Eternity RPC Board
07-20-2022, 01:33 PM
Wilmington, Florinthus
Alvan, 1578
Raul lay quietly listening to the gentle snoring of his sons and spouse. They shared a room in the small flat they lived in. It was cramped but comfortable, and certainly better than the repurposed shipping container they had stayed in for over a year when they had first come to Florinthus.
Those had been wild times; It was nearly half a decade ago. The government had declared itself a haven for refugees and found itself harboring hundreds of thousands of refugees in months. Raul and his family had been among them. Most of the refugees had come from Wadiyah and were largely Akhadist, but Raul and his kin had come from Sequoia where they had been experiencing political persecution. Still though, they were all in the same refugee camp, and more than once Raul had been leered at by native Florinthians using words more specifically reserved for Akhadists.
The government was excited about the shipping containers, seeing them as a cost-friendly to house many people quickly, and they did keep the rain out at least, but the reality was they were dingy and unsecure. The doors broke more often than not and Raul could still hear the horrible screams as people were abused. Sexual violence and theft were rampant in those early days. Surely there were police, but they were generally more focused on keeping them in the camps than dealing with what happened within. He had done his best to secure their container with a large beam wedged against the door and it did the job, but he still lay awake some nights wondering if it had all been worth it, similarly to how he was laying now.
There had been an explosion in Wilmington recently. There had been many casualties and the news had been talking about it nonstop. They were on the hunt for the terrorists and there was widespread belief that they were motivated by anti-immigrant and anti-akhadist rhetoric to commit violence.
This was different for Raul. He had always dealt with small things. A comment from a client or co-worker, a dirty look at the market -- just general ignorance. He had gotten used to it and it was mostly rare, anyway. Just a few bad eggs, he had told himself and his kids many times. While this was probably still true, *just a few bad eggs,* the sheer violence these men had resorted to scared Raul in a way he hadn't felt since he had left Sequoia. Here, everything had seemed so quiet and civil. This would have been more expected in Sequoia, where political violence happened more commonly (albeit not generally with explosions). Raul was troubled.
Still, his sons were getting an education -- a real education. His wife was safe in their flat. Raul had work -- decent work with a construction firm, similar to what he did in Sequoia. They were able to live and live well. This was likely still the best decision.
He got up and went into the main room of the flat and switched on the television. The reporters were saying that authorities had caught the suspects. Three men, one was killed while being apprehended. They had holed up in a house where they took a family hostage, though none of them were injured. They showed a clip of the Prime Minister speaking from the day before, and his words echoed in Raul's ears.
"We will not succumb to fear of violence. We will stand steadfast for what is right and do what we must to uphold Florinthia ideals *for all*. These terrorists will not shake our commitment."
Raul certainly hoped that was true.
Alvan, 1578
Raul lay quietly listening to the gentle snoring of his sons and spouse. They shared a room in the small flat they lived in. It was cramped but comfortable, and certainly better than the repurposed shipping container they had stayed in for over a year when they had first come to Florinthus.
Those had been wild times; It was nearly half a decade ago. The government had declared itself a haven for refugees and found itself harboring hundreds of thousands of refugees in months. Raul and his family had been among them. Most of the refugees had come from Wadiyah and were largely Akhadist, but Raul and his kin had come from Sequoia where they had been experiencing political persecution. Still though, they were all in the same refugee camp, and more than once Raul had been leered at by native Florinthians using words more specifically reserved for Akhadists.
The government was excited about the shipping containers, seeing them as a cost-friendly to house many people quickly, and they did keep the rain out at least, but the reality was they were dingy and unsecure. The doors broke more often than not and Raul could still hear the horrible screams as people were abused. Sexual violence and theft were rampant in those early days. Surely there were police, but they were generally more focused on keeping them in the camps than dealing with what happened within. He had done his best to secure their container with a large beam wedged against the door and it did the job, but he still lay awake some nights wondering if it had all been worth it, similarly to how he was laying now.
There had been an explosion in Wilmington recently. There had been many casualties and the news had been talking about it nonstop. They were on the hunt for the terrorists and there was widespread belief that they were motivated by anti-immigrant and anti-akhadist rhetoric to commit violence.
This was different for Raul. He had always dealt with small things. A comment from a client or co-worker, a dirty look at the market -- just general ignorance. He had gotten used to it and it was mostly rare, anyway. Just a few bad eggs, he had told himself and his kids many times. While this was probably still true, *just a few bad eggs,* the sheer violence these men had resorted to scared Raul in a way he hadn't felt since he had left Sequoia. Here, everything had seemed so quiet and civil. This would have been more expected in Sequoia, where political violence happened more commonly (albeit not generally with explosions). Raul was troubled.
Still, his sons were getting an education -- a real education. His wife was safe in their flat. Raul had work -- decent work with a construction firm, similar to what he did in Sequoia. They were able to live and live well. This was likely still the best decision.
He got up and went into the main room of the flat and switched on the television. The reporters were saying that authorities had caught the suspects. Three men, one was killed while being apprehended. They had holed up in a house where they took a family hostage, though none of them were injured. They showed a clip of the Prime Minister speaking from the day before, and his words echoed in Raul's ears.
"We will not succumb to fear of violence. We will stand steadfast for what is right and do what we must to uphold Florinthia ideals *for all*. These terrorists will not shake our commitment."
Raul certainly hoped that was true.