Don't Tread On Me
"Have the Carthians of Seattle ever really done anything, Tanner?"
"Sure. Not agitated and revolted like you think Carthians are supposed to, though. We've got everything we could reasonably expect. The laws are more sensible than most domains. We have representation, we're treated as equals. No one has taken any actions against us. We're not the type to rebel just for the sake of rebellion."
He wondered how many times he'd had that conversation.
Before Seattle's "polite anarchy" turned out to be a place where a guy could get murdered at a party by a mob, and nobody ever spoke up as to why other than "he's a jerk." So much for being polite.
Before Sophia abdicated in favor of Jean-Henri. The guy whose biggest selling point was that he'd been a longtime, reliable, community-minded resident... who turned around and handed over his court and apparently all his power to a crowd of fuckin' n00bs.
Before the sudden influx of Invictus and their cronies. Before Edward Cornell, and the cannibals, and Nelson's demands for innocent blood across the water.
Before Jean-Henri made a Seneschal out of a Lance who'd been in the city for two months and whose biggest claim to fame was that Cullpepper had punched him in the face.
The Carthians met, and discussed, and decided. Tanner had been right all along; there was no lack of ability or gumption, simply a prior lack of need.
There was time for Jean-Henri and the Invictus to pull things out of the fire... but Tanner was left with the grim assurance that he wasn't the only one who would soon dearly miss the "polite anarchy."
"I fear all we have done is to awaken a sleeping giant, and fill him with a terrible resolve." --Admiral Yamamoto, "Tora! Tora! Tora!"
"Sure. Not agitated and revolted like you think Carthians are supposed to, though. We've got everything we could reasonably expect. The laws are more sensible than most domains. We have representation, we're treated as equals. No one has taken any actions against us. We're not the type to rebel just for the sake of rebellion."
He wondered how many times he'd had that conversation.
Before Seattle's "polite anarchy" turned out to be a place where a guy could get murdered at a party by a mob, and nobody ever spoke up as to why other than "he's a jerk." So much for being polite.
Before Sophia abdicated in favor of Jean-Henri. The guy whose biggest selling point was that he'd been a longtime, reliable, community-minded resident... who turned around and handed over his court and apparently all his power to a crowd of fuckin' n00bs.
Before the sudden influx of Invictus and their cronies. Before Edward Cornell, and the cannibals, and Nelson's demands for innocent blood across the water.
Before Jean-Henri made a Seneschal out of a Lance who'd been in the city for two months and whose biggest claim to fame was that Cullpepper had punched him in the face.
The Carthians met, and discussed, and decided. Tanner had been right all along; there was no lack of ability or gumption, simply a prior lack of need.
There was time for Jean-Henri and the Invictus to pull things out of the fire... but Tanner was left with the grim assurance that he wasn't the only one who would soon dearly miss the "polite anarchy."
"I fear all we have done is to awaken a sleeping giant, and fill him with a terrible resolve." --Admiral Yamamoto, "Tora! Tora! Tora!"