Marcey Gillian's Story

Andreas Moustakas immediately dropped into a combat ready stance as the Asylian rushed the screen, not yet training his rifle. Or else that would be HIM on stage next.

Marcey Gillian was ready to have to walk in and become a service woman. In fact, she was halfway expecting a draft. Put she was sure the procedures to do so were not yet finished. They were still probably preparing for such a large scale attack.

Marcey Gillian was already registered. But she wasn't sure if there needed to be some king of refresh, since the last time she had to do anything outside of being a baker, well...that was an abusive time.

Gerard Lorrette almost turned away at the flash of the Asylian soldier, but also almost assumed stance. His body was caught in a weird panicked in between. He cleared his throat and went for a salute as Prince continued. Shit. He had already registered, but was he ready?

Octavia Capori would have to make an appointment with the conscription office. She made a note to do that immediately after.

A patriotic tune played on the loud speakers.

Octavia Capori hummed along with the tune with pride!

Marcey Gillian sung the song brilliantly and beautifully.

Isambard Prince waved to the crowd. "Thank you, you're all dismissed, souvenirs and refreshments are available! Ad Victoriam!"

Marcey Gillian knew she needed to breathe after that wild event. She actually a vomit, but she held her disgust. She held her intent, she waved instead. It was ideal to make sure that she just left and didn't get noticed with the look on her face.

Marcey Gillian thoughts were very much a mess. She knew that she had to keep things looking as if she was on board with the activities of the Aschen, but the person who harbored her focus of anger and clear disgust was a part of the upper echelon. He caused her so much pain...

"The day I trust anyone but myself again, will be the day the lords of hell possess my soul and rip it to shreds."

But then she would no longer be her. No. Not even the highest level of powers above or below cared about the fate of a measly little insignificant hurt puddle of anger that was Marcey. No. Indeed this place was like a haven to those who already exist here. To those who already are born and raised in The Empire, things were like that of peaches being pick in the most ideal weather conditions; to be brought to the most welcoming home before consumption. Of course no one talks about the machine that forces the thoughts of the public to think the entire process was somehow without hard labor, destructive advantages being taken for the wealthy, and the capitalistic profit that come along with it. Well, maybe not the ASCHEN! Right? They'll have you believe themselves perfect. Right up until you see that they allow those with power to get away with the things they do. Hmph!

Marcey continued to walk, she would happen upon a beautiful park. Just down the road, not far from where she was. She could see children playing. Which drove up her anxiety and feeling of disdain. Because it reminded her of her own child...now lost and wrapped in the arms of the afterlife. Once more, because of him. Just because he simply did his 'job'...

Who would choose their work duties over their LIFE duties? Aren't children supposed to come first? Before Marcey knew it, she was standing in front of the park.

Marcey watched the kids running around. She knew...she would never be able to have the luxury of this familial happiness so long as she continued to stay where she was. She was trapped by the choices of herself for justice; but she was also trapped with feelings of disgust. Disgust for herself. Disgust at the allowance of the choices she made. No one should submit to something that they don't agree to. There is absolutely no reason for anyone to submit to a bad situation is there is profound reasons for the moment to not even be there in the first place. She put her trust in someone, to love them and have them as her partner. For life...yet, that was betrayed and turned into something of a living hell...why was she going through these thoughts again?

Why did she repeat these same redundant thoughts over and over? Feelings of betrayal, feelings of abandonment, feelings of time wasted? She KNEW! Why was she so pathetic? Why?! WHY?! WHY?! These thoughts do nothing for her! Nothing for anyone. No one cares, the reports were buried! The moments of plausible action, LOST!

These thoughts do nothing but slip her into near insanity, trying to sort through her broken heart and mental torment. It was all she could do to not slip up with her plans. She thought about it! More than once! To let it all fall apart. To crawl into a corner. To slit her own throat. To go and just MURDER someone to feel SOMETHING again. Something POSITIVE. To bring back her feelings of control! To not lose her FUCKING MIND! Putting on this farce everyday was so goddamn HARD alone!

Marcey was visibly shivering and holding herself. She wobbled over to a bench, and sat down. Crumbling beneath her overwhelming feelings. She was buried in tears, but instead of wailing, she masked it by making a whimpering noise through the sniffling.

She managed to look up once, and saw a kid playing chess. He couldn't have been older than 9. But he was playing chess, just like her little one used to do at an even younger age. She would challenge her mother to game after game. Her first win was only three years into her learning the game. Most adults would stomp the kids, without mercy too, for learning. That was certainly the role her husband would take. It was one that warranted a steady hand of discipline AND encouragement to pull off properly. Marcey was loving, patient and tactful, meanwhile her husband was a brute tactician. Forcing their daughter through aggressive plays that lead to a series of discouragements and desire to quit. But Marcey would also come in, with a kiss, a hug, and a phrase. "We all fail, but our greatest wins always come after."

Marcey sat, frozen in grief. The words ringing true...

The statue of Apollo loomed quietly over the park. It cast a long shadow over Marcey as she sat there.

Marcey was properly distraught. She was motionless as the tears fell. She didn't know how to break out of her current place. She knew her days of honest living were coming to an end soon. Having already made the necessary payment to the offworlder of is on the way to meet her. All she needed now was to figure out how to move forward...for just a little while longer. To keep it together for just enough time to make the other plans fall into place.

She felt the pressure to vent. To SCREAM. But she could neither. Right now? People would think it was just another sad person being sad on a bench. She she screamed? She would cause attention to herself. She did not want that.

Marcey noticed the shadow casted over her by the statue in the park. The one after it's name sake - Apollo. That was enough for Marcey to finally move. The mere sight of looking up to witness the statue, had her in motion before she could think twice about it. Already moving, she wonder why she felt such a profound pull toward the statue. Maybe it was because of what she already desired, which was to have release. Maybe that was it, but even upon reaching it, she wasn't sure.

She feel on her knees in front of the statue, tears and snot still streaming. Praying to the statue for her sanity and well being. To successfully exit off planet to start a knew life, where she would be treated with a better life.

The serenity of the park was suddenly interrupted by the sound of warning sirens, and the deafening, ear shattering crack of the anti-orbital defense guns firing into the sky, which reverberated all throughout the bay. This ordeal lasted a few seconds, until everything went silent once more, save for the distant sound of car alarms, and the panic of people in the streets.

The Statue still stood fast.

Iter-Caprica 1 was a bustling highway, hundreds of sleek looking cars sped down the highway, their mostly electric engines giving off little in the way of sound, save for the sound of tires on asphalt. The cars were driven on the right side of the road.