Deranged Teens: Disrupting the Celebration

New Years Eve couldn't have seemed any more new to our usually peaceful home. During one of our three attendance-required festivals of the year, a massive terrorist-fearful hysteria broke loose in floods of red.

During the final verse of Harriet Joneses beautiful New Years song, a burst of water began to flood the crowd from above. Soaking us all instantly. The sound system cut off, and all we could hear was the fear of something that has never been witnessed in our peaceful life.

."I was so scared, I thought blood was raining from the ceiling," stated little girl Joleta after the incident, who understandably will probably have nightmares about the event for many years to come. In an attempt to calm the crowd, Officer Grayson (as pictured above) led the crowd out of the auditorium. In his graceful attempt to calm everyone, he, and his followers, walked out onto the streets to find words and images painted onto the walls of the city buildings.

After hours of cleanup and hard work, Officer Grayson humbly agreed to an interview. "We have the lead culprit of tonight's catastrophe in custody, and we ask that if anyone has any information on anyone else involved to alert the police." When asked for further details about the culprits, Grayson obliged with, "There are a few teens, two or more, that are in grave need of mental health care, forming a gang and they are calling themselves 'Revolutionaries' ... if they remain without care, their deranged states-of-mind could put themselves and others in danger. Please help us help them."

Officers are working hard to clean up the town, and they say all the graffiti will be gone as of tomorrow. As for your now-dyed clothing?

."Throw it away," Grayson says sternly, "the only thing it will do is remind you of the sad teens, and their lost grip on reality."

Two Weeks and Two Days Ago

They met in the back alley, in the peak of the night, just as they were advised to do. Each holding their identical slips of paper, but each having very different feelings about the whole thing.

One was a public figure -- surely she'd be prosecuted for such "treason" -- but how disgusting is life if it is not free?

Another a closet artist. Hiding a secret treasured library, just wishing she could share it with everyone.

And last, the avenger. Wanting to avenge the lives of his parents, and be a leader of this new recruitment.

This was the final step, meeting each other and reading the mission, before taking a huge leap -- a leap that if caught, could be full of nasty consequences.

Two Weeks Ago

Xero was not as stupid as the Community clearly expected her to be. The wisest thing, of course, was always to be exactly what the Community expected you to be—whether it be patriotic, or unquestioningly obedient, or stupid. Xerograv was none of these things.

A week ago, reporting for work as usual at the central clothing factory, Xero had been surprised to receive notice that she'd been reassigned from sewing of mundane fabrics (into even more mundane attire) to dyeing of mundane fabric. As changes went, it was a perfectly boring one. Oddly, though, her reassignment notice directed her up to the seventh floor, when she knew that all the dyeing was done on the second floor. When she arrived, panting after seven flights of stairs, Xero couldn't quite contain her shock at finding the head of the factory himself addressing her and a group of other reassigned workers.

It wasn't the same-old speech to acquaint workers with their new job.

Well, that was the first part. Then the head had informed them, in a tone of voice that mixed threat with paternal concern, that for the security of the Community, their new work was to be kept silent. To outsiders, they were only to tell that a new Dyeing Unit had been created to handle all the fabric coming in. If they disclosed any other information, they would have to be severely disciplined.

Of course, that seized Xero's interest. She was almost sorry that there was no mind-bending riddle to solve, no hidden secret to uncover. It was as obvious as the sky was blue—

Their dyed fabric would change colors if a drop of water touched it.

None of the other workers dwelt on it—some because they just didn't care, others because they were clearly terrified of what might happen to them if they were too curious (in other words, treasonous). Xero pretended to go about her job just as mindlessly as ever—and the work was simple enough; but she couldn't blind herself, as everyone else seemed to be able to do so easily, to the amazing, almost magical dye. It could be used for much more interesting things than camouflaging the patrols, which she had picked up by some careful listening.

She had spent the past two days thinking of what she could possibly contribute to the Resistance and this mission that was handed to her, Taysee, and Marcel; that when she sat mindlessly at work, dyeing the fabric of the patrol officers, a little bit of chemistry sparked a massive idea.

She had to be careful. Sneaking a batch of the chemical home was one thing, working on the chemical to make it do the desired effect was another, but sneaking the stuff back in -- that proved difficult.

It was the start of lunch break, the best time; if you weren't in the meal room—-like Xero wasn't—-then you wouldn't get lunch. Still, on the off chance that she ran into someone, she didn't have any good explanation for why she was sneaking around carrying a container of seemingly-clear dye that, as far as most were concerned, wasn't supposed to exist.

From her work, Xero had figured out that the dye would be invisible unless the fabric became wet, when a different colour would appear. The original formulas that she worked with daily, changed fabrics to darker and duller colours; however, with a little help from a few household cleaning chemicals, and restless nights, Xero had figured out a way to make the change more dramatic--red. The dye was also extremely potent; a single drop was more than enough to dye an entire shirt. Moving as quickly and quietly as she could, Xero crept down to the Dyeing Unit on the second floor, and emptied the entire container into the huge tank of brown dye. She let out a deep—quiet—breath when it was all done.

A mere three days later, in a stroke of luck she couldn't have hoped for, Xero was moved back to her old sewing job. From what she gathered, there had been a good deal of bureaucratic misdirection, so that even some top government officials hadn't known what was going on. The moment they found out, they put a stop to the whole thing. The dyes were to be destroyed and the records burned, as if the research had never existed—the same way the Community always dealt with its problems.

January 1st, 2012 — 10:00 AM

The curtains swept apart, leaving Taysee standing alone center stage. The sea of people before her burst into applause—not for her, but for "Harriet", who had a beautiful voice and a harmless mind. She pasted a serene smile on her face and swept her gaze over the crowd, meeting eyes here and there, as if she were looking directly at everyone; they were all dressed exactly like, in the newly-issued Community uniforms everyone was required to wear to festivals.

Greys and browns, just as Je had written. Her smile widened and became real. They would change that.

Almost in a choreographed dance, Taysee clasped her hands together and modestly bowed, acknowledging their applause. Then she took the microphone from the stand and, raising it to her mouth and fixing her eyes on some point off in the distance, began to sing the first notes of the Community anthem.

Across the mud-brown sea of people, hands raised in unison to rest over their hearts; Taysee wondered how much of it was real, and how much was automatic. Some had tears streaming down their faces—no denying their true loyalty—and she had to keep the contempt from her voice. As the final note rang out, the crowd burst into thunderous applause, stretching on much longer than it should have as everyone fought to be the last one clapping.

How ridiculous. Taysee gave another bow, and stepped back to pretend to enjoy the festival.

Speech followed patriotic speech across the stage. Awards were handed out, with more speeches; names were drawn in a free raffle and prizes given away. See how generous the Community is, how caring. Most sickening was when a chorus of first-graders took the stage and, in their young, innocent, sincere voices, sang the Song of Good Citizenship—citizenship, as in being a walking machine. Outside the walls of the festival hall, the sun began to dip toward the horizon. It was drawing near the time for her to sing the song to welcome the new year, closing the festival.

Where was Xero? Was she ready?

Taysee took the stage a second time, this time to more tired applause. Bringing the microphone to her mouth, her hand trembled once—from nerves, not fear—and she began to sing. However preoccupied she was, the words of the song came out easily, and so did the signal.

...a new year, grander than ever before...

The sprinklers went off (Xero must have done it) as the last syllable left her mouth, soaking her along with everyone else. Taysee didn't have to fake a gasp at the sudden shock of the cold water. She watched in fascination—outwardly, horror—as dull brown was transformed into an expanse of vibrant, moving red; many were rubbing frantically at their clothing, as if the color were a layer of dirt that they could wipe away.

Wishing she could stay to savor the moment but knowing that it would be utter stupidity, Taysee stumbled backward, whirling around just as the Community Leader was striding onstage to claim the microphone. She handed it off to him with a show of relief, making sure as she fled the stage to step over and on the microphone cord, grinding down extra hard with the small blade attached to the heel of her right shoe.

The crowd hushed and stilled as the Leader took the stage. Amidst the chaos, he still managed to project calm, as if he were prepared for anything—anything but his reassurances, instead of booming across the hall, coming out quite tinny and small without being artificially amplified. His composure shattered and repaired itself; he rapped the microphone several times, which made no sound.

Before he could decide on his next move, a different voice boomed across the hall, coming not from the stage up front but the very back near the doors. Only Taysee and Xero—who had hit Play—recognized it as Marcel's, recorded and projected through their own speaker.

."Greetings, current and future Revolutionaries...".

."...Our world is a place that has been taken over by tyrants, tyrants whose goal is to squash any ounce of free will and creativity from their people in order to make us docile. The Revolution is coming though, and we are its precursors, here to say that we won't stand for it any longer! Be ready for big things my friends, big and wonderful things.".

As he heard his voice coming from the concert hall, Marcel's mind was racing, it had been racing the entire day, if they failed, he could be responsible for the capture of his new friends, and the failure of the Revolution, and without the Revolution, he would have nothing left. So far, everything had been going according to plan, but it wasn't over yet, his grand piece of this mission was still yet to be displayed. His message playing meant that it was time to finish up his part, a large scale mural on a building outside the concert hall.

He had a few helpers that he had already sent on their way, and now he was quickly making his way onto street level in order to try to act natural. At this point, he was good at blending in, which was fortunate, seeing as people began to pour out of the concert hall about as soon as he was ready.

In front of them lay the mural, a powerful message scrawled on the side of a building, "Star light, star bright, the Revolution is here to fight." He found it was apt, a way of telling the Community that they were here, and ready to change things. The street soon became packed with the concert-goers, whose clothes had been dyed red thanks to Xero's part of the plan, it looked brilliant. Marcel tried not to look so pleased as he watched the crowd look around confusedly, messages of Revolution swimming about in their heads. Not surprisingly, the Community police began trying to round people up, "Nothing to see here, just a bunch of troublemakers, a big prank…" they were saying, but Marcel could tell that he Xero, and Taysee had started the wheels of independent thought and revolution in their minds.

Amid the chaos he had helped to create, Marcel smiled to himself, and breathed a sigh of relief. He had been quite doubtful of his leadership skills up until that point, but now that the deed was done, and each of his friends were safe, he could breathe easy and begin to get excited for what Je and the others would think of what they had done. They certainly broke up the monotony in the dismal city. After surveying the aftermath for long enough, he snuck off away from the scene, it was time to meet up with his allies and new friends in order to congratulate them on a successful first mission... the Community was going to have fun covering this one up, and he was positive that they wouldn't fully be able to, meaning a job well done.

So, besides the massive coverup by the Community, and all the supposed "nightmares" that anyone with the slightest inkling of a desire for freedom can tell you is baloney, quite a few things resulted from this "painting of the town red". All along when Marcel thought he was testing Xero and Tay? Je was really testing Marcel. He wanted to see how Marcel would act under the pressure of the act, but also with the responsibility of recruiting others to The Resistance.

Xerograv, Taysee, and Marcel became friends through their gutsy act. Taysee and Xero joined Marcel, although still considered "rookies", as respected members of The Resistance.

The dye? No one ever traced it back to Xero. Afterall, it wasn't ever supposed to have existed.

Oh, and the act itself? It got its message across.

The Resistance is here, and in no small numbers.

Story and artwork created by Provie, Auro, and Sika.

Auro wrote both Taysee's and Xero's segments in the "What Really Happened" section, and Provie wrote Marcel's section, with minor edits and added stuff by Sika.

Sika drew the first newspaper image and the sprinkler. Auro drew the picture of Taysee singing. Provie drew the comic and the graffiti images.

Layout by Sika, with parts of stolen coding from Thatkillsme.

Whole page edited together by Sika

The community, and awesome world plotness, by the most awesomest Revolution