29 March 2019
The days of the school-wide memorial was a bright one; overcast but warm, it was like the world didn't care that more lives had been lost in the wake of this awful tragedy. A sombre-slash-bored air blanketed the students and faculty as they filed into the auditorium (the larger one, usually used for assemblies) and tears were abound in those who had been particularly close with the fallen.
Theodore, himself, hadn't been very close with Sheryl Topp. She was one of the more popular ones; popular in the way that most who were lucky enough to be knighted with the 'pretty privilege' were. Mrs Fawcett, on the other hand, was the dean for their grade and as such, the students had more or less grown up with her, in a sense. Still, Theodore often found the stern teacher to be rather frightening; especially when she found something about you that didn't suit her tastes (usually this meant something to do with how you wore your school uniform or how you acted whilst wearing it—whilst "…representing the school"). But just because he didn't know either of them very well, didn't mean he wanted them to die.
Neither the teachers nor the police had really told anyone (save the families) what had really happened to the pair; only that they had been a few of the many who had been caught up in the debris of the Meritech Industries fire. There had been whispers of a bombing or a wayward LANE with a vendetta, but those were shut down pretty quickly, if only so they didn't cause a panic. But it was pretty clear what had happened—especially to those who had been there when it had happened.
Caught off-guard by falling debris or trapped under ruins of furniture, they'd been subjected to the boiling elements of the environment around them. Boiled to death like lobsters in a pot of water; poor crimson creatures that didn't know they were dying until it was too late (a lot of screaming lobsters had plagued Theodore's nightmares following that fire, which is why he'd asked Don Klaus about his ghosts. It hadn't really helped). Inwardly though, a small part—a part that refused to admit it—was kind of glad that it had been them and not him who had been caught in the crossfires of the burning building.
For that though, he had Mr Bergman to thank; which in itself, brought up another conundrum because there was no way his teacher hadn't seen the blue blood splattered across his student. Theodore could only assume that the reason he hadn't been dobbed in to the authorities earlier, was because Mr Bergman had either hidden or forgotten the fact his student had been painted in blue blood when he'd hauled him from the burning building. Whatever the reason, Theodore could only hope that his social studies teacher had at least half a mind to keep what he saw, under wraps because he didn't particularly feel like being shipped off to the middle of nowhere to be poked full of holes.
Shifting in his seat, the hard plastic chair beneath him or the overwhelming heat of 500-odd bodies in the one room did nothing to help with the comfortability of the situation. Theodore wished that they would crack more than just the doors open because (and speaking from experience) if they didn't, there was bound to be some sort of incident. Last prizegiving, that was one of the sixth graders who had projectile vomited into the aisle (and a few others who had been empathically triggered by the action) and the year before that, one of the assistant teachers passed out, up on stage. Something which had resulted in the deacon being called to perform the Last Rites, the principal (who had gone to help) being punched out and the history teacher's pants to rip wide open as he rushed to help.
"…It's at times like these, that it is important for us to come together as a community" Principal Higgins drawled from up on the stage. Many of the students winced at the whistling of the microphone feedback that echoed after the device was practically shoved into his mouth. Principal Higgins was a short man, but stiff-back and broad-shouldered, but he cut an imposing figure, all the same. There was something aristocratic in his reputation, which he enhanced with dapper suits and smart gloves. Which is why some of the older students had ended up nicknaming him, 'The Count'
Stood upon the step-stool, Principal Higgins spoke solemnly into the microphone, barely even flinching at the sound of the feedback that whistled in his ears."That we all come together to heal, that we come together to grieve and it is an immeasurable fact that their deaths were an unimaginable tragedy…"
"Psst!" Milton leant over to whisper in Theodore's ear.
"Huh?" Theodore hummed, blinking back to reality as he tried not to react to the warm breath wafting over him. Twisting slightly to catch sight of his friend, he paused, a little caught off-guard by the unshed tears in his eyes. Theodore hadn't been aware that Milton had known Sheryl, let alone even liked her.
"…Sheryl Topp was an exceptional student and a wonderful friend to all of us. Principal Higgins continued, eliciting muffled snickers as he almost swallowed the microphone for the umpteenth time. "Hard-working and dedicated; she will be missed"
"Why didn't you tell me about Sheryl?" Milton accused wetly.
"I—I didn't know…" Theodore stammered. And he didn't, not at the time.
"But you were there" Milton eyed up the bright pink cast as if to emphasise his point.
"It's all still kinda fuzzy" He tried.
"…Annabelle Fawcett has—had been a teacher at Saint Gregory's Royal Academy for the past thirty years" Principal Higgins barely stumbled over his tenses as he continued, "And I know that many of her years here were well spent, as she always enjoyed teaching the younger generations; bettering them for a brighter tomorrow…"
"Whatever…" Milton's expression soured as he returned to sitting normally at the behest of Mr Burrows' silent glare from the sidelines.
"I'm not lying!" Theodore hissed, a little offended that his friend would think that he was.
"Sure" He replied dismissively. Clearly their conversation was done, but Theodore wasn't really sure as to what he had done wrong.
Turning back to watch the slideshow of pictures up on the overhead projector with a confused pout firmly pressed onto his lips, Theodore tried to understand what was going on. Milton appeared to be resolutely ignoring him as he quietly cried for a girl that he had never really known and one hand was clasped tightly with Helga who sat on his other side. Actually, if Theodore didn't know any better, he would've thought that Milton had had a crush on their late classmate, because there was now way that he was that upset about Mrs Fawcett!
"…Saint Gregory would be proud of them both, even with their lives cut so short" Principal Higgins continued, leafing through the lined reams of paper before him. "It is impossible to express the hole that their losses will leave in our community and out thoughts & prayers go out to their loved ones…"
"Look at these fakers!" Lillian hissed from a few seats over. She glared at the student body around them, some baring the misty eyes as Milton. "Bet none of them even knew her name until today!"
"You didn't even like Sheryl!" Christopher replied, scratching at the bandage on his face.
"That's not the point!"
"Hehe~!" A few seats down sat Michael Parrish, who was giggling quietly at the whole service with his best friend, Wilson Miller. He was just lucky that they were far enough from the front that the grieving families couldn't her them and that they were out of arm's reach from the teachers. Because otherwise, Theodore was sure that they would've received a smack around the ears.
"What?" Wilson giggled in kind, not quite sure what it was that they were laughing at.
"Who here is actually interested in this?" Micheal replied, grinning into his upturned collar. "This is so stupid! Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah…!"
"Oh! She was SUCH a great student!" Wilson soon joined in, mocking the deceased girl.
"Oh! She's gonna leave such a BIG hole in the community!" Michael continued, mock-crying and earning a few raised eyebrows and turned heads his way. It seemed that Micheal Parrish couldn't even go a single hour without the whole world being revolved around him. But what did they expect? He was an attention seeker.
"…Dirtbag" Helga scowled in the pair's direction, leaning forward to peer around both Milton and Theodore.
Brows furrowed, Theodore slowly turned to meet Helga's eyes which seemed to burn with a fierce hatred that he could not understand. Yes, Michael and Wilson were being unreasonably cruel with their jokes; especially considering Sheryl and Mrs Fawcett had just died, but he didn't think that that level of hatred was necessary. She hadn't even known them that long, how could she hate someone so much?
"…I'd liked to introduce you to Lucille Ordoe, she's a local grief counsellor from a little church down in Arizona" Principal Higgins continued, unabashed by the disruptions in the audience as he gestured over to a pair of elven women who was all sharp angles and pretty smiles. Theodore shivered in his seat as he sat up straighter at the mention of Arizona; no good came out of that desert state. "But before she comes up here to talk to you all, I just want you to know, that those of you who are having trouble dealing with this tragic loss, that you are not alone. We are here to help"
An hour later and they were still stuck in their plastic pews, but the memorial for the two and the following group grief counselling had moved on to something far worse. A LANE public service announcement. Principal Higgins eventually trotted back over to the podium, replacing the grief counsellor as he did so. He took a moment to scramble up onto the step-stool, muttering to himself as he did so. The loved ones of the fallen had already drifted off to the school's foyer by this point, regrouping for tea & scones; leaving the students at the mercy of their teachers.
"Thank you, Lucille" Principal Higgins intoned, "Now, before you all go off to lunch, there is one more item of business"
"Huh?" Muffled confusion ruffled through the audience as people tried to figure out just what was so important. Perhaps it had something to do with the other strange elven woman up on stage?
"Firstly, I must elicit a very serious warning about criminal images shared on mobile devices" Principal Higgins addressed them, sounding far more far colder than he had only a moment ago. "This kind of behaviour is not only despicable, but it has very serious consequences that may result in legal action. Now, we do not know as of yet who sent the photographs in question. However, we are continuing to look into it"
Apparently people had been sharing recent snapshots of the crime scenes that had sprung up around the city, over the last week—the assassination at Griddy's Doughnuts, the aftermath of the Meritech Industries fire and the shooting spree at Gimble Brothers Thrift Store. The pictures were grainy and hard to read at best, but still, it was easy enough to tell that something bad had happened there, in each of the aforementioned places. The only consolation was that Griddy's and Gimble Brothers were quick to get back on their feet after the crime scene tape had been cleared away.
"With that in mind, please welcome Ethel Salnic to the stage" Principal Higgins signed off, this time being replaced with the second mysterious elven—mogadorian—woman.
"Thank you, sir. As Principal Higgins said, my name is Ethel Salnic and I am a teacher at the Zaydell Research & Rehabilitation Centre in Michigan" Ethel smiled toothily, "Now, I've got a video for you all to watch, but before I show that; I would like to acknowledge the serious uptick in LANE attacks recently. But not to fear, your LANE Keepers and associates have the situation well under control. Thank you…roll the clip"
THE ADVENTURES OF STUPID AND STUDIOUS
in:
HOW TO SPOT A LANE & WHAT TO DO, IF YOU DO
"We now return to The Adventures of Stupid & Studious! Please wait until the end of the film to ask any further questions and queries about this content! Enjoy!"
"Stupid is friendly, but he doesn't follow directions very well" Stupid—clad in a red t-shirt—hopped off of the counter and turned to wave enthusiastically at the camera, with a large and giddy grin plastered across his face.
"Now Studious always does his job by the book" Studious—clad in a green t-shirt—politely waved at the camera, in turn, much less violently than Stupid. In the meantime, the boy in question, appeared to be digging for gold as he buried his finger knuckle-deep up his nose next to him.
REMEMBER B.L.A.B.
BIRTHMARKS, LEGACIES, ACTIONS & BLOOD!
"To spot a LANE" Lectured Studious, finger up in the air. "Remember the acronym: B.L.A.B. Birthmark, Legacies, Actions and Blood. LANEs have strange circular BIRTHMARKS on their bodies, supernatural powers called LEGACIES, their ACTIONS are odd and their BLOOD is blue!"
REMEMBER TO ALERT YOUR NEAREST LANE KEEPER OF ANY SIGHTINGS!
"What is it, Stupid?" Studious asked, head titled in question.
"I think that my classmate might be a LANE" Stupid gasped dramatically, hands cupping cheeks and eyes bulging wide as he watched a classmate's nose bleed blue. "But I don't wanna get in trouble. What do I do?"
"You should alert your nearest LANE Keeper of the situation" Studious replied, authoritatively. "You can do this by either calling into the emergency hotline at 5263—5337 or leave a message at Sanctuaries-Neighbourhood-Watch/LANE/Found or by approaching a Keeper, yourself. Remember the hotlines are open day and night! Plus! Their anonymous, so if you're concerned about trouble, don't worry! Your LANE Keepers are here to help!"
REMEMBER TO STAY CLEAR OF THE DANGEROUS LANES!
"Hey! Look, Studious! A LANE!" Stupid chirped, pointing across the street at a cut out of Vie [Four] of the Council Ennead. "Let's go say 'hi!"
"Wait, Stupid! We can't do that! LANEs are dangerous!" Studious halted Stupid from running across the road. He then turned to the camera. "Instead, you should alert your nearest LANE Keeper of the situation and tell them everything that you can remember! Remember LANEs are extremely dangerous and are known to fight back, if cornered. Do not approach them if possible"
IF WE WORK TOGETHER, WE CAN HAVE A BETTER TOMORROW!