Post by James "Mustang" Morrison on Sept 16, 2009 2:41:16 GMT -5
Three days ago...
Whak! Whak! Whak!
A young man of thirteen years tacked up a flyer on a lamppost. It read thusly:
Earlier Today...
City hall staffers ran around between offices, confirming this small detail or the other with any number of people. Most of which were entirely unconcerned with this small detail, as their detail was all the more pressing. Security was briefing everyone on last minute details. Most of this was barely acknowledged as the ones being briefed were so concerned with their own problems.
In the meanwhile, Mayor James Mustang mentally prepared himself for the upcoming town meeting, now only a few hours away. He told himself he could do this. It was all his idea. He knew what he would say. Knew how to answer most any question that might come up. The most important thing was to not come off as some bullshit politician. He wasn't. He hadn't even campaigned.
He appraised him self in a full length mirror. Black suit, white shirt, black tie, loose fit. Just as he liked. He debated on the coat. If he was attacked today, he'd need it. But it looked slightly unprofessional. But most people around town had only ever seen him with it on. Fuck it, he was wearing it. It added that certain non-bullshit politician touch he needed that the suit alone couldn't provide.
That was that then. Only a couple of hours to go. Might as well make sure the others were prepared as well. He took a deep breath.
He could do this.
Now.
So here it was. The moment they'd been getting ready for for weeks. They were seated behind a long table, the three of them. Jim in the middle, Alex and Miles on his left and right respectively. Alex wore a suit as he was Deputy Mayor, and he wore it better than James. But that was his usual mode of dress, so he knew how to compose himself. Miles was in a green business shirt, untucked, his grandfather's RAF jacket, jeans and boots. He had his arms crossed and looked supremely grumpy and uncomfortable at being there. In front of the three men were a pitcher of water each, as well as a single glass.
James spoke to the security chief across the giant meeting hall (which was bigger on the inside than without), "Let them in." As the masses came pouring in, Jim's only thought was:
Merlin's beard, what have I done?
Whak! Whak! Whak!
A young man of thirteen years tacked up a flyer on a lamppost. It read thusly:
This coming Wednesday, your Mayor, James Mustang, will be holding Drakborough's first Town Hall Meeting. This will give the average citizen an open forum in which to voice their opinions and grievances and shall learn just what the current administration is doing to ensure a better future for you and your family.
All are Welcome!
Drakborough City Hall, Wednesday, 7pm
All are Welcome!
Drakborough City Hall, Wednesday, 7pm
Earlier Today...
City hall staffers ran around between offices, confirming this small detail or the other with any number of people. Most of which were entirely unconcerned with this small detail, as their detail was all the more pressing. Security was briefing everyone on last minute details. Most of this was barely acknowledged as the ones being briefed were so concerned with their own problems.
In the meanwhile, Mayor James Mustang mentally prepared himself for the upcoming town meeting, now only a few hours away. He told himself he could do this. It was all his idea. He knew what he would say. Knew how to answer most any question that might come up. The most important thing was to not come off as some bullshit politician. He wasn't. He hadn't even campaigned.
He appraised him self in a full length mirror. Black suit, white shirt, black tie, loose fit. Just as he liked. He debated on the coat. If he was attacked today, he'd need it. But it looked slightly unprofessional. But most people around town had only ever seen him with it on. Fuck it, he was wearing it. It added that certain non-bullshit politician touch he needed that the suit alone couldn't provide.
That was that then. Only a couple of hours to go. Might as well make sure the others were prepared as well. He took a deep breath.
He could do this.
Now.
So here it was. The moment they'd been getting ready for for weeks. They were seated behind a long table, the three of them. Jim in the middle, Alex and Miles on his left and right respectively. Alex wore a suit as he was Deputy Mayor, and he wore it better than James. But that was his usual mode of dress, so he knew how to compose himself. Miles was in a green business shirt, untucked, his grandfather's RAF jacket, jeans and boots. He had his arms crossed and looked supremely grumpy and uncomfortable at being there. In front of the three men were a pitcher of water each, as well as a single glass.
James spoke to the security chief across the giant meeting hall (which was bigger on the inside than without), "Let them in." As the masses came pouring in, Jim's only thought was:
Merlin's beard, what have I done?