| Feb 3, 2014 0:28:42 GMT -5 |
Post by Deleted on Feb 3, 2014 0:28:42 GMT -5
Word Count: 1592
Tags: @mona (Open)
Notes:Sorry this is awkwardly long and weird. My muse is an odd ball
Since moving into the country of the country of Russia and abandoning his past, his home, difference from his homeland seemed to come in an onslaught. The rich land of his history and child home should have been nothing more than a memory. Russian life lacked the silent passion that radiated from the people of his home, his past. Passion for a fight didn’t seem to exist within the people allowing the government to rule unopposed by their own people.Mutants were creatures born to all countries, rare creatures always said to be riddled with flaws making them deemed not worthy of being believed to be human. Genes transforming, melding to create the powers granted upon the mutants. In order to address the issue countries tried to mimic the Russian school praised by scholars, Weeds of Tomorrow. Copies sprang to life around the world in hopes of making their country become the new central hope of the mutant trade. Riddled with flaws the school often fell before they could produce a mutant graduate to show if they were even to the standards of Weeds of Tomorrow. Humans didn’t seem to dispute the treatment provided by these schools to the mutants that were forced into.
During Gupta’s youth tales of the Russian’s eradication of the Freedom Fighters were taught by the schools. Each time the lessons were taught a lie seemed to be shared, claims of the Freedom Fighters being fools who wished to free the savages to be living alongside humans. Never being one to question his elders Gupta kept silent on the matter but the story didn’t seem like the truth to him. Research on the matter was quiet impossible as the government of Egypt even hid the information printed by those among the Freedom Fighters. History was written by the victors but that didn’t mean always the information on the other side vanished from the world. Burning the information would be seen as a waste of time for the government but it was in short supply in comparison to the information the government had school spout at them.
Most the past freedom fighters seemed to have been located in Russia making it difficult to locate even the smallest scripture from the original Freedom Fighters. During his youth all that the Egyptian was able to locate was the mission statement. Elegant text expressed the want to not only free the mutants but all of mankind from the influence of the government. Government scriptures damned them for trying to set loose what they claimed to be demons the original idea was to free all from the tight hold.
Secretly the idea spoke to Gupta as it was to allow everyone to become free thinkers. What was a world that no one had a mind of their own? It didn’t matter if someone believed in something he didn’t agree with, no it was more important that they be able to form their own ideals. The ideals didn’t even need to be voiced just as long as the people seemed to stop being sheep that followed anyone in power. Yes, Gupta himself followed the government but he was able to say that enslaving anyone was wrong and even could treat mutants with respect despite the government giving the mutants title of pets.
Even though the Freedom Fighters had been vanquished by the government still part of Gupta believed they opposed the Russian government even to this day but upon arriving to Archadia those hopes were dashed. The fight, if there even was one, seem to barely be heard of. It appeared that even their ideals had transformed to a weaker version of what they once were. The past fighters tried to start a revolution and change the world but today all the aim seemed to be was to free all the mutants or purchase them all. How the mighty Freedom Fighters were reduced to such status just made him scoff. If something matters enough isn’t it worth dying for?
Something with the Freedom Fighters that also got under his skin was there didn’t appear to be a leader, they all did as they pleased claiming their actions under the name of the Freedom Fighters. There didn’t appear to be anyone telling the freedom fighters how to acts or what to do. Without a spokesperson anyone claim to be a member and not even believe in the cause. What a foolish group, they wouldn’t be able to change anything at this rant.
These thoughts seemed to continue as Gupta tried to clean himself for the ball he has received an invitation to. Despite it having been an invitation the words inside seemed to inform him this wasn’t meant to be optional. Do not mistake this time as you being able to neglect your duties to the city. It seemed to be a threat that if someone didn’t show the government might see them as opposing them unless there was some medical reasoning to their absence. His disagreement with the running of the government wasn’t enough for the Egyptian to wish to have his life threatened or be deported from the snow covered country. Returning home wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen to him but Gupta felt something holding him to the Russian city. There was something for held him here, something that prevented him for searching for life without mutant slaves.
He shook his head trying to brush away these thought and focus on making himself presentable for the event his government required him to attend. There hadn’t been reason for Gupta to purchase any formal after his move to Russia, formal events weren’t often part of his normal routine or even something he wished to attend. Most of his money was spent on his hobby of dancing and providing new outfits for different events. It wasn’t often that Gupta spent money on anything else unnecessary, it was better to save and pamper the animals he had than spoil him himself with luxurious items that would hold little meaning in the next few years. With saving money he also insured that he would have money in times of crisis or when he was able to afford a mutant, these were more important than owning a suit he wouldn’t have much reason to wear.
Within the instructions for the ball it mentioned that men were required to wear white causing the search through his costumes to begin. Bright colors were often the choice for his costumes making Gupta worry if he would manage to find something white among the outfits and save himself from running to a store last minute to find something white for the ball. Perhaps this was something he should have checked into before the day of the ball. As the Egyptian was about to lose hope and feel his wallet hurt over something he’d never have reason to wear again his eyes caught sight of something white tucked into the back of his closet. The top of the outfit was lined with black ruffles and decorated with jewels. From the left side and forming two straps on each shoulder hung a mixture of white and silver beads the shimmered under the light. White pants hung alongside the top, matching ruffles made a row on the back, front, and outsides of the legs. Around the hanger was a mask white with the soft black ruffles lined the mask formed the pattern of a turret. He guessed he’d be the white rook since the party claimed not only the need more a mask but for it to match a chess piece.
Arriving at the ball Gupta felt a little embarrassed entering the ball, he couldn’t recognize most of the guests at the ball but he felt sure all knew who he was. His tanned skin and green eyes along with his outfit were a complete give away to who was behind the mask. Communicating wasn’t often uncomfortable for Gupta but unable to see expressions made by the other guests and know if he had met them before. Being able to still see the eyes of others was somewhat of a comfort, telling if someone was sincere was always easiest when making eye contact.
Guests arrived slowly all seeming to recognize someone amongst the crowd. Despite it being a ball most stood around chatting. Light chatter seemed to drown out most of the music but the beat could still be heard distantly through the crowd. Feeling the music his hips swayed a bit to the music trying to get the feel for the little music he managed to catch. Gupta’s small swaying hips stopped and he began to pop his hip out keeping the beat as his rolled his stomach. As the song continued his arms became part of the dance, raising up they slithered out to his sides and began to shimmy before being reeled back in and running down his body and back up. Dancing was always the best way to express himself leading Gupta to forget about the other guests in the surrounding area, the music had captured him in its grasp.
Music left Gupta blind to his own actions and how they might be perceived by others. Pale green eyes were half lidded in a mysterious sensual stare. His mouth parted ever so slightly and the corners of his lips turned up. Graceful steps appeared to make the Egyptian glide inhumanly across the dance floor. His body would almost come in contact with another before he’d stop and spin away.
