Ren politely in turn. "Vell met. I am Xenia." Soft curling of her lips in greeting for the other dragoness. Then turning back to Dillon, she comments, "Not all magic is inherent. Some can be learned through facilitated means and/or years of study." Just to make a point. "I think vhat you are getting into goes back to vhat she vas saying, about people being afraid of vhat not understanding," nodding her head to Joey to indicate that she was the 'she' that she was talking about.

"I am being whatever it is, that does not piss off a pregnant woman?" He would offer that back to her, immediately. With a playful wince. Hoping it would work, of course.

"Who is to say magic could not be learned" Not all witches and warlocks are born with the ability to cast spells, there are books, dark forces, light forces, elements which corrupt or influence magic. All of those things, I think are available to any person who is willing and wanting to learn. Perhaps some are born as they are, others choose to be what they are." Joey nodded to Xenia, her statements agreeing with the ones she was making.

"No stress suga. No worries no stress." Going with the flow before she looked at her sister," I'm more innocent than you." Blunt, but right and Icer knew it.

"Are not.." "Anyway, I think this whole prop thing is just an attempt to scare the weak magicians off, or to piss them off enough so that they WILL attack, and therefore a war can be born and it can be justified that it was done in the name of something righteous. People are selfish but also cowardly when it comes to fighting for what they truly believe in."

"We of course didn't have much of a choice, magic courses through our very blood since hatching."

Tilts her head at Joey. "That is almost exactly vhat Dillon said last night." Such an absurd ideal....and apparently it was on the back burner of everyone's minds.

"I'm not going to argue with you on this subject." She mumbled to her sister before she nodded in agreement," It's not something we can simply not doing. It's a habit....I mean, honestly....I would have used the door if I wasn't so used to having the will to do whatever I could with magic."

At least he wasn't gonna piss off the pregnant woman. Sorry, Dillon might be at his heart an absolute horror of a man. But he was not foolish. A grin, before he looked from Ren and Icer back to the two women. "I do." Over to Joey simply. "My people are magically null, for racial reasons. I can not learn magic, even use wands or such. I can not be healed, by holy energy. So I have no absolute chance to do such." Simply giving an example there, even as he motioned over to Ren and Icer. "Though I am quite sensible when it comes to such. As in they can not do some things, that I am able to do. But not everyone understands this." A motion of his hand, nodding over to Xenia once as she spoke up. Yeah, he always did kind of believe it. "Though a bit different, doll face." A grin her way, curling his lips. "I think the true question might be, should technology come in and save the day, again?" Just being a smart ass. Of course he would be arrogant, where he stood. He was, a man. Supposed to be arrogant. But it didn't mean he couldn't see all their positions, clear as a bell.

Just wait, her sister would get those blue sparkles back before the night was through.

She could have always coated her sister in glue and put lime green sparkles all over her. After all she was that cruel at times.

"Well, no offense, but I don't understand where that explanation would be logical. It would be like me saying that I want you dead because you are a foot taller than me, stronger than I'll ever be and an obvious mental and physical training that I could never attain. Someone should not be killed because of what they are, even if they chose to become it. If someone is evil, then yes, they should face the same laws as everyone else, but a generalized sterilization of magicians is completely illogical." Joey shrugged. "I don't think any saving is needing to be done at this point, what would technology prove" People need to smoke a little green stuff and chill the hell out. You know" Lets bring the peace and love era back to Rhydin." She held up a peace sign and blew a kiss.

"It might, someday," thoughtful purse of her lips. Then Xenia squints at him again. "Are you magically null because of your 'capability'?" Referring to what she witnessed outside the inn that one day.

"There are some things I am nae able to do well, writing for example, I have to use my tail, and the last time I did," Icer grumbles, "I was sent to prison, for something I didn't do."

She was back to eating her wings. A few bits of chicken devoured before she murmured to Icer's comment," And now there's a woman in jail paying for an honorable crime."

Then her head whips back to Joey. That was definitely along the lines of her argument last night when she and Dillon were debating. "See" She thinks like I do." Well, except for the peace and love...and green stuff.

"She tried breaking me out, I heard." Icer comments to Ren.

Joey smiled to Xenia, she wasn't really a pothead herself, but it seemed as good an idea as any.

"Yep, she did. And now she's being charged with assault." Shakes her head while she leans back. Still nomming off the plate of her never ending chicken wings. She pops open two bags, cotton candy, and pop corn. Both of which Icer should recognize.

"Yes, that is what a lot of people think." Over to Xenia, easily with a nod. Explaining to her, as she asked. As comfortable as ever, even when explaining such things. He nodded to both women, with a purse of lips. "I understand. But unfortunately ladies, nothing ever happens from just hope. Action is always required, to negate action. If the world was moved by hope, I would be thankfully out of a job and could spend the rest of my hopefully, long ass life sitting my ass on a couch and playing video games. It would be an awesome, life." A slow nod there, about as much honesty as you could get from him. Would be pretty #$%^&* cool. "But sadly, it does not." A rumble of an amused sound, filling up his glass before asking. "You ladies, want anything to drink?" Easily and politely asked, even out to Ren and Icer. Though dark eyes flicked back to Xenia. "Maybe? Someday?" A snort there. "Doesn't sound like hardened Russian thinking, there. I tell you what....I have a challenge for you. Give me one single thing, that could help both groups out. One single word, that would be both an action and a perfect ideal. Like Justice, or decency, or honor." A nod over to her. "Do that, and I will show you what happens when one takes hope, and places it in an appropriate action." Another nod there. And the man's word was law, it seemed.

She did recognize those bags, but Ren, plus sugar could be bad. "Nae, I still have water," wriggling her snout and that glitter was returned to her sister.

"I'll take a bottle of Vodka." She said rather calmly. She leaned back in her spot, her tripoints twitched and she started to nom happily at the chicken once more.

"And a lot of unnecessary death and pain comes from jumping the gun. No move should be made until either side begins to take action, then the other forces can swoop in to settle the score. If action is taken prematurely, especially from an outsider, I think that will open up a lot more cans of worms. You'll just have one more side involved and then what two against one and vice versa" All sides are only concerned with saving their own arses and game face in the end. This is why women are not usually in the seats of a warrior chief, president or leader. We think with emotion and logic. Men don't like that. Men like to think with fists and rocks, if you know what I mean." Joey shrugged, hoping it didn't offend him. "I've got my own sort of war logic, I wasn't exactly raised with a white picket fence. " She swiped that bottle he had and took a drink right from it. "And besides, this isn't something that can be solved with one word Dillon, we all know that."

Snorts at the mention of video games, muttering incomprehensibly. Ticks a brow upward at his challenge, topaz studying him severely. "Fly me to moon and ve can discuss this." Saccharine-sweet smile. "Vodka on rocks, poshalysta." Then, reconsidering his challenge. "Nobility." Not a solution or an answer, but a start. It would be noble if both sides could just agree to live with each other. Glancing back to Joey. That sounded rather foreign to her, thinking with emotion. Logic, sure. Shrug of lithe shoulders amicably. "Again, moya misha, she makes fair point."

"We were doing a fairly good job till the proposition came out, many know of my kin and I, and she'll have a water," Sweet smirk to sissy.

"But, if I have to throw a word out there" Faith. Faith is the assured expectation of things hoped for, the evident demonstration of realities though not beheld." Spoken softly, quoting one of her favorite biblical passages. "The world is nothing without faith. Faith is everything."

"Did you hear who they have as the prosecution for May's trial?" Looking to Icer as she pursed her lips.

You know, here he would -normally- ask the pregnant woman there, why she needed a bottle of vodka. That's just who he was. And really, even with how she smelled to him he did give Ren a look. "You....are not serious, right' I mean, I don't know about things..." Giving this was Rhy'Din, #$%^&* could be different then what he was used to. He did rack off a tumbler, and scooped up ice. Xenia got Stoli filling her glass. Looking over to Joey. "You will be amazed at how many things start and stop on a single word. Like war. Or peace. Or love. Or genocide. Murder. Defense....The list goes on." Just to offer his opinion there. Putting the Stoli back in the rack. "Nobility and Faith. Both good words, but is not faith the problem here" The lack there of in fellow citizens" And the too much, to those people might consider their own?" So in his mind, faith could be bent. "Nobility....That is a bit stronger, isn't it. That has enough force to be potent, with enough caution to be careful." A slow nod. "But is nobility another form of arrogance" Or is it something so decent, it is above such?" Asking both. Even as he picked up a bottle of vodka from the rack, and put it to the bartop. With a grin over to Ren. "Protection, of all things." As if this explained why he would even ask, but he was grinning it away and picking up his drink. Was easy to miss what Dill actually said, usually.

"Nae I didn't, but I suppose I should go when it comes up, she's in jail because of me after all." Icer responded.

Oh yeah, that was right. Dill was humaniod yes" Ren looked up at him with her sparking twilight eyes and smiled to him, "I'm an Alien mate. No worries on the liquor..." She smiled to him," It's like water to me. Ask her." Then motioning to Icer before speaking to her sister softly," Vinny....He's been in favor of the proposition too."

Icer stared, blinking. "Uncle Vin?"

Shaking her head, her tail wrapped around the vodka bottle, lifting it out of Ren's reach.

Faith. Who had faith' "Spasibo," she thanks Dillon, coy smile playing across porcelain features. Reserved especially for him. Fingers uncurled from her lap, coiling around the glass and bringing it up to her bosom thoughtfully. "Depends on outlook, I suppose," words coming slowly, thoughtfully, haphazardly. Chestnut brows furrowed together as she drew a pensive sip from her glass.

"Exactly my point Dillon. Faith COULD fix this if people would try having a little and not just selfishly in themselves, but in others. Faith leads to hope, which leads to understanding, love, righteousness, the list goes on and on as to what can sprout from just a grain of faith. Haven't you heard, 'Faith the size of a mustard seed can move mountains.' I don't think those are just silly words meant to give empty hope. Faith is something stronger and bigger than any of us, and again, many do not take pleasure in or agree with what they do not understand. Therefore, a lack of faith." She shrugged, it all seemed so easy in her mind, but Joey didn't know if she was conveying it as such. " I'm not War leader, or whatever they are called, but this all just seems quite silly to me, really."

"Nobility is a form of stupidity. It is just a class to place other's on a special feeling rank before others." Ren shook her head and rolled her eyes for a moment while she grinned. The retired Queen was sitting there quite pleased with her self before she frowned, "Uncle Vin." She nodded before glancing back to Dill," I could tell you stories about why your overreaction is reasonable....But next time you'll know which one to over react about."

"We are simply trying to survive, recently my mate was injured just trying to hunt food for the hatchlings," Icer comments, keeping that bottle out of Ren's reach.

"The defense of life, is never an overreaction." Immediately spoken back over to Ren, though it was done with the utmost respect. This was just something he held a bit strongly, in his mind. But he would give the woman a warm grin, and a nod. "I will remember, though." A chuckle, before he looked back to the two woman. Listening to both carefully. "But I have seen, and read about when two faiths collide. From that, came the Crusades. But from two forms of nobility came Saladin and King Richard, two men that at least....paused such." A slow nod. "I guess that is a question, which is most perfect over all. Which is a higher sort of ideals." A pause, then he dug into a pocket of his coat. Tapping over on the glowing screen of technology. Carefully typing out the one word, then after a moments pause, he offered it over to Xenia. "You deserve to hit the button." Whatever, this meant.

"You run blind vith faith," softly. Murmuring into her glass of vodka thoughtfully.

"I am not speaking of faith in a strictly spiritual sense. Besides everyone knows when it comes to the Crusades faith was really just a cover over for the word greed. I mean faith in each other, pure, untainted faith. The kind that little kids have that Santa will come. Just because Santa isn't real, doesn't mean that their faith is blind. There is the faith, the hope, and thus a result." She blew out a breath. "I'm rambling. I'm sorry."

"Intelligent conversation and opinions, is never rambling." Just like moments before, an immediate thought. This was something he believed as truth, and thus just fell from his lips.

Stares at him from over the rim of her glass. "Excuse me?"

Ren looked to where her sister had been and arched up a brow. She looked back to Dill as she spoke out lightly. She managed to murmur out," Don't ever let my kind drink the water, any water." She nodded and motioned to her ears and eyes," I doubt you'll run into anyone with these traits." She smiled," But for now I must be off. My husband should be off duty soon."

Still, the hand offered out the thin cell phone over to Xenia. Where, yeah, a big red button rested on the screen. A cheating man, he broke his technology and a thought to give her just this. Much, much more would happen because of such a press. But it would, get the ball running, so to speak. "I said, if you figured out the one word that would help all, I would show you what happens when hope, and appropriate action meet. It is only fair, that since you came up with the word that would do only good....You shall be the one to begin such good, in town." But that grin was still there. Was he serious, or just messing with her. A single word to bring good. But still, the phone was held out. Eyes looking back over to Ren, grinning. "But you are, already pregnant. The water wouldn't hurt you, too much more." Just a smart ass, again. "Goodbye darlin'. Nice to meet you."

"I don't get asked to express my opinions or thoughts very often, so thank you, even though I'm not so sure I know how to exactly convey what I'm thinking at times." Joey was used to being treated like meat or a mindless doll, thus her gratefulness towards Dillon, very rarely did she ever get to show that she had a brain and some good thoughts to go with it.

"Actually it would. Water is our liquor, not vodka. It's the opposite for my race." She nods to him before she winked to him," Good night sir, been nice meeting you as well." Alorians could drink as much liquor you place before them as if it was water. Give them a glass of water and watch it hold the same effect as moonshine has on humans.

"I do not know if I should trust you," dubiously spoken as she scrutinized Dillon. Nods to the departing Ren. "Dobroy vecher, Ren. Vell met."

"You would deny turning a good thought, into action?" Easily asked over to her. Still waggling the phone. "Alright..." And he sloooowly began to pull it away. Looking over to Joey, giving a grin. "Not a problem darlin'. It is only fitting....I believe everyone's intelligence offers something to learn."

She winked again at Dill before she vanished in a hail of blue glitter.

"Oi! Not so fast!" Quickly lowering one hand from the glass and pressing the button. Then she waited for the building to get blown up, ducking down under the bar in a fluid motion.

Joey nodded to him and now that the Inn was mostly clear at least of those she felt would judge her, she removed the silk scarf from around her neck, tired of it pressing on the multiple puncture wounds looking like a gory necklace. Wading up the scarf, she stuck it into her bag and the slipped away for a moment to grab a bottle of peach nectar from Des' cooler.

And...nothing happened. No explosions. No weird beams of light. No eldritch monsters popping up. Not even a puff of smoke. Very anti-climatic. And despite all that, he would level a simple look at her. A proud one, from the look of the grin's curl. "To this end, I give my best to you darlin'. I promise you this." A slow nod there. She did give him a good word, the least he could do.

And so far away, but not far enough. Something flickered to life. A billion decisions after the moment that lead up to action. And a thought, truly came to action as almost seven pounds of metal suddenly dropped to the ground. But rose fluidity. Operation Nobility, had begun.

Peeks over the edge of the bar, scowling and narrowing her eyes at Dillon. Then slowly rises, soft upward curling of the corners of her mouth. "Ve vill see then, von't ve?" Blows Dillon a kiss before resuming her prior perch, laced fingertips pursuing her glass of iced vodka for a sip.

Coming back to stand at the bar, she opened her bottle and took a long drink, finally letting out a wince at the nagging pain in her neck, though not being overly dramatic with it. "What are you up to Dillon?" Her eyebrow flickered upward.

"We shall see. I am quite curious as to what happens." A firm nod there. He definitely was. Perhaps, in his deep hope, he might give something eternal there. Something beyond all of them. A constant engine of decency. "Time will tell." To both his though, and to Xenia. Raising his glass to her blown kiss, with a grin. Looking back over to Joey, eyebrow raising. "Hmmm' Oh, just seeing if nobility is enough to do more good, then harm. I think she might be right....I couldn't figure out the word. But really, shouldn't be looking for perfection in describing what people need. I should oflooked for something that brought more good, then ill." "Agh." She pursed her lips, trying to see what else was laying beneath the surface of Dillon. Taking another drink, she licked her lips, still a little perplexed.

Brow ticks upward from behind her glass. "Mm. You are too vague sometimes."

"Mmmm, I apologize. Really if I explained all, it would be more hurt for both of you sometimes. You have to understand, most every one of my actions always is in helping of others." A shrug of broad shoulders there. "And I've been hit in the head a lot, so I probably make no sense anyhow." A grin to both ladies.

"Dropped on head as child?" offering with a raise of her brows and a devious coil of her maw.

Joey nodded in agreement with Xenia and then put the cap back on her juice. "Well guys, I think I need to get home, get some rest before tomorrow, I have a feeling I'm in way deeper with something than I thought and I'll need my rest to deal with it." She placed a hand on her neck, indicating what she spoke of. "Oi! Sometimes I am not so smart." She shook her head and put her purse strap on her shoulder.

Soft chuckle for Joey as she turned to look at her. "Dobroy vecher, sleep vell." Soft curl of lips. "Nice talking vith you. Vedy deep." Nod of her head.

He laughed lightly, as he offered Joey a wave. "Thanks Joey, and night doll. Rest well." A chuckle. Very deep. He thought this way normally for every breath he took. A snort there, somewhat arrogant. "You have no idea how much..." Over to Xenia, with a deep curl of his lips there. Joey Damarco: "Good night you both, and thank you. Indeed, very deep." Laughing, she headed for the door.

Watches Joey move for the door before turning back to Dillon with a raised brow. "Mm, interesnaya."

"Is it?" he asked her simply, with a rumble of a chuckle. "I do this every day of my life. Turn single words into actions, watch as they do more good then ill, hopefully." A slow nod there, tilting his glass to his lips again. "It is a good life."

"Only every day?" Playful twist of lips, musing. "Here ve are, alone again. Does that constitute?" [ "Anything less is not worth of my skill." A sharply arrogant grin over to her, leaning on the bar with both elbows. Coming down to look her somewhat eye to eye. Growl rolling out right at her. "Mmm, yes, here we are. Alone again. And what is a good life, if not having a good looking, intelligent, lovely souled woman to be alone, with?"

"I believe that." Softly in turn, honey gazing into dark pools. Purrs in response. "Mm, only need alcohol." Perky smile for him. "Tell me. Vhat do you believe in?"

Another slow chuckle her way as glass came down to the bartop. Rumbling at the purr, and even easing forward even more, to put his lips to her own. Slowly, but for a lingering time. Feel that rumble now, eh' Once he got a taste of her, he seemed a bit more content. Something he wanted to do, for a while it seemed. "Mmmm. Myself. Everyone else, too really." A nod, as he leaned back. "No gods. I am an atheist." Yeah, an atheist in a town filled with Gods.

She adored his rumble, purring softly into the soft press of his lips. Even sucking his lower lip between her own; a gentle suckle, just a taste, before she released it. Perhaps she was too distracting for him. One day she may derail him. Honey irises peeked beneath semi-lidded lashes. Lopsided smile for the beast. "I learn something new about you each passing day," musing offhand.

"As I do about you." A chuckle there, offering that to her as he ran teeth over his lower lip. A good taste, no doubt. She might be able to derail him, with such a thing. Another slow growl of pleasure, before he moved on. Or at least, the pleasure in his mind was under control well enough for him to think fully. "It is not that I do not like the idea of Gods and goddesses or what have you. I just believe having respect for them, is enough. I really treat them as a whole, just like any other life. But I will never, bend my knee to anything. Even a God."

"I vould not expect you to." She only prostrates on Easter. The glass of vodka was raised to her lips for a deep draw. Pensive look on her face before she polished off the glass, depositing on the bar. Honey flickered to obsidian pools, and she moved to rise to her feet. "Come," she beckoned with a syrupy voice and a crook of her finger. "Let us prowl."

And his time, to be called. Though is it an order, if both parties want it.....And across the bar he moved fluidly, just about the time she was out of that stool he was standing beside her. Hands in pockets, looking as casual as ever, for the burst of speed. Offering an elbow to her, casually dispite the quiet of the room. "Mmm, most definately darlin'. Let us."

Arm curled around his, fingertips trailing down his arm to meet and interlace with his own in the folds of his pocket. "I haff place I'd like to show you." Enigmatic raising of her brows as the head toward the door.

( Prelude to Nobility comes to Rhy'Din? _

Flying in from above she lands in the market. She shifts to her half form and walks into the middle school. Venus Mournefire walks to one of the voting booths and sighs. She had been ordered to vote yes. So she votes yes and walks out side with her tail dragging the ground in a not so good way.

She would have burnt it down if not for the children inside. She sighs and sits down outside looking around to see who might just be voting yes.

Election day. He had been waiting for this day, and like countless others, he took part of the day off to go to the polling place.

He knew what he believed, that a registration on magic users or supernaturals was a stupid thing to do and he intended to make sure that his thoughts were known to the idiots that thought this was a good idea.

Arm and arm with his wife, he walked down the street, stopping every so often to talk to people he knew, or to stop at vendor's wagons. It was a curious fact that occasions like this brought out the street vendors, almost as if they had a captive audience. He almost stopped and bought a new quiver, but decided to hold off until later. After all, the vote was more important.

As he was entering the polling place, he saw the Shadowmage exiting and couldn't help but to smile. I'll bet he gave them a piece of his mind. he thought as he waited his turn. After marking the ballot "No," he slipped it into the box and then made his way outside to wait on Nat.

He leaned back against the wall of the building and lifted his face to the sun, allowing it to warm him. His enjoyment was cut short as he opened his eyes and looked around. Somewhere, somebody was in pain, or was sad, or both, and he couldn't figure out quiet where.

Fear not, my friend, all will turn out well. He silently projected to the world. Evil can not survive for long, because it turns on itself and attacks itself in the end.

Thorne made his way to the polling area, to do his business in simple and direct fashion, just as he liked to conduct most of his business.

He cast his vote and wandered away, with a small hope that this would be the end of this annoyance.

It just figured.

He couldn't believe this prop actually made it to the polls.

The roar of the vintage Charger announced his arrival at the polls just before he got out and saw the lines coming from the polling location.

"Crap....this is going to take all day."

He tapped his chin in thought. This prop wasn't even worth the parchment it was written on. Every friend or family he had possessed some form of gift or another that this law would royally screw with and that just couldn't happen.

He stepped to the back of the line and tapped the young lady in front of him on the left shoulder. When she turned to her left, he stepped around her to her right, repeating this to each person next in line until he had cajoled his way to the front, leaving behind a line of confused and irritated people.

He smiled at them all, holding up one finger. "Sorry, just real quick ,dire emergency and all" He took the ballot from the attendant and made his vote an extra bold, extra large *NO*. and slipped the ballot into the collection box.

This thing better fail, here and now or there would be hell to pay. Not that he would abide by this law, even if it passed, but Aja persuaded him to stay calm and level-headed and just go with the vote for now, so.......he did as she asked, of course.

He slid behind the wheel of the car again and kicked the engine to life and sped from the polling center to await the news.

Page one of the RhyDin Post had the following article:

After two months of intense campaigning and forty-eight hours of restless ballot counting, the results for the Proposition 37 vote are in.

A majority for the negative is confirmed. This election will not see the passage of the Mage and Enchanter Registration Act.

Proponents at the Proposition 37 Headquarters are convinced the fight is not over.

"We will be back next year, and the year after that if necessary," Valeria Jimenez, Campaign Secretary, said. "We will not rest until our children are safe from this supernatural threat!"

An hour after the preliminary results were published, supporters were seen picketing outside Prop 37 HQ.

"The vote was rigged. Those magic fiends it. We demand a recount, and an investigation into whether the ballots were tampered with!" an angry constituent said.

Asst. Attorney Gen. Laurens Aasen declined an interview, but had this much to say on the results of the election:

"The people of RhyDin have spoken. Not much else we can do about that."

In other news, the murder of Diedra Vall is still being investigated. Authorities are said to have a new lead and are following it accordingly. Anyone with any information is encouraged to contact the Watch immediately.

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