(28 Jun 2001) Alice sees a bizarre event, while gazing out the window in her classroom.
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Alice's Vision
(28 Jun 2001) Alice sees a bizarre event, while gazing out the window in her classroom. |
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At the head of the classroom, a matronly woman in her forties sits, brown hair twisted into a tight bun at the top of her head, glasses perched precariously on her nose, continually sliding down. She wears a florid calf-length dress too bright to be flattering. As the pupils settle into their assigned seats, she smiles at them. "Good afternoon, children."
Alice makes her way over to her seat by the window and sits down, brushing her dress as she does so and putting her backpack down against her desk. She folds her hands in her lap and regards her teacher with rapt attention. "Good afternoon, Miss Marchon!" she chimes in with the rest of the class.
Mrs. Marchon beams at the enthusiasm displayed by at least some of the class. She pushes her glasses up on her nose, and moves to stand before the blackboards with her pointer in hand. The words "Greece" and "Democracy" are written in big letters across one of the boards. "Now, class, today we are going to continue our studies of ancient Greek history. I realize that it may seem far removed from our times, but the foundations of our present-day government were laid in their era," she says, her voice prim and fussy, as if prepared for rebellion.
Although she doesn't quite understand the importance of these weighty subjects her teacher attempts to explain to her, Alice has no doubt they must very much be important by what her teacher tells her. Foundations, eras, and ancient people are very important things, she thinks.
The teacher glances at the book open on the corner of her desk while a couple of kids at the back snicker over an exchanged note. "In, uh, 632 BC, to be exact, the monarchy in Athens was replaced by the Council of Areopagus--" Even Mrs. Marchon struggles to pronounce the Greek word. "--a group of wealthy nobles. They elected 'archons'--" She pauses here to write the word "archon" on the board. "--who actually ruled the city for one-year periods."
Outside, the sunlit Siege des Anges stretches, its poised angelic statue solemn and majestic with her spread wings and sheathed sword. A sparrow lights on the park wall and twitters.
Rebecca is a lot like an ar-chon, the young blonde haired girl considers. She'll have to mention that later when she has a chance to do so. As she considers this her eyes wander towards the window, and then to the angels beyond. Matters of history and democracy are put aside so that the young girl can watch her favorite place in town. The angels are a comfort especially with talk of returning to that scary cave.
The park outside does look a great deal more inviting than either the frightening cave, or the current history lesson. The teacher stares at the blackboard thoughtfully, then writes "632" next to "Democracy" on it. "This wasn't truly a democratic system, since the Council of those allowed to vote was fairly small. Now, in, uh," she consults the book again, turning a few pages, "580 BC, things changed again. A man named Solon--" This word is added to the growing list on the board. "--reformed Athens and changed their constitution. Where the old Council had restricted the ruling offices to a select few, Solon divided all of the Athenian citizens into four classes. The different classes had different rights, but each of the classes was represented on the new Council of 400." On the board, "Council of 400" is dutifully chalked.
Though she does listen, if only a little, the girl by the window focuses more on the sunny Siege de Anges than on any matter of history. Greece and politics are places and concepts as far away from her as places like New York and Paris, but the sword-drawing angel is here and now. And he has always been right there where she can see him. Just like Lord Mel, she thinks.
As she continues to watch out the window, next to the statue, Alice thinks she sees something move near its pedestal. Whatever it is lurks on the other side from her, further obscured by the angel's shadow. Over her shoulder the blond girl can hear a muffled "psst!"
Alice blinks from her reverie and glances back behind her, looking attentive without actually inquiring verbally what the voice's owner wants.
A little brown-haired girl, Jessie, surreptitiously slides a note to the edge of her desk, towards Alice. The name "Crissy" is scrawled across its intricately folded top.
"One hundred people from each of the four hereditary classes made up the Council of 400. The nine archons still ruled, but they were now drawn from a lot of people picked by all four classes, not just the most privileged lot. All four classes had the right to a voice in Athenian assembly, and could be jurors at trials," Mrs. Marchon's continuing lecture lapses into her customary reciting drone, and she seems to catch herself in it, stopping to ask, "Any questions, children?"
Having been unwillingly brought in to schemes of note smuggling before, Alice knows just what to do. Though passing notes is forbidden by teachers, the blonde girl doesn't want to upset anyone in her class, and though having misgivings about these note transfers she goes along anyway. Her foot reaches out and bumps against the girl's desk in front of her a little and she whispers, "Note."
Crissy, clearly an old hand at this, shifts her left hand from its resting position on her thigh, swinging it between the wall and her chair until the palm of her hand is angled towards the blond girl, awaiting delivery of the note. While Alice leans forward to push it into the waiting palm, the corner of her eye catches another odd movement in the park.
Alice, though distracted now, continues to pass the note without focusing on its delivery. She turns her head a little and peers outside as she tries to spot the source of the odd movement.
Mrs. Marchon fidgets with her arms, folding them at first and then unfolding them, placing one hand in her pocket, as she turns from the board to survey her charges. She sighs visibly at the lack of commentary from the students. "Solon also committed Athens to written law. Can anyone tell me why it's important to have laws written down?"
Normally Alice might be one to answer questions like this, especially history questions. But at the moment she's just too caught up in trying to follow a shadow and pass a note at the same time. It's very consuming.
Outside the window, she sees something -- a dog, maybe? But it seems so low to the ground, and as it slips behind the statue, she thinks there's something not canine about its vanishing tail -- too flat, perhaps. Or long. Or not in the right place on its rear.
How weird! The note is dropped in what Alice thinks is a hand, and then she leans back to more fully turn her head so that she can get an even better look. And what a funny tail.
A blond boy raises his hand, and Mrs. Marchon, with obvious relief, calls on him to answer. He does so, in a high-pitched and nervous voice, with occasional stutters. He pronounces "lawyers" like "voyeurs" and half the class titters.
Alice doesn't giggle, not because she didn't really hear the response, but because she isn't sure why it's funny. Her brow wrinkles a little as she peers down to the park. There's something funny here she believes, but it's outside.
When Alice cranes her neck to look, she almost sees it again -- the curve of a dark back making a bump in the outline of the pedestal. But it's almost as if, whatever it is, it is avoiding her gaze.
The young girl by the window wonders if one of her friends is down there teasing her. Tommy, or maybe Simon. They're always teasing her. But neither of them have a tail -- or maybe they do and they never told her! She giggles quietly at the thought and keeps looking.
Meanwhile, the teacher raps her pointer against the desk several times, calling for silence. One boy at the back of the class can't seem to stop giggling, though the others fall into line after a few moments, at Mrs. Marchon's glower. She stalks to the back of the classroom.
With her focus on the statue, Alice is a little surprised to suddenly notice some new large shape moving, near the flagpole. From where she sits, a tree blocks her view of much of that part of the park, so even when she turns her eyes to it, she can't tell what it is, or even be sure something's there, except there are now some very dark areas where she used to glimpse green grass and park.
Alice's eyes widen at the change below. Black shapes, maybe, and they're doing all sorts of things. Lord Mel? Wishing the bell would ring, Alice can do little more than sit and watch from where she is. Or, maybe she could go outside. Maybe.
The unruly boy at the back quiets before Mrs. Marchon reaches him, and after an uncomfortable exchange that Alice doesn't really hear, Mrs. Marchon walks back to the front of the class, approaching the blond girl's desk as she does so. Out the window, Alice sees a glint of red through the leaves of the tree, at about the level of a man next to the flag pole.
The girl blinks again and cranes her neck even farther so she can see. The red and black shadow -- just like in the forest! Lord Mel might be right here at her school and right outside her classroom window!
The teacher continues her lecture as she returns to the front of the classroom. "Unfortunately, Solon's efforts at instituting democracy in Athens were short-lived. A man named Peisistratus attempted to make himself a tyrant in Athens in 561 BC--" Alice has not even half an ear for what her teacher is saying, as, at that moment, the figure of a great black horse leaps into view, past the tree limb that obscured her view of the flagpole, and towards the angel's statue!
Alice's jaw just drops at the sight of the black horse, and can only stare with fixed attention and wide eyes at the giant black horse below.
The black horse lands lightly before the statue, head dropped low, and she can see his red mane whipping around his neck, and the arc of his spiral horn aimed at something near its pedestal. Just then-- "Alice!" Mrs. Marchon's hand drops suddenly onto the girl's shoulder.
"Eek!" squeaks Alice in surprise. She jumps in her seat, then looks up suddenly.
"Are you listening to me, child? I asked you, in what year did Solon's reforms occur?" The normally motherly Mrs. Marchon looks rather more wicked-step-motherly at the moment.
Alice ceases gaping and blushes deeply. She wasn't really paying attention after all and she really wants to go running out the classroom door to see what she can find. "I-I don't know, M-miss Marchon," she confesses meekly.
The teacher sighs deeply. "See me after class, Alice." She shakes her head, continuing to the front. When Alice risks a glance out the window while Mrs. Marchon's back is to her, she sees -- nothing. The square is empty, save for the angelic statues and other everyday features of the Siege.
The girl lowers her head after she finds nothing outside when she looks back, and on top of that now she has to stay after class. From here on she tries to at least pay enough attention to answer any further questions. She cannot help but think about what she just saw every now and again though, Lord Mel was here, and he was doing something. Maybe it was a clue.
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This site serves as a chronicle of sessions in an online roleplaying campaign moderated by Conrad "Lynx" Wong and May "Rowan" Wasserman. The contents of this site are (c) 2001, 2002 by Conrad Wong and May Wasserman except where stated otherwise. Despite the "children's fantasy" theme of this campaign, this site is not intended for young readership, due to mild language and violence.