The Streets of Sidra, Morning, Thursday (Fandom Time)
They rode into Sidra proper around noon, Karla's silver and blue banner flying. The night before, they had debated heading in early, just before the sun rose, but Karla had refused. She was not going to skulk into her city like a thief. No, she was going to march in there, head high and shoulders back, and demand what was hers by right.
The last thing she could afford right now is the appearance of weakness. Let them judge her on her brazenness if they must, but they would never see her cower.
Of course, the time they had spent waiting and preparing had given the city a chance to prepare for their arrival, too. And they were hell-bent on showing Karla that she was not wanted.
Their parade was met with jeers and taunts, Blood lining up on either side of the street to heckle and toss garbage their way. Shields protected their entourage, but it was a sober reminder that they were in the heart of Hobart's own territory. Some people called her an impostor and tried to spit. Others hissed at the Hourglass she wore openly. Others just called her a liar, a bitch, a whore. Karla did not respond and only spoke to keep her Court in line. As much as their words and anger hurt, they were not her focus today. She had a meeting at the estate to get to.
Worse than the catcalls and the filth were the posters. Some enterprising people with a the ability to hold a pen and access to a printer had printed up hundreds, perhaps thousands of rude, salacious broadsides. Karla was, as to be expected, featured prominently in most of them, though if the Fandomites cared to look around, they'd see themselves represented, too--just not kindly or accurately.
By the third time they had passed a picture of Karla riding a chicken (no, not in a way that required a saddle or bridle), Julian had had enough. "Remove those," he snapped. "They are an affront to our Queen."
"Really?" Karla said, letting her voice be heard. "Well, I'll grant you the composition is trite and the merit slim, but I don't know if I'd consider myself affronted. More disappointed that with was the best they could offer. I had my hopes set on something a little grander to show their contempt."
[NFB, for those who are here with her.]
The last thing she could afford right now is the appearance of weakness. Let them judge her on her brazenness if they must, but they would never see her cower.
Of course, the time they had spent waiting and preparing had given the city a chance to prepare for their arrival, too. And they were hell-bent on showing Karla that she was not wanted.
Their parade was met with jeers and taunts, Blood lining up on either side of the street to heckle and toss garbage their way. Shields protected their entourage, but it was a sober reminder that they were in the heart of Hobart's own territory. Some people called her an impostor and tried to spit. Others hissed at the Hourglass she wore openly. Others just called her a liar, a bitch, a whore. Karla did not respond and only spoke to keep her Court in line. As much as their words and anger hurt, they were not her focus today. She had a meeting at the estate to get to.
Worse than the catcalls and the filth were the posters. Some enterprising people with a the ability to hold a pen and access to a printer had printed up hundreds, perhaps thousands of rude, salacious broadsides. Karla was, as to be expected, featured prominently in most of them, though if the Fandomites cared to look around, they'd see themselves represented, too--just not kindly or accurately.
By the third time they had passed a picture of Karla riding a chicken (no, not in a way that required a saddle or bridle), Julian had had enough. "Remove those," he snapped. "They are an affront to our Queen."
"Really?" Karla said, letting her voice be heard. "Well, I'll grant you the composition is trite and the merit slim, but I don't know if I'd consider myself affronted. More disappointed that with was the best they could offer. I had my hopes set on something a little grander to show their contempt."
[NFB, for those who are here with her.]