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CARNIVAL (The Spark Form Chronicles Book 2) Page 17
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"So what's up?" I ask, ignoring my normal urges to metaphorically dance around a bit and risk going off on a tangent.
He taps through his phone again, pauses, and visibly decides to go with it. "It's one of the regular posters. She kinda picks on everyone, but it's normally ... I mean, it's always clear that she's just playing around. Unless you're a dick, then she goes nuts. She obviously enjoys it, and it's really funny for everyone else, but not so much for whoever riled her up." His face suddenly takes on a really serious, thoughtful expression and he says, "She's normally posting all the time during shows, but she hasn't been around as much this time. She put something up earlier saying that she was gonna disappear for a while, and she hasn't been on since. A bunch of us have replied, just to let her know that we're there if she needs us, but we don't know if she's even seen the messages."
"Mind if I have a look?" I ask.
"Sure," he nods, bringing his phone over to show me the message thread. Once I see the username of the original poster, I can't help but smile.
If you believe my old Sociology teacher, there was a time that people didn't really understand Internet relationships. He said that face-to-face stuff was the norm and everything else was viewed as either less important or just plain odd. E-mails and text messages were like a natural progression from when people had pen-pals, but all the stuff on forums and the growing social media crazes weren't really taken seriously by anyone above the age of thirty, especially if you professed to the relationships being as important as your 'real life' ones. I don't doubt him, but it does seem odd to think about it that way. It's different now though. Online friendships are seen as equals to any other type of friendship.
When I look at the way things have changed over the years, it gives me that little bit of extra hope for Carnival being accepted in the outside world, even if it does take years to reach that point. Until then, I'm glad that she has something outside of just me. "It looks like ImLopineIt is really popular," I say, watching out of the corner of my eye for any little flinches from Carnival.
"She is," John too replies. "I just hope that she sees what we've been saying."
"I'm sure she will eventually. She's probably just got something big going on and needs to step back for a bit. If she posts that often, she won't be able to stay away for long."
"Maybe," he says with a smile.
"Well," I say with a stretch, "I don't wanna be a pain John too, but I'm gonna need to get ready for Fahrn pretty soon."
"No, no, that's no problem. I should go and see what else they want me to do anyway. And thank you. You're probably right about ImLopineIt."
"No worries," I say, following him to the door. "And don't worry, I'll be letting Sean know how awesome a job you've being doing today."
"Thank you," he replies, stepping out into the hallway. "And good luck."
"Well done," I say, shutting the door. "I didn't catch a single twitch, flick or flinch. I think he likes you."
Carnival rolls her eyes and heads to the fridge with a grunt. There's a slight nervousness to the way she's walking and I can see her trying to keep the smile off her face. I could be mean and draw this out for a while ... nah. I'll be nice.
"Still, there's a lot of people that miss you already. They're all pretty much saying the same thing too: If they have your back online, then they've got it out here. You've got the makings of your own little army right there. You should see if you can recruit any more. Or, you know, keep the troops morale up."
Carnival rarfs out a laugh and walks over to her tablet, her hands immediately flying over the screen at high speed. After hearing all that, she would have logged on anyway, but I think that she likes knowing that I don't mind her excursions into the electronic world of trolling and random moments of being a typed vigilante. Still, given the amount of messages she has, this could take a while. Time for a cup of tea I think. Whoops, hello Gavin.
FAHRN - 16:31
"I can't believe that you didn't notice it while you were out there," Sean states flatly, shaking his head.
"When you're out in the Battle Zone, you're only half aware of the fans," I say, flicking through the print outs and screen shots that Day and Sean have thrust at me. "Or I am anyway. Guys like John Forrester who spend the whole match dancing about are probably equally as aware of the crowd responses as they are of what's going on out on the field. I try to keep my mind on the game and leave most of the showboating for public appearances, promos, my entrance, stuff like that. If I play to the fans at all during the match itself, it's an automatic response to something that some small part of me picked out of the noise. I applied the same thinking to the whole confrontation with Dorian."
That wasn't just because it's my style though, it was because it was all I could do to keep myself from darting over to Meera. Part of me still feels bad that I wasn't there for her at the end, but in truth, I know deep down that the job had to be my priority. Keeping Fenrir running, making sure that Maria and I always have a home together, that needs to be my focus. We need that. I need that.
The point is, that's why this is all a surprise to me.
"Well," grins Day Rawley, "I can in all honesty say that I have never seen such a huge swing in public opinion for any Offlander in the public eye before, in any profession."
I smile, passing Maria a list of positive quotes about me that have apparently appeared online in the last hour or so. "That's only because you thought I was such a bitch before," I say to Day with a wink. "It makes all of this stuff look better than it is."
"Combustible Fahrn, combustible," Day laughs. "You jest, but there may be some truth in that. Irrespective of any hasty comparisons though, you are a very public figure and one that has, historically speaking, consistently reminded people of what they fear about us. That being the case, to garner any sway in public perception is an achievement."
"And one to be proud of," adds Sean. "All you have to do now is cement it in the final."
Uh-huh. I knew there'd be a catch somewhere.
"So, basically," Maria cuts in, "if she gets booed in the final, she's out of the Civil Rights Movement and the deals off, is that it?"
"No," says Sean. "John is immensely popular. There's every chance that Fahrn will get a few boos. It's more about doings things to ... no, it's about not doing anything to encourage any negative reactions. If the fans do cheer though, try to keep them doing it."
"What you have there is the tip of the iceberg Fahrn," Day says. "That is proof enough for me that you can be a positive addition to the team, not only in the real world but in the entertainment industry."
"You mean the Dorian stuff, right?"
Day nods. "The entertainment industry is remarkably influential. Just as our fight continues out there, your battles with Dorian will mirror our struggles in here. Sympathy, empathy, some subtle nudges in the right direction ... Emblem's biggest success could easily turn into ours."
"Speaking of Dorian, he sends his apologies. To you both," Sean says, nodding to Maria. He turns back to me and continues, "He said that he hopes he didn't hit you too hard. I'm not sure how he'll feel about how your eye looks now."
"It's fine," I reply. "I'm just glad that he understood what I wanted. Besides, a little bruising may remind the fans why they were cheering me in the first place."
"I'm not sure I would describe that as a little bruising," Day replies, smoothing his goatee.
Maria smiles widely and I drop my face into my hands knowing that I can't stop her mentioning her favourite story. "She's had worse," she says. "At least he wasn't carrying a cucumber."
"I was drunk," I groan, residing myself to the knowledge that I'm now going to have to explain that comment. "I opened the fridge, slipped and pulled a stupidly large cucumber down on my face."
"Best broken nose ever," Maria giggles.
"Cucumbers are evil," I sigh.
"Well isn't this all terribly jolly," comes a gruff voice from the door.
Sean closes his eyes,
takes a deep breath and turns to look at our new guest. "How can I help you this time Connor?"
"Oh you've done quite enough," he says through a dark, toothy grin. "It's Starchaser that I have business with, so if you wouldn't mind buggering off, that would be marvellous."
"Oh, this is wonderful," Day replies. "I'm quite the fan ..."
"... Don't encourage him," Sean cuts in, the sweat already forming on his head. "We're just about done here anyway. Fahrn, did you still want to do your interview on the way to the match?"
"Yeah, if that's OK. I wanted to keep this one short and focused."
"No problem. I can get a cameraman to you whenever you're ready." Sean gets to his feet and turns to Day. "Was there anything else you wanted to add?"
"No, no," he replies, turning back to Maria and me. "I'll be in touch to arrange a more in depth meeting. Perhaps you'd both like to join me for dinner sometime next week to begin our discussions?"
I look to Maria and she smiles and nods. "Sounds good," I reply. "And thank you. This is ... it all means a lot to me. You too Sean, you've been a big help."
"Not a problem," Sean replies. "Oh, and Connor? We still need to discuss the tour."
"Glutton for punishment, aren't you Carlston?" he sneers. "I think I'd rather enjoy the rest of the tournament first actually. Yes, let you sweat on it a bit, build up a few defences that I can knock down."
"Fine then," Sean replies through gritted teeth. "I'll come and find you after the final," he says and makes an abrupt exit.
Days looks to me and adds, "Good luck," then leaves to catch up to Sean.
Connor Ford strides into the room and sits himself down into the chair that had, up until a moment ago, been occupied by Sean Carlston. By his face and posture, he wants to show strength. The slight tensing when he sat down and again when he straightened up gives away that he's hurting. His breathing isn't consistent either. No, stop analysing Fahrn. Connor isn't a hostile, he just acts like one.
"Thank you," I say after a moment. "For what you did with Meera. Laqueta rather. It was a nice send-off."
Connor tilts his head, studying my face. A smile grows, and quickly gives way to laughter. "Nice? That bloody song and dance? The ten chant is standard respect; the rest was just to make me look good before the tour. If I am to fail on my promise of victory, then I may as well do it in a way that keeps the inconsiderate masses on side, hadn't I?"
I feel my fists tense but Maria reacts before I do, rising to her feet and throwing the remainder of her water in Connor's face. He rises to meet her, his grin unwavering even as his hair drips down his brow. She obviously made an impression though, as he keeps his eyes on Maria, even though he addresses me. "Someone needs to keep their bitch on a shorter leash."
"I suggest you leave," I say, remaining seated and struggling to keep my voice steady.
Connor looks down at me and tries to hold my stare, but Starchaser's detached coldness forces him to look away. He reaches into his pocket and throws something onto the floor in front of me. "If it weren't for that Forrester brats jibe about Blood Lust," he growls, "I would have used that one." He turns and stalks from the room, the rage apparent behind his eyes. I almost feel a little sorry for whoever he bumps into next.
"Are you OK?" I ask Maria, keeping my eyes on the door. That's an old habit. He's not likely to come back any time soon, and it's not like he has reinforcements.
"Yeah, sorry," she replies quietly, bending over to pick up the card and finally snapping me out of Starchaser. If this is the result, people are welcome to drop things in front of me more often. "Huh," she says, standing up again disappointingly quickly. "Connor Ford may be a twat, but he's a smart twat."
JOHN FORRESTER - 16:42
The walk to the Entrance Area has been as uneventful as the one before our match with Connor, thanks entirely to the now familiar fake staff members clogging up the halls. They didn't look too happy about being given nicknames like 'Freddie the Faker' and 'Deceptive Danny Liar' though. Maybe Finn trained them in the art of social interactions?
But that's not important. Carnival's fur has been bristling for a couple of corridors now, and her ears are a-twitchin' far more than normal. She's sort of sweating too, which is new. From the light scent, I'm guessing that the slight dampness is comprised of leftover beer droplets. The funny thing is, the hand that's gripping the paperwork looks entirely dry. I wonder if she's keeping the 'sweat' away from them intentionally, or if it's a subconscious thing? For that matter, does she even really know that she's doing it? Maybe she's evolved a little. Or she's added it to her repertoire to help her case?
That's an interesting thought actually. If she has, that means that either the physical traits of living things are important to her or she believes that it will help sway Lana. If it's the latter, then I think she may have missed the mark a little. I got the impression that Lana is more concerned with the mental side of things than the physicality. I could be wrong though.
Either way, I was trying to make a point to myself. What was it? Oh yeah. Carnival's nervous. Even with the paperwork signed and ready to go, neither of us really knows what's going to happen. I'm actually pretty nervous myself, which is why I'm picking on the Disciples of De La Cruz. It helps me keep myself on track and ready to act as necessary should anything happen before the match. Afterwards will be more difficult. Battles with Fahrn take it out of me. A lot. Then there's The Surge.
We round the last corner just in time to see Lana skid to a halt just outside the adjacent corridor. She's gotten changed into a business suit, so I guess that means that she's all business right now ... no, wait, she has the black blazer, jacket and shoes, but she's in a plain white vest top. No, not plain, there's some black tribal stuff on one side. Breathe John. You're so busy trying to see every angle that you're missing all of them.
"No Finn?" I ask, trotting ahead with a passable impression of calm.
"He'll be here in a bit," Lana wheezes. She smiles and glances towards Carnival, causing her to momentarily stop in place. "Are those the papers?"
Carnival nods and steps forward, holding them out.
Lana takes them and turns back to me, her face pensive as she asks, "And you signed them?"
"Yup," I reply. "And we took multiple copies, paper and electronic, just in case."
Lana nods. "So you know, should you lose tonight, we have a plan to get you guys out of there without giving the game away."
"We know. You left a note with the papers."
"Of course I did. Sorry. It's been a stressful day." Carnival grunts with a complete lack of sympathy, and Lana winces. "That was pretty thoughtless of me. Sorry." She pauses, her brow wrinkling as she thinks something over, then says, "Look, there are some things that you should know. First, there have been some issues with Finn that may affect his behaviour."
"Issues?" I ask at the same time as Carnival lets out a light growl.
"It shouldn't be anything to worry about," she says a little too quickly to be entirely sure. "I think I've taken care of it, but should anything happen I'll power him down, you have my word on that."
I look to Carnival and she flicks her tail to show that Lana is telling the truth, intentionally exaggerating it for Lana's benefit. "What else?" I ask.
"Do you know Maria Grace?"
"Fahrn's partner? Not really. Why?"
Lana sighs. "I was hoping you could help me get an idea as to how she's likely to act. My staff were careless, and she found out about Meera. And a little about you two. I cut a deal with her, but there's always the chance that she'll go back on it and tell Fahrn what she knows."
"Why would it matter if she did?"
"They had links to Meera Thorne. Close links apparently. If Maria talked and Fahrn got half as pissed about the whole thing as Maria did, you could be in for a tough one out there."
"Fahrn's always a tough one anyway," I say. "They love each other; anyone can tell you that. I doubt Maria would do anything to hurt Fahrn."
 
; Oddly, that seems to relax Lana a little. "There's hope yet then. OK, you better get ready. We'll have time to talk properly when this is all done." She turns to Carnival, says "Good luck," and walks calmly back up the corridor.
Luck? I get a feeling that it's going to take more than that tonight.
I'd settle for luck though.
DOWNLOADABLE CONTENT: AN INTERVIEW WITH FAHRN STARCHASER
The camera cuts in abruptly on Fahrn Starchaser walking purposefully through the corridors, her eyes set dead ahead. For the first fifteen seconds of the video, the only sound we hear are the competitor’s footsteps and the occasional sounds of the Arena Staff as they go about their duties.
Eventually, Gaz Davis runs up from behind, dropping into pace with Fahrn as he says, "Fahrn! Fahrn! Everyone wants to know one thing right now. Is this your year? Is this the year that you finally pull off the upset and beat John Forrester?"
Fahrn stops and looks directly at Gaz as he holds the microphone out to her, a nervous smile on his face. "Beating John Forrester tonight," she replies, then shakes her head. "It's not an upset. It's a necessity. Then Dorian ... then. It's your turn." She pushes the microphone back into Gaz's chest and resumes her walk past the interviewer while the video fades to black.
PRE SHOW VIDEO III: 16:58
Song: The Last Dawn
Band: Emblem Productions
Genre: Orchestral Score
The video starts off with the sound of a heartbeat, each thump-thump accompanied by a black and white shot of the two finalists, John Forrester and Fahrn Starchaser. The video then switches to clips of last year's final, interspersed with stills from this year's tournament so far.
The living legend ...
"Last year was great, it really was, but this year, this year is gonna eclipse all of that."
The would be Queen ...