Post by Leon Loire on Apr 1, 2007 4:02:06 GMT 1
The apartment was normally silent, dim and strangely clean, the type of place where you recognized its conformity to the living space from across the hall, yet knew it was the den of one person in particular. Someone, perhaps, uncertain of themselves, someone lost in their own beliefs. Generally you’d imagine finding food that was expired, boxes that were never opened, and devices that were wrapped in dust. A home that only served the purpose of rest, not comfort or haven.
Tonight, after weeks of strange encounters and stranger returns, the young Senior-grade student that resided in the apartment alone was actually gaining some use from the place. In recent months, he tried to make his life edge towards understanding the ideologies of the school he had been sent to; when he succeeded in understanding that, he found himself attempting to “quietly” change their views. Failure, failure, failure again… He never caught on to the true foundation of the place, and yet wished to crush the concrete and pour down a new structure. How could one accomplish that without experience, without some sort of gained respect?
Vigorously rearranging his apartment to fulfill his needs, Leon Loire had awoken the comfort of his home at last. After months of discomfort in a place that supposedly did not accept him, Leon Loire was now feeling more at ease – which was ironic, because in other perspectives, he was feeling more threatened than ever before.
Turning off his television from an hour’s spent time of watching the News, the navy-eyed man leaned his left arm against the plush couch he sat on, his warm left palm outstretched to allow the freshly shaven chin to relax. Loire’s eyes stared out into the reflection of the minor television screen, the hush of the apartment fading away, as his mind fell to thought.
Just two weeks ago, the sloppy and chaotic riot at Hircine High brought the brunt of the school’s violence to a screeching halt, with the definitions of “Hircinian” and “Varronite” rapidly mending into smaller, more refined details. Now, Hircinians saw no logical motive to start a fight with a Varronite simply over social differences or their rogue opinions. The student body was beginning to actually smooth over… other than the fights that rose from other reasons, of course.
‘It’s starting to look like a historical Varron Academy… it’s no wonder Stern’s taken interest.’
And there, as Leon thought roughly, laid the rub of the situation. After the riot, several old threats of Varron Academy began to rekindle, and even before the chaos of that day their presence had been foreshadowed. Kvist attempted to coerce Leon into appeasement by making a truce, Zeniro – Stern Mason’s old muscle – had been reported as a new transfer to the school at least two weeks before the riot, and then there was that phone call from Kyukaku about a month or so talking of Trent Rydell helping Kvist escape federal prosecution.
And today Stern Mason showed his face at last, and within weeks, the true sinners of Varron’s past were back. If Marcus Lawson rose back, then Leon knew something was inevitable.
Throw in the fact that Shuya Katsumoto, the man that aided Kvist in severely harming Kira Karyuudo on the rooftops of Varron Academy just last fall, was looking to create a force to overthrow Darren Blayne’s Captainship, and it was clear that another sloppy situation was on its way to evolve.
‘We can’t strike at Blayne and his Pillars immediately… if that occurred, we’d be struggling to break down the four of them through sheer force, then require several allies to deal with any tough followers, then to have the entire Varronite population somehow swear allegiance to our cause and help us fight a population that outnumbers us ten to one. Even if we had no Kvist or Mason to concern over, our resources would be substantially exhausted simply by keeping order alone. It would instantly bring disorder. And when we calculate Kvist and Mason into the formula…’
It was clear to anyone that listened to Loire’s mind that a direct pace toward accomplishing Katsumoto’s plan was absolute political suicide. Those that would unify to defeat the Pillars would struggle to win the battle, then have to somehow suppress the anger and resistance against the new governors, then still combat both Kvist and Mason as they attempted to overthrow a weak, developing order.
It wasn’t even worth the pain. The current Pillars would leave the Varronites alone if they kept moderate peace, and the only danger they held against Loire and his allies was the chance of retribution for any stupid attack that deserved punishment.
Therefore, Leon needed a diversion, a temporary change in objective that could help organize the Varronite – and even some Hircinian – allies toward a common goal that would build the image of Leon Loire before its absolute necessity.
Yes, that image…
‘Yes, the name… my name…’
Leon knew the truth; even if he wished to live a “normal” life, the figure he had built would be unable. He was a leader, an advocate of Liberty, Equality and Individualism, he could not stand by as Kvist’s Hand of Fate attempted to murder and maim, Mason’s unknown mass of fighters supposedly – ‘Damnit, I hate running on ifs…’ – join to bring Disorder and Chaos, and the Pillars themselves as they forced the student body of Varronite or Hircinian become sheep, conformed dogs.
Leon Loire had to bring change, but not without caution or tactics. While Stern would clearly strike forth mercilessly, Leon had to follow something the merciless fighter himself noted, "Fear is a useful tool Leon, but as you probably know it is best suited for stopping action rather than motivating."[/color]
Fear was a way to oppress; Leon attempted it in his first days in Hircine, and it had not been so successful; but motivation… that was the path of a leader, to give people a dream, a goal, and to charge them forward.
‘Ironic that Mason actually gave me good advice.’
Therefore, Leon could see what had to be accomplished: a new objective, something striving away from the cliché ideology of destroying the Pillars, something that could help unify the Varronite population before even conceiving to turn one’s eyes toward Blayne’s title, an action that would help cleanse the sins of the past…
Leon Loire felt a light, victorious grin spread over his face; he knew exactly what had to be done. Standing up, Leon pulled up his instant messaging program, and within a second its various controls spread across the flat screen of his computer. Pulling up a random Varronite, Leon typed in a few sentences to explain his intent.
``SapphireLight`` says:
Evenin’ JadeStar, how’re you?
^Star+of+Jade^ says:
Leon! What’s up?
``SapphireLight`` says:
Oh, nothing. I actually need to ask a favor.
^Star+of+Jade^ says:
What’s that hun?
``SapphireLight`` says:
I’m hoping to get everyone together into a meeting type thing.
^Star+of+Jade^ says:
Spread the word as usual?
``SapphireLight says:
You know it girlie
Finishing the conversation and feeling a strangely bothered smile pass over his cheeks, Leon turned off the monitor and stood up, strolling forth to the couch again.
‘Soon the Varron population will stand behind me, and we’ll cleanse ourselves of our history’s sins. He will be dealt with, along with his followers, and our order will be given the strength it needs to march forth…’
Leon looked to the coffee table that sat in front of the lounging chair and felt a sink cross his intestines. Picking up the small note that had been sent to him in the mail, Leon frowned tightly, before finding himself read the simple sentence once more.
It was his death note, his meaning to accomplish the end of the System’s power over the student body so quickly. If Leon did not accomplish his goals before the transcribed period, it was uncertain what Hircine’s destiny of Liberty would be…
Leon Loire, the image, the person, the living being, had to succeed in accomplishing his goal of unifying the Varronites, to cleanse the sin of their past, and to inevitably bring peace to Hircine through the end of the System’s power, before his ultimate end came to take away his very existence.
On the day this great nation was born, your liberal mind is destined to die.
--A. D. [/color]
Tonight, after weeks of strange encounters and stranger returns, the young Senior-grade student that resided in the apartment alone was actually gaining some use from the place. In recent months, he tried to make his life edge towards understanding the ideologies of the school he had been sent to; when he succeeded in understanding that, he found himself attempting to “quietly” change their views. Failure, failure, failure again… He never caught on to the true foundation of the place, and yet wished to crush the concrete and pour down a new structure. How could one accomplish that without experience, without some sort of gained respect?
Vigorously rearranging his apartment to fulfill his needs, Leon Loire had awoken the comfort of his home at last. After months of discomfort in a place that supposedly did not accept him, Leon Loire was now feeling more at ease – which was ironic, because in other perspectives, he was feeling more threatened than ever before.
Turning off his television from an hour’s spent time of watching the News, the navy-eyed man leaned his left arm against the plush couch he sat on, his warm left palm outstretched to allow the freshly shaven chin to relax. Loire’s eyes stared out into the reflection of the minor television screen, the hush of the apartment fading away, as his mind fell to thought.
Just two weeks ago, the sloppy and chaotic riot at Hircine High brought the brunt of the school’s violence to a screeching halt, with the definitions of “Hircinian” and “Varronite” rapidly mending into smaller, more refined details. Now, Hircinians saw no logical motive to start a fight with a Varronite simply over social differences or their rogue opinions. The student body was beginning to actually smooth over… other than the fights that rose from other reasons, of course.
‘It’s starting to look like a historical Varron Academy… it’s no wonder Stern’s taken interest.’
And there, as Leon thought roughly, laid the rub of the situation. After the riot, several old threats of Varron Academy began to rekindle, and even before the chaos of that day their presence had been foreshadowed. Kvist attempted to coerce Leon into appeasement by making a truce, Zeniro – Stern Mason’s old muscle – had been reported as a new transfer to the school at least two weeks before the riot, and then there was that phone call from Kyukaku about a month or so talking of Trent Rydell helping Kvist escape federal prosecution.
And today Stern Mason showed his face at last, and within weeks, the true sinners of Varron’s past were back. If Marcus Lawson rose back, then Leon knew something was inevitable.
Throw in the fact that Shuya Katsumoto, the man that aided Kvist in severely harming Kira Karyuudo on the rooftops of Varron Academy just last fall, was looking to create a force to overthrow Darren Blayne’s Captainship, and it was clear that another sloppy situation was on its way to evolve.
‘We can’t strike at Blayne and his Pillars immediately… if that occurred, we’d be struggling to break down the four of them through sheer force, then require several allies to deal with any tough followers, then to have the entire Varronite population somehow swear allegiance to our cause and help us fight a population that outnumbers us ten to one. Even if we had no Kvist or Mason to concern over, our resources would be substantially exhausted simply by keeping order alone. It would instantly bring disorder. And when we calculate Kvist and Mason into the formula…’
It was clear to anyone that listened to Loire’s mind that a direct pace toward accomplishing Katsumoto’s plan was absolute political suicide. Those that would unify to defeat the Pillars would struggle to win the battle, then have to somehow suppress the anger and resistance against the new governors, then still combat both Kvist and Mason as they attempted to overthrow a weak, developing order.
It wasn’t even worth the pain. The current Pillars would leave the Varronites alone if they kept moderate peace, and the only danger they held against Loire and his allies was the chance of retribution for any stupid attack that deserved punishment.
Therefore, Leon needed a diversion, a temporary change in objective that could help organize the Varronite – and even some Hircinian – allies toward a common goal that would build the image of Leon Loire before its absolute necessity.
Yes, that image…
‘Yes, the name… my name…’
Leon knew the truth; even if he wished to live a “normal” life, the figure he had built would be unable. He was a leader, an advocate of Liberty, Equality and Individualism, he could not stand by as Kvist’s Hand of Fate attempted to murder and maim, Mason’s unknown mass of fighters supposedly – ‘Damnit, I hate running on ifs…’ – join to bring Disorder and Chaos, and the Pillars themselves as they forced the student body of Varronite or Hircinian become sheep, conformed dogs.
Leon Loire had to bring change, but not without caution or tactics. While Stern would clearly strike forth mercilessly, Leon had to follow something the merciless fighter himself noted, "Fear is a useful tool Leon, but as you probably know it is best suited for stopping action rather than motivating."[/color]
Fear was a way to oppress; Leon attempted it in his first days in Hircine, and it had not been so successful; but motivation… that was the path of a leader, to give people a dream, a goal, and to charge them forward.
‘Ironic that Mason actually gave me good advice.’
Therefore, Leon could see what had to be accomplished: a new objective, something striving away from the cliché ideology of destroying the Pillars, something that could help unify the Varronite population before even conceiving to turn one’s eyes toward Blayne’s title, an action that would help cleanse the sins of the past…
Leon Loire felt a light, victorious grin spread over his face; he knew exactly what had to be done. Standing up, Leon pulled up his instant messaging program, and within a second its various controls spread across the flat screen of his computer. Pulling up a random Varronite, Leon typed in a few sentences to explain his intent.
``SapphireLight`` says:
Evenin’ JadeStar, how’re you?
^Star+of+Jade^ says:
Leon! What’s up?
``SapphireLight`` says:
Oh, nothing. I actually need to ask a favor.
^Star+of+Jade^ says:
What’s that hun?
``SapphireLight`` says:
I’m hoping to get everyone together into a meeting type thing.
^Star+of+Jade^ says:
Spread the word as usual?
``SapphireLight says:
You know it girlie
Finishing the conversation and feeling a strangely bothered smile pass over his cheeks, Leon turned off the monitor and stood up, strolling forth to the couch again.
‘Soon the Varron population will stand behind me, and we’ll cleanse ourselves of our history’s sins. He will be dealt with, along with his followers, and our order will be given the strength it needs to march forth…’
Leon looked to the coffee table that sat in front of the lounging chair and felt a sink cross his intestines. Picking up the small note that had been sent to him in the mail, Leon frowned tightly, before finding himself read the simple sentence once more.
It was his death note, his meaning to accomplish the end of the System’s power over the student body so quickly. If Leon did not accomplish his goals before the transcribed period, it was uncertain what Hircine’s destiny of Liberty would be…
Leon Loire, the image, the person, the living being, had to succeed in accomplishing his goal of unifying the Varronites, to cleanse the sin of their past, and to inevitably bring peace to Hircine through the end of the System’s power, before his ultimate end came to take away his very existence.
On the day this great nation was born, your liberal mind is destined to die.
--A. D. [/color]