Disclaimer: Indy Best Girl
I am vehemently avoiding progressing into the story, since everybody except for Portland dies! That means more fillers, Whoopiee!
Reviews:
The One: And probably a thousand chapters away since I'm never going to get to writing it. M'bad.
John: One wiki article search later Oh crap, It was the Benson class. Oops, mental typo. Frick. Thanks for pointing that out!
Astoria's POV:
I took a sip of coffee as I watched the waves rise and fall up and down the beach. I let my hair catch the soothing breeze of the New Guinea tropics, bathing myself in the amiable sunlight. The mild scent of coconuts and mangos juxtaposed against the bitter aroma emitting from the froth of my cup.
The birds are tweeting, the flowers are blooming, Portland is preaching her gospel, as expected from this ocean paradise.
.
.
.
I opened one of my eyes and saw Portland handing out semi-nude portraits of Indy.
.
.
I took another sip of coffee. I can hear the waves swirl around in the lagoon, and the soft thud of ripe cocoa beans landing on the ground, first together, then one at a time, manufacturing the syncopated beat of the forest. I drew back and drowsed into the orchestra of the equator, with the calming sounds of "INDY IS SO KAAAAWAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIII!" bringing my soul to peace.
.
.
.
I turned to see Portland across the street, marketing off her sister.
.
.
I closed my eyes and took a much larger gulp of coffee. So this is what youth tastes like. A gust of gale breezed past my cheek, echoing ripples across the brown microcosm held in my hands. The fragrance of impatiens was hushed along with the north wind, a brief glimmer of the inland jungles. The sweet chirping of a songbird was drowned out by the high-pitched tweeting of a siren, and the cries of a certain heavy cruiser…
"ASTORIA, PLEASE SAVE ME!"
.
.
.
I placed my head on the railing of the veranda, and cried.
"Do you know why you are here today?" Canberra crossed her arms.
"I have a general gist." My voice reverberated around the iron precinct walls. Portland and I were currently inside an interrogation room, lit up with by single white florescent blub, swaying side by side above us.
"Portland here is under charges of Unlicensed vending, exposure of Obscene content, and Disturbing the peace." Canberra placed her elbows on the wooden desk. "This would normally be excused by a strict warning; however, Portland has committed a crime before and not considered a first time felon. Do you know what this means?"
"I would like to contest these charges." Portland raised her hand.
Canberra took a deep breath.
.
.
.
"Everything you say can and will be used against you in court." Canberra reminded her as she leaned back into the chair.
"Portland, I'm not sure this is a good idea…" I muttered to her.
"Don't worry, I've got it all under control." She winked, putting her thumbs up.
.
Should I stop her?
I have a bad feeling about this.
.
"I would like to file these products as religious text." Portland raised her pointer finger up.
Eh, too late now.
Might as well enjoy the ride.
"Are you filing for religious immunity?" Canberra adjusted her glasses.
"The Free exercise clause guarantees a person the right to practice religion and propagate it without government interference." Portland responded.
"While that is true, we are allowed to limit the practice of faith when a substantial and compelling state interest exists. We believe that this practice of handing out obscene content is threatening the welfare of the public." Canberra responded.
"These religious texts are immune to the FCC regulations as it provides a serious artistic value." Portland countered. "Indecent content is no base for confiscation." (1)
"I'm sorry, what?" I looked at both of them. "Are neither of you going to question if Indy is a religion?"
"All that constitutes a religion is a firm belief." They both responded in sync. "No man will be judged by the perceived truthfulness of said religion."
"United States Vs Ballard." Portland added. (2)
.
.
.
"You know, I'm going to go and get a drink." I stood up. "You guys have fun."
Could Portland be smarter than me? Am I the dumb one?
That's not true, right?
"A cold one please." I sighed as I took a stool.
"Coming up." The bartender walked up and froze in front of me.
"You've got a probl-" I looked up and saw my sister Minneapolis in a uniform.
.
.
.
.
.
"I'll leave if you want." I offered.
"That is your choice." Minneapolis turned around, taking a glass. "I'm not going to refuse you service."
.
.
.
.
.
"Look, I'm sorry." I motioned.
"4 gems." Minneapolis handed me the cup and the bill, then walked away.
OoOoOoO
"Allright, 1 and 2 is Astoria, 3 and 4 is Vincennes, 5 and 6 is me." Quincy held up a dice. "It's all fair, right?"
"Go for it." Vincinees responded.
Please don't be one, Please don't be one.
"Two." Quincy pumped her fist.
"Reroll." I motioned.
"Nope." Quincy grabbed the dice. "Lady luck has settled the score."
"Come on, that hit Vincennes' leg." I pointed out. "Let's roll it again."
"No, that didn't." Vincennes shook her head. "We all agreed to follow the fate of the dice."
I ducked my head closer. "You know how hard it is to get along with her. Throw me a bone please."
"Fate has decided." Quincy shrugged.
"We shouldn't let luck decide who we are going to pair up with." I argued. "This is for the remainder of the war."
"Did you not swear to accept the terms?" Vincennes asked.
"One more time." I promised. "I'll accept the next roll."
"That's one time too many." Quincy refused.
"It's Minneapolis." I whispered loudly. "I don't want to be with her."
Quincy shut her mouth.
"You see, you can't even argue on that." I pointed at her.
"I didn't know that you thought of me that badly." Minneapolis spoke behind me.
.
.
I turned around to see her hovering over me.
.
.
.
"Uh, Yeah, Astoria." Vincennes jumped ship. "She's our sister. I can't believe you set us up for that."
"That's quite mean of you to try to avoid being assigned with her." Quincy lied. "That's disgraceful."
What?
"Quincy, you set this up!" I snapped at her. "You wanted to avoid being with her, and dragged me into this. It's your fault!"
"Is your memory that bad?" Quincy insulted me. "It was obviously you who wanted to keep your image clean from our sister Minneapolis."
"I think it's just your brain that's bad." I countered. "Clearly it's you who wanted to dissociate with her in the beginning! 40th percentile IQ!"
"40th percentile? At least I'm not a bully like you." Quincy turned on me. (3)
"OH now I'm the bully?" I raised my voice. "Perhaps your stench is fuzzing up your logic! If you had any braincells left!"
"OH?" Quincy walked up to me. "You want to go there?"
OoOoOoOoO
My vision snapped back into place as the last drops of the beer dripped from the mug.
I put 20 down, and left a note to keep the change.
Portland's POV:
"Allright, I need you to sign this paper saying that you firmly believe in the Church of Indy." I opened the door, and saw Astoria microwaving a packet of instant potatoes. "You're not cooking today?"
"Don't feel like it." Astoria handed me a cup of messily chopped fruit. "Have a snack, I'll warm up your dinner next."
"Astoria, did something happen?" I sat down next to her.
"Nothing." Astoria flicked on the TV and began to spoon potatoes into her mouth.
.
.
"Astoria, you can trust me, right?" I put my hand on her thigh.
"I suppose." Astoria cruised through the channels, switching every few seconds.
"Then would you mind telling me what it's about?" I asked.
"Absolutely." Astoria took off the cap of the hot sauce and poured the bottle over her dinner.
"Astoria, are you sure?" I put my arm around her.
"Eh, I don't think I should tell you." Astoria timidly licked the concoction she created in the plastic bowl, and set down the potatoes on the table.
"Is it something bad?" I asked. "Maybe it's about your fa-"
"I'm going to sleep." Astoria interrupted me. "Have a good night."
.
.
"Oh, Have a good night." I waved back.
.
Something's not right with Astoria.
Footnotes:
(1): The FCC wasn't invented and indecent content wasn't much of a problem back in 1940's America. But clear, Portland is ahead of her time.
(2): US v Ballard was actually decided in 1944, but it's close enough... (Btw, if any of you have some excessive free time, this might be a cool case to check, with the I AM cult and everything.)
(3): The 40th percentile isn't actually that bad. Quincy still would be in the top 60%, so just below average.
Making up Astoria lore to avoid writing about Savo Island!
Prepare to be stuck here for the next few chapters because I can not write at all.
Allright, I'm setting a goal. Finish Guadalcanal by Christmas. That can't be too hard, right?
(These are famous last words)
Anyways, see you next week!