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Love Is a Many-Splendored Thing - June / July Vignette 2021

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For Pride we’re celebrating the act of love in all its forms.


For the next few months give us stories of how the people around the heroes experience the lives they live, and how that affects their love for said character.


It doesn’t have to just be romantic or physical love (though it can), amoung other things it can also be familial (actual or found) . The love can be unrequited, but it should still be a positive thing, no crazy stalkers this time around.


Your stories of love should be posted no later than the 31st July 2021.


(As a reminder, vignettes follow the same general rules as posts in terms of content, player character limits, and so on. You may have only one vignette per player character. Each vignette should be at least one page (~500 words) in length; if posted in your thread counts at the end of the month, it is worth 1pp for the associated character. An especially long vignette, 1000 words or more, may be worth up to 2pp. Multiple players can collaborate on a single vignette - we recommend Google Docs for this, it's very useful - but the vignette should be about one page per participating player.)

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Sister Mary Valentine was younger than most of the nuns at St. Joan of Arc School, perhaps in her late forties, and happy to be an elementary school teacher. She smiled kindly in response to young Ashley's question, prompted by a story she'd overheard around the family dinner table. It was only later, looking back on the memory, that Ashley could think about the nervousness around the other woman's smile, and the way she'd glanced at the classroom door before she spoke. "The Church does say that behavior is sinful, but it's not sinful to be, ah, that way. No one is born wicked." 


This was, by Ashley's count, her fifth Pride. She'd gone to two with the Raven as Copycat, she'd taken Judy to two as Watchdog, and every time she'd been there to work, to keep an eye on the streets and the sky and make sure that criminals and supervillains didn't interrupt what was supposed to be a good time. It was the first time she'd gone as herself, Ashley Tran, Secret Service agent. She was wearing blue jeans and a light denim jacket, her badge and gun carefully tucked away beneath the latter, pink hair tucked away under a vintage New Orleans Baby Cakes baseball cap. In the growing crowd of people, she had never felt more naked. 


"And so after he called you - that - what happened?" asked Philip Tran. He was a big man in Ashley's memory but she knew he'd been on the short side for a cop, five foot seven in his boots. She'd tried on his old uniform the day she made the NOPD and it fit. He was sitting next to her in the front seat of the old Crown Victoria he'd bought when the precinct had been about to retire it, and they were parked out front of what had until very recently been what everyone called Vietnamese summer camp. In a few more years, this was going to be Ashley's car. If she wasn't grounded for life. 


"I shoved him off the railing. Then he got up and punched me in the face." It was going to bruise, but so was Lee, and a lot worse. 


"Well. I'm proud of you for standing up for yourself." He hugged her lightly. "And don't let those đụ má get inside your head. Working out and being good at sports makes you my little cô gái tinh nghịch, nothing more. Those thing he said about you aren't true; you have nothing to be ashamed of. But you are going to be grounded when we get home." He turned on the car radio, and they listened to the news of the hurricane building in the Gulf, the one the NOAA had already named Katrina. 


Deciding it was easier to talk to somebody than the voices inside her head, she got up and began to walk down the side of the street, trying to keep her eyes off the parade. Well not the parade, exactly; the crowd that might be concealing a weapon, the windows that might be doing the same, the shady-looking guy who might be a shapeshifter, the girl who looked like a DNAscendant but might just be really jacked...she wondered, not for the first time, what Fa'Rua would think of all this. Stopping by a merchandise booth, she looked over a row of buttons of all different colors. She looked at the blue and purple button, picked it up in her hand, and glanced around behind her sunglasses. Nobody was looking at her. Nobody cared. 


She bought the pin and wore it all day. 


Even when Red Death attacked. 




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