2075: Reclaiming North America

((How old is David? How long has he had this job? Also, what's his last name? Also also, the intention is that he's the head of the military and the police force? That's my understanding of what you wrote =D. But how often do you think he's at the mansion? Is that where he operates out of?))

Carter did not wake Elodie up the next morning before he went downstairs, for which she was grateful when she did wake up. Around 9 AM, Elodie opened her eyes, to notice her husband gone, and his side of the bed was no longer warm. She missed him at that moment, but was grateful that he had allowed her to sleep. She hadn't slept very much in a long while. Elodie pushed the sheets off of herself, stepping off of the bed and moving to the shower, where she scrubbed herself to remove their hardened fluids from the night before. She washed her hair, the mass of curls annoying her. Quickly, she finished, stepping onto the rug and wrapping herself in a fluffy white towel. Elodie brushed out her long red hair, before blow-drying it until it fell straight. A hand-shaped bruise had formed at her jawline where Carter had squeezed the night before, and Elodie blinked harshly when she saw it. She did her best to cover it with makeup, but, then, her complexion was so white that the mark would still be visible to anyone who gave her more than a cursory glance. Elodie stepped into a conservative navy-blue dress, and then she sat back on the bed, holding her head in her hands. For a moment, Elodie could not stop the tears that fell, but she only allowed herself to cry for a minute. She wiped the tears away, and then she stepped out, reminding herself that she needed to talk to their daughter.


Mirette awoke around nine, and quickly dressed. She made her bed, placing everything along the top neatly, and then she left her room, heading downstairs for the dining room. Halfway there, she squeezed her eyes shut. She just. She didn't want to. She turned back for her room, once more, hopping on to her bed. Mirette swung her door closed once she arrived upstairs, but the handle didn't turn all the way and so the door remained slightly open. But Mirette didn't notice--she was preoccupied. Mirette punched her bed post in frustration before collapsing on her bed, finally allowing all of the tears she'd kept in, as well as those she'd just caused out of pain, to fall. She couldn't keep them in any longer, and she didn't need to now that her door--she thought--was closed. Her hand stung, and she held it tightly to her chest, crying heavily now. She just...couldn't.

Elodie heard not only the harsh thud, but also her daughters sobs. She quickly walked to her Mirette's room, ignoring the guards who, to anyone paying attention, very clearly took note of what was going on. Elodie delicately pushed the door open. "...Mirette?" She closed the door behind her, before rushing to her daughters side and sitting on the bed next to her, pulling the girl into her and tenderly taking her hand. "What happened?" Mirette's eyes widened when her mother came in to the room, but quickly melted into her, crying heavily into her mother now. "I-I...I h-hit the bed accidentally, a-and I h-hurt my arm..." The lie was alarmingly easy to tell, she thought, but she didn't care.

((This is after Anne leaves. Anne is already gone when Elodie goes to talk to her. On that note. How does David help her escape if he doesn't have direct authority over the guards, to tell them to turn, where to go, blah blah blah? Do you think they might fall under his jurisdiction, too?))
 
David stared on as Anne collected things and put them into a bag. "Let me hold that stuff, it will throw off suspicion." Anne looked at him confused, but soon nodded. When she handed him the bag, she wrapped her arms around him. "David," she whispered, "Thank you." David looked down at her and couldn't help feel disgusted that Carter drove a daughter to this point. They two walked out of the room and headed towards the staircase. The guards in the hall gave puzzled looks, one even stopped to question. "I have authority from President Carter to transport her to his office. No doubt you know who I am." The guard looked on, then finally allowed them from the hallway. They made their way to a door that let to the courtyard behind the mansion. He pulled her over to the door and began whispering quickly. "Ok, take your bag and when I open this door, run. Ok, you need to run as far as you can. Do not stop for anything. I will cover for you. Good luck Anne, I hope to see you again in life." Anne was shaking but soon gripped her bag, slinging it over her shoulder. She went up on her toes and placed a sweet kiss on David's cheek. "I will not forget this." Anne whispered. David smiled and opened the door, making sure no one was around. Anne started off, running as fast as she could. David did not leave until she was but a spec in the distance.

Carter was not a dull minded man. David would really have to convince him. First, he took out his gun and hid it in a vase in the house. He then took a deep breathe and pulled out his combat knife. David lifted it above him and with a solid strike impaled himself in the arm, making sure not to injure anything vital. He held any urge to yell and instead quickly made his way to Carter's office. He busted in and Carter stood up. "What the hell, David? What happened?" David fell to one knee. "Your daughter, I was walking her down and she pulled out my knife, stabbed me in the arm. As I fell she stole my gun as well. She threatened to shoot me should I follow her." Carter's face turned red. "That little....alert the guards...start a hunt. Get this man medical attention!" A standby nurse soon stepped in, followed by James, Carter's right hand man and Chief of Staff. David looked at James but made it brief. The nurse came to David's side and started treated the knife wound. "Sir, I am not saying this from anger, but I think you should let the girl leave. Let her suffer out in the world. It will make her learn to love you, to respect you. Shake any rebellion she had in her out. No more lies." Carter looked at him, and it appeared he was actually considering it. "James," Carter said directing his stare at him, "What do you think?"
 
James drove up to the house, his son Jay in the passenger's seat. As they started to pull up to the driveway, Anne ran out of the house, and James rolled his eyes, watching her. "I'll never understand that girl," he muttered, more to himself. James looked over at his son, but said nothing to him as James put the car into park and stepped out. Jay would come inside when it dawned on him that that might be a useful thing to do.

The front door opened, and an attractive man who looked perhaps a bit younger than his age of forty-one stepped inside. Noticing what he considered an unnatural calm for the household, James knit his brow slightly, setting his briefcase on the counter and he walked further into the house, allowing the door to lazily close behind him as he went to Carter's office.

After entering the room, James placed his briefcase on a chair in the corner. He tilted his head to the side slightly, walking up to the other two men, one of which was bleeding profusely from the arm. James had presumably gone inside the office just a few moments too late. There was something going on, and James couldn't read minds. Someone needed to fill him in, and it needed to happen relatively soon.

What happened this time, and who are we killing because of it, he thought.He had been joking about the last part. Kind of.

He quickly picked up on the situation. A battered seventeen year old escaped what's supposed to be the finest guarding force in North America?

It would appear that James wasn't the only one here who didn't give a shit.

It wasn't like Anne's absence would hinder James all that much. James was inclined to agree with David on this one.

"I know what you're thinking, Mr. President, but David might be right on this one. Anne's given you ridiculous amounts of trouble for how long now? Six or seven years?" He raised an eyebrow. "From what David said, Anne's behavior earlier overstepped even her own previous boundary of disobedience. Sir, she's not going to let up. This all happened before I arrived, but I'm sure the punishment you had planned for Anne was worse than anything you've done to her in the past. I think that David's right. Being out on her own will be a reality check for Anne. If it's enough of one, she'll come home, and you'll have broken her. And if not, you won't have to worry about her again."

((Putting a pause into Mirette and Elodie for a minute =D. I need James to get out of here first.))
 
David stared at James, mentally sighing in relief that James had vouched for him. Once the wound was cleaned and bandaged, David stood up and watched as the nurse left, soon turning his attention on Carter again. "Sir, if will have me gather a portion of my forces I will tail her." "No, no that won't be needed." Carter said as he approached the two men. "You are correct in your words, both of you. I will let Anne free. Surely she will be back soon." Carter turned to David. "Go home, I apologize for what has occurred. You can take this day off. I need to discuss something with James here. If we may?" David stared at the two and nodded before leaving his office. As he walked down the hall to the main room where the exit was he saw James's son standing by the stair case to the second floor. He was looking around at all the art and sculptures. Jay soon noticed David and made a weird face. "Are you alright David?" He asked him. David smiled. "Yeah, I'm fine. You take it easy kid." Jay smirked at that. They weren't too far apart in age, but David was nonetheless an elder.


(I decided to switch David to like 28-30? Jay will be 21. Sound good?)
 
"She will, undoubtedly," James agreed, firmly. "So we're in agreement." He smiled at Carter. "Sir, this is not your fault. Anne is an insolent child, and her immaturity drove her to dissent you here. Let her learn the lesson. Or let her to not."

Once David left, James took a few steps forward, standing closer Carter now. "It might be best to fake a search party. Not only for image's sake, but also for Elodie's sake. I hardly think she'll be served well through knowledge of our conclusion here. I can call Sera in, have her call a press conference." Sera Dupont, the press secretary.

James put on a slight frown, as he realized how this could be manipulated for another of his goals. "And perhaps it would be good to get Elodie out and involved in something. Staying here and thinking about Anne won't serve her very well, sir. "We've delayed many projects over the past few months, Mr. President. A few in particular come to mind, but perhaps you have a better idea. The first thing that I think of was that idea you had to establish an educational infrastructure in town. We can ensure proper thought amongst our officials when they're in the workplace, but if anyone defied us while in the privacy of his or her home...well, we'd never know. If you'll recall, we spoke about the socialization aspect of school in stopping improper thought spread to children from their parents. Why not move forward on those projects, at least in this city where it matters. Elodie worked towards education and linguistics degree before the war, right? Of all of us, she'd probably have the best ideas on how to structure a school to most efficiently teach children our messages. She's the smartest of all of us, if nothing's changed from college."

((Yeah, that's perfect. Elodie's 38.))
 
Carter took his seat back by his desk. "Very wise, James. Very wise indeed. No doubt Elodie will fret over the loss of our daughter, for now at least. Not only will it allow her mind to drift from Anne, but she can be the head instructor if we build this infrastructure." Carter then stood up and stared out the back window. "It is important that children know what we want them to. More importantly, we can not have any one child grow up following Anne's footsteps. We need no rebellion. It is for the weak and dammit this nation is not weak! We will grow stronger than ever before. It is settled. New educational facilities will be built. My wife will run the overall maintenance. You are right James, Elodie has an education far beyond ours, however she is weak to some morality, however. We will compose the lesson plans and small details to ensure what I want taught, will be enforced." Carter turned now, back to James. "I will sign this new order into effect."

Carter now looked down at a picture of his family. "About Anne now, bring Sera in. We will broadcast a message to ensure the people that Anne is being searched for. The sooner we get her attention off our minds, the better. It will be a bright future James. I already can tell."
 
James nodded. "Yes, sir. I will call Sera immediately." He rose, waiting for Carter's permission before he left the office, closing the door behind him.


Elodie hugged Mirette to herself tightly, petting her hair down. "Shhh..." she whispered, before loosening her grip on her daughter and gently taking hold of Mirette's wrist. Mirette meowed in pain slightly when her mother touched her wrist. Elodie shushed her soothingly again, tutting as she examined the wound. "It's not broken, Mirette, it's just a sprain. I know it hurts, but it'll be okay," she told her, smiling gently down at her daughter. She gently placed Mirette's hand into her lap. "I'll be right back."

And Elodie kissed Mirette on the forehead gently, before rubbing the girls' knee and going for the door. She went to the bathroom within the master bedroom, picking through the cabinets in search of a bandage with which to wrap Mirette's wrist, but none were there. Elodie sighed, power walking down the stairs to go through one of their supply rooms.

"Elodie," James greeted her with a wide grin as she left the final stair. He frowned when she gave him a nod, but kept walking--such a 'welcome' wasn't quite normal for her. "Ellie," James repeated, placing a hand on her shoulder and turning her to him. "Is everything all right?"

Elodie turned to James in surprise. "I...yes, yes, it's fine. I'm just trying to find something to wrap Mirette's hand with. She's got a bit of a sprain."

"What happened?"

"I don't know," Elodie said, quickly, "She says she was being clumsy, and hit her bedpost accidentally. Look, James, it's not a big deal, but I'd rather get it wrapped and give her some pain meds, and then we can talk, all right?" Elodie smiled slightly. "Sorry."

"No," James said. "You're absolutely right. I'm sorry."

Elodie nodded, a good natured smile still on her face.

"You know," James said, as Elodie went for the back rooms again. "You don't have to do that. Jay's stalling outside, but we could grab him and make him do his job."

Elodie waved a hand. "That's very unnecessary. It'll just take a second."

James shrugged. "All right. Whatever works."

Elodie nodded one final time before opening the door and going inside the storage room.

James left his briefcase in place and walked authoritatively up the staircase, nodding gruffly at the guards he saw standing post. He went into the master bedroom, taking a bottle of ibuprofen out of the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. He filled a cup of water with the tap and next went for Mirette's, knocking slightly before letting himself in, grinning warmly at the girl. "Hey," he said, holding up the medicine. "Your mother mentioned you got hurt. I thought I'd offer my services."

Mirette had been laying on her back on the bed, but now slowly sat up, her long red hair falling over her shoulder as she reached up and wiped off some of her tears. "Thanks," she whispered.

James' brow knit as he slowly approached Mirette, sitting on her bed next to her. God, she looked so vulnerable. So ready for the taking. "What's wrong, hun?"

"Oh, n-nothing, I was just...being careless, and...and I hit my arm," she said, holding it up to show him.

James stared at her silently for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, your mom told me," he repeated.

"So," he started, opening the pill bottle. "Your mom will be up in a minute with a bandage, but we can start here. You weigh...what?" He took this opportunity to look over her slightly. "115 pounds?"

Mirette shook her head. "105. Close enough, I guess."

Damn. "Yeah, that won't make a difference here," James said. It also wasn't healthy. He handed her a pill and the water. "Take the one for now. If you need another, ask your mother."

Mirette took the pill almost immediately, a small, grateful smile on her face now. "Thank you, Mr. Arceneau," she said.

James smiled, petting her hair softly. "Any time."

Mirette bit her lip slightly, running a hand through her hair. Her hand touched his for a moment, accidentally--or maybe intentionally--forcing it off of her head.

James stared at Mirette for another moment, before standing from the bed. "Bye, hun."

Mirette didn't reply, except to wave, and the door opened to let Elodie in with the bandage.

James turned to Elodie. "I gave her an ibuprofen," he said. "She seemed to be in a lot of pain, like you were saying. He put the bottle on Mirette's desk. "In case you want to give her another," he said.
 
(Damn he is creepy, I love it!)

Anne had been running for what seemed like a year before she collapsed by this time she was in tears and was very heavy on breathe. She tried to stand but her ankles shook and so she sat on the ground, wrapped up in herself. Where would she go? Who would take the president's daughter in? She managed to reach an abandoned building, or so she thought, and rest by the door. If anything about that mansion made her cry, it was Mirette and Elodie. She missed them already and couldn't imagine living without them. She couldn't be weak from that. She was in the real world now. There were crazies everywhere and a nineteen year old girl was simply fresh meat. The idea horrified Anne and she hoped someone would save her.

Carter waited for James to return with Sera. The sooner they could get this live, the better.

Jay's impatience was growing heavy, he had now entered the mansion. He looked around for his father but only saw the station guards. He heard his father's voice upstairs. He could see enough that it was at Mirette's room. Jay cringed. It was one thing for him to be already hating his father, but James to be at Mirette's room made Jay furious. Jay had such feelings for her. She was beautiful, quiet, and innocent. He wanted so dearly to talk to her.
 
Elodie looked at James silently for a moment. She wanted to say something about his medicating her daughter without Elodie's permission, but decided not to. James had been a family friend since before the girls were born. He'd watched them grow. Elodie was sure the action had been for Mirette's best interests, and simply well-meaning.

"Thank you, James," she told him. "I think I can take it from here," she joked, grinning at him, looking down to unwrap the bandage.

James nodded. "I'm glad I could help, Mirette," he said, winking at her quickly when Elodie turned her head down. "Bye, Elodie." James turned, leaving the bedroom and closing the door behind him before downstairs for Marcus' office.

Elodie looked up at her daughter, taking her wrist delicately to secure it in the bandage. "That was nice of James to help you, huh," she said, primarily to gage Mirette's reaction and be sure James' intention was as she suspected.

Mirette thought for a minute, before nodding. "Yeah. The pain's already starting to go away."

Elodie laughed. "That's only because you're thinking about the meds. It'll take twenty minutes or so for it to really work." Elodie placed Mirette's hand delicately into the girl's lap. She smiled at Mirette. "I love you," she told her, pulling the girl into a hug.

Mirette held on to her mother securely, resting her head on Elodie's shoulder. "I love you too, mommy," she whispered.

Elodie bit her lip, laying Mirette down and rising from the bed. "Why don't you take a nap? You didn't get a lot of sleep last night."

Mirette nodded hesitantly. "It was just one of those nights, you know? I had trouble falling asleep."

"Do you want me to turn out the lights?"

"No, it's okay. I'll do it myself in a minute. I want to get changed first."

Elodie nodded. "I love you, Mirette," she repeated.

"I love you too."

Elodie smiled lightly at her daughter before taking the bottle of pills and leaving her daughter's bedroom, closing the door behind her.

Mirette stayed still on her bed for a minute, biting her lip before running a hand through her hair and going for her armoire. She changed into the same silk nightgown from the night before, turned her light out, and went back under her covers. She pulled them up to her chin securely, slowly flipping onto her side and staring at her wall. She couldn't stop thinking about the way James Arceneau had treated her. It just...seemed to represent a significant shift of the usual distance he kept from her, and the way he spoke to her when the need arose--like an adult speaking to a child. He had never, ever called her anything other than her first name. And he'd never touched her hair like that. Nor looked at her so intently. Mirette shook her head slightly. She was being stupid. There was no reason for her to doubt her father's most trusted friend. Especially not when her mother hadn't seemed to think anything of it. Suddenly, Mirette felt ashamed to doubt Arceneau when all he'd done was act like an adult figure and give her pain medication she'd needed anyway. But as much as Mirette tried to convince herself, she couldn't stop doubting him, and she couldn't fall asleep.


Weston Turner twisted closed the top of his makeshift canteen, sighing slightly as he shook the container. The little amount of freshwater he'd been able to acquire today would have to suffice. Weston rolled his eyes slightly. He always tried to tell himself that he acted ridiculously when he did this--some people had trouble getting any water at all. But he didn't think he was being at all out of line given the fact that some people in this society acted and lived like Weston and those like him didn't even exist. What did it mean for Canada--or North America, as Weston sarcastically reminded himself--when Weston should consider himself lucky to have a single cup of water a day? Weston often thought about his status, compared with those of his late parents--or he thought them dead. He didn't like to think that they might be alive and tortured as political prisoners--and his great great grandfather, who had served in Canada's highest office almost a hundred years previously. The Turner family had always been political.

Despite the thought suppression that 'President' Torren aimed for, Weston never stopped thinking about the way the country functioned. How few people truly got the justice they deserved.

And as Weston reached the tree where he'd maintained a living place of sorts, he first noticed the brunette reclined, and second noticed how different her clothing appeared from 'his kind'. How clean she was, and how generally well kept she seemed. There was definitely something interesting going on with her. He approached the girl, tapping her shoulder lightly, to get her attention. "You...don't quite look like you belong here," he said, bluntly.


James descended the stairs, grinning at his son as he spotted Jay. He didn't say anything to him, and took out his cell phone, dialing before placing it to his head. "Sera. We need you to come in. There's been a situation."
 
Jay looked on at his father as he made the call. A situation? He wouldn't ask his father what that exactly meant, because he knew James wouldn't tell him. Jay just seemed to be a lackey, nothing more than a servant to everyone. He noticed Elodie walking down the stairs. James had gone back to Carter's office so it was just the two of them. "Mrs. Torren," Jay said as he walked a few steps closer to her, "Is Mirette alright? You were in her room and, well the pills?" Jay couldn't help but appear distressed about his secret crush. He hoped all was well for her.

Anne jumped and yelped at the feeling of a hand on her shoulder. She scooted backwards several feet. "Don't hurt me! I-I am from here! I live her!" The lie was horribly played out, and she looked into the man's eyes in fear. Her light blue dress was filthy from the ground at this point, yet it still showed she was of a higher fashion. "I don't mean any harm. I will leave if I am trespassing. Just please...don't hurt me." Anne couldn't bare any more abuse. It was the reason she left Torren Mansion in the first place. The man did not seem aggressive, Anne thought, but anything could happen out in the war torn streets.
 
Elodie stayed at the top of the staircase, and noticed Jay approaching, his expression full of concern. She smiled as he asked about her daughter. "Hello, Jay. Mirette is all right. She hurt her wrist, she'll be okay. Thank you for asking. She's just in her room. I think she's laying down." She nodded at him once more, but turned, heading for the Master bedroom.

She closed the door behind her and sat down on hers and Marcus' bed, simply staring into her lap for a minute. Taking care of Mirette had largely purged her mind of most of the pain Elodie's own encounter with her husband had instilled in her. But that seed was still there, nurtured time and time again when his violent temper either partially or entirely was taken out on Elodie. And then Elodie remembered the look she'd seen on Anne's face. How fragile and terrified she had seemed, and Elodie felt incredibly guilty for not doing more when talking to Carter. Despite how close he had gotten to hitting her--it couldn't have been very far away when he'd grabbed her--wasn't it Elodie's place as Anne's mother to take the abuse for the sake of her daughter?

Elodie shook her head. It had been wrong.

Elodie stood from her bed, quickly piecing apart her curls and placing them delicately around her face. She made sure that the sorrow didn't show on her face before leaving the bedroom, and going to Anne's bedroom. She knocked gently on the door.

"...Anne," she asked, softly.

When there was no response, Elodie opened the door, tilting her head slightly when she noticed the room was empty. She closed the door behind her, narrowing her eyes in confusion before she went to the dining room. But Anne was not there either.

Could Carter really still have Anne in his office? Elodie rushed to her husband's study, not bothering to knock before she entered.

"Carter...where is our daughter," she asked him, only noticing the James in the room afterwards.

"Carter!" she pushed harder, obviously in distress.


"Woah, woah," Weston exclaimed as the girl jumped backwards. "I'm not going to hurt you, relax, please. Whatcha on the run from?"

He narrowed his eyes, starting to whisper. "Stupid question. We're all running from the same thing--or same person--aren't we?" He noticed the girl's lack of comfort and sighed, sticking out a hand. "I'm Weston. Or Wes, West...eh. English Canadian, and yes, I DO mean Canadian, not 'North American', or whatever."

Weston hoped his joking would help the girl relax. "What's your name?"
 
Jay took it upon himself to walk up to Mirette's room. This might have been the only chance to see her. After he ascended the stairs, Jay walked to her room. Hoping she did not reveal he was there, Jay knocked lightly, soon entering. "Mirette? Mirette it's Jay. Are you ok?" He had no real reason to be in there but it was his charismatic character that kicked in. Like his father, Jay wasn't keen on the "personal bubble" and would not cease to enter where he wasn't allowed to go.

Carter became angry at his wife's strong voice. He got up and took her by the arm, taking her out of the office. "Do not talk to me like that!" Carter said as soon as they left the room. He had a tight grip on her arm. "Anne escaped because you failed to do as I asked. Typical. I do not want you in my office again for the rest of the day. Now, go fetch lunch for us and have a guard bring it in. Do you understand?" Carter took his by the back of her hair and pulled her close to him. "If I ever see you speak out to me again, I will make sure you regret it." He let go of her and walked back into his office, slamming the door.

"I'm sorry about that. Now, let's get back to the press conference. James, I believe you had the details on what is to be said. Please, share them and we will go from there."


Anne had calmed down enough to catch her breathe. "W-Weston? I-I am Anne." She was in no mood to laugh, but she offered a weak smile. She let Weston bring her to her feet. She dusted off all the dirt she could for her dress. "I suppose we are running from the same person." If only Weston knew how literal this running was for Anne. "Do, do you live here?" She hinted at the building behind her. Anne hadn't talked to anyone outside the mansion in forever so her shying away from him was to be expected.
 
Mirette had only just layed down when she heard a knock at the door. She blinked, sitting up on the bed and propping herself up against the pillow. She pulled the comforter up to cover her chest as the door opened to reveal Jay. He came inside, closing the door behind him. It took a moment for Mirette to register the situation, and then she smiled, nodding. "I'm fine. I was just laying down," she said. "I didn't get a lot of sleep last night."

Elodie whimpered as Carter grabbed her arm, pulling her out of the office. You told me you wanted to handle it! She cried out as Carter moved his hand to her hair, pulling her close, his eyes angry and grim. She's gone. How is she gone? No, this is all my fault. "Carter," she cried, tears streaking down the sides of her face as her husband released her. And then she was gone, Elodie nursing the bruise forming on her arm where he had held her. She blinked, staring at his office door after she slammed it shut. She couldn't keep the tears from falling, nor from shaking, as she moved, quickly, to obey his order, telling a guard to bring the food in once it was ready.

Elodie went to their room, immediately falling onto the bed, curling up into herself gently and doing her best to stare at the wall through the tears she could no longer stop from falling from her hazel eyes. Elodie's shaking only increased now. She couldn't stop thinking about Anne, and tried to make sense of the situation. All she wanted was Anne back home and safe.


Once she had kissed her children goodbye and they had gone to the station with Adam, Sera headed to work. While driving, she received the call from James. It was odd, but she didn't question it. And she headed in.


James looked at Carter, nodding. He was glad that Sera was not there yet, so that they could discuss what they would tell her. "I think we say that she had run away. The First Family is terrified, and has sent the finest of the President's Personal Guard to find her. We should warn against approaching her, as she is unwell and not thinking straight. That way, if anyone sees her, they do not try to detain her themselves." He paused, looking at the door for a moment. "Sir, I don't think we should tell Sera that the search is fake. You know the trouble she has convincing herself that it's all right to keep things from the press. After ten years of marriage to Adam Dupont...we shouldn't take the risk."


Weston helped the girl up, smiling. "It's good to meet you!" He looked back as she motioned at the decrepit remains of the building behind him. "I'm always on the move. I'm staying here right now, but I think I'll be on the move again soon. How about you? You don't really look like you have a place to stay. How long have you been running?"

((I'm using Adam as the name for the reporter. I just wanted to put something there. You can change it if you want.

Also, I think they have two kids, an older boy (maybe seven) and a younger girl (five). Do you want the older boy?))
 
The average person would have up and left after Mirette said she had no gotten sleep, but Jay persisted on. "Oh, I'm sorry. Rough night? I've had a few of those the last few weeks. It's tough living in these times. I mean no disrespect to your father, he is a wise man and everything." Jay was rambling and soon stopped. He looked around her room to relieve some awkwardness he felt. "Do you want me to leave? I can." Jay sounded like he was hoping for her to permit him to stay. He wanted to.

Carter smiled at James's once again wise words. "That sounds perfect. She will return soon enough. Once Mrs. Dupont arrives, brief her on the news. We are in good fortune to have her trust, though it is a fine line sometimes." Carter looked at the door as a guard walked in with the prepared meal. "Please, James, sit and dine with me. My wife may be irritating at times but she can cook a hell of a meal." Carter laughed as his usual cuisine was placed before him.

Anne was slowly adjusting to Weston and offered a few more words. "I haven't been running long at all, I'm afraid I don't have a place I live. Not anymore. I didn't like my old home." Anne left it at that as she looked on at the man. He wasn't a sight for sore eyes and Anne carefully glanced over his features. She soon found her self gawking and looked down at the ground, as a red face appeared on her. "You won't be here long?" Anne soon said with some sorrow in her tone. "Where will you go?"

(If it's all the same, I'll take the boy, but I'd be fine with the girl haha)
 
Mirette giggled a little bit at Jay's behavior. The two of them and Anne had been good friends when they were children, but as they grew up, they grew farther apart. Mirette didn't think the three had spent very much time together since the twins were twelve years old. She hadn't realized until now how much she had missed it, nor how much she missed having anyone to talk to. "No," she exclaimed. "It's okay. It's. Um. It's fine." She did think, then, of the fact that she was only in a nightgown, and readjusted the sheet. She pulled it closer to herself and crossed her arms over it to more fully cover herself, the bandaged arm over the top. It wasn't like she was naked underneath, but she still felt pretty exposed.


James smiled at Carter's invitation, taking a seat across from his friend at the desk. He knew those words to be true--this was not the first time Elodie had cooked for him. James thought for a moment about what Elodie must have been going through, but immediately dismissed the thought. It wasn't like he cared.

After a minute, a knock came at the door. "Sir?" It was Sera.


Weston frowned as Anne spoke. "I'm sorry to hear that. I've been on the run for a while." Weston wondered if she would want to go with him, but feared asking. After her reaction to meeting him at first, he didn't want her to think he was some kind of sicko. But then, winter was coming, and this girl would freeze if she couldn't find a way to take care of herself. Weston could tell she was knew to this life, but he did not press the point. "I just go...around. I don't like to stay in one place for too long. Do you...I don't want to impose, or seem like a creep or anything, but if you don't have anywhere to go, you can come iwth me..."

((Sounds good! I'll take the daughter.))
 
Jay smiled at her giggle. He didn't want to appear too forward so he stood where he was. "Your wrist? Looks nasty. I hope it feels better. It's never good to hurt something like that." Jay soon sat at a chair that was to his side. He kept his eyes focused on her, not in a creepy fashion, but in an interested one. He wanted to talk to her. She is so beautiful. That was all Jay could think about.

Carter finished what food was in his mouth and gestured Sera to walk in. "Ah, Sera! Come in! Come in! You are about the most important person in the world right now!" Carter was obviously exaggerating but it was to convince Sera of the "seriousness" of the situation. "My daughter, Anne, has escaped the mansion. We do not know where she has gone, but we have sent a special squad to begin the search. We need you to let the people of the nation know two things: We are distressed and worried for my daughter, and that she is not right in the head and should not be detained, for there is no reward. James with brief you more as you begin. Is this all good?" For as dire a situation as it was, Carter seemed not caring at all, although deep down he was her father and he did so much care.

Anne was shocked when he asked her to come with him. What choice did she have? He seemed kind enough and she knew that without some guidance, she would be soon to perish in the open world. "I-I....yes. I would love to come with you, if you will take me with you." Her voice was shaky once more she shook a bit. It was colder outside and she wore nothing but a dress. "Could w-we go inside. I'm awfully cold out here."
 
((To be fair, the situation is sort of creepy in and of itself XD.))

Mirette followed his eyes to her wrist, nodding strongly. "Oh! Yeah, it was bad. My mom took care of it, though. And your dad, he brought me medicine," she motioned with her head to the pill box that sat on her desk. "It's starting to feel better already." She smiled shyly, catching his eyes with her own. He looked at her so intently, she wasn't sure what to say. This was just a day of firsts, and it wasn't even noon yet. One hand reached up to play with her hair, the other hand keeping the sheet in place. "You know, it's been a while since we've spoken. I mean, really spoken. Years, it seems."


Sera immediately entered when invited in by the president, closing the door behind her and taking a seat next to James. She took a notebook out of the left interior pocket of her jacket, opening to a fresh page and taking notes as Carter spoke. She looked up, her brow knitting in concern, but continued to take the rest down. Anne 'escaped'? What the fuck does that even mean? There were so many holes in what the president said, Sera had trouble making sense of it all. But she just took it down. It wouldn't be the first time that they had kept something from her. But something as serious as this? If one of her children had gone missing, Sera knew she wouldn't be able to function. And, here, the president was relaxing, eating food, with his best friend. And the first lady was no where in sight. Sera couldn't even imagine what the older woman must have been going through. She nodded at the president. "I'll take care of it, sir." She rose. "Is that all that you have for me?"

Weston nodded at Anne. "Of course. You're right, it's biting out here. You must be so cold..." He motioned for her to follow him inside, and closed the broken door the best he could behind them. Weston dropped his backpack on the floor and went scavenging around, before brining her a sheet with periodic holes and tears. "Here. I know it's not much, but it'll keep you warmer. It's hard to make due out here, I'm afraid."

((What's Sera and Adam's son's name? The daughter is Marnee.))
 
"No we haven't, have we?" Jay questioned, smiling. "If I were ever here more. I mean my father is here almost everyday. I only come around if I'm lucky to. I had fun being with you in our youth. You've grown up to be a beautiful young lady. Im not much older though." Jay laughed and smiled pleasantly. "How have you been?"

Carter adjusted his tie. "I believe so, I expect that our nation shall have this news no later than syn down. We need to keep Anne safe. My poor daughter..." Carter then took a final drink of his water and was up. "Now about the education reforms. I do believe my wife will need to be in here. I may have overreacted to her banning. Sera, would you mind fetching a guard to retrieve my wife from where ever she is within my mansion?"

Anne offered a meek smile and quickly wrapped herself up. "Th-thank you." Her words were choppy not due to shyness, but merely the cold air which pricked at her. She found a spot along the wall and fell into it. The closer her body was together, the warmer she would be. She brought her knees to her chest, making sure not to expose herself. She wrapped the blanket around her front.


((The son is Fredrick. Also im on my phone,sorry for the short post.)
 
Mirette grinned. "I miss those days too," she confirmed softly, redirecting her gaze to the side. "Everything was so different. And you were the same age, but you would never admit it when we'd play games," she teased. "I remember it being, 'I'm fourteen, you guys are just ten, so I should get to go first.' And then...I don't know what happened...it's like we all just stopped playing together..." Mirette looked up at him again as he commented on her looks. Was he coming on to her? She smiled uncertainly, her gaze moving down. "Thank you," she responded. "I. Um. I've been fine," she lied. "There's not very much for me to do around here, I'm just sort of in this room, always. How about you?" She must have sounded so lame.


Sera nodded, placing the notebook back into her pocket. "Yes, sir, of course. I'll have it out far before then. We shouldn't sit on something like this." She frowned. "I'm very sorry, sir, I can't even imagine what I would be like if this were Fred or Marnee. Please, give Elodie my wishes." She nodded again, her expression not betraying her uncertainty over what they spoke about now. Educational reform? Yeah. Okay. Sure. "I will send for her, sir."


Weston watched Anne as she settled in one of the corners, and took a seat at the opposite wall. He remembered her reaction to meeting him first, and didn't want to scare her again. He also wanted to know where the fear had come from, but he wasn't so entitled as to ask. Whether you're still here for winter or out on your own, though, you should figure something more substantial out for your clothes. You'll freeze out here in Quebecer winter, eh?"

((No worries!))
 
Jay offered another smile. "I do what my father asks of me. He says that I have a big future, but honestly I don't see it. Perhaps he is right." Jay shuffled around, getting more comfortable. "Does your father have you do things around the house? Do you help him run North America?" Jay laughed slightly, hoping the joke was too pathetic.

Carter waited for Sera to take her leave, and turned his attention towards James. "Perhaps we have too much trust in that woman. I never liked Adam, why did I think his wife would suit us any better. Regardless, the message will be sent. I have a rally to attend to today, I can trust you to oversee the press conference after we are finished here?" Carter was always slightly paranoid. It wouldn't take much for him to overreact or send his personal guards to ensure something even quite simple was completed just the way he intended it to.

Anne knew Weston was right. Her dress would be the death of her. "I don't know where to find clothes. I did not think to bring more protective clothes when I left the man-" Anne stopped herself quickly and tried to leeway into a different word. She could not think of anything so she stared down for a moment, hoping the silence would fill in. A few moments later she spoke. "Do you know where I could find better clothing, I would be so grateful." Anne adjusted the blanket, for even inside her tiny form was still cold.
 
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