There existed a glimmer of hope that Juniper fared better than she had. Reality always proved differently, but that spark Juniper ignited in her all those months before still shone today. But the tell of Juniper searching for their glasses dimmed that light all the same. A stalling, perhaps; an unwillingness to depart bad news.
Well — it wasn’t quite bad news yet. The day was long, and they had only just begun.
“That would probably be for the best,” she replied, taking another sip of her glass. She cast her gaze at those around the two of them; for now, even with a topic that could barely land them in trouble, tension eased from her shoulders at the lack of Watchers mingling with the crowd. They prowled somewhere close, she was sure, but their conversation would go unheard for now.
“Can’t say much better. I’ve been flitting about here and there, and I suppose it’s a good sign I’ve seen people take the letter rather than refuse. But there’s always a doubt they’re just not reading it.”
Licking her lips, she soon shook her head. “And it’s a shame, Juniper. This is really some of your best work, I swear. And I hope somebody feels as — as charged up as I do each time I go over it.”
After several nights, it was as tightly edited as Juniper could make it, but there was still a possibility it was still too long. They wanted to address both mutants and humans but appeased neither. Juniper aimed to be sympathetic, but anger always managed to surface. It sounded better to pity humans, but watching their letters reduced to a nuisance for janitorial staff only made them deserving of the condescension underneath it. Another day Juniper will complain that the fatal flaw of writing is that it masks sincerity, but if the letter read as backhanded then no one could deny Juniper was honest. If it came from anyone else the validation of someone who already agreed with them was hollow but the compliment lightens their mood. I
“The day isn’t over yet.”
Turning behind them, Juniper spotted the Watcher she was looking at. Juniper had seen a watcher earlier who didn’t seem to notice them, but it was possible another had trailed them to the bar. There were lots of different people handing things out around the festival, but there wouldn’t be watchers there at all if not to look out for people like them.
“They should have just held this whole thing in district one.” Juniper took out a flier with a list of some of the events being held. “I wouldn’t even know where to begin dissecting this.”
A library would have limited interest to a generation of people without a formal education. A taste of Eden was a chance to see resources nonexistent in their district. The whole was false nostalgia trip with most affordable thing to do was get inebriated. Not even the drink was good and left an unpleasant burn in their throat.
“When I wrote that letter a century sounded so long ago, but I keep thinking about this Blast from the Past. It’s filled with all these pictures of people building this city together, and three generations later this festival is all we have to show for it.”
date: october 5th
location: drinking area
closed: @academiccomrade
It’s a few minutes than their agreed upon meet-up, but she’s already itching for Juniper’s report. Her stack of letters isn’t quite as large as when they parted, but it’s unfortunately not an amount that sparks confidence. The stack feels lighter in her hands, but what is that truly worth if she witnesses one too many letters being tossed aside? How many of them would litter the ground by the end of the day?
She sighs, not for the first time. And she reads Juniper’s words again. There’s nothing there that wouldn’t excite. Already, her heart pounds at the way Juniper wields their reasoning across the page. And others should feel as she does: hopeful that this city will change if they just band together.
But on a day like today —— she sighs.
It doesn’t take long then to spot Juniper and wave them over. The laughter of the adults, buzzed and delighted at their own humor, should provide enough noise for their discussion. She’s selected a glass for herself; there are no plans on indulging, but it matches the atmosphere nonetheless.
“How has the start of the day been for you? Managed to hold someone’s attention for more than fifteen seconds?”
It wasn’t until they spotted Iris did Juniper realize how tense they had been traveling from one end of the festival to the drinking area. Trying to catch a breath they didn’t know they lost.
“Sorry to keep you waiting.”
Their report wasn’t anything the two of them hadn’t dealt with before, but Juniper avoided looking at Iris by putting an unnecessary amount of effort into locating their glasses. None of the topically named drinks on the menu gave an indication of what was in it, nor did the color of her drink tell them which one she had chosen, but all alcohol tasted the same.
“I’ve met a few people near the outdoor library, but it wasn’t anything serious.” From a distance, it was hard to tell if people actually read it before letting it fall to the ground. After spending days writing, rewriting, and printing letter until all the words on the page blurred together Juniper wanted to get out of there head. Now, they wondered if people laughed because they were nervous or because it was riddled with the errors they missed. “I might go back at the end of the day to take some stuff with us.”
They glanced at the pile beside her then turned away to accept their drink.
date: october 5th
place: the picnic tables
closed to @academiccomrade
food in hand, lyra scanned the area for an empty spot, trying to ignore the way people veered away from her as she walked toward the picnic tables. today was turning out to be rather nerve-wracking– not that she hadn’t expected it would, with this many people around, but lyra had still hoped she’d be able to enjoy herself somewhat. maybe it wasn’t too late.
she caught sight of juniper at one of the tables and hesitated for a moment, before plowing forward. the two of them had basically grown up together, sharing the same roof during those years when lyra and her mother had nowhere else to go. juniper used to be so important to her– they still were, damn it– but everything about the lives they each led now seemed to divide them. still, lyra felt she at least owed it to their friendship to try.
“hey,” she greeted tentatively, setting her food down across the table. “were you waiting for someone, or? i feel like it’s been a while since we caught up.”
Juniper promised they were okay before leaving home that morning, had meant it too, but now the adrenaline which helped them to stay up for long hours working on things for the rebellion was beginning to fade. When they were planning it out using the festival as a way to gain support without drawing too much attention to themselves sounded like a good idea, but besides a few people who took things from them absentmindedly then tossed on the floor Juniper struggled to get anyone’s attention. This wasn’t anything new, Juniper had referenced this exact problem in the letters they handed out, but the lack of someone take their place weighed on them as they propped up their head in their hands.
They stared up at Lyra in a delayed reaction. Of course, she would be there - Juniper didn’t think there was anyone in Metropolis who wasn’t - but her arrival was ill-timed to their mood especially when assumed there was an unspoken agreement between the two of them to avoid seeking each other out.
“No, I was just taking a break,” Juniper hurriedly placed letters into their jacket pocket to make space then gestured for her to sit down. “How are you? Enjoying the festival.”
Shakespeare was gay, you know. Do you think a straight man would write a line like “We defy augury”? Get real, James. My three-year-old gay niece knows Shakespeare was gay. So was Anne Hathaway. So was her cottage. So was Julius Caesar. So was Romeo and Juliet. So was Hamlet. So was King Lear. Every character Shakespeare wrote was gay. Except for Titus Andronicus. Titus was straight. Go figure.
date: october 5th
place: the outdoor library
closed to @academiccomrade
“I don’t know what the point of having a library out here is,” Angel mused, gaze briefly flickering up from the dusty copy of Brave New World to look at the other curly-haired person he found himself accompanying. “Not like most of us have time to sit down and read something like this.” He waved the book around carelessly before putting it back onto the shelf, now ready to give Juniper his full attention.
He’d seen them around Metropolis, of course - there weren’t many people he didn’t know, given both his work and his strange little power. But he’d never stopped long enough before today to actually know what Juniper did. Not that he was overly curious now.
“What’s that?” He asked anyway out of politeness, pointing at the stack of paper they were holding onto. “Writing a book yourself?”
Juniper had found a copy of Brave New World in a box someone had left in the street along with old magazines. They could never connect with dystopian fiction it neither reflected their reality nor felt foreboding as it did to people in 1931. A decade ago, Juniper would have loved something like this, but to some capacity Angel was right. People in District Three didn’t even have a formal education. Still, they hoped people from their District who would stop by — maybe they could come back later to take some to redistribute on another day.
There was a lingering thought in the back of Juniper’s mind that they had seen Angel before. If it was anywhere important it escaped their memory, but the way he talked to them suggested it hadn’t been. If their own demeanor wasn’t constantly misinterpreted by people, Juniper would have misread Angel’s politeness for condescension. He was so quick to dismiss literature what would he have said if the answer was yes.
Maybe he was being condescending, but the stack of papers in their hands were getting heavy and no one else had asked about it since they arrived.
Juniper held one out for him to take. “It’s a letter.”
“That moment around 3 in the morning when my eyes ache and my bones are vibrating because I’ve haven’t properly slept in days, but it’s okay because I finished whatever I was working on. It’s probably unhealthy to put all my self worth in my work, but my writing is my thoughts in its purest form.”
“Also, I’m really fucking good at it. Can I say that? The fact people won’t read it is what humbles me.”
MOONBEAM: do you like where you’re from?
“I have an obligation to it. It is the place I was born. It is the place that took my parents in when they had no where else to go. It is the place where all the people I love are. It has been the witness to all my first, has kept all my secrets, and never left me when I lost my way.
The most formidable experience of my life was an attempt to leave it behind. Everyone told me not to go to District Two, that it would make me hate my home to realize what it is not. I’ll admit it I did resent it for a moment. Except, it isn’t District Three’s fault I’ve grown up in poverty. Because that’s what everyone meant .They thought I would see that those in District Two and especially in District One aren’t drowning in debt, aren’t struggling to put food on the table in homes which might collapse at any second.
But really, what can I hold against District Three that isn’t a result of a system failing it? My home has never failed me.
Whether or not I like it is irrelevant. We know each too intimately to rid ourselves of the other.”
“Of course I do. I think we as a society treat love as something sacred and rare when there is much more to it than romance and mystery. Real love is not something that can be found, to think so is to imply the construction of love is perfect from inception. Love is work.
My parents and I have a complicated relationship but to see them struggle to keep me alive, to offer help to others when we could barely help ourselves, and claim I do not know what it means to be loved is an insult!
I have a home now because someone opened their door and heart to me as I have to her. Should I go to her and say I have unwavering faith in us, but I don’t love you? It would break my heart if she said it to me.
It is a rage that drives me but it is my love for my people when society would prefer I condemn them and myself which gets me out of bed. How can I cling to the idea of liberation and hope without believing in love?
God, I hate that word. Believe. It exists! It doesn’t need mine or anyone else’s validation. Even if I never felt it I couldn’t deny it. How could we be here if it wasn’t real? Were we all conceived from hatred!
Then there is romantic love which, despite accusation, I believe in too. I have been charmed. There are aspects of my identity I did not know existed until another person brought it out of me and lost it when they were gone. I have desired the company of an individual. I have desire to know someone would want me in a way they do not another person. I have yearned.
What no one talks about is that it’s equal parts laborious and effortless.
Love is something to be built. It is a communal act. I will not go through life searching for some fated One closing myself off to the transfer of ideas and changing definitions of what relationships could be and what is desired from them.
Does that answer your question?
SUNGLOW: what is your first memory?
“ugh, I hate thinking about this kind of thing. It’s not even something bad, it’s just so embarrassing to think of the stuff I did as I child....kids are so earnest. I think it was the time I made a genuine effort to justify A. that a rock looked like a now unidentifiable animal and B. it was not mean to claim it was my best friend now because I was mad at my actual best friend.
Juniper has had one (1) planner their entire life. The thing is falling a part at the seams; papers have fallen out and been stuffed back in and if they’ve written something on the back of a napkin it’s getting stuffed between the pages too. It’s also impossible to read, there are so many short phrases and random numbers they cannot remember the context for. But in between addresses and dates there are long random journal entries or quotes or whatever has come to mind in a moment. It’s almost entirely useless, but if they wanted they could trace a decade of their life in that planner.
TINMAN: what is your deepest wound, and do you still hurt from it?
The combination of fear and horror on their parents’ faces with they find out about juniper’s power: Your mother is afraid. She hoped your mutation would be something invisible. Something that would make your life easier than hers has been. There is nothing innocuous about being able to control people. Your father is repulsed. He wonders about all the people you’ve impacted with your powers the same way you’ve impacted him. He survived this long by clinging to the fact no matter what happens your family will always have a choice. It is the philosophy of District One to take that away from him. Now, it is apparently yours too. He sees his oppressors in your eyes and is repulsed that at this moment he hates you.
Their parents are mutants, they’ve grown up in a community where mutants are the majority, and there has been nothing but overwhelming support, but somehow their powers are a source for contention. It softened the blow they came around a little, but “It is so fatally easy to make young children believe that they are horrible.”(T.H. White)
ABSINTHE: what are your worst habits?
BABYDOLL: do you have any regrets?
BONES: when were you happiest?
CASPER: who do you think of most?
DINAH: what do you dream of?
EVE: what is the biggest sacrifice you’ve made?
GEMINI: what makes you laugh?
GOLIATH: what’s one thing you can’t live without?
HORUS: do you believe in love?
INKWELL: what makes you feel alive?
MARS: if you could change one thing about your past, what would it be?
MOONBEAM: do you like where you’re from?
NIGHTINGALE: do you have any hidden talents?
PSYCHE: who in your life do you trust the most?
RABBIT: what do you do in your spare time?
REAPER: someone offers you immortality - do you take it?
SUNGLOW: what is your first memory?
TINMAN: what is your deepest wound, and do you still hurt from it?
YOKAI: what is your biggest fear?
Nicknames (if any): J. (Jay) [ anyone who is not close with them / knows them through their work would only know them by their initials and they’re not forthcoming with their identity ]
Juniper can make anyone do anything they want by telling them to. Anyone who affected must be in earshot, and it wears off when either the command is fulfilled or they are no longer around. Certain actions happen in a hypnotic state while others happen in a conscious state but the person feels they have no control over their body. They can never cause victims to achieve what they are not capable of. I will express when their power is being used (accidentally or intentionally) with bold sentences
(BRIEF) HISTORY:
Born and raised in D3, Juniper’s family was always really community-oriented. They consider themselves raised by several people in the neighborhood who did anything from babysit them one time to helping their family not starve for a week. THEY ARE RIDE OR DIE FOR THEIR DISTRICT AND THEY WILL NOT LET ANYONE FORGET THAT
Juniper discovered their powers the first time they went to District Two when they were fourteen. The wealth gap is small in District Three so to realize not only is the gap larger, but society doesn’t view mutants as people were life-changing. The ability to persuade people stemmed from the strong desire for things that were never accessible before. The power can be really addictive so when they realize they can take things like food and other resources for their family they spent years just robbing people. (and manipulating their parents not to notice.) It wasn’t entirely noble they’ve definitely taken things from people they wanted more than they needed. (That last thing is important because now Juniper tries to divide their life into those two categories to disastrous effect.)
Once their parents found out, Juniper began to view their role in life to hold onto something which could be dangerous in someone else’s hands. They’ve told people their mutation is invisibility because it would be hard for anyone to disprove.
Although Juniper had become aware of the injustices happening in District Three, they still clung to this idea that somehow they were exempt/safe from certain things. Being physically assaulted by the authorities while helplessly watching their parents being arrested (they believe without cause) was sort of this wake up that the system really doesn’t care about anyone. The fact they were hit in the throat and physically couldn’t use their powers also contributed to the sense of helplessness and questioning if there will ever come a good use for them.
The rebellion is essentially Juniper’s entire life. It gives them a sense of direction they lost in the previous event. Most of their time is spent either working at the factory or attempting at community organizing. They hand out / leave pamphlets out every other Friday in different locations.
COMPLETE BIO
WANTED CONNECTIONS
HOME IS NOT A PLACE, IT’S A PEOPLE: Juniper’s family was pretty close to a lot of people in District Three. This can allow for general childhood friendships or familiarity with each other. People getting arrested in District Three is not new, but Watchers coming to get their parents was a semi-public affair. No one knows what it is except that treason was involved, and giving what Juniper is doing now it doesn’t make the best case for their parents’ innocence.
A GROUP WHICH BARELY MISSED BECOMING HISTORIC: People who are already a part of the rebellion. I would love to get into what ideas other people have for the direction they’d like to see it going, and what community organizing looks like. Some of these people might know Juniper’s name is, and when possibly committing to ride or die together you’d probably want to know who exactly you’ve put your trust in.
SUPPOSE THEY DID NOT ASK YOU TO STAND AGAINST ALL OF THE EVIL IN THE WORLD: People who are against the rebellion. That phrase in particular to mutants than humans, but in this letter Juniper does mention that human lives are also at stake. However, when Juniper argues they are not doing this for themselves, but for you, you might counter that you never asked them to do that. There are plenty of people whose lives are going well in the current system and the rebellion is just going to hurt the very people Juniper claims to care about.
WRITING IS A HOSTILE ACT: Someone who is on the brink of being persuaded in Juniper’s cause - as they have framed it in their writing - but once they come face to face with the writer it gives rise to hostility. The fact their conviction is admirable, but it also can be overwhelming. There’s a difference between someone making you change your mind about one or two things, but this is challenging people’s entire way of thinking, their entire lives, and that’s difficult enough without the feeling of conceding their entire identity to another person.
THE DETECTIVE: You just think it’s a little suspect for someone who is big on mutant rights Juniper never mentions what their powers are and grow more suspicious when they become confrontational about it when you try to find out. ( They’ll obviously find out eventually and their response is up to the mun, but for now, you don’t trust Juniper and the feeling is mutual.)
A SIREN’S CALL: People generally don’t remember if Juniper uses their powers on them. I would like a scenario where Juniper slips up a little bit. They talk about how some people just need to be nudged in the right direction, and it’s not harmful because they’re not forcing people to fight only to listen. However, they were too cautious about it, and you have the uncomfortable realization of realizing something or someone had just moved things around in their head.
WHY DIDN’T YOU STOP ME: You were the first person Juniper confided in about their powers and supported it for the same reasons they justified using it. (The fact you got to benefit from it is also an incentive.) Then one day Juniper just decided to put an end to it all, which might have been fine if they didn’t also blame you for not reining them in sooner. Now, you see Juniper preach about mutant rights all the while side-stepping what they can do. They try to ignore you, but deep down you both know what Juniper is actually capable of and that they can’t take the high road forever.
It is an impossible task to summarize the systemic oppression currently happening in District Three. I wouldn’t know where to begin. My neighbours don’t need their plight explained to them and if you do not know what’s happening it is because you do not want to know. There are a million ways to phrase it, but it would inevitably come down to apathy, ignorance, or some combination of the two. This might sound harsh but most definitive statements tend to.
I am not here to judge, I too am guilty of indifference when I should have cared.
In the past few months, I have attempted to see the totality of Metropolis. I have looked for the good in the bad and interrogated the positives until it revealed its corrupted core. I have written a short essay on the topic but there is a high chance you didn’t read it – many people couldn’t even look me in the eye. This is not about my ego, but an implementation of the thing which threatens any chance of change in Metropolis. We are all suffering, and none of us want to look at it. Once you see it, really see it, it is impossible not to see everywhere. But Reader you have to understand If you don’t look at it, you can’t change. We’ve got to look at it because if we don’t change it we’re going to DIE. Mutant. Human. We’re going to perish, every single one of us. Not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced.
To my fellow mutants. We are alive through vast determination and a good deal of hope. Now more than ever we must hold onto this. To anyone who feels alone, know that you are not. The chancellor will do anything to convince you that you are an outlier, but our numbers grow larger every day. To every mutant who has been made to feel afraid or disgusted by their abilities know we don’t exist to be palatable to humans. Your mutation connects you to a community and history far greater than anything you’ve been taught to aim for. Your mutation is merely one part of you not the whole of you. We’ll face many problems in life, but it does a disservice to make one of those fights with yourself.
To any human who is reading this, I have one question: what are you afraid of? You have many things to contend with, but let’s start there. A generation of people who have claimed to survive the decimation of an entire civilization with their humanity intact should never know fear again. Still, every human I pass on the street is filled with anxiety. I suppose if I was aware of the impending doom of my hubris I would be too.
And we shall call it hubris only because neither apathy nor ignorance could explain thinking you could build a city at the expense of an entire race without consequences.
You have made your feelings on me very clear, so let me make mine. I have a great amount of pity for the human race — as you have defined yourselves. All you know is to fear that which you are unprepared for and shall be consumed by it. My people have also seen the end of time and we are stronger for it.
I feel many things, fear will never be one of them.
If you have made it to the end, my thanks. My only request is, however, this letter makes you feel hold on to it.
The time for direct action is now!
If you have further questions may another one of these reach you shortly.
( Unless you’re a watcher. Alas, you are beyond help and wherever you go to find me I guarantee I’m long gone.)
annaxmalina
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